My Hands, My Children, My Job

*I'm setting a mark for myself to blog on here at least once a week. So many happenings are going unrecorded, and though I'm doing it entirely for myself, I know there are a couple of readers still out there that miss me. So let's see how this goes.*

During late December, my hands finally succumbed to the cracking and dryness that often happens during the winter months. My right thumb had a significant, painful crack on it and no matter how much lotion/ointment I applied, it wouldn't heal. I dealt with it for a few days, and was hopeful that a week in the Caribbean humidity would cure it. That Caribbean humidity worked a miracle on my skin, although a havoc on my hair. (It's rare I can empathize with my mother-in-law about hair issues.) My thumb healed perfectly, and my hands spent a glorious 8 days rarely needing lotion.

Despite going on our cruise earlier than usual this year, I returned home optimistic that the softness of my skin would last throughout the rest of the cold, dry weeks of winter we have yet to endure, as it has the past couple of years post-cruise.

My visions of smooth skin for the rest of the winter didn't take into account the fact I'd be washing my hands 4,073 times for a couple of days last week, and now this week.

You see.
We have a new identity (hobby?) around here.

The Sowby Family is perhaps now better known as Public Vomiters.

Meet Joshua, third grader that spewed his breakfast, including a red berry smoothie (TMI?) across his third grade classroom last week.

And this is Drew. 1st Grader who five days after big brother's debut, decided to match him by throwing up on the school bus yesterday afternoon.

And this is Ellie. 6th grader who I kept home thinking she had a mild case of I'm-sort-of-sick-but-really-I-just-want-a-day-home-from-school. But the fact a few hours later, a bathroom rug was thrown away instead of washed, confirmed my earlier ambivalent feelings of keeping her home had in fact been the right choice.

Despite Ellie being home sick yesterday (her throwing up didn't start until after lunchtime), I decided to do Cookie Day. Every so often, I greet the children at the bus stop with a container of cookies, and I hear reports of children spying me from a few houses down as the bus approaches with chants and cheers of, "Cookie Day! Cookie Day!" I love the enthusiasm and cheers that greet me as I stand there with my blue lid container full of cookies.

Except yesterday, as I stood by while the bus doors opened, intermixed with chants of "Yay! It's Cookie Day!" and "Cookie Day! Cookie Day!" were more loud and overpowering voices yelling, "Drew threw up on the bus!" and "Drew just barfed!"

Rarely am I at the bus stop to greet my children, but the bus driver knew I was Drew's mother, so I didn't really  have an escape. I wanted to stand there passing out cookies like normal, or even run home to help Drew, but more accurately, I daydreamed for just a moment of running home, hopping in my car and escaping to a hotel for an undetermined amount of time.

I didn't.

Instead, I passed the cookies to a neighbor boy to give out, and turned to the bus driver (who had just retrieved the emergency 'Body Fluid Cleanup Kit') and I said, "I am so sorry." And then quite insincerely added, "Can I help you clean it up?"

(For the record, I asked GENUINELY at the elementary school if I could help clean up Joshua's and they told me, "Oh, the janitor's got it taken care of.")

A part of me thought the bus driver would say, "Oh no. It's part of the job, go home and take care of your child." or even, "Oh, it's no big deal. Keep passing out cookies." Instead, I somewhat stumbled into the bus as he said, "Yes. I think I will let you."

I have cleaned up a lot of throw up in my life. I'll spare you the details of some of the worst (my BFF's teenage brother throughout his whole bedroom, mere weeks after their mother died is likely still at the top), but the floor of a school bus, mixed with my child's lunch remnants come in as a close second.

Wondering how my soft hands relate to all this?

Ellie and Drew threw up more times yesterday afternoon and evening than I can count. I washed my hands more times yesterday than I have in my entire life combined.

By yesterday evening, I could feel the annual crack on the side of my thumb beginning to make a second appearance of the season.

So last night, when a child started spewing in their bucket as they walked to the bathroom, and Mike continued eating his dinner, I said, "That's fine, I'll help AGAIN. But don't be surprised when I HAVE to go alone to the Caribbean next week for medical reasons."

I'm a nice, compassionate, serving mother and wife like that.

Whoever Would Have Thought?

Starting the last Saturday in August, we have found ourselves on the sidelines of a football field every Saturday cheering on Joshua. And you know what? I have loved every second of it.

I LOVE this series of photos that depicts a pretty stellar play by Joshua earlier in the season. (Photo credit goes to a mom on the team. (?) Pay close attention to Joshua's ability to get away from his opposition.

You likely don't have to know the Sowby family too well to know that our involvement in organized sports over the years has been next to nothing. This comes from a variety of reasons, not the least being the time commitment it would cause a family of seven for only one child.

Joshua's passion for football has been obvious for over a year now. He plays football, he thinks football, he imagines football, and I'm quite certain, he even breathes it. Mike and I fought somewhat against letting Joshua play tackle football at such a young age, but decided in the end to let him try it.

My introduction to the football league at the beginning during try-outs was nothing short of an emotional wreck for me. I can't really describe it, or rather, shouldn't. But suffice it to say, Joshua got his tonsils out on the 2nd day of practice. The first day of practice when reminding one of the coaches that Joshua was having this surgery done, said, "Oh. But he'll still be here dressed tomorrow night though, right?"

Poor Mike took the brunt of my emotional breakdowns that first week regarding football and the commitment it started to be, but before long, I accepted Mike's advice of, "You've made the decision. Just move forward with it and don't second guess it anymore." 

Joshua's tonsillectomy during tryouts turned out to be a blessing! Due to his spotty involvement during tryouts, he was put on the team with the coach that I had secretly hoped he would get.

I can't say enough nice things about Coach Nate (and his dad, Coach Bryan) and their dedication to a group of 22 boys, several of which often disrupt the lessons being taught. These coaches are patient and kind, and seem to care about teaching these boys skills that will benefit them both on and off the field.

Though there have been plenty of times I've sat on proverbial sidelines and watched my children participate in their various interests and hobbies, there's something about seeing one's child committed to a team, dedicated to his position and giving his all to help secure wins. For almost 3 months now, Joshua has put 6 hours of practice in each week, not counting the games. Over the years, I would have (secretly) chided another family for putting this much time commitment into one child, but not only have we made it work, but Joshua has NEVER complained ONCE about having to miss out on free time, other activities and even a missed opportunity for a family trip. I've joked, "We sold our souls to football this fall" but it's worked, and I've seen a side of parenthood I never imagined I'd see.

Joshua clearly knew upfront that Mike and I were not committing to a "life of football", but only to this one season. Last week while driving home from a game, Joshua very quietly from the back seat said, "I love football. I want to play next year too." I can't help but admit, it  made me smile. I'm not sure I mind giving up another fall season of Saturdays to a football sideline.

Before my maudlin football ramblings get to be a bit much, I'll end by simply saying:

There is no doubt, I am Joshua's biggest fan.

Go Joshua!

Go Braves!

Patting Myself on the Back

I recently returned from spending 9 days away from home. Mike and I enjoyed time alone together in the beautiful Southern Caribbean. For 9 days, we did little to no parenting. Unless you count responding to:

a. the phone call while sitting on the beach from my 5 year old to inform me he was alone in the house (with his 2  neighbor friends) and that the over-night babysitter hadn't locked up the house.
b. the text from Megan asking if she should check Luke out from school because he keeps texting her to inform her he feels like he is going to "barf and poop."
c. the email to Megan to tell whomever keeps purchasing songs on my i-Tunes account to stop.
d. the text to Luke telling him, "No. You can't stay home from school today to ride your horse."

I have to say it was quite nice to have very limited text/phone call/email ability.

(Mike and Tiffany-victims of a blow-hole in St. Thomas)

We returned home very late on Saturday night. Well, technically, Sunday morning. All the children were fast asleep in bed, and I wandered the {clean} house (go Megan!) kissing them goodnight, and noticing a "few things" that sort of bugged me. Mike instructed me to "let it go" and we climbed into bed about 2am.

I'm not so sure how much of my not being able to fall asleep was due to my body thinking it was 5am, or because I was busy thinking about all the things I had just noticed. Things that in my absence, didn't quite seem to happen, but that DO happen when I am home.

The bunch of bananas and bowl of apples would have been consumed instead of sitting on the counter rotting.

Joshua's "Evaluate the moon for 20 days" assignment  that I left hanging in a prominent place would have been done at least one night.

Shirts would not have been in the clean laundry basket. They would have promptly been hung up upon their retrieval from the dryer.

All of the children's candy from their school Valentine's parties, and the candy gift I left them for Valentine's Day, would not have been consumed in their entirety so rapidly. Nor would the wrappers be left strewn on the carpet as evidence. (In fairness, this was primarily the doing of Drew and Joshua.)

Drew's homework packet would have been done at least once during the week.

I fell asleep early Sunday morning, within minutes of my arrival home, mentally patting myself on the back about all the things that occur when I am home.

As if I needed further proof of my mothering and household-running competence...

Seven hours later (yes. that's right.), we sat in church with our family. Drew was sitting close to Mike, and I heard Mike ask him, "Did you brush your teeth at all while we were gone?" To which Drew responded timidly, "Umm. No." Disgusted, I asked him, "Did you bathe or shower while we were gone?" To which Drew replied, "I had a tubbie once."

Just for the record I thought I'd see how Joshua's personal hygiene fared in our absence, and I leaned across Mike and questioned Joshua, "Did you brush your teeth while we were gone?" His face resembled Drew's as he quietly answered, "I did once."

I turned my focus back to the church meeting, but not before snidely commenting to Mike, "I do a lot when I'm home."

In addition to bananas not rotting, and clean laundry being hung up, when I am home, teeth get brushed and bodies get cleaned.

I didn't dare ask if Drew ever changed his underwear.
I honestly, don't want to know.

PS-The babysitter, and the older children did a FABULOUS job running the household while we were gone. Plenty of things were done, and done well. There were just a few things that obviously fell through the cracks. Oh well.

Just a Typical Sunday

Our Sunday afternoons are quite often slow-paced. But let me clarify what I mean by slow-paced... we have little (if anything) scheduled or planned. It doesn't mean everyone walks around in slow motion, or that our voices and tones are slower and more controlled.

It simply means, there isn't a lot of things that have to get done, and for some questionable reason, we all seem to end up for hours in the SAME ROOM!

Mike and I have tried to question our children for years, "What is so cool about Mom and Dad that you want/have to be right here with us?" They don't ever really give us an answer.

We don't have a huge house, but we have bedrooms children could go in, an upstairs "loft/family room" that children could play/entertain themselves in, and we even have a spare bedroom that is often used as a craft room/toy room/school room, etc.

But not on Sundays. For some reason on Sundays, everyone likes to gather in the same room, and as rosy and peachy as that sounds. It usually isn't. Mike lays on the couch, I sit in the chair with my feet up on the ottoman and the children fit themselves (and projects and toys) in there around us.

Lately, the attention is focused on the television screen for NFL football games. So NOT what I want my family to be doing on the Sabbath, but I have relaxed even more since THESE DAYS.

Except no one watches the game quietly. There's Hot Wheels being vrmmed somewhere in the room. Megan is trying to tell us story on top of story as well as random NFL facts that I DON'T CARE ABOUT. Luke is throwing a football to Joshua, Ellie is typically fitting in cartwheels whilst dodging Hot Wheels and footballs.

Someone always yells at Drew to stop making so much noise. Someone yells because they got hit (or near miss) with the football, someone yells at Megan to stop talking so much, someone yells at Ellie to go cartwheel where there is more space, and I too often yell at Mike, who is calmly and quietly laying on the couch and ask, "How do you SLEEP THROUGH IT ALL? It's NOT FAIR!"

On a recent Sunday, the football toss escalated into a chaotic, wild game of sibling football. Obviously knowing how these types of events escalate, I was quite happy when I looked over and saw that Joshua had ON HIS OWN ACCORD separated himself from the chaos and sat in the corner of the family room reading a book. I was so proud (and shocked) of his little move to avoid the inevitable trouble, that I Instagrammed this photo with this comment: "Once in a blue moon, while absolute chaos ensues with all the other children, one child will choose to separate themselves and make a better choice. #hemaybemyfavoriterightnow #sundaysarenotmyfavorite"

(bad, bad photo I know, but I've never claimed to be a photographer...I'm a memory recorder.)

He remained my favorite child for a while...

This particular Sunday evening, we had somewhere we needed to be. So amid this typical Sunday evening, we interrupted the children to get on their church clothes so we could have our annual tithing settlement with our bishop. (Personal, short, family meeting with the clergy of our ward.)

Mass chaos began again as children argued, negotiated, fought, etc. about the task at hand, but within a few moments everyone came back ready to go, only for us to realize we had forgotten it was 10 minutes later than we originally thought.

So...Megan scattered into the front room to practice her harp, and Joshua was told to quit throwing a football and to leave the family room we were all in.

Joshua obeyed.
Partially.
Unbeknownst to us, he took a soft "globe" and decided to use it as a soccer ball and entertain himself in the hall by himself.

Just as our 10 extra minutes were up, and we were to walk out the door to leave, we heard a sound that we knew wasn't a good sound. We didn't know quite what it was until we saw that it was 200+ pieces of Candy Corn and a large, tall glass jar hitting the hard tile floor.

First we saw this:

And then I noticed this:

(shelf where the fall decoration once stood- it was a tall glass jar filled with lots of Candy Corn and fall decor)

We all followed the sound.

Mike said nothing except, "We've got to go to the church. Megan, be careful not to step in the glass." I stood there, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at the horrible mess scattered into the dining room, living room and hall. Joshua promptly burst into tears, I think most likely at the perplexity that NO ONE RAISED THEIR VOICE at him.

The sound of the crash and subsequent spilling candy and breaking glass was enough punishment for Joshua. He knew what he had done was wrong, there was no need to remind him. (Nice example that once in a while Mike and I do okay at parenting.)

The next morning at breakfast, Joshua expressed his surprise that nobody yelled at him when the decoration fell to the floor. Just as I was about to commend myself aloud to him and remind him that Mom and Dad are capable of having calm, controlled reactions, Joshua surmised,

"It was probably because the decoration was almost 'expired.' It's almost time for Christmas decorations anyway."

I wanted to argue with him about his surmising, but I'm trying to set an example of disagreeing and arguing less with each other. (A frequent big problem around here.)

So, I'll leave it for you to decide instead...

Mike and I remained calm, cool and collected because:

a. sometimes, simply put, we have pretty stellar parenting skills
b. likely we were too worn out and exhausted to care
c. if it's almost the end of a particular season we don't care if seasonal decorations get broken
d. a and b
e. all of the above

Hint, the answer isn't c or e.

Luke and Mike

Merely a coincidence that the two most recent blog posts are about Luke. Onto other children later...

On Instagram recently, a friend commented on a photo, "I wish I was one of your children, I'd like to see what trip I'd get to go on."

She was referring to the fact that Luke and Mike were in Seattle, WA at the NFL kick-off game with between the Green Bay Packers and Seattle Seahawks .

Which I must explain...
In June 2013, we went on a family trip to California. We had an okay time, but for the most part, it was a nightmare.

A. NIGHTMARE.

More than once Mike and I looked at each other wondering what in the world we were doing, and I'm quite sure Mike swore on his life that he'd never go on a family vacation again.

With the combination of that less than stellar family vacation experience, and a high number of airline rewards points we have experimented with a new style of travel this year. In the winter, I took the two little boys to Disneyland, and we have been anticipating a trip to NYC this fall with our girls. One night in July, I started brainstorming about "trip ideas" for Luke and suddenly thought of a football game. His two favorite teams are the Packers and Seahawks, and so I looked at the schedules of each.

I could not believe my eyes that late Sunday night while laying in my bed, with my i-pad in my hand, when I saw that the Packers and the Seahawks were due to play each other on a THURSDAY night and in SEATTLE. (A much more desired destination than Wisconsin?) We had enough miles for free flights, and not knowing anything about typical NFL football ticket prices, it seemed like it was a trip worth making happen.

I take full credit for the idea, the booking, the accommodations, the preparation, the activity agenda, the printed directions, the instructions, the packing, etc. Mike gets full credit for paying for it.

Little did I know that when I bought the tickets, it was the NFL kick-off game. A pretty big deal in the world of NFL.

Megan is an avid football fan herself (this is just her 2nd season), but she is far more excited about an upcoming trip to NYC. She rallied the siblings around her for the big game and they watched it on tv, on slightly damp couches that had been professionally clean that day. (Our whole house was in complete disarray from the carpets being cleaned earlier in the day.)

The rest is pretty much history. Although I must make a disclaimer--that there are no spoiled children around here. These trips are no different than a family trip somewhere for the seven of us, and no trip would happen if we had to actually "pay" for the plane ticket. (We haven't "paid" for a plane ticket for a couple of years now...)

(I totally take credit for their plane seats being on the side that had a great view of Mount. St. Helen's volcano. Go me. (Sheer coincidence/luck.))

Anyway,
Back to Mike and Luke...

 (The view from their room. They're welcome. (Again...pure coincidence/luck.)

 (I loved visiting Seattle last September, and was so excited they got to see the Gum Wall that I had told them so much about.)

They spent a wonderful time together in Seattle last week. Luke wore his Packer's jersey to the game with his Seahawks t-shirt underneath. The day after the game, as they explored the city, Luke wore a Packers hat with a Seahawks shirt. Mike said he got humorous comments all day long from passers-by.

Mike loved it. And even though he did choke a little at the price of the trip, I know he is glad they went and I, we made it happen. Mike's comment to me the evening of their return?

"It was all so low-key. It was really nice, just being Luke and me. Even you there would have changed the dynamic drastically. We were both really laid-back, relaxed and had a great time."

Separately, Luke reported to me, "It was so fun just me and dad. I hope you know what I mean, but I'm even glad you weren't there."

Not quite sure exactly HOW to interpret either of those comments.

And that my friends is probably why full-seven-member-family-vacations are not really in our plans anymore.

Grand Champion

Did I really not blog much this summer? Ugh. I'm rarely one to go back and catch up, but I can't possibly neglect to record Luke's experience at the Davis County Fair this year.

This was the 4th year in a row that Luke entered his goat(s) into the Davis County Fair. Last year, I finally realized the fairs weren't so bad after all if:

a. I have no other children with me
b. I bring plenty to read and/or do and realize no one keeps to a schedule
c. I wear closed toe shoes

This year, I was ready for it. A week before, I was mentally prepared for a day at the fair, complete with a good book to read, some closed shoes and nothing on the schedule that would mean Megan couldn't babysit the other children for me. I found myself actually looking forward to it.

And then a dear friend passed away, and I received news that her funeral was on the same day as the fair. The same day. The same time.

I cried plenty of tears that a dear lady I loved had passed away, and I shed a few tears that I would miss Luke at the fair. Luke completely understood my absence, and I sent my best wishes and luck to him, and promised I'd check my phone frequently during the funeral for photos.

The funeral I attended was wonderful. It was a touching tribute to a mother whose 6 grown children spoke lovingly and humorously of life with her as a mother. I found myself reflecting on my own mothering throughout the funeral, and the fact I wasn't with Luke did pull at my heart a fair amount.

Just as the funeral was nearing the end, I received a text from Mike with the following photo that read, "Packer was just announced as the Grand Champion."

 

"What????" was my simple reply.
Then I shed a little tear that I wasn't there.

My friend who was being honored that day, read my blog regularly. She would comment frequently to me about my children, my writings, and my musings. She wasn't much of a lady for fanfare or attention, and would likely had advised me to go to the fair instead of her funeral. But like I told Luke, there will be plenty of opportunities for me to attend more county fairs, but that was my only opportunity to attend a tribute to her.

Besides, he has a good story to tell at my funeral one day...
"My mother attended lots of boring county fairs where my goats didn't win anything. But one year, my goat won Grand Champion of them all and it just so happened that was the one year my mother wasn't there..."

A Fairy?

The long awaited day arrived recently...Joshua FINALLY lost his first tooth. He and Megan had a co-op effort to remove the tooth, and it was immediately placed under his pillow to await the over-rated yet highly anticipated tooth fairy.

Joshua woke up earlier than usual on Friday morning, and with a big grin on his face announced, "I got a dollar from the tooth fairy." His toothless grin and excitement over the mysterious placement of money under his pillow made me feel encouraged that I'd chosen laziness and had slept through my early morning Pilates class and was still in bed to greet him.

I like to think I somehow deserved the reward of seeing his early morning elation regarding a dollar bill under his pillow.

Luke on the other hand, upon waking up greeted me in my bathroom and asked in a somewhat accusing manner, "Why did you hit me in the face last night?" Despite no one else being around, I gave him that "mother look" and in a hushed voice said, "I wasn't in your room last night." To which his all-knowing 12 year-old prowess stated, "Well the Tooth Fairy is violent and she says bad words" as he turned to leave me to apply my mascara with no further interruption.

Seriously.
Children.
Forget the children. Where's the person that started the dumb (d_ _ _?) tooth fairy tradition in the first place? I have a few words to say to them?

Do they not know that the summer has already taken a toll on this mother?

Do they not know the skip in my step as I walked down the upstairs hall late the other night, encouraged that for the first time in A LOT of lost teeth the highly esteemed and sometimes forgetful Tooth Fairy was actually coming on the FIRST NIGHT???

We'll let my late-night Facebook Status tell the rest of the story....

For the first time in A LOT of lost teeth, the Tooth Fairy finally remembered to come on the FIRST night. Except as she tiptoed into the dark room, she tripped on a cardboard "airport", and fell onto the toothless sleeping child. The fall made enough noise to wake the nearby 12 year old, and as she went to hug him goodnight she elbowed him in the eye. Which caused him to make a loud noise, which made the Tooth Fairy realize she needed to get out of the room quickly before her identity was at risk. While leaving, she stepped on a sharp object and may or may not have said a bad word out- loud. The Tooth Fairy is still suffering the effects of having a sharp object jammed into her foot.

Whose dumb idea was a Tooth Fairy tradition?

Knowing full well Megan's displeasure in being assigned a responsibility to actually DO a secretive task, Megan had instead been threatened enlisted and strongly encouraged to not let the Tooth Fairy forget her duties. Megan didn't fail.

Except her timing was slightly off. She came into my bedroom to remind me about the visiting Tooth Fairy as I laid in my bed nursing a sore foot due to aforementioned sharp object jamming. I was a little less than cheery towards her and likely didn't thank her for her reminder. Which I didn't need.

In case you forgot... I remembered it all on my own.
ON THE FIRST NIGHT.
Although I may think twice about remembering it next time.

D_ _ _ Tooth Fairy.

A Renewal

I had one high expectation this summer...that I wouldn't feel worn down by the beginning of August like I usually do. I have fallen terribly short of reaching that expectation.

I am extremely worn down.
I am snappy, and ornery, and I honestly daydream about becoming "one of those mothers" that runs away. You know the kind. The ones that don't come back into their children's lives until they are grown adults.

There. I've admitted my weakness out loud, and it already feels better to admit it aloud. (Well, I did also admit it to Mike last week. Problem was, I think he was concerned I was serious. Which I guess I kind of was. It had been one of those days.) Somehow it is therapeutic to write out my weakness for everyone to see. Besides writing on this blog, is cheaper than a good hour with a therapist.

Anyway, I digress. This was and is intended to be a lovely, beautiful uplifting post, where the joy of motherhood oozes from the words. So let's try again.

This evening I decided to go on a bike ride with my three boys. (I had intended to go alone, but that didn't happen...) A little way into it, Luke offered to return home with Drew and let me enjoy it without Drew cutting me off and making me have to brake every few inches. Joshua and I continued the bike road alone. It was a lovely cool (for August) evening and Joshua and I rode along for 5 miles or so.

I didn't have my phone with me, so I wasn't able to capture a photo. But I'm actually glad about that. Sometimes mind photos are the best anyway.

Joshua rode ahead of me much of the way, his small little bum going side to side as he stood on his pedals riding as fast as his little legs would go. On our return home, I was reminded of exercising with Joshua and Drew years ago. This particular moment I recorded HERE came to mind. And I was suddenly thrust into a sentimental memory while my little boy ahead of me pedaling reminded me how quickly the years have passed since he was a barely three year old child running ahead of his stroller.

Joshua is my sweet child. Caught alone with that boy, he reminds me of all that is good, peaceful and beautiful in the world. He is the peacemaker and the giver of the family. The more passive personality among the assertive companions he lives with. Joshua is an antithesis of his mother.

As we rode along on our bikes tonight, a bench up ahead caught my eye and I called ahead to Joshua to wait for me at the bench. And then we stopped, relaxed and visited together. We sat side by side on the bench, with Joshua's red mohawk helmet on his head and enjoyed the views of the beautiful mountains I love. The same mountains I look at daily from my kitchen and family room windows, they are stalwart and un-moving and  rarely a day goes by that I don't look at them in some metaphorical, deep way.

Joshua and I then raced home on our bikes. Joshua clearly beat me by a long-shot and I was greeted with a big trademark Joshua smile as I approached the trail head.

Whether it was Joshua, the mountains, the fresh air, or a tender mercy from God that refreshed my heavy heart tonight doesn't matter. What matters is I am reminded to keep showing up, and to keep pressing forward. Motherhood isn't supposed to be easy. Neither is summer vacation. But sometimes those brief moments come along and I'm reminded that it isn't as complicated and hard as it so often seems. This quote by President Uchtdorf in one of my favorite talks ever reminds me, "There is a beauty and clarity that comes from simplicity that we sometimes do not appreciate in our thirst for intricate solutions."

My blog has been somewhat neglected this summer, but I am reminded tonight, that when I take the time to put my thoughts and feelings into words, things just feel better. And even though tomorrow I'll still have arguing children, crumbs on the counter, abandoned socks in every room, and pee on the toilet seat, my children are only young once. These days will not last forever.

I know that.
I need to remember it every minute of every day.

The days are long, but the years are short.

The grand Grand Canyon

During our recent trip, Mike and I woke up on Monday morning in Kanab, ready to drive somewhere! We had already decided that we wouldn't go "straight home", but we had misunderstood each other about what detour we would be taking. I was pleasantly surprised when Mike announced we were going to the Grand Canyon! I was so excited. I had started reading a book the night before titled, 'I am the Grand Canyon', and I was regretting I was "so close" but wouldn't be visiting. The children weren't exactly thrilled about adding more driving to our road-trip, but Mike gave them all some Dramamine (3 of the 5 get extremely car sick if we don't, and the other 2 get the medicine for good measure.)

The drive to the canyon was a beautiful, steep, peaceful drive. We saw so many different scenes, from the red rocks, to forests of pine trees, open fields, roaming buffalo, etc. It was a testament of God's creation, and I was (for the most part) able to ignore the "How much longer?" and "Are we there yet?" questions from the back seat once the drowsiness of the medicine wore off.

I'm saving my initial experience at the Grand Canyon for my personal journal...it was a spiritual and enlightening experience for me.

Luke's cell phone's screen is a photo of the Grand Canyon. It makes me smile every time that I see it. I love that my children appreciated the beauty of one of God's greatest masterpieces.

Drew was a pain.in.the.butt. the entire time we were at the canyon. I particularly didn't want him to go into the gift store with me when I went to purchase some postcards. Joshua on the other hand did go with me, and I let him pick out a Grand Canyon key chain. Somehow, Drew made it into the store with an older sibling and immediately started whining about wanting a silly toy telescope. Not even giving him the time of day, I purchased my items and exited. While we sat outside writing postcards, Drew went on and on about the silly telescope, and Luke politely asked if he could have a key chain too. I went in the shop to buy Luke a key chain, and on a whim decided I would buy the (pretty cheap) telescope for Drew and give it to him later as either a souvenir, a bribe, or a reward. (This family trip was beginning to wear we down in more ways than one.)

I sent Megan off in search of some ice cream as a treat (FYI-there is none to be found at the North Rim.), Joshua was trying to use the compass on his key chain, Luke was viewing his key chain, Ellie was quietly enjoying the surroundings, I was trying to get some remote cell phone service to look up my in-laws mission address, Drew was crying and whining about why he didn't get a key chain and why can't he get the telescope, and Mike was...

Let's see. I think Mike was off enjoying some beautiful views A.L.O.N.E.

Mike soon returned, as did Megan with the bad news there was no ice cream to be consumed, and everyone was mildly disappointed my promise of ice cream would not be fulfilled. Except for Drew, all he cared about was the telescope he so desperately wanted.

In a very weak parenting moment, and throwing all sane parenting lessons of entitlement and giving-into-tantrums out the window, I pulled that brown paper shop bag out of my purse turned around to Drew, shoved the bag against his chest and said, "Here! Have a telescope!"

I turned back around and began marching towards the car. Much to my dismay, I knew full well I had a 6 person entourage following me. Which really, what did you expect them to do? No words were needed, but my body language had just announced, "Our time at the Grand Canyon is over."

For about 15 seconds I heard no sound from Drew behind me and began silently praying thanks that toy telescope manufacturers exist in this world. Before my toy manufacture prayer of gratitude was over, without having to turn around, I heard Drew's silence stop and the tantrum start again, this time more passionately than before. Mike--the sane parent among us, was not going to reward Drew's behavior, and took away the desired telescope from Drew almost as quickly as I had handed it to him. In my heart I knew I should be thankful for a good, sane, deliberate co-parent, but all I could wish for in that moment, was why couldn't Mike make a bad parenting choice with me and shut our child up by giving him the damn telescope!

(Disclaimer: Drew is soooo not typically like this. I'm not sure what had gotten into him!?! Too many late nights? Too many hours on the road?) 

We loaded into the car, with a couple of brave children courageous enough to speak say, "Is there a chance we could eat before we begin the long drive again?" We pulled over to a nearby picnic area, pulled out our trusty cooler and sat in one of the most beautiful places we have ever "picnicked". Yet no one really spoke, no one enjoyed themselves, and no one basked in the beauty of our location.  

If you look at nothing else but where Megan chose to sit, you'll see why this photo speaks a thousand words.

Although I have chosen to share only the "negative parts" of our trip to the Grand Canyon, I know from hearing children speak of it since returning, that it remains one of their top highlights of our recent trip. We made some wonderful memories and had a fabulous time together, but the fact remains, I want to be able to remember the realness of our time together too. I don't want to look back and think traveling with five children in a car for hours was easy and blissful. It isn't and wasn't, but it is the difficult parenting moments, that make the good moments so much better.

The Grand Canyon was beautiful! I wish I could have spent more time in such a wonderful place. I wish I could have sat in a chair overlooking the canyon for hours with a journal in my hand, recording all of my thoughts and feelings. One day Mike and I will return to the Grand Canyon sans children.

(I had no idea Mike took this photo, until I saw it on my computer! Very fitting.)

Our journey home, took us via the Pipe Springs National Monument in Arizona. It was very, very hot, but a nice step back in time to the history of the American Indians and Mormon Pioneers trying to negotiate land, water and rights.

Hours after our ice cream search at the Grand Canyon, we rewarded our children with ice cream at a Indian Reservation gas station before beginning the long drive straight home. If you don't count the few times Joshua had to stop and pee, our non-fast visit to a fast food restaurant, we made it home with relatively few detours and stops.

It was a grand adventure I'm not sure we'll repeat anytime soon.

"Sometimes we become so focused on the finish line that we fail to find joy in the journey."

~Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Joy (?) in the Journey

I don't enjoy road trips. They give me anxiety (real anxiety, not traveling with 5 children induced anxiety). However, I have to say, that I did very well on our recent trip to and from our family reunion in Flagstaff, AZ.

(Okay, if you forget the part on the way down that I yelled at Mike and he snapped back, "I think you're overdue for another dose of your travel medicine." Point well taken.)

Although driving to Flagstaff is absolutely do-able in a day, Mike and I decided to emphasize "joy in the journey" instead of "joy in a final destination", and we split the drive up. On the way down to Flagstaff, we stopped over-night in Kanab, UT. It's a charming little town, and I love the Holiday Inn hotel there. After a take-out dinner from the local Pizza Hut, some of the children and Mike swam. At one point, Mike and I left the hotel room with 5 fighting children and escaped downstairs to a lounge. We were fairly certain at one point that the sounds above us would get us removed from the hotel, but alas we stayed the night.

The bright spot of the hotel stay? Three queen beds in one hotel room!!!! Fabulous. Why don't more hotels have that option!?!

We left for Flagstaff the next morning with a stop at one of Mike's favorite places...Lake Powell.

We had anticipated grand tours of the Glen Canyon Dam, but only 2 tour spots were left, so we opted to do it upon our drive via again on Sunday afternoon. We enjoyed some snacks in the shade, beautiful views, but not each other. This was a tense time in our trip, but look how the photos (kind of) fool you all.

Our days in Flagstaff have already been recorded, so back on the road again for the ride home. Loading our car up at the hotel in Flagstaff was another tense time. I wondered why in the world I hadn't driven back to Phoenix with my Cousin Jennifer and caught a flight home from there instead of torture the car ride home. I wouldn't have done that to my dear Mike though, although he likely would have supported it. (He not only puts up with 5 children in the car, but a travel-anxiety wife too.)

(Ellie was with us, but I'm not that flexible to have secured a photo of her sleeping too!)

Mike was so proud of the miles per gallon he got our suburban up to a couple of times. I acted enthusiastic and excited for him, even though I really don't get too pumped about 13.7 mpg, 17.8 and no, not even 21.0. But I did secure a few "proof" photos for him of his proud suburban-owner moment.

As we drove through the Indian Reservation filled areas of Arizona, Mike and I got carried away in a conversation about Native Americans. Realizing I have never had those basic US History classes that he (and my children) had/have, Mike gave me some Indian history lessons. I fell in love with some of the history I heard, and upon arrival at the Glen Canyon Dam visitor's center a few hours later, bought myself a book I am thoroughly enjoying.

 Upon arrival at the Dam, we were all in need of some food, leg room, and bathroom. I went and secured tickets for the 3:30pm Dam Tour, declining to join  (due to aforementioned "needs") the 3:00pm one  that was being led away. At 3:20pm, we arrived at our Dam Tour meeting place, only to be told that essentially we were part of history at the Dam... Due to extreme temperatures, for the first time ever, the tour was being cancelled. I am NOT a tour type person, but Mike is, and he and the older two children were very, very disappointed. I was disappointed for them, and then disappointed for myself that if we hadn't have been so excited about getting to the DAM tour, we could have taken a different route home via the Grand Canyon instead.

We loaded disappointed and heavy-hearted children back into the suburban, and continued our journey home, via another night in Kanab.

Now, I have to interrupt myself to mention a little fact about (road) traveling with Mike...He isn't much about junk food and snacks....for the children. While he is up front chowing down Hot Tamales and guzzling Mountain Dew, the cooler offered grapes, apple slices, carrots, string cheese, etc. for the children. (I exxagerate slightly...they did have the occasional permission granted to also partake of some Hot Tamales.) Anyway, it turned into somewhat of a (not funny) joke that upon someone mentioning they were hungry for an actual meal, Mike would tell them there were plenty of snacks in the cooler. Luke especially tired of this overheard line, and complained and moaned the loudest about how desperately he needed a "real meal."

Our arrival in Kanab didn't come any too soon, and we rolled into that small town on Sunday evening hungry, tired and a little weary. We entered and exited the McDonalds in a single step (most disgusting, gross, dirty, fast food place I have ever seen!), and found ourselves at a charming little diner. We ordered a few plates for us to share, with the exception of Luke who was granted his own $8.95 hamburger. I know it's a blurry photo, but for the sake of what will always be a Sowby Family Trip Memory, we must preserve the remembrance of Luke not having a bite of his $8.95 hamburger. Instead he visited that little diner's restroom more times than he would have liked. We'll preserve Luke's dignity from here on out, but that $8.95 REAL MEAL he was finally granted ended up in a hotel garbage can the next morning.

Mike and I broke all our own rules of not swimming on the Sabbath day, and allowed the children that wanted to, to swim at the pool on Sunday night.

At the risk of losing our parenting license, I will refrain from sharing the story about Mike and me laying on the hotel bed. Him watching television, me reading, Megan in the joining room watching a different television. All of the sudden the hotel fire alarm rings. I went into a momentary state of panic that we are separated from our children and grabbed my purse and we headed out to the halls to evacuate with the other hotel guests. We saw Luke from a distance, and I relaxed slightly at the sight of him, and then tensed up to my maximum state when his response about the other three children was, "Oh, I don't know, I left them at the pool."

That night wasn't exactly one of the most stellar parenting nights in our experience. But we all lived to tell the tale, and I'm sure the hotel guest that put birthday candles on a birthday cake won't do it again anytime soon.

Wow! This post is long, and I've changed my mind about adding to it. Besides, the detour we took to the Grand Canyon the next morning complete with my mini-temper tantrum as I shoved a telescope against Drew's chest and marched off to the car, deserves a post of its own. Forget the grandeur of nature, and the beauty of the canyon, that little "telescope moment" remains the highlight of Mike's visit to the Grand Canyon a couple of weeks ago.

Tomorrow...
I promise.