Presidential Tradition

I believe it only took one visit to St. George in the middle of February for us to realize that it would be absolutely necessary for us to go there every single year.  Somehow just knowing that a few days in the sunshine and clean air are ahead we are able to survive January and all its depressing smog, darkness, cold and total lack of Christmas.  I can't remember if it's been three or four years in a row now that we have made the trip - it seems to me that one year Peter and Co made the trip up here instead, which seems like a monumentally terrible idea. I think they must have learned their lesson because if I remember correctly that was an especially frozen and iced-over weekend.

This year as we mourned the loss of the holidays (I know they're a lot of work and kind of exhausting but I'm always so sad when they're over) we comforted ourselves by counting down the days to our annual trip south. It's always such a pleasure to drive those last 10 or so miles as the elevation drops precipitously and we can see an expanse of sky ahead.  When we arrive at the Romney's home our kids always immediately take off with their cousins and start playing.  Even Cap is excited to be there, despite the fact that he is the lone teenager, the lone big male cousin - he just heads to the back yard to flip around on the trampoline and look for lizards.

We so enjoyed being outside as much as we could on this trip, including a lovely walkish-hike in the hills - I don't think I've ever been on the same hike twice in St. George.  Sheri always knows some new place to take us and it's always delightful if occasionally slightly scary - see last year's trip to The Vortex.  I'm so impressed though that there's always a new place to explore.

We also took the kids to see the St. George tabernacle, which my great-great-great grandfather, Miles Romney, helped build. (I might be wrong on the number of greats.) He built twin staircases himself and when the prophet Brigham Young told him they were too high and would have to be rebuilt, Miles told him to take a hike (so to speak).  The tabernacle was built around the stairs and you'll notice that after you climb the stairs you have to go back down some more stairs to get to the second story because the Romney stairs are so tall.  That's right, Grandpa Romney, you tell him! My kids were slightly less impressed than I was about this story - but then again, I have a vague memory of seeing these stairs as a child myself, I think even with some of my Romney cousins, and not caring much either. I have hopes that my kids will care someday.

Despite it also being slightly on the chilly side in St. George (which equated to downright balmy for us) we spent some time in the River-Park as we like to call it - I didn't think the kids would want to get wet but by the end they were pretty soaked.

And of course a great deal of time was spent at the school yard around the corner where Cap did some serious lizard hunting, succeeding in capturing four lizards.  One of the lizards in return was pretty successful in capturing Cap, as it clamped its jaws on Cap's finger and really was not interested in letting go. It was funny for a while.  Until it was painful, then it was less funny.

We so appreciate the chance to get away from gloomy SLC every February.  We're a little sad - uncle Peter has been searching for a job for a few months and it's very possible that they might have to leave St. George.  We're hopeful that if this happens we can still find a way to go there together and still get into that February sun.

My girls getting sung to in Primary on Sunday - Hello HELLO!

Iva had a little potty issue at church so I brought her home...bare bum and all

What's awesome is how clearly we are still SLC people - because by about mid-April it's way way too hot to go visit again until about October!!

Cousins ForEVER!!

My Mom's Journey

I think it was all the way last summer, after my family returned from our surprisingly successful trip to San Diego, that we began thinking more earnestly about when it would be time to move my mother into a full-time Alzheimer's care facility.  In July, we thought we might do it that very summer, and immediately began to tour some suggested homes.  My sister and dad and I were the first ones to see the first home, and setting foot inside brought reality into clear focus with a rather painful bump.  Even though we were able to see my dad's exhaustion and frustration in caring for mom, and the thought of a care center seemed inviting and comforting, actually seeing real live people living in a place that was not their own home was a tear-jerking shock. The reality of what we were doing was an unexpected feeling.  Despite that, we kids all felt really great about a couple of the places, and really terrible about several more.  We knew dad would need some time to truly be able to make that decision, and it was a hard few months as we had many many conversations, both all together and in small groups, about our hopes and expectations.

Finally just after Christmas dad was ready to look again at moving mom into a home.  We had found one we really like - amazingly in Taylorsville, which is a pretty different part of the city from where Dad or Margaret or I live.  When we first were on our way to tour it in the fall we all thought it was nuts to pick a place so far away until we got there, whereupon we immediately decided it was the best match for us. When, after Christmas, we called to check on availability of rooms, it just so happened that there were two open. This really tested dad's determination.  I think he had figured on a waiting time of at least a couple of months, and he struggled with feelings of guilt about moving mom.  The kids all really felt great about this though, as we care for our dad's health just as much as we care about our mom's.  It was time.

The process of getting mom moved into the space were rather tricky behind the scenes as the kids tried to support dad in picking out what to bring with mom, how to decorate her room and what furniture to use. There were some mix ups and Peter and I ended up furniture shopping on the very day mom was supposed to move in which was very hectic and my blood pressure still elevates a bit when I think of the stress of that morning. Despite the clamoring to get ready, everything with mom's move itself went extremely well.

I'll mention first one of the most special and sacred moments of my life, which occurred between my father and my brother and myself the afternoon before mom moved in. We were gathered in mom's room, the three of us, and we had decorated it and fixed it up as well as we could. We still all felt rather empty though, and sad deep inside. I felt inspired to mention that we should kneel in prayer in that room, and ask for the room to be dedicated for the special care and keeping of my mom. A very tender and heartfelt prayer was uttered, and I can only say that the feeling in that room changed.  It was sunnier, and we all felt calm and comforted. I'll never forget that moment.

The next day, after dad and Peter and I had scurried around and finally gotten the place put together properly, we headed out.  My sister Margaret was the designated drop-off person, because mom is so calm in her presence and isn't ever ruffled or suspicious. We all felt nervous that mom would be aware that she was being left in a new location but Margaret's skills with mom are very easy and natural.  My skills have definitely improved over the past couple of years but Margaret is really talented.

We have all been so grateful and relieved to see that mom really only experiences the world a minute at a time - she has never really recognized that she has been moved out of her own home and into a new one.  She is getting used to some routines and familiar faces at her new home, but she doesn't see that she hasn't been home in almost two months.  She seems delighted every time she goes into her room - she really loves it there.  She of course has her moments of paranoia and unsettled feelings, but as I have gone to visit her, those moments come and go in a flash.

Dad of course is lonely, but he was lonely for his old Kathryn anyway, and now he's no longer exhausted by her constant care and challenging nights. He sees mom every day, though I hope soon he takes a chance to go on a trip with friends. I see mom almost every week.  The nice thing is that she's just so happy to see me whenever she does see me - she never knows how long it's been since she's seen me. It's just happy. It's starting to feel more like she's happy to see a friendly face smiling at her as I approach - I'm less and less sure she recognizes me.  This could be partly due to the fact that my last few visits have been on very busy days with lots of people there, and this overwhelms her, but I haven't heard her say my name in a few weeks.  That doesn't bother me too much, as I know that that is part of the process.  It's just interesting to think that I will not ever know if, when she does recognize me, it will be the last time.

I'm so grateful we found this lovely facility and that mom is happy there.  I'm so grateful that dad has settled into his new routine and seems much more peaceful and happy, albeit lonely.  But it's so much better than frustrated and exhausted.  I'm proud of him.

This is the sign that was posted on the day of mom's arrival

Here's part of mom's cute little room

Me bringing mom a tasty treat from In-n-Out - chocolate shake!!

Sassy Gal

Turns out we're going to be keeping a record of our family's haircut history here.  And you can hardly blame us - get ready for one darling hair cut coming up. Bitt has had the goal for months now to re-grow her hair down to her waist in order to have many inches to donate to Locks of Love. However, when her little sister got such a cute hair-chop and frankly got plenty of compliments and attention....Bitty thought to reconsider her time line.  And she knew exactly what she wanted.  She kept trying to describe to me what cut she wanted.  "Pretty short, mom." "What, like to your shoulders?" "No, mom, shorter.  Shorter. No, like REALLY short."  And short she went.  It looks so cute and I will tell you, I do not miss making my daughter cry every time it's time to brush her hair. Once again, MANY kudos go to my dear friend Jeannie who is a fantastic hairstylist.

Oh yeah, and Cap got a slick trim too.  Not quite as dramatic, but still an awfully good looker.

The Rise and Fall of Skippidy

Maybe it's not good to need to dedicate another entire post to just one of my children but....Skippidy has had a lot of really memorable moments over the past month and I am just going to go ahead and do it.

Let's see...what are the things I want to remember?  Lets start with something positive.  Skippidy is starting to figure out how to text.  I know this really isn't a very big deal, but her first text ever to me was so cute that I had to screen grab it and save it forever:

Yes, I know - the spell check did a number on her spelling but I thought it was adorable.  And then on a drive the other day she got ahold of my phone and left me this very sweet little note.  I'm going to have it framed: 

Keeping it forever!  And I'm going to need it because my next story is also about her leaving notes for people but is slightly less charming.  The other morning Skippidy and Bitty got into a fight and got pretty nasty with each other.  They both got in trouble and I decided that as part of their penance they had to do something nice for each other.  Bitty took a few minutes to settle herself down before finding a little treat and bringing it to Skippidy and saying something nice to her.  Skippidy, however, was much more stubborn and stayed pouting in her bed for a very long time.  I finally suggested that she write a note to her sister to say she was sorry and she agreed, so I brought her a notecard.  Skippidy carefully wrote her note and delivered it to Bitty before heading off to recover and play.  Remind me next time to read her notes of apology before offering her forgiveness.  It wasn't until the next day that I came across the note and here's what she had to say:

In case you didn't get that, it says "I said sorry like 100,00 times and you didn't listen! from Emma. P.S. Did you listen?"

Very apologetic I'm sure.  Little stinker.

Luckily our little gal has many more adorable moments than stinky ones.  One of the best ever was a day early this month when her class celebrated their 100th day of school.  In her class, her teacher has the kids dress up like they are 100 years old.  Skippidy took right to it and absolutely threw herself into her aged character.  It was HILARIOUS.  She instantly started hobbling around with her little umbrella/cane, glasses perched on the end of her nose, and for some reason speaking in a British accent.  Oh my heart, it was so funny.

Her wrinkles were done by her big sister and a washable marker.  It was actually quite impressive!  

And now a confession.  Almost every night, little Skippidy crawls up into my lap as we're having family story time.  She curls up like a baby and falls asleep.  And I do nothing to stop her, I just rock her like she's still one year old.  I can't help it!  At some point I know she'll stop, and until that day, I'll let her get rocked to sleep as much as she wants.

Going on Dates

We are having some warm weather now that we've hit the end of February, and although I'm sure we'll get more cold and storms, looking back on the wintry month of January, it sure feels like we've accomplished something just by making it through. Troy and I have been really making a conscious effort to be more active and actually leave our house with the kids, taking them on little outings and dates.  We've had some fun times over the past few weeks.

Here are a couple of our favorite excursions:

One fun evening was when Troy took the girls out to go spend their Christmas money from Grandma.  Skippidy couldn't make up her mind but Bitty only needed one glance at the BB8 mug sitting on the Disney store shelf before her heart was won.  We have since discovered that BB8 holds a very large amount of liquid.  It's really more of a family mug.  Bitty has found that a pint and a half of hot chocolate really is a bit too much at any one time.

Another really fun outing was the night that I ended up driving some girls to a birthday party in Draper and I brought Skippidy with me. I needed to find a way to kill two hours that wasn't staying with her at Boondocks because my brain would have exploded.  I'm so sorry if this comment is offensive to anyone but those indoor arcade game pizza party places test my will to go on living.  So. Loud.  Anyway, I decided that Skippidy and I needed to check out Scheels - the giant sporting good store in the south of the valley.  Not that we needed any sporting goods, it's just that that place pretty much has all the attractions of a mini amusement park.  A ferris wheel, a shooting gallery, a bowling alley (although the place is so huge I couldn't actually find it), a little restaurant, treats everywhere.  We had so much fun.

Skippidy finally spent her grandma money by picking out some Shopkins toys and this wretched little game called "Beanboozled."  We had heard it was a fun and daring game played by flicking a spinner and eating a jelly bean of the color it lands on, each color of jelly bean having the possibility of being one of two flavors.  One would be a normal flavor like pear and one nasty flavor like booger.  We thought it sounded silly.  The next day when we gathered around our new jellybean game with excitement.  We hit the spinner and each popped a jellybean in our mouth.  And then the game wasn't fun anymore.  My first bad flavor was moldy cheese and the only good thing I can say about this game is that the makers really went above and beyond to make some seriously nasty flavors.  This is not a fun game.  Do not play it if you ever come across it.

This is the gang of girls at the birthday party who were bravely enduring (aka LOVING) Boondocks

Another sunny but cold Saturday afternoon Troy and I really wanted to see ourselves as a happy active family who goes on outings together.  We were kind of thwarted as we tried to head out, finding a few destinations on our idea list to be closed.  We ended up bowling.  Skippidy beat me.  I am not a good bowler.  Of course, she had the bumpers up, but still.  We munched on french fries and fried mozzarella (a revelation of a snack to our kids).  The only sad part was that we didn't discover until the shoes were rented that our darling daughter Bitty really hates bowling and refused to participate.  She bravely endured the sidelines while the rest of us did our best to knock the pins down.

I have a feeling that some day she is going to really hate me for posting this picture.

So yes, we did our best to get out and about a time or two in the winter months.  Now the sun is shining and the kids are all off with friends and don't seem to need us to provide activity and entertainment quite as much.  I'm glad we put in a little extra effort during those chilly days!

Little Bro Turns 40

So my younger brother Adam turned 40 over the weekend.  Which is weird since I'm still in my late 20's....just kidding.  I don't really want to be in my late 20's.  I  like being in my 40's.  Anyhow, for his birthday Whitley asked his friends and family to write him a note or a memory and I enjoyed writing my memory so much that I thought I'd log it here....as well as his awesome senior year picture that makes him look like a Kirk Cameron-esque teen of the 90's.  If you don't know who Kirk Cameron is, well, I guess you missed out on Growing Pains.  That's a tv show.  That you had to watch on your tv on the night and time it was on or you missed it.  Which means it was on tv a really long time ago.  Okay, enough tangents...here's my story:

It was a summer night, deep in the middle of the 1980’s.  The greater Romney family was gathered on the porch of a Park City condominium enjoying the enticing combination of breezy evening air and a barbecue picnic.  I, however, was sitting huddled in the corner carefully watching my younger brother who was currently sporting a crooked grin and a dangerous twinkle in his eye.  I was watching for signs of squealing.  I had made the terrible mistake earlier in the day of revealing to my brother the name of the boy I had a crush on.  In my 12 year old mind, I could only classify my feelings as true love. After all, it was Jace Mihalopolous.  He may have been a little younger than me, but he had dark curly hair, olive skin and big brown eyes.  My heart was lost.  Lost so completely that I could not contain within my own lovesick head his name or the fact that he was indeed the boy that I LIKED.  I found myself furtively sharing my secret with Adam, only recognizing my mistake after the words had left my lips.  I was horrified.  How could I have so willingly handed over my secret right to him, just handing him ammo on a silver platter?  And I could see it on his face that he was just waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The cousins were gathered. The conversation had come to a lull.  Adam perched casually on the steps leading to the lawn, leaning against the railing, and watching carefully.  I saw it coming.  Just at the perfect moment he made his announcement.  “Guess who Rachel likes, you guys?”  Silence. All heads turned his way.  And he said it.  He TOLD.  Instantly a flame of fury ignited within me.  I hated him.  I was going to kill him.  Before I could even think I launched myself off of my chair and barreled into his chest, throwing him off the porch and into the grass.  In my head I pictured all the epic movie fights I had ever seen, and I began pummeling him up an down his torso with my balled-up fists, feeling satisfying thuds as I punched.  Finally I was getting the upper hand in this fraught sibling-hood. After all the punches I could deliver, I rolled away, waiting to hear his tears begin.  To see him at least curl into a ball and cradle his aching sides.  Instead, to my absolute horror, I looked to see Adam laughing his head off.  My hardest punches had been little more than gentle tickling to my brother.  There was nothing left to do but give up all hope of ever gaining the upper hand over this pre-teen monster.  I slumped back to the house, winding between the chairs of cousins and aunts and uncles who, it turned out, were not at all interested in my brother’s betrayal. They just went on chatting and munching away.  I could only retreat up to my room to contemplate my lameness and comfort myself with thoughts of the long eyelashes of Jace Mihalopolous. I also began forming possible revenge methods on my brother that needed no public display of strength. Who knew that a short 30 years later I would look back to find that this same brother had come to be one of my favorite humans on the earth, one whom I respect and trust and strive to be more like.  Will wonders never cease. Happy Birthday Adam!

The Teeth (or lack thereof) of Skippidy

Oh this little girl of mine.  Skippidy began losing her teeth at the end of her kindergarten year.  Just those bottom two.  It wasn't long after that that she lost her two front teeth, in rather rapid succession I believe, over the summer.  Eventually her bottom two permanent teeth grew in, but not her two front teeth. We waited. And waited. Then around December she lost the two teeth on either side of her upper two front teeth.  And still we waited for those two front teeth. Christmas came, and boy oh boy did poor Skippidy start to hear a lot about that song All I Want for Christmas is My Two.....you get the idea.  Although it was often altered to her FOUR front teeth.  It's been slightly comical to watch her attempt to eat.  She just has to gnaw on things from the side.  The gap in front has been so very very large I almost just started calling her gummy.  It's been pretty funny.

I'll admit that at her last dentist appointment I had them x-ray her front gums to make sure she even had those front teeth.  I mean, seven months is a long time, right?  They assured me that those two front teeth were actually there....and then told me to prepare myself.  I was told that little Skippidy's two front teeth might be rather on the large size, and just hadn't been able to descend because they were being blocked by the next two teeth.  Well, those next two teeth came out and now we're watching and waiting.

As of today, one of her front teeth has finally broken through the surface.  We are cheering it along in hopes that her giant new teeth will help her be able to eat apples again, and maybe her new lithp will dithappear one of these days as well.

And in other Skippidy news...someone wanted a new hair do.  She begged me to call Jeannie and set up an appointment - Jeannie was able to come over that very same day and just do the deed in our kitchen.  Skippidy told Jeannie exactly what she wanted, which was to have very short hair in back that pointed forward to her chin like a slide.  Jeannie did a darling job, which Skippidy agreed with since she declared more than once, "I am ADORABLE!!" Well, she's not wrong.  She's adorable.