the patience of jod

well hello there 40

2012-02-15T09:47:00.000-08:00

I've been expecting you.

I'm sure you're aware that there are many who dread your presence

some who may even fear it

but not me

I believe you and I
will get along swimmingly.

Time to let go

2012-02-01T08:44:00.000-08:00

I don't remember when exactly I purchased the board shorts but I do have photos that suggest they've been with us since late 2007. My husband has been begging me to retire them for years.

"It's time," he sighed.

"I know, I know" I answered as I threw them into my suitcase.

Change can be hard.

Headed for Maui on Friday.

I'll be leaving my board shorts and my 30's there.

19 year old me

2012-01-30T12:26:00.000-08:00

I can't tell you what age my grandma was. Older people don't have an age when you're 19. They're just . . . older. I was headed full bore down the path to nowhere when she offered to take me on a trip. Just her and I. Anywhere I wanted to go (within reason of course). It was an idea cooked up by my parents, I was sure. A temporary deterrent from my great plan of unhappiness.

I chose St. George, Utah. Close (so I could get back quicker) and it was home to real, live palm trees. A sight I had not yet seen in my 19 years.

We were not yet 10 minutes out of town when "the conversation" began. I was not one to shy away from asking personal questions and she was not one to shy away from honesty. We were on the topic of her youth, a subject we hadn't ever really discussed, or at least one I hadn't taken the time to listen to. She shared some surprisingly intimate things. It was the first time I can remember an adult trusting me enough to share adult information.

I stared at the freeway stretching before us and worked to digest the matter at hand. A frantic blur of flapping wings, a thud and a feathery figure thrown to side of the road. She didn't scream, or slow down or swerve. I settled down further into the passenger's seat and thought about adulthood and dead birds. My head ached.

My headache turned out to be a raging sinus infection and the beginnings of bronchitis. Although the over the counter drugs I was taking turned my first palm tree sighting into a medicated haze my time with her remains wonderfully clear. That was the weekend my grandmother became a real person to me. Not just a grandma, but a woman with hopes, dreams, desires and disappointments. The weekend my great plan of unhappiness was interrupted.

______________________________________________

She was dying of pan-creatic cancer when we gathered around the Thanksgiving table to share our favorite memories. "Our trip to St. George," I said smiling across the room at her. The light reflected off her snow white hair giving her the distinct appearance of a modern day angel. My grandma had an age then. She was 81.

I will be seeing palm trees this weekend

and thinking of her.

Losing teeth can be a bloody ordeal

2012-01-26T08:55:00.000-08:00

her tooth had been flapping in the wind since mid December

a source of great anxiety for our youngest.

while I was helping her brush her teeth it flopped forward,

drooping like dead foliage against her bottom lip.

Giant alligator tears began to form.

"Push it back towards your tongue," I encouraged.

It didn't work.

"Use toilet paper to get a good grip."

It didn't help.

"Grab it by the base and pull."

It stayed put.

"Wiggle it from side to side."

No luck.

"Twist it."

She twisted it clear around until it faced perfectly backwards.

It was still in place.

after more blood, sweat and tears ~

Our official tooth fairy container:

A gift to teenage me from Aunt Jan living in Peru

It fits 4 quarters perfectly.

And wouldn't you know it,

that's EXACTLY the amount the tooth fairy leaves.

clever her.

almost home

2012-01-25T14:19:00.000-08:00

Sunday, January 22, 6:26 a.m.

2012-01-23T09:58:00.000-08:00

a phone call from my mother

she is in the ambulance

my father is on the gurney

we meet them at the emergency room

he is in agonizing pain

the O.R. is being prepared

I wrap my fingers through his

"I wish I could kiss your hand" he whispers

I place my cold hand against his warm cheek

he turns his head and delicately places his lip against my palm

"You are doing so good" I say.

I tell him I've spoken with my sister in Boston

and he cries.

"The world goes round cause of dads" read a text from my friend.

She knows about dads and daughters.

today my world is still going round.

These kind of days

2012-01-21T14:28:00.000-08:00

were meant for warm pajamas

wrapped in a cozy blanket

sipping hot cocoa

while losing yourself in a good book

or attending basketball games

doing Saturday chores

and shuttling children around town.

darn.

halfway

2012-01-20T11:07:00.000-08:00

all the oversized back to school clothes actually fit
coats are becoming blackened around the edges
sneaker tread is becoming worn
socks without holes are a luxury
7:30 rise and shine has been replaced by 8:10 bed head
the crayon box is left with all the worst colors
the teachers smile has turned a little more wary
an extra good dessert doesn't offset the hot & sour meatballs in the lunchroom anymore
a child's enthusiasm for learning is directly mirrored by his dogged homework folder

Scarf Up a Compliment Day

2012-01-19T10:04:00.000-08:00

Kim, I love that you're not afraid to ask.

You've gotten Sam involved

in so many amazing opportunities

just by asking.

I followed your lead and not only got Matt into a Utes game

but he received a huge basket of Utes memorabilia

and was handed field passes by a Utes coach.

And all this by emailing the powers that be

and filling them in on the untiring big brother/care taker
Mr. Matt is to Nick.

You make me want to be more brave Kim.

I'm done.

2012-01-18T10:09:00.000-08:00

Capital D O N E.

We run him 2-4 miles every day.

We feed him.

We play with him.

We buy him new toys to keep him interested -

but still nothing is more interesting than our socks, our gloves, our stuffed animals, our toys, our pillows, our furniture, our food. He's a perpetual puppy stuck in a 4 year old, 55 pound body.

Three of our 7 couch cushions ripped to shreds. The living room furniture rearranged into an odd configuration in a weak attempt to keep him off the love seat. We have now blocked off the living room altogether with random chairs and a huge shoe basket - the first thing friends see when they walk through our front door. The cost to have the makeshift barrier replaced by french doors if we choose to do so? $800.00

He has scratched the leather furniture while trying to bury his rawhides. His chew toys are scattered throughout our entire living area - half eaten, soggy rawhides underneath my pillow. We have to keep our bedroom doors closed at all times or we're sure to see him sauntering through the house with a beloved toy clenched between his teeth. We tried leaving Allie's door open the other day so she wouldn't have to retire to the arctic freeze one more night. We found her new pillow and sham torn to bits and scattered like explosive confetti down the stairs. He eats clothes out of the laundry room, gloves out of the coat closet and kitchen towels right off their hanger. He eats anything enclosed in a ziploc baggie and likes to cleanse his palate with children's art projects. Handmade quilts, nativity sets, advent calendars. He knows how to do it up right. And when these things don't sit well he leaves them in a mess of bile for us to find at the top of the landing.

We can't leave him outside unattended because he'll run right through the expensive underground barrier my husband spent hours installing. It doesn't take much. A walker, a jogger, a dog, a loud truck. He's happy to give chase. When he's not taking on the role of escaped convict he's widening the trenches he's created with his pathological running and barking.

Oh, and he piddles in excitement when someone outside of our family pets him. This usually takes place in our front entryway. Right next to the pile of chairs and soggy rawhides.

this should be a no-brainer
but everyone with kids and dog knows it's not.

I must say here that we take full responsibility.

We have no idea how to train pets.

We've taken dog training classes,

visited with a vet,

gotten citronella spray,

bought a bark collar and

purchased a top of the line training collar.

Nothing. Nada. Zip.

We stink.

Assiduous:

2012-01-13T12:08:00.000-08:00

Part of Speech:	adjective
Definition:	hard-working
Synonyms:	Active, attentive, busy, constant, diligent, exacting, grinding, indefatigable, industrious, laborious, persevering, plugging, scrupulous, sedulous, steady, studious, unflagging, untiring, whiz, zealous

4.0

at a new school

with two AP classes

equalling more homework than

all previous years of schooling combined.

with no reminding, prompting or help

from us.

assiduous.

the incentive?

a weekend of golf
with dad.

inconsequential observations

2012-01-12T08:52:00.000-08:00

boys are messy. i asked my son to take the cereal down to the food storage and this is what i get. i'm reasonably sure he would be hard pressed to find a problem with this picture.

speaking of food storage, apparently i'm planning on cleaning up all end of the world messes with brawny. i have 72 double rolls of paper towels. that's 6,912 two ply sheets for wiping up all post earth quake debris. pretty soon i'll have to start moving food out to make room for my growing paper towel collection.

speaking of paper towels, i buy mine at costco.

speaking of costco, i took a broken folding table back yesterday. i told the man i thought i'd owned it about a year and a half. turns out it's been 4. (my how time flies) the table was still under warranty and he issued me a full refund . . . which i promptly spent it on more paper towels.

and speaking of broken, we bought a new fridge when we remodeled our home three years ago. we loved it so much that we had cabinets built around it. the fridge has broken and we were just informed they don't make parts for it anymore. i don't want to name names but if the amana service center were anywhere nearby we'd be toilet papering it for family night. or maybe paper toweling it.

what do you overbuy?

you know when

you're walking around the store

and you think "we might be running out of this"

so you throw two or three in your cart

only to get home and realize you already had 8 in the pantry-

You Make Me Smile Like the Sun

2012-01-10T09:42:00.000-08:00

shine like gold.

The good and bad of it

2012-01-09T08:57:00.000-08:00

the good:

snow. finally. it's cool chill warmed our barren souls as the cold flakes wet our parched lips. we soaked it up like manna from heaven. and heaven it was.

the bad:

there is a sadness that hangs over me this morning. i cannot place the aching in the pit of my stomach. until i slow down. and remember. the screaming. the crying. for hours. our boy is struggling. angry autism is back and my sorrow finds place in the quiet of a monday. just me. and an empty house. a rare moment to let go of the brave face. brief but necessary.

and then it's back to the business of being mom.

I miss you blog

2012-01-06T08:27:00.001-08:00

things are going to change.

Dear Mr.

2011-12-16T09:31:00.000-08:00

financial advisor

cystic fibrosis board member

tournament organizer

young men's president

home teacher

temple worker

father

basketball coach

cyclist

golf fanatic

history nut

cartographer

general contractor

math tutor

comedian

you may be all these things to the world

but you are so much more to me.
Happy 17 years,

Would it detract from your Christmas spirit if ~

2011-12-14T08:11:00.000-08:00

you had gone to Temple Square to see the Christus

and you saw a little boy spitting off the balcony

and then you saw his mom grab him

by his little red Land's End lapels

and give him the "what-for". . .

right in front of Jesus?

What? Not very Christmasy you say?

Well then thank heavens it wasn't ME with MY child!

Hoping your Christmas season is going is seamlessly as ours,

December 2-4

2011-12-13T14:13:00.000-08:00

"You'll remember how hard you work today for the rest of your lives." I told them. And I believe they will.

I remember sandbagging in the floods of 1983 when I was 11 years old. The winds of 2011 will hold their own place in Utah history, I'm sure. I fed them a big breakfast and bundled them tightly before sending them out the door for the appointed meeting time. The school district had canceled school and everyone who was able was meeting at the church at 9:00 a.m. so they could help those with the most pressing needs. (It reminded me of the good old days when school was let out during the harvest so kids could help on the farm.) Our boys worked tirelessly until sundown, 9 hours later.

I helped our immediate neighbors as our young ones stayed busy gathering sticks into buckets. There was talking and laughing around the neighborhood as men, women and children worked side by side. A feeling of hope, gratitude and joy permeated the pine scented air. There was not one home that wasn't affected yet everyone was working for the good of the whole, putting their own needs on the back burner. This, I thought, is the reason we will never leave this neighborhood. Neighbors helping neighbors, friends helping friends. A small glimpse into heaven.

Saturday was a day for our yard. We gathered scattered shingles, stacked broken fence and hauled tree limbs and logs up the steep incline to a waiting trailer. Every muscle in our bodies screamed by nightfall but sleep came quickly and soundly.

Sunday morning in Sacrament meeting an announcement was made that a high winds storm warning was issued for late that same afternoon. Churches of all faiths were cancelled that day in response to a request by Governor Gary Herbert to aid in clean up in an attempt to secure all debris from the previous storm before the next one hit. Our ward was not cancelled and it seemed the longest 3 hours of my life as I waited restlessly for the moment we could get home and put work gloves on.

The community response was overwhelming. The National Guard was called in to aid in the clean up but there seemed very little need for them as neighborhoods helped neighborhoods and cities helped cities.

I was especially touched by a father and his blind teenage son that I saw at the designated dump site. They worked side by side on a trailer until it was emptied and then the father would lead his boy to the next trailer, put his hands on the tree limbs and they would continue. Everyone was working.

It was another day full of smiles and kindnesses. The Mayor later issued a letter thanking the community for doing in 8 hours what would have taken the city months. While the landscape in our neighborhood has definitely changed I would argue that it's for the better. Fences have come down, not just literal ones. There is a strong tie between those who have experienced something of this magnitude together. We have lost worldly goods in exchange for lasting relationships and memories that will last longer than the most deeply rooted trees, longer than the strongest of brick homes. They will last an eternity.

December 1, 2011

2011-12-13T13:02:00.000-08:00

We woke up tired from a fitful nights sleep caused by the branches of the ancient scrub oak pounding against our window. A glance outside threw me into a momentarily pouty mood. A portion of our fence was down, 2 posts had been snapped. "One more spring project to add to the list," I grumped. Glad that the long night was over we started into the days calendared events. First up, 7:30 SEOP meeting at the Junior High. It was a windy drive down Main Street as we took in the scene from the night before. Large, beautiful trees laying on their sides at the municipal golf course. Probably 20, maybe even 30 we guessed. We made it safely into the Junior High and visited with the counselor about our son's future for the next 30 minutes as the lights flickered on and off. The meeting ended, we hugged Brayden goodbye, wished him a good day and left, not realizing just how soon we'd be back.

On the 5 minute drive home we received a call from Brandon's mom. "Is everything alright there? I just spoke with the kids and they sounded worried. I told them to go to the basement to wait for you." We assured her that aside from a short nights sleep and a little fence damage there was little to report at our place. Next item on the agenda, get children to school. Clothes, breakfast, hair, prayers, scriptures, coats, backpacks. On our drive to the elementary school we realized that not every home had fared as well as ours. It was work to get the car door open as the wind blew determinedly against me but we successfully unloaded Allie and Matt. Nick would stay with us, too frightened by the weather to maneuver school that day. Inside the school was an eerie feel, only half as many students in attendance that day. I kissed my children and wandered back out into the mightiest winds I'd seen.

It was on our drive back through the neighborhood that the magnitude of what was happening finally began to sink in. Fences were down in every direction exposing yards being ravaged by the continual winds. Garbage cans left out for garbage day had been overturned and blown away leaving a thick trail of trash that lined every barrier it could cling to. Every majestic pine in the neighborhood was laying on it's side, some snapped in two like a toothpick, most pulled up by their very roots. Shingles were peeling off roofs by the sheets, basketball standards and stop signs were snapped at their base, lying face down. It was difficult to hold back the tears in the face of our city's new landscape. As the fierce winds began to pick up all I could think of was having my family near me.

A moment later my cell phone rang, our concerned teenager on the line. "Mom, can you come get me?" We called the elementary school to inform them that we'd be picking up our other children as well and in 15 minutes we were huddled together safely in our home. We stood at the sliding glass doors and watched as our remaining trees were thrown relentlessly from side to side, sided to side. I cannot explain, nor will I try, the utter helplessness I felt as we stood there that day. The winds so fierce and unforgiving, happy to bestow destruction upon every single home in sight. I stopped crossing my fingers and hoping and even stopped reacting to each new tree that toppled. We were resigned to our fate.

In numbers:
Hurricane 2 force winds up to 102 mph
54,000 people without power, many for days
windows in 30 school buses shattered
10 semi trucks overturned
400 trees down at the municipal golf course (not the 20-30 we'd hoped)
250 trees down at the Oakridge Country Club in our neighborhood
an estimated $8 million clean up for Centerville (a neighboring city)
declared state of emergency

Somehow the cheery Christmas music playing softly in the background seemed out of place, almost irreverent that day . . .

So much to say

2011-12-07T10:03:00.001-08:00

no time to say it

anxious to document.

She still

2011-11-21T09:14:00.001-08:00

sleeps in my shirt

cuddled up with fuzzy and teddy

She tells me she loves me 20 times a day
and kisses me on the lips.

She melts me.

We're going to be healthy if it kills us!

2011-11-18T08:00:00.001-08:00

and let me say

it just might.

my seven year old was happy enough to put the oats through the hand grinder but that was the last smiling face I saw this morning. My husband hotfooted it out of the house stopping only long enough to point out our healthy breakfast boiling over the sides of the pan into a thick puddle of cinnamony goo at the bottom of the gas stove. Not to be deterred I turned on itunes and blasted "Good Feeling" through the pulsing speakers as I called the children to the table.

Good feeling gone.

"It tastes just like cookie dough. I promise." (A promise I felt I could make as I had added approximately the same amount of cinnamon and sugar my oatmeal cookie recipe calls for. The only thing missing was the baking soda.)

dead silence.

poking.

prodding.

more silence.

finally, time to leave for school.

As the garbage disposal chewed through their cast offs I made a promise to myself that the next time I start a family I'll introduce them to hot cereal earlier in life.

and on another note . . .
aren't kids wonderful at keeping you humble? Just when you think you're doing an acceptable job at keeping the home semi-clean you find your child's name etched in the dust on top of the piano. Well isn't that cute!

This weekend:

A big breakfast of hot cereal

followed by lots and lots of chores!

who am I kidding.

It will be the usual belgian waffles and bacon

followed by a few jobs done "half apple"

if we're lucky.

Necessity is the Mother of Invention

2011-11-10T09:28:00.001-08:00

Twenty five clams for the teacher +

a king sized candy bar for the student

if they can make this happen

At this rate Mr. Matt will be making approximately
50 cents a hour.

being a mother means

2011-11-08T09:12:00.000-08:00

loving someone with such intensity
that when your heart breaks for them
it causes a slow burning behind your eyes
a hard aching in the depths of your throat
a stomach twisted into a million impossible knots
and a mind that can't rest for want of solving it all.

being a mother means
loving someone so much
you feel like you were created
expressly for the purpose of
being by their side
to share in the experience
and even amidst the pain

you're glad for it.

A friend called me out yesterday

She said I'm unkind to myself -

unkind about my mothering skills.

She asked me to name 5 things I'm good at.

It stretched me but I did it:

saying "I love you"
reading to/with them
creating a warm place for them to come home to
cuddling
can't recall the last one but I did come up with five

So now I'm asking you

What are 5 things that you're good at

as a parent or otherwise?

Try it.

It's wonderfully therapeutic ~

How sweet it is

2011-11-01T19:16:00.000-07:00

Two teenagers, 4 tweens, 3 children, 2 adults, 1 overgrown hair ball. We resembled an oversized can of sardines once everyone was finally stuffed into the Odyssey. The day was beautiful with a warmth that drove onlookers at the park to the shade of neighboring trees. A spirited game of tag brought a healthy glisten to the children's faces as we soaked up all the sun our pores could possibly take then headed home to the ominous to-do list:

~~sweet pulled pork burrito/salad bar~~

~~witches costume~~

~~witches make-up~~

~~vampire costume~~

~~hair~~

~~fake scars~~

~~trick or treat bags~~

~~adirondack chairs~~

~~folding table~~

~~packages of 8 oz. cups~~

~~napkins~~

~~mini marshmallows~~

~~steaming hot cocoa~~

~~fire pit~~

~~extra wood~~

~~halloween music~~

~~light jack-o-lanterns~~

~~drive teenager to party~~

~~coordinate with trick or treat friends -~~

(spend the next 60 minutes begging half the kids to slow down and the other half to hurry up!)

~~sort and count candy~~

~~watch movie~~

~~drive friends home~~

~~hot tubby/showers~~

~~hard core brushing of teeth~~

~~prayers~~

~~kisses~~

It took 4 adults to run our household that evening (thanks grammy and grandpa). I never got to enjoy the fire pit, the hot cocoa or the neighbors but I couldn't have loved the night more. I got to spend the evening with a witch a vampire and a plethora of equally exciting elementary aged characters. They needed me and even more importantly . . . they wanted me.

Eating up this time in life,

Can't stop myself from sneaking Snickers Bars

out of the kids trick-or-treat bags

What's your weakness?

Occupy Halloween

2011-10-30T21:07:00.000-07:00

check it out

2011-10-28T11:04:00.000-07:00

at your local library:

on Netflix:

make the time.
you won't be disappointed,

and so it goes

2011-10-25T13:31:00.000-07:00

The cold earth penetrated my blue jeans as I knelt in the flower bed pulling up the last of summer. The bright blooms amid the dying foliage caused waves of hot guilt to flow through me. It was as if someone had forgotten to tell them it's time to surrender to the hard freeze of fall. I stuffed them deeper into the gaping mouth of the hungry black can as I made room for their struggling counterparts. I thought about the hard work of fall clean-up, of the countless hours spent disposing of the fruits of summer and how it doesn't really matter in the end - as spring would still find me asking why I hadn't done more. My clippers found the daylilies and cut into the last of its warm, butter yellow blooms. The hostas lay limp, too tired to put up a fight as I tugged at their leaves. One season ebbs and another begins to flow.

I think of my children - how they're each moving into a new season themselves. One of increased height and confidence and independence. Equal to the determination of Mother Nature there is no stopping their march into impending adulthood. How silly of me to hope they would stay young forever. It's akin to me hoping summer will never end

yet it always does.

Dear Ola,

2011-10-10T09:54:00.000-07:00

thank you for thinking of me on a cloudy day in Dublin

and thank you for sharing your decadent chocolate-basil cake.

(created by Ola)

oh that we were enjoying a slice of it together

under the golden glow of a Utah autumn.

thinking of you today,

The Mother of All Story Problems

2011-10-06T13:04:00.000-07:00

"Now run that by me one more time . . .

Where is it you want to go?
With who?
Will there be girls there?
What's the ratio of boys to girls?
Will the parents be at home?
What are the plans for the evening?
How do you plan on getting there?
How do you plan on getting home?"

5 boys + 3 girls (- unreliable friends) + two parents + snack run - $7.56 divided by three other children who need rides/dinner/help with spontaneous art project + curfew (x the fact that the party will most likely end up being at our house last minute)=

and while my brain is going into overdrive trying to figure out the answer to the first story problem the next story problem is already on the table, demanding my undivided attention because for some reason the creator of these diabolical story problems doesn't have a moment to wait for my reasoning skills to kick in . . .

"You want to buy a whatta mcwhat what?
It does what?
ALL your friends own one?
You need it more than anything else on this earth because?
And you're going to get the money how?
And the only store that sells it is 45 minutes away?
They only have ONE left?"

"And by the way mom,

have you and dad had time

to talk about that other thing

I asked you about?

Oh, you haven't?

Will you do that when he gets home?

Great. Thanks.

So what's for dinner? . . ."

I'll just be over here

banging my head

Keepin it REAL

2011-09-29T12:26:00.000-07:00

during the King's Parade

kickin it at Rio Tinto Stadium

during REAL halftime

because he's cool like that,

In case you haven't already -

2011-09-29T08:10:00.000-07:00

click on

this

be sure to select "watch" on the right hand side bar

I promise it will be the best 21 minutes of your week

most likely even your month

Not so fast

2011-09-28T13:48:00.000-07:00

me: murphy is really doing better. don't you think?

bo: he is. he really is.

me: do you think he has finally grown up a little?

bo: yeah, i do.

me: well he's become really enjoyable.

less than 24 hours later:

later that same day

as the icing on the cake

he ATE the cake

allie's birthday cake

but only one tier of it

because, you know,

he's all sorts of grown up now.

Rock my world

2011-09-28T13:24:00.000-07:00

an old friend from our past called today
looking for my sweetheart.
as he searched for a pen
to jot down the number I was about to give him
we chatted about where our lives had taken us:

"How many kids do you have now?"

"Four. From fourteen down to seven. And you?"

"Six. We love kids. They Rock!" ultra enthusiastically

"They sure do" I mumble as I send a tired glance towards my tummy ache faker kicked back on the couch slurping up oriental ramen.

Rock on, good friend, rock on.

Sunday Cereal

2011-09-21T13:29:00.000-07:00

up without complaining?
dressed in Sunday best?
to church on time?
valiantly attempted reverence for 3 hours?

Congratulations!

That's a Big bowl of sugary, rot your teeth, take a year off your life
Sunday Cereal for you-

The only time we were allowed to indulge in sugar cereal as children was after a grueling 3 hour drive to Grandma Barbara's house. We were aptly rewarded with a healthy sized, full to the brim bowl of Honeycomb cereal. Mmmm. Grandma Barbara and Honeycomb.

I grew up, got married and lived on Marshmallow Mateys for the next 12 months. Because I could. In case you didn't know, Marshmallow Mateys are 99% marshmallows and 1% matey. Mmmm. Newlyweds and Marshmallow Mateys.

glad I got that out of my system.

park city night swim

2011-09-20T12:10:00.000-07:00

A troubled combination pulls through

2011-09-19T09:42:00.000-07:00

Brayden + Allie = good mojo
Matt + Nick = good mojo

Nick + Brayden = trouble

Allie + Matt = trouble

Nick + Allie = trouble

Brayden + Matt = trouble

the cause for much heartburn at our house

and then this email showed up in my inbox:

"I wanted to let you know yesterday I saw one of the sweetest things I have seen in a long time. The cub scouts were on a bike ride and an older boy about Brayden's age was tandem biking with a boy about Nick's age. It brought tears to my eyes. Does that boy know how lucky he is to have those opportunities? (He will when he gets older). I love your kids and the way you raise them to be the bigger person.

Thanks for allowing me to share your kids."

that's right. my little scout can't ride a bike so Big Trouble and Little Trouble hopped on a tandem bike together and passed off requirement 4f alongside the rest of the den.

good mojo or not

that's what being part of a family is all about.

if ma can do it . . .

2011-09-16T12:55:00.000-07:00

There's a turkey in my oven

and i feel extremely domestic
and a little grossed out
well, a lot grossed out

my sweetheart is the designated turkey preparer in our home because he understands that i'm just one clammy piece of poultry away from becoming a vegetarian

(a house full of carnivores wouldn't fare well with a vegetarian meal planner)

monday i began defrosting a turkey that had been tucked away in the back recesses of our deep freeze since 1998ish

(let me pause here to tell you that we've been reading "Little House in the Big Woods" as a family. it has changed me a little bit)

i decided today was the day of reckoning
the day i'd declare myself victor over the previously frozen fowl

step 1. preheat oven to 325
step 2. removed thawed turkey from bag
(16 1/2 pounds of cold flesh. feeling queasy.)

step 3. remove neck from body cavity
(oh boy. reach. gag. step away for a breather.)

step 4. remove giblet package from neck skin area
(really?! picture Laura and Mary playing with an inflated pig bladder while ma makes head cheese. gain confidence just briefly enough to make it in and out)

and then i made stuffing

from scratch

and stuffed it in the cavity that i found the neck in

i know the FDA, EPA, CIA (or someone of that sort)
said you're not supposed to do that

but i did

i eat raw cookie dough too

because frankly how bad could death by cookie dough or sage stuffing be?

i'll let you know.

fake family

2011-09-15T09:48:00.000-07:00

I've realized that I'm too opinionated.
It's taking too much energy.
When I mention that I'm going to change
family and friends seem a little skeptical.
They should be a little more supportive
in my opinion.

When Brandon was at the temple recently
a white haired gentleman pulled him aside
and asked if the family in "the commercial"
was his real family.
Hmm. So what were the other options?

I have one son who can't memorize
his multiplication tables
tie his shoes, or ride a bike.
I have another son who walks in from school each day
and throws down a stack of 100% papers.
Really, how did these two come from the same gene pool?

my mind is busy my friends.

Did you mean Sick or Sick?

2011-09-12T10:36:00.000-07:00

Conversation yesterday:

Me: "How was the meeting?"

Husband and Son: "Great."

Husband: "There was a kid with a mullet there."

Me: "That is sick!"

Son: "Mom! (disgusted face) You can't use that word!"

Sick: Adjective

sick (comparative sicker, superlative sickest)

In poor health
She was sick all day with the flu
(colloquial) Mentally unstable, disturbed.
(colloquial) In bad taste.
That's a sick joke.
Having an urge to vomit.
(slang) Very good, excellent, awesome.
This tune is sick.
Dude this car has a fully sick subwoofer!
In poor condition
(sick building syndrome; my car is looking pretty sick; my job prospects are pretty sick)

Just for the record,

when I use the word "sick" and mullet in the same sentence

I'm referring to definitions #2, #3 and #4

with an emphasis on #4

my son, on the other hand, is going with definition #5

and is now determined he'll be sporting one himself.

Could I get you some Polo to go with that?

a healthy dose of optimism + a little naiveity

2011-09-08T09:25:00.000-07:00

Do you ever sift through visuals of your past

and ponder on how little the younger version of you knew

about what the imminent future would hold?

and then do you wonder if you'll look back

on pictures of present day you

and think the same thing?

i do.

So bad it was almost good

2011-09-06T13:55:00.000-07:00

you can't appreciate professional until you've experienced unprofessional
and boy this little hill billy of a rodeo was just that -

a horse broke it's leg (flapping in the breeze kind of broken) before the rodeo even began.

about a quarter of the way into the evening all of the participants names were beginning to sound familiar. the same cowboys were competing in every event. "Now we will watch Billy Bob and Jimmy Joe ride the buckin' bronco. Now we'll watch Billy Bob and Jimmy Joe milk the wild cow. Now we'll watch Billy Bob and Jimmy Joe's sister and mama barrel race."

they were brave, I'll give them that.

but they were bad. really, really, make you feel nervous the entire rodeo, bad.

no one roped a calf. no one stayed on a bull long enough to clock a time. no one made it out of the rodeo without an injury. no one.

after nearly freezing whilst watching fireworks and listening to neil dimond's "coming to america" we returned to the cabin to find a big black sickly cow hunkered down on the edge of the property. her baby sat nearby, nuzzling up to her every few minutes. phone calls were made, authorities came, and in the end nothing could be done. so the kids had bike races, in front of a dying cow. We ate dinner on the deck while enjoying the sunset, over a dying cow. we roasted marshmallows and played guitar, in front of a dying cow.

the next day we decided to break away and take the kids on a hike. there was weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth until i pulled out some grocery sacks and excitedly announced that we were going on a treasure hunt at which point everyone piled happily out the door. apparently it's all in the presentation. (so what if God were to call this life a quiz instead of a test? better, right?) anyway, i made the mistake of letting my 6 year old take control of the camera on our "treasure hunt." I have now seen myself from angles that a person should never have to see. i'm making some lifestyle changes. right after i polish off that half eaten package of double stuffs in the cupboard.

glue factory, Billy Bob, dying cow, treasure hunt, double stuff rear end.
It was just that kind of a weekend.

little no more

2011-09-02T08:49:00.000-07:00

Little Matt and Big Matt. My son and my brother. It has been that way since the day I gave birth on August 5th,1999. But little Matt has been growing into Magnificent, Motivated, Mild-Mannered, Merciful Matt

Mighty Priesthood holder, Friend, Brother and Son

following in Big Matt's footsteps

and making a few of his own,

Weed problem

2011-09-01T08:18:00.000-07:00

solved.

happy september,

No good deed . . .

2011-08-30T07:58:00.000-07:00

I'd been trying for a month straight to reach her but to no avail. I knew she was struggling but I was at a loss as to how to help. So I did what any good woman would do. I turned to food.

Hot out of the oven I chose only the most perfectly formed for a spot on the dainty apple green plate. As I pulled up to her home she was standing in her driveway, a darling little girl glued to her side. Big brown eyes, dark wavy curls and rosebud lips. This must be the granddaughter I hadn't yet met. The little girl's angelic face lit up as I leaned down and placed the plate in her chubby outstretched hands. "Are these for me?" she squealed.

"Absolutely. But you have to promise to share."

"Oh. I promise!"

And with that she ran across the street and into a neighboring house. A moment later her mother was standing on the porch waving, a huge smile spread across her grateful face.

Not the granddaughter.

i am therefore i worry

2011-08-25T09:47:00.001-07:00

about ever-y-thing.

yesterday i was worrying about earthquake insurance

so i contacted our insurance company while i was out running errands

and they said it was approximately a gazillion dollars to purchase

so i called my better half at work

and filled him in on the gazillion dollar, earthquake, end of the world dilemma

and do you know what he said?

sweetheart. please.

buy yourself a trashy magazine and try worrying about what brad pitt is up to.

i love that man.

(my husband. not brad pitt.)

i didn't buy a magazine

but i did purchase this:

The most beautiful teacher on the face of the earth

2011-08-23T08:20:00.000-07:00

She had long auburn hair that fell into soft curls down her back, soft chocolate eyes like those of a doe, cheery freckles sprinkled daintily across the bridge of the perfect fairy like nose and knees that bent easily as she lowered herself to our level so we could speak face to face. She was an angel, a princess, a superstar in my 7 year old world.

I was slouched at my desk, arms folded, staring intently out the window as the other children's answers snaked towards me. "Pilot. Doctor. Firefighter." My stomach tightened as my turn came closer. "Nurse. Artist. Teacher." It slithered to a halt in front of me.

"A mom. I want to be a mom." My face flushed a hot shade of red. There. I'd said it. And then Mrs. Rash's goddess like face broke into a delightfully warm smile . . .

When I received the job offer it seemed like a no brainer. Working at the school with the special needs children? Perfect. And getting paid for it? An added bonus. I'd be enjoying the same hours and holidays as my children, I'd be able to get my resume up and running after 14 long years and I'd even have a little extra spending money to boot. So I accepted.

But was I done being a daytime mom just because my youngest was leaving for school? I thought and discussed and struggled and prayed and I'll share with you my very personalized, tailored for me and my family answer: my children are only young once. I want to take on the challenge of being an involved mother by signing up for field trips and class parties. I want to volunteer to be a "reading mother" and serve on the PTA board and take my kids out on lunch dates. I want to play nurse when they're sick and therapist when they're struggling. I want to plan healthy meals and clean out drawers and closets and have a yummy snack waiting for them when they walk in the door. So I declined. And it feels really good for now.

"A mom."

the amount of time i've been surrounded by children:

2011-08-22T09:31:00.000-07:00

14 1/2 years

173 months

5,190 days

124,560 hours

7,473,600 minutes

448,416,000 seconds

the amount of time it felt like:

the blink of an eye

my baby started full time school today.

tee time: 12:06 (updated***)

2011-08-02T10:27:00.000-07:00

I talked him out of wearing his tall black Nike socks to try-outs today. A mistake I realized as we pulled up to the course and a handful of Rickie Fowleresque players were proudly donning their calf huggers. My heart jumped further into my throat as I worried that maybe the ankle socks, previously foreign to him, could throw off his golf mojo. (There are, after all, a whole mess of urban legend lucky sock stories floating around)

The putting green was crawling with well-groomed, professional looking teenage boys all hoping for the same coveted spot on the High School golf team. I'm not sure what I'd been expecting but the sight made me feel excited . . . and amazingly nauseous. The morning had been full of level headed support and praise for his tenacity but the only thing that squeaked out now was "Show 'em what you're made of." It seemed to be the right sentiment as a look of gratitude swept quickly across his face.

As I watched him claim his place on the green my eyes began to water involuntarily. I quickly shifted into drive and headed towards the exit because although I don't know a lot about golf one can only assume it would adversely affect a golfer's game to have his mother crying nearby in her minivan.

Dear Golf, thank you for saving us this summer. Thank you for keeping my son from the television and video games and idle time. Thank you for drawing him daily into the sunshine and fresh air and returning him sun kissed and content to us each evening. Thank you for challenging him physically and mentally and thank you for giving him a positive place to channel all of his teenage energy. We owe you one.

*He played the first 18 holes beautifully ranking him 17th out of 36.

Playing his second round of 18 today (Wednesday).

Fifteen boys will make the team.

**He made the cut! One more round of 18 holes next week to decide the team. Go Brayden!

***Only two strokes over after the first 8 holes. Amazing! Unfortunately he didn't make the team but we are so proud of him. Did I mention that he's only been playing golf for 4 months? That's right. Four months. Can't wait to see what the future holds for this guy.

Sundays at my house

2011-07-31T19:55:00.000-07:00

Victory #1: I didn't cry today.

He has decided he loathes Sunday but as hard as he tries he's not going to make me hate it. I cling to Sunday tighter than a child to his mother. It's my reprieve, my sanctuary, fuel for my fatigued soul.

Victory #2: We missed the opening song, the opening prayer, partaking of the sacrament and sitting by our other three children but we made it there just the same.

determined to win this sabbath day struggle,

Summer is great for a lot of things

2011-07-26T16:56:00.000-07:00

blogging, I must say, is not one of them.

Every time I consider settling down to the computer

there's a new deterrent of one sort or another

but for better or for worse

summer won't last forever

i can remember life before you

2011-07-17T21:03:00.000-07:00

but i prefer not to.

happy birthday sweetheart.

The common denominator

2011-07-16T12:26:00.000-07:00

When I was growing up our home was in a constant state of organized chaos. These days my parent's home is amazingly clean. "So what is it," I wondered, "that has caused my mother to become so fastidious in her later years?"

Our four children have been at the in-laws for the past 3 days. And by golly, wouldn't you know it, my house has been clean!

And that's when it dawned on me. Maybe, my mom has always been fastidious. We just did a really excellent job at counteracting her tendencies.

It takes a village to raise a child/Eagle

2011-07-14T13:35:00.000-07:00

check out the "before" pictures HERE

Congratulations Brayden!

Way to spread your wings,

A great big thank you to:

Home Depot for donating the paint
Friends and Neighbors for donating the paint supplies
The 30 young men and adults who dedicated themselves to this project as if it were their own
our other 3 children because:

we haven't eaten dinner earlier than 9:00 p.m. this week

we haven't gotten you to bed before 10:45 every night

there isn't one square inch of clean space in our home

there is no food in the fridge or cupboards

Angry Autism is

2011-07-07T14:47:00.000-07:00

an unwelcome visitor promising to make a grandiose appearance at any given moment. It is being lulled into a state of complacency and then being painfully jarred back into it's reality. It's asking to go home 100 times a day when you're away on vacation. It's refusing to get into a car until you've pulled out of the driveway and then it runs barefoot down the burning pavement after you. It's screaming as high and loud and long as humanly possible. It's telling you it's hard being here on earth. It's asking to die over and over and over again. It is the center of attention, the thing that wakes you in the middle of the night, a suffocating weight. It's a thief.

It will eventually go away, just as it always has. I guess I wish there were some kind of schedule, maybe an Angry Autism Calendar of sorts, just so I could see an end . . .

You know your camping trip has lost it's class when~

2011-07-05T12:27:00.000-07:00

your overburdened minivan is popping a wheelie all the way up the canyon:

your sister-in-law's dinner plate looks like this:

your brother-in-law's plate looks like this:

the cherry turn-overs have morphed into this:

and this:

when "dumpy" (aptly named after being pulled from a dumpster) springs a leak and an electric extension cord is tied on to keep it near shore:

the males are thrilled at the discovery of an old chicken leg resulting in the catch of numerous crayfish:

peanut butter and freezer jam sandwiches are passed up in lieu of this:

Uncle Bo's homespun tunes involving crawdads and deer demands an encore:

Here's hoping your holiday was filled with

family, laughter and questionable food,

I'm tired

2011-06-30T08:38:00.000-07:00

and when I'm tired

my ability to handle everyday life is diminished

and that lessens my ability to feel hope

and then I feel depressed

and I have to remind myself . . .

it's nothing a little sleep won't fix.

Bedtime, early tonight.

Paid in Kind -

2011-06-27T22:21:00.000-07:00

When we gave our name at the front desk the receptionist picked up a receiver and said in a low voice "the Rosses are here." A moment later a suit clad blonde was standing by our side, hand extended. "If you need anything, anything at all, you've got my direct extension." We were given express instructions that all charges were to be made to our room and would be covered in full by the hotel upon our departure. We were then directed to our room where we were welcomed by a colorful fruit arrangement along side a very kind letter of thanks. The television in the bedroom was turned to a station that was playing nothing but our commercial. Nick reached up and wrapped his arms around my neck, pulled me close and exclaimed "Mom, this IS grand!"

some highlights: the complimentary treats that kept showing up at our door at exactly the right times, getting crazy in the pool with the kids, shopping, the Arts Festival, the look on my sweetheart's face when Zach introduced himself as Brandon's masseuse for the couples massage, standing on the balcony watching the lightening with my little brood

I have to admit that although I was initially livid with Brandon for roping us into this commercial the payoff has been wonderful. I allowed myself to be stretched, to step well beyond the bounds of my comfort zone, and in the end we were rewarded with a truly amazing experience.

So what are you waiting for?

Nominate a deserving person in your life for a Grand weekend by clicking here: Life Is Grand

it's easy.

and the best part? no cameras involved.

Bury:

2011-06-27T21:26:00.001-07:00

"A 'swoosh' (a successful SHOT that only touches the net after it leaves the hands of a player). Otherwise known as a perfect shot. You will hear people use the Basketball Phrase 'Nothin' but Net!'which is the same as a bury"

Brayden is going to "Bury" this Eagle project!

Childhood

2011-06-20T21:54:00.000-07:00

warm skin, freckles, band aids, tousled hair, absence of personal space

"A sibling may be the keeper of one's identity, the only person with the key to one's unfettered, more fundamental self."

~ Marian Sandmaier

"The years between fifty and seventy are the hardest.

2011-06-15T06:26:00.000-07:00

You are always being asked to do things, and yet you are not decrepit enough to turn them down."

- T.S. Eliot

in Boston at the blessing of her 19th grandbaby

Happy Birthday to the most selfless woman I know.

This isn't going well

2011-06-15T06:19:00.000-07:00

I haven't exercised in approximately forever.

I went running/walking today

and I'm not sure which hurt worse

the knotted calves

the burning lungs

or the aching side.

uncle.

Why is it

2011-06-13T08:50:00.000-07:00

when you wake in the middle of the night

your mind moves faster than it has all day

until it's spinning out of control

with all of your inadequacies

and mistakes

and responsibilities

and your mental to-do list grows unnaturally long

as you think of all of the things you need to get done

and each one feels so life-threateningly urgent

causing your breathing to become rapid and shallow

throwing you into a physical state of panic?

And isn't it funny that if you're lucky enough to force yourself back into a fitful sleep you wake up with only a foggy recollection of that mile long list?

today's to-do list:

play with children

I'm sure I'll remember the rest at 4:00 a.m. tomorrow,

Can't blog today . . . too busy

2011-06-10T09:07:00.000-07:00

busy cleaning the sliding glass door that will be covered in water balloon sludge in less than 5 minutes, busy mopping the floor that will have purple otter pop splattered across it by midday, busy finishing the paint job in the basement that was started 6 months ago, busy feeding 15 little mouths at lunchtime, busy cleaning out the fridge and rearranging 15 varieties of salad dressing and busy counting the other 42 condiments crowding my refrigerator, busy shuttling to and from the golf course and lacrosse and tumbling and guitar and scouts, busy sun blocking, busy intervening in fights, busy painting tiny toenails the colors of the rainbow . . .

so maybe tomorrow

but not today,

P.S. Happy to report that the annual Chad Lewis Golf Classic went swimmingly this year. My sweetheart sits on the board of the Utah/Idaho Chapter of the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation and he dedicates countless hours to making this tournament a success each year. He does it for my brother, Matt, who fights CF everyday. He does it for Matt's wife, for Matt's twin boys, for our mom and dad, for me, for himself. He's buying us all more time with the one we love.

johnny miller

promontory point

Oh dear

2011-06-02T15:20:00.000-07:00

It was the perfect idea, for about one minute

2011-05-31T19:44:00.000-07:00

It seemed like a good idea at the time, a great way to incorporate his one true passion into his 3rd grade economics fair. Unfortunately the trouble started just after we'd purchased the Lego raffle prize . . . he'd ripped into it the second he was out of my sight. It continued on through today as numerous nine year old classmates purchased hundreds of raffle tickets in an attempt to take home the coveted inch high Jack Sparrow.

A little boy rushed up to the desk and handed over all his money in exchange for 163 tickets. "This is a bad idea," Nick whispered, beads of sweat forming on his brow. "Can I put my name in the drawing?" And then it hit me. I'd purchased the very thing he wanted to own with the intent of giving it away. No small feat for a child on the spectrum, or for anyone else for that matter. Bad mom moment. His suffering increased with the sale of each ticket.

As the fair was growing to a close, a small red-head carrying a live goldfish made his way across the room. Setting it on the desk he beamed "This is for you Nick. It's the last one. You don't have to pay me for it." He then purchased 10 tickets, scribbled his name across each one and stuffed them into the raffle box.

And the winner of the Legos at the end of the day? Mr. 10 ticket fish giver, fair and square. Nick didn't seem to have such a hard time giving them away after all.

(thanks for the lesson in frosting Em!)

No children were (permanently) harmed in the making of this film

2011-05-31T07:55:00.000-07:00

We attached the Go Pro to Nick's little friend and sent them off to do whatever it is kids do . . .

Brilliant, right?

Now we can see what our children are doing 24/7.

Especially handy for those upcoming dating years.

a day to remember . . .

2011-05-30T15:29:00.000-07:00

(one of our favorite veterans)

happy memorial day

greeted this morning by snow and flooding

"It will give you experience for if you happen to have a problem like this later in life...

2011-05-26T22:27:00.000-07:00

Video Courtesy of KSL.com

...you already have the experience of riding a stick horse!"

i love utah

Hey you

2011-05-26T08:12:00.000-07:00

Yeah, you, there in Ireland. I look forward to seeing you light up on my world map every day. It makes me smile.

U2

2011-05-25T08:19:00.000-07:00

with the beat pounding in my chest

and the breeze rolling across my skin

I felt young

and alive

afterwards we bypassed TRAX

and opted for the 3.5 mile midnight walk

back to our cars

by the time we fell into bed

with 5 short hours left 'til morning

I felt old

and dead

and happy,

9 days and counting

2011-05-23T07:58:00.000-07:00

their jeans are too short

and they have holes in the knees

their shoes are all too small

with holes in the soles

shirts have been stained

or outgrown

backpack zippers have ceased to zip

school bins are overflowing

every day of the week is overbooked

my counter is blanketed in "reminder notes"

and "to-do" lists

I need to call a time out . . .

Cougar in the ravine

2011-05-18T21:05:00.000-07:00

At least it draws the eye away from our weed laden landscape.

Kindness Immortalized

2011-05-17T08:20:00.000-07:00

If I take enough photos of these fleeting moments of amiability will I be able to manipulate their childhood memories when they're adults?

"Remember how you always helped each other with homework?"

Isn't it interesting that so many of a person's

childhood memories are tied to photographs?

The Have and Have Nots

2011-05-16T08:09:00.001-07:00

It feels like those who have experienced it tend to divide society into two camps of people - those who have seen it and those who have not. I've been in the "have nots"

. . . until now.

I snuck away with the girls over the weekend

and I'm pleased to report that we Defied Gravity.

Hatchet Job

2011-05-11T16:15:00.000-07:00

We've been invited to dinner by one of my husband's clients. They asked us to bring fruit. I hate fruit.

Last time I bought a watermelon I asked a random gentleman in the produce section to pick it out for me. "I'm never wrong," he said. And he wasn't wrong. It was to die for.

I tried picking out a watermelon for tonight. It's awful. It's grainy, runny, slushy awful. And I can't cut it straight. It's running down my apron onto my jeans and all over my kitchen floor. Why, for the love of Pete, can I not pick out a good piece of fruit?!

I just wanted to say publicly one more time

hate

fruit.

Hard to be him

2011-05-10T08:43:00.001-07:00

I gave my 14 year old and his friend a lift to school early this morning. As they exited the car something clattered unnoticed to the pavement below. While I was pulling away I glanced in my rear view mirror and noticed the friend's cell phone lying in pieces on the asphalt. I pulled my grocery getter over to the cherry red curb, gathered up the scraps and sprinted inside. As I hurried down the hall I spotted my son rustling around in his locker. He had just glanced in my direction when a look of recognizable terror crossed his face. An audible noise escaped his lips, a contorted sound somewhere between "oh" and "eww." It was unmistakable, my presence in his junior high surroundings was mortifying. If he thinks that's embarrassing . . .

wait until his friends see this little ditty on their television screens:

(rough draft)

That's right.

Your mom and dad are kissing.

ON TV!

The production company who filmed the commercial is responsible for over half of these ads. Our family loves cuddling into the big red sofa with a double serving of ice cream and watching them for family night. Check them out.

Fire Pit Party

2011-05-06T21:05:00.000-07:00

no stitches, no broken bones, no concussions, no burns, no heimlich maneuvers, no puncture wounds, no food poisoning, no drowning, no fist fights . . .

hallelujah,

It got me to thinking . . .

2011-05-05T09:02:00.001-07:00

He ran for Student Council yesterday. He didn't make it. A handful of his friends admittedly told him they hadn't voted for him . . . because they didn't want him to miss any recess time next year due to Student Council duties. They love their time with him too much.

I thought about myself and wondered if I've ever hesitated to cheer someone on because of my own self interests. How often have I, as an adult, presumed to know someone else's dreams better than they knew them themselves? It drew me back to the quote I keep on the sidebar of this blog:

"The best compliment to a child or a friend is the feeling you give him that he has been set free to make his own inquiries, to come to conclusions that are right for him, wether or not they coincide with your own."

Alistair Cooke

What an effective mother, wife, friend, sister, daughter and neighbor I'd be.

Lego Overload

2011-05-05T07:55:00.000-07:00

It will be a sad day

when it comes to an end,

. . . unless of course Nick's obsession lasts into adulthood

in which case I will be cursing them over the next five decades.

with "Self Proclaimed Loser" in the subject line

2011-05-04T13:04:00.000-07:00

I sent an email to Allie's teacher at 11:45 pm -

"I just sat down to go over my May calendar this evening at which point, of course, I realized I was scheduled to help in your classroom today . . ."

Sometimes I have a difficult time transitioning from one month to the next. (Is anyone else mentally stuck in February?)

Luckily I did remember my kindergarten chaperone duties this morning.

Her first ever bus ride + a day at the nature reserve:

His eyes roll . . . a LOT

2011-05-02T07:42:00.000-07:00

like the other night

when we were watching the REAL game

and I was cheering quietly from my corner

I looked over and noticed his eyes were rolling

and his head was shaking slightly from side to side

and the next day when he was looking at the photos

from the commercial shoot that his dad I and were in

his eyes rolled almost to the very back of his head

his face was contorted and it was obvious

that he experiencing severe pain.

I worry about him.

Complicated

2011-04-29T08:11:00.000-07:00

He has one friend that actively seeks him out. One friend who invites him to his home and takes him on family outings. One friend that encourages him to get out of his comfort zone. One friend that engages him in the world around them.

But this friend has his own struggles, which may be why their spirits were drawn to each other in the first place. Together they do not create the healthiest of friendships. It's a friendship that any other mother probably would have severed months ago but my thoughts have been complicated. I've sat through too many support group meetings listening to the sadness that comes when a child has no true friends, a very real problem for children with autism. Oh how I fear this for my own son.

We finally sat Nick down and broke the news. I had braced myself for an angry, lego smashing, door slamming, screaming fit but it never came. He placed his little hands over his face and cried silent crocodile tears. "But I have no friends. No one likes me. He is my best friend." He cried himself to sleep. His tears continued through this morning as he pulled his backpack on for school.

My tears started as soon as the house fell silent. Oh please, let him find a friend that loves him, that needs Nick as much as Nick needs him. Let him have a friendship that is easy, and peaceful and positive. Please let his broken heart mend.

A Method to His Madness

2011-04-25T21:11:00.000-07:00

The brief onslaught of angry hail left just as suddenly as it had arrived leaving behind a breathtaking sight. As I was looking heavenward a small figure caught the corner of my eye. It was a stocking footed, ruddy cheeked, wild haired boy running as fast as a child's legs would carry him. "What is he doing?!" the confused voices around me chimed. It took me but a moment to realize . . . he was racing to the end of the rainbow.

He believes in magic.

Thank goodness it wasn't MY kid

2011-04-25T07:50:00.000-07:00

29 of us, gathered quietly in the living room, waiting for the annual Easter program to begin. My mother sits down to the piano and begins to play, but there is no sound. "The keys are stuck," she says. "Someone has stuffed something in the keys." I settle comfortably into my husbands side as we wait for the problem to be resolved. How wonderful, I think to myself, that all of our children have outgrown that stage. I look suspiciously at the 3 year old twins and their 3 year old cousin running in and out of the back door . . .

"It's Silly Putty!" she announces. I bound up from my cozy seat on the couch and peer into the same small crack in the Baby Grand that she and three others are staring through. Sure enough, a Super Size amount of Silly Putty has been flattened like a pancake and slipped into an unreachable place, rendering all of the major keys useless. I look over at the birthday boy who had received the Silly Putty as a gift not 10 minutes earlier from the pianist herself. "Sorry," he says sheepishly as he shrugs his shoulders.

dang it.

He is not here

2011-04-23T21:21:00.000-07:00

for he is risen.

Hotel, House and Derby

2011-04-22T12:34:00.000-07:00

done, done and done

and as for speedy blue, well, he wasn't very speedy

but he was awarded Most Luminous Paint Job.

His owner glowed all the way home.

in over our heads

2011-04-20T07:11:00.000-07:00

My sweetheart and I have agreed to be in a television commercial for a 5 star hotel located in downtown Salt Lake. I thought we were agreeing to a short interview in a cozy orange couch at the studio. Not so.

The Call Sheet -

(just kill me now . . .)

9:45 shoot couple arriving at the hotel

10:45 shoot wife reading on the terrace by tulips

11:45 shoot couple enjoying themselves at the pool/hot tub

12:45 shoot wife at Spa enjoying facial

2:15 shoot couple enjoying room service, eating chocolate

3:30 shoot wife in bathroom getting ready for a night out

4:30 crew moves to couples home

6:00 shoot dad on couch talking about his wife

Shoot mother helping with home work

shoot mother preparing lunch

shoot mother getting ready for pinewood derby/lacrosse

When I questioned the the director about his client's sanity he said "They want to send the message that it's not only the rich and beautiful that can stay at their hotel."

proudly representing the poor and unsightly -

Looking forward

2011-04-19T07:50:00.000-07:00

to being on the other end of this.

He'd intended to paint blue flames on the sides

but as the mistakes multiplied

the paint grew thicker and thicker

until finally he was swirling it around and around

in one big blue and silver sparkly mess . . .

kind of like our lives.

Thank goodness for the intermittent sparkles.

the end of the school year is drawing near . . .

2011-04-15T07:52:00.000-07:00

My personal favorites:

"Why do the people on the Mayflower make the dangerous journey?" They Wanna

"Turn to pages 176 and 177. Write a question from these two pages." no thanks

could be a long 6 weeks 'til summer,

It's raining, it's pouring

2011-04-13T13:39:00.000-07:00

(and if you live in Utah chances are it's snowing) I've always thought it would be great to give someone a cheery umbrella along with a homemade CD full of rainy day songs. I don't have the umbrella but enjoy the rain filled songs ~

a new playlist just for April,

It's all about your heart

2011-04-12T08:20:00.000-07:00

When he was first diagnosed

our world revolved around one thing and one thing only, finding a cure.

We researched, we worked, we fasted, we prayed,

we asked God for a miracle

but God had already given us our miracle.

Happy Birthday

to one of the greatest miracles

a mother has ever received,

This song speaks perfectly to the love I have for my imperfect boy :

"All About Your Heart"

by Mindy Gledhill

I don't mind your odd behavior

It's the very thing I love

If you were an ice cream flavor

You would be my favorite one

My imagination sees you

Like a painting by Van Gogh

Starry nights and bright sunflowers

Follow you where you may go

Oh, I've loved you from the start

In every single way

And more each passing day

You are brighter than the stars

Believe me when I say

It's not about your scars

It's all about your heart

You're a butterfly held captive

Small and safe in your cocoon

Go on you can take your time

Time is said to heal all wounds

Chorus

Like a lock without a key

Like a mystery without a clue

There is no me if I cannot have you

Do you ever wonder how you're coming across?

2011-04-11T07:40:00.000-07:00

not me.

I have an artist in residence

who keeps me up to speed.

Speaking of worrying about how things look . . .

I was talking with a seasoned mother over the weekend

telling her that it's hard not to worrying

about what others think of my children at times.

She said that she used to worry about it as well

but then she realized that no one is judging.

"No one wants to see someone else's child fail," she said

and I believe she's right.

So lets raise our glasses to a toast ~

here's to cheering each other on

Basking

2011-04-07T10:55:00.000-07:00

I watched a young mother from across the pool as she cuddled her little one to her. I loved those days. I loved watching my babies hair turn platinum and their skin turn golden as we enjoyed summer vacations poolside. I wanted it to last forever . . . but it didn't.

They outgrew the need for swim diapers, they grew tall enough to touch the bottom of the pool, they learned how to hold their breath, and float and eventually swim. And let me just say, it's fabulous.

it's about loving the time you're in,

"Mom, will you play with me?"

2011-04-01T07:38:00.000-07:00

"Right after I get the littles ready for school"

"Right after I get the kitchen cleaned up."

"Right after I get this laundry folded."

"Right after the meeting at the school."

"Right after support group."

"Can we move this game to tomorrow? . . ."

Alright Mr. Matt, you're on!

Happy Spring Break,

Nick for Mayor

2011-03-31T07:45:00.000-07:00

He's the "WRITE" guy for the job!

He's "EGG"sactly what Chocolate City Needs!

Is it really so wrong to chuck scissors?

(after all, they were blunt tipped)

And is it so unforgivable to scatter fellow student's papers?

And really, how was one to know the King Size Butterfinger

in the neighbors desk had already been spoken for?

Let's be fair.

I think he'll make the PERFECT politician!

Lets hope his fellow Chocolate City Citizens see it the same way,

he lost

but he's happy.

reason 1,000,320 that he's so great.

Is there hitting in lacrosse?

2011-03-30T16:36:00.001-07:00

Utah Lacrosse Association

to me

show details 4:34 PM (0 minutes ago)

INFORMATIONAL EMAIL ONLY,
PLEASE DO NOT REPLY

Herriman Lacrosse is proud to present:Concussion Awareness Seminar TONIGHT!
SportsMed Utah
6:30pmAnybody and everybody is welcome to attend!

The warning sewn to the inside of his glove:

This lacrosse glove will not prevent or protect against all injuries. You risk severe and crippling injury or even death when playing lacrosse. Do not use if damaged in any way.

oh dear.

"Why do boys have to be so dumb?"

2011-03-30T06:37:00.001-07:00

my friend asked me as we were discussing the drama of who was asking who to Jr. Prom this year. My mind wandered back to my own Junior year of High School.

I was a Junior Class Officer assigned to head up the decorating committee for Jr. Prom. The committee and I had been working tirelessly for weeks, determined that this event would be "Spectucular! Spectacular!" A couple weekends before the big event the boy I was dating pulled me aside and said "You don't really want to go to prom do you?" (more of a statement than a question) "Well good. There's a pair of (Air Jordan) shoes I've been wanting to buy."

See? Maybe boys aren't so dumb.

Those shoes lasted a heckuva lot longer than his relationship with the head of the decorating committee . . .

The 4-1-1 on the 9-1-1

2011-03-28T07:33:00.000-07:00

Why did you call 9-1-1?

I am not sure.

(curiosity. playing with a friend. They hung up immediately when 911 answered)

How did you feel when they called back?

Like my stomach was going to break into pieces.

Then what did you do?

I looked for Dad and You.

(I was at Home Depot. Brandon, who had been working in the yard, had stepped next door to help the neighbor carry in a piece of furniture.)

What did the lady on the phone say when you couldn't find us?

She didn't say anything. She just stayed on the phone.

(when I pulled up to the house 6 minutes later Nick handed me the phone and I had the privilege of explaining to the lady at emergency services why our autistic 8 year old hadn't known where his parents were.)

How do you feel about 9-1-1?

I am never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever going to call it again. I didn't really call 9-1-1. It was a big joke! Can we stop talking about this?

I'm typing this with my mouth full

2011-03-26T10:22:00.000-07:00

I'm hungry. All the time. Do you have weeks like that? You know the kind - You've just fixed yourself a big plate of nachos and while you're mouth is busy inhaling them your brain is busy planning the next fat laden, sugary delight in your 7 course mid afternoon snack.

I went out to lunch with the girls and ordered a chicken, artichoke panini sandwich with a side of pesto, a bowl of butternut squash soup and a extra large molasses cookie. When that was finished off I started in on my mothers dinner roll while I hungrily eyed my sister-in-laws untouched soup . . .

I find myself falling into the offensive habit of talking with my mouth full. At the table, on the phone, in the shower. It's physically impossible NOT to talk with my mouth full right now. My mouth is always full. I'm the female counterpart to Brad Pitt's character in Oceans Eleven.

My sweetheart and I were invited to attend the Jazz vs. Hornets game with a client and his wife Thursday evening. The night included pre-game dining at the Lexus Club. It was an absolute schmorgasboard complete with all-you-can eat jumbo shrimp, crab legs, ribs, cajun stuffed mushrooms, feta stuffed tomatoes . . . oh stop me now! When I was as stuffed as one of those tomatoes we were led to sleek leather court side seats, directly behind the TV announcers. We each had individual television sets on which we quickly tuned into the BYU NCAA game. I munched happily on the candy coated mints I had stuffed my pockets with on our way out of the "whooty who" club. Just when my mint supply began to run low our hosts informed us that it was "half-time dessert bar" back at the Lexus Club. One cannoli, one slice of carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, two large bites of Brandon's decadent chocolate dessert followed by a helping of nachos. (It was a sports event after all!)

I rolled myself back to my leather perch to happily cheer on the sweaty, 7 foot, tattoo laden basketball players running the court just a few feet away. I had just popped a milk dud in my mouth when our friend pointed out the fact I was on television. I focused in on the announcer's screen and sure enough, there I was, cheeks like a chipmunk, happily munching on the world's chewiest milk dud . . .

talking with my mouth full.

check out the price of my ticket

and tell me it wasn't right to eat that much.