That Lady

I've become that lady.

The one with all the oversized zucchini I can't get rid of. 

Plus I have 2 kids and walk out of sacrament meeting sweating like ''ve been wrestling alligators for 75 minutes. 

And I know how long sacrament meeting is because I count down the minutes until Primary.

Then I sneak into primary and cry happy tears over my adorable child laying on the floor pretending to be a "little seed lying fast asleep" before he bravely marches to the front of the room to repeat the words of his simple prayer straight into the microphone. 

Tommy & his cousin Daniel who bonded during church on Sunday

Weird how fast that happened huh?

Oh Little John

Little John has recently hit that age.

The one where he knows how to ask for something and expects to get it.
The one where if he doesn't get it he goes for it himself.
The one where he spends half his life on his knees burying his nose in the floor weeping because his mean-old-mom said no about the 50,000th glass of strawberry milk.

He's interested in things. And he experiments. And he does things.

Like today when he must have wondered what 2 boxes of bandaids & luke-warm water make.

Answer: soggy useless bandaids.

In other news he can open the fridge and the freezer by himself. Also he has mastered the art emptying pretty much every drawer/shelf/bin in the house.

Go Little John!

Family Night Stitches

There's nothing like motherhood to remind you of your weaknesses.

John was sick yesterday and I have a 24 hour rule (they must be feeling well - not barfing, not fevering - for 24 hours before real life resumes.) so I stayed home from work today.

By 2pm we'd watched 8 million shows and needed to get out, but could go anywhere because of all the germs (SOOO many germs). So, we decided to go to the church parking lot to ride bikes.

Before leaving I made Tommy show me how he knows how to turn left, turn right, start and stop the bike. He did great. His bike has training wheels. He loves it and it was well past time for him to have one so he picked it up easily this week.

So I put both kids (and Tommy's new little bike) in the bike trailer. and rode around the corner to the church. He got out and started to ride, he was doing great and John was getting bored so I hopped back on my bike to ride in some circles around the parking lot too.

Tommy rode North and South, then slowly started heading East. Here's the thing about East around here - East is up. Always. And after East come West.

He turned around and started riding down, I reminded him to "pedal backwards, put on the brakes, STTTOOOOOOPPPP!!!!!" but I was too slow getting off my bike (with John) and across the parking lot to rescue him. He ran straight into the curb and flew off the bike smacking his chin on the sidewalk.

He screamed. But here's the thing about Tommy. He is good at screaming. So it didn't sound any different from his "John took the ball from me" scream. So I jogged slowly across the parking lot to assess.

But then I saw the pool of blood and ran.

I checked his mouth, his nose and his head (he was wearing a helmet) and couldn't find the source. But it was clearly still coming and had a handful of it in addition to the puddle on the sidewalk.

Then I saw it. Sortof.

Right under his chin, I could see the blood still coming.

In case you were wondering blood, needles, skin openings, all of it makes me woozy. Unreasonably so. I am the world's sissiest mom. 

I stuck my hand under his chin, and picked him up and asked if he was OK.

"I really really biffed it mom!!!!!" he howled.

I hauled him up to my bike where John was still sitting in the trailer enjoying his goldfish crackers and tried to put him in so we could ride home. He was having none of that.

So I got John out and carried/walked/dragged both kids back to my house dripping bits of blood along the way.

When we got home and cleaned it up enough to see, I immediately called my mom to see if he needed stitches. She had no idea, but she came over to look anyway.

The concern for me was the stuff coming out of the wound. The non blood stuff. The guts.

We called the nurse at my pediatricians office (3 cheers for Alpine Pediatrics - again!) who made and appointment for me to come in and get him stitched.

Fortunately (for me) Josh came home before the appointment and we all went together. We talked about what they'd say beforehand and what would happen and he was amazing. Unreasonably so. He jumped right up on the table and showed his "biffed it" to the nurse (who fell in love immediately...because who wouldn't really?) he giggled at her jokes and smiled while she got everything ready.

And he let her clean him up while I held his hand and he watched The Incredibles.

After a while we were just waiting for the numbing gel to do it's job because when the Dr. (Brian something I think? We were never properly introduced...) tried to shove the guts back in they wouldn't go and he needed to "apply more pressure".

There's something slightly horrifying about seeing a kid lay on a table like that.

It took some convincing (and distraction) for him to let dad hold his hand for the worst part (the putting those guts back in and stitching them closed) but fortunately (for me) he did and Josh watched with amazement as he always does with things that make my stomach turn.

Once the Dr. got out his tools, needles, cutting things, and the "sterile environment" stuff; my baby was covered with blue sheets and looked like he belonged in an operating room I tried harder to be distracted. I couldn't even see anything and I had to turn my body toward the door and play finger games with Little John just to stay conscious.

They gave him more shots in the chin, said something about a bad bruise, and kept asking him if that hurt - I never heard a response from him so I assume that means no.

Josh said he was amazing. He just laid there and nearly fell asleep.

Tommy got to choose some prizes afterward and made sure to choose one extra "for Little John" mysteriously Little John's broke first. Either way, Tommy came home bouncing with pride and joy and had an unreasonably good time.

Josh said it was totally different from watching them cut someone you don't know open. But he still thought it was cool.

And I have vowed never to do anything even remotely dangerous again, because guts spilling out of faces ought to be a once in a lifetime event.

My mom told me I have officially entered the mom club now. So...there's that.

7 Years

When Josh and I got married (you know, back when we had all the answers and knew how to make a marriage work) we made a pact that we would never have the "you forgot our anniversary" fight in our marriage. 

The solution? We were both responsible for it every year and instead of gifts we would give each other an experience. We'd go somewhere, or do something. And we'd plan it together.

So for our 1st anniversary we went to St. George. In July. Because we're idiots. 

2nd anniversary we went on an Alaskan Cruise which I blogged thoroughly. Because we're geniuses.

We spent our 3rd anniversary mini golfing in the middle of the day. Because pregnant girls don't waste vacation time on anniversaries. 

On our 4th anniversary we went camping. And I learned that post-baby there is no modesty between Josh and I.

I think we likely skipped our 5th anniversary. Though I did write some memories of our wedding day. 

And of course last year we went to San Diego.

Earlier this week I started to write the date and recognized the familiar numbers and nearly had a heart attack. I gasped audibly, immediately picked up the phone and called Josh to tell him we were about to forget our anniversary! (remember our deal?)

He told me to chill out and that he had it under control and that all I needed to do was show up on Friday at 3.

So I got off work early yesterday, for megadate because Josh had to work today (our real anniversary). He somehow bribed his younger siblings to come and take care of our kids. Pizza? It's amazing what people who love you will do for a pizza.

First he took me to get a pedicure at a swanky fancy pants salon - which was supposed to be our date of the month a few months ago, but we didn't use it because we suck at DOTM. (Not the best pedicure, but even the worst pedicure is better than a kick in the pants...and most other things too.)

Then, since it was a special occasion, we ate at Panda Express. wha wah waaaahhhhh...... (I do not love that place.) Though eating out without kids meant a Teeny Tiny Napkin Stack which is just about as fancy as I could ask for.

We saw a movie (Now You See Me - so cool).

We window shopped game stores and the mall. 

And finally Josh pulled up to a random Hotel. I didn't know we weren't going home, so I was surprised with the fancy room (most comfortable bed on the planet) a late night swim and a relaxed night. 

But the biggest surprise was that spending the night somewhere meant Josh took the day off work today - megadate was 2 WHOLE DAYS! (Can you imagine? Me niether...) 

We bummed around and wasted our whole morning watching tv (we never do that) and trying to decide if we wanted to go somewhere. Then we learned that John had been barfing all day so we got lunch and came home. 

It's nice to be "away" and irresponsible for a day. 

And today it was especially nice to feel so happy about who I married and our life together.

Things I love about being a working mom

I have a really great job – and it worked out in the only way that would have made me a working mom right now.

I work every afternoon, and I’m with a real estate investor as an assistant – doing a bit of everything. And I really love that. It seems unpopular to say this, but aside from loving the paycheck and the functions of my job, there are things I really do love about being a working mom.

1. Getting dressed. I’m not a girly girl. I am a jeans & t-shirt type, and I’m totally not into fashion. But a required shower & get ready kind of job is good for me. I like getting ready and going somewhere that yoga pants aren't appropriate.
2. Personal space. This might be the hardest part of motherhood for me. The little people touching me constantly. They want my lap, they want to see what happens when they touch my nose. They pull on my shirt to make me follow them. They insist on being carried from the bathroom to the bedroom. They poke my eyes, and head-butt me when I do it wrong. They want to help me stir, cut, & move the food. Wrestle-mania is their favorite part of the day. They can't read a book unless they are sitting on top of me. Both of them. I feel like I’m going to split in two because they’re always always pulling on me. And I hate that.
   But at work (the sun just came out as I typed this...appropriate), I typically go 5 straight hours with no physical contact at all. Occasionally there’s a handshake, but nobody touches my face or my clothes and nobody wants to sit in my chair and nobody breaths in my ears. And that is a thing of beauty.
3. Air conditioning. This summer  could easily be the death of me if I didn't get my 5 hour fix of cool dry air every day. Coming home to my soggy swamp cooler house reminds me just how much I love my comfortable office.
4. I think. At home it's all letters, numbers, colors & shapes. At work it's all accounting, marketing, operations & summaries. It's not that I don't know my preschool information (though when Tommy asks me what yellow & purple make I wonder....is "gross" the right answer? Because it feels right...), it's just that I'm much better at doing the work stuff than I am at teaching the preschool stuff. 
5. Driving alone. I'm learning new songs, I know what's happening "out there" because of the 30 second news breaks. I roll my windows down when I want to and blast the a/c when I feel like it. Nobody whines or kicks the back of my seat. Nobody tells me they want an ice cream cone (though I often stop for one anyway) and nobody expects anything of me. For 12 glorious minutes/day I rock the minivan alone.
6. Coming home. It's true. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. And though I never get to enjoy John's nap or get anything done around here, it's nice to come home having missed my boys.

A Class = Success

In June I was to find & register for a class.

I've been doing a lot of education-y stuff, and I registered for yet another small group class in June. So I'm calling it a success though it isn't anything like I pictured.

This class is something I am totally interested in, and something I definitely need. I have high hopes of learning all kinds of useful information. So hoorah for a success finally!

How does your garden grow?

We spend a lot of time outside looking at our garden area and thinking it looks so great - then we go somewhere (my parent's house) and see that our garden isn't growing quite as fast as we think it is.

BUT it is growing, and it had a later start (because it took me forever to plant things) and it has less than perfect conditions (crappy dirt, spotty water, etc.) and so I still think it's looking GOOOD.

Peppers

tomatoes

corn

Birthday Party

Last week Garret (Tommy's current favorite person) celebrated his 13th birthday.

We had Spiderman cupcakes and a helium balloon to help him celebrate.

Which launched Tommy into full-on birthday mode.

"It's going to be my party soon!" he told me.
"In October" I said.
"Yes. Tock-tober!"

Then he started telling me who would be on the guest list.

"Garret.....
Logzeroo.....
remember your friend about your sister called Sarah?
and Garret......"

He was fully satisfied with the list but wasn't at all satisfied at the thought that we'd wait until October to invite people. So we called and left a message for my sister to tell her that Garret & Logzeroo were invited.

Then he planned the rest of the party (priorities people) spiderman treats. And balloons. And cars and toys and CAKE!!!

So...there's that. Look at me planning things MONTHS before they happen.

Mommy loves Daddy

Tommy must have learned about writing letters lately.

The other day I came home from work and found this gem in an envelope on my desk.

Dear Santa,
Tommy is a great boy.
Mommy loves Daddy.
Dad loves Mommy, Tommy , Johnny.
Mommy loves everybody. 

Tommy now comes up to me multiple times/day with a scrap of paper and a pen and asks me to write a letter for him.

It usually follows the same format.
Dear somebody important
somebody loves somebody else usually a comprehensive list of people we've seen that day.
then a picture.

Little? John

When we go out in public and call him Little John people always smile and tell me how much they love that. They'll likely never know how much I love it. And that's OK. 

But the bigger he gets the more I wonder how long I'll be able to call him Little John. 

He insists that he's ready to graduate out of the high chair and sit at the table like the rest of us. 

He is talking a little more, but the words he knows are not at all important to his ability to communicate. Everybody knows what he wants all the time. 

My favorite is when his eyes light up because he knows something fun will happen. Typically this is because Garret helps him out of the car, and he knows they're going to ride the wiggle car down the street. Bless Garret and his desire to be cool for the kids. It's totally working. They love him. 

Lately John just seems so very large. He walks around everywhere we go, he knows what comes next and he loves to sit around reading books. He's intelligent and engaged in things. He's a far cry from the (adorably mushy) lump of baby we brought home from the hospital a year and a half ago. 

And while I love mushy baby lumps, I REALLY love this learning growing BEING that he is now.

Moments

Because my life is crazy and hectic and so very full of failures, not-good-enoughs and "why isn't this working?!?!"s, I feel confident that when I post the sweetest, sappiest, most adorably perfect moments here, nobody (myself, my posterity, and my fan club - hi mom!) will think this is normal.

On Friday night Josh and I should've gone out on a date, but he got struck with the plague (and we had no plans, but the plague is a less commonly used excuse and a good one - I'd hate to waste it by taking the fall with my "no plans" excuse which is the one we use every other day), so I asked Tommy if he'd like to join me at the grocery store and maybe a date after. He jumped at the chance because it would delay bedtime and he has decided that he would balance out the first 3 years of his 6:30 bedtime with a 10:30 bedtime so that we could pretend his had a normal 8:30 bedtime.

So we went to the store. While we were there I asked him if he was having fun on our "date". He rolled his eyes and said "mo-om, THIS (gesturing the store) is not a date, this is just boring old groceries." Right-o.

We opted for ice cream afterward, and due to the great E.Coli poisoning of Lindon city water it took 3 stops before we landed at the local frozen yogurt bar.

He was the perfect gentlemen - he even opened my door and held my hand.
He was loads of fun - making goofy faces and showing me how to put the gummy worm from his ice cream over my teeth so I could match his smile.
And in the end I got a kiss.
He's totally my type.

At the end of this perfect date as I boosted him up into his carseat he kissed my cheek and sweetly said, "mommy, my heart is tellin' me I love you." and I melted into a puddle right there on the sidewalk.
I managed to tell him that my heart was telling me I love him too through my happy-mom-tears.
Then he smiled even bigger as he made the connection. "I guess our hearts just love each other huh?"

I guess they do.

And I hope we never forget that.

When I Grow Up

The other day we drove past some road construction and Tommy was fascinated by the giant hole the construction workers were digging in the middle of the road.

T: "What are they doin' mom?"
M: "Digging a hole."
T: "why?" (I equal parts hate and love the why phase.)
M: "because it's their job."
T: "to earn all the money money?"
M: "yep."
T: "why's it's their job mom?"
M: "because it's what they chose to do when they grew up."
T: "what I'm gonna be when I get a grown up?"
M: "You can be anything you want when you grow up. You get to choose."
.....thinking.......
M: "What do you think you'll want to be when you grow up?"
T: "A HOLE digger.
.....
or an ice cream guy!
.......
or a drive-er! Mom! I could DRIVE when I grown up!"

This child has high hopes - and who am I to shatter that kind of dream?

Salamander Flats

One of the best parts of being a nurse is the totally awesome schedule. Josh works Monday, Wednesday & every other weekend (Saturday/Sunday).

The worst part of my job (and maybe the ONLY negative) is that I work every day. Monday - Friday. It's only in the afternoon, but it sortof steals the awesomeness that comes with Josh's job.

But he refuses to let the awesomeness go to waste. Yay Josh.

We were planning to head up the canyon on Thursday night right after work, but we sortof forgot about the preparation part of going so by the time we were ready to go Thursday, we were slammed with that crazy wind storm and decided we may as well get a good night's sleep before heading up first thing Friday morning.

We drove up the canyon thinking it would be easy to find a spot (ba ha ha ha! - that was dumb.) so after driving up and down and in and out of anything that looked like a camp site we finally landed at Salamander Flats and rushed to set up camp so I could get back to work.

I left Josh with a set-up tent, 2 hungry boys (John starting to run a fever and hacking up a lung), and boxes full of gear.

I had stashed my wardrobe change in my car so that I could change before heading up the canyon, but I was in such a hurry to get up there, I mostly changed at red lights (and one pull over) on my way.

 

I believe in camp hair, so the do-rag is always the first part of getting ready. Dumb I know - but I don't do hair hair while camping.

I never really know what happens while I'm gone, but when I came back they had eaten all of the snack-food, almost none of the meal-food and they were all happy, hungry & filthy. So I call it success.

We made toastite pizzas for dinner (easy because I knew Josh wouldn't want to try making something time consuming while keeping the boys out of the fire).

Toasttites on the fire.

Pizza ingredients.

After dinner we headed out for a short hike. And by short I mean a couple miles. And by hike I mean walk down the curving canyon road. Because that was the only way I knew how to get to the water. We took a trail on the way back, which was much more enjoyable.

Josh had taken the boys on 3 short walks (but we were in the mountains, so hikes right? Full credit there.) earlier in the day, but they had failed to find a water source and we all knew we'd die if we didn't find a river or stream or SOMEthing in which to throw rocks, pinecones and people.

John rode on my shoulders, Tommy and Josh walked ahead of me and we found the water.

Of course we were enormously thrilled with ourselves. Though the young couple having an intimate moment across the stream were probably embarrassed to find our young family invading their space.

During our walk back we found a trail that was beautifully shaded and had extraordinary views of the mountains all around us.

John says  "booya!" 

 When we got back to camp the boys were happy to sit and watch the fire while we waited for the sun to go down so we could get out the glow-sticks grandma gave them for Easter.

It was glow-stick mania in our tent. And everyone was happy - for almost 10 minutes.

Now, you know I love camping. really. Honestly. And there's nothing like waking up with the cool crisp air and the sounds of nature all around. But the reason that sunrise at 6am is such a beautiful thing is that the night is so so long.

There are a lot of skills that you learn when you camp a lot. How to cook over a fire, ignore the filth, pee in the wilderness....the list goes on. I have learned most of these skills, but the one I've never quite mastered is sleeping.

I used to get cold, so I got a mummy bag.
Then I got claustrophobic, so I got a two-man bag to share with the human space heater I married.
Then we had kids, and cold and cramped were the least of my sleep problems.

Now that Tommy is old enough to sleep in his own bag (all night long without moving at all !!!!) John has taken over the feet-in-face, tossing-and-turning, whinging-and-crying, whimpering-and-coughing position in our family.

And that is why sunrise when you're camping is so so beautiful.

I also love waking up with my boys. They are beautiful in the morning, but I am rarely in a position to capture that beauty. While we're all on the floor snuggling (and rolling around looking for marshmallows to eat) I am glad I get to soak in their goodness.

After breakfast we packed up and headed home so we'd have time to clean up, water the yard, and do all of the regular Saturday stuff.

Camping is one of those things that always makes our little family love each other more. Here's hoping there's lots of it this summer.

Cleaning

There are a few reasons that weekly cleaning is no longer optional in my life.

• We live in a big old house now. It started dirty and it has stayed dirty. Even the new parts are dirty. New houses must be sealed better. Big houses are more likely (in my world) to stay dirty. Because I can close the door and go somewhere else and pretend it isn't that bad. Reminder to me. It is. It is that bad. 
• We have a yard now. Yards come with dirt. And grass. And bees. And weeds. And ants. And other general filth. Don't get me wrong, I never want to be yardless again. But seriously - filth.
• Tommy no longer wears diapers. Let me be clear. The term "toilet trained" is a lie. A big. fat. ugly. LIE. Kids go from "in diapers" to "not in diapers" - apparently "toilet training" is something that doesn't happen until much later in life and here's why:
  3 year old boys are capable of aiming. They are also capable of focusing (on bugs and boogers and explosions). But they are not capable of doing both at the same time consistently. That's why there is pee everywhere in that bathroom EXCEPT the toilet. He is capable of aiming "that peein' thing" but now when he's busy looking around at all of the interesting things in the bathroom. And as it turns out "that peein' thing" follows his gaze.
• I got a job. Something happens when I leave this house. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but the effects often look like a bomb. A "daddy was snoozing" bomb. In his defense, he only closes his eyes for like 5 minutes.....and I would too.

And that's why at 9pm I haven't showered, my feet still look like I just went for a hike in flip flops (because I did....12 hours ago) and the house is finally beginning to smell like pinesol. I think...have I mentioned that Josh and I are allergic to this place? No matter. It's probably better that way given the pee smell.....

Independence

These boys.

 

There just aren't words - and any mom of any child in any place or time will say the same.

Lately they've both been making sure I know that they don't need me which both breaks my heart and makes me unreasonably proud.

John runs around all day like he's the king of the world. He gets his own snacks and puts on his shoes and points to his belly button on command.

Tommy climbs into John's crib, pushes chairs and stool around to get the things that are "way too high so I can't reach them mom" and screams when we try to help him with something he can do by himself (including attempting to feed my sister's fish a fruit snack).

I realize these milestones are old news and maybe it's just a recent surge of sentimentality, but my babies aren't babies and they are so dang much fun that I can hardly stand it. I really love sleeping through the night (sometimes) and I'm looking forward to a world without sippie cups. I love that everybody who is coming to the store with me can walk on their own two legs. My babies are beautiful capable man children and I love them.

See Me Run = Fail

May was all about running. Well....not ALL about running - but running 3x's/week.

I ran a lot (more) in May, but not every week. Some weeks I ran 5 times and other weeks I ran just once. I thought I'd get a schedule and routine happening and be super good at it, but mostly I just remembered how much I hate to run.

I'd run and then reward myself with yoga (outdoor yoga? yes please!).
I'd run and then reward myself with weeding.
I'd run and then reward myself with sitting around.
Or (more often) I'd yoga and then try to force myself to run cursing my stupid goal-making self every step of the way.

So here's what I learned.

I do like yoga.
I do like swimming.
I do like biking (within reason).
I do like sweating, weeding, working hard, and even just walking.
I do really like to be outside.

I do not (currently) like running.

So...there's that.

Gardening

Well, when we found out that our landlord filed Bankruptcy (but apparently not a real one - just a stalling one) we knew we'd get to live here at least through the summer (woot!)

So we planted a garden.

And spent 9,000 hours yanking white top out of the ground.

And dandelions.

And tree roots.

And starts of the maples.

And those weird trees with red soft cone-shaped things.

Then we hauled it all away in the oldest running truck in the universe. My Grandpa Fugal has had this truck since before my dad was born. And it can haul a lot of branches. A. LOT.

Josh spent an hour with a tiller and we wound up with this beautiful garden area.

I planted a bunch of stuff and have been unreasonably concerned about the amount of water going on the dirt.

It's sortof awesome - and terrifying. I feel like we spent a small fortune (like $100) getting this garden going, and for the first time I actually care - a lot - if it turns out or not. I'll be sad if we don't get anything.

So if you get bored, come on over, pull some weeds, and baby my squash, would you?

Babysitters

Last week I found and hired a babysitter for the first time in my life.

Because my sister watches the boys when I work, and my mom fills in sometimes when Katy isn't available, I pretty much always feel tapped out when it comes to babysitters.

I have a few mom friends in the ward that I could call in a pinch, but in the evening at bedtime? I decided to bite the bullet and hire a real live babysitter.

I picked up Heidi and she was sweet and kind and awesome. The boys liked her and Josh said that everything was great when he got home. She told me she really likes babysitting (but does that mean it's true?) and she was excited I called.

But I gotta know - how much do you pay a babysitter in 2013? She didn't know (I wouldn't have given a price at 15 years old either) and just said "whatever people pay". So I'm curious - what's normal? I have a 3 year old and a 1 year old. Who never do anything wrong. (Except when Tommy pooped on the bathroom scale because it was the middle of the night and he was still half asleep and he thought he just had to pee - so he was standing. Also except when Little John climbs into the full-of-water bathtub fully clothed. Also except when they both want the same toy.... Whatever, they're perfect and wonderful and they both love Blue's Clues. Babysitter's dream.)

I'm calling the whole thing wildly successful - and hoping we get to do it again for something more fun than just an hour and a half between when my meeting starts and Josh get home from work.

Currently accepting really great ideas. Except sky diving. That will not be considered on account of I'm a chicken.

Stand Ins

I sortof thought I was tapped out on incredible mother-figures in my life. I've had more than my fair share and I've written about many (though not all) of them before.

Besides already having a plethora of awesome women who help me be a grown-up, I sortof thought I was a grownup, and therefore done with needing so many moms all the time. [laugh track]

But moving into a ward full of people who are not only wiser, but also older than me has me back in that same gratitude position.

When we moved into the ward Brother Miles introduced himself and asked why he didn't know us. I told him we were new in the ward and Sister Miles apologized for her husband's demanding nature. Turns out Brother Miles used to be the Bishop and had good reason to know everybody. Since that moment I've silently admired Sister Miles from afar.

Today after paying me a tremendous complement Sister Miles and I sat next to each other during Relief Society. She oozes goodness. Really. Goodness and its related happiness.

When it came time to sing the closing song I started singing - an attempt at the alto part.

You should know - I don't sing. I don't have the ear for alto or the range for soprano. And though I'm not completely tone deaf, it's not typically a pretty thing. Unless I'm sitting next to a strong singer. Then I can follow just fine....I think. Oh my gosh, what if I can't even follow and I've totally thought I could my whole life? Yeesh.

I didn't know it but Sister Miles has a beautiful voice. As she started to sing with me my own voice got stronger. She lead me comfortably in the alto line and we sang together beautifully. Unless I'm even more tone deaf than I thought - then it was awful and she should have been singing louder to drown me out.

My own mom does the same thing for me. I don't often get to sit next to her and sing (because I don't sing. and she does.) but when I do she leads me comfortably where I ought to be making me sound better than I should and showing me the right way to do it.

But she does it in real life (not singing life) too. She just stands near me being good. Following the "music" and sounding just right making it possible for even my fumbling self to hit the right note on occasion.

As I listened to Sister Miles' beautiful voice I thought of all the times I've heard my mom sing. Lullabies  campfires and ward choir. Her voice is a sound I simply love and I can't imagine a day when it will be just a memory. I wonder if she knows how much I love to sing next to her. I wonder if she knows how her voice strengthens mine. I wonder if she knows how much I admire her, and how glad I am to have a mom I like to follow.

I hope so. But just in case, I'll be sure to tell her today.

On Being A Mother

This year Josh is working all of Mother's Day weekend. Saturday, Sunday & Monday he's gone for 14 hours each day.

Which gives me a different (for me) perspective on Mother's Day this year.

Rather than wishing I was being pampered and having a break from all of the hard things about being a mother, [insert list of activities revolving around foods, bodily fluids, chores, breaking stuff and crying here]

Instead I get to enjoy all of my favorite things about being a mother. With my kids.
Yes I'm still cooking and cleaning and wiping tears this weekend.

But mostly, I'm:

• snuggling
• sharing ice cream
• teaching my boys about watering the flowers
• showing them the beauty of the mountains
• reading stories
• taking my tiny men to a man store (Home Depot)
• singing songs
• kissing. slobbery and right on the lips. (or in John's case, teeth)
• snoozing in the afternoon
• running barefoot in the grass (but only until the pokeys come out)
• letting them believe that mac 'n cheese is gourmet food
• going for walks
• digging in the dirt
• playing hopscotch (because Tommy saw it on Blue's Clues)
• watching them be SO grown up in church (and being called out for crying about it) 
• having a dance party
• learning with them how to play games on my phone
• and really REALLY enjoying that they're both old enough and young enough to give me really good bear hugs

There are a million reasons I need a break every now and then. And 2 million more reasons I'd never give it up. Not even if it meant I never had to do dishes or laundry again.

Dinosaur Hair

John lets me do his hair pretty much anytime I want. He thinks it's part of brushing his teeth.

I boost both boys up on the counter, one on each side of the sink, we sing the toothbrushing song and giggle while we practice spitting in the sink. Then while they're both distracted by looking in the mirror and too high to get away, I do John's hair.

But if I so much as LOOK at Tommy with a comb or spray bottle in my hand....it's meltdown city.

After a few days of watching me do John's in the fauxhawk I was blessed with brilliance. I asked Tommy if he wanted "dinosaur hair" like Little John. He said yes and has been letting me do it ever since. He thinks it's cool to be a dinosaur.

These boys share a special kind of love. They love to be together and they are each other's favorites. At everything. Always.

After our morning walk Tommy sat on the hill in our front yard and stared at the ground while I chased John trying to keep him out of the neighbors' driveway and out of the road. Once I had Little John properly corralled I sat down to talk with Tommy. He told me he was feeling sad because Little John wasn't standing by him.

Little John heard his name and immediately came to join us on the lawn. Tommy was overjoyed and Little John couldn't be happier to have all the attention.

Roosters and Rocks

We (wisely) fell in the love with the trail by our house. Especially Little John. And Tommy. And Little John a couple more times.

When we go to the garage he climbs into the stroller and tries to buckle himself in because he wants to go for a walk. On the trail. Then he whimpers and cries the most sad and pathetic cry when I tell him we're getting in the car instead. Poor boy. All his dreams are shattered. 

Today as we walked (on the trail, in the stroller - as things should be) we passed the horses and got so lucky we heard the rooster crow. 

Again and again and again. 

Tommy would "cock-a-doodle-doo" and so would the rooster. Again and again. Meanwhile Little John laughed and laughed.

As we played "I Spy" on the way home Tommy found this gem.

After a few wrong guesses of "something that is white" he caved in and told me "it's a willy big huge-o-mondo white circle fing!" And THEN I guessed it.

When we got closer both boys went a little nuts and Tommy adequately expressed their excitement for both of them. "Look at all these million rocks just for meee!!!"

So we did.

And we listened to our voices echo. 

And we stretched up high to see how tall we were. 

It might have been the best trail-day yet.

Have I mentioned yet that I love living this close to the trail? Because I do. I really really do.

Good mornings

In the morning when Tommy wakes up before John (not often, but often enough for it not to be odd) he goes to the bathroom, then shouts for my help, then insists that we get back into my bed "for good mornin' snuggles so you can ask me about my snoozin' please."

I suppose that started before he could really talk. I'd go into his bedroom, open the blinds, say (with him) "oh my goodness, there's a day out there!" then ask him "how was your snoozin' in the nighttime?"

Eventually when he could talk he'd say "mmmm good."

Then when he wouldn't stay in his bed he'd say "good. in my bed. all night long."

Then when he was potty training he'd say "good. No peein' in my bed." (only when it's true...)

Now he says "good. Can I see your phone to see if it's morning or night?" My phone has an adapting background - when the sun goes down outside it shows stars and the moon. When it's raining there are raindrops. And somehow Tommy learned that if it shows the sun it's morning. Otherwise it's night.

There aren't many things I love as much as these good mornin' snuggles with him.

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.

Any Extra Stress?

When I went to the Dr. on Saturday to see if I really had shingles (I do.) the first thing she said was "what's the extra stress about?"

I tried hard not to laugh at her. Because that would have been rude. Instead I told her it was just the regular. Which is (unfortunately) true. I'm a bit of a stress-case. Always.

That's why it's so awesome that I'm not at all worried that the house that we're renting (here in PG) is being foreclosed. Trustee sale in 2 weeks.

So depending on who buys it, we may be looking for a new place soon.

Legally they have to let us live here for 90 days after the sale, so I'm confident we'll be here at least through July. But I'm really not sure after that.

The good news is (1) not my credit score (2) not my property (3) not my fault.

Pray that whoever buys this place wants to rent it to us for even less than we're currently paying? (ha!)