Road Trips

I have to admit our long road trip was a whole lot better than I anticipated it being. My husband has been working LONG hours lately and I thought it was time I took a long road trip to visit our parents and let the kids have time with their grandparents. So Sunday night, two weeks ago, I packed up my 4 year-old and my twin 2 year-olds and embarked on a 2,200-mile road trip. We drove the first few hundred miles to Las Vegas easily and that night as I lay in bed I had to say a prayer of thanks that the trip had started out so well. My sister accompanied us on the next 700 miles with her 3 year-old and 2 month-old. She was a champ considering we did it all in one day. At about 9 o'clock on day two, a lone van drove slowly into the driveway of Grandma and Grandpa's house with 5 children who were done riding in the car and 2 adults who were BEYOND done. Thank heavens for 2 loving aunts and Grandma and Grandpa who did so much to make life easy. We went to Bear World (it was a huge hit with the kids), to the splash pad, on the carousel, to Green Canyon and played an ample amount of the Wii. It was tremendously relaxing and the my kids loved, loved, LOVED being there! After a short 4 days, we turned around and headed back down to Utah (only a 4 1/2 hour trip) to visit our other grandparents. We got treated to Seven Peaks--twice (thanks Uncle Reed and Aunt Katie!!!!), the beautiful Bridal Vail Falls, the treehouse play place at the University Mall, and lots of cousins and aunts. The 6 days spent there flew by too fast and as each day passed, I began dreading our trip back home more and more. Granted, the kids had been angels up to this point, but there is always a breaking point right? It would be my luck that their breaking point would be on a long stretch with 8 or 9 hours still left and I would just start bawling. Luckily for me, I have a wonderful mother in-law who, I'm sure, could see the color draining from my face as the hours ticked closer and closer to our departure. What person in their right mind would do that drive alone? So she drove all 13 hours with us just to turn around a day later and fly back home. I definitely would say that there were guardian angels looking out for me and my kids. I drove the whole time and never felt the least bit sleepy. My kids were absolute angels. I've had more crying and whining going to Costco than I had on that whole car trip. Will I do it again next year? Absolutely. Will it be as successful? One can only hope...

Losing Ground

I have to admit I had my ego smashed this morning and served up to me on a platter by my riding friend, Sarah. We haven't been able to ride together for a few months and when we last rode, we were about at the same spot. However, in the last few months, she has obviously been working MUCH harder than I have and she smoked me today on our ride. There was nothing pretty about the way I was riding. I was stinky, sweaty, huffing, wheezing (gasping at times) and my face was--I'm sure--a sweet beet red.  She kept her pace the whole time on the flats and the climbs and it was extrememly humbling as I dragged myself after her. My goal for next time? To get back to where I was so that we can ride together again without her having to wait for me and pretend that it was even a workout for her. Thanks for the great ride, Sarah!

Storytelling

I have to admit my husband is a very talented storyteller. I'm not sure what made me think of it today, but I was thinking back on our days in college. Graduating with a degree in English, my husband had to take many writing classes; some he enjoyed, other he endured. One class he took focused on children's literature, so naturally one of his assignments was to write a children's book. The idea was about a little boy whose family had sold their house and were moving to a new neighborhood. On the day of the move the little boy didn't want to leave the house because he was afraid that if he moved, he wouldn't be able to have a birthday anymore. For the life of me I can't remember the end of the story, but I do remember thinking "Wow! That was a really clever story. If I were a mom, I would buy that for my kid". Now that he is a Dad, he tells our son a new original story each night. And each morning I'm treated to the tale, retold by my son (perhaps not as eloquent, but definitely still compelling). It's no less entertaining when my husband tells a story to me. He definitely has a way with words, always saying precisely what he means. Somehow out of the same vocabulary that I have, he's able to sound eloquent, mature and clever. I, on the other hand, seem to fumble over my words, give WAY too much information and never get to my point. Hopefully practice can make perfect because I do try not to be that way. But hey, if we were all talented in the same areas, life would be boring, wouldn't it?

Painting

I have to admit, I've never let me kids paint...until today. The very thought of letting three little ones have at it with paint has always set me on edge. I've seen way too many people's houses that have been beautified with their children's creativity that I've kept paints far away from my kids. I've already had to scrub marker, crayon and colored pencil off the wall. Why make it horrific by adding paint into the mix? But I've been thinking recently of how strict I am in what I will and won't let me kids do. My mom wasn't that way, why am I? Really what's the worst that can happen? Paint gets everywhere. So? Really what matters most? My children or my things? That's not to say that I don't want to keep things nice, but really my happiness revolves around my children, not my material possessions. If it revolved around those, what on earth would possess me to have kids? So today I forced myself to get over my fears and let them paint. I got a Dollar Store vinyl tablecloth, a thing of CrazyArt washable paints some paintbrushes, paper, I stripped my kids down and let them have at it. I think my favorite part of it was this:

The paint looked like this when we were done. Can you even tell what colors they are supposed to be? I sure couldn't as I was replacing the lids. But you know what I realized? The kids don't care. They loved painting--the paper and themselves--and everything else is just water under the bridge. So moral of this story for me is: sometimes I need to face my fears and let my kids do things that scare me to death because I may find, like I did today, that it's not as bad as I think it's going to be AND the joy my kids get from doing it offsets most of the frustration it causes.

Sheer joy, I tell you

Admiration

I have to admit I have such tremendous admiration for a woman that I've never met, but who married one of my high school friends. He passed away last year from brain cancer and I have followed her blog since then. Not only is she much more eloquent than I'll ever hope to be, but each blog post somehow combines the deep feelings of sorrow she feels at losing the daily companionship of her beloved husband, but she also shows her faith every day that she will be reunited with her love when she passes on. I think about any of the things that I have to go through day to day and I'm a bit ashamed that I dont always do it with the faith, poise and strength that she does. But I'm grateful for her and all those people in my life who, whether they know it or not, are a great comfort and strength to me. I'm a better person each day for the examples around me from siblings, parents, friends and yes, even strangers whom I've never officially met, but who uplift me and make me better through their strength. So to all of you out there who've touched my life without even knowing, thank you from someone who needs these great examples in her life.

Teaching

I have to admit I'm feeling like a bit of a failure today in the mothering department. Do you ever have days when your kids learn new things that aren't good? Today my kids were having a hitting fest and I hadn't the foggiest idea where they learned it nor how to stop it. It seemed like I was pulling kids apart ALL DAY LONG! That would be bad enough, but one of my girls has picked up screaming at the top of her lungs and an already frazzled mom + out of control high-pitched screaming at the top of her lungs = just not good. Let's just say I know where she gets her volume from because I found myself matching her, not in pitch, but definitely in decible level in a desperate attempt to get her attention and get her to SHUT UP. (Luckily I did keep myself from saying that today. All I did was yell her name). Finally, why, in spite of all my best efforts, do I feel like most of what I'm saying goes in one ear and out the other? I know my dear mother will laugh at my next statement, but I really felt like I was a pretty obedient and helpful kid, even when I was young. I helped clean up. I helped make my own bed. I helped clean up the dishes after meals. I never remembering hitting my siblings. Am I just delusional? Do I wear rose-colored glasses when I look at my childhood? Even so, I need to know: How many years does it take until your kids really help? How many years does it take until they'll clean with you? How many times do I have to say STOP FIGHTING!? I know what you're all thinking, "Ha! Just you wait. Your kids are 4, 2 and 2? Oh, honey, you've got a LONG road ahead of you." Inside I know my kids are still very young and maybe I'm expecting too much out of them. Or maybe I'm expecting too much out of all of us. Learning takes time and so does teaching. Patience, patience, patience. It's in short supply around here, but hopefully a good night's rest will replenish it.

True Love Stories

I have to admit (I'm going to get up on a soap box for a minute) I take issue with some love stories (aka chick flicks). I watched one recently that the main characters ended up together in the end, seemingly conquering all. But it left something definitely wanting. I can't figure out the thrill of a love story that can only come about with the ending of another one. In the movie, the lead female is unmarried and available. However, our male lead is already married. How can I find joy in the ending of someone's happily ever after, even if supposedly they're starting another happily ever after? I just don't think if the name of the movie was "Married, In Love and Committed... Until Something Better Comes Along" that we would all go running, hoping to see an uplifting movie. But wasn't that the story? Maybe not the story they meant to emphasize, but I saw one woman's hopes smashed. How could I watch a marriage end and then sigh contentedly at the end when the husband was with another woman? And what would make us think the next relationship would last if they weren't even willing to work on the last one? Each had promised before God and man that they were going to hold dear and love through the easy and the hard. Did our supposed hero do that? Did our heroine even think twice when her man left his wife for her? Has that really what we've come to? I would hate to think that the best I could hope for in a relationship--particularly in a marriage-- is for a few years of committment. I know that's not what people think they'll do at the beginning, but how can they justify it after a few or even many years? I knew I found my soulmate when I knew he saw so many of my failings and still chose to marry me. Throughout our marriage we've had some serious differences of opinion. We've had intense arguments. We even went 3 days without speaking one time. I don't tell you these things to brag, to air dirty laundry or even to just spout off. I tell you these things to say that there have been days when I'm not sure I didn't just growl at the sight of my husband. But I think true love stories all have these moments. Those are the times that show our committment, not the easy days. When do our marriage vows or covenants no longer matter? I must have missed the fine print at the bottom that says, "These promises you've made are null and void if you feel boredom, discontentment, anger, frustration or you've 'fallen out of love'".  So I pose these questions: Can we really justify lying to God and man? Do we even feel we've lied when we quit and say, "I'm done"?  Just food for thought... I do have to stop here and say that I'm not one of those people who thinks that no matter what there's no reason to divorce. Obviously when we are being abused, when someone else has broken their vows or things of that caliber, to stay would be detrimental to ourselves and any children that are in our marriage in many cases. But what I am saying is that the idea that "We're not in love" is a ridiculous excuse to call it quits. That you argue, disagree, whatever you want to call your differences, isn't even reason enough in my mind. If you bring two people together who are from seperate families, different cultures, different hobbies, friends, passions, etc, how can there not be conflict and disagreement? How many people who have been married for many years can honestly say they haven't had days, weeks, months and, yes, even years, when their marriage has not been exactly happily ever after? When they have felt that they are no longer "in love" with their spouse? When they are giving 100% and feel like they're getting nil in return? But haven't we all made promises to each other and to God that we would work together and take care of each other through the easy days and the rough years? That means something to me. That should mean something to everyone.

What kind of love story do you want? What are you willing to do to have it?

Okay, that's it. I'm off my soapbox...for now.