Lindsey says we need to write more. I'll admit I am still catching up from last year and post dating like crazy. I have a lot of work to do. But I also pointed out that she hasn't really posted since returning to the states. Exactly, she says. So we blog.
For the record I hate the word blog. It sounds like a yucky cold symptom. As in "he sounded so blogged up when I talked to him on the phone." Or it could be a description for when you are feeling scrubby. As in "I ran to the store after working out. I looked like a total blog when I ran into an old boyfriend."
As usual though, I am having a hard time feeling inspired with this forced writing feeling. I have some good topics I want to write about, but I'm just not feeling it right now. So what else?
Well, for starters I am writing in the bathroom. (ew, that's so bloggy). Jason and Mason are out exploring in the rhino with the Johnson boys. Later they are all going to a basketball game at the University. I started trimming Eli's hair until I felt regretful and stopped. Now he's in the bath and I'm typing and supervising. Most people would see Eli and be of the opinion that his shaggy hair is still in need of a trim. At least now it's out of his eyes and not past his neck anymore. Eli started hating the bath a few days ago. Today I put him in first and then turned on the water. It seems to have done the trick and he's contentedly playing.
I can always write about food. I made Hawaiian haystacks last night for the first time. I've been craving leftovers all day. Actually all night as well. I worked until midnight and when I got home I had a serious debate with myself about eating again at that late hour. I guess I lost since I went to bed without. Janett and Brady came over for dinner and brought delicious homemade strawberry lemonade. It was amazing. I wonder if it is normal to love food so much.
A while back we had a Chinese dinner complete with chop sticks and fortune cookies. It is fun to have Mason grown up enough to be interested when I show him where China is on the map and to talk about different cultural things. Eli devoured each egg rolls in two bites. He is an eating machine. Mason earnestly tried to use the chop sticks. He is so determined. They make dinner time entertaining, that is when I'm not pulling out my hair in frustration as Eli stuffs his face and makes a huge mess and Mason eats like a bird and just wants to be done.
*Eli is putting his face under the running water and then looking at me and acting shocked until I laugh. Then he smiles and laughs and does it again.*
Mason's favorite food is Otter Pops. He asks to have two, which I don't let him because one always melts and makes a mess. So now he asks for "two but one at a time". I can be okay with that. He will bring me an Otter Pop, scissors, and a wash cloth. My job is to cut it open and then wrap it up so his hands don't freeze.
Here's a food picture for you. We had extra cottage cheese left over from making stuffed shells. Eli had eaten everything else in the house so I dished some up for him. Cottage cheese is not a food I can eat plain and feeding him was making me gag. Mason offered to help out and cheerfully fed his little brother.
In unrelated news, I decided to give up being a slacker mom for Lent. It's a bit harder to track than other years when I've given up meat or chocolate but it needs to be done. The other day Mason came in while I was reading my scriptures and asked what I was reading about. "Robbers". What are they stealing, he asked. It suddenly occurred to me that he is old enough to read what I read, not just the basic scripture stories that we stick to. So he sat with me while I paraphrased each verse into understandable words. I decided we need to do it together every day. The next day we got to the part where the bad guy is hung in a tree. I hesitated there since that's pretty violent for a 3 year old. Mason didn't seem bothered by it, asked a couple questions, and then asked "then what?"
Mason likes the story of Samuel the Lamanite and will flip to that picture in his scriptures. He will show me the bad guys that are shooting arrows, laugh, and say "but they missed" like it's the biggest joke.
We went out to Three Peaks yesterday. Despite the rough offroading in
the rhino, Mason quickly fell asleep in the back. Even Eli dozed off and
on. After a couple hours we got out to play on the rocks. I love the
cool rock formations we have in this area.
During one of my early psychology classes at college I learned about how Australian aborigines would just take off into the bush. Walkabouts, as they are called, involved few supplies, solitude, and introspection. They were both spiritual journeys and tests of survival. The goal was enlightenment and self actualization. Okay, I don't know how much of this is the white man's opinion on what was happening, but I fell in love with this idea and started planning my adventure. I picked an area out west of town in the desert and planned to be gone 3-4 days. I figured I'd take a knife and some kind of empty water container and that's it. I learned about edible plants, shelters, and how to create a green house effect on desert plants to create enough condensation to get drinking water. I added a plastic bag to my supply list. I spent time thinking about the dangers of rattlesnakes, big cats, and dehydration. I couldn't wait. And then- I didn't do it. I never actually decided against it. I simply didn't do it. I didn't make time for it or schedule it in. (side note: scheduling a walkabout is probably not how it's supposed to happen, but I didn't want to freak out my family, co workers, and roommates by just wandering off). Life went on. I got engaged, married, and then we started moving all over the nation. Had a baby. Then another.
Yesterday I sat on the knobby rock watching hawks float above me while the spring sun unsuccessfully tried to warm me up. I eyed a little indent in one of the rock formations and started planning on how I could turn it into a shelter if I had picked this spot as my temporary desert home. I considered a small muddy section of ground that was moistened by water seeping from the rock and wondered how late into the season it would stay wet. Suddenly I realized that I will never have my walkabout. I will never live alone in the desolation, even for a few days. I will not have hours of silence to think about my life and my purpose. This new life is the adventure I have chosen. And you don't wander away from your family in hopes of achieving some greater understanding of life. You stay in the trenches and grow in ways you never dreamed possible. I have discovered so much about myself by how I handle the 100th time a kid throws food across the room. I see the world so differently just by looking through a child's eyes. I hope someday my family will be interested in doing survival trips together. Until that day, just getting to church on time feels pretty extreme.
I thought I was done on this topic but there is a little voice in my head that keeps whispering "But you did leave them. You do value your own adventures more than anything, even being together."
I don't know how to explain this, but it's partly true. I do leave sometimes. I didn't intentionally plan it this way, but when each of my babies was around 10 months old, I left. As in, out of the country left. When Mason was a baby we went to Ireland. And a few months back I left baby Eli and when to The Netherlands. Is it any different? I wouldn't say they were abandoned in any way. Both times my mom took the baby and this latest time Jason took Mason to a family reunion at the lake. I wouldn't even say that I "needed to get away". It was more like there was an opportunity that I didn't think would present itself again. Is it any different? Is traveling to the other side of the world any better than walking out into the wilderness? All things considered it might be safer to stay local and camp out compared to so much travel, transportation, strange cities, language barriers, and sleeping in airports as I tried to get back. Is it any different? I like to think it is. Even though I do leave, I cannot wait to get back. I value adventure and travel, but not more than being together. When my family is not together it physically hurts. I suppose the question is will I do it again?
So there we go. Haircuts and boys. Food and robbers. Rocks and airplanes. That is a pretty good snapshot of my life.
So there we go. Haircuts and boys. Food and robbers. Rocks and airplanes. That is a pretty good snapshot of my life.
