It's Time

The time has come. I'm changing my blog. I'll now be posting at Our Delightful Song. I need a new space and a new outlook. I'll still be posting family news, projects I'm working on, and all the randomness that floats through my head. Join me, won't you?

Another Red Letter Day

I have another post up at the Power of Moms. Check it out! I'm so excited!

This Is Me: Forgiveness

Probably the hardest thing I have ever done in my entire life is forgive the Z-man and forgive myself for what happened at the beginning of our marriage. It was not smooth sailing. We both came into the relationship with issues, hot-buttons, and high expectations. Unfortunately, they all happened to line up quite nicely, and within a few months, we were having serious difficulties.

After a few months with a not-so-effective therapist, I decided to leave him. It was the hardest and most heart-wrenching decision of my life. But we were both hurting each other non-stop, and it couldn't go on. Through the next 2-3 years, we both worked very hard to re-establish our relationship, fix our own issues, and gain the skills and tools we needed to make our marriage a good one. And I think we succeeded beyond my wildest dreams.


How could I not love this man, after all.

But one of the hardest parts of this whole journey was forgiving him for things he had done and said to hurt me. Sometimes he meant to (he was hurting too after all), but most often he had no idea how hurt I was. I was not good at telling him in a way he could understand.

It took a lot of prayer, a lot of tears, a lot of talking, and a lot of time before I was able to let go of everything. But oh, so worth it.


He is my world, my everything, my best friend, my lover, my heart and soul.

I also had a lot to forgive myself for. Namely, not being the perfect wife I always hoped to be. For being human, making mistakes, and not knowing all the answers right away.


I certainly wasn't perfect, and I needed to change my behavior in a lot of ways. We're still working on a lot. Who isn't, after all.

There are also times when something from that time comes back to haunt me. I will remember something the Z-man said or did, and it starts to hurt all over again. But I find that every time I let it go, it's easier than the time before. Because I can't erase those years from my memory (nor would I really want to), I will always have hard memories pop up from time to time. And I'm still not perfect. Sometimes I stew over them for a day or two.

But then I look at these pictures, I see something he as done for me, I see our beautiful children, I remember the countless times he has proven his love for me, and I can let it go. I don't have to hold onto the bad, and I can still cherish the good.

Without him by my side, I wouldn't be half the woman I am today. Nor would I stand a chance of someday being the woman I want to be. I can't wait to see how high we can help each other climb.

Projects: How Do They Do It?

I have to confess--I was hoping to post last night about a finished project or an organizing effort I had made this last week. But the sad truth is that I didn't finish much. Not much that stayed finished, anyway. I usually try to do something, no matter how small, that stays done. That way, I can point to it the next day and say, "I did that." But between finally recovering from lots of illness (the whole family), and trying to stay on top of keeping the house reasonable, I haven't spared the time to work on any projects.

There are a lot of blogs/websites that I love to visit where people post pictures nearly every day of things they've done or are working on. And I have to wonder, HOW!?!? How in the world do they find time to do so much and not drop dead of exhaustion?

I have been spending a lot of time planning out things to come: Halloween costumes, Christmas gifts, a whole house makeover for next year. I guess that has been my project this week. Unfortunately, that doesn't lend itself very well to pictures. And you really, REALLY don't want to see any pictures of my house yet. Trust me on this one, it looks awful tonight.

Maybe next week I'll have more progress to report. If nothing else, maybe my dishes will be done BEFORE I pass out for the night. I can always hope. . .

Family Update, Again

The past week or two has been really busy. Which, of course, means that I'm behind on gathering and loading pictures. So, pictures will be coming later.

Lately we've been:

• Celebrating Munchkin's birthday with pizza, frozen yogurt, a 3D movie for the whole family, and dinner at Grandma and Grandpa's house. Because of schedules and sickness, the celebrations were strung out over nearly a week. Lucky Munchkin.


• Stake Volleyball has started, and I am reminded yet again how much I hate the Z-man's schedule. Finding a babysitter every single time I want to do something on a weeknight really stinks.


• Zippy is devouring every single book he can get his hands on. I just bought 5 more for him and I think there might be 1 he hasn't finished in the past 3 days. Yeah!!!


• Little Man now tells me when his diaper is messy. Kinda gross, but other mothers will understand why that's exciting. Potty training and an end to diapers is on the horizon.


• The Z-man is working a mandatory 6-day work week until further notice. Gah. As if we didn't struggle to spend time together already. Hopefully, it will only last a few weeks. Work hard and catch up on the trucks guys!!!!


• I sang with the choir at the Relief Society General Broadcast. It was AMAZING!! I'm glad to have my Sunday evenings back, but I miss singing. I've already threatened to drop in on my sister's choirs when she's back to teaching school. "Don't mind me. . .I'm just going to join your sopranos for a few minutes."


• General Conference (the few parts I actually heard) was wonderful. I can't wait for the November Ensign to arrive so I can actually take in everything they said.


• I've been playing way too much on Pinterest. I keep promising the Z-man this will be the end of my obsession with magazines and tear files. I think he's a little excited about that.


• Zippy and the Z-man survived a BAD case of stomach flu. The rest of us escaped relatively unscathed. Thank goodness. Never want to do that again. It's rare for the Z-man to be that sick, and NO ONE enjoys it.

I'm sure there's more but I don't remember it right now. Mommy brain, you know. Plus, posts without pictures aren't nearly so exciting. Hopefully, pictures to come soon.

HUGE Announcement

Today marks a first step in a life-long dream of mine. A website I love and respect has published at article by ME!!!

Check it out at The Power of Moms

I am seriously so excited and overwhelmed that I don't know what else to say! Read it, comment if you want, and tell everyone!!

September Catch-Up

We've been a busy family for the past month or so. I'm finally taking a few moments to catch up.

Zippy started 2nd grade. He looks much taller to me against our door this year. So far, he's loving it! I really hope that continues for a long time. I could do without some of the drama we had last year.

I always let them take a silly picture too. It makes us both laugh. Zippy has also advanced to a green belt in TaeKwonDo. We're so proud of him. He gets to start sparring in class now, and it's very exciting.

Munchkin started Preschool this month. She was so excited I thought she might burst before it was time to go. Every day she asks if it's a preschool day just as soon as she wakes up.

Even Munchkin's silly picture is beautiful to me. She has also started a ballet/tap class for the Fall. She loves the twirling best of all. But the noise of the tap shoes cannot be undervalued.

The Z-Man has been busy too. He's been fixing lots of cars--and even our neighbor's Harley. We couldn't pass up the opportunity for a fun photo before he returned it. Maybe someday I'll have one of my own.

The Z-Man also brightens my days considerably. The morning after a very hard day, I woke up to find this beautiful bouquet in my kitchen. Isn't he sweet? Even coming home in the middle of the night, he found somewhere to buy flowers to make me happy.

I've been busy too. Not just helping everyone else with their stuff, either. I finally got around to putting in a big half-barrel planter in front of the house and filling it with Autumn color. I've done lots of planning, cleaning, gardening, and, most exciting of all, writing.

It's been a very busy month for us. And we're loving it.

This is going to be another of my not-so-perfect posts.

I was hoping to get it in yesterday, but I was too exhausted by the time the kids were asleep. That happens way too often for my liking.

The past few weeks for our family have been hectic to say the least. The following list of events probably doesn't even cover half of what we've been up to. In no particular order:

• Munchkin broke her collar-bone. Or, rather, Zippy broke it for her when he sat on her.


• Zippy started 2nd grade--yeah for school!!!


• Little Man now calls me Daddy and uses "car" for just about everything else.


• Grandma K came to visit.


• The dishwasher broke--and it probably won't be fixed for quite a while.


• Our van nearly died and needed some new gaskets and spark plugs and wires.


• I began rehearsals for a special Relief Society choir (more to come on that later).


• We braved the crowds for a $2 Tuesday at Thanksgiving Point Farm Country. Never Again.


• Z-Man is now ASE Master Certified in Medium/Heavy Duty Trucks. YEAH!!!


• The kids and I visited a fun splash park and went swimming with Grandma T.


• And just this morning, Munchkin stuck a small round bead in her ear! Back to the Instacare!

We've been busy. I'm ready for the crises to pass and the money to stop flowing out of our accounts. Nothing else can break--children included.

And before you ask, yes I do have pictures of many of these events. They'll come later when I'm not 3 hours behind schedule due to another trip to see a doctor.

This is Me--O Remember, Remember

Have I seen the hand of God in my life today?

Thinking back upon my day has made me wonder. It hasn't been a perfect day by any stretch of the imagination. Roads were closed, appointments had to be rescheduled, waits were longer than expected, projects were bigger than I thought, demands were higher and energy was too low to meet them all. But in spite of that, there were some glaring reminders that Heavenly Father loves me. I just had to think back long enough to see them.

I was blessed with a friend who stopped by unexpectedly. Katy made a trip to WalMart a joy instead of a chore. She raised my spirits when they desperately needed it.

Lisa called and reminded me that I am strong for asking for help--not weak like I feel most days. She shared my joy in the things that are going well, and understood those that aren't what I want them to be. She reminded me that my life is full of blessings--and it's OK if those blessings are hard to deal with sometimes.

I met with a talented and compassionate health professional today that listened, understood, and offered help with no trace of pity or judgment. Instead, she offered hope, cheer, and the promise of continued help.

My difficult day has been full of those who love me--sent to help me by a Father who loves me more than I can imagine.

This is a day to remember.

Projects and Goals: Reevaluation Needed

I was hoping to post some updates about projects I've finished lately, or progress I've made on my goals for the year. But as I look around today, I can't see anything to talk about. The house is a mess, as usual, unfinished projects are piled on every available shelf in my bedroom, and I've made no appreciable progress on any goals in quite some time.

So instead of an update, I'm giving myself a little kick in the pants. I have one week to get Zippy ready for school, and only a couple more than that to get Munchkin ready for both preschool and ballet. I need to reevaluate and recommit to my goals. I have found and personalized a plan to take me and my family through the Fall and clear into the Holidays with much more organization and planning than we have ever had. I'm excited for new beginnings and the renewed energy I'm praying will come with them.

My goals for this week are to finish at least one project, get Zippy ready for school, reevaluate my goals and set small steps for each of them, and to blog. Seriously, I need to blog. In my perfect world, I would post here at least every weekday. I guess we'll see how I do this week. Oh, and I have a lot of memorizing to do. I need to have 4 hymns memorized by Sunday for a Relief Society choir I will be part of. Am I ready, of course not. I have almost 2 of them ready. Lots of work for the days ahead--yipee.

Wish me luck.

Computer Drama

I was going to be really good tonight and update with pictures and stories about what we've done so far in July as a family. But our desktop computer has decided no to turn on. Maybe ever again. After at least a week of working on it, Z-man took it to someone to get looked at by an expert. We're hopeful we can replace a part instead of needing to replace the whole dang thing.

And, of course, all my pictures are on there. We should be able to recover them no problem even if the computer is dead, but I don't have them right now.

I could still tell all the stories, but, eh. I don't really feel motivated without the pictures.

Suffice it to say that we've been having fun, trying to survive the heat, and there will be stories and pictures coming soon . . . I hope.

I Have A Question

I'm just wondering. . . .

If there's a chance, no matter how remote, that my face might appear on TV this fall, does that justify spending money on a new haircut? It's been nearly a year since I had a decent one, and I'm getting desperate. And the thought of hundreds of thousands of people seeing me--however briefly or however far in the background--with a bad haircut seems awful.

Can I do away with the guilt of paying for a really good haircut in preparation for this?

Vacation to Bear Lake

Last week we took a family vacation. It was the first time we went just us and the kiddos. Not with my family nor with Z-man's. We went north to Bear Lake and it was FUN!!!

We camped at the KOA in Garden City. Attached to their office was the only half decent market we could find for MILES around. It was 2 rooms worth of shelves of food, but everything else was just a glorified gas station. Good thing we hadn't forgotten much!



We were excited to finally have a tent that can fit us all comfortably. It'll get tight when the kids are bigger, but it's perfect for now. Little Man thought running around inside the tent was the greatest thing ever!



I was nervous about camping with such a little guy, but he was wonderful!!! He's a great traveler, and his naturally happy personality was a life saver. He was curious about everything, and happy with whatever entertainment we came up with.

On our second day up there, we went to Minnetonka Caves just over the Idaho border. It was beautiful!


During the tour, Zippy befriended a couple of retired gentlemen in the group with us--one of whom shares his first name. He talked their ears off to the delight of all of them. Zippy also managed to get them to take over watching him for us. Z-man and I had our hands full with Munchkin and Little Man, so Zippy's new friends kept an eye on him, helped him on the slippery stairs, answered his questions, and kept up with him when he wanted to go faster than Mommy could. They just might be my new favorite people in the world. Unfortunately, the kids were in such a hurry when we were done that I didn't get to thank them properly. Oh well, it looked like they were having fun too.

Of course, we spent time at the beach too. The water is so high this year that the only beach we could find was at the very north end of the lake. So, it was back into Idaho. It was worth it, though. The north beach has very, very soft sand, warmer water (because the water is so shallow for such a long distance), and plenty of room.


Do I have cute boys or what?
Munchkin would have stayed there all day if she could have. What fun!!!

This whole trip was Z-man's idea. I'm so lucky to have such a handsome husband that loves spending time with me and the kids!!! We relaxed, rode bikes, ate raspberry shakes, walked, talked, played miniature golf, laughed at the kids, and just reveled in being together.

It was a fantastic vacation. I hope we can make it a tradition. The big family events are fun, but there's something special about being just our little family.

Finding Beauty in My Scars

I read a wonderful essay tonight about finding strength in the scars life has left you. I’ve heard the thought before, but tonight it actually touched my heart. I began to cry while reading it—partially from shame at how I’ve thought about and treated my own body, and partially from relief that there is a different way to think.

As I stepped out of the shower tonight, with the house quiet in the aftermath of bedtime and the subsequent sneaking-out-of-bed rituals, I stood still and looked in the mirror. It’s something I avoid doing unless there’s a reason. I check my breasts monthly in the mirror; I use the mirror to help me remove unwanted hair, cover blemishes, check outfits and hairdos. But rarely do I simply stand naked in front of my mirror and look. It’s not usually a pleasant experience for me. Most women I’ve ever met would probably agree with me. We think we know quite well what we look like, thank you very much. We much prefer the view with the help of clothing and accessories.

But I discovered I was quite wrong about many things. For years, I’ve been ashamed of my scars. Mostly they’re stretch marks. They cover the sides of my breasts, my hips, the tops of my thighs, and most of my abdomen. Most are from pregnancy, but not all. The ones on my breasts and hips started in puberty. That delirious/horrific/beautiful transformation from girl to woman. At the time, I didn’t think much of them. They were tiny and always covered by even the swimsuits I wore.

Years later, when Z-man and I married, the birth-control pills I used caused some changes that resulted in a few more stretch marks. Still nothing I thought much about. Occasionally I’d notice them and grimace a little. But life went on quite well despite them.

During the first rocky years of our marriage, I gained quite a bit of weight, and some more stretch marks. These bothered me more, but since they faded and were hidden when I lost the weight, I was able to shove the thought of them aside as our relationship improved and my joy and contentment increased.

But the long, ragged, and obvious stretch marks, along with other scars, stretching, and changes that came with each pregnancy have been much harder to set aside or come to terms with.

Tonight I got much closer. I stood naked and really looked at my body and the scars it carries. And I listened to the sweet silence of happy children sleeping, and knew the scars were worth it. The ones from Zippy are nearly faded, the ones from Munchkin are mostly white, and the ones from Little Man—the ones that reach up to my ribs and down my legs—are still pink more than a year and a half after he was born. Each stage tells a story, and I can look at them and tell you with some accuracy what was going on and how I felt when they spread to each point.

And for the first time in years I can feel at peace with my body and what I have gained from it.

My hands that look much like my mother’s—even down to veins beginning to show in the same places—link me to her in a tangible, ever-present way that I am grateful for.

My height and slightly unique proportions of leg to torso reflect the strength and power of my father.

The extra weight, the stretched skin, the sagging and drooping and spreading of various parts and places testify that I have lived; I have loved and been loved; I have borne children, held and fed and nurtured them; I have fallen to my knees diving for balls and pleading to my Heavenly Father.

At this moment, on this night, I can truly say, were the chance offered to me, I wouldn’t trade my body for anyone else’s. I will certainly try to become and stay healthy. I will probably lose and gain weight many more times before I am done. I will hide many of the scars, lift the sags, and keep my body private as it should be. But I will also attempt to capture this feeling of peace, of contentment, of acceptance as I move forward through all those things. And I will catalog each new scar or change as proof that I accomplished what I was meant to. That I experienced joy and pain and sorrow and beauty—and lived through it all.

Powerless

School is out!! Fewer routines, no more crazy Wednesday afternoons, no homework or permission slips, no lunches to make or feel guilty about not making. And oh yeah--and extra kid to entertain all day long every day. Hmmm.

My goal this summer is to use the TV and computer to entertain the kids as LITTLE as possible. Which means that I have to have a plan. A good plan. A plan full of fun things to do that will take more than 30 seconds to complete. A plan that the kids will want to participate in and that can entertain a wide range of ages and attention spans. (And don't even try to guess who has the longest attention span. We're probably both wrong.) Does this sound daunting to anyone else but me?

So, I'm trying to come up with a list of things that we can do together that don't require power (i.e. electricity). Hopefully that will keep us away from screens of all kinds for the majority of our days. I'll list a few here, but if anyone has any more to add, I could really use some ideas.

1. Reading (during the daytime we don't have to use lights to do this)

2. Hook up the hose--sprinkler not necessarily required

3. Begin a pen-pal relationship between the kids and their cousins

4. Visit the playground 1/2 block from our front door

5. Bike rides

6. Gardening--harvest everything I've planted so it doesn't go to waste this year

7. Playdough (it takes electricity to make, but we're not counting that--just because)

8. Mess around with craft supplies--see what we can come up with

9. Puzzles

10. Make our own musical instruments

11. Write with pen/pencil and paper--there's still something magic about this to me

12. Feed the ducks that have taken up residence in the canal

Obviously, this list won't get me through the whole summer. But it's a start. Here's to a mostly powerless few months--and hopefully some sanity left at the end of it.

Busy, Busy

Last Saturday, Zippy had another tae kwon do test. He did GREAT!! He focused well, answered his questions quickly, and did great on his form. I'm so terribly proud of him!

That same day, Mom took Zippy, Munchkin, and me to see Seussical! We've been listening to the songs for years, and the kids were out of their minds excited to see the show. It was wonderful!! I couldn't believe how well they behaved, but I shouldn't have been surprised. The show was so wonderfully done, they couldn't take their eyes off the stage. Munchkin is still singing the songs and talking about the Cat in the Hat. Zippy has been bragging to everyone he can get to listen to him all week long. Thanks Grandma!!!

Monday I registered Munchkin for ballet in the fall. She has been begging for it for months, and I just couldn't put it off any longer. I'm nearly as excited as she is. I can't wait to see her dance--she's gonna love it! She asked, very politely, if she could go look in the dance room, and could barely contain herself when the studio owner said yes. She slipped off her shoes and tiptoed into the dark studio. She did a couple experimental twirls and admired herself in the mirrors. Oh my, she's going to just die when it's time for classes to start. As we were leaving, she asked if I would buy her the dance shoes and clothes that she needed for her birthday. That just about sent me off the edge. My preschooler is so excited to dance that she's willing to give up birthday presents to get what she needs to do it. Is this my daughter or what?

All of this certainly keeps us busy as bees. And right now, I'm loving it.

Hiding Places

Where do you go when you want to get away from the pressures of life, family, work, etc?

In the past, it’s been an actual, physical place for me.

In high school, my favorite place to hide was a specific tree in a local park. It was relatively easy to climb, and had magnificent views of sky and mountains. If I kept my eyes focused up, I could easily imagine I was alone in the world. No worries, no demands, no expectations. With the rough bark of the tree linking me to the ground below, I felt as if I could stretch up and touch the sky.

At home, I also did a lot of hiding in my room. I hid so much that my younger brother once tried to invent a system to talk to me while I was down there. He drew wonderful pictures of a very loud intercom system so that the rest of the family could get my attention no matter how deep in a book my nose was lodged.

During the first part of my marriage to the Z-man, there was a bench hidden in some trees on the edge of a park on BYU campus that I claimed as my own. It was a popular park during the day, but this particular bench was away from the most popular areas. Partially hidden by trees, yet near enough to open spaces and walkways that the seclusion was not dangerous. The exact location of this bench is one that I’ve never revealed. Not even when I was using it nearly daily. It was vital to me that I have a place where no one could track me down. A place where I was not wife, or daughter, or sister, or student, or employee. I was simply me. I could be alone—completely alone. I cherished the moments I was able to steal on that bench. It was dirty, sometimes cold. There was no back on the bench, and sometimes I sat there until my back ached and my legs fell asleep. But it was mine in a very real way. Whenever pressure would mount or my emotions would rise, I would feel myself pulled to my hiding place.

For the years I was working full-time, I used my bathroom as a reprieve nearly every Sunday night. I would turn on music loud enough to not hear Z-man knocking about in the apartment, turn off the lights, and soak in a hot bath until my skin wrinkled. I could shove aside the worries of the week past and the week to come, and let my mind flow with the music.

I have to admit that since having children, my hiding places have disappeared. It is rare indeed that I am ever alone. Even with Z-man’s new schedule, when I am seemingly alone, I am still in charge. Should someone need me, I have to be there and available. I can’t block out the world, or my worries, or the pressures that come with it. Sometimes, if the stars align just right, I can get close to that when I can run without the kids. But even then, I still have the dog, and must be aware of the world around me and the time that is passing. My only true escape right now exists in those few precious moments before I fall asleep. In those moments when my body and mind are shutting down for the night, the kids are usually asleep, the house is as clean as it is going to get, and no one is currently expecting action from me. During those moments, I can be whoever, wherever I want to be. I can drift where my mind would take me, or I can direct my thoughts toward a dream or longing that has been simmering behind reality. Some days, I find myself longing for bedtime just to have those moments to refresh my soul. Amidst wiping faces, sweeping floors, changing diapers, shuttling carpool, refereeing fights, and appeasing large personalities, I have to remind myself that those moments will come.

Some days I still consider locking myself in the bathroom. But I have to admit it’s much less effective with little fingers poking under the door and larger ones rattling the doorknob.

So I’d love to hear from all of you. Where do you hide—how do you revive your heart and soul and sense of self? Perhaps I can use one of your ideas as my own.

Run, Mommy, Run

For those of you who wondered, I didn't make it to the Race for the Cure on Saturday. Munchkin got the stomach flu, and so we were homebound all weekend. Which means, unfortunately, that I don't get to share any of the wonderful, hilarious, witty slogans which abound at such events. The one time each year when breast jokes are in good taste, and I miss it. Sigh.

On a happier note, that means I have more time to train to actually run a 5k. My brother has graciously agreed to find another event to run with me this summer.

I did run this morning. I'm quite proud of my progress. I can run farther and even a little faster now.

While I was running, I had to smile at myself (laughing being out of the question due to gasping and wheezing). I was listening to the playlist I had prepared for the actual race. And it just made me smile. It's a weird and eclectic grouping of a number of different genres. Everything from alternative rock, to punk/pop, to Hullabaloo.

What, you don't know who Hullabaloo is?

They are, in their own words, "farm-fresh, free-range, organic kid-folk." You can check them out here. They are fabulous, and funny, and witty. And my kids love them! My favorite song of theirs to run to is called "Run Bunny Run." You have to find it and listen to it. Most days, I feel like I'm the bunny. Although, I have to admit to sounding more like the older brother. And, if I'm being honest, I'm also frequently the younger brother. Especially if another adult happens to stray too close to me. (Please talk to me, please, please, PLEEEEEEEEASE!!!)

But whatever the reason, it made me smile at myself as I moved from Muse to "Run Bunny Run" while running this morning. I think I'll just adjust the lyrics ever so slightly in my mind. Run Mommy Run.

I Looked Out The Window

And what did I see?

Popcorn popping in the apricot tree.

Spring had brought me such a nice suprise,

Blossoms popping right before my eyes.

Welcome, Spring! I'm glad you've finally decided to visit us.

Feel free to stick around just as long as you want!

Oh The Insanity

Have you ever felt a compulsion to do something absolutely insane for no good reason? Or at least no reason that you could adequately explain to someone else?

Apparently, I have. I am training to run a 5K. There's really not a good reason beyond that I feel I must prove to myself that I can do this. Which is a great motivator until I'm actually out running. Or, rather, jogging ever-so-slightly-faster than I walk.

I don't have any visions of grandeur, or winning, or even ever running very fast. That would be ridiculous. But then again, I already feel ridiculous gasping along the trail, yelling at Zippy to not go too far, urging Munchkin to keep up, and trying to keep the dog from pulling the stroller into the canal.

I can now do about 1/2 mile all at once. I can even do a couple 1/2 miles with just a little walking in between. But the 5K I want to run is in less than 4 weeks. I'm panicking a little. But I refuse to give up. Even if I end up walking parts of the race, I need to do this.

I roped my little brother into running with me. I have the feeling that, even though he started training after I did, and probably has less time to run between school and working, he'll kick my trash when we run together. It's a good thing we love each other. He'll forgive me for making him train to run while he's in school, and I'll forgive him for being younger, faster, and in better shape than me. It's a good trade.

This is one of those goals that seems to come out of nowhere, and really doesn't make sense. But it's a goal that is a driving force in my life right now. I have passion and desire to meet this goal, and I can't afford to waste it. Who knows, maybe after I meet this one, I'll actually be inspired to work on the rest that are languishing in my never-ending pile of "things I REALLY should be doing."

So, I want to know. What goal (whether seemingly impossible and insane or not) is stirring your passion right now? And what other ones are you ignoring?

Traditions We Hope Not to Repeat

What do you do between General Conference sessions? Eat a big meal? Head to the park? Play games? Take another nap? All good things. The one thing I don't recommend is taking your daughter to the emergency room because she swallowed a battery.

Yes, that is an Xray of Munchkin's body. That round white dot near the stomach is the button battery that she swallowed.

We were getting shoes and coats on to head to Grandma's house for a big family meal between sessions. Munchkin started pointing at her tummy--which could mean anything from, "I'm hungry, Mommy," to, "See! I put my shirt back on!" So, thinking I was being a great Mom (and also because I'm tired of the mute pointing), I said, "I'm sorry honey, I can't understand you unless you use your words. When you're ready to use your words, let me know."

That's when she said, "I swallowed a battery." Just matter-of-fact. I lost it. I think I may have even scared her a little. Suddenly, Mommy's volume has turned way up, and her eyes are bugging out of her head. Hmmmm, what's wrong Mommy?

So, we went to the hospital instead of Grandma's house. The whole way there, Munchkin was very quiet. Finally, as we're pulling into the parking lot, she quietly says, "Are they gonna cut my tummy open?" Oh heavens, my dear little girl. I reasurred her they would do no such thing. I didn't, however, mention that I had no idea if they would have to pump her stomach. Neither of us needed to think about that. Thankfully, Grandpa met us at the hospital and took Zippy and Little Man home with him so we wouldn't have to worry about them.

When we were done with paperwork and waiting behind our very own curtains, Munchkin looked around and asked, "Where are the cutters?" I guess I didn't do a very good job of reassuring her.

After a remarkably short time, we were assured that the only danger from these small button batteries comes if they get caught in your esophagus. That's where they are likely to disintegrate. But Munchkin's was already past her stomach, and will pass naturally. And, huge thanks here, we don't even have to watch for it to pass!!! Yeah!!!

While we were at the hospital, Munchkin managed to charm everyone around us. She assured the nurse very seriously that she is not allergic to butterflies. She was very brave and followed the Xray techs directions perfectly. She took really good, deep breaths. The only problem was convincing her to let out the air. They kept saying, "She's just so cute!"

Munchkin has spent the last 24 hours telling everyone she can about the whole experience. She carries our copy of the Xray picture around everywhere, even showing it to the carpool kids this morning. And her glow-in-the-dark sticker from the Xray tech may just be her new favorite posession.

This is not what I planned on doing between sessions yesterday, but I sure am grateful it turned out so well. And that it's over. Here's hoping your Conference Weekend was less eventful than mine.

Simple Pleasures--BOGO

I know I'm behind. But that just means there's two simple pleasures tonight.

I'm not offering much explanation for these two, becuase I don't think they need a lot. My simple pleasures for tonight are:

New Shoes and Chocolate.

Both relatively inexpensive, and both offering a rush of endorphins. What makes you feel better than new shoes or chocolate? Enough said.

Simple Pleasures--A Sleeping Child

There is something divine about a sleeping child. And I mean that in the most religious way possible. I think when a child is sleeping is when I can most clearly see them through the eyes of God's love. And not only because when they're asleep they aren't covering everything with jam, or wailing like howler monkeys, or asking for snacks they're never going to eat.

When my children sleep, I can see them without the distraction of my own reactions. I can see the hope and peace stored within them--a gift from Heavenly Father. I can see their personalities shine through too. Zippy always tangles himself in his blankets. He can't seem to be still even in sleep. Munchkin stretches her legs and arms out as far as they can go. She wants to be everywhere all at once. Little Man snuggles any blankets or toys that are in reach, and curls up onto his stomach--little bottom in the air. He's my lovey, snuggly child.

Right now, I'm especially grateful to have sleeping children. For the moment, they are all sleeping deeply and peacefully. After 3 weeks of sickness, that is a small miracle.

Simple Pleasures

There has been a lot of turmoil and chaos in my life in the past few months. Zippy was diagnosed with ADD/ADHD; Z-man's work schedule has undergone major changes; my depression has threatened to return; my grandfather passed away (requiring a quick and intense trip to the midwest); and I've been stuck in the house for the past 3 weeks with sick kids. I am discouraged.

So, in an effort to break myself out of this funk, I'm going to count my blessings.

Every day for the next 31 days, I'm going to list a simple pleasure that I am grateful for. Something that gives me joy or hope. Something that lifts my spirits.

This list will take me into Spring--which is a much more civilized season, if you ask me.

So here we go:

I am looking forward to one of my simple pleasures tonight. It won't happen until next week, but I'm already looking forward to it. After the kids are asleep and the house is quiet, I will change my clothes and slip out to play volleyball. I can hardly wait.

Volleyball is the only sport I enjoy without reservation. The jumping, running, diving, I just love it all. We play co-ed, so the net is high enough to present a challenge for me. And is there really anything better in sports than stuffing a powerful hitter who doesn't expect it?

Z-man laughts at my devotion to the weekly games. He understands my need for release, even if he doesn't participate in the outlet. He did, however put his foot down each time I got pregnant. I tend to end up on the floor multiple times in a game. But I wear any scrapes or bruises with pride. They mean that I've played hard.

There is a primal joy in such a physical activity. Sweating, breathing hard, making your body do what you want, laughing with friends, pounding out tension and frustration. An added benefit is the boost in confidence that comes from participating in something you're good at. I end the night relaxed, optimistic, and physically drained.

I can't wait.

Kitchen Doors

A good friend of mine dropped by a few days ago and we spent an hour chatting at my kitchen table. That was one of the best house I've had in weeks. I wasn't expecting her; my house wasn't clean; my kids weren't even dressed. But she didn't care about any of that, and I feel closer to her now. More comfortable and less inclined to hold myself back or hide imperfections.

In the past, these kinds of visits were much more common. Friends and neighbors came and went through the kitchen door. And family never would have thought to use any other door. The front door was for strangers and formal guests, not the people you love most. And those same family, friends, and neighbors used that kitchen door often. Visits were common, nearly daily events. You would stop in to see someone on your way somewhere else, or perhaps that was your destination. Or someone would come calling at your kitchen door. It opened right into the heart of your home. And no one thought twice about spending time chatting with one another. Lives were not so busy that a few minutes couldn't be found to spend with someone you love. Or even just someone who amuses you. And, if you were lucky, you had family and friends comfortable enough in your home to simply walk right in. No knocking required.

Some may think this is an idealized, romanticized, and possibly unrealistic view of the past. Lives have always been busy, and relationships sometimes have to take a back seat to the necessities of living. But I can tell you it's not unrealistic. When I was young, there were neighbors across the street that became family. If I wanted Tang for lunch, I walked across the street near lunchtime. If they wanted pickles, they came to our house. And the doors were completely open in either direction. No doorbells, no permission needed. We were home in either house.

Unfortunately, where I live, everyone seems so wrapped up in their own lives, that there's no time to share in another's life.

This isn't to indicate that I want ANYONE to just walk right into my house. There are still times and places for social niceties. And my literal kitchen door happens to be behind my fence--just where I like it to corral dogs and kids. Perhaps what I want, then, is a feeling of an open door. A guaranteed welcome from and for those I love. I would love to have friends that felt they could walk right into my house and be welcome. And I want my family to feel the same. I would love to feel confident enough in my reception to be able to walk into my close friend's houses the same way. The open doors of the past have by and large been lost. And I mourn that loss.

Dad and I were talking about this a few weeks ago, and the conversation wound its way around to Facebook, Twitter, and other forms of social media. Much of it was very interesting, and a lot of it was me trying to explain both to him and to myself why I resist most of this style of communication.

How does social media relate to my sense of loss? Today's world doesn't run to families living within a few steps of each other. No, now families and friends are separated by thousands of miles. And email, Facebook, blogs, etc. can all be useful for keeping in touch and feeling connected. But I think they're wonderful tools that are being misused. Obviously, I can't hate them all as this is posted on my very own blog. But they're used in place of the personal connection. No one writes letters or sends cards--both of which take more effort to prepare and encourage more thought as to the content included. Phone calls are even becoming rare--which is a shame too. Hearing the voice of a loved one is precious and worth far more than an announcement on someone's "wall." Visits in person are even more rare. How long has it been since someone just dropped in to see you? How long since you dropped in on a friend?

I realize that this is not going to be a popular opinion. I also know that by posting this on my own blog, I'm opening myself to the possibility of being seen as a hypocrite. I want to be sure that I clarify. I don't have anything against any of the social media tools. I like writing on my blog and reading others'. I text Z-man at least a couple times every week because he can't answer the phone at work. I use email every day, and my life would be very different without the internet. I met some of my very best friends through a website/forum. Most of my family and nearly all my friends have a Facebook page--even Z-man does. But lately I've been missing the personal communication that no longer seems important in the face of so many different forms of communication.

So, now you don't have to wonder why I'm not on Facebook. I probably will eventually make a page for myself. Simply because it is a good tool that can be used to keep in touch with people I love and want to stay close to. But don't expect a lot of time on there. I'd much rather have you over to visit. I can't promise my house will be clean, but I can promise you will be welcome.

Why I Love Romance Novels

I love to read.

That statement is quite a "Duh" moment for anyone who knows me. But what a lot of people may not know is this:
I love to read Romance Novels.

This may surprise some people. It may even dismay others--sorry Mom. But before any judgments are too ingrained, let me explain.

I'm not necessarily talking just about what I call "Bodice-Rippers." Those novels that go from one steamy scene to another with little to no plot in between. Novels where it's obvious the author writes with a thesaurus open next to her keyboard. How many synonyms are there for passionate anyway? Not to mention all the other, um, interesting synonyms they find. These books can be great for a laugh or to use as a guide on how not to seduce your spouse. But they don't exactly move my heart and soul the way a good book should. Plus there are too many pages that I need to skip over. :)

No, the books I love have more plot than steam. They have characters that face dilemmas. People I can understand and care about. Emotions I can connect with. Two people that are just as flawed as I am trying to make it to happily ever after.

And that, really, is the reason I read Romance. That guaranteed happy ending. The boy will get the girl (or vice-versa). The problems will be overcome. The misunderstandings resolved; the fears faced; and the hope, joy, and love embraced. There aren't many things better than a story with a happy ending.

There are a lot of books and authors that fit my definition of a Romance Novel. Jane Austen has never let me down. L. M. Montgomery, even Charlotte Bronte in Jane Eyre. And, of course, there's plenty to pick from in modern fiction. Almost too many to really appreciate. It's no secret that I love the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer (at least it really shouldn't be to anyone reading this blog). Enthusiasm is another of my favorites in the Young Adult category. I hesitate to start naming more books or authors for fear that I may never be able to stop. Although if any of you have either authors or books to suggest, I'm always open to that.

Suffice it to say that if it is well-written, involves characters that are well-developed, avoids obvious preaching, and ends with a boy and girl (or man and woman) getting together, it's probably on my list. There is enough bad news already in the world. I don't want to read a novel mired down in it.

Thank goodness for Romance Novels

Resolutions and the Ensuing Panic

Do you make resolutions for the New Year? I do. And this year, some of them scare me.

Most of them are pretty tame: get organized, get my budget in working order, lose weight, finish our 72 hour kits. The standard ones, for me at least.

But then there are a few that terrify me. Just before Little Man was born, I was working on a personal mission statement. I felt like I needed more direction to my life. Plus I was just days away from giving birth, so my hormones were making me certifiable. I was using some online prompts to formulate and idea of what I wanted and how to get there. One of the questions was "If time and money were not obstacles, and if success were guaranteed, what would you do?" Fun question, huh?

I wrote down my honest answers, and then there they were on my paper. OY. All of a sudden they terrified me. Out of my mind scared. I can hear myself screaming in my head whenever I think of it. Sometimes a whimper even escapes.

I'm not ready to share them here, but I can't ignore them. Answering that question honestly is going to change my life. And, while everything but survival took a back seat during Little Man's first year, I can't ignore those answers/goals any longer. I'm working on them, and I'm working on being brave enough to announce them to the world in general. Until then, I want to hear from you--anyone who reads this. What would your answer be? If time and money were no obstacles--if you had more than enough of both of them--if success were guaranteed to any degree you wanted--what would you do? Who would you be? What would you change? Be honest and brave. Maybe I can be too.