little wild horses

I often think about the fact that my kids have no concept of how exceptional their surroundings are.  They climb mountains, ski down them, visit national parks (often), and have been exposed to some of the most unique back country wilderness that I have seen in my life - all before my eldest even finishes elementary school.

Heck, our views on our walk to the bus stop would stop any flat-landers in their tracks.

Our visit to southern Utah this spring was no exception.  Amidst all the hiking memories we have created as a family, Little Wild Horse Canyon stands out easily as my favorite.

As much as I really enjoy writing stories, this time the pictures are really worth a thousand words.

My men are already talking about hiking this one again.

for jules

For my sophomore year of college, I transferred from a smaller satellite campus of my university to the main campus.  I was assigned to an all girls dorm that was set up in suites, having four bedrooms attached to a living area.

Julie lived in the bedroom next door to me and was a junior that year.  Her kind heart and loads of sarcastic humor made us fast friends.  She probably doesn't know it, but she was one of the major reasons that I enjoyed living there.  Okay, maybe she does.

The following year, Jules and I started working on the school newspaper together.  That required lots of procrastinating and pulling our stories out of thin air at the eleventh hour all nighters to get that very serious piece of journalism published each week.

We laughed a lot.  We ate a lot of pizza.  We cranked the music and danced in the newspaper office a lot.  Did I mention that we laughed?

Right now it would be hilarious to go in my basement and dig up some embarrassing photos of our college years - like the time Julie put on a paper pleated Christmas tree skirt as a real skirt - complete with black high heels.

But it's late and I'm too tired.  If I can muster the mojo chunk of time tomorrow to dive down that rabbit hole, I will.

Jules and I have always had a bond and after I got married we lost touch for a bit (definitely my fault).  After catching up at a friends wedding several years ago in Denver (where I got to meet her delightful, hilarious, and perfectly matched husband Jeff), we started sending Christmas cards and occasional emails.

Through that time, I found out that as grown adults, Julie and I share a heart and hurt for orphans.  She and Jeff have three beautiful biological children and have taken the leap of faith to apply to adopt a baby boy from Ethiopia.

They have completed all of their paperwork and are in "queue" for a referral to their son.  They have been chosen for a fundraiser this month by "Go. Seek. Love."

Visit Julie's blog or go straight to the Go. Seek. Love. website.  For each purchase, or simply spreading the word via any social media, you will be entered to win a $20 Amazon gift card.

Did you hear that?  NO PURCHASE NECESSARY!!!  But once you look at the cute t-shirts, you'll want one.

Let's bring this boy home to his amazing forever family.

dear 22 year-old self

Dear 22 year-old Self,

Remember that guy that your roommate suggested you should date and you responded that he was a little nerdy for your taste?  Well, that guy man will be your husband soon.

After knowing him for 15 years and being married to him for 14 of those years, I'd like to give you some advice and wisdom I've gathered.

First of all, NERDY IS GOOD!!!  Remember the "cool" guys that flattered you with a glance or a short conversation during your high school and college years?  Yeah, those guys, you know which ones.  They flattered you because clearly they thought more of themselves than of others - namely you. 

Those guys are not the ones who will ask permission for a first kiss or bring you a rose as a public declaration of his pursuit of you.

You thought getting along with your parents was tough?  You, my sweet young lady, are about to enter into the toughest relationship of your life.  But being difficult does not mean it is without rewards.

It is also the most rewarding and fulfilling relationship you'll have with another human being.

First of all, when he proposes, just say YES!  Don't stumble over your words and tell him to shut up.  Sure, it makes a good story later, but give the guy a break.

You'll do great with the wedding plans, but get a better photographer.  The dress will (quickly) go out of fashion, the flowers wither, but the photos will be looked at by your children's children.

Yup, there will be children.  I'll get to that part, be patient.

Read this and this before the wedding.  Then read the first one again because it is just that important.

The first couple of years of marriage are going to be a roller coaster.  The poor guy did not have any sisters and thank God he never lived with any women but his mother.  (No, falling asleep on your couch in college does not count.  Even if he did wake up the next day.)

Take all the ups and downs less personally.  Don't get upset during the first year when he wants his own space in your bed so that he can actually sleep.  He was used to sleeping by himself, it's not personal.

Define some limits about what neither of you will ever say during arguments or within your marriage at all.  It will cause less pain to decide that at the front end of the relationship rather than learning it the hard way.  Learning the hard way sucked.

Prepare yourself to move around the country a bit.  The man you're about to marry is wired for success.  He gets bored when he masters one thing, so get ready to change and adapt.  He might even decide to move your family across the country without discussing it with you first.  He'll only do that once though, so go with it. 

Those qualities make him a wonderful provider though and when it is your time to quit your paying job and raise those little ones, you can trust that he will take care of you all financially.

Never lose sight of taking care of him first and foremost.

I will let you in on a little secret.  Your husband's love languages are "quality time" and "words of affirmation."  Prioritize those and love him well.

You are NOT his Holy Spirit.  Talk less.  Pray more.  Seek God.  Wait on God.  God will work on your husband.

When those promised children come along, you can study all the books and parenting programs that you want, but it is still a learn-as-you-go-with-each-individual-child process.  Be flexible because kids are not a "one size fits all" rule.  Even though they are all boys.

Yup, boys.  All of them.  When you least expect it, there might be a little estrogen in the mix.  Just wait.

Regardless of the curve balls parenting will throw at you, you must keep your marriage as the top priority.   When other women stand in disbelief at the number of days he spends hunting, you just kiss him good bye, tell him to bring home a lot of meat for the freezer, and remind him that there will be good reasons to come home.  Wink wink.

Speaking of staying home, SERVE.  Serve your family with a thankful heart.  I'm sure I will be writing a letter to the 36 year-old Self in another 14 years that talks about cherishing the time you have before they all grow up and move out.  So when you're 29 and in the thick of little ones needing you all.the.time. and a husband who (thank God) wants quality time with you, die to that selfish desire to get in your car and drive to TJMaxx away for that coveted "me time."

During particularly stressful times, your man will convert his stress to conflict.  Again, this isn't anything personal.  He carries the weight of a large family and drive for success on his shoulders.  Job change or financial stress can cause him to act like a jerk.  I am writing to remind you that you are no gem when you're PMS-ing, sleep deprived, or in labor (to mention just a few of many examples), so give grace as you would like to receive grace.

When he acts like a jerk, don't EVER complain to or confide in anyone who doesn't already love him and think the best of him.  It will be so important to have women in your life who will tell you that, "Yes, he is acting like a jerk.  He is a wonderful man (and here is why), now go home and treat him well."

You will be shocked as marriages around you dissolve into divorce.  You will be wise to have a very real conversation with that man of yours about protecting your relationship, because clearly, no one is safe from that danger.

And after 14 years of marriage, he will still:

• kiss you first (then the kids) when he walks in the door from work.
• kiss you randomly and with passion when he walks through a room you're in (to the point that your older kids will tell you to get a room).
• want to spend time with you and will weigh his attendance of social activities with missing out on hanging out with you.
• laugh at your jokes and sarcasm.
• be interested in your writing pursuits and read each one several times.
• compliment your outfits, even when you're feeling pretty ordinary.
• care about and invest in what you want out of life.
• periodically ask for feedback as to how he can be a better husband to you.

Cherish that my dear.  Work like mad to be the best wife you can be and then take each day and enjoy it!

Because 14 years goes quickly.  Your parents are right on that one and so am I.

Love, Your 36 year-old Self

my tenth mother's day

A decade of Mother's Days?  Really?

My man has come a long way.  Ten years ago on my very first Mother's Day as a mom, I held my sweet little six week old baby in my arms, all bleary eyed and lacking sleep.  I was excited to receive whatever sentimental treasure my Beloved had carefully chosen for me out of immeasurable gratitude for birthing, nourishing, and caring for his son.

The blank stare accompanied by a, "What? You're not MY mother!" was not quite what I had in mind.

If anything, he is a quick study, because that was the one and only time that has happened in a decade.  I'm sure my hormonal tears told him all he needed to know.

He's going to love me for telling that story.  Anyhoo. 

This year, we escaped the land of eternal winter to soak up some heat in Moab (again).

We enjoyed an adventurous weekend of camping and hiking and eating and getting red sand in every possible crack and crevice.

Did I mention that it was 90 degrees?  I loved it - even when my deoderant stopped working.  Heck, I even loved it when Kenyon's deoderant stopped working.

The best Mother's Day card came from my sweet eight year-old Sauce.  At the risk of giving him a good reason to put me in a crappy nursing home someday, I am going to share his card here.

The front:

The inside:
  That boy has a way with words, don't you think?

shiver me timbers!

sick-of-winter-fever

Some call it "Spring Fever."  But seeing that winter in the mountains lasts well into May and it doesn't surprise us to see a dusting of snow in early June, we have renamed the fever.

Each April, we get the itch.  South....must....go....south!  It is still winter here, but a four hour drive south to Moab will usually plop us in temperatures in the 70's or 80's.

This year we had a campground reservation, but had to change it to a hotel reservation due to a forecast of unusually chilly nights.  Daytime temps were to be in the mid 60's and that is double the Park City temps where we were blessed with got 12 inches of snow per day that we were away.

I can handle sleeping in the cold.  My big boys can handle sleeping in the cold.  But my littles?  I'm pretty sure they'd be miserable.  And if the littles ain't happy, Mama ain't happy.

And if Mama ain't happy.... well you get the picture.

So, we packed up the new family truckster "Ruby" (Beloved took a new job = no company car = newer used Suburban for Mama = older, kid "loved", very unmanly minivan for my Beloved) for her first road trip.

We've never had a DVD player in any car before.  It wasn't on our want list for a vehicle, but this one came with it.  Can you tell it is their first time?  We don't really sit them four across - we were just testing the headphones.

A couple of movies later, we were in Moab.  Our first adventure was the giant sand dune across from Arches National Park.  A lovely FREE piece of fun that you can just drive up to and play.  Hours of entertainment for four boys, exercise for Mom and Dad, and we (almost) felt like we were at the beach!  I guess we were, but there was no water, just desert.

Next, we saw some of these.  Just as Kenyon was commenting how despicable it is that people carve their names into the rock next to historical art, he looked down to see Rufus finishing letter number three of his name.  Luckily, some sand washed it off, but we were laughing for the rest of the trip about it.

One thing that tends to define us when we hike is that my husband we always tend to push the boys past their limit and into the depths of exhaustion.  Our first day we hiked eight miles.  My Beloved would argue that it made them into the tough hikers that they are today.  I argue that it just makes for a cranky bunch of boys on their way to the car.

The perks of hiking great distances are these:

 

AND there's this view at the "end".

I'm saving the best for last.  Check back for the story of our most fascinating hike ever (picture "127 Hours" but with both arms).

Also, just a teaser - I'll share one of our most humbling parenting moments.

snapshots

By default, faceb**k has become my streaming blog.  But in honor of the giant winter storm that is blowing through my neighborhood today, I thought I should post some pictures and video of our winter.
Snow and skiing.  Skiing and snow.  That about sums it up.
Sauce, now called "Cannonball" on his ski race team - in the zone.
Even my little Squirt is up and running on skis this year.
Again - he loves an audience, so I have many pictures of Cannonball in the air.  He will wait at the top of a jump until someone is for sure watching him before he takes off.

This is the boy who won third place in the final state championships - and had a proud mama!

Oh, what is that I see?  Cannonball in the air again?  This time there is a ski coach laying under him to up the stakes a bit!
I actually skied about 15 days this season (compared to the 50+ that each man in my family has skied).  My dear friend Erin treated me to a free ski day at D**r Valley (normally too rich for my blood).  And that's Ashley in the middle.  She was about 12 months pregnant with cute little baby Cooper, so no skiing for her but she came and met us for lunch.  If she didn't she knew we'd talk about her the entire time ;-).
When a ski coach needs the kids to have a visual aid, here you go.
Kindergarten play dates take on a whole new meaning in a ski town.  Here's Rufus (on the right) with his friend Nathaniel "out playing."
Did I mention that we had more company than our cleaning lady I could keep up with?  Here's my dear friend Reeny laughing when Sauce tried to get her to go down a black diamond run with him.  Not a chance.
My sister Amy and her family were the first of our many visitors.  She is in pink getting dragged around the mountain by my maniacs.
And in case that wasn't enough - here is the moving picture version of those maniacs.  They are all Rockstars in my book.
AND - it is still snowing.  The end.

another date

Remember my date with Grace??

Last week I had the pleasure of meeting another one of my purely online friends.  I had been reading her blog for quite some time when, unfortunately, a great tragedy struck and our lives were connected beyond blogs and mothering boys.

Kathy is my friend Darcy's sister in-law.  Darcy gave birth to a sweet little boy a couple of weeks ago and Kathy came in from the middle of nowhere Nebraska for a visit.

Guess who insisted upon being her airport shuttle????

Despite only getting to hang out with her for less than an hour, I so enjoyed meeting face to face and sealing our long distance friendship with a hug!

Stay tuned, because in a few months I have a date to meet this mom of boys face to face for the first time.  We've only been putting "hope to someday share a cup of coffee" notes in our Christmas cards for about three years now!  Can't wait Nicole!

a marathon, not a sprint

I'm tired.

I would have trained for this parenting marathon more effectively if I had known the endurance that it would take.

We started school in August, yet in February I still battle:

• not brushing teeth before it's time to leave
• not putting on socks as part of getting dressed
• occasionally "forgetting" to do homework assignments
• very often neglecting to empty lunch boxes and put away backpacks and coats

Aside from school related issues, my children have been asked to clear their plates and cups after every meal since each one was barely three years old.  Yet somehow, there is the daily illusion that a housekeeper will do it (until Mom calls them back and then the remember that they forgot).

We have never tolerated lying.  Truth telling is a non-negotiable in our home.  But alas, this morning I battled a certain son to fess up about taking gum from my purse without asking.  An offense I most certainly would have responded with a simple request to not take without asking.

But now I have to give a much more severe consequence for the lie.

I have one son who is well beyond potty training years who can't seem to make time to go to the bathroom.  We have been to a number of medical doctors, a therapist, purchased a watch with a vibrating reminder alarm, talked to his teacher, given rewards, and imposed consequences.

Still, no consistent success.

And I'm tired!

As I walked back alone from the bus stop this morning I felt defeated.  I'm the first to admit to my many faults, but I generally take a little pride in putting "my all" into parenting.  Consistent expectations, consistent discipline, consistent love, and consistent involvement are all keys to successful parenting.

Or so I thought.

That short walk home was enough time for one word to stand out to me.

Pride.

Me taking pride?

Opposite of pride - HUMILITY.

Suddenly, I find myself humbled because I don't really know any of the answers.  I'm running this marathon without knowing where the next sharp turn or mountain ascent will be.  Pride has no place here because I have never run this race before.  I didn't even train for it.

So, I open my front door and kick off my snow boots newly humbled.  If I knew all the answers and could do this on my own, why in the world would I have need to ask God for help and active involvement in my life?

I have no answers of my own - but the truth of His word surfaces.

I have no confidence in my abilities - but I know:

• He will never leave me. (Joshua 1:5)
• His grace is sufficient (to cover for my screw ups) and His power is made perfect in my (many) weakness(es). (2 Corinthians 12:9)
• His mercies are new every morning. (Lamentations 3:22-23)
  

I'm clinging to those simple truths this morning.

the knucklehead chronicles - part two

First, read part one.

Now, for EXHIBIT B:

School has interfered with my ability to fit in timely haircuts for the boys.  I comb their hair every morning as they are gulping down their cereal.

However, I don't inspect the condition of their eyebrows.

One Friday afternoon, The Hunter had his best school buddy over to play and I heard a lot of snickering and, "Don't tell her," going on.

I'm okay with a secret as long as it is okay to be a secret, you know what I mean?  So after asking if their secret was an appropriate secret, being reassured that it was, more laughter and whispering, I ignored the knuckleheads.

Suddenly, the secret was killing him.  He showed up in the kitchen and said that he can't keep it from me any longer.  He lifted his long hair away from his forehead.....

and I nearly peed in my pants.

While taking a shower in our bathroom, he decided to experiment with his dad's razor.  Instead of shaving his leg or his arm, the parts that a woman might see as logical he went for his EYEBROW.

At this rate, I fear puberty.  Knucklehead.

an excellent read

One thing I really enjoy doing with my boys (glasses or no glasses) is reading.  I think it is a no brainer when they are younger because they love any age appropriate children's book.  We have some old favorites, but through about the age of six, we could pull random books off the shelves at the library and they would be happy little bookworms.

The Hunter and Sauce are getting a bit trickier.  Sure, they love the ever popular "Magic Tree House" series as well as "The Boxcar Children."  They will often take these to bed and read to themselves at bedtime.

But I work to stretch them and broaden their horizons.  I like to go to the library by myself and scan the chapter books for something that I know they will really enjoy, but that they wouldn't necessarily choose themselves.

And then, because I know they are going to love a certain book, I read it aloud to them.

I'm selfish like that.

I LOVE to hear their giggles and gasps and, "Oh man!"  I get such enjoyment from the begging for just one more chapter.  I cherish the moments when I'm tucking them in and they ask me who my favorite character is or what I think will happen next.

We just finished reading one of those books that we will likely remember for years to come.

"Because of Mr. Terupt" caught my eye because as I flipped through the 260+ pages, I could see that the chapters were randomly titled with the same seven first names (Peter, Alexia, Luke, Jeffrey, Danielle, Anna, Jessica).  The summary said that the story revolved around one phenomenal fifth grade teacher and seven (very different) students from his class told the story.

I knew that a story led by a creative, enthusiastic teacher would catch my big boys' attention.  They are in the thick of experiencing the ups and downs of classroom learning, both socially and academically.  Often, they will question WHY they must learn a certain concept.  Other times, they will come home with a story of how another student said something mean for no reason at all.

I know that kids can be just plain mean for no reason, but I thought the different points of view would really open my sons' eyes and give them perspective that their fellow students are often more than meets the eye.  Also, I knew they would enjoy the creative and dynamic teacher that Mr. Terupt would prove to be.

I was right.  We finished the book in a grand total of four days.  In every spare moment, they were asking me to read "just one more chapter."  I had to hide the book when we had a babysitter one night because I knew they would finish it without me. 

They laughed out loud at Luke's "dollar word" habit (you'll never guess).  They started out hating Alexia, and then they learned to understand her.  They cracked up at the plant experiment and seeing the principal's wedgie.  All so perfect for elementary boys.

Although we are an in tact family, I know that many of their friends are struggling in broken homes.  I loved the real life "behind the scenes" perspective it gave them on grief, loss, judging others, and freely giving to those who may appear not to have anything to give in return such as special needs kids.

Although painful at times, this story dove into all of those topics without dealing my kids anything that I felt was inappropriate for their ages.  I felt it was so valuable to process through these types of feelings through a fictional experience.

If you have a third grade level reader or above, I emphatically recommend this book.  I was so glad that I didn't just hand it to one of my boys to read alone.  There were so many life lessons and discussion starters and we are all a bit more wise and compassionate because of it.