Women's league - unflinching

Dear short dark haired girl from the opposing team,

I came home last night pretty riled up.  I talked about the game a lot with my husband.  What our strengths and weaknesses were, what could have been done differently, and how we played.  I complained about the your behavior.  I wondered when the game started down the slippery slope of anger and frustration on both teams.

I'm not a great player, I'm better than I was in high school, but I'm not a great player. I practice hard, I love the competition, and as long as my body will allow it, I will continue to push and learn how to be better.  I play because I love the game.  I think at this point in our lives, we all still love it or we wouldn't be playing.

I was raised in Southern California and we played against some incredible talent. We also played against some incredible sized women.  There was a team from Channel Islands in our division and these girls were considerably larger than we were.  But being fast was not their strength.  They could shoot and they were strong.  So, we ran them.  But because they couldn't (or weren't willing to put in the work) keep up, they injured us.  We hated those games.  We came home bruised, bloody and in pain.  We were kids, and we didn't blink at their idea of breaking rules, even at the expense of hurting someone, trying to gain a few extra points.

I am a grown woman, and last night was embarrassing.  Most people who watched were pretty shocked at your behavior.  Not because they thought you were gifted (which you are) but because you are also a grown woman who knows better than to play dirty, and cheat.  I was shocked that you did, you have the skills to play a great game without it.  I love a good, hard, fast paced game.  I love the jittery feeling in my bones when things get going, the adrenalin when our team does well, the strength I feel when the opposing team does well and we have to dig deep to get back on top.

Women have a hard enough time in this world without any of us breaking each other down.  We have the opportunity to lift each other, use our differences, our competitive nature, and our talents to build each other up.  Athletes are a unique breed, and competitiveness can also be used to break each other down, but usually this is so one can use others to step on to lift themselves. The very thing that was the cause of the crazy that took place last night- on both sides.  At 37 years old, I don't need anything else to tear me down, life does a pretty good job at that already.  We have this gift to still be playing ball and we need to look at ourselves and decide what kind of ball player we ought to be, what kind of person we ought to be, no matter which team we are on.

You have a gift.  You don't need to jersey grab, over dramatize your fouls, throw your arms up and yell, and damage others with your words in order to be great.  It's those things that are preventing you from being a great player.  I love your team mates.  I know many of them and they are great women, take a look at them as an example and decide if they have any traits you think are worth working toward.

Signed,

White Flag



***for those of you reading my blog for enjoyment purposes, yes we won.  Championship is Thursday.

Let's call this a post that got away from me.

Remember Denise Austin?

This lady was something else.  I don't remember looking at her and thinking I wanted to be like her.  I do remember thinking it was interesting that she made a living by showing people how to workout.  Today, things are no different.  The industry has been flooded with men and women with the newest programs, supplements, and diet plans.  I'm as guilty as the next guy.  I look at some of this stuff and try and mold my life around a health routine that will help me look, well, like Denise Austin.  Now, I know I am a novice at this stuff, but I still have an opinion and this is my blog so, there's that.  

As a culture, we have lost sight of our goal and purpose for our lives.  Ask any wise old person,  and they will likely tell you that the most important part of their lives has been their family and friends.  So, how does working out and diet link to our priorities?  For me I workout because it helps me feel better.  My lungs, heart, and er, digestive system work better.  These things allow me to be a very active and involved mama to my (not so little) littles.  I spent years working out in gym classes, doing crazy routines so that my body became closer and closer to what I thought was the ideal.  Problem was, I hated those classes.  I wasn't enjoying myself.  And nothing ever stuck.  No diet and no routine was something I was willing to do long term.  And my body never came close to what I envisioned when I did hit my goal weight. 

I'm not going to tell you I have yo-yo dieted and struggled with my weight my whole life.  I haven't.  I have always fallen within the bounds of what the medical world calls normal.  I do know a little about imbalance.  The imbalance of choosing whatever workout program I was using, over my children.  I still do this.  I'm not here to tell you I have mastered the balancing act that is parenting.  I haven't.  I still ditch my kids in the middle of the afternoon to go run a few miles with my friend.  

Let's jump to another common, lets call it a trap, called selfie overshare.  I am shaking my head as I begin the subject.  Social media has given platform for a community of look-at-me-ers.  This is not isolated to the workout world, but for the sake of staying on topic, lets talk about the individuals who want us to look at them.  All. The. Time.  It's annoying.  I love looking at the images of adventures people have gone on, or the momentous occasions they celebrate with their families and friends, the funny things that happened when their kids lost sanity for a second,  accomplishments, charity work, or athletic successes.  I don't love looking at pictures of you posing so that people will tell you how amazing you look.  I promise, we will still think you look amazing while we peruse your adventures.  

This poor blog post has really taken a turn toward the complaining hasn't it?  I'll finish by telling you that you can find joy in your journey to good health.  Find what you love to do in the category of exercise.  Love your dog? Walk him/her more often or for longer stretches.  Love to dance? Take a class, dance in your kitchen, or dance while you're out jogging.  I do that.  If you truly love the gym, and lifting weights, do your thing.  Play basketball, baseball, soccer, football or field hockey as a kid? Be the person who gathers people together and start playing again.  Your body is awesome, if you ask it to, it will do amazing things, none of us care if your body looks like Denise Austins, I Promise. But for the love of all that is holy, please stop posting pictures designed only to validate the way you look.  

*** for any of you who think that duck lips look ridiculous on everyone except you...  you're wrong. Just stop it.  

 

Caribbean Cruise 2017

About 6 months ago Megen Ralphs and I talked dreamily about the idea of going on a cruise together with our husbands.  She had been, we had not.  She was a world traveler, we were not.  Until we actually got there, I wasn't sure it was a reality.  Now we are home, with the memories fresh in my mind, I want to write down as much as I can so my mind, with it's net full of holes, doesn't lose all of it's beautiful gems.

Megen and Chris Ralphs, Alonna and Sheb Davies, along with Jason and I were the lucky couples who went.  We had opened it up to all of our friends.  The chemistry among the three couples was perfect.  Jason and I had a hard time nailing down a babysitter for the week since we would be unreachable once we left Puerto Rico.  My mom was going to stay with them but a few weeks before hand she hurt her back and was out of commission.  We took a chance and asked Jason's mom.  She juggled a few things around and we flew her down.  She was such a blessing!  The kids loved having her and already miss her.

We all flew out of Las Vegas, and had a 2 hour layover in Charlotte, North Carolina.  Unfortunately, our plane in LV was delayed 2 hours, so when we landed in Charlotte we had to run from one side of the airport to the other just to make our connecting flight.  We made it, and a few short hours later we were in San Juan boarding our beautiful cruise ship.  The computer system was down when we were boarding the ship, so they had to do everything by hand.  Fill out all the paperwork for customs, passport info, all by hand.  I had the thought as I watched the guy writing our names and info down on paper, that this was a tiny bit like those who came to America via Ellis Island, and how names got changed because people misspelled them on their paperwork.

We boarded the boat and hung out for a few hours getting used to the layout of the ship while the crew sorted our bags and took them to the various staterooms.  We had a small room, with a king sized bed and a window that was maybe 3ft x 3 ft, a small bathroom with a toilet and shower.  It was small, but we fit everything we needed in it, and loved it.  There were 12 floors to the ship and we were on the 5th floor, about mid ship.  It took a few days to get our sea legs, and by the time it was nearly second nature to sway with the tides, it was time to head home and I have been swaying on solid ground ever since! We met our room steward that first night, his name was Aris and he was awesome.  He took care of our room and anything we needed that week.  He made our bed, restocked towels, made us towel animals each night and turn down service.  He knew our names from day one and was always smiling.

We didn't see much of Puerto Rico the first day, but our first stop was St Thomas.  Easily the prettiest water I have ever seen.  We paid a driver far too much money to take us to the very busy and beautiful Coki Beach where we sipped on $8 Pina Coladas, I snorkeled for the first time, Though nervous, I loved it.  It was breathtaking.  The sand feels soft like baking flour in your toes, and it was nearly as white.  While relaxing in beach chairs that afternoon, I looked over to see a pair of hands start to massage Jasons shoulders... his childhood friend Caton Hansen was standing above him grinning from ear to ear.  What were the chances!! We had heard through the grapevine that they were on a different cruise ship and wondered if we would be able to touch base.  Who knew they would be on the same island at the same beach at the same time?  It was good to catch up and see he and his wife Michelle again.

There were nightly shows, games, and places to go on the ship.  We had dinner together as couples every night at 6pm, and we had the same wait staff each night, and they came to know us and our tastes.  There were different menu items each night to choose from and always one thing on the menu that was a little out there.  Escargot,  oysters, frog legs... Jason tried the frog legs and I about lost my dinner.  We went to a Battle of the Sexes game night in what they call the Palace theater.   I ended up on stage participating in a game where we did a relay race.  What I didn't know was that it was a race to put a medallion medal between your cheeks, squeeze and waddle across the stage and drop that medal into a bucket.  I was wearing a pencil skirt, needless to say, we did not win.  I did, however laugh a lot, as did everyone else.  Alonna and I hopped up on stage afterwards with a handful of others to learn the Thriller Dance.  It was pretty fun, and halfway through, much to our surprise, Jason and Sheb joined us! It felt so good to laugh and feel so carefree for a while.

That night the ship sailed through the day and night, we spent day 2 at sea and then on to day 3 in Barbados.  We took an excursion on a catamaran out to a beach where sea turtles are known to be. We didn't see many, but I saw two up very close! So close I needed to swim out of the way to avoid a collision! I couldn't believe it.  It was unreal.  I couldn't help but laugh into my snorkel mask at what I was seeing.  In water that is clearer and prettier than any blue I've ever seen, here I was swimming with these giant sea turtles.

Day 4 we ported in St Lucia.  Gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous.  We went on an excursion, on a catamaran that took us clear to the other side of the island and dropped us smack in the middle of the Pitons.  It was out of this world.  Like something you see on the movies.  There, we snorkeled along a massive reef.  We saw so many fish, plants, a barracuda,  sea snakes, a tiger fish, and so many things I don't have a name for!  Flying through the ocean on a boat manned by men with beautiful dark skin and exotic accents was certainly a new experience!  Back on the ship by 4:30 each day.  I can't be sure on the day, but I believe this was a memorable evening on the ship... we attended an evening show where a team of dancers put on a show to music by Divas of all time.  Near the beginning of the show, one of the dancers came into the audience and picked a couple to join them on stage,  Alonna and Sheb were the lucky ones picked! They went up on stage and Sheb was urged up onto the catwalk to strut his stuff.  We laughed so hard when they told him they picked him because he looked like the Wolverine, and again when they asked his name and he responded that his name was Hugh. After a few minutes on stage and a near shirt removal by Sheb, to which they loudly objected, ha! They started back to their seats... Well, Sheb did.  They wisked Alonna backstage for the remainder of the show.  What she didn't know was that they were sending her back to wardrobe and make up to transform her into the highlight of the show, The Diva.  Near the end of the show they brought her out, put her up on a huge platform, and a nervous and shocked Alonna was wide eyed for a split second until she fell into perfect character and danced her way down the catwalk.  The rest of the cruise she was a celebrity, and known as the Diva.

Day 5 was St Kitts.  Easily my favorite island.  It was the one place I knew what excursion I wanted to experience.  The Fortress. We decided to sleep in, get our own taxi and spend the time at the fortress as we pleased.  We lucked out and landed the best driver in all of the Caribbean. Kevin was a local, handsome, charismatic, and generous with his time.  He took us on a scenic tour through his island, telling us all of the things he loved about his home.  He was open and talkative about any questions we had.  He stopped along the dirt road to show us the monkeys playing in the trees, explained that the white birds all over the trees filled with thorns were egrets, and that they flew in with a storm in the 80's and never left.  They perched in those trees because rats and other predators couldn't get to them because of the thorns.  And though he wasn't religious, he knew were and drove us through town to see the LDS church.  He took us through the dense rain forests, gave us time to drink them in and loved to tell us all about the buildings history, we bought real sugar cane to chew on, it was fibrous,  watery, and tasted like sugar.  He skillfully maneuvered the streets of St Kitts with ease and a little finesse, reminding all of us that driving these streets ourselves would not be doable. The fortress did not disappoint.  He told us he knew we were smart when he heard we wanted to see the fortress which wasn't usually the choice of tourists.  It was a beautiful experience.  I felt a connection with the idea of the visit, and again felt the connection as we stood on the stone that made up the fort.  It was an incredible day.  So thankful for Kevin and his generosity and making St Kitts a beautiful experience.   Back on the ship and later that night I wanted to try karaoke... after an hour of trying to pick a song,  exasperated and quickly losing my nerve, I picked a song and Alonna and went up.  It was a disaster. We laughed ourselves off stage and did not try again.  

Day 6 was St Maarten.  Alonna and Sheb were gifted a snorkeling excursion for two from a woman who won it and wasn't interested in going.  Chris and Megen purchased another ticket for Jason to go as a birthday gift, and the boys spent the day snorkeling, while we three girls spent the day sipping Pina Coladas under umbrellas, and periodically shooing away the local women selling their wares, some aggressively and frustratingly so.  Alonna spent time rolling around in the sand and sea, a quality I find endearing in my adventurous friend.  We picked sea shells, and buried our toes in the sand as we enjoyed the waves rolling over our now tanned ankles.  After a few hours in our rented lounge chairs and umbrellas, we wandered farther down the beach to escape the less than talented karaoke singer behind us at the storefront.  Think scuttle in Little mermaid... but worse.   That night we went to what ended up being my favorite show, the Newlywed game.  None of us ended up on stage, thankfully, but enjoyed every minute.  We laughed so hard we cried at points, my cheeks and stomach hurt from laughing so much.  I loved it.

Day 7 we were back in San Juan and spent the day shopping and seeing the town.  Then back to the airport for a day in the air, on our way home to our people who we missed so much.

There were so many things that I want to remember, but know will eventually slip into the back of my mind where lovely memories go until we can revisit them again with fond remembrance.  We enjoyed the 80's party on the deck late into the night, nightly trips to the 24 hour pizza counter and soft serve ice cream, singers, jugglers, magicians, dancers, bingo, delicious, sometimes exotic food and desserts (yes plural!).  Meeting the people of the islands was life changing for me.  It broadened my view of my little world I sometimes tend to live in.  These people reminded me that finding joy is a choice.  And I am grateful for the lesson.  Also grateful for the deepened friendships I have with Alonna and Meg, and the experiences we shared.

What a gift this week was for Jason and I to be able to spend so much time together without the stresses of our normal day to day lives.  We knew the kids were being cared for, our cell phones didn't work once we set sail, and we connected like we hadn't in years.  I found my friend again.  It was so good for our hearts to have that  time together.

I hope this is the beginning of Jason and I becoming world travelers, so here's to new adventures!

The Game

I chose to take in some caffeine at 6:30pm today before my basketball game, it is now 11:30pm and I am quite without sleep.  It was the first game of the women's rec season.  We are all in our 30's and we were a bundle of nerves as if we were back in high school waiting to play against our rival.  I love competition.  I love the adrenaline that drives past the nerves.  I was told once when I was young that if you were nervous about something, it meant that whatever it was, was important to you.  I love the game.  I have played since the 7th grade. That's about 25 years.  Let's be real.  I am an average height, average weight, average build, white girl.  I wasn't very good in high school, and I'm not great now.  But I love so much that even at age 37, I can improve my skills, and that my body holds up through it.

It was a close game throughout.  They were good ball players.  But so are we.  Referees pretty much left us alone.  There were a few good hits on both sides.  There were moments of frustration and tension.  It was a game of tug of war as each team tried to focus on their opponents weakness.  For moments, these women became the enemy.  And the lines of kindness, sportsmanship, and admiration for physical ability... are blurred.  Female basketball players are not usually of the gentle mentality. They are driven, competitive, strong, and confident.  I love these qualities in myself and in my teammates.  These are also qualities that if left unchecked, can become a stumbling block to friendship and to personal growth.  So, while there were a few good hits, some purposeful fouling, likely blood, sweat, and hopefully no tears, I am proud to be part of a team who also, helps the opposition up, apologizes when a foul is too hard, and holds their tongue when frustration bubbles toward the surface.  These are the traits that make a woman great.  And the women I play with are great.

Yes, we won.  46-41

Life's game of Hide and Seek

Life has a way of moving on whether we are ready or not.  It's kind of like the hide and seek game we used to play when we were kids.  Once someone started counting you felt the need to turn and run, the counting always seemed to go too fast, and before we knew it, we were being sought for.  So it has been for the last month, since Janna passed.  Life seems to always be counting, seeking and trying to come for us.  So, we must run.  Check off our lists, follow our schedules, live our lives, find our way.  I can hardly believe a month has passed.  It was a few weeks after the funeral before my brain slowed down enough to let my heart catch up and remind my body that it was still housing a broken heart.  Sunday was tough.  Everything reminded me of her.  Every song, everywhere I looked, each activity.  I am at odds with the idea that it is healthy to mourn, and that moving forward in life is exactly what we should do.  It seems like a betrayal. Sadness was the opposite of what Janna wanted for us.  Somehow, I think she understands our grief.  And so, I have begun to look forward, move forward, and live in gratitude for each day, and the the time I had with her.  

Until we meet again

     My sweet friend Janna finished her mortal journey on January 19th, 2017.  The months and weeks leading up to her passing were heart wrenching as we watched her body fight against her heart.  She spoke often of her desire to leave this life and move forward.  I was blessed with the opportunity to be there when she and James told their children a week before she passed, that their mom wasn't going to get better, and that it was only a short matter of time before she would die.  I knew then that she was prepared to say good bye.  It was through a mistaken text that I was able to say a last goodbye to her.  I had texted James and asked if Janna was planning to go to California and not come home, so her children didn't have to endure that pain.  He didn't respond for several hours, so I texted again and asked that if that was her plan, then could I please come say goodbye? He never read the first text, but responded to the second, "we are leaving in 30 minutes. Come now." It was the most emotional drive across town I had had up to that point, all the while thinking this was the last time I would get to see her in this life. I sat in front of her frail, thin body, took her hand and told her I thought her plan was dumb, and that I didn't like it.  She looked at me like I was crazy.  What's my plan? She asked. James, I said.  Did you read the whole text? No, he hadn't.  It wasn't her plan, she intended to come home. So, I drove them to pick up their rental car, she hugged me tight, we said I love you, and she said please take care of my kids. A few short days later she was gone,  she and James were on their way home, hand in hand, from her last trip to her favorite place, Disneyland.

     Her mom asked that I help prepare Janna by helping get her dressed, style her hair, and put on her make up.  It was a sacred experience.  Her mom, her sister Kaycee, sister in law Jennifer and I were there for 3 hours.  We spent the first half of the time getting her ready, and the last hour and a half talking, laughing, and remembering.  We forgot her underwear and as we were trying to decide if we should just have her go commando under her yoga pants, I could almost hear Janna's voice warning us not to.  I turned to the mortician and asked him to find the largest pair of granny panties he could find.  That should suffice in a small amount of revenge for her requesting that I speak at her funeral. He granted the request.  

    Her viewing was the largest the man working at the funeral home had ever seen.  It was beautiful to see so many who loved her come to pay their respects and say good bye.  The morning of her funeral was a hard one.  We were honored to be asked to be there with the family during the family prayer meeting where we could say our last goodbye before the casket was closed.  That moment was more difficult than I imagined.  Watching her mother mourn over her was heartbreaking.  We walked solemnly into the chapel, I barely got out a whisper to Jason that I wasn't going to be able to do this.  My emotions were raw, my heart was broken, my soul wracked.  

     The service was beautiful. Her brother Shad gave an emotional and heartfelt Eulogy, after which I did pull myself together enough to deliver my talk.  The spirit was present and I was given the gift of peace and organized thought.  Several of her friends sang beautifully, and her uncle tied it all together with a powerful and spiritual talk.  My talk is below:

What a gift I have been given to spend a week thinking about our sweet Janna, her life and the impact she made on each of us.  My time with Janna was a much shorter duration than a lot of you who had the opportunity to know and love her for most of her life.  She and I knew from the start that there were bigger powers at work in bringing us together.  It has been a beautiful privilege to know and love her and call her my friend. 

I met Janna when she interviewed me for a job at the clinic. I knew the moment I met her that she was something special.  If you would have told me then, that 2 years later I would have to say good bye to my now dear friend, and speak at her funeral, I would have called you crazy, but I would do it all again in a heartbeat.  She changed me.  She changed us. 

Janna wore many hats in her life.  She preferred her hats to be colorful, fashionable, and crafted by her own hands.  She starred in the role of daughter, sister, aunt, friend, mother and devoted wife.

-Janna’s work hat was the first I witnessed.  She was loved by her co workers, if you can call them that, they were her friends, and she loved them dearly.  It was a blessing to work behind a glass window due to the rowdiness that took place so often.

-I was blessed to call her my friend, and that is a hat she helped me become better at wearing. She welcomed me into her life and family easily and completely. 

-I witnessed Janna’s wife hat shortly after that, and she wore it well. Janna loved James with her whole heart. Those two were quite a pair. In the last few months especially, I caught them gazing at each other and I couldn’t help but feel like I was intruding.  It seems appropriate that they were together when she took her last breath.

-If anyone wore a mother’s hat well, it was our Janna.  She became exactly the mother she intended to be. A Hands on, dance in the kitchen, laugh until it hurts, kiss a scraped knee, hike ‘til you drop, sing at the top of your lungs kind of mom.  She loved her children fiercely, and I have no doubt she is mothering her happy heart out from the other side.

-She adored both her mom and dad, and each of her siblings.  She spoke of each of them with so much love that when I met them I could see them through her eyes.

-The last hat Janna wore was a heavy one.  It was one of a physical and emotional trial.  She bore it with grace and dignity, with endurance, strength, and humility. 

I read through the memories many of you posted on her Facebook page and nearly every one of them mentioned her ability to bring joy into your lives.  She lifted, strengthened, brightened, softened, and loved each of us.  Her capacity to bring sunshine to any space was remarkable. Several months ago I began to write a letter to her.  I couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t find the words.  Last week I tried again.  The words would not come.  So today I would like to share my letter to our sweet Janna with you.   

Dear Janna,

How’s heaven?  Please tell me there’s Coke there.  I guess there would have to be if it’s heaven.  How is your Grandpa?  Did he miss you for those few days you had apart?  Lucky guy. Behave yourselves enough to not get kicked out, but create enough mischief to shake things up and keep people on their toes.  I miss you so much friend.  We all are trying to find our footing in a world without you in it.   You are quite possibly the most loved lady in the world.  I wish you had a chance to read all the amazing things your friends and family wrote about you before you ditched us.  There is some good stuff in there.  I loved reading about the silliness you were involved in, the chaos you helped create, the joy you spread, and the hearts you touched. 

In my 37 years on this earth I haven’t met anyone quite like you.  You made me a better person.  Your optimism shaped my mothering, your kindness softened my edges, your humor eased my grouchy days.  You taught me that even when you’re suffering yourself, that helping others is always the answer.  From you I learned that there is no such thing as having too much spray paint, that Coke and coconut can fix a lot, and crafting makes the world a better place.  You showed me by example that it’s ok to let your kids figure things out, and to be there when they need you.  Sharing a few Pinterest boards with you reminded me that it is less about what we are making, than the memories we are making.  Hey, by the way, thanks for leaving a whole shed full of miscellaneous craft supplies out back to sort out.  That will be a fun one to go through. 

I know the last 15 months were not all sunshine and rainbows, but Jan you handled it with grace, optimism and a splash of stubbornness when necessary.  There were a lot of days with disappointing news.  I watched you take those days by the reins, bow your head, grieve, pray, lift your head and continue forward with determination.   

I am grateful that you are happy again, that your body is no longer a prison, and that you are with your loved ones who have gone before you.  I miss you like crazy, save a spot for me and I will see you before you know it. 

Love, Jul

I know Janna wants many things for us whom she left behind.  She would want us to take our lives by the reins, bow our heads and take the time to grieve, pray, and then lift our heads and continue forward with determination.  So, don’t worry about the extra calories when you drink a Coke, or eat dessert, take the time to sit in that hot tub, jump on the bed with your kids, don’t sweat the small stuff, get outdoors with your families, think of Janna when you’re at Disneyland, and live your life to the fullest with those you love.  We ought to remember to put on our positive pants as Janna used to say and get living.  She would want you to. 

I know that Janna is safe in the arms of our Father in Heaven.  I am grateful for a Savior who knew the journey Janna would be on was tough, but He was with her every step of the way. It seems a long way off before we will see her again, but I know we will see her again.  She will be there with that giant smile, and open arms.  Love you Jan. 

Butterfly on the slopes

      Four days post Christmas crazy and I dropped off Jayce and his friend Logan for the day to Brianhead ski resort.  It's a short 30 minute drive so I headed home once they were settled so I could get things under control here. (See previous post christmas statement)  It was about 2 hours after I was home that I got a call from Jayce.  His bindings broke.  He was upset.  And would I please come up there and get them to come home?  He couldn't hear me very well, so I texted.  Dig deep buddy, you have a friend who can still enjoy the slopes.  Take a minute to yourself to pull your emotions together and reassess the situation.  Nothing.  He didn't text back.  An hour later, I texted again.  Hows it going?  Still sitting there, he said.  I suggested a few trouble shooters, but got nothing in reply.  

    As I bumble around my house getting things checked off my list, I realize there is a lump in my chest.  I check my phone every few minutes.  My rescuing bells are going off like crazy.  I should go up there early and sit with him.  I should call and pay over the phone for someone to fix his board.  I should rent a new board for him... I should...  What I should do is sit here and let him figure it out.  He's not in danger.  He's not hurt.   So here I sit.  Getting my restless energy out in words.  Hoping that the lesson presented to Jayce is taken and grown from, to be used as a positive reference in his future.   

   I am a rescuer by nature. As a mother this quality has its drawbacks.  It's hard for me to allow my children to have natural consequences.  I want to buffer, interfere, "show" them how things are done so they don't mess up.  I remind myself often of the process a caterpillar must endure in its journey to become a butterfly.   

Once a little boy was playing outdoors and found a fascinating caterpillar. He carefully picked it up and took it home to show his mother. He asked his mother if he could keep it, and she said he could if he would take good care of it.

The little boy got a large jar from his mother and put plants to eat, and a stick to climb on, in the jar. Every day he watched the caterpillar and brought it new plants to eat.

One day the caterpillar climbed up the stick and started acting strangely. The boy worriedly called his mother who came and understood that the caterpillar was creating a cocoon. The mother explained to the boy how the caterpillar was going to go through a metamorphosis and become a butterfly.

The little boy was thrilled to hear about the changes his caterpillar would go through. He watched every day, waiting for the butterfly to emerge. One day it happened, a small hole appeared in the cocoon and the butterfly started to struggle to come out.

At first the boy was excited, but soon he became concerned. The butterfly was struggling so hard to get out! It looked like it couldn’t break free! It looked desperate! It looked like it was making no progress!

The boy was so concerned he decided to help. He ran to get scissors, and then walked back (because he had learned not to run with scissors…). He snipped the cocoon to make the hole bigger and the butterfly quickly emerged!

As the butterfly came out the boy was surprised. It had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings. He continued to watch the butterfly expecting that, at any moment, the wings would dry out, enlarge and expand to support the swollen body. He knew that in time the body would shrink and the butterfly’s wings would expand.

            But neither happened!

The butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings.

It never was able to fly…

As the boy tried to figure out what had gone wrong his mother took him to talk to a scientist from a local college. He learned that the butterfly was SUPPOSED to struggle. In fact, the butterfly’s struggle to push its way through the tiny opening of the cocoon pushes the fluid out of its body and into its wings. Without the struggle, the butterfly would never, ever fly. The boy’s good intentions hurt the butterfly.

    This may not be a life altering experience for Jayce.  But I hope it will be one he uses to build on to become self reliant, a supportive friend, and someone who learns to deal with life's speed bumps with grace.  So today I sit, watching the little butterfly struggle within the cocoon.  

    Thankfully, even if our 'cocoon' is snipped in our lives and we come out with a swollen body and shriveled wings,  we have the opportunity to get back in that cocoon, and become through Christ, everything He wants us to be.   

Ragnar Las Vegas 2016

Hard to believe that I just ran my 4th Ragnar in one year.  Hard to believe for anyone else except me, because I did it, and it was hard.  It all started with Las Vegas November of 2015.  Our Mother Runner group was kind of a baby in terms of teams.  We ran Las Vegas, then Zion, UT trail run in May 2016 (which wasn't technically mother runners because we brought our husbands and there were only 4 couples), Wasatch Back, UT in June 2016, and rounding it out again with Las Vegas last weekend.

After running several races with these ladies, I feel a tremendous amount of gratitude to my Father in Heaven for blessing me with their friendship.  Each woman has a set of gifts unique to her, that plays the role of a blessing in each of our lives.  As we have trained, run, and a whole heck of a lot of lunch dates in between- we have woven the threads of friendship into a tight knit canvas that we each love and treasure dearly.

Each race was a very different experience.  Our first Ragnar was scary, new, and filled with determination and laughter at every single turn.  We cried with tears of admiration and pride as we watched our friends end a particularly difficult run, coming in with the last ounce of energy they had, and collapsing into her teammates arms.  We laughed often and freely, sometimes so much it physically hurt.  Those moments were usually in the late hours of the day, with feelings of complete exhaustion, and sleep deprivation.  Women do wacky things when they are without their mothering duties for an extended period of time... they slip back into younger habits, and live a little lot more freely.  Voices get louder, more colorful, guards are let down.

Running Zion with my husband was not the kind of experience I expected.  I should have known better.  One of my favorite quotes "All frustration is a result of unmet expectation" applies here.  The race was hard.  And Jason, bless him for all his wonderful qualities, but he makes a terrible cheerleader.  And cheerleading is exactly what I need and want while I'm running.  Someone to tell me to push harder even when I think I have hit my limits.  Someone to yell and scream and jump up and down when I push through and come around that corner sweaty and covered in dirt because I fell. (yes, I did.)  And that course... became my nemesis.  I won't be running it again.

Wasatch Back, UT.  This one was tricky.  I ran over 19 miles total.  And it was rough.  Not awful, but rough.  The van carrying the other half of our team was not holding aces.  It was pretty awful.  They ran in the heat of the day twice and it was unusually hot for that time of year. Their legs assignments were hard, with a significant number of them uphill.  Several of our runners barely made it.  But they MADE it.  If you ask any of that van, they will tell you absolutely no, not interested in going through that again.  It was by far one of the most beautiful stretches of country I have ever seen. I would consider doing it again...

Last weekend.  I struggled.  I whined. I complained. I even cried a little. But I ran the heck out of that race.  I prepared for the hills, I raced faster than I did training, I got lost once, but I made it.  My team lifted me.  They took my bellyaching and lifted me anyway.  I didn't deserve it, but they loved me enough to look past my weaknesses and lift. me. up.  And I love them for it.

They are beautiful, kind, hilarious, sassy, inappropriate, flawed, tough, resilient, loud, unwavering, and they are MY Mother Runners.  Every. Last. One of them.

I love my Mother Runners.

Not so little littles

In 14 years of parenting I have been told that children grow up way too fast.  I had moments when I could relate.  The first day of school, or watching one of them sleep after a particularly tough day, celebrating each birthday, they were fleeting moments.  I felt and acknowledged them, but then I moved forward.  This time the fleeting has lingered.  It's heavier.  It's harder.  Jayce is 14 and his life, his body, his emotions, and his mind have changed dramatically in a matter of months.  I love the young man he has become and I love the age and continue to love each stage he begins.  But I am most certainly in mourning.  I miss his little hands, his little kissable lips, his little boy messiness, I miss his need for his mama.  Jayce was an especially difficult child.  His temper was fierce and fiery.  He was small and freckle faced.  Now i hear him talk and I sometimes forget to listen to what he is saying because I am distracted by the depth in his vocal chords.  His freckles are still there, but softened.  Conversations are more complex.  His humor more timely but still a bit awry.  I felt all of this creeping in as summer came to a close, knowing that as he started high school his life would change.  Today he held a girls hand for the first time.  I watched carefully the emotions crawl across his grinning face as he realized I knew.  We talked.  He shared.  The level of communication between Jayce and I is what every mother hopes for.  He tells me his heart.  He shares with me his sadness, and concerns.  We have built a trusting relationship.  I am so grateful, but I am so very sad.  He grew up too fast.  So fast.

When Life Gets Hard

I knew I should have written it all down that night.  The night after. But here it is weeks later and I am forcing myself to write and all I have are my notes.  Dear future self, listen to this conference by these great speakers on whatever platform is available, it's amazing.

Janna and I and a smattering of her family and friends went to Richfield to listen to a conference by Jon Bytheway, Meg Johnson, and our family favorite, Hank Smith.  The conference subject matter was "When life gets hard".  I wasn't sure going in how it would play out.  Would they talk about crazy hard things in life and we would all leave feeling grateful for the trials we had been struggling with?  Would they address something specific I was going through and I would leave feeling empowered?  Was it just going to be a pep talk to keep on truckin'?  Turns out these guys have done this before.  And it was incredible.  We walked out of that room laughing, lighter, and yes empowered to keep moving forward when life got hard.  It was exactly what I needed.  And I am pretty sure it was exactly what Janna needed.

Jan and I spent about 3 hours talking on the drive up and back.  We haven't had that much talk time in a long time.  Things got real.  She has the neatest outlook on her life.  She knows her life will be shortened.  But giving up and giving in are not part of her plan.  She knows it won't help anything to dwell on the can nots, so she focuses on the cans.  She posted a quote that said, "True strength is not giving up even when everyone would understand if you did."  This is her mantra.  She knows what she is doing is hard, it's devastating and scary.  But she's fighting every step of the way.  I am changed because she chooses joy.

My tiny person

I have been gone most of today, so when I pulled into the garage tonight and spent a few moments in the car gathering my thoughts, I could have very well let my impatience get the better of me when Jared popped his face up next to the car window and enthusiastically pointed to his shared journal.  Each of my children has a small journal that is a space where they can write to Jason or I, and we can do the same to them.

It has been a while since I have seen one.  Jared has always struggled with reading and writing.  So, to see three pages filled with words, charts, and drawings meant he had spent a significant amount of time on it.  I won't share what he wrote publicly, but they were words of love spoken from a boy to his mama.

My sweet Jared turned 10 this month and I had a hard time with it.  It's been a big year of birthdays this year. Jayce turned 14 attending youth conference, EFY and then started high school.  Lainy will turn 12 in two short months, move up to young womens, and started middle school. And Jared, no longer a single digit kid, and having an opinion on his clothing and hair.  All of this also means I am getting older.  And that's ok with me.

The temple walk

Today was full.  I spent the morning with Janna's little person, played basketball, and then took her to dance class.  Due to her refusal to dance alone, I spent a half an hour warming up and practicing a recital dance with a roomful of 3 and 4 year olds.  It was a reminder that I am never too old to dance like a ballerina, and that my flexibility levels are at an all time low.

Spent lunch time with a group of the most amazing women to celebrate a birthday, went grocery shopping, picked up kids from school, took Lainy to and from volleyball, and finally walked 5 miles with our young women, from the church building to the Cedar City LDS Temple, currently under construction.

We walked along the busy main street, the weather was perfect, and the girls were in good spirits.  Each mile marker there was a loving leader, to share with us both physical and spiritual sustenance, preparing us for our journey forward toward the temple.  It took 2 hours, but I didn't hear one word of complaint, instead I heard laughter, encouragement, and even a challenge to see how many times the girls could get passersby to wave back. It was a lot.  I heard one person ask why we chose the route along the busy street.  For safety reasons we chose that path with a sidewalk for the majority of the time.  But it made me think about our journey to the temple on a spiritual level.  These girls will have to travel along side the world.  They will have to steer clear of the noise and traffic of it.  It is loud and fast, but there is a clear pathway to the temple if you stay on track.  We had several girls meet us on the trail due to time constraints, and I realized that we do pick up people and bring them with us along the way.  That it doesn't matter at what point on the journey they join us, we were just happy they came.  At the very end there was a stretch of road just before you get to the temple that goes up a very steep hill.  It reminded me that our journey is long, and our journey is hard. And we have to push forward even until the very end to receive these beautiful blessings of the temple, and of eternity.  But it was worth it.  It is worth it.   I am so grateful I was able to experience tonight with Lainy.  She loved it.  I loved it.  Tonight was one of those stepping stones that prepares each of us to enter the Holy Temple of God.

Listening to an Apostle of the Lord

Jayce and I had the opportunity to listen to Elder Ballard speak this weekend at the Centrum at SUU. Honestly, I was looking for ways to get out of it, I wanted to spend more time with Jason since he only has about 36 hours home each weekend.  I knew it was a pretty important and uncommon occurrence, and yet I was not anxiously awaiting it.  A few of my laurels wanted to ride together, so we went.  What a blessing of an evening.

I have been working on recognizing the spirit in my life, what is emotion and what is the Spirit.  I was captivated.  I have a hard time sitting still for long periods of time in a confined space, but this. This was different.  I knew without the emotion attached, that the spirit was strong in that giant room.

I didn't take notes, I didn't check and recheck my phone, I didn't giggle with the girls by my side.  I listened.  It wasn't until Elder Ballard was recapping that I realized I had never taken my notebook out of my bag.  It didn't matter, that night it was about the moment, and there were answers that I didn't even realize I had been searching for, answered.

This boy.  If ever a child's life was represented by a roller coaster, it's this kid.  And it's one of those rides that has triple loops, crazy climbs and death defying drops.  But man is he fun, full of excitement and you just want to get on that ride with him.  He turned 14 this summer, grew about 3 inches in a matter of months, and sometimes I have to double check that there is isn't an intruder in my house due to his lowered voice.  This summer has been one for the record books in so many ways, but I think the most important growth has happened in the last few weeks.

Jayce was able to attend Especially for Youth (EFY) at the BYU Provo campus for a week.  I was a little worried.  The first day he called and said he was ready to come home.  By by day 2, I had to fight for time to talk with him.  He was so busy learning to love 20 other people, and building his relationship with his Savior that I only got snippets of time to chat with him.  When I picked he and his friend Logan up after 6 days, both got solemnly into the car, each ones eyes brimming with tears. The emotion was tangible.  These boys knew that they had experienced something that wasn't going to be replicated in the real world.  They were leaving behind people they connected with on a level you rarely enjoy in your day to day lives.  It was a solid 20 minutes before either of them felt in control enough to speak much.  As the time passed they began to unravel the weeks events, remembering, reliving the adventure.  I learned about each of these youth who touched my sons life for the better. Each with a story and specific traits Jayce loved.  Jayce talked of the example of a boy his own age and how he wanted to learn to live with the joy and gratitude that he showed. Girls that showed respect, both for others and for themselves. A testimony meeting filled with the Spirit. Jayce said they sang with angels that day.  That he loved his Savior, so very much.  He told me how grateful he was to know that Jesus Christ knows our pain and our suffering so He can comfort us.

I never could have hoped for the growth I saw in my son that day.  Even days later he reminds me how grateful he is for the growth in his testimony.  He shares things he learned from the incredible teachers, counselors and friends at EFY, with our family during scripture study and family home evening.  I can't say enough about this program.  His confidence, testimony, knowledge, and his heart have grown, and I love it.  And I love this roller coaster boy.

Went up to my favorite spot this morning with my favorite running partner for an 8 mile run.  It's a 2000 ft elevation descent and the views are breathtaking.  Downhill running is the closest I imagine I can get to flying while still on the ground.  There are moments where I come around a corner and I am overwhelmed by the beauty and I love the fast pace of a downhill run.

About a mile in I realized I wasn't properly fueled.  It had been a busy morning and I forgot breakfast.  And it was getting warm pretty fast.  Instead of experiencing my favorite run, I had to use all my physical and mental reserves just to get down the hill.  My music wasn't cutting it for inspiration, and walking wasn't an option.  Then I thought about this week...

I was afforded the opportunity to go to youth conference up at Heber Valley with our stake youth group this week for a few days. It was Jayce's first youth conference.  I loved it.  Our theme was feasting on the words of Christ. It's the church's annual theme this year.  2 Nephi 31:20

"Wherefore, ye must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and all men. Wherefore if ye shall press forward, feasting upon the words of Christ, and endure to the end, behold, thus saith the Father, ye shall have eternal life."

We've recited it each Sunday in Young Women's.  I've heard it my whole life.  But those who taught us and allowed us to feast upon the words of Christ while there, changed my perspective.  It reminded me that scripture study and hearing the words of the prophets and apostles are necessary for our daily "runs".  There are often days when, like the run I had today I have to just get through the day.  But starting the day feasting on the scriptures and feeding my spirit will help me enjoy more moments and build upon the testimony I have.

About 4 miles in I was desperate, turned off my music and quickly found a conference talk to put in my ears as a distraction.  Though I didn't listen to the prophet the rest of the way down, it certainly gave me the boost I needed to keep going.  I am often reminded when I am running that my physical body is not the only part of me that is needed and used. My mind and spirit are just as important to nourish in order to experience a great run.

Janna background

I first met Janna when she interviewed me for the job at the OBGYN office.  I remember thinking she was just about the most bubbly and sunshiny person I'd ever met.  After I got the job, I remember thinking that both joy and misery were contagious.  She made that office joyful.  And we caught it.  It was about 9 months later that she had the mass in her stomach checked and found the cancer.  A baby friendship really.  But 9 months is all you need to grow a human, and it was certainly enough time to solidify a deep rooted friendship.  It's been about 7 months since she was diagnosed. A lot has happened.  Surgery, chemo, triumphs and sorrow.  She is still as joyful as the day I met her.  I have come to know and love her family.  Her children are here sometimes and I can see the influence of the their mother in the squeals and shrieks of happiness.  We moved to Cedar on a whim.  There was no concrete reason to move here.  No family, no friends, and no job.  Over the last nearly two years I have developed friendships that have changed me, opportunities that scare me, and a love for this town I now call my home.  Janna is a huge anchor for me here.  I know she is one of the reasons we were led here.  Not because she needed me,  she would be just as successful in her journey without me.  But because the Lord knew we needed each other.   She and I have often acknowledged the feeling that we are only carrying on a friendship developed long before this earth life.  I believe it too.

Shaved

It's been about 6 weeks since Janna found out that the chemo she's been using to battle her cancer wasn't working as they expected.  It seemed as though this was nearly as big a blow to her as the initial diagnosis.  This time, with the new chemo, she'd be losing her hair.  From the beginning I was on board with shaving my head in support of her.  And I'll admit, I was slightly relieved when I found out that the chemo they were using wasn't going to cause her to lose her hair.  Now, 6+ months later, a new chemo and she was facing yet another reality of cancers harsh impacts.  So, she got to work planning her head shaving party.  Yup, she put her joyful Janna spin on a crappy situation.  The invitation extended across social media and throughout her closest friends and family.  Dozens came to shave heads in support of her.  Men going bald, and women shaving the back of the hair.   It was quite a sight.  It was raining and cold, they put up canopies and smiles were in abundance.  Jan and I went first.  James shaved hers, while Jason shaved mine.  I wondered how my emotions would fare, but we just giggled and laughed through the process.

The week following, Janna struggled.  I imagine the realities of cancer hit hard each time she looked in the mirror.  I know it affected me deeply.  I was a wreck leading up to that day, and the following week.  It didn't take long for her to pull herself up and out of the shadows of sadness and thank her Heavenly Father for the time she has been given.  She said, "I realized, if I had to give up my hair to spend more time with my family, I would gladly do it".

It's been a unique experience for me.  I'm not ill, I'm not fighting for my life.  But I have no hair.  I'm a pretty confident person, but walking into church, school, stores without hair for the first week or so was intimidating. It was akin to walking into those places naked.  The response of strangers was neat.  Some glanced so quickly as to not stare, some responded with warm and sympathetic looks, I even had one kid point and loudly say, " haha! Mom! That lady is bald! hahahaha! She has no hair!"

The very next day after we shaved our heads was Sunday.  Church.  I was fine all the way into the building. Until I had to walk through the chapel.  I stopped.  Physically frozen realizing the people in there would respond.  Until very clearly the thought came to me, I am uncomfortable.  That's the maximum.  This wasn't hard.  This wasn't up there with any of the hard things I have done in my life. I was merely uncomfortable.  And the thought that followed was, this place is safe.  These people love me.  Support me.  And they did.  And they do.  I am grateful. And I kind of love not having hair.

Balboa Island

The stars aligned for a second year in a row and a trip to Balboa Island with 10 of my nearest and dearest was accomplished.  There are a lot of things that have come together in a perfect storm for a trip like this to happen.  Eleven moms and fourty-four children.   Schedules, emotions, husbands, and babysitters were juggled.  It was worth it.  The weather was ideal, the beach was beautiful, the food delicious and the location perfect.  Our weekend was filled with shopping, beach bumming, food indulgence, jogging along the water, laughter, and late nights.  I loved it all.  More than all of that, I loved the change I felt in the relationships I have with these women.  Conversations about deep emotions, fears, joys, trials, and triumphs.  We grew together in our moments of laughter so intense we nearly fell over, we grew in our moments of near insanity while staying up way too late, we even grew in our moments of hurt and forgiveness when apologies were needed.  I see these women differently than I did before we embarked this weekend.  I love them.  I appreciate them. I am grateful for them.

I have been blessed in my life.  I've said it before and I will repeat it.  I have a Father in Heaven who has given me the gift of friendship everywhere I go.  I love those friends from my past and present.  I am grateful for you.  There was a concern discussed on several occasions this weekend.  It was a discussion stemmed from love of those who feel left out.  It's a common thread that weaves through communities with so many wonderful families.  We discussed our first impressions we felt about each other and how time has a way of sorting out our misunderstandings and the fears we have about personality differences.  We talked of things we have said to each other that may have been hurtful and that forgiveness never has an expiration.  Not one of of the ladies, including myself, I spent the last 4 days with, is perfect.  Each of us has strengths and weaknesses, things to work on and things to teach.  These women teach me that imperfections are not a reason to avoid friendship.  So reach out and be willing to accept some imperfection.  I promise the joys far out weigh the flaws.

Stupid Gap.

Each time I thought about how I wanted my kids to have this awesome history to read, I thought "I should write this or that down soon." Soon turned into a year and a half.  Now there's a stupid gap.  A gap that so many wonderful memories could have filled.  Tonight as I sat at a baby and bridal mash up shower, and was asked to write down some advice for the bride and advice for the mama to be, I found myself sharing with her that writing down a history of your childs life well past their 5th birthday is IMPORTANT.

Today, 11 year old Lainy went to the movies alone with some of her friends who are already in Jr High.  I was in such a flurry putting the finishing touches on a dessert for the shower that I couldn't even mourn the moment.  It was a passing panic moment that I watched fly out the door with her.  She's growing at a pace my heart isn't ready for.

Jared spent the afternoon at Gabe's house.  A boy who has some social issues.  A boy who when I called his parents to send Jared home, said how grateful they were that Jared has been coming to play because Gabe has never had a friend come over and play.  I asked Jared how it has been going and he said, he liked going over there.  He knows Gabe doesn't have friends and wants to be his friend.  When did he learn that?  When did his soft heart expand to a circle larger than our family?  Pin pointing when those those qualities we spend our whole lives teaching take hold is a blurry moment.

Jayce spent the day with a newish friend.  I have prayed for months that he be led to a good friend.  A great friend. Someone who will make the good choices I know in his heart he wants to make along side him.  Someone who needs a good friend as much as he does.  As much as his mom does.

Today I write to deny a gap.  To remind myself of my blessings.  Of which I have many.

Lainybug turns 10

My Lainy and her crazy emotions.  At 10, she's trying to wrangle the ups and downs that wrestle inside her little body.  She hasn't asked to put holes in her ears yet, but leg shaving is a requirement as of today.  My little bare legged beauty is growing up.  Her body was built to be an athlete (for which I was thrilled!) and maybe that is in her future, but her heart belongs to the furry four legged creatures of the earth.  It's all she talks, draws, writes, plays, and dreams about.  Even when I drove by her school and caught a glimpse of her and a handful of friends, she and the others were crawling around on hands and knees in the grass, as cheetahs if I had to guess.

I haven't always been thrilled with her natural and all consuming love of animals.  I was heart broken when her soccer coach and I agreed that she didn't love soccer as much as I wanted her to.  But if you ever have the chance to see her in action with animals, it's as if she was born to love them.  She struggles to get through a page of math homework.  But will spend hours researching and writing about a single creature, just for fun!

Lainy loves her brothers in spite of their boyish irritations.   I have no doubt that she has softened, shared bravery, joy, and imagination to her brothers, and they have been forever blessed by her being sandwiched between them as siblings.  

Some days she rocks my world and I am ready to string her up by her boot straps.  But I too am forever blessed by this little blonde haired child I am so grateful to call my daughter.

Love you so much my little Lainy!!