On the Library

My mom is a children's librarian. Well, THE children's librarian as far as my kids are concerned. Not that we don't like other librarians - we do. It's just that they pale in comparison to THE librarian.

Also they think she OWNS the library. "Yay! We can go to GRAMMA'S library!!!" they shout when we go to grandma's library. Which isn't often, cuz you know, it's nearly ten whole minutes away.

What I'm trying to show you here is that my kids are library spoiled.

They get special treatment, many of the other librarians know them, they are sometimes allowed behind the counter, and they almost always leave Grandma's library with a treat. Plus they've spent enough time there that they are unreasonably comfortable with the whole place. Even the creepy stairwell to get downstairs. They just really love Grandma's library.

Plus Grandma is always telling us about the cool programs they're doing. Like 1,000 books before kindergarten.

I signed the boys up in January, and last week we finally turned in the first chart of 100 books.

The each read (listened to me read) 100 books and colored in their chart and got these awesome library bags as a prize. We already had a million books checked out from our library, which cooperates with my mom's library and when the boys got their new bags, they couldn't figure out why we'd leave the library without filling them up with a million more books. The good news is that even though the libraries cooperate and allow you to check out from either one with either card, they don't tell on you for already having a million books already checked out.

Which is why we currently have TWO million library books at our house. Suckers. We really took them didn't we?

(heaven help me if I lose even one of them...)

Family Home Evening

We've never been good at family home evening, but a few months ago Tommy was playing with our super cute rotation chart and asked why it had all our names on it.

I explained what we should be doing, and what our assignments would be and he immediately nominated himself as "the boss of treats" forever more.

So we started having family home evening.

And by family home evening I mean Tommy picks a treat. Typically we wait for Josh to come home from work and look at a religious picture while one of us tries to remember what it's about and explain it to the kids.

One time Josh chose Abraham sacrificing Issac.

As it turns out, this is not a great bedtime story.

Josh: So Abraham's son was Issac, and he really really loved Issac.
Tommy: Like how much you love me?
Josh: Yes! Just like that! You're my son and Issac was Abraham's son and...
Me: Um...easy on the relating this story to our real life OK?
Josh: So God told Abraham to sacrifice Issac so they went for a little walk in the mountains....
Tommy: What's fice? What's a sack of fice?
Josh: Umm....kill...er....hurt....uh.....
Tommy: Why's that guy's hurtin that other guy with that sharp one. Is he choosin' dangerous?
Josh: Mom?
Me: You started it, good luck.

So you see lessons aren't our strong point.

But treats. We've totally got that under control.

Also singing. Because Little John can do a rendition of sun-BEAM that blows the roof off our place.

Alexander Lake

There is a secret in the mountains for Josh and I. It is a place of peace and refuge. And not in the tree-hugging-hippie-way. Or maybe it is.

Life here is stressful because I'm a stress-case. Life there is slow and calming and peaceful because things are filthy and the agenda is to sit around and I am capable of letting it all go.

Life here is chores and meetings and seeing people.

 Life there is family. Just family. 

Life here is gardening and weeding and harvesting.

Life there is effortless beauty with no gardener. 

Life here is "why aren't there 2 shoes that match?"

Life there is "pick a life jacket from the pile and enjoy".

Life here is bedtime and routines. 

Life there is late night campfires, sunsets & snuggling.

Life here is safely, carefully, and cautiously.

Life there is choosing and throwing anything you want.

I know it's possible to chill out in civilization - but until I learn that skill, I'll settle for regular sanity-saving trips in my very favorite places. 

This year's trip to Alexander Lake included 26 humans. 12 of those are adults. The oldest grandchild is 13 years old. Go ahead and tell me how awesome we are and I won't tell you how the 10-13 year olds are really the best child care on this planet.

This year was a bit different because we didn't get our "usual" spot - something about an entire scout troop not wanting to sleep with 16 babies. Whatever. Sissies. Though I will say we were all glad for the distance when their bugle call sounded at 6:30am. 

Camping in a different area on the lake was fun, a different "beach" different trees to sit on and different kitchen situation. Though I miss the giant rock tables in the usual place. 

The boys did relatively well, though sitting around the campfire listening to scary stories about murder and monsters wasn't really their cup of tea. It will be when they're older and they'll be glad those stories are familiar to them because their mean mom wouldn't let them wander into the dark woods alone.

The thing I really hope they learn though is about loving these mountains. And all the others too. I hope they are always content to sit and throw rocks for hours at a time watching the ripples and looking for the next big splash.

We Walk

When we started looking for somewhere to live here in Utah County Josh said "let's live by a trail like we do now" and I laughed at him and told him there was no such trail in Utah County.

Then we found this house to rent.

Then I discovered that there IS such a trail here. A brand new trail. Technically it isn't even open yet. It's almost twice as far to get to it as it was in our old house - which means like 20 steps instead of 10. Life is full of hardships you know.

So we walk.

Sometimes we haul Tommy's tricycle (which is far too small for him - his knees hit the handlbars and his feet fly around in tiny circles so fast I'm afraid he'll go flying) and he rides while we walk.
Sometimes we let Little John get out of the stroller and walk crouch by the side of the trail and throw rocks.
Sometimes we head North - toward the barn - which makes the boys scream because they wanna "touch a horsie's nose like grandma".
Sometimes we head South and drive the backyard animals a little crazy.
Sometimes we hold hands.
Sometimes we carry rocks.
Sometimes we take pictures of the end of the Earth - because we can see it from way up there.
Sometimes we shiver because it's cold and windy.
Sometimes we measure - often we just wander.

Always (almost) we love it.

Oh Easter

The prettiest day of the year. 

When the people are pretty, and the weather is pretty and the message is pretty.

So why can't the photos be pretty?

Flipping through the 58 timer-photos from this morning is like a cartoon book. The flipping kind.

It was a beautiful Sabbath morning. Sun shining. Birds chirping.

And then a man and a boy entered the scene. With weird faces because they were lonely.

So a woman enters, carrying The Babe who she has just chased across the field for the umpteenth time in 10 seconds.

But the mean lady immediately insists on confiscating all "pew-ers" (named for the "pew!" sound they make) and other contraband.

But the Short One refuses to relinquish the pew-er. His only shot at happiness.

So she hunts him down. Meanwhile the man becomes a velociraptor capturing and frightening The Babe

Dangling by his fingertips The Babe stretches to reach the ground - FREEDOM!!!

But he is captured by maniacs.

Looking around for an escape route, he takes the chance and runs!

 

FREEDOM! (again)

But the pew-er wielding Short One is on the loose.

The Short One and The Babe are captured by Velociraptor/Man .....

....and eaten alive.

Centrifugal Farce

Every year my family makes an album.

It becomes the soundtrack for my year. And is easily my favorite thing to listen to. Always. Running, walking, cleaning, singing, partying, moping, all of it. Somehow this soundtrack is good for all of them. 

Here's how it works: each person secretly chooses one song and submits it to Nate. The Album King. He compiles the album and distributes it. Then we listen and guess who submitted which song. The winner is the one who gets everybody right in the fewest number of guesses. Then we all listen to the album and tell each other how cool we are. 

This year there were a few surprises. Like my mom choosing The Cave by Mumford and Sons. In her defense, she had no idea how cool it was when she chose it.

It took Josh and I 4.5 guesses to get them all right. 1/2 guess because he guessed separate from me for the first guess, then completely abandoned me while I got them all correct by process of elimination (and mostly dumb luck). 

The winner this year got them all right on the first guess. I think we're all still trying to figure out HOW Spence & Em cheated because getting it all right at once is simply unbelievable. Especially this year. 

Do you want to be a Pseudo-Fugal and hear this year's album? 

Go ahead. Click here and enjoy.

Palladio	Escala
Let the Rest of the World Go By	Gordon MacRae & Jo Stafford
Learning to Fly	Pink Floyd
The Once and Future Carpenter	The Avett Brothers
I Won't Give Up	Jason Mraz
Downton Abbey -The Suite	Chamber Orchestra of London
50 Ways to Say Goodbye	Train
Run	Vampire Weekend
The Cave	Mumford & Sons
First Day of My Life	Bright Eyes
Dizzy	Tommy Roe
Let Your Heart Hold Fast	Fort Atlantic

Grown Up Bribes

February in my family is filled with promises and plans for The Cabin. 

If we just work really hard for the next 13 days then we can go to The Cabin. 

If we do all our chores and clean our house, then we can go to The Cabin.

If we get plenty of sleep leading up to it, we can survive on just a few hours a night at The Cabin. 

This year was no exception. Over President's Day weekend we were fortunate enough to be invited by one of our favorite family friends to go to The Cabin. 

Where we ate too much, slept too little, and laughed too hard. 

This year we perfected the game of werewolves and learned who is good at lying (me! Grandma Huggie) and who is not (Katy - aka The Giggler) and who looks like they're lying whether they are or not (Josh) and who isn't really sure if they are lying or not (Dad). Any game that can keep all of us playing (even The Old Ones) until 2am is a winner in my book.

While we were there we went tubing at Soldier Hollow, which is always a blast (even if Tommy looks like it isn't). 

 

Church on vacation is always something....special. But this Sunday was maybe the hardest Sunday of my life. I sortof thought that with the cousins to distract the boys I'd listen to the meeting, but poor Little John who hadn't slept properly in days simply wasn't having it. He cried. And cried. The overheated and overcrowded chapel was unbearable. So we cried in the hallway instead. 

We did enjoy the rest of our day, and the weekend (though exhausting) was well worth it. 

I know your family is cool, but my family is extraordinary cool.

Already I am ready to do it again - here's hoping it comes again soon!

New Year's Hike

When my mom called and said they were hiking battle creek we were sitting at the computer looking at pictures from last year. John was napping and the rest of us were still in our pajamas feeling a bit hung over from our new year's eve party the night before. The one where even Tommy stayed up until 2am.

So we jumped at the chance to do something that would help us all wake up.

We got all bundled up in our snow clothes and headed for the hills. Tommy whined and cried the whole way because he didn't like the way Josh put him in the car seat.

Sometimes Josh and Tommy just don't get along, and it's usually because Tommy thinks Josh should do things a certain way (my way - the way we always do it) and Josh doesn't see the point (because why does it really matter HOW he gets in his car seat?) and then they fight. This was a day of fighting. And both of them being sleep deprived didn't help at all.

But we made it there. And I helped Tommy out of his carseat (the right way apparently) and somehow Josh managed to squeeze bundled up John into his carrier and we headed up the mountain.

Before we hit the pond Tommy wanted to turn around and go home. He was well bundeled but was still cold and sounded a lot like the 101 Dalmatians whiner. "My toes is froze, my ears are froze, why can't we just walk in the snow?"

So he walked in the snow.

Meanwhile Lucy preferred to sit on the snowless rocks.

Once we found the pond though, the bridge was right around the corner, and once you hit the bridge, you're practically to the cave, which is just down the hill from the waterfall. The ultimate goal.

And just like that we learned about setting small attainable goals instead of big ones that make you wanna turn around and go home.

My shoulders swear that Tommy rode on them the whole way up, the pictures say he walked a good chunk - I suppose we should side with the photographic evidence rather than my old lady aches and pains.

The cave people.

I think they would have happily stayed in the cave for the rest of the day - but the promise of sliding down to the frozen waterfall finally got them moving again.

If you've never seen a frozen waterfall before, put that on your bucket list now. (If that's your kind of thing....) The water is still moving, but the surrounding icicles provide a positively beautiful sparkling frame.

Tommy was much more excited about sitting and sliding down than he was about trudging up the mountain. I learned that I am not equipped to be wheelchair bound - pushing us down the mountain on our bums was perhaps the most physically challenging part of the day.

Baby Ian was a saint in his pack the whole time. Apparently singing as we went.

John did surprisingly well considering he's never let us carry him more than 3 steps in this thing.... We vowed (again) to find a better hiking pack for the babies.

If you do this hike soon, you'll see Grandma's angel marks. :)

Any maybe Ryann's too.

There's something incredibly freeing about ditching the snow gear for the ride home. Even "frozen bo-bozen" Tommy was happy to ditch the britches.

This is another one of those moments where I look at my baby and wonder how that happened? I have a 3 year old (primary next week!) wearing snow pants, joining us for hikes. It seems like just yesterday I took Tommy to meet his new cousin Cayson and marveled at how grown up his 2 month self seemed.

These days the pictures of those two simply cannot be contained to a blanket on the floor because they're too busy wrestling each other.

Me and every other mom wanna know, where does the time go?

Sunday

Josh works every other Sunday, which is only part of the point of this post. Today was a work day and as such I was on my own at church. Let me pause for a brief moment. Any mom who has ever done church on her own in any sense of the phrase: hats off to you. This is only the 3rd or 4th time I've done it and I'm ready to call it quits.

Before 7am I had showered and done my hair (curls! My hair is long enough to curl again!) and makeup and packed the church bag.

Then the kids woke up and it took me an hour and half to get them fed and clothed. But, we walked to church and got there early enough for a Bishop handshake AND a bench.

Church starts at 9, John usually naps at 9 so it's 3 hours of sheer torture. But today he was ready to go down for a nap as soon as we left the house.

Still, we left the house with everybody in their Sunday best, and the boys even had coats and there was a Sunday shoe on all 6 of our (collective) feet.

By the time we got through Sacrament Meeting though Tommy had ditched his vest and tie, and was working on abandoning his shoes. John had lost his shoes, socks, and pants (temporarily) and was attempting to remove all of my hair with his bright-orange-fake-cheese-cracker-stained pudgy fists.

The very kind old couple behind us pretended to ignore it every time one of my kids escaped under the bench to their pew, and they even said that didn't mind the crayon throwing. (I did mind.) It wasn't until we were leaving that I discovered that throwing was the nicest thing Tommy did with the crayons that hour and pulled one of his pants and learned about the magical cleaning powers of wet wipes. (Crayon does come off church pews....with a significant amount of scrubbing.)

While John and I wandered the halls so Tommy could attend nursery (the only reason I can come up with for being at church without Josh.) we left a trail of footwear. Later a nice young man stopped me and told me that he thought he just saw John's other shoe (it was missing?) in the lost and found in the library. The remaining sock was quite literally hanging by a thread.

We visited the library and retrieved the shoe, though it may never be worn again. (What is the point?) I tried desperately to get John to sleep, but he was too tired and cranky to even think about it and forbade me from sitting down. So we wandered. more.

The good news is that Tommy came with me without crying when it was time to go. And after we had lunch he came up to me and told me to "sit down onna sofa." I did. Gladly.

Tommy: "Mommy! I got a surPRISE for you...."
Me: "What is it?"
T: "It's in my legs."
He proceeds to strip and pull toys, books, refrigerator magnets, and today's coloring page from nursery out of his jammies. 

Repeat 89 times because I can't stop laughing at his creepy flasher line.

Sundays are hard these days. I hear very little at church and wonder why I don't pace in my own hallway instead of at the church. But I'm counting on that "creating good habits" theory and trying not to cry ALLL day long. It helps when my 3-year-old flashes me and forces me to read him books a thousand times in a row. 

In other news I did not make my bed this morning, divine intervention? I believe so. It is calling my name, which simply isn't possible when the pillows are all on top.

A Little Indecisive

Probably my favorite thing about fall in Utah is the weather variety. I really do.

Last week we had a picnic because the weather was just so stunningly beautiful. I wore flip flops. Let's pretend that means something. My boys did not wear jackets. That actually does mean something.

That night there was a big storm knocking a bunch of apples off our tree, so Josh picked them up off the floor while the snow started. 

Then while we waited for it to accumulate we juiced the apples and got them ready to bottle. For future record a 5 gallon bucket of apples makes 7 quarts of apple juice.

But if there's anything we love more than a beautiful warm picnic having day, it's a snow day.

Seriously. We really REALLY love snow. This might have been the most fun we've had.....ever.