Nothing Glamorous

Last Spring, I spent an evening walking a main road through Georgetown. On the outskirts of the nation's capital, on a balmy spring evening, were hundreds of people crowding in and out of upper class shops and restaurants on a Saturday night.

I was alone with my daughter and my sister-in-law. My eldest son was a mile or so away exploring the old canals of the city with his grandfather, my other three children and husband were on the other side of the country at home.

For a moment, I lost myself in the hustle and bustle of a busy city. I daydreamed of a life filled with shopping trips to Barneys and eating at restaurants from menus that would never consider offering hamburgers and fries. I was almost giddy with the sights and sounds surrounding me. I watched lovers arm in arm, heads tilted back in laughter, shoppers carrying bags and bags of expensive contents, limousines patiently waiting, and pre-dinner cocktails being sipped. There were people everywhere.


What a life!

I kept thinking as I continued to daydream of life in this city complete with a top-floor apartment nearby and an important, executive job.

What happened next almost sounds made-up. My cell phone beeped that I had a text message and I held in my hand a picture message of my middle two children staring up at me with smiles of childhood magic and excitement, proudly holding up freshly colored Easter eggs.

In an instant my daydream ended and I wanted nothing more than to be two thousand miles from Georgetown at home, sitting at my kitchen table coloring hard-boiled eggs.

Suddenly, the sights and sounds around me lost some of their luster. The lovers didn't seem quite as in love, the laughter not as genuine, the clothing not quite as lavish, the limousines not as inviting, the restaurants not quite as appealing, and the laughter not as genuine.

I wanted nothing more than my life. My life in all of it's everydayness. Visions of dirty diapers, McDonalds Happy meals, tiny t-shirt stains to launder, the sounds of kids' unabashed laughter over passing gas, spilled milk, last minute rushes to the school bus, messy kitchen floors, and potato bugs in the back yard, suddenly filled my senses.

My life!
I chose it.
I choose it.
And I wouldn't trade it for the world.

A Love Affair

Last night I took a lot of slack from my husband... and though to him it is 'eating my words', to me it is something entirely different...

Remember Hank, Luke's goat? I described Hank's 'purpose' here.

Well the County Fair sure is sneaking up on us.

During May and June, the fair was still in the distant future, and we filled our days with purchasing goat feed, securing fences, watching Luke help the goat get castrated, seeing Hank 'recognize' Luke, seeing a goat walk with a leash, asking Luke to clean up goat poop from my driveway.--ALL things I NEVER would have thought I would see or do or say!!

Then in July, Luke asked one day, "Will you take care of Hank while I go on my mission? Goats live for about thirteen years, so I'll need someone to take care of him while I'm gone."

I was thrilled that Luke is planning details of his mission so soon, but was a little taken back by Hank still being around then. So I timidly asked, "Well, what about the County Fair?"

Luke's reply that screamed L-O-V-E (for Hank, not me), "Even if someone said they'd buy him at the fair for $10,000 dollars, I don't think I would sell him."

(To which our Economics major and wise investor husband and father cut in, "Luke, if someone offers you that much you and I will be having a SERIOUS talk.")

The County Fair still seemed a few weeks away following this discussion, and so we tried to forget it. Except with my big tender mother heart, I couldn't forget it. I heard speculations about how Hank was doing while we were gone for a week. I am asked to give weather forecasts daily to make sure Hank isn't going to get rained on or be too hot or be too cold. I see where Luke goes first thing he wakes up. I see pride and smiles when Luke brings Hank to visit me. (Since when do I get a big smile on my face every time a D@#$ goat shows up on my back porch?!?)

Well now the County Fair is just a week away.
While Hank was getting a hair-cut on Saturday, Luke's 'goat teacher' and some other adults (who are potential Fair Judges) were casually referencing how good looking Hank is. Among all the goats who were getting cooled off with hair-cuts, Hank was clearly the favored in the looks department.

Which brings us back to the County Fair.
Luke has never wavered on whether or not Hank will enter the County Fair. Oh believe me, Luke has all types of visions of people oohing and aahing at Hank proudly on display at the Livestock Exhibit. What Luke has wavered on, is selling Hank.

Mike has been giving all sorts of impromptu lessons on investments, returns, bank balances, upgrades, etc. Luke has been told he can take the money and turn around and buy even TWO more goats, and perhaps have a good start towards a horse. The large return would be 100% Luke's money. Luke has paid his own earned cash for Hank himself, goat feed, supplies, etc.

But dollar signs are not what are on Luke's mind.

It's the lump in his throat, the serious look in his eyes, and the heavy heart as he has repeated more than once, "If Hank wins first-place they make you sell him, so Mom will you buy him? Then as soon as they pay me, I'll give you your money back."

So dear friends, we have a good looking goat, a goat-lover son and we desperately need prayers that this much loved Goat does NOT take first place at the County Fair.

Last night laying in bed, Mike and I were discussing this whole goat/county fair thing. Mike admitted he is just helping Luke know and understand all the options so he can learn life-long lessons while he makes his own decision. Without thinking about eating my words from all the animal lovers I have made fun of over the years I blurted out, "Mike, it is not about an investment it is about a relationship."

To which Mike laughed.
And laughed as he said,
"Listen to you. We aren't even talking about a dog here. We are talking about Livestock!"

I don't care if it's a goat.
My son loves him.

Highlights, Lowlights, or Random Thoughts?

Mike used to always suggest we make a top-ten list of vacation highlights. I've never been a big fan of narrowing down so many experiences and activities, and especially calling them 'highlights'... Some aren't! Instead I'll give some random thoughts...

The nice man at the resort check-in desk invited the two children that were with me to come get a lemonade with him. Both of my children accepted his offer and followed him to the hallway a few feet away from me to get a refreshing cup of lemonade. (All the while I watched them.) Following our departure from the nice man, I asked my children, "If I wasn't with you, and someone you didn't know asked you to go with them to get some lemonade or go with them to get lots of candy, what would you say?"  My children looked at me with perplexed faces and then Ellie responded, "Hmm, please and thank you?"

Megan was 'hired' to make Grandpa's birthday cake. Megan was thrilled. Me, not so much--do you know how much prior planning (and supplies) are needed to make a cake away from home? I forgot all the prior difficulties and lack of frustrations when Megan proudly displayed the cake she made and decorated entirely by herself.

(My parents and other family members stayed at a different resort from us during the same week.)

Who makes a leather strap for pool noodles? Not only who makes one, but who brings scrap leather and leather tools on a 'vacation'?

Not a good idea for my three boys to share a twin-size bed like they share the full-size bed at home. I do not like being woken up in the night by a two year old who made a very loud bump sound as his body fell to the floor. At least my insistence that they NOT BE ALLOWED to sleep together on the top bunk was heeded.

You would think with the improvement money that has been paid into this resort over the years, there should be no need for a cookie sheet to prop open the same window that has been propped open by a cookie sheet for THIRTY ONE YEARS.

You know you have a lot of kids when all of their wash rags can't even fit on the same rack.

While speaking of these wash rags. These are the ones that are purchased compacted together and you place them in water to see them 'expand.' The kids thought it was fun to fill the tub and watch all five of them expand at the same time. Fine. No big deal. Except the two year old thinks a filled tub means it is time for a bath and promptly takes off all his clothes and insists he gets in. The children oblige him. The two year old gets in, and promptly pees in the filled with water (and new washcloths) bath tub.

Nothing thrills me more than to hear other children fighting at the resort park below my bedroom window. I love having it reaffirmed to me that I'm not the only one with children who don't always get along well.

My cheapness was confirmed as I put all five kids on the merry-go-round together to maximize my 50 cents.

Vacations are questionable. Have tired, ornery children and a chaotic life at home, or somewhere different?

Of course one only has to look here at the following photos to see it really was a swell week...

I mean look at that love. How could it not have been a good week?

(Drew and Cousin Annie)

There Is No Such Thing

A HUGE pet peeve of mine every single summer is the question my children are asked by what seems like everyone and anyone. Whether it is the dental hygienist, or the grocery store clerk it seems everyone is so quick to ask, "What vacations do you have planned this summer?"

Every time, my children look at them with a blank stare until I jump in and give the standard in a nutshell answer, "We tend to do our vacations in the winter, my husband is a landscaper. Summer is not an easy time to take a vacation."

And though it is probably hard for you to believe... I give this standard answer in a why-are-you-rubbing-it-in-that-my-children-feel-as-though-they-are-the-only-ones-who-don't-get-a-summer-trip.-Besides-is-it-really-any-of-your-business-type-voice?

Inevitably, my children always seem to remind me, "Well, we do go to Park City." And I grin through gritted teeth as I am painfully reminded of the 'trip' we take each summer to the same condo Mike has been coming to since 1980! On a positive note, my children consider it a vacation. But in my opinion, it is not a vacation or even a 'trip' when my husband still commutes daily to work...

It's a long story how a week in Park City has become a yearly (dare I say the word) tradition for my children. But I can admit, that for me-yes me-who is usually so big on establishing a family culture chock full of family traditions, has a dreaded disdain for the summer week in Park City.

This year I found myself constantly harassing Mike about what he did as a kid for a whole week in the same condo my children now inhabit. What did your Mom do? What about your Dad? Did he work shorter hours? Who took you swimming? Were you allowed to wander around by yourself? Did your mother constantly entertain you? Did you do this? Did you do that?

Two days into this week-long 'tradition', my mother-in-law sent her wishes for us to have a relaxing week in Park City. RELAXING? My mother-in-law has obviously been in the empty nest stage for a long time. I can't imagine she really, truly looks back at the weeks spent in this condo with her five children as RELAXING.

Though I can't help but wonder what exactly is relaxing and 'vacationy' about being here, we are here nonetheless. And lest you think any of these pictures show blissful family togetherness, you can be assured that it is because of the beauty of still camera shots versus a home video that it looks like we are one big happy family on vacation.

I have to include this photo, as it is a great exmple of the beauty of a still camera shot versus a home video. Or you would be hearing Mike's commentary, "Reading isn't a punishment, it is just a good way to get away from the other siblings for a while to calm down."  (I'm putting that mildly... it wasn't quite that pleasant of an exchange.)

A vacation?
Yeah, whatever.

Insert Smiley Face

I knew I had spent far too much time in the dentist waiting room the other week when I finished one copy of a Good Housekeeping magazine, and was moving on to the second. Despite the final dentist verdict following three kids check-ups were: one with three cavities, one needing sealant on permanent molars, and one whose loose tooth was confirmed. I felt happy. I'll tell you why.

I read an article on happiness, and I realized I am happy. And that realization felt so good! Now, don't get me wrong, I have days that it would be difficult to even pretend to have a smile on my face, and there are definite moments (and days) of discouragement and despair, but I can honestly say I feel happy. I am a firm believer that happiness doesn't come easily--it is a daily, constant battle, but a battle that I'm gaining the upper hand at. (Wish I could say that about all the 'battles' I'm fighting!)

Between the dentist office's magazine, and a little good 'ole evaluation, these are a few of the reasons I feel that I can be happy amid the not so happy things in life.

Gratitude -- For several years it seemed every so often I had a reminder to start a gratitude journal. In addition to my personal journal by my bed, I felt the need to have just a 'Gratitude Journal', where each night I wrote just "I'm grateful for..." I had heard all sorts of statistics about how being grateful can change one's whole outlook on life. But for some reason, I kept putting the journal off, until an experience a few years ago. I was in a leadership position in my church, and had the responsibility to take some food and briefly visit the family of a family member who had just passed away, at their own hands. A sad situation. For days, I couldn't stop thinking of the tragedy, that for whatever reason, someone felt such despair that they chose to end their life. During those days, I felt an overwhelming gratitude for a healthy mind. And so with no further ado, I purchased an attractive notebook and wrote my first entry: "Grateful for a healthy mind." Now the notebook has a permanent place on my bedside dresser and I try to write in it daily.

Now, don't get me wrong. Believe me, there are some days the only entry I can come up with are, "Grateful the day is over." or "Grateful my kids are asleep and I don't have to interact with any of them for several hours." But--even at the end of 'one of those days' and especially at the end of 'those types of days', I force myself to find something to be grateful for. And there is always something.

Relationships--The particular article I read referred to a study that claimed if you have at least five close people that you can share personal information with, you are more likely to be happy. I have been blessed to have some really great close friends and my relationship with Mike is one that is deeply satisfying and fulfilling. I am certainly blessed to have at least five close people I can share my deepest thoughts, fears, and dreams with. I can think of several people I have spent time with in the last few weeks either crying, laughing, speculating, dreaming, or planning. For this I feel truly blessed.

Exercise--I really can't believe I'm even considering this as a contributor to my happiness, but I do. It isn't that I love exercise and have a big smile on my face as I'm breathing hard and dripping sweat. The opposite is true, ask my regular exercise partner Lori how many times I say, "I hate running" or "I hate exercising" during our sessions. BUT, I have clearly found over the last year that regular exercise makes a HUGE difference to my mental health. For me, the satisfaction from exercise doesn't come while I'm doing it, it comes when I look in the mirror some days and feel discouraged by my flubby tummy, or my saggy arms and think, "At least I'm doing something about it, sometimes." God has blessed me with very good health--I enjoy the peace of mind that comes from knowing I try to remain active and healthy. (Even if I do enjoy dessert a little too much!)

Enjoying the moments--I know, I know, I sound like a broken record in this department, so I'll be brief... Since I have made a more conscious effort to really truly be more present in moments, it has made a world of difference. There is so much happiness and joy that can come from the little things in life. I give the credit entirely to Mike for helping me see this.

Acceptance--"Be yourself, every one else is taken" I'm not quite sure exactly when, I think perhaps it has been a gradual process over the last ten years or so, but I have reached a point in my life where I have accepted myself for who I am, and accepted my circumstances for what they are.  Of course there are still qualities I'm striving to achieve and some I'm working to get rid of, but I am who I am.  "Today you are you, that is truer than true, there's no one alive who is you-er than you."

I've had an 'underlying relationship snag' that has sort of ruled my world for most of my adult life. It has always seemed a thorn in my side, and finally last year as it resurfaced yet again during a particular situation, Mike gave me some grand advice. I took his advice and have felt more liberated because of it. In essence Mike's advice was similar to this quote I was reminded of just this morning, "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter." (Of course all done within reason and tact, but you get the general idea...)

Priorities--For the most part, I work very hard to make sure my priorities are aligned correctly. I know what is important to me and my little family, and I'll do what I need to, to put those things first. Sometimes I'm too strict in this area and often hear from my dear husband, "Can't you be more flexible?"

(Which totally off the subject, but along the 'being flexible lines'--when I was SEVEN months pregnant with Ellie, Mike was doing Yoga in our basement with his brother and sister-in-law. (My sis-in-law was convinced Yoga would help Mike's back.) I don't think Mike lasted five minutes--he can't even sit cross-legged--but me, SEVEN months pregnant was more flexible than all three of them put together! Of course that was seven plus years ago--I don't know as I can make that same claim. Well, I can against Mike--I am more PHYSICALLY flexible than him.)

Oh dear, I digress--back to prioritizing...
I'm not afraid to tell somebody 'no' and I try my hardest to rarely do anything out of obligation. I allow myself time to think about what I want to commit to, and for the most part we keep our commitments to others simple. One of my favorite things is empty space on our calendar.

Believe me, I am not the master of happiness, but overall, I would certainly consider myself 'Happy'.  I recognize so much more than the few things I listed above, as to why I feel optimism, happiness and joy in my life. I am truly blessed. There is so much despair, heartache, pain, and gloom that exists in the world, in our own little communities, in our own families, and our own lives. But happiness is within our reach. Now if I could master a few of these:

--thinking more positively

--letting go of perfectionism in some areas

--loving others a little more

--being less judgemental

I could probably be even happier, ...but I'm not exactly a miracle worker.

Happiness.
Are you happy?
What makes you happy?
What could make you happIER?

Oh What Do You Do

One of my favorite Primary Songs from a child is the oldie "Oh What Do You Do In The Summertime?". I have loved singing it in Primary a couple of times this summer. Apart from posing the question once on our chalkboard in the upstairs hall, I don't think of the song very often, but I was THRILLED when Joshua and Ellie sat eating breakfast the other morning on the bar stools and Joshua turned to Ellie and asked, (quoting part of the song)
"Do you want to count all the stars in the sky?"
to which Ellie replied,
"That's impossible Joshua!" "But we could (quoting the song) 'Swim in a pool to keep ourselves cool', can we Mom?"

So-
What Do WE Do In The Summertime?

This year there have been far fewer outings and field trips, but we're doing things like:

Making impromptu, last minute trips to some water fountains at a nearby park.

We attend neighborhood parties with bands playing (and get blurry pictures because Megan and her Cousin Ben dance partner are swing dancing way too fast!).

We spend afternoons in the canyon with extended family, evenings on driveways with neighbors, hours on  back patios visiting with friends, kids splash and get wet, we read books, we do crafts, we clean toilets, we fight and argue,

These are lazy days of summer. So lazy in fact, that I rarely even grab a camera, but occasionally grab my cell phone to take pictures instead (thus the above quality!).

This week I had only two "have to's" on my calendar and it thrilled me.  Our long, lazy, days of summer are numbered, so we'll keep doing what we're doing for just a little longer, before real life kicks in again.

Lazy Summer Days.
Nothing quite compares.

Slow and Steady

Growing up, my mother always said, "If a jobs worth doing, it's worth doing well." As a mother, I have come to completely disagree with that cliche. Sometimes a job just needs to get done--and so I do it. Some jobs just need to be barely done, so I barely put the effort in, and race through the task. Mike is the exact opposite to me in this way. It comes out glaringly in may ways. For example, when Mike and I weed the flower or vegetable gardens together. After thirty minutes Mike will still be in his small section of the dirt and it will look beautiful. No weeds, in the dark, lush dirt he has overturned and refreshed. My section? Well I pull weeds that I see anywhere in the garden. I just pull. And even though I may have the same amount of weeds in my weed pail as Mike, I've done the essentials of 'doing' the job: ie pulling the weeds, but Mike has done the 'worth doing well' part of the job with the end result of not just pulled weeds, but his section looking far more pleasing to the eye than mine.

The other day at the dentist, (and I'm only brave enough to admit this so publicly because my friend Laurie has the exact same diagnosis and admitted the same thing recently too!) they told me my gums are receding because I brush my teeth too quickly and vigorously, and need to slow down. Again, I do the job to get the job done. My quick and vigorous brushing, could quite possibly be blamed on the fact that as soon as a toothbrush is sloshing around my foamed up with toothpaste mouth, all five children inevitably seem to need urgent responses and attention. Is it any wonder I brush quickly and vigorously when I need to urgently respond to queries such as,  "Can we have an ice cream cone for breakfast?" or "Is it okay if Drew comes outside to play with me even though he took off his diaper?"

My friend and exercise partner, Lori, and I have become a little lax on our exercise-running-routine lately. We spent too many weeks embracing our disdain for running, and have walked in place of running far too much. With an upcoming race on HER horizon (Thank goodness I have a water fear, or she'd surely be making me do the triathalon with her!), we've decided the last few times to run more. As the end of our painful running sessions loom closer, (I really dislike running! Why do I do it?) and the exhaustion and soreness sets in, Lori and I have two different styles. Lori likes to slow her pace down. I want to speed up. I want to race as fast as I can to the finish line just to get the pain over with. But what I guess comes down to mutual respect and common courtesy, and the enjoyment of being together, we stick together. I slow down more than I'd like, Lori doesn't slow down as much as she'd like to, but for the most part we stick side-by-side.

Just the other day, Lori and I were both exhausted. Without either of us voicing it, we both wanted to quit running before the end. Lori began to slow down and 'knowing my preference' kindly said, "Go ahead and run fast to get it over with, and just wait for me at the end." I wasn't going to leave her, instead, I slowed down and said, "Slow and steady wins the race."

And that morning run provided a much needed epiphany for me.
"Slow and steady wins the race."

Not that I'm trying to 'win' the race, I just want to finish the course. Slow and steady will finish the course.

I'm not just talking flower gardens or teeth brushing or painful morning runs. I'm talking raising my children, learning the gospel, teaching my children all the qualities I think they need, working on my own goals and aspirations, financial security, making sure kids reach academic milestones, etc. etc.

I am always in a RUSH. Always in a hurry. I am impatient. My morning run last week made me re-read the old classic, 'The Tortoise and the Hare.' The moral of the classic story is the same encouragement Mike already seems to have mastered and frequently and kindly reminds me, "Slow and steady." Everything takes time, even life. I'm going to be more patient with the things I really can't control, I'm going to be a little more like Mike, and my good friend Lori, I'm going to slow down and realize some things take time.