A Different Kind of Photography Experience

Quick note: If you read my blog in a reader and it's been a while since you visited, come see the new layout. And by layout, I really mean new header and font colors. Nothing too fancy schmancy.

A couple of months ago, we had a fabulous afternoon. And Gina of Golden June Photography came along and took pictures to document it. I love how the pictures turned out. Even more, I loved the relaxed, happy atmosphere of the shoot. I love that there is light in my children's eyes and that, beyond just taking great pictures, Gina was able to capture our family's personality so brilliantly.

It was a great contrast to previous photography experiences we've had -- the weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth, the feeling of being at the mercy of the photographer while he/she works hard to get our (silly, busy, crazy) family to sit still in order to get the perfect shot. I've never been able to convey to a photographer that I'm less interested in the perfect shot than I am in the perfect picture -- an accurate and happy representation of my family in that moment in time. There was no conveying necessary with Gina. She simply followed our lead and our energy. It was wonderful.

I'm in love with these pictures.

(Click to make it big.)

Visit Gina's blog to see some of her other work. She is a brilliant and talented photographer and I'm grateful that she took the time to practice on us.

Our Time Amongst the Goblins

Last weekend we went with some of JDub's siblings to camp in Goblin Valley. We had a ball. What a fun, magical place! It was hot, but not nearly as hot as we had anticipated because of some good cloud cover and even some rain.

My early risers had a grand time playing in the morning. We went on a little hike and played in the dirt at our camp. I love how Scud is all arms and legs right now.

Kaitybean and Scud were fearless climbers. This shot does not give nearly enough perspective. They were really up there!

Here's me, goddess of the rain, in the actually Valley of Goblins. We were playing commando and I was, um, something. Basically the one who got to count and didn't have to run and climb all over.

Cute, fun people in a cave at the wall. Mashuga and Coco are on the left. JDub's brother and wife on the right and his youngest brother's fiance in the middle.

Happy, happy, happy...

JDub enjoyed his Vibram 5-finger shoes while here. Like being barefoot, except for the barefoot part.

A couple of cuties and a very pregnant weirdo.

By the time we were done, Rusty was EXHAUSTED! What this picture doesn't show is the major shaking the boys are getting as she pants and pants and pants. She was pretty hot. We gave her water while we were exploring but she still drank a good half gallon when we were done.

Rusty wasn't the only tired one. Though if you'd asked Coco at this moment whether or not he was tired, he would have said no. Ha! He slept soundly the entire 4+ hour ride home.

All in all a successful camping trip. I only had to walk the 50 yards or so to the bathrooms about 4 times during the night. Didn't sleep much. But, I don't sleep much at home these days. So might as well not sleep somewhere beautiful, eh?

2nd Annual Women's Retreat

Self Portrait

Otherwise titled: I am related to some of the coolest women in the whole world.

So, last year I came up with the crazy idea to start an annual women's retreat on the last weekend of September. We would have a potluck dinner, do some bonding stuff, talk, eat chocolate, talk more, do yoga, eat more chocolate, sleep a little, get out and do something fun and then attend the LDS General Relief Society Broadcast together.

My wonderful sister, sisters-in-law and my mother were all willing to humor me and go along with my zany ideas. Even when some of my planned activities meant some stretching outside of comfort zones. It was a blast.

This year was even better. We did yoga under the stars; we talked and laughed; we drew with chalk pastels; we did pedicures; we did a service project; went out to eat and then attended the RS broadcast where we were spiritually filled and nourished.


Just like last year, my marvelous SIL Trishelle hosted and was the ultimate hostess.

Paper Waiting For Our Chalky Creativity

My Picture of "Who I Am In This Moment"

JDub's mother was even here from Germany, which made it extra special.

And the best part, I think, was kidnapping Alisa our soon-to-be sister-in-law in the middle of the night for a moonlight induction ceremony. There were crazy crowns, there was face painting, there was laughter and frolicking and scarf dancing and singing. It was a splendid time.

See for yourself.

Getting Ready For the Kidnapping

My Beautiful Emily and I

Lovely Co-Conspirators: Em, Trish and Heather

Kidnapping With a Smile

Waiting, Waiting For Who Knows What (She was actually worried!)

And the Painting, Oh the Painting

See How Happy She Is To Be One Of Us?!?

Gorgeous: Jamie and Trishelle

Sisters Forevah

Dancing...

...and Frolicking

Laughing...

...and More Craziness

I adore these women. We have been there for each other through the good, the bad and the ugly. They have taught me and trusted me with their children and nurtured mine. They love me just as I am, crazy and all. They make me feel like a little girl again. I don't know how much more blessed I can be. How many people are fortunate enough to not only be born into a family with the most wonderful mother and sister ever, but to also gain such amazing sisters through marriage?

We are already making plans for next year's retreat. It will be September 25 and 26. Trishelle may host again or we may rent a house in SL. Either way, I promise it will be fun and well worth your time. Put it on your calendar and let me know if you'd like an invite. This is an open invitation to all our friends and family.

I don't think we'll wake you up at 3am and paint your face, but I can't make any promises.

Oh, and for a more thorough (and very entertaining) run-down of events and more pictures, see Trish's post: My Glorious Sisters and our Second Annual Girl's Retreat...

With Love For a Good, Good Man

This weekend we travel south for the funeral of a great man. JDub's grandpa passed away Tuesday morning and we will all be gathering together to celebrate his wonderful life and to love and comfort one another.
JDub had the opportunity to go see him and say goodbye on Monday evening. He said it was one of the sweetest, most spiritual experiences he has ever had. I have heard many people say that, as with birth, there is a special spirit around death. Because, like a birth, it is the crossing of a threshold from one life into the next. I am certain that the spirits of those who love us and who have gone before and will come after are present to guide us and comfort us. What a sweet thing it is, this graduation from one part of our existence to another.
So, it is sad for us, but we are so happy for him. His body has been failing him for many years, his mind also. It was difficult to watch his mounting frustration at being unable to work and accomplish things the way he always had. Then, we watched him slip farther away into a confused complacency as he lost touch with time and space and the identities of those around him. I told JDub that I haven't been very sad this week, because I don't think I could miss him more now than I have for quite a while. He hasn't been the grandpa I fell in love with for a few years now.
And speaking of the grandpa I fell in love with, I've been thinking of a few memories I have about him.

• He was a writer, so we were instant friends on that subject. I remember talking with him about trusting myself as a writer. He told me about how characters would put themselves in his head and he couldn't shake them and how often, once he really knew the characters in his stories, they would simply write the story for him.
• As for stories, he was also a storyteller. I loved to hear him tell his stories, his voice rising and falling, his eyes twinkling, his face aglow when he knew he had a captive audience. I especially remember one of the first stories he told me about his mission in Brazil when, with his halting German, he tried to tell a family about the end of a movie he'd recently seen. The main character had shot himself to death. Grandpa accidentally told them that he had sh*t himself to death. I can still hear him laughing and see the tears forming in his eyes as re-lived the humor of that moment. Grandpa had a marvelous sense of humor.
• He was a worker. Until he absolutely, physically could not do it he always had a garden. He grew everything he could, composted, kept his yard neat and clean. I know where my husband gets his work ethic (well, it comes from both sides) and I can definitely see him at 80 working from dawn until dusk and never really "retiring."
• He was a thoroughly devoted father and husband and treasured his family. Even those of us who came into his family through marriage were made to feel so loved and precious. He was so wonderful to his wife, calling her his queen, his sweetheart, always grateful for the many things she did to make their home heaven and to make life better for him. He had a very tender, loving soul.
• He was one of those people who know that the joy is in the journey. He knew it. The joy wasn't in the end of the day after the work, or the family reunion after the raising of children. He seemed to always find joy in the doing, in every moment of his life that I witnessed. He was a happy person by choice and such a bright example to me.

So, I will certainly miss Grandpa Knight. The only biological grandpa I ever knew died when I was six years old. So, after I married JDub, I was thrilled to adopt Grandpa Knight as my own. He has been a marvelous blessing in my life and in the lives of my children. I will miss seeing him at family reunions, miss driving to Cedar City to see him and help him work in his garden. I will miss his stories and his smile and his infectious laugh. But I can't mourn too much, because I am happy for him. Glad that he is free of a broken body and with those who love him. I am sure he is already at work, preparing a place for the rest of us to follow him.

Pachelbel Family Routine

You may have already seen this. But, my BIL emailed it to me and I absolutely had to share it here.

Bragging Rights

Marrying JDub was one of the best decisions of my life. I am so grateful to be sharing this life with him.

And, on top of that, marrying him came with five big bonuses -- his brothers.

You see, getting married was kind of hard on me in ways. All of my very best friends were boys before I got married. I always had an easier time relating to and being friends with boys.

So, to get married and instantly have five brothers to play with has been a huge blessing for me. I just adore my brothers-in-law, all of them and all for different reasons.

And one other bonus was that, in one instance I got to keep one of my best favorite guy friends, too. JDub's younger brother, we'll call him Kiki (because that's what my kids call him), and I have known each other and been friends for nearly as long as JDub and I have.

In fact, I dated Kiki more than I dated JDub before we were engaged. And I kissed Kiki before I kissed JDub. (Yes, there is a Soap Opera Sunday post there. Wait for it.) Trust me. We are incessantly needled about this by our family. And we both take it good-naturedly in stride.

But, really, Kiki has always been one of my favorite people. Large chunks of our relationship consisted of commiserating over the fact that those who would end up being our spouses were so blind to our amazingness. And we were always able to talk and to laugh together. I have always considered him to be a kindred spirit, a dear friend.

I used to puzzle (and still do sometimes) over why I had such strong romantic feelings for JDub (who pretty much ignored me, other than letters, until after his mission) and not for Kiki (who was always fun, kind, friendly, attentive). Who knows. But we are all happy with who we are, where we are, so it seems silly now to ask why.

So, getting back to the point of this post...

This week I have been flashing back to a night almost 13 years ago. Kiki and I were sitting together on a patch of grass with a few other people and he was rubbing my shoulders. I'm not sure how it came up (probably it was because I told him how good he was at massage) but he told me that he wanted to be a chiropractor when he grew up. Very cool, I thought and filed it away. I still remember that conversation and how sure he was of who he wanted to be, what he wanted to do.

Fast forward about 6 or 7 years. JDub and I were sharing a house with Kiki and his wife. Scud was still a baby and their oldest daughter had just been born. Kiki was just finishing up his degree in massage therapy. And he was good at it. Partly because of the techniques he'd learned in school, but I think mostly because of his natural healing touch and sensitivity.

He finished his degree as a MT and also his prerequisite work at UVSC. About a year later their family packed up and moved to Oregon. You guessed it. For chiropractic school.

I remember thinking then, "Wow. He's wanted to do this for a long time and he's doing it."

Grad school took years, as grad school always does. It felt a bit like time warped and slowed down. And that's just for me. I'm sure it was even more so for his wonderful, supportive wife (who is also one of my best friends and the one who introduced me to both JDub and Kiki).

But through all of the years, his vision has remained steady and he's continued to put one foot in front of the other toward his goal.

So, it is with much joy and pride in my wonderful friend that I just have to brag for him.

He is now a full-fledged chiropractor. The tests have all been passed. He has finished his internship (apprenticeship, residency -- hit me over the head and tell me the right word to put here Kiki). He is state-licensed.

I am thrilled for him, for his beautiful wife and his three darling daughters.

You've made it! Hooray! Congratulations!

So consider this both a flashback and a flash forward. A flashback to my wonderful friend, who I am lucky enough to now have as a brother. And a flash forward to the marvelous man he will continue to be and the success I am sure he will enjoy. He is truly a gifted man, a natural healer and a fantastic chiropractor.

I can't wait to see what comes next.

And for those of you who are local and could use a good chiropractor, you can check out his website here. He's worth the visit.

Life Outside the Box

Things are less than magical at our house lately.

Life has been closing in on us rather rapidly as of late. We are all feeling the pressure.

JDub is stressed to the breaking point. Maybe past it.

Our children are languishing. They are fed, loved, taken care of. But still, so much is missing. I see it in their eyes and feel it in the way they talk, the way they interact with one another.

And me. Oh. I feel like I spend more time reading about your lives than I do living my own. I keep seeking some refuge, some friendship, something more in this vast network of souls from around the world. It has served me well -- guiding me to amazing, wonderful people, returning me to old and cherished friends. But, my real life has been calling.

And I have been feeling so lost for quite some time. Confused, discouraged, disappointed that the road I had been treading has come to a fork and I have been unsure which way to turn.

I have been paused at the crossroads for quite some time, trusting that my heart would find a way, trusting that I don't have to DO anything to make it better. I have simply to be, to trust, to listen and live for this moment.

And it turns out that this is also my answer for the road ahead. Not plunging headlong into new territory or seeking for help or answers.

My heroes journey lies close to my home, close to my heart. And my task for now is not more, not bravery or speed or motion. My call right now is less. It is quiet. It is nurturing and building the space around me, remembering how to be "just" a mom again, remembering how to love it.

I keep thinking of this period of my life as prelude to my actual, real life. I've been waiting for the time when I get to do all the things I want to do for myself -- things motherhood and wifehood and housekeeping hold me back from.

Tonight I realize that this IS my life, this IS what I want to be doing more than anything else in the world. And if I live right now with open arms and really dive into my life, I won't care whether or not I ever do anything else. Truly, if I knew that, in giving up everything, I could have my family whole and well and happy, I would give up the world and everything in it.

I keep wanting to be big, to do something great. Why not this? Why not be great at life, at now, at building the only things that last, that will never be lost to me -- my marriage, my family, my home, my heart.

I will never hug these children again. Never. They always keep growing. My four year old Mashuga will not be here to play with me in ten years when I finally "have time". I must, must, must play with him NOW. NOW is all I have any guarantee of.

So, I may return to some of my extracurricular activities. These things I "love". Birthing From Within. Doula Work. Blogging. Yahoo groups. Poetry.

But I feel that it is time to step away with an attitude of never looking back. If I never mentor another class or write another blog post or attend another birth or read another email or write another poem and I have saved my family, loved them thoroughly, I will be joyous beyond words. I will not have missed the things that really do matter.

It's funny, if I knew that by giving my life, I could save one of my children, I would do it. Without pause. Without question.

I could do anything to save my child. Why not this? Why not life? Why not living with them again, being their mother -- truly, deeply.

This is what my soul is calling out for me to do. And it feels so foreign, this deep desire, thirst for less. To do nothing extra.

I could undertake an epic journey if called to do so.

But, to sit, to live my life -- moment to moment -- this is a challenge for me.

I'm ready to take it.

Less Than Two Days

My sister is getting married in less than two days! Friday morning! I'm so giddy for her.

I've been working all day on a slideshow for her reception. I'm excited about it.

Now, if I can just get my family over the stomach bug we all seem to have contracted. By Friday. That would be niiiiiice.

Unexpectedly Grateful Moments

A list of just a few moments in my life that were difficult at the time, but that I'm very grateful for now.

1. When I found out, at 16, that my boyfriend was dating someone else. It was sad, but also a feeling of complete freedom. It was like my body, mind and spirit all heaved a great sigh of relief. It was over. I was no longer bound to that destructive, abusive relationship. My life began in that moment.

2. Fifteen minutes before Scud was born when I was absolutely certain that I wanted an epidural and my midwife said "It's too late for that." That moment led to me giving birth to Scud without medication, which was very empowering and led to deep study and preparation for Mashuga's birth. That terrifying moment was the beginning of the path I've taken and the reason I am fortunate enough to do the deep, fulfilling work with women that I do today.

3. At 17 when a boy I was dating (and really liked) told me that he couldn't date me anymore because he'd made a mistake and had sex with another girl. He said that I deserved better and that I was not that kind of a girl. I will love him forever for that decision. I might have forgiven him and still dated him, but he really saw me. He saw who I was and who I wanted to be and knew that he wasn't right for me and that I needed someone else. That is perhaps one of the most selfless and compassionate things that any person has ever done for me. I still see him sometimes, as he was walking away in tears and I want to reach through the years and embrace him to thank him for giving me some of the best gifts he could have given me -- gifts of myself, my future -- whole and unsullied, the gift of profound respect.

4. My worst date ever, also my first date and first date with JDub. For some reason that terrible experience made me realize that this skinny, blond kid was worth hanging on to. And I knew, somehow, that our worst date was behind us.

5. The moment I lay on an ultrasound table, searching with my midwife for the flicker of a heartbeat and hearing the words "I'm sorry. There's no heartbeat." Surrendering to this experience tore me wide open. In the years since, gallons of years of unacknowledged grief have come spilling out of the hole created by that moment. Grace, compassion, gratitude and joy have come rushing in to fill the void.

6. When I was six and my Grandpa collapsed in my backyard, then died a few hours later. This was my first of many experiences with death. It cemented my faith in the eternal nature of souls and families. It taught me to not be afraid of death, of endings. And it helped me appreciate the gift of a loving family.

Itty Bitty Reunion Report

It was a good weekend. I was very surprised by just how much I enjoyed our family reunion. I realized that I actually really like this motley crew I call my family. Granted, some of them look like the type of people I wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley, but they all love me and each other and when it comes down to it, are good people. I was surprised by how warmly I felt toward everyone and how genuinely glad I was to be around this crazy family of mine.

I was especially glad to see some of my family that I haven't seen for over a decade.

Then there was my cousin, C, who is witty, warm and welcoming. One of my favorite people and its been forever since I saw him. A couple of my favorite quote from him:

Speaking (very lovingly) of one of our other cousins:
"Well, you know, that gray matter isn't magically going to come to life with age."

and

Speaking (perhaps less lovingly) of one of our cousins with whom he hasn't always gotten along:
"Are you kidding, I haven't seen him for 16, 17, 18 years. I had to come. Couldn't miss it. It's like a trip to the zoo."

My Dad's cousin J.R. and his family I especially haven't seen for a long time and it was wonderful to see them. He has a son, F, who is my age and has just always been uber-cool to me. Still is. He now works for Policy Today and will be taking a break from his job soon to take a long biking trip through Italy and Croatia with his girlfriend and her parents. Yeah, an interesting glimpse at the road not taken.

I'd be tempted to regret my life choices and wonder at "what ifs," but I've got these cool kids.

Coco was passed around and around, of course, as babies always are at family functions. Everyone oohed and ahhed over how pretty he is.

Kaitybean got to spend some time with J, one of my cousin's daughters who was born just a month after Kaitybean. They had a ball. They made a dam with JDub, rode bikes, climbed trees, got dirty and sang Hillary Duff and Britney Spears songs for all of us.

Scud was his usual blend of kookiness and timidity. He contorted his face for the camera, rode scooters all over and was just his wonderful, ever-present self. Watching and enjoying it all. Just taking it all in. Sure love him.

Mashuga was, of course, the star of the party. He tends to do that. Things just kind of turn into the Mashuga show. This was no exception. Just after dinner, they started karaoke. Well, Mashuga got up on the stage with the microphone and talked and welcomed everyone. Then, he sang a rousing rendition of "A Young Man Prepared". Nothing like a good church song to start off a night of inebriated karaoke.

But then, oh then, he got up and danced while someone else was singing.

It was hilarious, I tell you. Hil.ar.i.ous. This kid can move. And then, he turned around and did his little bum shake. Nobody expected it and we all laughed like crazy.

Videos and pictures are forthcoming. They just happen to be on JDub's computer, which is at work with him.

Don't worry, bloggy friends. I will not deprive you. You MUST see this.

And as we were leaving, my cousin C gave me one of the best compliments he ever could have given.

"I love your kids," he told me.

Then, at my shocked look he insisted, "Really. You have really great kids. They're normal kids, of course, but compared to a lot they are really well-behaved. And they're so much fun and so friendly and comfortable with people."

Ahhhhhh.......

Just hearing that made the whole trip worthwhile.

Fluffy Love

Okay, before I say anything else, I have to post these pictures.


Is this not the cutest puppy you have ever seen? My brother and his wife just got a puppy and sent us an email showing him/her off. I'm already in love. Mashuga's going to flip.

So, on another front, my body is really surprising me. You may not want to know, but hey, I want to tell, so... Skip this paragraph if you're uninterested in my body's functioning. I have never started cycling sooner than about 12 months after any of my babies. But, guess what? This morning I started. Weird. Coco is only 6 months old.

The only thing I can attribute it to is that this baby REALLY likes food. All of my other babies weren't really here or there with solid food. They would rather nurse. But, Coco likes to eat whatever we're eating. So, we don't nurse as often. Interesting.

So, now I'm back to the ever-confusing birth control decisions. I have this thing. I HATE birth control. For one, chemical birth control has this funny thing about making me, um, SUICIDAL. So, not an option. Tried the IUD and it was painful -- all the time. My favorite form of birth control is actually the fertility awareness method, as explained here. But then there's the whole nursing, cosleeping babe thing and I worry about my temps being inaccurate. But, enough about me and my fertility...

Let's talk about my family. My Dad's extended family is having a reunion for the first time in about a decade. So, we are going tomorrow. I'm filled with equal parts excitement and dread. I'll have to let you know how it goes.

Also, JDub's parents are here from Germany. So, we'll try to spend as much time as is possible with them this weekend.

I still haven't finished my last post. There was stuff I wanted to tell you. Ah, well... Some day.

Yesterday, by the way, was one of those "Mashuga's lucky to still be alive kind of days. But we got the messes cleaned up, the neighbor's dogs back in their yard and the screen he thrashed can be replaced... We've gone back to the "No leaving Mom or Dad's sight" rule for a while. He's sitting here dejectedly waiting for me to finish and help him pack for Grandma's house.

I hope you have a marvelous weekend!

Life is What Happens When You are Busy Making Other Plans

So, here are the goings on as of late.

Rusty, ever the destructo dog, ate an entire tube of this
today while we were gone. I know. Ewwwww!

So, why were we gone? We went to see my sweet new niece, Evie and her mommy (who is one of my best friends and favorite people). I also had the honor of being there for her birth. She is beautiful and tiny, 6lb 3 oz and 19 1/2 inches long and just perfect. I am so impressed by her mom. I got to do some work with her and her husband before the birth and I was amazed by her faith and her determination and strength in doing just what was right for her and Evie. And this was the FASTEST birth I've ever attended. (For you birth junkies, she was started on pitocin at 9am, received an epidural at 9:20 and her baby was born at 11:58. Wow.) What a beautiful gift it was to witness a miracle yesterday.

I have begun waking up at 5:30 each morning to go running, do yoga, read, pray and get a jump on the day. I've always considered myself more of a night owl, but it has been heavenly to be awake just as the sun is coming up and step out into the newness of a cool morning. I've found myself more than happy to go to bed earlier at night and more invigorated and productive throughout the day. I'm surprised as you are. But, I've loved this.

I have more to tell you about, but must get to it later. Right now life is calling -- diapers to be changed, dinner to be made, kids to hug.

Working Toward Beautiful

The bleach has not made it out of the closet yet, even though everyone is back to normal now. (Well, Scud's nose may still be broken, but...) As happens often, my poet self has subjected my housecleaning self to her will. If only I could spin the magic of a lovely, clean house in words. Trust me, people would be begging to tour my home at all hours. :) If I could learn to give my full attention and joy to my home the way I give it to my poetry, life would be different around here. But, alas, I must embrace the gifts I have and hope to continue developing other abilities.

The mop bucket really will find its way out of hiding today.

Promise.

For now, I want to share something I wrote today. It is long. It's rough, but it made me feel happy and wriggly and light. I hope it does the same for you.

Working Toward Beautiful

I was never that kind of pageant girl.
My mother didn't cake my face with makeup
or dress me like a Vegas show girl
at five years old.
But I do remember standing in the hall,
playing fives with Daddy
just before I pranced onto the stage
in the ballroom of the Marriott.

And I can still recall
growing up surrounded
by What gorgeous eyes she has.
and What a pretty little girl.
Thank heaven for my mother
who cocooned me in gentle reminders.
What matters it that you're beautiful inside.
What matters is how you treat people.
And my vanity was kept in check.
Until I turned fourteen
and I was very vain.

But soon I knew.

I didn't want to be a vase
beautiful to look at but mostly pointless
if not graced by flowers
of kindness, knowledge,
strength, serenity.

And so I spurn the pages of Glamour,
dismiss the beauty tips in Vogue
and look for a higher paradigm of loveliness.

Like Doris, who once told me
I am grateful for the life I've lived,
words that didn't need to be uttered.
They were written in the stillness of her blue eyes
and in the skin around them
carved through, like clay,
with rivulets of joy and pain.

And gentle Clara, crowned by snow white hair,
her blessed hands bear the spots of age.
Her fingers are bent, spindly,
a testament to tireless hours,
holding fourteen children,
kneading bread dough with love,
wisely canning peaches.
I'm sure those hands have dried a million tears.

And Linda, whose carriage calls out volumes
about loving the moment,
feeling satisfied with what is.
Her deep voice lulls and comforts,
each word singing songs
of compassion and understanding.

These women know secrets
that beauty editors will never tell.

So now I stand,
staring at my reflection in a stolen moment,
making peace
learning to love
a waist gone soft,
and hips spread wide,
stretch marks running over all
like lines of a map
showing the journey I've taken
giving life to four souls,
loving and losing an angel.
Breasts no longer firm and buoyant,
but hanging low and soft
from years of tender service
as babes grew to children.
I smile at the silver
streaking liberally
through waves of mahogany.
Squinting, I search for wrinkles
around my eyes
in my forehead.
What stories they call back to me
of care and concern, love, patience, worry.
I notice for the first time,
my eyelids are more wrinkled, sunken
than they were a decade ago
and gladly embrace the wrinkles
that form canyons on both sides of my mouth.
I love what they tell me.
I've smiled often, and generously,
laughed deep, throaty laughs
and witch-like cackles
every day.

Examining this version of me,
I silence voices of
Where have I gone?
and cocoon myself once more
in gentle reminders of what really matters.

I'm getting there.

Bring Out the Raincoats and Let the Bleach Flow Like Water

Ahhhhhhh.....

It has been a long week. I woke up Tuesday and had to keep reminding myself that it wasn't Thursday. It's been long.

On Monday we went to Hannah Paige's Memorial Service. It was a beautiful service. Her parents are very loved. Kaitybean and I had the honor of singing along with another sister-in-law. Then, we had a luncheon.

Oh, but let me back up.

Before this, the night before actually, Mashuga started in with vomiting and diarrhea. We were up most of the night with him. Then, when we woke up he acted like he felt just fine. So, we got everyone dressed and went to the service. My Mom and I in one car with the kids, JDub in another car so he could go to work afterward. We live about five minutes at most from the cemetary. The service was about to start and JDub wasn't there. So I called and found out that he was on his way to the cemetary in the community north of us, whic is about 30 minutes away from our house. Oh boy.

The rest of that day was lovely, with a luncheon afterward. Then, my sister, her fiance and my mom came to my house to visit and play with us. My mom re-taught me how to play rummy and we played a few rounds.

Then, the next day came. I woke up to the sound of Scud heaving into the toilet. Yuck. Sure enough, he'd caught the stomach bug that Mashuga had. Well, we've had swimming lessons at 10:30 every morning for the last two weeks. They'd already missed a lesson when we went to Hannah's service. So, I thought I'd better take at least Kaitybean and Mashuga to their lessons. I talked to Scud about it and he agreed that he'd be able to come and sit in the balcony during their lessons. No sooner than we'd gotten situated in the balcony than he began throwing up. Oh, dear. I'll spare you all the details, but I did manage to get him to the car and get the other kids from lessons and go home.

Well, that was small potatoes. Yesterday Coco started throwing up. I tell you, there's not much worse than a vomiting baby. He was so miserable and has continued to be. I thought he was all done throwing up. He started at 8am yesterday and continued pretty steadily until 4:30am this morning. Then, he woke up at 7am, ate A LOT and slept for a few hours. He's been good. Then, about 30 minutes ago he threw up all over me again. He and I have showered a lot in the last couple of days.

Oh, and I forgot to tell you. Scud tripped and fell right on his nose. I think it may be broken. We're waiting for the swelling to go down so that we can see if it's really broken and what they can do for it.

So, I'm about to call the doctor to see what I can do for Coco and whether or not I need to bring him in. I'm worried about him getting dehydrated and vomiting for over 24 hours seems a bit dangerous in a 5 month old. Maybe it'll be a good time to take Scud in and we can just do a two-fer.

Through all this, I'm just laughing inside. Laughing and laughing. What else can you do? I just keep pausing and thinking how humorous it is that THIS is my life.

Oh, and I'm trying to ignore the flat of strawberries on my counter that are growing into little gray fuzzballs. I bought them on Saturday with the intent to make jam. I thought that the only things I'd have to do this week were Hannah's service and then swimming lessons.

Someone has a sense of humor and I'm just doing my best to try to get the joke.

I can't wait for all of this to slow down so that I can douse my entire home in bleach.

Happy Father's Day!

Well, my Dad is in Turkey right now for work. And my Father-In-Law lives in Germany. So, both of my Dads are halfway around the world for Father's Day. So, I thought I'd take a minute to thank them here for being so wonderful. I feel like I've been doubly blessed in the father department.

First, I was raised by one of the most wonderful fathers in the whole world. He has always worked hard to provide for our family and I have been very grateful for that. I remember waking up at dawn to have breakfast with him. The sun hadn't even come up yet and my Daddy was in the kitchen making bacon and eggs. I'd eat with him and go back to bed. It wasn't until years later that I realized that he didn't get to go back to sleep after that, but really went to work that early. Every day. It was even later that I realized how much of a sacrifice that was for him. I am grateful for a father who did all he could to provide for his family and who is a hard, dedicated worker.

And I'm also grateful that, as hard as he worked, he always seemed to have time for me. He attended soccer games and softball games, plays, concerts, performances. We played catch in the backyard and at the high school across the street. He took me on motorcycle rides. We had softball games and flew kites and went swimming. I am so grateful for a daddy who played with me.

He always took the time to listen to me and trusted me to be and to do my very best. He taught me the importance of continuing to learn, whether you're going to school or not.

My Dad is the type of person that everyone loves. He is generous, kind, helpful and genuine. He will do just about anything for anyone. He loves others unconditionally and sees past so many of the trappings of social standing that many of us get caught by. I think people love him mostly because of how he makes them feel about themselves. I know that's part of why I love him. He has always made me feel beautiful, capable, special, worthwhile. I have never doubted my worth because I could always see it in my father's eyes.

Then, I grew up and got married and got the bonus of a wonderful Father-In-Law. He also makes me feel special and important. In a different way, because he's only known me as an adult, but I am so grateful for his love for me and my children. And of course I feel so grateful for the way he has loved, led and raised my wonderful husband.

He was always a good example to his children. He is also a hard-worker and all of his boys have learned to work hard as a result. He is intelligent and witty, gentle and warm. And he is a very good listener, which is one of the traits I admire most. He took the time to read with his children and pray with them. He has served either in or for the military for most of his adult life and fought in the Gulf War. He prefers to watch television laying on the ground and he loves to crack random jokes and laugh harder at himself than anyone else could ever laugh at him. (Two endearing traits my sweetheart has inherited.) I am glad to call him my Father-In-Law and that my children call him Opa.

Like I said, I have been doubly blessed in the father department. I don't know why I'm so fortunate, but I know that I am.

Happy Father's Day

Beauty For Ashes

I have been drawn to Isaiah a lot lately. I used to find Isaiah rather intimidating, but lately it has come alive for me. It is pure poetry.

I have especially found myself reading chapter 61 over and over and over. It has been especially moving recently as our family has dealt with tragedy.

My sweet niece, Hannah Paige, was born on June 9th. Her mom, who is one of my best friends and favorite people, had been having some problems with bleeding because of placenta previa. On Saturday, they had to deliver Hannah by c-section because her mom was losing too much blood. She was only at about 21 weeks gestation and survived for about 20 minutes. I won't get into too much of the story, as it's not mine to tell.

But I have been surprised by how tender my feelings have been over the last few days. I feel comforted and blessed by an inner knowledge that families are forever, that sweet Hannah is not forever lost. But that doesn't always make right now any easier. My heart has been open and feeling so deeply for her sweet family, my brother and sister and nephews who I love beyond words.

And I have been re-feeling the loss of the sweet child I miscarried almost two years ago. And holding my sweet Jack, also, and feeling something akin to survivor's guilt. Baby guilt, maybe?

So, I keep coming back to Isaiah. And the imagery is beautiful.

The Savior was sent to "bind up the broken hearted", to "proclaim liberty to the captives".

There will be beauty for ashes.

The oil of joy for mourning.

The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.

Through affliction we can become as trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord.

The old wastes and desolations will be built up. Restored.

For our shame, we will receive a double portion.

We will rejoice in our afflictions as well as our joys.

All will be well, sanctified, consecrated for good in the end.

What beautiful words these are. And though the pain of right now may be so much to handle, I have no doubt that all things work together for our good.

There is not a pain, an affliction, a mistake in my life that I have not felt has been turned to a higher purpose, consecrated and made sacred.

There is nothing to fear, truly, for all will be made whole, made sacred, made good in the end. Loss is a gift every bit as much as any joy.

And so I weep and give the mother earth of my salty tears, hoping that I am truly mourning with those who mourn and that I can comfort and love and hold a space for healing and for joy.

Because I believe the words of Isaiah. I believe that, no matter what happens to us, we will be bound up, blessed and strengthened. And I would not trade a single loss I've endured for any amount of joy, for I know that in the end I would be left with less.

Numbers Game

I am the mother of four.

I am learning that the more children you have, the more the numbers in your life grow.

Because I am the mother of four, every time we go anywhere I am responsible for clothing five total people. Sometimes I even have to make sure JDub is dressed appropriately before we head out the door.

This means ten socks. Ten shoes. Seldom are they where they should be.

Now, this part HAS gotten easier as my children have become more independent. But any mother knows that just because a child is at the age where he can dress himself doesn't mean that he really always dresses himself. Cries of "Mom, where is my...?" and "Mom, I can't find...!" abound.

This means that I have five mouths to feed on a daily basis. Three meals a day plus snacks in between -- a minimum of 21 meals a day. Oh and there's JDub. I prepare food for him at least once a day.

And buying the food is no picnic either, especially since gas prices put the grocery guys out of business. On Monday, Mashuga, Coco and I went to Target. There we purchased a heaping cart full of food for one week. When we got to the checkout line we found that all of our groceries would not fit back into one cart. So, I managed to get two small children and two full carts out to our car. Then, I loaded approximately 40 bags and other assorted items from the car to the house. I won't even estimate how many individual items I then put away. I'm guessing it is about one hundred.

Having four children means about 12 loads of laundry each week. Or more.

It means that I am responsible for the cleaning and trimming of 100 fingernails and toenails on a weekly basis.

I am the one must try to make sure that approximately 100 teeth get cleaned twice a day. More when Coco actually gets teeth.

That means a minimum of ten dentists appointments per year.

An average of twelve doctor's visits per year.

At least six rolls of toilet paper, seven pull-ups and 30 diapers per week.

It means about 300 minutes spent in the car each week driving to and from a charter school for which I've put in approximately 200 hours of volunteer time in the past year.

But that's not all.

I get and give at least 25 kisses and ten hugs every single day.

I hear "I love you." at least 10 times a day. And I get to say it even more.

I get to see dozens of smiles, kiss countless owies, heal broken hearts every day.

I get to read close to 21 bedtime stories and sing nearly 30 lullabies every week.

It also means that if each of my current children has only two children of their own, I'll have at least 8 grandchildren. And I hear they are worth all the effort.

So, it's not about the numbers, though the numbers are staggering when I think about it.

And I am certainly not complaining about numbers now. I know that, in 20 years, the numbers I'll be measuring are miles between me and each of my children, days I go without kissing them, years since they left home.

So with all of my counting today, I'm trying to mindfully count the most important thingss -- my blessings.

And speaking of family...

Our family has been doing something really rewarding lately. We're working on a family motto and family mission statement/theme. After that we'll be working on some good, simply family rules that really govern our philosophy as a family. I want our children to have ownership in the shape our family takes and to agree to the rules that we are all expected to follow (yes, Mom and Dad, too!).

Last week we came up with our family motto. I was rather pleased with how it worked up and that it included input from all of our family members.

Here it is:

"Kindness, faith, hard work and laughter will get us all home together."

We also talked about some things that define our family, the kind of family we are and want to be. I may list them sometime soon.

Back to the rules thing, I'm always coming up with crazy rules on the fly. This accidental parenting thing is not what I'd call ideal. Because sometimes I come up with things like "Never pour lemonade in the dishwasher." or "We don't hit each other with baseball bats." Um, duh. Like I'm going to remember every weird thing I say and enforce it.

Instead, I want to have some good, principle-based, catch-all rules for our family. Like "We treat others with kindness and respect." and "Our house is a house of order." You know, stuff like that.

Today I actually came up with a good one. Not sure it will make the list of family laws, but I think I'll still say it a lot.

Scud was complaining because I asked him to pick up his sister's shirt when he went to get his shoes from under the trampoline and out flew "Scud, God gave us two arms for two reasons. First to help ourselves and second to help other people." He actually went right out and did it without complaint after that. We'll see if it becomes annoying after a while. That wouldn't be too terrible, really. I like annoying my kids for their own good.

So I wonder. What are some your favorite family rules, both silly and serious?

Continuum

I've been thinking a lot this week about the places I hold in my family. Because of the current season of my life, I am frequently caught up in my role as mother. All of my other roles seem to get only cursory attention. That's probably as it should be.

But I've been looking through old pictures and just loving being part of my family as a whole. It's good to feel the warmth of being not only a mother, but a daughter and a sister and a granddaughter. I am a niece and cousin, a sister-in-law, an aunt, grandmother to my future grandchildren.

I've especially been thinking about my parents this week. I am finishing a project for my Dad's 50th birthday, scanning pictures of our family through the years. They were so young when they got married. My mom was 20. My Dad was 18.

One picture especially caught my eye. We were on vacation in Park City, Utah. My mom was about my age. And I looked into her eyes, really looked. I realized something that I've never really understood before. Just like me, she loved her children fiercely and always did her best as our mother. And just like me, she had absolutely no idea if she was doing it right. She probably felt the same feelings of doubt and guilt, of joy and laughter. And it made me realize what a good woman she is, that my mom is the kind of person I would have been friends with had we been the same age. Which is not to say that we're not friends now, just that peer friendships are somewhat different than mother/daughter friendships. And I think I would enjoy being her friend either way.

I also realized how quickly my parents had to grow up. My mom lost her mother when she was eleven years old. My dad lost his parents when he was less than 2 years old. And my mother was my age when her father collapsed in our backyard and died later that day. My age. 29. So young to be without parents.

I really don't know what I'd do without my parents. They are an amazing support for me and for my children. They help us in so many ways and do so much for us. On top of that, they are such a huge emotional support. Their love is a constant beacon and has been a constant guide in my life.

Then, there's my sister. She's just started dating a wonderful person and is so excited about him. And I realized this week that my relationship with my best friend may change somewhat over the next little while. I am absolutely thrilled for her, crossing my fingers and hoping it will work out. But still a teeny bit sad for me as I look at what may be the end of an era in our relationship, selfish as that may be.



I've also been thinking a great deal about my grandparents lately. My father's parents, who were murdered in 1958, taken far too soon. My mother's mother, who was mother and safe haven to her children and every other child in the neighborhood. My Grandpa M, who was stubborn and gruff and sweet all at once, who carried small green tins of M&Ms and mints to share with his grandchildren. My spunky great-grandma who gave birth to 11 children and raised most of them by herself after her husband died and then raised my dad and his brother. She out-lived most of her children and out-ran young adults in her nineties. Then there was my Great Aunt, who also raised my dad. She made delicious peanut brittle, burned cookies, dried apricots and raised parakeets.

It's interesting to find that, as you get older, you really start to think about the people you love and who have loved you. Not to think as much about how they affect you or what you need from them. You start more to think about THEM -- who they are, how they've lived, how life has shaped them, how they've handled both joy and pain.

And as I think about my family, I am simply honored to be among them. There is imperfection, certainly. Fumbling. But so much love, so much strength and generosity, kindness and faith. I am amazed by how my family has handled adversity, how my parents especially have opened through grief and pain and allowed it to make them more gentle, more kind and forgiving of others.

It is a blessed thing to be part of a family.

And now, as I look into my parents eyes as they were young and stumbling through parenthood I feel both comforted and called to be better than I am. For this moment, I am able to glimpse my space on this continuum. I see all of the women who have stood in precisely the place I inhabit right now and my space feels so much wider, bigger and at once so small.

I am mother to my children. Daughter to two wonderful parents. Sister and sister-in-law to some of the best people on earth. Granddaughter. Aunt. Niece. Future Grandmother.

I wish so much to spread my arms wide to embrace the immensity of all that I am, to touch and bless all who stand before and after me in just the way I have been blessed.