Miss you nanner.

If this picture is the only good thing that came out of Thanksgiving weekend, all the prep and crazy would be worth it!  But it’s not…  More to come!

A little privacy please?

I almost never write about Jason.  He’s such a private person.  Maybe I don’t out of respect for his privacy…

NAH. 

Several years ago I asked a marriage counselor a simple question. It wasn’t phrased so much as a question as it was a slur of words spit out in exasperation. 

“Why can’t we just have a normal marriage, like everyone else??”

He laughed.  That counselor laughed.  A good hearty laugh.  He of all people would know.  No normal marriage is what it seems. 

We both have taken our turn, well…  turning things upside down.  We started messing things up when we first got married,  and continued on doing so now for nearly 10 years.  We just figured out there will always be things to mess up, things with which to make mistakes, things that need fixing. Thaaaat’s the part we’re getting good at.  The fixing.  We know how to make a mountain out of a mole hill, and how to avoid doing it.   We have traveled (tripped/stumbled) down the road of sorrow.  And then headed back on the path to forgiveness.  We still have a long journey ahead.  BUT…

We have never laughed so loudly, smiled so broadly, loved so deeply, as we do now in our 10th year together.  He is my friend. My companion.  My love. 

It’s in the fine print

So I bought some new clippers. 

Aren’t they pretty?  They sound like a jet engine when you turn them on.  And they are awesome.  I could shear a sheep with these babies.   So today I was looking through the warranty info and reading the fine print. 

This warranty does not cover normal wear of parts or damage, resulting from any of the following…  (it goes on to list)  …Further, the warranty does not cover: Acts of God, such as fire, flood, hurricanes, and tornadoes. 

It doesn’t cover Acts of God!  I shouldn’t be surprised that God was mentioned here, but I was.  It could’ve said, the warranty doesn’t cover natural disasters, a phenomenon, a supernatural event, freak accident, or aliens taking over planet earth.    Thank you Oster for this small print truth. 

 

Pick a chick

Fall Carnival was last weekend and I have three additions to the family.  Chick number one, Beautiful unicorn sparkle bird, and Motorcycley.  Keep in mind we live a bit out of city limits so the festivities fell into the categories of Money Goat (they tied money to a goat and the kids chased it), the Chick chase, and the typical, bounce house, dunk tank, cake walk, etc etc, and the concession stands.   Lainy was all in for the chick chase.  I had to coerce Jared into lining up.  He was not enthusiastic.  I figured I didn’t have much to worry about.  Until they both came giggling and squealing each carrying a wiggling and squeaking chick.  What are the chances?   There were like 30 kids in their group and 6 chicks!  Ok, I figured we could give them away later right?  Then Jayce’s group was up.  The older they got, the more competitive it got.  The chase ended and Jayce was empty handed.  Phew.  But wait!  A chick had escaped.  Through the fence and into the adjacent field.  The kids stood watching it run free it seemed.  Until a kid shimmied up and over said fence and grabbed the fleeing chicka-doo.  My kid.  3 for 3!?  I heard myself sigh loudly as a mother consoled her child walking by empty handed and in tears. 

There was no prying those chickens away after that.   Jayce refused to name his.  (He assumed for a while that we would eventually eat it.)  It’s been a full week.  They still wake every morning with the words can I go see my chick? on their tiny tired lips.  And every afternoon they spend hours playing with them.  I’m getting used to the idea. 

My Autumn Eyes by Jayce

My autumn eyes behold

The tall tree at home.

The big fat person.

The tiny milk dud.

The little tiny weirdo.

 

*** I’m sure he meant no offense. 

Today I…

Began writing a little story.  A children’s story. Maybe someday I’ll share it with ya. It’s about counting your blessings.  It’s about knowing life changes and sometimes the stuff you want to hang onto the most gets lost in the shuffle of change.  I love the change.  It’s the shuffle I haven’t mastered yet.  So, following suit with you fellow bloggers in a month of thankfulness, here are the things I am grateful for even in midst of the shuffle. 

• I am grateful I don’t have a cold.  I hate stuffy noses and coughing.
• I am grateful for friends and sisters who let me chatter their ear off. 
• I am grateful for a husband who has a job. 
• I am grateful for the internet. 
• I am grateful for my calling teaching the 16/17 year old young women. 
• I am grateful for brown floors that don’t show the dirt. 
• I am grateful for bleach. 
• I am grateful for 80 degree weather in November.
• I am grateful that Jason’s hobby is collecting Hot Wheels and not real wheels.
• I am grateful for authors so I can read.
• I am grateful for modern medicine.
• I am grateful for Alpine Bakery so I don’t have to make bread myself.
• I am grateful. 

7 Brides for 7 Bros

This week for our musical I assumed I would be on my own.  7 Brides for 7 Brothers.  The kids didn’t seem interested so I took it into the office while I sewed costumes.  Halfway through I had Lainy and Jared squeezed into my office chair hushing me.   Even Jayce begs to watch it for our after dinner TV time. We have watched it 5 times together since.  Always at their request. 

Sedona memories

I grew up in So Cal and have never ventured south to Mexico. 

I have lived in AZ for 10 years and until a few weeks ago had never been to Sedona. 

We started out on the side of the road at an outdoor farmers’ market.  Whatever was in that field was probably very cool.

I know this looks like my mom, but it’s her twin sister, Julie.  Jared didn’t know twins were a reality until he took them in about 10 yards from each other.  I think his little head went back and forth between them about 10 times wondering how on earth she was in two places at once.  Once he realized she wasn’t Grammy, it only took all of 10 seconds to warm up to her!

We hit Montezuma's Castle along the way which was VERY cool.  I have a family of rule breakers and its a miracle that place is still in tact.  Jason wanted a close up shot, so he went close up.  Jared broke a chunk off of the (thankfully modern made) wall. 

Drewby had a grand time in my hair.  I swear I didn’t mind, though the picture would suggest otherwise.

I found Jared in the gift shop shaking this and trying to get the money out of the donations box.  Look at his gaze, the kid wanted that money.

Stopped off for a hike and found a walking stick bug.  Very cool. 

The rock formations were breathtaking and the weather was amazing.

Husband and 8 year old child.  Again, with the rule breaking, only this time I thought we might need a rescue chopper… They were a LOT higher than this picture looks.  Dummy.

How cute are they?  It is a still little weird seeing two of my mom. 

We ended the day going through the Church in the Rock.

Actually the day ended with milkshakes in this little place that had the ceiling covered in twinkly outer space lighting and alien life forms all over the place and creepy space music.  Weird. 

The paint plate

This plate started as a cheap plastic plate from Wal-Mart and has become a splotchy, messy, much used, memory holder. 

The dark green on the very bottom was used to paint an old picture frame that held my weekly menu and pictures of Jayce when he was a baby.

The gold used to paint the Gold plates for girls camp one year. 

The black was used to paint the Crayola signs on Halloween costumes when my kids and cousins were a box of crayons.

The red white a blue were used for painting popsicle stick flags for the Fourth of July.

It’s used several times a week for painting pages of super heroes and princesses, and sometimes arms legs and faces. 

Doesn’t look like much.  It’s all in the eye of the beholder. 

For me, it’s a plate full of memories.

Big Momma Lu

Jayce started (and has already ended) his first basketball season this year.  I have sat through countless baseball games and a couple of soccer games cheering him on as part of my motherly duties.  But basketball…  I know I will be that mom who gets removed from the gymnasium for disorderly…  yelling.   It’s my sport. I understand it. I love it.  So, when Jayce’s coach asked if I wanted to scrimmage coaches against the whole team of 11 kids, I was thrilled. 

You know when you were a kid, (or an adult) and you hear the cool nicknames people end up with?  And you wish you had one?  Yeah, that was me, with a name like Julia I thought for sure I was exempt and would never receive one (I did, but that’s another blog post).  So, that day while running around the court with little people, I had the ball and was dribbling past Jayce, when he said, “Hey, Big Momma!”   

IT  STUCK.

All three of my kids call me Big Momma on a regular basis!  I am doomed to be known as Big Momma for the rest of my life! 

And this morning when Jayce was asking why Jared (who is barely 4) has bigger feet than Braydon (who is 5) I explained that both he and Jared have bigger feet that most kids his age.  And then my downfall, I asked him did he know why?  He turned around in that chair and said,

“Cuz you’re Big Momma?”   

 

Whoosh! Was that time flying by?

Last month I was outside and caught Lainy flying past me on her bike to the driveway, she smiled as she turned her bike to the side and skidded flawlessly to a stop.  I walked over and took the training wheels off.  She just took off again.

This week Jared followed suit.  It’s been 3 days and he’s already trying to stand while riding and doing ‘poppawheelies’

This year I have no children in diapers, (even at night!) all children at school at some point or another during the week, all children in primary, no children who cry when I leave the house, all children who ride bikes with no training wheels, and all children who have grown to love being together. 

I am sad some moments…   then I go back to reading my book in quiet while they are all keeping themselves occupied on their own!

I got off at the wrong stop…

I am ready for the city life again.  Oversized scorpions and tonight a snake in the garage.  Eck.   Give me an HOA, a 12x12 patch of grass, and a cookie cutter house, and stamp me happy. 

Ok, maybe I got ahead of myself there.  I have realized in my 5 years of stumbling upon creatures from the very depths of hell, dusting in vain, and spending ridiculous amounts in gas each month, that I don’t want to live in the city.  Or even the suburbs.  I like this quiet out here.  I like that my kids can hop on their bikes and have plenty of space without traffic.  I love the peace.  I just don’t want all of that here.  Too hot.  Too dusty. Too brown. Too many creepy crawlers.  But, I’ll take it with a smile if that’s where I’m meant to be…  

Anyone heard of this site?  It’s so fun!  You answer a bunch of questions about what kind of place you want to live in and it gives you the top 24 cities that match!  Weirdly mine are in Washington, Kansas, Indiana, Missouri, Michigan, Iowa, Colorado, Ohio, and Nebraska.  Where is your ideal location?

My friend Monica

There is probably an episode of ‘Friends’ that I can associate to nearly everything in my life.  I completely relate with Monica on so many levels.  But mostly, it’s her loudness, and her love of organizing. 

Finishing up dinner tonight I was doing dishes, cleaning pots and pans, packing extra food away and finally wiping down counters.  It hit me how much I love watching a kitchen transform from crazy food mess to sparkling clean. 

On to the friends episode.  I LOVE and totally indentify with the one where Chandler cleans Monica’s kitchen and rearranges everything, and instead of freaking out that everything has been moved she thanks him for such a wonderful gift as letting her put everything back. 

***Note to my children/spouse if they happen to read this and get any ideas…  If you mess up the house and say Happy Birthday, your busted. 

How to get out of an 8 foot hole

Jayce’s teacher asked them to write detailed directions to this statement.  Here’s Jayce’s response…

To get out of an eight- foot hole first call a robot and tell him to drop a match and a roket.   Second put the rocket on your back.   Third baptism by emerson.  Jest jocking.  Third light the mach.  Fourth put it on the rocket.  Or you could clim out with a later becase when I get on it, it will fall becuse it is raining the latter sank into the mud. 

I love this kid.  He is a lazy speller.  And obviously he gets a little distracted…   To think I just about threw this gem out before reading it. 

Unsinkable

We are still slowly plucking away at the list of musicals I deem a necessity in my children’s lives.  Today was The Unsinkable Molly Brown.  Could be the most memorable musical of my childhood.  I highly recommend it.  My sisters and I sing from it often.  And hilariously.  So…   Belly up!

There’s damage with any explosion

It comes out of nowhere really.  I mean I guess you knew it was coming.  All the signs were there.  All the warnings.  It’s not like an explosion isn’t worked up to.  You have to put the explosives in there and light them right?  Surely once you light them and walk away, you expect them to blow up at some point.  Just not sure at exactly what moment it will blow.  And for the those on the other side of the hill who never saw you shoving explosives in there and lighting it, wow were they unprepared.  All that noise and blasting.  Stuff flying through the air and being too close to it and having the ash and crud fall down on top of them without warning.  Seems as if they should have had some warning.  Probably scared them a bit.  Too bad you didn’t think that through before everything blew…

Today I shoved the explosives in and lit them.  Today my family were those on the other side of the hill being rained on by my explosion.  No warning.  Just noise and crud flying through the air.  Sorry family.  I’ll try and give a little warning next time. 

My hour.

There’s hours for sleeping

for eating

for feeding

for laundry

for homework

for the salon

for scrubbing

for carpooling

for bills

for scolding

for hugging

for comforting

for countless things that need doing. 

Then, there’s the hour for me.  The hour of silence, to read or relax, to eat without sharing.

Just enough time to notice the silence. 

And just enough time to love my life for all the craziness that it is.

Food critic

Salad.  I eat it. I know.  Doesn’t seem like anything to announce.  It is.  Trust me.  Let me give you a little peek into my eating history. 

I used to swallow peas, chopped up green beans, corn, and diced carrots like pills.  Yes, I plugged my nose at the same time. 

In my earlier years, while I was still an amateur, I would wrap things in my napkin, and push things around my plate to make it appear as if I had eaten something. 

I once took my mashed potatoes and stuffed them under the cushion I was sitting on at the table.  Only to find out when my gramma cleaned the floor, that it went straight through the wicker under said cushion and formed little potato worms. 

My chair at the table backed up against the stairs.  It was an open space under there where we stored odds and ends.   I used to take a piece of whatever we were eating that wasn’t to my liking, and quickly chuck it behind me into the abyss of miscellaneous things under the stairs. 

I gagged if anything green came near my mouth.  For years. 

So, I eat salad.  Seems like a bigger deal now right?  Look closer, I swear there’s some lettuce under all that chicken. 

Marker wars

I’m not sure how it started that first day.  I imagine one of us, (probably Shannon) walked by with a marker and without thinking did a little mark on the innocent one (me).  Or perhaps it started as an accident (on my part) and the other (Shannon) retaliated and so the war began.  Either way, these marker wars are some of my favorite memories.  We (I) would come away in the end, covered in marks from a black sharpie marker and Shannon, would have a small mark somewhere behind her ear or on the back of her arm.  And it was usually yellow or orange (as I remember it).  It became a game.  She or I would hand the other a marker, (I usually got a light colored one to defend myself with) and we would sort of lunge (swordfight) at one another in a fit of giggles and wrestling.  I never won.  Ever.  She was smaller than me and quick.  Even when we played “throw the other on the couch’” (which is played just as it’s called), I never won.  I outweighed her and I was taller.  And yet, I was always the one covered in black ink, on the couch.  I loved it.  Because I loved her.  Everything was (is) always more fun when she was involved. 

So when I found these two well, like this, I wondered how Jared ended up so lucky as to be covered in blue marker and Lainy just had a few marks…  I’m sure it’s because he loves her.  And she him.

 

100% chance of showers

*** This post was written about a month ago

Oh This stormy day is august suits my mood.  It’s a weather hiccup.  Doesn’t belong in the organizations of the heat and summer.  I like organization.  I like things in a controlled environment.  Planned. Prepared. Expected.  Jason lost his job this week.  Unplanned.  He doesn’t see to be panicking at all.  He says I need to be patient.  Calm.  Wait for something to come.  WAIT?!  What until it falls into my lap?  Nice try.  I wait for nearly nothing.  Run after it. Work for it. Plan! Prepare! Expect!

Current blogging day:

Ok. Now I look at this entry and wonder where my brain was.  More importantly where was my faith?  We have been praying for years, about whether or not to sell the house.  Whether or not to go to school full time instead of this crazy working and schooling.  Where home is for us?  Should be expand our family, or is it complete?  And just couldn’t get past that where we were, was where we should be. 

Now, I like change.  Always have.  I like organizing, planning, and preparing.  I wanted something new.  Well, I certainly got it.  After scrolling down the list in my brain of ‘possible answers that I could deal with from my Heavenly Father’ this one was not on the list.  So, it took me a bit to recognize that oh yeah, I asked for some answers. 

It was amazing to see that people,books, lessons, and comforts I needed to understand that what is happening IS the answer.  Sometimes the answers seem to suck.  Like losing a job and house in one foul swoop.  But in 10 years, will I look back and think, it was brilliant.  I could have never gotten to where I needed to be without it.  Of course.  So today I am grateful for this stormy day in the summer.  The rain. Even the mud. 

Why wasn’t I this cool when I was 8?

Jayce is the coolest kid.  He and I have always gotten along.  I just like him.  Of course, I like all of my kids.  But even if he wasn't my kid, I would just think he was so cool.  Here’s some proof…

This was his rocket booster he asked me to tape on. 

Jayce came with us to buy a car and was hilarious.  We kung foo-ed our way through the waiting. 

 

There is almost always some sort of weapon strapped to this kid.  Plus, his own ‘guns’ of course. 

Jayce is amazing with paper.  On this occasion he needed tanks for his men.  Those paper things are origami tanks.  No, I didn’t help him.  He makes weapons out of paper too of course.

This is a snake eating a poor lizard that Jayce had himself been trying to catch.  He would have caught him too, had it not been for the snake. 

This is the scene I came upon one afternoon while Jayce was taking stock of his weapons. 

The kid loves to hike.  We hiked one day and were ready to head back and Jayce complained it wasn’t a real hike.  Wasn’t hard enough.  So we took him off trail and up the side of the mountain.  He loved it!

Jayce and Jared flying jet planes with go cart helmets and paper steering wheels. 

He could make pancakes on his own by the time he was 5.  Once he got up early and made them for me. When I woke up I wondered where they were.  In the trash he said,  they looked really weird.  He had used flour instead of pancake mix. 

He wanted so badly to be Avatar for Halloween last year and even let me shave his head.  Awesome.

Watch your language

Dinner gets a bit…  out of hand at times at our house.  Growing up, we talked about our day around the table, discussed life and the happenings.  It wasn’t quiet.   Jason’s family wasn’t quite that vocal during table time.  Jason also uses words that are unique.  For example, dadgumit, howdy, and y’all. This evening was one such evening and Jason had had enough once something was spilled.  He let out a doggoneitjayce!  I have learned to stifle the snicker, but apparently Jared had never heard such language.  He let out a whooping laugh followed by “dog. gone?”   He thought that was the best line of the night.  As did I. 

I’ve got a feelin’. Woo hoo.

I had forgotten how much I loved that feeling.  Craved that feeling.  The one where you can feel the finish line pulling in you faster, stronger to cross over it.  That feeling of giving everything you have, wondering how you will ever make it.  And then it hits you.  This rush, it sends tingles all through my body and forces my mouth into a smile.  This is the moment I love running for.  It’s a high, a rush, this adrenaline.  It happens again when you are approaching the finish line.  Even though you have given everything you have, somehow your mind makes up for the lacking and you propel yourself through it trying to drink it all in.  Not the crowd, or even the clock.  It’s that power.  The feeling that you pushed and worked hard enough.  You finished. 

I have always been a runner.  I have always loved it.  But you might recall last January, I ran a race my mind and body wouldn’t soon forget.  13.2 excruciating miles without proper training.  It was awful.  I hated running that day.   I wondered when that would wear off and I would hit the pavement again. Today is 7 months.  I can honestly say I hadn’t felt that tingle, that drive to run for 7 months. 

Today I felt it.  It was somewhere deep inside that I felt that urge.  To get home as fast I could, and get on the treadmill.  And I ran.  For a whopping mile, before I puked.   The assumption that a couple miles would feel great was quite short lived.  I ran one more mile and vowed to do better tomorrow.  I know I will get there.  I miss that wonderful sweaty feeling of adrenaline flowing through my veins. And I will run that half marathon again in January.  And this time I’ll be ready. 

Doooo your ears hang low….

We have had this competition conversation between children many times before.  Can you flare your nostrils?  They then proceed to flare their very best nostril flare, and can you curl your tongue? And all the little tongues get a bit crazy then ultimately it ends up with the master of all facial wiggling… who can wiggle their ears.  Oh the whole back seat tried their darndest, but  everything but the ears were doing the wiggling.  This is Lainy’s very favorite part, for she can wiggle her little ears.  And after a humble display she mentioned that when she is sad, she puts her ears down like Flapjack. 

When I grow up

Lainy was creating something important with magnetics and Jared was at her heels trying to swipe them to make his own creation.  She quickly pulled them out of reach and said, “Hey! I am going to be a scientist!”  Pause. 

“Or a cowgirl.  Or a nail polish painter.” 

She just may end up being all three!

Too much can kill you.

Some rain can be a good thing.  In fact, it’s a necessity.  But too much of a good thing?

There are times when it feels like a steady rain giving just enough discomfort to form annoyance.

It seems manageable enough, it’s just a little rain.  You grab your umbrella and continue on your way. 

It doesn’t get any heavier, that’s good.  Just a constant drizzle.  Harmless right?  No breaks, but not the worst you’ve seen.  So you keep going. 

After a while you realize it’s getting harder to move around.  Takes more effort to walk in the same constant drizzle you thought wasn’t so bad.  So you put your boots on. 

Ok, boots help.  The rain hasn’t stopped.  Or gotten worse.  So now you are wearing boots and carrying the umbrella and going about your normal business. 

Soon you notice it’s up to your knees and it’s starting to flow making your progress a bit harder against the forming current.  Still the rain isn’t coming down any harder, but not letting up either. 

So you lean forward and keep going.  You still have strength left.

The longer it rains, the higher it goes.   Your waist, then your chest, until eventually you’re up to your neck in this once seemingly bearable water. 

You realize you must now find shelter or you will drown.  Why didn’t you do it while you had the chance?   Somehow this small task of walking in the rain has become this huge burden and you didn’t even notice until you nearly drown.

Must’ve done something right

Jayce turned 8 this month and hit the water. 

Was dunked. 

Submerged. 

Got wet. 

My baby was baptized. 

I asked him later that day if he felt different at all.  He responded yes, something just feels different.   I am so proud of him for the young man he has become.  So far from the screaming kindergartener, now such an independent.  And I have the wrinkles and sprinkled grey hair to vouch for it. 

And on the other end of the big birthday-  this was the crazy group we took to Makutu’s Island for the afternoon to celebrate.  

And the burger and fries cake Jayce has been asking for, for 2 years finally made its appearance. 

It was a good day. 

Happy Birthday Sweetie!

The Effort Theory

When babies are born they seem to know when you aren’t trying hard enough to care for them.  Crying endlessly while you try and snuggle them while sitting on the couch or in the rocker.  Once you stand and walk and bounce the crying stops.  Once you begin to make the effort, they respond.  It carried on into toddlerhood.  Your 2 year old won’t play with the blocks unless you are by his or her side.  And now with my children.  

Summer has been quite long this year.  And at 115 degrees, boredom can rear it’s ugly head.  My kids are generally fantastic independents, since I work from home.  But even they can succumb to the grueling days stuck indoors.   And so the effort theory creeps into play.   Family Fun magazine saves the day on many occasion.  (Here you can find a subscription for less than $5 a year!)  But today we broke out the cookies and icing.  Viola!  Happy children.  Just needed a little effort.

Is she dancing? Is she running?

I do believe I have just rediscovered my love for running.  I have always loved running.  Earlier this year I ran a race that robbed me blind of that love.  And dare I say it disappeared for nearly 6 months. 

Until today. 

Today I found that love.  It reappeared in the form of…  dance.  I hopped up on the trusty treadmill to begin a boring couple of miles and discovered if I set the pace slow enough I could actually dance!  I am sure if I was viewed by the outside world while treadmill grooving, not a soul would label it dance.  But it sure is a lot of fun!  If you can ignore the screen telling you it’s taking you 15 minutes to run (dance) a mile, and know you are burning more than 50 calories in that time, your sweatiness will be proof enough.  Oh yes, and be sure to shut and lock the door.  As awesome as I felt, I am honest enough with myself to know that if my husband saw me… well, my attractiveness level would go down a couple of notches.

California Craziness

Raise your hand if you too have gone on a jammed packed fun memorable vacation with your camera nearby and were just too lazy to take pictures?  Me me! 

We headed to Cali a few weeks ago for my brothers wedding and figured we would make a vacation out of it.  Thanks mom for letting us crash and create mayhem in your house for a week! 

Monday – Beach.   

Tuesday – Disneyland.  Ugh.  Crazy amounts of people.  Weaving through the streets, stood in lines for hours.  There were highlights… The Dance parade and a few rides.   The kids begged to go home after a few hours.

 

This was them smiling after we agreed to cut our losses and head home early. 

Dad and Jayce on It’s a small world.  Aww. 

 

This giant marble ball was resting perfectly on a base with water so you could spin it if you really got it going. 

I want one. 

Got back to mom’s to learn Flapjack had a tapeworm. Gag.

Wednesday – Took Flap to the vet, fixed the problem.  Swam at mom and dad’s.  Relax. 

Thursday – 6 Flags Magic Mountain.  We took Jayce and went with Shannon/Ethan and cousins. 

SO FUN. 

SO CRAZY. 

So NOT what I remember. 

When did I get so old I was afraid of roller coasters? Oh I went on them, but I didn’t like it.  Ok, it was such a rush.  I closed my eyes most of the time.  Ok, all the time.  Jayce loved the crazy rides.  We might have to make this a yearly adventure for him. 

 

These two were a bit too short to ride a couple of the crazy rides so we hit jet stream 5 or 10 times and Ninja at least as many times, 4 of them without even getting off the ride in between.  Yowza. 

We got lucky with timing and got a photo shoot in with these guys. 

Friday/Saturday was the rehearsal dinner for the wedding and the rehearsal ceremony on the beach. And then of course the real deal.  Lainy was a flower girl along with her cousin Rylee.   You would think I would have taken a picture right?  Ah no.   Not even one.  Mother of the year award right here.  Pin it on me.  The girls did great walking down the isle, dropping pedals simultaneously and danced the night away at the reception.  Tami, you looked AMAZING.  Welcome to the fam!  You’re stuck with us now! Congrats you two, we love you!

Their world

Monsters, birds, aliens and cats.   You name it and I have probably had it in my house this week.   Jared has a wild imagination.  I looked down yesterday to see him nuzzling up against my leg, would not respond to ‘Hi Jar’,  no I had to scratch his neck and call him chili (our no longer cat).  Today his flapping wings made their landing around dinner time and I had to put an end to the tweet tweeting for fear my head might explode.  His voice didn’t waver as he quietly told me through the bathroom door that there was a monster in the kitchen.  Or another day that our house had been eaten by a monster with clouds inside it’s body.  I even heard about his friend, “invisible Jared 2”.  He has endless adventures climbing up the stairs of clouds, and onto the sun, or something as basic of course as a mom and dad.  Lainy tends to follow his lead and add her feminine flair.  What a world they get to live in. 

Coming through, coming through… Make way for the light!

We’ve all had them.  The days/months (sometimes years) that can only be described as black.   You might feel empty sad angry mean disappointed  frustrated hopeless uncontrolled…   They suck.  Those days seem to take you by the throat and hold you down juuust until you think you can’t breathe a second more, and yet… you do. 

We all have different strengths.  And on those black days we all dig down to cling to that strength to help pull us out of the darkness.  I’m a fighter.  I like a challenge, especially if I know that when I overcome that challenge I will come out even stronger.  I do things loudly and face to face. 

But don’t be fooled, there are those with quiet strength.  They fight without anyone even knowing. 

It is easy to let these days overtake us, direct and determine our time.  Don’t.

Marjorie Pay Hinckley said; “Be kind, everyone you meet is fighting a battle.”   And “The trick is to enjoy life.  Don’t wish away your days, waiting for better ones ahead.”   I add my amen to that.