I Broke the Butter Dish and Other Confessions of Late Pregnancy

Yes, I'm the one who broke the butter dish. And the last of the glasses that Derrick and Kendra gave us. And one of our few remaining IKEA stoneware bowls. I'm always clumsy during pregnancy. Well, I'm fairly clumsy all the time. Something about the hormones and the physical changes of pregnancy just exacerbates it.

But strangely, I have felt anything but clumsy this pregnancy. Being pregnant this time around has been pure bliss. I feel beautiful, divine, big, powerful, capable, joyful, grateful beyond reckoning. It may be because this is likely my last chance to experience pregnancy. It may be because I am keenly aware of so many around me who are yearning to be pregnant, or whose pregnancies are truly difficult. But somehow I have been able to abide in each moment of this experience, to cherish it for what it is, to revel in this partnership with the divine in creating a body to house a precious spirit.

I laugh at the less-than-stellar moments of pregnancy: the now cumbersome belly, the ridiculous round-ligament pain, the multiple trips to the bathroom (some coming less than 5 minutes apart), the hips that hurt in the morning and leave me walking like an old lady. And then I cherish them too. When will I ever feel this again? Even the pain and the discomfort are precious. They are teachers, reminders of how alive I am, how fortunate I am to be a mother, how worthwhile the fruits of this short season will be, how short this season truly is.

I think it is also a blessing to have a summer baby. I visit my garden in the mornings to tend and weed and water and harvest, the warmth of the sun radiating through me. The squatting and the bending and the reaching are wonderful preparation for my physical body. The widely opening flowers, soon to be ripe with fruit, are a comfort and companion to my mother-soul. The effortless green and growth are nourishment to my spirit and a gentle example of our equal needs, the garden and I, for nourishment and tender care.

In my favorite birth book, Birthing From Within, there is a powerful exercise. It is one I teach my BFW classes and doula clients. It is the process of choosing one's Deepest Question. Like affirmations, it is a way of bringing mind and body into congruence. Even more powerful, to my mind. In asking the question over and over, we invite ourselves to live the answer. And as I live the answer now and the next moment and the next moment, I can know with surety that I will still be living my answer as I give birth and learn to mother a new child.

My question through the latter half of this pregnancy has been this:

How am I opening to this moment?

Each time I ask this again, I feel myself crack open just a little wider. I feel my heart open, my mind open, my eyes open, my hands open. I feel myself opening to and embracing the joy, the humor, the aching hips, the gentle nudges of my baby each morning, the nervousness about having five children, the breaking butter dishes. I am opening to all of the possibilities this particular birthing adventure might take, to the love and kindness of friends and family and strangers who are eager to share in this experience, to the wonder in my children's eyes as they marvel over my hee-uuuge tummy, the adoration and devotion of my dear husband. I am claiming and embracing it all, without apology, with an inkling that I just might be one of the most blessed women in existence right now.

My preparation for Coco's birth was an exercise in trust, a warrior-like need for battle readiness, almost an existential crisis. (I frequently pull myself into the-chicken-or-the-egg type discussions about this. Was Coco's birth my most intense because I was so intense about preparing for it, or did my spirit know how desperately I needed that intense preparation for the phenomenal experience to come?)

This experience has been so incredibly different. It has been one of curiosity, gentleness and steady, calm assurance. Perhaps I am living the calm of the warrior. Coco's birth taught me that I am made of tougher stuff than I ever imagined. Perhaps my spirit really knows what's coming and I'm in for an easier ride this time.

Either way, I'm ready. Open. Grateful.

I'm in no hurry to part with this little one, to end this treasured experience. But I feel the end coming soon. And when it comes, I will open body, mind and spirit and let my little one come from my body to my arms.

And the opening will have only begun.

Ten Whole Years

Ten years ago, just after midnight, my water broke. We drove by the light of a full moon to Gunnison, Utah from our little home in Ephraim. I was excited, strangely confident and ready despite the fact that I was 37 1/2 weeks pregnant and even in my wildest dreams did not expect to be giving birth so soon.

JDub was a bit of a wreck, but he stuck with me and helped me pack and get there.

I walked the halls of the hospital, plunging into a squat with each wave. We watched home improvement shows and Gilligan's Island. My parents and sister and brother took turns spending time with us in my room. Interestingly enough, my fourteen year old brother was my greatest comfort during the contractions. He was so tender and so present.

After 15 1/2 hours of labor, I decided I was ready for an epidural. I'd really had no intention of giving birth naturally, unless it just happened that way. And by this point, I was ready for a rest and some relief. It was just what I needed. Despite some complications and plummeting blood pressure that had to be resolved, I was grateful when it was in place. I took a nap and woke up to some pressure sensations.

I didn't tell anyone or even open my eyes, but gently, gradually began to push my sweet baby into the world. That quiet space was the space where I began to become a mother. Eyes closed, body filled with light, I held tightly to the tender secret that my child would soon be in my arms. I talked with her and with my Heavenly Father. I made promises and let go of old agreements and readied myself for the rest of my life.

There are no words for the sweetness of that time.

After 15 minutes or 30, I don't know, I felt it was time to let everyone else in and welcome their help with the birth. I pushed for 30 minutes and my tiny daughter was out of my body and on my chest and I would never be the same again.



I was a mother, forever, through and through. Nothing else I had been before would ever matter as much or hold as big a part of me as this new little being.

Now, I have very few words to tell the beauty and awe I feel.

This, my 4 lb 13 oz baby girl:



has become this, my too-lovely-for-expression daughter:



I thought I knew joy ten years ago. But, ten years of being a mother to such a lovely, bright, amazing daughter is more than I will ever deserve. She has written poetry in my heart and I will never be the same. I simply will never be able to capture her goodness, her heart in words. She is far too wonderful.

Thank you, my daughter, for choosing me.

Happy birthday to both of us.

The Joy Comes in Moments

A conversation with Scud last night as he was settling down for sleep:

Scud: Mom, I realize you and Dad do so much stuff for us. I want to thank you for that.
Me: You're welcome. I'm grateful to be your mom.
Scud: I'm grateful to be your son.

Crunch!

Hi everyone! How are you all? It seems like forever since I've written anything here. Life has just been busy and full and rewarding and my little blog here has not had the draw it sometimes has. Too busy living and learning.

But, I had to come tell you the latest. I rear-ended a tank yesterday. Okay, not exactly a real-live tank. It was just a big, old, heavy, metal car. I looked down for a moment and then when I looked back up it was right there. If it had been dry, regular weather I would have had enough time to stop. But, (and I must interject here, WHAT IS GOING ON WITH THE WEATHER HERE IN UTAH??????) since it was snowing and the roads were wet and slick, I slid right into the back of his car.

Thankfully there were no injuries, though my neck is a bit sore today. His car didn't even have a scratch. Man, I wish I would have looked at the make and model of his car so I could get a picture and show you all just how SOLID it is. But... I was a bit distracted.

Our lovely Toyota Previa, Bertha, did not fare nearly as well. Her front end is all bent in; we can't open the hood. Lights are falling out. The fan belt squeaks. She died on me while I was taking kids to school this morning and wouldn't start again until she magically came to life when JDub came to rescue us and turned the key. (Isn't that always the way?)

The insurance adjuster is supposed to look at it today and give us the damage report. We have a $500 deductible and, gratefully, have that saved up. We may even need to find a new car if the damage is too great. We shall see what our best options are.

So...

Everything is well. We're all well. The guy I ran in to was exceedingly kind and easy-going about it.

It would be easy to complain that, as soon as we are out of debt and about to begin building a full emergency account we will be shelling out at least $500 and possibly be looking at the necessity of buying a new car (hopefully without any debt).

My sister texted me a quote a while ago that has really carried me through some of the difficulties of the last little while.

"If you can't see the bright side, polish the dull side."

So that's what I'm doing:

• I got in an accident yesterday and nobody was hurt!
  
• My kidlets are just fine!
  
• We chose not to involve police in the accident, so I didn't get any kind of citation!
  
• We will have to pay a $500 deductible to cover the expense of this accident, but we already have it in the bank. Hooray and hallelujah for emergency savings! Dave Ramsey, my friend, this is only one of many times over the last few years that I have wished I could kiss you on both cheeks like an old Italian grandmother.
• Bertha the gold van has taken us through over 150,000 miles since we bought her in 2002. This is the very first time we have had to do anything major to fix her. We have replaced tires and brakes and the muffler, done basic maintenance, but when all is said and done this has been an exceedingly reliable car.
  
• When she died this morning on the way to take kids to school, we were on a residential road just a block from our home. I drove up and down State (a very busy street) yesterday and even on the freeway and didn't have a bit of trouble. I am so, so grateful for the timing of it all.
• Even though we have been talking about lowering our coverage since we own our van outright, we have not done that yet. Thank goodness we still have comprehensive!
• And hey, I may even get a new vehicle out of this ordeal!

Isn't life crazy and funny and just interesting? I live a blessed life and I know it. No complaints here.

PS I'll try to get a picture up for you soon.

So Close I Can Almost Taste It!

A few days ago, JDub and I sat together on our bed with his laptop and paid off the very last of our credit card debt. Can I just tell you how wonderful that is? We now have only about $1900 on a personal loan that we will be able to pay off within the next month or so and we are done. Completely debt free other than our mortgage. What a fantastic feeling.

About three years ago we read Dave Ramsey's Total Money Makeover together and committed to doing it. I am not sure we have been as "gazelle intense" as we could have been, but we've continued to put one foot in front of the other and have managed, through various means, to pay down 90% of our $19,000 debt since then. Hooray!

As soon as we have finished with the last of our debt, we will be building our six month's savings and year's supply of food(starting with flour, wheat and a wheat grinder).

I can't put into words how light and free this makes me feel. Ahhhh... I feel such tremendous gratitude for the way we have been blessed and led over the last few years. Our prayers have been answered over and over, the windows of heaven have poured out blessings. I feel overwhelmed an unworthy of it all. So, so grateful.

For more information on Dave Ramsey's TMM, you can go to his website daveramsey.com.

Bring It On, Phil!

And strangely, I don't mean spring.

Not that I wouldn't welcome spring, but can I just tell you how desperately I have been loving this winter?

Winter was magic when I was a child. I can still taste the awe and excitement of waking up and looking out of our big, picture windows to see the world sparkling, blanketed in new snow. The hush, the splendor of the smooth, crystalline surface was almost sacred.

I remember walking home from school, wearing pink and gray moon boots. Crossing the high school football field, I felt like an arctic explorer as I tromped a trail through virgin snow that came up to my knees. And of course no trip would be complete without a handful melting in my mouth as I fell backward with a poof into the white to make a snow angel.

Seeing my breath blow in steamy puffs through the icy air, I felt so alive. Examining the tiny snowflakes that fell on my window, I marveled at each intricate, unique design.

My mom would bundle me up in snow pants and coat and boots and gloves and scarves and hat. I would wander through my yard for hours. Winter made the places I knew into a brand new world, fresh for exploring. Then, I'd come in to the living room, put my wet clothes on the large metal heater vent to dry and sit in our cozy kitchen drinking hot cocoa.

Later years found me sledding -- at East Elementary with Camille, at the high school with Rachel, in our Stake President's back yard with Liesl. Oh, and thinking about Liesl reminds me of the old snowmobile we used to ride for hours around the fields at West Elementary.

Winter was a charmed time.

I don't remember exactly when I started hating winter. By the time I was in high school, I'd lost a bit of my love affair with winter. But I didn't hate it.

Winter meant singing in three different choirs all through the Christmas season. It meant lights at Temple Square in Salt Lake City.

Winter was snowball fights with Michael, holding hands and walking through the cold until midnight with Troy, driving with Kevin to meet his grandmother in a car that didn't have a heater. I had to huddle under a pile of quilts and he had to stop every couple of blocks to wipe the inside of the windshield so that he could see.

Even during those years, winter was magic.

I think it may have been my freshman year of college that did it. I didn't know it then, but an insidious monster was creeping into my life.

Seasonal Affective Disorder

Anyone who has ever suffered from depression will understand why I simply cannot put into words the intensity of the pain, the anger, the emptiness and cold that has crept through my mind and heart every winter for so many years.

The panic that came over me every year in October was palpable. The feelings of worthlessness, hopelessness that consumed me each November are excruciating to even think about.

Somehow, this year a miracle happened. After TEN YEARS of suffering through winter, of wanting to hide from everyone and everything, of loathing the cold and the ice and the gray of winter, this year I am free.

I have no explanation for it. Nor do I want to spoil the charm of it all by trying to deduce the reasons.

I am simply grateful -- overwhelmingly, completely enamored with this season, with everything about it. My heart is full of the wonder I felt as a six year old child.

Has falling snow always been this enchanting? Has it always been this white? Have I ever really seen two feet of snow so powdery that it feels like air when you shovel it? Or snow so heavy that it is like hefting shovels full of water?

Is this how it feels to greet winter without crushing, agonizing depression?

Can I have some more please? I feel like I'm making up for a decade worth of winters this year.

A few nights ago, I walked outside to see Mashuga walking lightly across the surface of the snow in our front yard. An enormous grin exploded across my face. I remember that! Do you? Do you remember when you were small and the surface of the snow was frozen so that you could walk on top and leave only the barest trace of footprints?

And snowmen. Do you remember the sheer joy of building snowmen? This year my children have made snowmen and snowdogs. Their cousins came over with long, crooked carrots for snowmen noses. They all worked together to build snowmen in our yard, then ran across the street to build two more ginormous snow people in our neighbor's yard. This was extra fun, for Iris's aunt came here from Mexico just a few months ago. This was her first winter, her first snowman. Isn't that exciting?



The vicarious joy I've gotten from my children this year would be enough, but I am just astounded by the joy I feel, the way I've walked in awe during this season. The white, the ice, the fluffy snow has warmed my heart and spirit in immeasurable ways.

So, Punxatawney Phil can shuffle out of his hole to see his shadow tomorrow. Or he can not. Whether the groundhog heralds a swiftly approaching spring or a continued winter, I will be glad for it. I will welcome it with open arms.

You see, my friends, I have been happy and able to enjoy winter for the first time in oh so many years. Life has taught me once again that I believe in miracles.

Thankful

I hope you have all enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving.

I meant to make a list of things I am grateful for in my life today. But somehow that just didn't seem authentic right now.

For one thing, no matter how exhaustive, any list I make is bound to be hopelessly incomplete. And many of the things I might never think to put on a list of thankfuls are those things that are shaping me most right now, things for which I should be eternally grateful.

So rather than making a list, I am taking a moment to be here, to be present fully. I am gratitude. I am thankful.

I am so grateful just to be, to know that in this and in every moment of my life there is a deeper perfection than I will ever know or ever see fully in this life.

But I feel it and know that all is well, perfect. There is nothing better than right here and right now, no ordinary moments.

And for that I send out my call of gratitude today, for the eternal and utter perfection that is and always was and always will be.

I am so thankful to be a part of it.

Today I Lit a Candle

I lit a candle today.

In remembrance.

For love and hope.

And with the unshakable knowledge that life goes on, forever.

To remind myself that, though the flickering light of candle flame may go out, it never dies. Like life it simply alights elsewhere and continues to burn with love and joy.

On Tuesday my mother called to tell me that one of my dear friends and mentors lay dying. She has been a family friend for many years and was one of my young women leaders. She trusted me, one week between my junior and senior years of high school, to care for her sweet children. Now that I am a mother, I understand the sacred trust that was. She was always so good to me and to so many others. She lifted me up and made me feel sure that I would grow up to be a good woman. I loved her so very much.

So did the rest of my family. Her husband and my father have been like brothers for many years. She and my mother have been dear friends, which is why she got a call on Tuesday to let her know that Heidi was dying. So she could have a chance to say goodbye. She called me on the way and we wept together and talked of the good woman Heidi has been. I told her to tell Heidi goodbye for me, as well, to tell her how much I loved her.

I wanted, that very day, to drop everything I had to do and also go to her side. But, I realized that what I really want is to reclaim the years I've lost in wanting to rekindle the relationship and never acting on that wish. I wanted her to know my sweet children, for them to know her. But, I never got around to it. I realized that running to say goodbye would not change that, so I left my mother to send my love and give my goodbyes for me. And I took my daughter to the dentist and my son to preschool and did the laundry and loved my baby. I called JDub and told him what was going on and how I really wanted to go see her, but felt I needed to stay with my children and keep on.

"Don't worry," he said. "You are just being the good woman she always hoped you'd be."

And, of course, the tears came fresh and hot.

She passed peacefully Wednesday evening -- at home with her family. Her funeral is tomorrow.

And I am left to wish I had done more to reach out these last few years, as multiple sclerosis tore her body apart while keeping her mind intact. I wish I had gone to be with her, to talk with her, to help her. Too late. Too late.

So, I will do what the living do. I will light a candle and I will LIVE. I will fold the laundry and write poetry and eat chocolate and love my children desperately.

And I will hope that the love I give and the life I live are fitting tribute to those who have given so much of their love and lives to me.

Isn't This a Wonderful Country?

I won't lie to you. I'm disappointed.

But isn't great to have the freedom to agree or disagree with an issue, to work hard for something you believe in, to make your voice heard and to respect the sound of other's voices?

Truly we lead a blessed life. I'm grateful to be who I am and where I am.

There have been many negative comments made today about those who voted against Referendum 1. I don't want to go there. Though I think Referendum 1 was a good idea, there were many sensible people with sensible reasons to vote against it. And it's not the only good idea for improving education.

So, my snarky side has been alive and well today, but "bamboozled" is the strongest word my better half will let loose. Let's just say that I'm not impressed with how things went down on either side when it came to the homestretch.

I will always and forever be a school choice advocate. But I have no patience for anyone who feels the need to demean another person or that person's beliefs in order to make one's own ideas seem more sound.

It's been an interesting month.

Thanks for playing along. Thanks for listening and reading.

May the force be with you.

Brushes With Murphy

Murphy's Law: Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

Murphy, you rascal, I love to hate you. You keep popping into my life lately and mixing things up. I'd punch you in the nose and kick you out the door, but then the party wouldn't be nearly as interesting. Would it?

Here are the appearances you've made in my life this week:

• On Monday night I got a call and was told that I needed to rush over and intervene in a fight between two friends. I knew it was urgent, but at that moment Coco needed to be fed. So, being the good Mommy I am, I fed him first.
• I got there in time to be somewhat helpful, but not before the police got there and charged one of the parties with a simple assault. Ironically, they chose to cite the one on crutches who could barely move. Interesting choice, but I wasn't there for the real fireworks so who am I to judge? Murphy, you must love me. My life is never this interesting.
• After getting there I listened to one person rage and yell and then sat on the bathroom floor to listen while the other person cried. And I felt awfully guilty for not getting there sooner and smoothing things out better. Then I realized that these were their choices, not mine. Whether I'd been there earlier or not, I simply did not have to feel guilty over the consequences of someone else's decisions. You almost got me there, buddy.
• Because I was away from home for the better part of Monday night, JDub was left to take care of Coco. Now, I usually nurse him to sleep (Coco, not JDub) and then bring him to bed with me. We're big cosleeping proponents around here. But, I've also been feeling that it's time for Coco to learn how to sleep in his crib. Because I was gone, JDub decided to put him in his crib and let him sleep there. He whimpered a bit, didn't cry frantically like I'd been worried he would if we didn't ease him into the crib-sleeping-gig. And he slept until 6am! On his own! Yay for Coco!
• Here's where you come in, Murph. I woke up with Triple D, rock hard breasts that were screaming in pain. I guess going from three or four night feedings to none will do that. I was very grateful to be able to feed Coco that morning. He smiled and cooed at me and ate happily.
• Then, he projectile vomited all over both of us. I guess you can get too much of a good thing.
• Oh yes, back to Monday. I paid the very last payment on our van. As soon as we get the title in the mail, it is officially ours. Hooray!
• So, on Tuesday I went on a field trip with Mashuga's preschool class. Guess what happened? Really, can you guess? We got done, got all of the kids strapped into our car and it wouldn't start. Nada. Nothin' doin'. Thankfully, though, it was just a dead battery and we were able to jump start it right up.
• Then, that afternoon I was racing out the door at 3:20 to pick up kids. I had lost track of time as I am wont to do. (I can just hear JDub in my head. "The kids get out of school at 3:15? Really? Just like yesterday? When did this happen?") I rushed to get the little boys in their car seats and guess what? Nothing. Not a beep. So, we jump started it. Again.
• We showed up at my sister-in-law's house to pick up the kids an hour late. It really wasn't a problem, especially since she's the angel woman she is. We got Kaitybean to her last soccer game. Late, but there.
• Wednesday went off pretty smoothly. Oh, wait. No it didn't. We went to the gym to workout, Coco and Mashuga and I. We got there at 10am and the Kids' Club (daycare) was full. Not a problem. We walked to a nearby grocery store and got a few things. Then, we went back at 10:30, waited in a line for about 5 people to pick up their children and FINALLY got Mashuga and Coco in.
• I went upstairs to lift weights. I hadn't been working out for more than 10 minutes when I hear over the loudspeaker: "Attention members and guests, could Heather please come to the Kids' Club?" So, I went in. Coco was crying his sweet little heart out. I took him, fed him in the locker room and then dropped him back off with the nice ladies in the Kids' Club. I finished my workout and had time for a shower, even.
  
• That afternoon, after getting kids home from school, Kaitybean to and from ballet and Scud dropped off at football practice, I got a call from JDub. He had a flat tire on his bike and could I please come get him. Of course. We drove for fifteeen minutes before we saw him (handsome as could be) walking along the side of the road with his bicycle. Loaded it in and after being yelled at and honked at several times for being audacious enough to use the shoulder of the road, headed back home. I dropped JDub, Mashuga and Coco off and turned right around to pick Scud up from football practice.
• On Wednesday night I mentioned to JDub that we needed to do something about our TV. The stand we have it on isn't very sturdy and I was worried that one of our kids might pull it down on themselves. He agreed.
  
• So, at 7:30 on Wednesday morning I was downstairs doing laundry and heard a HUGE thud. Scud ran down to me to tell me that he'd managed to pull the television down on himself. I went upstairs to pick it up and the screen was flashing all sorts of shades of yellow, red and orange. The AV cables had broken off so that the prongs were stuck inside the TV.
  
• We cleaned up the mess and still managed to get Scud to school early. (JDub and Kaitybean take the bus to school really early on Thursday mornings so that Kaitybean can go to choir at 7:20.) We then went to the gym for yoga class, something I look forward to all week. We pulled in to a spot right in the front of the gym, walked in and SURPRISE! there was room for my boys in the Kids' Club. Woohoo! So, I got right in and thoroughly enjoyed yoga until someone came in 10 minutes before the end of class and told me to come to the Kids' Club. Coco, again, was crying. So, I signed him out and brought him in to yoga with me, only to find out that babies are not allowed in class. Oops. Not a problem.
• So, that afternoon, I took Mashuga to dance class. I got his dance shoes and realized that, once again, I forgot to buy shoe glue to fix his ballet shoes. The soles are falling off. No problem. I duct taped them on for now and will get shoe glue by next week. If I remember. It was not a fun dance day. Mashuga was tired and had a very difficult time listening to his teachers and being nice to all of the little girls in their cute pink leotards.
• After dance, we picked Scud and Kaitybean up from my SIL's house again. It was a comedy of errors trying to get them all in the car. I'd just get Mashuga rounded up and Kaitybean would disappear, then vice versa. So, we got home at 5:10 and had to leave by 5:20 to get Scud to his football game in time. Needless to say, Scud was late. But, we got him there. And it was a fun game to watch. Sadly, I couldn't get in touch with JDub to have him meet us and watch the game with us. Just as I was trying to call him the third time, my phone died. Which also meant that we couldn't order pizza to pick up after the game.
  
• So, I drove home, ordered pizza. Waited for 45 minutes to go pick it up and it wasn't done when I got there. I got home at about 8:30 and we all ate pizza and went to bed.
• Then, this morning, Coco (who has continued to sleep in his crib all week, hooray!) woke up at 5am and wouldn't go back to sleep. He finally fell asleep at around 6:30 and I decided that I'd join him for a little nap before I had to wake kids up for school. The next thing I know, Kaitybean is standing at the side of my bed, fully dressed and telling me it's 7:50 already. Aaaargh! We were late for school once again.

Do you want to know the funny thing about this week, though, Murphy my friend? All of the above may sound like complaining. It has been a truly nutty week. But, I am just so grateful for the gifts this week has given me.

• I was able to learn much from Monday night's situation. I grew closer to someone I haven't had much of a chance to get to know well.
  
• I was able to realize just what a treasure I have in my husband. He is my best friend. He treats me with kindness and respect. He is patient with me. He is unselfish and always trying to do what he can to make my life easier, to make me happier. We have learned through the last decade to work together, to communicate and to put our love for one another before anything else.
• Coco learned to sleep in his crib! I have had four uninterrupted nights of sleep in a row. This morning's sleep ended earlier than I would have liked and I probably should have just stayed up, but I still got to sleep for 6 hours without being woken up.
• My body has very quickly adjusted to Coco's new eating schedule and needs. What a miracle breastfeeding is! I am so grateful that it works so perfectly to meet his needs.
• I have a vehicle that gets us all over -- school, football, dance, soccer, football. We've had it since 2002. It has driven 220 thousand miles and the only issue we have with it right now is either a dying battery or an alternator that might not be working properly. Small potatoes, don't you think?
• I'm grateful to have family close and especially thankful for angel sisters and sisters-in-law.
• I'm grateful for a cool husband who was able to take the TV apart last night and get it working again. How awesome is he? Also, so grateful that we're not all that dependent on TV. We just don't watch it that much anymore.
  
• I have four beautiful, wonderful children and the means to allow them to play sports, participate in dance and choir and such. Playing taxi is a sacrifice, but how can I pity myself when I am so very blessed by such wonderful people to play taxi for.
• Thanks to my regular yoga practice, I am feeling my body grow firmer, stronger, looser. My mind and spirit are growing along with my body. I am more joyful, more peaceful, calmer. So, I missed ten minutes of a yoga class. So, what?
• I have one of the most amazingly beautiful and wonderful babies I could even imagine. He is such a sweetheart. And if he needs his mommy right now, rather than being able to be in the gym's daycare I understand. He is doing big things right now. Learning to sleep in a crib. He just finished getting two more teeth. He is learning to walk by himself and walking 10 or more steps at a time without holding onto anything. I'm so glad that I'm the lucky mom who gets to be there as his safe haven, the comfort he needs in order to have the strength to take on the world.
  
• And I am so grateful for a gym I love, at a price I can afford and with a phenomenal daycare that I can take my children to while I take some time for me. I can wait my turn for the Kid's club.
• I told Kaitybean last night that she would need to wake up early to finish her homework. And she did, without me even needing to get out of bed. How cool is that?

So, Murphy, this is why I love to hate you. You think you're wreaking havoc in my life, but I know better. This nutsiness and difficulty is what life is all about. And if the highs are this high, I'll take any lows you want to throw at me. Bring it on.

A Whole Decade

I have often said that marrying JDub was what Mary Pipher would call a "North Star Decision."

He is so much of who I am (and like about myself) now. So many experiences and decisions and happy times in my life would never have happened if I hadn't chosen to marry him ten years ago.

I adore this man and I am so grateful for him. He makes me laugh every single day.

We woke up this morning and just stayed in bed, talking and laughing. I love him even more now than I could have imagined ten years ago. And I told him that, knowing everything I know now about everything that has happened in the last ten years, I'd do it all over again.

"Even Mashuga?" He teased.

"Especially Mashuga," I told him.

It's good to be where we are.

Today we took the exhausting hike up to Timpanogos Cave and toured it. It was a lot of fun. We really should have gotten a picture up there together, though. Oops.

Here are some pictures from that day, oh so long ago. My only regret about our wedding day: I wish we'd hired a better photographer.

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.

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.

Photos

I love this guy.

Isn't this one of the cutest things you've ever seen. I love just his head poking out.

Tada! Paper hats at the Japanese Culture Fair on the last day of school.

My heart melts every time I see this one.

Sucking in his bottom lip.

Whatcha Talkin' About

Mommy Son Date

My Cute Date

He was disappointed. His friend got the comics page and he got stuck with this lousy ad page.

In a tower at the park.

Happy in the sling.

Sweet, sweet baby

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.

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