Dee's Baptism

On February 2, 2013, our oldest child and only son was baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I can't deny that we, as his parents, probably had a profound effect on this event taking place, but it truly was his decision to do so. For several months we have been talking with our children, particularly Dee, about why and how we are baptized. We asked him if he wanted to be baptized, making it clear that we were not forcing him to do it, and he responded with a resounding "Yes!"...as long as Daddy wouldn't let him drown. :)

I am so proud of Dee for making this choice. By being baptized he has followed the example of the Savior, he has proven his willingness to try to choose the right, and he has become a member of the LDS church, the church we believe to be the true church of Jesus Christ. My hope is that this is the first of many choices he will make in his life that will bring him closer to Heavenly Father and happiness in this life and the next.





 

Saturday was such a great day! Lots of our family came to support Dee and our family. The baptism was held at our stake center. Brother Sessions from our ward's bishopric conducted. Dee's sister, Jeigh, proudly led the music, beginning with an opening song of "I am a Child of God". Grandpa R. gave the opening prayer.

Grandpa P. gave a talk on baptism, wherein he shared the experience of his own baptism which was done in his local high school swimming pool. Another kid that was being baptized that day had to be rescued from the deep end. He reminded Dee to find something memorable that would mark this day in his mind.

Grandma R. gave a talk on the Holy Ghost. She had many objects to help Dee know how to recognize the Spirit, one of them being his favorite fuzzy blanket that was given to him as a brand new baby. Dee listened attentively to the talks. I'm not sure if he was nervous or excited or probably both. He slightly bounced in his chair with a huge grin on his face through the entire meeting.

After the talks, Aunt Erin and I sang a special musical number, "Baptism". It has been a long time since I've had the chance to sing with my sister; we used to do it all the time. It was my way of sharing in and contributing to Dee's big day.

After the musical number, Dee and his dad stepped into the font and Dee was baptized by immersion with both of his grandfathers acting as witnesses. All the little cousins and children who had come to the baptism sat near the glass surrounding the font to watch. Jeigh started cackling as Dee was submerged in the water and that set several of the children off. However irreverent, they were just voicing the excitement and energy that could be felt in the room.

While Dee and Joe changed into dry clothes, the primary president, Sister Garside, passed out papers for people to write notes of congratulation, advice, or love for Dee. When they reappeared, dried and dressed, the confirmation took place. Nine men (Joe, Grandpa R., Grandpa P., Uncle Kip, Uncle Colin, Cousin Brandon, Paula (friend), Bishop Phillips, and Brother Sessions) who hold the power of the priesthood placed their hands on Dee's head and gave him the gift of the Holy Ghost. My husband, Joe, is a humble man who gives powerful blessings. I'm always amazed at the words that come from his mouth when he is acting as the mouthpiece of God. I know they are not his own. Among many other things, he blessed Dee to do well in school, to serve as a full-time missionary someday, and reminded him how much his earthly and heavenly parents love him. Dee gave awkward, yet happy handshakes and hugs to all the men in the circle after the confirmation.



Dee and his sweet Primary teacher, Sister Spears



Brother Sessions turned some time over to Bishop Phillips and then closed the meeting. The closing song, "I'm Trying to be Like Jesus" was led again by Jeigh and the closing prayer was given by Dee's five year old cousin, Kashus. We were slightly nervous when Dee wanted to ask Kash to give the closing prayer. Kash's prayers are often...creative...and always long. This one wasn't any different, but it was a great prayer. It was obvious that Kash had been listening closely to the baptism and confirmation when he repeatedly asked that things be blessed "by the holy authority". At one point, even he got tired during his long prayer and yawned a big, loud yawn. That was the point that Dee and I lost it. I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to stop from giggling out loud. It was a memorable prayer from one fantastic kid!

Once the meeting was over we made our way to our home where we served a luncheon. Dee had requested Chicken Noodle and Minestrone Soup. Aunt Erin made a Cheese Broccoli Soup for those who CAN have milk. With about 45 people, the house was full to the brim with family and friends. Just the way we like it!

This boy is blessed to have such great friends and family in his life. He is so loved! What a special day!







Grandpa and Grandma P.

  


Grandpa and Grandma R. (and cousin London)

 


Three generations

  


These girls sure are lucky to have such a great older brother!



 





Of Bread and Baptism

Dee had his baptism interview with the bishop about a month ago. I was sick that day and had to miss it, but it was reported to me that the bishop had asked Dee to go home and "help his mom". He had scarfed all the bread I had made the day before so I told him he could help me make more. We chatted as we kneaded and I caught some of it on camera. Just when you think they aren't listening...

(Note: I do realize that Jesus was NOT the first to be baptized. In my head I was thinking, He was the "first" as in, He was setting the example for us to follow.)

(Other Note: I sure love this kid!)

Speaking of Cleaning: Men vs Women

Speaking of cleaning...

A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I sat at the dinner table with my sister and her husband who were visiting for Cee's birthday party. As we made future plans, I suddenly realized with horror that Joe's upcoming work travels would take him away for two weeks, right up until the day before Dee's baptism.

"Oh my gosh! I'm going to have so much to do, especially with you gone!", I lamented.

"What's the big deal? It's not like there's hardly anything to do. We just show up at the church, dunk the kid, and eat," was Joe's (serious) response.

"Big deal"?! "Not anything to do"?!?! ARE YOU JOKING?!

I was gratified to look across the table and see the same slack-jawed, gaped-mouth face of dismay and disbelief that was planted on my own face, reflected in my sister's face.

But she's a woman. She gets it.

My husband? He's a man. He obviously does NOT "get it".

Let's see...

There's the spiritual preparations, like having some important heart-to-hearts with Dee to make sure he understands what he's agreeing to in making the choice to be baptized. Etc.

There's the actual baptism to plan. Who's going to say the prayer? Lead the music? Give the talks? Etc, etc.

There's the luncheon after the baptism to plan. How many are we feeding? What are we eating? Now how does that fit in the budget? When can I go shopping with minimal children? Do I need to make alternatives for my food issue kids? How am I going to time everything so that all the food is done at once, but I'm not standing in the kitchen all day? Etc, etc, etc.

And the house. It needs to be cleaned. The basics like vacuuming and bathrooms. But then there are fingerprints all over walls and food smears on chairs. "Booby trapped" cupboards might be opened by unsuspecting victims. I still haven't put back all my decor since taking down Christmas stuff. The laundry cannot be allowed to linger. And what is that rotten smell in the kitchen? Etc, etc, etc, etc, etc.

Are we having any overnight guests? Did we remember to invite Grandma? What's the weather going to be like for out of state travelers? Is Dee's suit clean? Does he actually have any (still) white underwear? etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, ETC!

And this is all on top of the regular day to day stuff! AND ALL TO BE COMPLETED IN MARRIED SINGLEHOOD SINCE THE REALLY HELPFUL MAN OF THE HOUSE WILL BE OUT OF TOWN FOR THE TWO WEEKS PRIOR!!

A mom's head could explode.

But a dad's...?

Well, he's just there to "dunk the kid".

He would be perfectly happy if we ate chicken nuggets while sitting on the (maybe vacuumed?) floor.

Sure, he may have the priesthood power, but I've got the power of perception and paranoia.

He will help Dee "wash away his sins". And I'll wash everything else.

I'm not complaining. (Well, maybe a little...) I'm definitely not getting all feminist-frenzied. (Oh good gravy! PLEASE let's not go there.) Nor am I belittling my efforts or burdens as a woman. And I'm not trying to disparage all the hard work my husband does to support and nurture our little family.

This is how it works--and by "works" I mean WORKS...mutually, collaboratively, harmoniously. We all play our parts and "with our powers combined" it will be a great day!

Organized Chaos

On New Year's Day I made a subconscious resolution.

I will clean my bathrooms once a week.

Of all my household chores, cleaning the bathroom has to be the worst. It's just so...involved. Stinky chemicals, all that wiping and rewiping, keeping rags separate so as not to mix "toilet germies" with "sink germies",  making sure the kids aren't getting into anything hazardous or wet in the process.

And just when you get done with the sink and toilet, you see that stupid ring around the tub. Ugh.

The way I cleaned bathrooms before was...I just really didn't. At least not that often. At least not unless I knew company was coming. Gross. I know.

So, I decided to be ambitious and make it my goal in life to have a clean bathroom, at least one day out of each week this year.

 I declared Wednesdays to now officially be known as "Watercloset Wednesdays" and so far in the year 2013, I'm 4 for 4! Go me.

(That's probably about as many times as I cleaned my bathroom in 2012. Ha...ha...)

Now that I have relatively clean bathrooms, the rest of the house begs for attention. But Wednesdays are already jam packed with all that bathroom cleaning, so now we also have...

Make-up for the Weekend Monday
Toy Room Tuesday
Watercloset/Wipe Down Switches and Knobs with Clorox Wipes Wednesday
There's Gotta be Something that Needs Cleaned Thursday
and
Fancy Free Friday

You  might think I'm joking, but my housework has never felt so manageable. I used to try to follow the Fly Lady cleaning methods, but after getting a bajillion emails from her every day (Seriously. A BAJILLION!) I marked her as "Spam". Turns out the only thing I wanted to "fling" was her.

Happy Move to Utah Day!

Two years ago today we showed up in snow-smothered Utah with a packed moving van and a week old baby. While the circumstances were less than ideal, it was one of the best things to happen to our family.

I remember that when my husband told me he had a job opportunity in Utah I was simultaneously thrilled and terrified...

Salt Lake City, Utah! Utah has to be so much better than Elko, Nevada.

And...

Salt Lake City, Utah?! Mormonville: Where all the women are snobby, fake, super crafty, thin, blond, ultra-perfect mothers and wives.

I couldn't have been more wrong. I've mentioned over and over again how blessed we have been to be here, particularly because of the wonderful people we call "neighbors" and "ward members". They are sincere, kind, genuine, and generous people who have welcomed our little family with open arms.

As shocked as I was to realize it...Salt Lake City, Utah is my happy place. I don't know how long we will end up being here. With our track record, I wouldn't be surprised if we uproot ourselves again. But whenever I think about the possibility I get a little teary, knowing how heart wrenching it will be to leave behind "our people".

This is our second anniversary since our floundering move from Nevada and it's a date I love to celebrate! Maybe I'm not the only one. Some kind, mysterious soul left a yummy dinner on our door step today! Chicken enchiladas, chips and salsa, and even some whole wheat cinnamon rolls from Great Harvest! What a touching gesture! I'm feeling so loved today!

Happy Move to Utah Day!

P.S. I was looking back to see what I was blogging about back during our move. This post still brings a tear, albeit a happy tear, to my eye.

Feeling Bad for Feeling Good

Last night I went to sleep with a warm pile of Guilt snuggled up right beside me. It smothered me and crimped my neck. It's bad breath stifled me through the night.

Have I become one of those obnoxious half-glass-full kind of people who is perpetually optimistic about life?

And at some point during the night, I realized, Yep. I have.

And I felt guilty for it.

Feeling bad for feeling good. Makes tons of sense, doesn't it?

I rolled over in bed, turning my back on the guilt, let it roll to it's own side of the bed, settle, and snore quietly through the night.

When I first started blogging, I knew how to tell a good whiny tale with my new favorite maternal outlet.

Motherhood is sooo haaard.
I don't clean my toilets.
I'm always depressed.
My kids make me crazy with messes and whining and stuff.
I hate/love/hate being a mom.

And I would get lots of comments from readers feeding my monstrous whiny-ness.

Evelyn! I love how REAL you are!
Motherhood IS hard!
You thought your day was hard? Get this...
Eat more chocolate.
It gets better.

You know what? It does get better. I'm not sure if it's because we are finishing up the baby stage and my kids are getting a little older and a little more capable. Maybe, after eight plus years, I'm finally easing into motherhood and finding I can do it with grace instead of grudge. Possible it's true that "practice makes perfect". It could even be losing 90 ish pounds has given me a new sense of confidence in myself. There could be something to getting "older and wiser". Maybe I'm actually getting some sleep at night.

Whatever it is, I feel myself changing as a mother and as a person. I no longer feel trapped and like a daily failure. I find incredible, inexpressible joy in being a stay at home mom. It's not that I love my children any more than I did before. It's that I've found huge satisfaction and peace in the work and the way of things. I've learned to let some expectations and habits go. My home is truly where my heart is and I love creating a place of nurturing for my children. My hobbies have adapted to include things like food storage, interior design, and tutoring. I am never happier than when my whole family is home, our home is comfortable (not necessarily sparkling clean, but not cluttered and chaotic), there is good food on the table, good music playing in the background, and good things happening.

This doesn't mean that I don't ever yell at my kids. Or that my home doesn't get "Hoarders"-worthy every now and then. Or that I don't burn dinner. Or that I spring out of bed with a smile every morning. Or that my children are perfectly behaved in public. Or that my husband doesn't find me slightly neurotic. Or that I don't blow the budget. Or that I don't eat chocolate behind the locked bedroom door.

I'm not sure exactly what it means. Maybe when I'm a grandma, then I'll be able to pinpoint for you why life is so good and why it seems to be so much easier to find happiness in the simplest of things these days.

But right now that guilt pokes at me and accuses me of coming across as sappy, cheesy, or fake.  When I write things whether on here or on Facebook, I am trying to be real. I want to record and share these awesome things that are happening in our life. Some days I am trying to be optimistic and see the good in things even when it doesn't feel so good.

For some stupid reason I still care what others think of me and that I possibly annoy them with my blooming satisfaction. I worry that they assume I have a perfect life or that I think I have a perfect life or that I want people to think I have a perfect life.

It bothers me that I have a few friends that only seem to comment or "like" the things I write when I'm complaining about something distressing. Honestly, it makes me wonder if they are happy to see me in my unhappy moments.

It aggravates me that I even waste the emotion on this; that I feel guilty for expressing "too much" joy and then that I feel guilty for feeling guilty. It's all a tad ridiculous, no?

"Men are that they might have joy." (2 Nephi 2:25)

We are here on this earth to be happy and to strive to be perfect like the Savior. If I am working my way towards that then I must be doing something right. And no I didn't just say I was perfect or even perfectly happy. I'm just working on getting there.

I guess what I'm trying to say in my very imperfect and meandering way is that though I'm not ready to kick Guilt out into the cold, it may just have to stay in the guest room in the basement tonight.

We Need More Ice Cream!

Tonight after dinner I let loose a bit and dished up ice cream for all the kids.

(Well, all except Dee. He's allergic to milk. I offered him his usual substitute popsicle but he vetoed it for celery and peanut butter. Celery and peanut butter instead of popsicles?! Where did I go wrong?!?)

We don't usually indulge in ice cream; in fact, I try to keep all treats to a minimum. And let me just stop you cold before you make silly assumptions about me being such a fabulous mom who is working so hard to instill healthy habits in her little ones.

Truth: I WILL EAT ALL OF IT if it is in the house. That's it. There's the reality.

But tonight was a treat. Dad's out of town. It's a Thursday night. The ice cream bucket is almost empty and taking up lots of space in the freezer. Why not? "Live and let lick" I say!

As my four little ones sat and slurped their ice cream--and celery?!--the conversation began to flow. And before three little bowls of ice cream and one bowl of peanut butter were gone, we had covered, and I believe in this order:

*where babies come from
*the Plan of Happiness
*Heavenly Father's omnipotent, yet very real and personal awareness of every single person and thing on this earth. (Jeigh pointed out that he even knows when we are having "attitudes". Dang straight he knows!)
*100+500=600
*Free Agency and why God allows people to do bad things
*What exactly "ants on a log" means
and...
*If someone chose to eat Elle she would taste like "little girl" and not "ant"

Who says junk food is all junk? I think I'm adding ice cream on to my weekly grocery list.

I Miss Blogging

And I might even be brazen enough to say blogging misses me.

It was one thing I was semi-good at and something that brought me a lot of joy. So why is it so dang hard to get to these days?

As each of my babies have made their grand entrance into the world, I have had to let go of something that was important to me. The time and effort of taking care of a new little one is nothing menial and something's gotta give. I can hardly resent my children. They, of course, are my number one priority. It's just the way of things.

With my first baby, Dee, it was scrapbooking.
With the second, Jeigh, it was my job as an Emergency Department Tech.
With Elle, it was card making.
And with Cee...blogging.

My hope is one day, some of those things will return to my daily life as my kiddos get a little older and more capable of doing things for themselves. For now, I'll grab my moments where I can get them.

So, I'm not here to make any grandiose promises that "I'm baaaack!". Let's just say, today was a good day because I got a few minutes to myself to indulge again in something I love.

Speaking of my day...It's been a productive one and I just want to record what happened so that on my not-so-productive days I can remember what it is to feel accomplished as a mom of four kids ages 8 and under.

6:45 am: Wakeup with Cee
Change and cuddle with Cee
7:00 am: Make sure kids are up and going
Prayers
Read scriptures
Eat breakfast
Check email and Facebook
Clean up sugar bowl explosion (Thank you Cee!)
Vacuum
Nag incessantly 
8:00: Take big kids to school
Bathe Cee
Clean bathrooms
Sanitize light switches, door knobs, and other surfaces
Get Elle ready for preschool
9:00: Send Elle off to preschool
Grind wheat and make bread
9:45: Run 4 miles on treadmill while catching up on "The Office"
11:00: Start second batch of bread
Bake first batch
Shower, dress, makeup
Phone call with sister
12:15: Out the door to deliver "thank you" bread and jam to someone who was an answer to a prayer
Pick up Elle from preschool/dance
12:30: Drop off dry cleaning
Share a Cafe Rio Wednesday Special (Chicken Tostadas!) with my little ladies 
Library drop-off and pick-up
1:15: Home again, jiggety, jig
Cee down for nap
Finish second batch of bread
SIT!!!
Plan, plan, plan
Read
Change and wash wet crib sheets
Comfort crying Cee
3:00: Pick up kids from school
Snack time
3:30: BLOG!
4:00: Homework
5:00: Make dinner
5:30: Eat dinner
5:45: Clean up dinner
6:15: Jeigh piano practice
6:45: Bath night
7:15: Bed time
Family scripture study
Reading
Prayers
Bedtime for four kiddos! 
8:15: Avoid thinking about No Bake Cookies and other chocolaty transgressions
9:00: Bed
Reading, Emails, Facebook, Mystery Manor
Sleep

Rinse, repeat and repeat and repeat and repeat...

Life is good!

Jar Love #1: Sunshine

I'm Not Crying

A friend of mine posted this on her Facebook page the other day. I could not stop laughing.


The Crying Competition (part 1) from Brent Hoff on Vimeo.

When we are on really long car drives and the boredom begins to wear on our sensibilities, my husband and I have crying competitions. The man wins EVERY SINGLE TIME! He has some serious skills. He could probably give the girl at the end a run for her money. Me...I just look like "The Pooper" on this video.

And while we're on the subject of crying...

Mad about Mondays

Crestfallen, Joe walked into our living room. It was Sunday evening. The end of another glorious weekend of General Conference, candy corn hillbilly teeth, marked off To Do lists, homemade stew, stolen naps, and early morning trail running.

"I don't want to go back to work tomorrow", he whined.

Patting him on the shoulder, I agreed. I didn't want to let him go back to work either. What a drag Mondays are...for the working father and the school kids.

But for the Stay at Home Mom...Mondays are glorious!

I remember feeling that pit-in-stomach dread when I was younger and had responsibilities and obligations to teachers, professors, and employers. Vaguely. That Monday morning repulsion faded long ago with the absence of deadlines and clock-ins.

No boss breaths down my neck asking for "the Johnson file".

The only ones breathing down my neck are the little ones begging for a 9 am "Snack, Mama! SNACK!!"

In the truest sense I suppose my children are my boss. And these supervisors are more whiny, critical, and demanding than most. But they're also pretty flexible and laid back. When I say, "Let's skip the house work today and play Barbies instead ", they don't mind. When we have popcorn for dinner instead of the chicken, vegetables, and potatoes that was on the meal plan, they don't complain. When one of them is sick or hurt, they'd much rather I drop everything and cuddle. Productivity be darned.

I don't mean to agitate the working moms out there, but I can't help feeling like I've hit the jackpot here. If I want to wear pajamas until noon, change into my workout clothes to exercise, shower, and then change back into a second set of pajamas...I can. If I want to interrupt my housework to take thirty pictures of a jar casting shadows on the counter top just because I think it's beautiful...I can. If I want chocolate chip cookies for lunch...then by golly I WILL have chocolate chip cookies for lunch! As long as I share of course.

Not that being a stay at home is all cookies and comfort. It can be pretty tough sometimes. The hours are long and never ending. The chores and chaos are monotonous and relentless. Many days it is too easy to feel insignificant or trapped. Sometimes I feel tremendously guilty that I'm not giving a "real" contribution to our household or world. Every now and then, I ache to return to school and the work force for the socialization, for the paycheck, or for the change of pace.

When I was a kid, my mom had a quote hanging on the wall that I read every morning as I slammed down breakfast in my rush to get out the door to school.

“The greatest work we will ever do will be within the walls of our home.”  ~Harold B. Lee

I read it over and over again until it was ingrained on my brain, but it wasn't imprinted on my heart until I was a mom. I believe my mom had it there for her own sake and sanity. Something to remind her to keep her head up in the midst of the melancholy and the maelstrom and the mediocrity.

Stay at home motherhood may not be charming every day, but today I am grateful for it and the happiness it brings me. I know that I am never as happy as when I am in my own home, working to keep it clean and comfortable, striving to be patient and loving with my children, helping them to do homework or get dressed. I feel incredible joy when my family is well-fed, my home is organized, pictures of a happy family hang on the walls, laughter and good music ring through the rooms, and love abounds from the rafters.

And if I get to wear pajamas while doing all that...Even better.

Bring it on Monday!

Hiking with Kids: It CAN be Done! {Ghost Falls}

Our local school has a marvelous schedule. Every single Friday is a short day! Typically there isn't any homework assigned that day either. Suddenly we have a few extra free hours. I love getting a head start on our weekend!

I made a rule at the beginning of the school year that we would only have play dates on Fridays. My reasoning was that between homework, dinner prep, and soccer there just wasn't time any other day of the week. At least that's what I tell the kids. That's the truth, but the deeper truth is...I hate play dates. Yeah, yeah. I'm a rotten mom and I'll get into my reasons another day.

Today I wanted to write about what we've been doing on Fridays instead of play dates. The last couple of weeks I've been putting on my Brave Mommy cape and taking all four of my children (ages 7 years to 20 months) hiking. And as with most things that I've tried for the first time in my thirties...I wonder why the heck I didn't do this sooner.

I expected this to be so frustrating that all the fun would be sucked right out of it. If precedence showed me anything it was that my kids' legs are permanently broken. Try walking home from school with them sometime. Cue whining, crying, resistance, power struggle, drama, fighting, etc. etc. etc. It's a nightmare. And that's only half a mile.

So why on earth would I think it's a good idea to take the invalids up a mountain? Well...I have this vision. One day we shall be a healthy, happy, hiking family. Everyone will carry their own pack. We'll climb deep into the mountains helping each other up and down. Stories and laughter will be swapped while we soak in the beauties of nature. Choruses of "Kumbayah" and "Amazing Grace" will reverberate around a glowing campfire. And my children will be strong, capable, clever, interesting, well-rounded individuals. For the family that hikes together, stays together.

If I want that dream...I've got to do more than sleep. I'm planting the seeds now.

We started with Ghost Falls, in Corner Canyon near Draper, Utah. The trail takes you right by a couple of neighborhoods. It's odd to be hiking by someone's backyard. Plus I have to fight back a few pangs of jealousy--(I wish my backyard was a mountain.)--but about half a mile in you're clear of the houses. This must be a great place to mountain bike because we saw tons of bikers. Honestly, I don't get it. It looks painful and unpleasant. But to each their own.

We had hiked barely 15 minutes before the kids were asking to rest and eat. I had braced for a struggle of a "hike". Luckily, I had a friend who's an avid hiker (with her kids no less) that suggested we bring lots of snacks and plan for lots of breaks. Thanks to her my expectations were low. They did need to rest fairly often and they wanted to eat something at every stop. I packed jerky, nuts, fruit leather, Gatorade, and water. The kids carried their own little backpacks which made it extra fun for them. They collected acorns, rocks, and bright colored leaves to take home.



This is what I kept in my backpack.



I had printed off a map to bring along, but due to my inability to read a map...we ended up taking the long way in and out. When all was said and done, we hiked well over 4 miles!! I was so proud of my kids! On the way up I kept asking if they wanted to stop and turn back, but they wanted to make it all the way to Ghost Falls and kept pressing on. Coming down, you could tell their energy level was waning. I had to entice them with chocolate to make it to the very end. But they did make it!

Ghost Falls

Four miles was a little long for my kids, especially for their first time. I'm afraid it killed their enthusiasm for hiking a bit, but I promised them we wouldn't go that far again. Still, I just couldn't help being so proud of them for accomplishing something like that! Especially my four year old who I expected to tank out early on. She kept right up with the rest of them with a smile on her face and a song on her lips. Gosh! I have great kids!



Mountain maidens



And now for more pictures!



Baby Cee's favorite part? All that dirt!




"I want to be a rock climber when I grow up!" ~Dee (7 yo)





Acorns! All over the place! So cute!




WE DID IT! Dee kept asking if we were going to be on the front page of the newspaper since we were the first ones to hike this mountain. He makes me laugh.






"I love to see the temple!"
My favorite picture of the day. We hiked up past the Draper LDS temple. What a beautiful view!

 

So...hiking with kids. It can happen. Just bring lots of snacks, water, and patience. Plan for a chocolate stop at the end. And learn how to read a map. More of our hiking adventures later...

Three for Thursday: Selfish Mommy

Blogging seems to be my little indulgent thing I've been doing for myself this week. So why not take it another step and really get self-centered? It's all about me today! At least for the next fifteen minutes. Then someone has to feed those dang kids, do that pile of laundry, and solve the other 13 million problems around here. *sigh*

Three things I accomplished over the summer:
1. Ran my first half marathon
2. Did fairly well at consistently doing "Adventure Days" with my kids
3. Learned how to make homemade tamales

Three things I would do if I had three hours all to myself:
1. Wander around wondering what on earth to do with myself for three hours
2. Treat myself to some fresh sushi, a pedicure, and a real movie at a real movie theater.
3. Hike

Three things I want for Christmas:
1. Lego Lord of the Rings for the Wii
2. A food processor
3. A box of See's chocolates

Three things I would like to learn how to do in the next year:
1. Shop confidently in an Asian grocery store
2. Pressure cooking and canning
3. Bake delicious gluten-free bread and other baked goods from scratch

Three guilty pleasures:
1. The belly dancing part of Zumba
2. Thrift store shopping (especially for jars)
3. Shaytard YouTube videos

Three pictures: (Gotta squeeze the kids in here somewhere!)

Breakfast. The Most Important Meal of the Day. *Bodyguards included.

Giiiiirrrl! You work those leg warmers!



"I love to see the temple! I'm going there someday!"



Crushed

Miracles do exist. I'm here blogging two days in a row, aren't I? Miracle.

I wish it was about something more positive though. I'm finding myself in such a funk today. It all began last Thursday night...

That evening, I had the opportunity to donate blood for the first time in ten years. The Red Cross still had my maiden name on file, that's how long it has been.

I used to work as a phlebotomist and emergency department technician among other medical professions so I tend to get a little giddy around needles and blood. (You don't even have to tell me I'm twisted. I know.) My mental faculties were not what they should be. Blame it on the aforementioned twisted giddiness and loss of blood. I walked through the door upon my return home and there was my husband, brother-in-law, and a smattering of children sitting at the dinner table. A fantastic opportunity for random goofiness if there ever was one.

I fainted.

And it was a glorious production. I was committed. I fell and fell hard. Full body meets carpet. Right on my bag. Which had my phone in it.

Good grief. I may have lost 90 plus pounds, but nothing will call out your inner fat girl quicker than totally demolishing your phone simply by falling on it.

Several days later, I have a new phone (Thank you, Insurance Plan), but let me tell you what I don't have. I don't have $100 (No thank you, Insurance Plan Deductible). I don't have months upon months of calender notes. And I don't have five months worth of pictures and video. (I had been using my phone as my primary source of photography.) The guy at the Verizon store tried, but he just couldn't revive my phone. Death...by fat girl fake fainting. The dumbest reason ever for having to replace your phone.

A girl (fat or not) could cry.

Which I have to keep fighting the urge to do. That stupid little thing was my brain. I have no idea what commitments I have made over the next few months. I have no record of what happened over the summer. I have no pictures of my children from the entire summer. I don't even know when to expect my next period. (Judging by the unreasonable feelings of hostility and desperation I am experiencing about this whole thing...probably any day now.) 

?@%&*?!!@#FS*&>+!&^!@#$#%#$$@*&?!?! UGH!!!!!!!

I've got to stop writing about it or I may combust.

Note to self and note to you: STOP LEARNING THINGS THE HARD WAY!!! BACK UP EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!

K.I.S.S.

I've been aching to get back in to blogging, but every time I sit down to do so (if I even get that far) I either draw a blank or draw a novel that is far too long to be posted. Either way...nothing is happening.

Today I have decided to make out with my computer, or more correctly...K.I.S.S. blogging style.

That would be Keep It Simple Stupid in case you lived under a rock in junior high.

My timer is set for 15 minutes. Whatever I type gets published at the end of it.

Ready??? GO!

Today I cleaned, labeled, and packed away the last batch of canning for the year. 13 more quarts of peaches. So pretty. I canned for years in my mother's kitchen, but I was usually placed in the middle of an estrogen-filled assembly line so I failed to truly learn how to CAN. This year I vowed that I would learn how to can all by myself. How did I let myself take this long to do it?!

It's so doable! It's so rewarding! It's so--dare I say--fun!

This year I canned tomatoes, peaches, and raspberry jam ALL BY MYSELF. (My inner Red Hen is practically bursting at the seams.)  Then my sister and I worked together to make applesauce, but this time I made sure to see how every part of the process was done so that next year I can do it alone.

Next year...Pressure canning. (Eeep.)

Other than canning, I've been busy playing chauffeur and tutor. I have three kids in school this year (wahoo!). Dee is in second grade, Jeigh is in first, and Elle is in preschool. Baby Cee just makes sure to wave and blow kisses anytime anyone is headed out.

Every year I am shocked at the amount of homework assigned to school children. It can be such a struggle to get homework done every night in any kind of a timely manner. And it doubly frustrates me because as soon as homework is done, it's time to make dinner. Then it's time to eat dinner. Then it's time for bed. And our day is totally gone. I can't help mourning the loss of my children a bit. Even if I do enjoy the quiet, clean house for a few hours while they're all gone. Ahh the beautiful conflict.

What else can I say in 6 minutes?

Can you believe it's October?! I'm simultaneously delighted and distraught. (This seems to be a common theme with me.) What a fantastic time of year! The sights, the smells, the sensations. I love it all! But, really, who doesn't?

Well, that's all the randomness I can produce for today. Tomorrow? I'll pucker up again.

Three for Thursday: Having Kids is Like being Pecked to Death by Ducks

It's been another long week. Any week that Joe is gone and I'm single-momming it is long. My patience has been shorter than the fingernails my son nibbles on incessantly. I'm afraid Fun Mommy was killed, stuffed, and mounted on the wall by Angry Mommy. Therefore...my Three for Thursday is not the most fuzzy, warm, positive post. In fact, it's more of a mommy rant. Ahh. Such is life.

Three things I used to like before I had kids:
1. animals
2. long drives
3. swimming

Three things I like now that I have kids:
1. Halloween
2. short haircuts
3. bedtime

Three things I gave up when I gave birth:
1. the ability to be on time
2. Crockpot Cream Cheese Chicken (gag)
3. TV

Three things I can't get under control no matter how much I try:
1. the neatness of my craft area
2. my girls' drawers (It never fails. Dirty clothes in the dresser. Clean clothes on the floor. EVERY SINGLE BLOODY DAY!)
3. my insomnia

Three things I don't understand:
1. things that end in -ics: politics, economics, statistics, quantum physics, psychics, bulimics, lunatics
2. Firefly (what's the big deal?)
3. my third child

Three pictures:

I was about ready to auction this kid off the to the highest bidder. And now look at her...Geez. I love being a mom.

Did I ever mention that we had our first Tamalada (tamale making party)? And that it was muy fantastico! Not to mention muy delicioso!

My parents have new neighbors. And their little boy (can you spot him?) likes to come hang out with all the kids when we gather at my parents' house. Somehow he's ended up in almost every picture of the kids that we take during holidays and special occasions. May the red headed step child jokes ensue. 

P.S. Remember my Super Mario Party Pack Giveaway! It ends Monday at midnight!

Nine Years of Wedded Bliss

Today is our ninth wedding anniversary!

Wowza! Where does the time go???

While nine years of wedded bliss is something to celebrate...there's no one here to celebrate it with me. Well, except for four kids. Three of which have snotty noses and gunky coughs and one of those which has yet another ear infection. Super.

While I nurse all the sickos back to health with some homemade chicken noodle soup (so what if it's over 100 degrees outside?!) and a few uninterrupted hours of Netflix, husband Joe is once again off on another business trip.

Sigh. So typical.

Even though he may be absent, I'm so grateful for the hardworking man he is and the dedication he gives to providing for our little family. I love the good, good person he is through and through. He is gentle and kind and sensible. He is calm and down to earth and has managed to balance my wild, erratic side out a bit over the our marriage. He has a sense of humor that sneaks up and attacks you when you're least expecting it and he's managed to keep me laughing for the last nine years.

I love you Joe! Thank you for marrying me and staying married to me through the thick and the thin.

And to celebrate, albeit solo, why not take a walk down memory lane? Here are nine memories and nine pictures from our wedding day back on July 11th, 2003.

1. I didn't sleep very well the night before our wedding. I woke--wide awake--at 3 am and couldn't fall back asleep. I decided to go ahead and start the beautification process for the early wedding ceremony. When I swung my feet over the side of my bed I heard a loud squish. Or was it more of a subdued splash? Either way, it was quickly apparent that my parents' basement had flooded during the night. Side note: the reception was held in my parents' backyard that evening.

2. Joe cried, nay, bawled through the entire temple sealing ceremony. I was really hoping he did so because he was overwhelmed with my beauty...And not because he realized there was no going back now.

3. For LDS couples that marry in the temple, it's rather a big moment when they exit the temple doors as a newly sealed couple. The family and friends gather around the doors and wait for this joyous moment. I didn't realize this and kind of made a hasty exit from the temple...sans new husband. I was quickly corrected and rerouted, reentered the building, grabbed the hand of my newly attained eternal partner, and then made a more graceful exit...this time with husband in tow. 

4. My dad owned a small limo business at the time and insisted on driving the newly married couple home from the temple. All 104 miles. With the privacy partition rolled completely down the entire way. Thanks Dad. Thanks a lot.

5. On the way home from the temple we stopped at a Sprint store so I could pay my overdue cell phone bill.

6. Our reception started at 6 pm. About 5:56 pm I realized I was so exhausted that I really didn't want to stand and smile anymore. But the show must go on, eh?

7. In an exuberant (translation: stupid) moment I jumped up into my groom's arms with a passionate (translation: awkward) embrace...and ripped the zipper out of the entire length of the back of my wedding dress. I spent that last hour of our reception held together with nothing more than two dozen safety pins and a prayer.

8. My dear sweet husband was so proper he wouldn't even kiss me "enthusiastically" until after the reception.

9. Confession: For all my teasing about his propriety...I was kind of--okay, really--nervous to get in the car and drive away from my family and friends and childhood home with nothing but my new husband and ZERO physical boundaries.

So, as I reminisce about our wedding day I'm realizing there was an abundance of clumsy, awkward, and calamity. And what a beautiful, awkward, magical, exhausting, calamitous, cherished day it was!

Getting Back my Groove with a Giveaway!

I'm trying to get back into my blogging groove again. It hasn't been easy; I still feel like I'm recouping from the cowgirl birthday party we just had for my (brand new) four year old Elle this past weekend. It was a fantastic party, but I have vowed to never do that again. I've realized that I am turning into one of those Pinterest Moms that I despise. You know the kind...The mom that turns their kid into a brat because of loads of overdone parties (as well as lots of other overdone stuff too I imagine).

I didn't used to be like this. We used to just to do cake and a few presents with our little immediate family. I'm not exactly sure what sparked the party planning passion this year. Remember the Super Mario Bros. Party I did earlier this year for my son? And then there was the Rainbow Party for the youngest, Cee, when she turned one (I'm not sure I ever posted pictures for that one).

Now this Cowgirl Party has pushed it too far. At least that's what my husband says. I hate to say it, but...he's right. It's time to tame it down. We can't afford the time or money to do this every year for all four of our children. And if each party has to be bigger and better than the last...where will it end? (Bankruptcy, juvenile detention, or a psychologist's office, that's where.)

I know there's a happy medium in this somewhere...

But look at me. I have wandered far from the post I had intended to write. Ahem. Pardon me.

What I meant to say here is...

Yeah! for blogging! And to celebrate a (hopefully dedicated) return to blogging I wanted to host a giveaway! The Party Works, a website that offers a multitude of party supplies, stumbled upon my Super Mario Bros. party post and has offered to give a Super Mario Bros. Party Pack for 8 to one of my readers! Pretty cool, huh?

To enter the giveaway, leave a comment below telling me just why you like to read Hanging by a Silver Lining or what one of your favorite posts of mine were. Shameless I know, but we could all use a little ego boost every now and then, right?

For extra entries, share this giveaway on Facebook or your own blog. Make sure to leave a new comment along with a blog link and your email address for each thing that you do.

The giveaway will close Monday the 16th at midnight and the winner will be announced on Tuesday the 17th.

P.S. Sorry to any international friends but this prize can only be shipped within the United States.

Jar Love #91: Candy Bar

This one was on my bucket list.

I saw a blog years ago where a mother of 4 little boys had her very own homemade candy store in her kitchen. Jars upon jars of bright, beautiful, colorful, sweet, tempting candy just sitting on her counter top! 

GASP! Isn't that against the Code Book of Momhood or something?!

But I couldn't shake the image from my head. I'm not the biggest candy fan. I mean, come on, I'm not crazy. I won't turn down the occasional cinnamon bear or Bit O' Honey, but I'm more of a chocolate kind of gal. All this sweet, sticky, sugary stuff isn't all that tempting to me.

But isn't it pretty? Candy is my favorite decoration for parties (which by the way is the reason all this candy came to be in our house. Elle's fourth birthday was just last weekend. She picked out most of these from the bulk section of our local Winco grocery store. This is a new favorite birthday tradition in our little family.) It's just so appealing to the eye. And in jars?! Good gracious green gumballs almighty!

My kids surprisingly haven't gone hog wild on it. I had a friend in elementary school that had loads of candy at her house all the time. I remember being so shocked by it. My mom would NEVER have done such a thing. But her mom felt that if it was in the house all the time, it wouldn't be a temptation. She might have had a point in that my friend and her sisters were some of the thinnest girls I knew. *shrugs shoulders*

P.S. All jars were purchased at local thrift stores.

P.P.S. The candy was not. Purchased. At local thrift stores that is. Eww.