Friendship

Here's to my friends, my true friends.
The friends that I can see everyday for a year or just one day a year and it is never awkward.
The friends that make me feel like I am a kid without making me act like one.
The friends that know the difference between being honest and being mean.

Here's to my friends who know that they are not first on my priority list and are grateful they are not.
The friends that know when to leave me alone and when to come banging on my door.
The friends that recognize my faults but point out my perfections.
The friends that make my feel closer to my Savior after a long conversation on the doorstep.

Here's to my friends that know I found my "Best Friend" on a day I was dressed in white,
The friends that tell me no because they are with their families.
The friends that keep their eye on the eternal prize and encourage me to do the same.

Long gone are the days of sleepovers, "BFF" charm bracelets, and whispering in the corner.
Now are the days of friendship that is enriching, eternal, and loving.

You know who you are without me saying it.
Here's to my friends!

Trying to keep your kids entertained all while picking up the house can be very difficult at times. I try to get my house cleaned every morning but I find the my kids get bored so quickly that they are either killing each other or killing the rooms that I just cleaned. I find that it takes me twice as long because I have to clean every room two or three times before I am done. Recently I discovered a little game that seems to solve this problem; at least for a minute anyway.
The other day while I was loading my dishwasher, I stumbled into a game. Tylie was in the living room and I started to tease her that she had to stay on the carpet. If she strayed onto the tile, the mean troll would snatch her and take her away. The carpet is her only safe zone. I know this seems silly but she grabbed onto this and giggled relentlessly. For the next forty-five minutes, mommy got to clean the kitchen to spotless while the mean troll would sporadically spring after a little girl who dared to tread on the tile. It would take her some time to build up the courage for each daring trip so, while the troll was lying in wait, mommy got some good cleaning time. The best part of this is that Mason even got in on the action and was mesmerized by the whole show. Although it took me much longer to clean the kitchen because I had to keep breaking for the attacks, when I was done, the house was still clean and I got some playing time in with my kids. Ever since then, Tylie insists that I clean the kitchen so we can play again. I never thought I would hear my daughter beg me to clean. It cracks me up. So, here is to all the mama's out there who have to be creative with their parenting!

Potty time

The time has come. Or maybe I should say, I forced the time to come because I was ready for it. I decided last week that Mason was starting potty training. It was kind of a spur of the moment decision. I have been told over and over again that boys are sooooo much harder than girls and age two-and-a-half to three is pretty standard for them. This has been a hard pill to swallow for me because Tylie was completely trained by the time she turned two and I really liked that. I started with Mason understanding that this might not be easy. I told myself that although he might not be ready, I am. So with that I needed to be open to some failures and regression. I knew that I needed to watch him carefully and not push him too hard. Especially with my little man. He is as stubborn as his mama and I knew that if I didn't pitch this as his idea, he was not going to do it. This is an ever so delicate balance but with enough skittles and "choo-choo" underwear (thomas the train), I thought I might have a shot. It was a target the size of a pea and I was standing at the other end of the field but, after changing another poopy diaper, it was a shot I was willing to risk. Well, thanks to Mason helping me aim, it is a shot that I am happy to announce we nailed right on. Mason has done amazingly well. I dare say, even better than Tylie. It took him a couple of days to figure out the control of things and recognize that he had to go but since then, it has been smooth sailing. I have not had to change a dirty diaper for 3 days and no, he is not constipated. He also just finished his second day of underwear all day with no accidents. Wahoooooooo! If you live in Utah county and you think you hear a coyote howling at the moon at night, you are wrong. It is me giving praises to the potty gods that convinced my crazy boy that this is a good idea. So, chalk it up. Write it in ink in the record books. Mason made something easier on me than Tylie did. And it is the thing that everyone told me not to expect. But, come to think of it, that is just the way that Mason would like to have it. Completely unexpected.
P.S. Gotta love Halloween!

Halloween tradition!

Every year Jake's mom throws a halloween that even the most ghoulish monsters would want to attend. Although she always guarantees a good time, this year was definitely among my favorites. Sundee.... these pictures are for you. As much fun as we had, there is always a hole caused by your absence that we simply cannot deny. And Kelsey, we missed you too. I am looking forward to seeing Malibu Barbie again next year. Who knows.... maybe she will have a Ken on her arm. Hope you enjoy the pics.

Stupid editor, leave me alone!

So.... Jake was mocking me last night because he said that my blog entries are too long. He states that people don't give a flying leap about what I have to say and they only want to see pictures. Well, this does not bode well with me because I often write long blogs with no pictures. I tried to attack this disagreement from many different angles. I told him that I blog because I want to be able to look back on my life and laugh when I am fifty years old. I said that if other people read it and enjoy it, Great! If not, whatever. He told me that is what a journal is for, not a public website. I told him that many people have told me that they laughed at some of my stories and they seem to enjoy them. To this he just rolled his eyes. He is not much for public humiliation. We are very different in this way. Then I just waved him off and told him that although he is an editor, he is not my editor. I told him to leave me alone and don't bug me. This is the line I always use when I am exhausted by him and can't carry on any further. So, in honor of Jake, I am not going to tell any fabulous story today or laughable idiocy I performed. I am just going to say that I am sad that fall is here and winter is around the corner. My mom's garden is frost bitten and dying. My children are wearing jackets. My furnace has been kicked on. I am just enjoying that last bit of fresh garden tomatoes while I can before I have to start buying the wax versions at the store.

Two things

I know, I know. It has been forever since I have updated my blog. I feel guilty but other things have sucked me in and overtaken my life. We have had a wonderful summer. An awesome camping trip with Jake's family. We had a blast even though I was sure that a bear was going to eat my and carry my children deep into the woods. Thanks to Jake's dad and his genius bear trap rigging, I slept peacefully. It is amazing what a little twine and cow bell will do for one's sense of security. We went to the state fair and got to see President Monson. We have been building a monstrosity in our back yard that Jake likes to call a shed. It is more like a scaled down Taj Mahal. All of these things are happening and I still do stupid stuff that I would love to put on here for your entertainment but at night, when the kids are in bed and the house all quiet I am only drawn to two things. Jake's Iphone and a book. Jake downloaded this game called "Angry Birds" recently and told me it was the number one downloaded game for the Iphone right now. When I started to play, it seemed so silly to me. The whole point of the game is to shoot birds at these pigs who have stolen their eggs. After about twenty minutes of flinging birds into concrete walls protecting the pigs, I was hooked. I couldn't put the thing down. Now I find myself thinking about the strategy during the day and pining for Jake to come home and for the kids to go to bed. Jake and I often find ourselves lying in bed way late in the night trying to conquer a particular level that has us stumped. So, what does a girl do during the day while her husband has to take his Iphone to work with him? I read Fabelhaven books. This is my second downfall. I started to read the first book and now have a hard time putting them down. I don't know what got me in to these mystical creature stories. It all started with Lord of the Rings, then Harry Potter, then Twilight. I find myself drawn to these books and really enjoy reading them. I just have to be careful not to completely ignore my children and responsibilities around the house. That is where the neglecting of the blog comes in. I apologize for my addictions. I am on book three for Fabelhaven so hopefully I won't be too much longer and I can get back to functioning as normal. Until.... just be patient with me while I live in a world of golems and fairies. It is a nice escape from reality.

Preschool

The day I have been dreading for a while finally came last week. I have been a selfish mother and have not enrolled Tylie in preschool because I was not ready for it. But, since I found a school that I liked and I realized that Tylie was really ready for it, I enrolled her. I hate to face facts but the hard truth is that she is going to go to kindergarten next year five days a week so I am looking at this preschool this as somewhat of a parachute to my nosedive I will take with kindergarten. I am hoping that it will break my fall slightly and get my heart calloused to the pain of my baby being gone.
I was worried about Ty because she is very mild and will not shove her way into any spotlight. She tends to hang back around a lot of kids and I have been worried that she will get lost in the backround of her class. She has a friend in her class and I am relieved that he is there to pull her along a little bit.
When we went to meet her teacher a few days before school started, she immediately crawled into her shy shell and my heart shattered. How was I going to leave her if she was going to hate it? The only was this was going to be possible for me was if she went bounding into class and didn't look back. My stomach was in knots worried sick that she would hate it and, in turn, hate me for subjecting her to such a place. When the morning came, she was excited. I couldn't tell if she was really excited to go to school or if she was just excited to wear her new school clothes. I did everything a mom should do. I did made sure all her clothes were perfectly clean and wrinkle free, I did her hair in her favorite "princess" hair do, I took pictures of her before she left the house, and I broke out the video camera so I could remember my emotional roller coaster ten years from now. I choked back tears as I drove that sad route. I put on a smile as we marched in to the school hand in hand. I let her hand go and watched her stride ahead of me in the hall so she could feel independent and confident that she knew where her class was. I peeked around the corner as she sat at a desk and got started on a project for her teacher. She looked up and saw me. With a goofy grin on her face, she waved goodbye and turned back to her coloring. I ducked out and pinned myself to the wall. I repeated a mantra in my head over and over telling myself that she was ready and to let her go. My arms ached to reached through that wall and grab her but my head won and I sulked out the door. Once I was safely in my car, I could let it all go. I sat in the parking lot with Mason in the back seat quiet as a mouse. He patiently waited for the tears to stop so I could see to go home. After the tears finally quit flowing, I turned to Mason and him and I made a firm pact that he would not grow up and leave me like his sister did. I know he agreed because I told him to slap me five if he was ok with that and he promptly placed his little hand on mine.
I know what you are thinking. It is preschool. Only three days a week. And you are right. 3 days a week for 2 hours at a time. No big deal. Here is the real problem though. That night, after Jake got home, we were talking about Tylie's first day at preschool. She was snuggled up in bed and we were talking about how well she did. I explained to Jake my tears and told him I feel silly acting this way. I should be able to control these stupid emotions. He sighed and said, " The real problem is that this is the beginning of it all." Yes, he is absolutely right. The beginning of growing up. School, dancing, girlfriend drama, mean girls at school. She is no longer completely sheltered by me. The beginning of it all. Let the tears flow...

Goal Complete!

Four thirty in the morning comes really early. I have never been a great morning person and I hold sleep in high priority so I make it a goal to only wake up before five o'clock one time a year. That one time is the day after Thanksgiving for all the great shopping. So when my alarm clock started screaming at four thirty last weekend and my belly wasn't stuffed full of turkey, my body was confused. My mind was clear as a bell though. Even though my eyes weren't willing to open, I knew exactly where I needed to go. I tip toed to my cedar chest where my running shoes and Ipod had been set the night before. Once my hair was in a pony tail and my laces tied tight, I snuck down the stairs. Brittany was waiting and silently we slipped out to begin our journey.
The drive to Provo was short but my stomach was in butterflies the whole way. Our conversation was a little different than our normal chatter. We were building each other up and setting expectations. We spoke of how much hard work we had invested and today was the day it was going to pay off.
As we stood there waiting for the bus to come and take us up the mountain, I began to question things. "Was it really a good idea to have a bus drive you half way up a mountain just so you can run yourself back down?" I tried to ignore the crowds of runners around us that looked like they had done this a hundred times and they were just looking for a leisure run. I tried to focus on Britt and not let my nerves get the best of me. I tried to control my shivers from the chilly mountain air that was slowly seeping into my already skimpy running clothes. All of that melted away when I finally heard the blow horn go off.
Britt and I got into a pace. We were together. The same goal in mind. As I ran along, I searched the face of each runner by me. I was lost in thoughts wondering what their story was. A sense of calm would wash over me each time I looked next to me and saw Britt by my side. Once in a while, she would allow her jack rabbit take over and I would lose her for a bit, but I always knew where she was. I had a huge smiled plastered across my face as we ran past Bridal Veil Falls. I made myself stay aware of my beautiful surroundings and not get lost in my breathing.
Everything was near perfection until mile 10. My knee started buckle and I started to limp. I tried cranking my Ipod and putting on "Eye of the Tiger" but my knee was not letting my determination win. I silently prayed that I could finish strong. I knew that only way I could fail this is if I just sat down. As long as I was moving forward, the end would come. I had told Britt to go ahead and I was left to battle this on my own. After a short walk, my mental side took hold and I pushed forward. I came around a bend and could see people waiting for their own runners to finish. My eyes began to frantically search for my cheering section. I had never wanted to see Jake's face more than in that moment. He is the one that has been with me on this whole journey. He is the one that rubs my feet after a hard run. He is the one that would understand my knee and the pain I was in. He is the one that I could look at and that is all it would take. I finally saw the finish line and knew that he was close. And then there he was. Exactly where I wanted him to be. I heard my family cheering and I raised my arms high in the air. I did it. If I had the energy, I probably would have broken out into a fist pumping mosh pit.
I am proud of Britt and myself. We made a goal at the start of this year to run a half marathon and we did it. I learned a lot about myself. I learned that you never want to try to compete with the people first across the start line, I learned that my knee really does suck but I can deal with more pain than I thought, I learned that runners really are crazy and everything I thought about them in high school is true. I learned that I hate men with strollers who blaze by me on an uphill and I love old men who are easily in their seventies and still can run a 10k. I have gained a new appreciation for the people on the side of the road that I fly by in my car. Most importantly though, I learned that life is very much like my half marathon. The only way I can really lose is if I sit down and quit. I am not racing anyone but myself. And in the end, I know that as I cross that finish line, I will frantically be looking for my loved ones. I will hear their cheers and that will drive me forward. I will cross that line with my arms held high and collapse into the arms of my Savior. And there I hope to stay.

Youth Conference

Youth Conference was so fun. I have been slow posting pictures but here are the few that I got. I was so impressed with the youth. They give me hope for my own children.

Shaving

Last week, I found myself getting ready to go to a summer party for Jake and his coworkers. As I was in the shower I realized that I clearly needed to shave and so that long process began. I grabbed my razor and my bottle of shaving cream. When I went to squirt the cream, to my surprise, it was gone. It seems that Tylie had a little too much fun last night when she used my shower. Normally, I would throw my hands up in the air and forget the whole thing but since this was a pool party we were going to, that simply was not an option. How I wish that I were one of those people who grow hair on their legs that resembles a new born babies hair. After my mom went through chemotherapy for her cancer, she rarely has to shave because they are so light and soft. If you brush up against her, you would just think she had a little bit of cotton stuck to her leg. My sister was lucky and got hair similar to that. She has blond hair so, even if she is having a rough morning (which she rarely does) and no time to shave, she can throw on a skirt and unless you carry a microscope with you, you would never know the difference. And then there is my other sister. This girl has the confidence of Kobe Bryant playing a little league team. She is not so lucky as my blond, invisible haired sister. She has dark black hair and I lovingly tell her that she grows tree stumps out of her legs. She knows it and fought to hack those tree stumps down for many years. Now she is comfortable with the way she is. In the winter, she locks her razors in a drawer and doesn't bring them back until people start wearing white around memorial day. I am sure you all think that she resembles a pilgrim when she goes to church in her floor length skirts, but nope! She rocks those knee lengths like she is walking down the red carpet. We all laugh at her and tell her that buying a coat is faster than growing one on your body but she is not deterred. The sunbeams that she teaches even think it is fun to play with in primary. Sick, I know but the girl doesn't care- and more power to her. I wish that I was more like that. I am stuck somewhere in the middle of the three. I am not lucky enough the grow soft bunny fur. I grow tree stumps also but I continue to break out the hack saw and shave every week for church, even when I am wearing a floor length skirt. So, as I am sitting in the shower racking my brain if I have any more shaving cream in my storage room, I decide to use Jake's shower gel instead. The ice cold sprint down two flights of stairs to enter an even colder storage room was just not worth is to me. Jake uses the "Axe" shower gel. You know the one, the commercial where the guy showers and suddenly he has a million girls licking his toes and sniffing his ears. I was desperately hoping that this was a very sensationalized commercial because that could make for some very awkward moments for Jake's coworkers and I. I didn't love the idea of smelling like a man but I just figured I would stand close enough to Jake that they would just assume it was him. When I put the stuff on my hand it was so gross. It was a deep red and when I rubbed it on my legs, I could not tell if I had nicked myself or cut and artery. Who in the multi-million dollar company at Axe decided to send this stuff out? Is this what guys like? So now, not only am I smelling like a man, I am bathing myself in blood! Great. Maybe tree stumps would have been better. Since I couldn't leave a half cleared forest, I finished shaving and jumped out vowing to never buy the stuff again for Jake. Next time, he is going to get the musky ocean smell. At least that way he won't look like a murder victim every time he showers. The party was fun. The cold pool felt good on my burning legs from all the cuts because I shaved to fast. And only one woman sniffed at my ears. Ok, not really but I saw a few of them eyeing me. Lesson learned to not let Tylie play in my shower unsupervised anymore. I am also going to work on my self confidence. You won't see me walking down the street in daisy dukes after two weeks of not shaving but maybe capris. Or maybe a mid calf skirt at church. Or maybe not, I would just feel too weird. I will just continue to admire my sister, or laugh at her. It is all the same to me.

Fourth of July celebrations:

Frazzled

Is it ok for me to admit that I feel I might not be up to the challenge of raising my baby boy? I have joked with my friends about being careful about wishing for a boy, I have given him all sorts of nicknames like "little devil", and I have grinned through my embarrassment as he reigns terror in any public setting that we are in. I try to joke about it but after this weekend I find myself truly questioning if I am up to this. The kid is nuts. I want to try to explain how I feel by saying my nerves are shot, I am completely worn out, exhaustion has set in. But no matter what kind of cliche saying I come up with, none of them justify the way I really feel. At times he makes me so mad that I want to play Moses and leave him on a porch somewhere in a basket. I daydream about the poor unsuspecting soul that would open that door. Then in the next moment he is kissing me and running off to the next toilet paper roll to empty or the next magazine to shred. When he was sick a few weeks ago, he was so cuddly. He would lay in my arms silent and still. He wouldn't move and I would just cry because I felt so bad for him. Now I just long for one minute like that. I have heard every saying about how boys are just more active and aggressive. I hear that they are hard now but so much easier than girls in their teen years. Well, at the rate Mason is going, I am not sure that he and I will make it to his teen years. One of us is going to kill the other off and I am not sure who is going to tap out first. I count my blessings every day that Heavenly Father gave me Tylie first. On one hand I am grateful that I know there can be calm, obedient children. If I would have had Mason first, I am not sure that I would have any more. On the other hand, I feel like I got a slap in the face. I was completely unsuspecting when this little troll came bowling into my life and I am not sure how to stop the path of destruction. I love my baby boy with all my heart but I have never been the mom to act like my children are perfect or my parenting skills without flaws. Right now I am being tested to my core. Mason has shoved me into the fire in a way that Tylie never did. My emotions are shot, my patience gone, my head is pounding, and he is winning. One day, I will be able to enjoy church again. One day, I will not dread the grocery store. One day, I will be able to look at him and smile. But not today. And probably not tomorrow. Mason and I are working on our relationship. My roller coaster is on a low right now but I am not getting off the ride. I will hang on with white knuckles until we hit a high or my heart gives out. And I pray that in the end, when that high comes, Mason will look at me and smile. Pray for me!

Some of our good friends got married this weekend. It was a beautiful day and we are so grateful that they let us be a part of their special day!