Pressure

I have been feeling this immense pressure lately to update this blog. I ignored while I was finishing up my blog book for last year but now that project is completed I have been racking my brain with what to ramble about. I have been running every morning lately and running has a way of clearing your mind and making everything very clear. The thing that has been made most clear to me lately is that my life is pretty boring and uneventful lately. As I watch the seconds tick away on my tread mill I find myself slipping away. I let my mind wander through the days and weeks that have past for any little tidbit that might be humorous or enlightening. I ponder the miles away only to come up with blanks. I got nothin! No funny things that Tylie has done, no story about Mason's latest rampage through the house, no stupid stories about me falling flat on my face in the middle of a crowded parking lot, NOTHING! The weather has kept us cooped up in the house and the walls are closing in more every day. I crave the sunshine, the warm air, the long summer days. I love to get in my car, crank up my heated seats, turn the heater at sweltering heat, and recline my seat. I like to pretend that I am lying on a beach and I can feel the heat radiating off the sand. It is a real disappointment to open my eyes and see the dash thermometer read in the thirties. I will survive but I am afraid that people in blog land will have to go into survival mode with me. I promise lots of entertaining blogs when the sun comes out. They will be full of sprinkler parties, trips to Cali (Grant and Candice, Steve and Tanya- it is a plan- please do not bail. I don't think my heart can take it!), marathons, and fireworks. If the drought of entertaining news goes on too long, I promise to subject myself to some horrible disaster in a very public place so you can all laugh at what an idiot I am. Normally I would not intentionally subject myself to such humiliation but for the good of the blog I will. I will take one for the team. Besides, it would be a nice change to the mundane mess that I have now. I wish that the weather would change like it does on that show "Planet Earth." When ice melts in seconds and deserts dry before your eyes. Oh well- I will just keep praying to have the strength to accept the things I cannot change. sigh.

Dang me!

I admit it- I have been slacking in my job. I have been trying my best to stick to my workout routine so getting up earlier has been more regular lately. I workout and feel like I am on some sort of high every morning. But like every drug, there is a crash. My crash is inevitably in the afternoon around 4:00. My body starts to be sluggish, my eyes feel like I have taped rocks to my lashes, and the stairs the I scale daily begin to look like Mount Everest. I rarely give in to these feeling but yesterday I did. I DID- ALRIGHT! I WAS TIRED!!! I thought I was playing it smart. I let Tylie build a fort in her room, gave her some popcorn so she could "fix dinner" for Mason, closed off all doors that hold potential disasters, and laid down on my bed. Ahhhh...bliss. Children quietly playing in the backround, house cleaned, and my new ipod softly humming lullabies in my ears. "Fifteen minutes", I told myself, "What can happen in that short of time? It takes me longer to clean a bathroom and I do that all the time." Right in the middle of lying on a beach in some exotic land soaking up the exotic sun I was startled out of my rest. No beach. No cabanas. No cute drinks with umbrellas. Just Tylie screaming that Mason was ruining her stuff. I stumbled to her room still trying to focus on the world around me and this is what I found.

and this-

this and this-


Gosh dang it! Mason had found the makeup that Tylie got for Christmas and successfully colored everything that he touched. He had it from head to toe. Then he stepped in it and so where ever he walked- he left a little trail for me to find him. It was on carpet, dressers, pillows, walls, comforters, doors, and anywhere else you can imagine a one year old reaching. Just when I wanted to whirl around and start screaming at Mason for getting into it and Tylie for letting it happen I remembered that there was just one idiot in the room and it was not Tylie or Mason. Cursing myself I walked down the stairs to grab any kind of cleaner I could find. Dang me for putting that makeup where he could reach it. Dang me for buying that makeup in the first place. Dang me for thinking that I could rest while he was at large. And finally- dang me for blaming them. I cleaned the carpet and when I walked over to throw the paper towels away I found my phone in the garbage. When I went to the bathroom to rinse the rags- I found my keys in the toilet. When I deposited the rags in the hamper- I found the entire package of diapers emptied into the dirty clothes. Good grief kid! How much damage can you do in such a short time? I feel like he was almost waiting for me to let my guard down. I can almost see him peering around the corner, just waiting for my eyes to flutter shut. Then he went to work. The kid is crazy but I love him. I am the responsible adult and I guess I will just have to take that role more seriously. After all was said and done, though, I walked back into Tylie's room in a huff of frustration and this is what I saw.

Frustration gone. I did want to make Tylie's room a little more girly. I guess pink carpet will do. Thanks Mason!

Fear

I have a fear. A fear that has been gnawing at my insides for quite some time and it finally starting to seep out. It has worked its way up my throat and I am having a hard time holding it down. I have always loudly professed that my greatest fear is that one of my children would be ripped out of my earthly arms too soon leaving me behind. I have evaluated my list and I believe that fear has been moved to number 2.
My greatest fear is that I will not be able to teach my children well enough and that this world will get them in it's nasty grip and pull them down to a place that my arms cannot reach. I have often said that this is a worry but the statement always seemed more rhetorical than anything. Lately, though, I am beginning to see how much this fear has a hold on me. It is almost debilitating. As I was growing up drugs were a thing from a far of place called Compton, sex was a nasty rumor that somebody started to hurt another, and jail and prison were a place for old men with no teeth that lived under viaducts and drank out of a brown paper bag. I would watch the news and hear of horrible stories from far off countries. I would watch as my mom would shake her head mumbling about how times have changed- then I would turn off the TV and go snuggle down in my warm bed and listen to my sister softly breathe while she slept. I never worried about guns in school or what I was going to see at the next party. My worries were made up of homework deadlines and having enough lunch money left over to get the cinnamon roll I wanted.
Now I see that these tragedies are no longer thousands of miles away in foreign countries. They are at my doorstep affecting people that I love. Drugs are no longer contained in big cities with a high crime rate. They are here in my city sucking in so many people that I know. I don't have to turn on the news anymore to hear of more horrifying stories and more people to pity. I simply pick up the phone and it seems that endless people know endless stories of what is going on.
I feel that the darkness is closing in. I feel that my light is no longer enough. The problems are big enough that a hug doesn't fix it. The darkness is choking me. It is comforting to look over the vast dark and see little flickers of light out there. People trying so hard to break the darkness. But where is that light that can surely dominate it all. I know that He will come but when? What will my children have to endure before he says it is enough? Will I be able to stack enough armor on them to withstand the blows they will undoubtedly have to absorb. How can I help them become a beacon for those around them? I feel like if I just teach them to cling to that path that they will be ok. I see so many others out there who have had the same teachings that have wandered, what makes my children different? I think that I might have almost chose to be with the Pioneers and seen my children's bloody footprints in the snow. At least then I would know that it is their physical mortality on the line and not their eternal salvation. My kids are going to have to make decisions amid chaos that will affect them for eternities. I feel I am not enough as a mom to show them how important all these things are.
Both Tylie and Mason are in their beds taking naps right now. They are the perfect picture of calm and serene. Do they know? Will they have the strength? At this moment, I feel very small to the task of being a mom in this world. I pray daily for heavens help. The day will come, I will just have to do my best until then.

An old friend

This morning found me dragging my butt out of bed an hour earlier than normal with the same goal as thousands of others around the nation. Today was the day that I was going start working out in the morning before the kids wake up. I feel really cliched about doing the "workout resolution" but I considered the alternative and not doing it and getting fat just because I don't want to be cliche seemed even dumber- so here I am. Dressed in all my workout garb, I approached my entertainment closet, carefully pushed to the side all my cute chick flicks, reached to the deepest darkest corner and picked up the last movie I could feel. I grabbed it, set it aside and got the movie lurking under that. That is how long it has been. I could barely decipher if I had gotten the right one but due to the thick layer of dust on it, I assumed that had to be it. It was my good old friend Billy Blanks from Taebo. Taebo was a fad back when I was in high school and I loved doing the workouts. My mom had bought the tapes and loaned them to a friend years later and I was never able to find them again. Thanks to ebay, I found them last year but they have been sitting on my shelf since then. As I popped it in, I felt like I was meeting an old friend that has been waiting for my for quite some time. And then, there he was. Billy- the ripped instructor with tight blue spandex one piece and his hands wrapped like he is ready to enter a cage fight. Head shaved bald and lubed up with a grease so that he sparkles with every jab he takes. He starts you out slow and then gradually builds you up to "double time". He works you so hard that you get to a point that you want to grab a tub of ice cream and watch him because simply watching him is a workout. Then he builds you up with words like "you can push past the pain" and "think about that swimming suit". He is like my own personal Richard Simmons on steroids. With all of his "atta boys" I got through the entire workout and ended up like a wet noodle on the floor. I was panting like a dog about ready to go lap out of the toilet because I couldn't get my legs to hold my weight when Jake came down on his way out the door. He chuckled, looked at me sympathetically and kissed me goodbye. Thanks babe- love you too. After a few of Billy's breathing techniques I was able to pull myself together. I hobbled up the stairs wondering if it is normal to feel sick and want to throw up when you haven't even eaten anything yet. I forced down a glass of water as the room was spinning and went and stood in front of an open window. The best part of the whole experience though was this. I excercised, read my scriptures, showered, and had my make up on all before the kids even woke up. I think that I freaked Tylie out because she is used to seeing me in a robe, black caked under my eyes, hair hanging in my face, and me wiping drool off my chin. It is sad that my fresh face is what scared her. I think she was wondering what alternate universe she had drifted into. I really like this feeling but I am also a realist so I have made a goal to workout like this three times a week. I am trying not to set myself up for failure. Or maybe it is that when I stop doing it I will only feel guilty three times a week instead of every day. Who knows? Anyway- I am embarking on this cliched resolution. Hopefully I can at least make it to spring when I can get out and start being active again. Either way- I am glad that I got to catch up with my old friend Billy today. Even if it is just for today- I was a warrior in Taebo today. A warrior that went to battle with determination and vigor. Long live resolutions!

Holiday Hangover

I have never been a drinker but over these last few days, I think I have figured out what a hangover must feel like. Mornings come to quickly and my eyes refuse to crack open no matter how much effort I put into it. My body is groggy and moving more robotic than fluid. My daily routine has become much harder although nothing has changed. I find myself looking at the clock and seeing that it is noon already and my house looks the same as it did the night before. I collapse in arm chairs and let out a loud sigh of exhaustion every hour, on the hour. I spend my time trying to deprogram Tylie from thinking there is a party every night or that every knock on our door is another friend bringing us a special treat. I talk myself breathless trying to convince her that treats are not a main food group and that Santa really had gone home for the year, no matter how many cookies she leaves out- he is not coming back. I had tried to snap myself out of it by taking down the tree, throwing the wrapping paper away, and restraining myself from making more wassail. I guess my body just knows that this is the hardest time of the year for me. The excitement is gone. There is nothing there to push off the depression of the miserable cold. This is the time of the year that I have to hunker down and be patient. I have to remind myself that the sun will come out again and this ice, outside and in my heart, will melt away. I don't know why we pack the holidays so close together, just to leave the other months left wanting for something to be known for. In 3 months we pack in Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's. Was this some kind of sick joke to make kids go into a sugar coma? Maybe it was the best thing the forefathers could come up with since they didn't have Benadryl yet. Who knows- All I know is that this time of year is rough. I just have to grit my teeth and bear it. Until then, I will sip on my hot chocolate and watch my gas bill rise. And while I am sitting there waiting for the ice to melt, I am going to think up a stupid holiday to put in January to give it a better name!

Family Ritual

I try really hard to create fun family activities so we can spend time together on the nights that Jake is home. I spend hours pouring over internet site looking at all the family night ideas. I look for recipes of fun little treats that we can make together. I am even willing to shrug off my "uncrafty" facade and break out the scissors and glue to make a fun board game so we can all gather around the table and giggle at one another. When I put in all this hard work, it is sometimes disappointing when my little ideas turn out to be a flop. It frustrates me so bad when Tylie won't pay attention, when Jake flops on the couch because he is tired and he makes Tylie roll the dice for him, or when Mason consistently attacks whatever we are doing and sends Tylie into a rage of frustration.
I learned a long time ago that sometimes no matter how much work I put into things, they are not always going to turn out like a picture taken right out of the Ensign. You know what I am talking about- the family that are dressed in their Sunday clothes for family night. The parents are perched on the couch holding a picture of the temple. The children are gathered around their feet, arms folded, smiling intently, soaking in every word that comes out of their parents mouths. The house is perfectly in order and the mom looks like she just got home from the salon and not a hair is out of place. I pray for these kind of moments but I also live in the real world. I learned to continue to strive for these moments but to take the moments that I am given and enjoy them. These moments have been quite prevalent in my home lately and they can all be attributed to one silly activity.
When Jake comes home at night, he always heads right up the stairs to change before we have dinner. I often follow him so he can tell me about his day and since we are both up there, we are sure to have two little ones right on our hills. It is very common to find the whole family gathered in our room every night. Jake usually turns on the stereo and cranks the music. This irritates me because I feel that I cannot talk to him while 70s rock ballads are screaming in my ear. The other night I walked over and turned it off so I could genuinely respond to the conversation we were having instead of looking like a bobble head on a dash board with a smile painted on her face bobbing her head as if she knows exactly what you are talking about. Mason immediately walked over to the stereo and tried to reach up. He turned and looked at me- the look that says "I want you to fix this mom- get over here!" I thought that he just wanted to push buttons, so I picked him up so he could punch at them for a minute. As we talked, he got more and more irritated. Then Jake turned the music back on. Mason immediately wiggled out of my arms and started dancing in circles. We thought this was funny which means Tylie needed to get in on the action and get some of the attention. The next thing we knew, we were all dancing around our room like fools. The music was cranked to epic proportions and we were pulling out moves I didn't know I had. All for the pleasure of two little beings that don't know the difference between elegance and clumsiness.
Every night since, Mason chases Jake up the stairs and resumes his position under the stereo until Jake turns it on and the dance contest begins. I love watching Mason's face light up when he hears the beat. I love watching Tylie jump on the bed with the excuse that it is dancing. I love watching Jake bop around the room with Mason in his arms. I love flinging myself around without a care in the world that someone will see me and laugh. I guess when Tylie and Mason grow up, they will not remember quite nights in the living room and sweet lemonade and cookies waiting on the table. They will have very different memories of their parents being quite crazy and obnoxious. But when we are dancing there is a feeling of love and unity. We are together. That is what they will remember and I couldn't ask for any more than that.

This is the cold

This is the cold.
This is the cold that makes your breath cut short when you walk outside.

This is the cold that freezes your pipes in the morning so that your husband cannot take a warm shower in the morning before he leaves to work.
This is the cold that makes you day dream of the warm January days in California.

This is the cold that makes your mind go fuzzy enough to think that it is a good idea to go into in the miserable mess and stare at twinkling lights intricately woven through tree branches.

This is the cold that makes your nose hairs stick together and makes your ears turn shades of red you never thought possible.

This is the cold that makes you want to scream when you realize you forgot the cups for hot choclate that you hoped would warm everyone up.

This is the cold that makes you love your car more and more every day- not for the four wheel drive, not for the snow tires, but for the heated seats that cook your buns and make you feel that warm sensation that you never thought you could enjoy.

This is the cold that brings you to your knees in gratitude that you have a warm home, with a warm furnace and a glowing fireplace and warm beds to tuck the kids in bed at night.

This is the cold. It causes my nightmares. Thank goodness for seasons. This too shall pass.