A Celebration

It's late, dark and quiet.  I should be asleep - Bundle seems to think I'm getting altogether too much sleep lately and she's doing what she can to remedy the situation.  Her siblings are pitching in.  But that's beside the point.  I'm up and enjoying the quiet darkness because it gives me a chance to, well, think, frankly.  And ponder.  And reminisce.

Yesterday, I can hardly believe, was the fourth anniversary of baby Matthew's passing and birth.  Time is such a funny thing.  It makes things so far away and so close all at the same time, and I can't decide if it feels more like hours or decades since we lost him.  It's interesting how peaceful Troy and I feel, how happy we are to celebrate the wonderful part Matthew plays in our lives, and yet May 5th always puts me in a funk.  It's like I have a little link I can open any time that takes me back to that day as if it were the present, and not the quickly lenthening past.  I can feel just what I felt that day, and it always rocks me a little.  It's okay.  I am actually happy to still  be able to totally emotionally connect with that day, even if it is kind of tough.

I am happy this year because I feel like I was able to celebrate just the way I wanted to.  In years past I have felt much more of a desire for quiet contemplation, which the kids seem to make an absolute impossibility.  It's hard to remember that despite their youth they feel the impact of the day as well and seem to express it by going somewhat berserk.  But this year, after a busy busy day, which I knew we could not avoid, we had family alone time all evening long.  We picked up some yummy dinner and took it to the park where the kids had such a wonderful time just running, swinging, romping and basically getting completely filthy.  It felt like a celebration of the life that we are living, of the children that we're so blessed to have.

After the park we headed to the party store and each picked out a balloon in order to send our traditional notes to Matthew via helium.  This year's collection of colors was quite eccelectic.  Dark blue for Troy, shimmery light green for me, I think a turquoise for Bundle which she actually did pick out herself.  Bitty picked a blue balloon printed with a baby motif, and Stomper picked an electric green with black tiger stripes.  Every year we seem to have trouble getting all our balloons successfully launched.  We seem to get at least two stuck in the trees in our back yard.  We contemplated perhaps choosing a different location with fewer trees but at this point Troy and I felt that we had to take on the challenge of our back yard, and it was a close call.  After writing our notes, always a very tender and therapeutic exercise for me, we took the tactic of securing our papers not at the end of the long strings but close to the balloon and then trimming the strings.  I let mine go first.  It went straight into the trees, but due to our very wise trimming of the string, did not get tangled permanently and eventually caught the breeze and floated heavenward.  Mine was the only near miss, and we cheered as our colorful bouquet made its way into the sky. 

I love how it's been long enough now that there has been some progression with the note writing.  Stomper was so excited to write his and he did it, all on his own. I don't know what he wrote.  I'm so curious, but it's his private message to his brother so I didn't even ask.  Even Bitty this year could write her note herself, though she asked for much spelling help.  Maybe next year Bundle will want to send a message as well.

Finally, after Troy and I tucked our tired babes into their beds, we had chance to do my other favorite thing we do every year.  We sit on the couch together and read over every single card and letter we receieved regarding Matthew, look at the pictures I took of flowers we were sent, and look at our memorabilia from the hospital.  It is extremely tender and as much as I feel the difficult things from that day I also feel the extreme love and support that surrounded us.  It ended up being such a special day.

Beloved Oma

After our quick trip to the south of the state, we returned in time to celebrate my momma's birthday.  It was a quiet affair - I am the only sibling in town - but we had a nice time.  Pizza at their place, followed by a pinata instead of a cake.  I guess my mom thought it would be more fun for the kids, so she and dad went to Zurchers (I don't know how to pronounce that either, by the way) and got a nice little pinata and then filled it with about 10 pounds of the best candy they could find.  It cost them about 60 bucks or something!  Kind of funny.  But yes, the kids loved it.  We also showered my mom with gifts - the sharpest cheddar cheese we could find, tools for her aquadoodle set, with which she loves playing with the kids, and a lovely little scarf that I am now coveting for myself.  My birthday is just around the corner......

Spring Break/A Break from Spring

Bad Blogger!  Bad!  Okay, now that I have sufficiently shamed myself for the lack of blogging, I'm going to continue the post I started days ago and pretend like nothing happened. :)

Shhhhh....do you hear that?  Guess what.  Neither do I.  That's because no one is here.  Yes, it's Monday (okay...Wednesday....) afternoon and my big kids are back to school and little Bundle is sound asleep.  Ahhhhhhh.  Spring break has come and gone. And I'm going to go ahead and claim that as the reason for my long blogging lag.  (I'm always coming up with excuses these days, aren't I?)  Actually, spring is turning out to be not so springy here in Salt Lake City.  It's grey, it's cold, it's rainy. Thus a trip to St. George to visit my brother and his family seemed more than warranted.  We had a lovely lovely time.  The first day down there was overcast, which dampened my sis-in-law's mood, considering the fact that it was her birthday.  (She turned 27 - isn't that cute?  I remember turning 27 a really really long time ago....)  We enjoyed a lot of time outside on their tramp and playing at the local splash park too.  We did a little hike through Chuckwalla Canyon (I think?) and Stomper did his very best to catch a lizard, to no avail. Here are some of my favorite pix from the trip:

 

 

We loved getting away from the dreariness of Spring...wait, that sounded wrong.  I guess I can't complain too much - the sun is shining right now, but it is supposed to snow on Friday.  Wah!!!!

Gone Fishing

I can hardly blame Stomper for his latest obsession: "River Monsters," a t.v. show in which this very tough, leathery old guy by the name of Jeremy Wade goes fishing. Not just regular fishing, mind you.  He's after fish you wouldn't believe - absolute monsters which are often surrounded by tales of having eaten people and/or their various body parts.  It's a recipe for perfection as far as Stomper is concerned - there's a little blood and carnage (mild reenactment only...wait, I take that back. Jeremy has been chomped a time or two), lots and lots of big teeth, plus the fish are always set free after being wrestled in. Keep in mind, it was Stomper who sobbed at the end of the movie "Godzilla" when the people win the fight against the mighty beast.

As Stomper has been spending time watching Mr. Wade, I've seen an increase in this type of art work:

 

The first drawing shows a shark eating a fish that's already been caught - apparently bull sharks swim up rivers and wait for fishermen to catch things for them.  You can see how confusing this is for the fishermen.  And in the second shot you can see the amount of exertion it takes to snag a shark out of a river.  Also miraculous was the day I walked into Stomper's room and found him reading. Folks, mine is not the child who has developed an undying love of reading.  Yet.  But there he was, sitting down with a book and reading it out loud in fascination.  Of course, it was the River Monsters book that he picked out from the last book order.  Thank you, Jeremy Wade.  

I actually found a piece of paper in the living room the other day that was a letter.  "Dear Jeremy," it read, "I love River Monsters...." etc.  It turns out that Stomper is planning on inviting Mr. Wade to dinner the next time he comes fishing in North America.  I'm encouraging him to finish his letter and send it to the angler in the hopes of at least getting a signed photo if not an actual dinner guest.  The question is, if I ever did end up with a celebrity fisherman at my table, do I dare to serve anything other than fish?

Don't Ask How I Know This

I bet you're wondering why I've posted a picture of this tiny, scrambled up bit of rubbery purple stuff.   Especially when it's something that I found under the rug the other day. At least, I think it was under the rug.  It may have been something I swept up or dug out from a crevice in the floor or something.  In any case, it was garbage.  The reason I'm posting it is because the moment I saw it  I knew exactly what it was and I shouted in amazement because it's something I spent HOURS looking for about two years ago.  It just so happens that mangled little thing is Ariel's Bra.  You know... her seashells?  Bitty got a polly-pocket-sized Ariel doll many moons ago.  It, like so many other toys for preschoolers, came with several accessories such as her shoes (each approximately the size of a single grain of rice) which are so tiny that the use of a magnifying glass is required when putting them on the doll.  And of course all those little things get lost instantly, causing floods of tears from your 4 year old daughter.  The shoes went first, naturally.  That wasn't such a big deal because Ariel still had her fin.  A little more disconcerting was the loss of her scanty top, thus illustrating the toy manufactuer's lack foresight because poor Ariel was left looking like she was going swimming on a nude beach.  I got a lot of questions from Bitty's fellow preschoolers.  I looked for that dang little top for weeks.  Almost as long as I looked for mini-Cinderella's missing glass slipper - fitting that she only lost one of them, don't you think?  Finally we replaced the little streaker with an updated doll who came equiped with a more permanant, painted-on pair of shells. And then, lo and behold, the bra makes a sudden appearance.  Where did it go?  Did it migrate much?  How sad is it that I was able to instantly identify it?  Pretty sad.  Well, little seashells, I'm going to send you back into the ebb and flow of the garbage because sadly, that's where Ariel already went.  (Yikes, now I'm thinking about Toy Story 3; I hope I didn't hurt Ariel's feelings too bad when I threw her away!)

Solution to the Mommy Problem

Homework, oh homework.  You are making life between Stomper and his mother rather challenging these days.  I try to be nice - and I am.  For a while.  And he tries to be nice.  Briefly.  And then he starts with the contradictions and distractions and bouncing off the wall, almost literally.  No, actually it's sometimes literally.  I have to ask that kid to do each separate task at least eight times.  I just can't quite bring myself to set him afloat on his own personal ocean of homework all along.  So a couple of hours later we're both close to tears.  On one particular day last week, Stomper and I were kneeling by the bed pounding through another afternoon of homework.  As I was dragging Stomper along by his big toe, he valiantly resisting all the way, I broke down and dropped my head into my arms to take a few quiet breaths before braving the next battle.  Clever little Stomper - he knew how to soften up his mommy!  I felt him climb on my back and begin a surprisingly soothing massage, giggling madly all the while because he knew exactly what he was doing.  Sheesh - even that tiny little wedge of my face shows the bags under my eyes....

Baking Attempts

I have this new analogy for parenting. Count on me to relate it to food.  So picture this.  You decide to make a cake.  Yum.  We all love cake, right?  Instantly you get a mental image of your cake.  Mine?  Chocolate, definitely.  With fresh raspberries and maybe a layer of ganache in the middle.  Swirls of buttercream frosting coating everything.  I'd even like to make the top look nice with some chocolate shavings or something.  And you get kind of excited - you can picture just how delectable it is going to be! Then you start to make it. And reality hits.  Your oven doesn't heat evenly and so the cakes come out lopsided.  You can't find your ganache recipe so you kind of make it up and it ends up too runny and drips all over the place.  Your raspberries are too ripe and end up on the mushy side.  And as you're trying to at least put some pretty frosting holding it all together it all just starts dripping down the sides and no matter how you scoop it and scoop it up it all just sags down the sides until it ends up in a puddle on the platter.  The final result?  A bit of a mess:

I mean, it's still delicious, still chocolatey, still covered in creamy yumminess.  It just doesn't quite look like the cake you pictured in your head.  After a brief run through the stages of grief, (Anger at the cake, Bargaining with the cake, Depression about the cake....) you finally come to acceptance.  Oh well, you think, whatever.  Just get me a plate and a fork and cut me a piece of that funny looking, delicious chocolate cake!

This is how I feel about parenting.  I just keep trying for that gorgeous cake and life is just a little messier than that.  At least I'm in the kitchen, right?  At least I haven't pitched my cake out the window and into the neighbor's yard.  I'm still baking.  It's delicious.

As a side note, I noticed myself doing something rather odd the other day - and after thinking through my cake analogy I can hardly blame myself.  Bitty had accidently brought home a duplicate of a worksheet she had to complete.  I had the compulsion to work on the extra one along side her.  It was the best homework page I ever did.  Just look!

Yes, I can hear you all going, "Cuckoo!  Cuckoo!"  Leave me alone.  I can't tell you how satisfying it was to see a simple task with clear instructions placed before me.  Something for which I knew exactly what was expected of me and then I carried out the task perfectly, with some creativity and a correct answer at the completion of the task. This is not something I encounter often in parenting.  It was very therapeutic.

The First Annual Team Firestorm Bike Fest

What a gorgeous morning.  It was crisp and cold and clear.  We had a stormy day on Friday, and expect another again today, but for Saturday morning, it was perfect.  Saturday was the birthday of our friend Ben,who passed away in October. His family and friends decided to celebrate the day by holding an event in honor of his favorite past-time - cycling.  An absolutely huge group of people met at the mouth of Emigration Canyon this morning and rode the canyon together. (Well, I rode in a truck in order to be the photographer of the day.  I really need to get on a bike at some point so I can take part next year! Taking all the pictures was really fun, though.)  It was so incredible and quite awe-inspiring to see that number of people all gathering to honor and celebrate Ben and his family.  The energy was happy and poignant.  And powerful.  I'm sure Ben got to spend a few mintues with us there today.  He is missed. I'm so thankful to have had the chance to see the smiles on the faces of his friends and wife and adorable kids, and to see a collected group of people united in celebration of his wonderful life.  Happy Birthday, Ben.

Allison the Awesome

Allison and her Darling Kids

My Troy as he was pulling into the parking lot before the race

My long-time 'back door' neighbor Kathryn, isn't she lovely?

Kenton, Kathryn, Troy GHD3 (my old next door neighbor), My Troy and Rob H.

My Troy, at the top

GHD3, of good cheer, as always!

Two Very Tough Chicks - Melissa and Lisa - I gotta try harder to emulate these two gorgeous gals...

Take A Picture; It'll Last Longer

Somehow the light pink seems less offensive than 100% Cougar Blue would.  This is the shirt I found Bundle in when I picked her up from the home of our Cougarite Friends on the day of BYU's Sweet 16 game. I could hardly object - the family would actually be coming into our home that night to watch the game with us.  We did our best to make it a fun night - we scootched the couches up close to the t.v. We got pizza and made salad and treats.  We even cheered our hearts out for BYU.  It was such a great game!  So close!  BYU and Florida were tied at the end of regulation - how exciting.  Our friends were so anxious they couldn't even sit - they had to stand up and pace around. And rock back and forth from time to time. I was a little afraid we would have to administer CPR because I thought at least one of them would pass out.  Which is why it was so heartbreaking when the Cougars just fell apart in overtime.  It was tough to watch and tough to see our friends just wilt.  I was heartily sorry for the loss - I even woke in the middle of the night, unable to sleep because I was thinking of Jimmer and also my friends.  Sigh.  What a great year.  I wonder if I'll always harbor a slight fondness for BYU basketball now.....no, probably not.  :)

A Bundle By Any Other Name

When our little Bundle arrived almost two years ago (!!!), her blog name just seemed obvious.  She was such a perfect little bundle!  As she has gotten older I've really wondered about finding a new name for her, but she has made it clear that Bundle is still perfect.  Over the past few months she has become very attached to her pacifier and her blanket.  Not one or the other, but both at the same time.  All throughout the day she'll suddenly state, "Binki!  Bankie!"  (It's a good thing the two are always demanded together because it's nearly impossible to differentiate the two words.)  She'll go in search of her beloved items - luckily she has multiples of each otherwise I'm sure I'd be scrambling all the time to located them, since she seems to randomly dump them as quickly as she demands them.  She'll then bring me, after firmly lodging her binki in her mouth, one of her blankets.  After handing it to me, she'll turn around and start reversing - I keep expecting to hear the BEEP BEEP BEEP of a truck as it backs up - knowing that I'll be there with the blanket outstretched so she can just back right into it.  I then wrap it around her and tuck it under her arms which she then folds in front of herself so she's all wrapped up.  It's adorable.  She walks around for a while, all bundled up, just like she's always liked it.

Oh yeah, she also loves this big puffy pink coat - she'll often refuse to take it off all day long.  So once wearing the coat and wrapped in the blanket she's so puffy I can barely pick her up. It's like holding a marshmallow.  A giant pink marshmallow.

She's been totally healthy this week, for the first time in what seems like months, and it turns out she's quite charming and adorable when she feels good!  Sorry to say that I'd almost forgotten how much fun she is.  Bundle has been talking up a storm - she repeats everything I say (which is sometimes alarming....) and seems to understand it too.  I love how she walks around the house and says, "Mom!  "Meere!" (Come here.)  And I'm also happy to report that her appetite has returned with a vengeance.  We may get her to gain a pound or two for the first time since she turned about 1.

Oh yeah, one more thing.  I do have to report on Bundle's love affair.  Besides calling for her binki/banki combo all day long, I also regularly get a call for "Buzz! Woody!  Jessie!"  That girl adores her Toy Story.  I try to not play it non stop, but I will confess to having used it from time to time to completely absorb her while I got something done.  Thankfully Stomper went through a similar love affair when he was two so we have an actual Buzz and Woody on hand to keep her company.  I see a Jessie entering our life in the near future.  I just can't decide if it will be on Easter or on her Birthday that it will get delivered.  I know Easter should really be less about the gifts, but I can't help getting excited to see her reaction to the arrival of a Jessie doll. I don't know if I can wait until June.

I'm just not entirely sure that Jessie will fit in the stroller!

What The....

....BYU?  I actually meant to take a picture of us last night just to document this momentously unheard-of occasion, but for some Freudian reason I forgot to bring the camera. We had been graciously invited to attend a Saint Patrick's Day feast by our good friends the Radants. And it just so happened that dinner was scheduled during BYU's game in the 1st round of the NCAA tournament. Very sneaky of them; the Radants are extremely loyal Cougars. What else could we do?  We watched it with them.  And....we even cheered for the Cougars.  Weird.  We couldn't really help it - I mean, Jimmer Fredette is really just a spectacle to behold.  And he seems like a perfectly nice, respectful young man. Okay, I'll confess. We're all Jimmer fans over here.  So yes, we were caught cheering for the bad guys.  Stomper picked up on this a few weeks ago and he got really confused. "Dad," he said, "I thought that BYU were the bad guys!"  "Well son," replied his father, "Sometimes it's okay to cheer for BYU...in basketball...."  Troy had to cut short Stomper's lecture on moral relativism before it went too far and had to placate him with one of those fabulous parental statements:  "You'll understand when you're older."  There, that should solve his issues, shouldn't it?