Good day

Today was ordinary. It felt routine. Felt like life. And as I get ready for bed tonight in realizing I don't ever want to forget this day.

The day started too early for us as parents. Jason rolls out of bed hoping the clock is wrong. I get out of bed for what feels like the dozenth time to tend to one if the boys. It was a chilly morning and I let the big boys crawl into my bed and wedge their chilly feet under me. After a few precious minutes of dozing they choose breakfast over cartoons and we're up.

Throughout the day the kids rotate through my attention. Sometimes their needs feel choreographed and I accomplish one after another successfully. Other times it doesn't go as well. Like when Sam needs me and Mason wants an early lunch and suddenly Eli is announcing he wants to use the potty.

Jason called from work at 1:14. That is not a normal break time. I was worried he'd chopped his arm off. Dramatic I know but that was my reaction. It was a power outage and he was getting off early. Much much better news than dismemberment.

I unsuccessfully ran a few errands (once again: power outage= closed stores) while Mason still at school and the other boys were napping. Then I took Mace and Eli to get real haircuts. I knew it needed to be done as equally as I knew I'd regret it.

We grabbed dinner from the beloved pizza cart. Jason built a cozy fire and we spent the evening not doing anything specific other than spending time with our children.

The new normal is Mason goes to bed quickly and easily. Eli procrastinates and we let him charm us out of disciplining him. Sam is still unpredictable; he went to sleep well but will likely be up shortly.

Good day. Good night!

today

Today I woke up feeling sad. Really really sad. For no reason sad. Although my night hadn't been restful and full of vivid dreams that I now can't remember, this morning I couldn't think of why any of them would make me feel so low. I tried going back to sleep and when I got up I slid over and got out of Jason's side (the actual "wrong side of the bed"). Still sad.

After breakfast I told the boys that we were skipping chores. All they had to do was brush their teeth and we'd go to the park. Mason was overly grateful and profuse in his praise of my kindness. Eli just kept shouting "side side side" (meaning outside). Mace picked Park Discovery and I'm glad we headed over early since it was hot and getting hotter.

Here are the boys all flushed and sweaty:

My favorite parts of the morning:
When Mason was playing in the rocket ship and kept yelling "Three Two One Fire". I would correct him and say "Blast off" but he thought I was in my own rocket ship and we were just playing.

When Eli decided to play the Hug Game which is where he alternately hugs me and then Mason repeatedly. He gives the best toddler hugs in the world.

Next we went to Mom's to visit her, Amy and Jeff. We feasted on Mom's homemade wheat bread and strawberry jam. Ames watched the boys while I ran out for a bit and then I came back and fell asleep on Mom's couch while Eli finished his very long nap.

By the time we got home it was late afternoon. Janett and Brady brought Brylie over so they could head to the temple. I love watching her because she's darling and it's good practice. Mason was sweet with her and Eli was either jealous or oblivious of her presence at any given moment. Jason fell asleep with her in they recliner.

While at the park I realized how long it's been that I've been feeling sort of crummy and run down. It's been about six weeks. I know my immune system is lame, but that's a long time. I was able to get in to see a doctor who informed me that I have strep. Which likely means Jason, who has the same symptoms, has it too. Though we haven't been down and out, sick in bed, we've both had a lingering sore throat and low energy this whole time. We started antibiotics tonight and were careful around the baby. Moral of the story, don't wait six weeks and don't kiss boys.

So now it's (past) time for bed. I'm not sad anymore, just tired. Perhaps it was the sunshine that cheered me up, or all the hugs, or the homemade bread. Or the antibiotics.

I can't imagine waking up tomorrow anything but happy. Tomorrow is one of the best days of the year. I promise to write about it (and spend some time catching up on all my other past due posts). Here's a hint: It's a night full of my favorite things. Family. Root beer floats. and FIREWORKS!

Snapshot: busy busy April

I am writing...wait...this could be better.
I am "righting from the wrong" computer.
That alone starts me off in a funky "this isn't going to work" mood.
Also, the camera is dead, so this will be a picture free post, which I don't prefer.
Also, Jason is watching an interesting documentary right behind me so I am distracted.
I'm tired but I'm also tired of making myself feel guilty all the time about not recording life.
So here you go, Self, a grumpy little post with love from me to you.

This month has been nuts. I think I've been saying that since December. Perhaps since high school graduation actually.

Bro-in-law Joe was able to get a weekend home before he goes to Afghanistan. All of the Starr family converged at our house for the occasion. Also it was Easter. For one night we headed out to the desert for some early spring camping and adventuring. Though it was great fun it ended in stressful circumstances that I don't think I have the energy to expound on right now. Part of which included driving the Rhino out of the middle of no where for hours. That part was actually delightful but the cold and wind didn't help my cold much. I wish I had a better immune system. I get everything that goes around and then I'm sick forever. It's been over a week and this is the first day I feel human again.

Janett had her baby which was perfect timing with all the family in town. I love that we have room for everyone, but it got close this time. We used all but the last two bath towels. We received an exorbitant amount of towels when we were married so that's really saying something. Eva Dean stayed for the week to help with the baby. Let's be honest. That baby is a peach and hardly cries. Sometimes it's just nice to have extra time to hold babies and think about Life. Mason grew increasingly sad as each family member left.

Luckily, to cheer Mason, we were watching Jennifer's dog for the week while she visiting Jeff in AZ. I've contemplated getting a dog for the boys. They both love animals so much. This dog is especially convincing. However, it's hard to love a dog who you curse all night. She had rough nights and I think was homesick. I think we'll be waiting quite a while before we consider pets again.

This weekend was the Iron County Emergency Preparedness Expo. I was more excited for it than Christmas. Dad was on the committee, Dave was the key note speaker, and I had a booth promoting Bountiful Baskets. Though the event went a little long it was a great time. I get a bit spastic when it comes to gear anyway, but the emergency variety gets me especially giddy. On Wednesday I helped out with a Relief Society activity and did a mini workshop on 72 hour kits. It's certainly been a month focused on preparedness.

I felt like I had a lot more to write about but I guess that will pacify the guilt monster for now. I'm going to head to bed after peeking on the two little charmers across the hall.

a real snapshot of our life

I love coming across pictures on the camera that really capture our life. This one especially shows a lot about the men in my life.
Here's Jason. On a bike. Smiling. Being a good dad.
Here's Mason. Being silly. Wearing whatever he felt like putting on. Having fun.
Here's Eli. Crazy hair. Wanting to be part of the action. Growing up too fast.


I'm a lucky girl. 

I'll blog if you blog

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. 

snapshot: winter is upon us

This jeep was once my oldest niece's. It was a pink barbie jeep. At some point it was passed down to one of my nephews, spray painted camo-style, and evolved into a more manly means of transportation. Eventually it fell into disrepair. My sister was planning on giving it to DI but I optimistically took it off her hands, thinking we might be able to fix the battery problem. And some day we may. Until that day, the boys don't realize the toy is supposed to move and they spend hours playing in it.

Here we've got my two rascals, half dressed, playing in the back yard. Mason is singing and Eli is on the phone getting directions for their adventure. This was probably one of our last days playing in the yard without bundling up. It's gotten cold. Really cold. A few days ago I had to de-ice the plane in the wee hours of the morning. That marks the official beginning of winter for me.

Highlights of life: We refinished our new/old kitchen table that used to be out in the garden. I'll get around to posting pictures eventually but this table is the one I grew up with. It's sort of the reclaimed farm table type that I've been seeing everywhere. It's beautiful. I love sitting down for family dinner at it with Jason at one end and Eli at the other.



We've loved the harvest season. Even more than the sense of self sufficiency, I've most loved the sense of community. It seemed like the neighborhood was in a constant state of giving. Each shared their surplus and the produce was distributed from house to house. We enjoyed apples, pears, and peaches that our neighbors had in abundance. We shared our radishes, squash, corn and even carrot tops (for the chickens). I don't want to spoil it, but I discovered the most nifty kitchen appliance in the world. My friend Lisa lent me hers and I now stay awake at night dreaming of owning my own. More on this to come.


Mason has memorized the Pledge of Allegiance and recites it at least a dozen times a day. I have video of it I'll be putting on his blog. He's so darling. He also got a new bed and stayed in it ALL NIGHT LONG last night.

All weekend Eli has suddenly been standing up on his own. Today at church he kept doing it. He was certainly showing off. If any of the ladies in Relief Society weren't watching him (although most were) he would cough or call to them until he regained their attention. At one point he was standing, not holding onto anything, and suddenly took a little step. I almost shrieked with excitement, which would have surely sent half the room into cardiac arrest and awoken the other half. Good thing I held it in.


Mostly our lives revolve around waiting for Jason to get home from work, scheduling the day around nap time, and preparing for the next trip out of town. I fill my extra minutes with reading the Great and Terrible series which leads me to counting and recounting our food storage. Mason dresses up in Halloween costumes and plays with the Harris kids. Eli is happy. Always happy. Well, except for when Mason attacks his feet which drives us all crazy. Jason builds fires to keep us cozy. Life  is cozy.

snapshot

A post titled "snapshot" with no pictures. Yup. I miss writing. I will eventually find a way to keep all the balls in the air. Until then, blogging has taken a back seat. However, I need to write. For my sake, for recording, for whatever. So I'm introducing "snapshots". They'll be quick, dirty, and grammatically incorrect. Just enough to record what life is like. Just enough to let a little steam out of the kettle so I don't explode.

Today. Mason slept in for the first time in ages. Mason slept in his own bed, all night for the first time in AGES people! Eli coughed a bit during the night but also slept really well. Jason, wounded from another grueling game of church basketball, didn't sleep so well. Yet he was off to work so early it still felt like night. He's always so good at saying goodbye. It scares the heck out of me every time (quick joke my mom told me tonight: a boy asks his father "What is heck?" the wise father responds "it's a place where there is no Gosh").

I actually had to wake Mace up to get ready for school. On Monday the bus driver said they'd be coming later since the route was pretty short. By later she must have meant even earlier. We ran out to the bus, which was blocking the way of the garbage truck, which was blocking the way of another bus. Our street has never been so busy. As the bus pulled away I realized Mason hadn't brushed his teeth. It bugged me so much I was tempted to show up at his classroom with a toothbrush. I'm not even going to admit that for the first/last/only time ever he also had a pop tart for breakfast. I didn't go grocery shopping as planned since Jason was out late (waaaaay late) getting beat up playing ball. We were out of milk. What a way to start the day.

Visiting teaching, grocery shopping, phone calls, errand running, and then home to meet Mason getting off the bus. He said "My teacher said: Mason you don't talk very much". Oh Mace. I also spent about 20 minutes at the gas station discussing the best way to get to the Grand Canyon and rating the "curviness" of hwy 14. Spent part of the middle of the day falling dozing on the floor while the boys threw blocks at my head. I love having two. I'll say it a million times. I love how they make each other laugh. I love how Mason will run into their room squealing "Good Morning Eli!". I love how Eli brightens at the sight of his brother.

More time spent washing bottles full of peaches and jam, cleaning out a few dresser drawers, resubscribing to the newspaper, and playing tag. 

Jason came home, still limping. We talked about our plans for the long weekend, the end of the summer, the rest of the year, the rest of our lives. Yep, have it all planned out. Don't be jealous.

I ran to work. It was so hot. I try not to complain. I hate wearing shoes though. I'd never complain if I could just wear flip flops. Ditching the hideous uniform all together would be nice. Mom's flying standby to Reno tomorrow. Checked the flights. Listed her. Checked her in.

Ran home. Made dinner. Bathed the boys. Ran back to work. Talked with Kacy. He's a very calming influence. And we work well together. Drove to mom's to drop off her tickets. Sat around telling jokes with mom and dad and pretended we weren't tired. Came home. Everyone is asleep but my head is racing so I type.

The end.

I never want to forget mom retelling a spectacular scene she saw flying back from Oregon. So amazing she wanted to stand and proclaim "Behold!" to all the passengers too busy on their iPhones to notice the miracle outside the window.

I always want to remember dad's pleased expression when I retold one of his classic jokes and made mom burst out laughing. You know the one. The man goes into his therapist and says "What is wrong with me? I'm a wigwam I'm a teepee I'm a wigwam I'm a teepee". The Therapist says "Well it is clear that you are two tense!"

I love the way the kids look when they are sleeping. Curled up or splayed out. Pouty lips and stillness.

I love the catharsis of purging words out of my head. Fingers move without thought. Too fast at first. Slowing down and I think I can rest now. Perhaps unedited thought dumping is the answer to my insomnia.