Picture Perfect

This picture captures my Little O so perfectly - the mismatched clothes, a late afternoon nap, his sweet sleeping face, and his possessive love for this bright blue balloon.

Even as he slept he instinctively held on to the balloon, knowing that if he let it go someone else might claim it and he would wake up empty-handed.

There are all kinds of metaphors in there, but I'm just going to leave it at what you see - a picture of my little guy who is likely dreaming of an adventure involving a bright blue balloon.

Waxing Nostalgic

Last week was Red Ribbon Week at the elementary school. Each day is some sort of fun, crazy dress-up day and the kids had fun putting together some great outfits and hair. Friday, they were stumped. It was "Wear your favorite team jersey" day - but no one had any jerseys.

I told them that it would be fine to just wear a team t-shirt, but they insisted that they must be jerseys. So I pulled these old relics out of my storage chest and told them it was the best I could do.

"Where did these come from?" they asked. "What team is WEST?"

I told them that these were my old jerseys that I wore when I ran on the cross country team back in high school and showed them my last name spelled out in fuzzy iron-ons across the upper backs of each one. I told them how I could never throw them out over the years because the cross country team was like my family and these old jerseys reminded me of many happy times. "No one will probably have ever heard of West High before, but you can tell them it's from your mom's old school in California. Will these work?"

"YES!" they shouted. "You're going to let us wear them? These are SO special!!" They were ecstatic as they decided who got to wear which one. I was ecstatic. I don't really know how to describe the happy feeling I had inside when I saw my girls wearing my old jerseys and understanding how meaningful they were to me - but I was especially thrilled by how excited they were about it.

This picture is definitely one of my current favorites.

School Picture Day

School picture day was here.

I like to let the kids get crazy for these pictures because we don't buy them. So really, why not?

Princess informed me right off that "I am not really too much of a weird person most of the time so I want to just, um, look mostly just normal in my school picture even though our family is kind of more weird."

I was fine with that.

Hubba recently had a haircut so there wasn't much to work with.

But Cowgirl? She had a plan.


My favorite part is the 'beard'. Apparently the school photographer was not a big fan of this genius idea and told her, "I'm going to have to have you take that ponytail out from under your chin."

It's a good thing I can appreciate her awesome sense of humor and already got a picture before she left for school.

We Are Family

We finally got some new family pictures taken by our awesome friend Jason (who also happens to be an awesome photographer).

If you want to see the individual pictures of the kids, take a look in the sidebar. ------>

I love this shot of Allen and I:

And here are my favorite outtakes:








Here's what happens to a couple after 19 years of marriage and 10 kids...

They get a little psycho-crazy.

And that's just the way we like it.

Pesky Little Vampires

Oh, how I love autumn. The beautiful blanket of warm reds and yellows that covers our mountains, pumpkin-flavored everything, Halloween, and the kind of weather which calls for a light jacket or sweater. This year I have one more thing to really appreciate at this time of year - fall marks the end of mosquito season.

Have you ever heard of anyone being allergic to mosquito bites? I hadn't. Then one day this summer Little O's lower leg swelled up to double its size and we couldn't figure out why. A mosquito bite seemed to be the only possibility and we figured it was a one-time deal.

Nope.

Can you tell where else he got bit by those pesky little blood-suckers?

August

September

Goodbye, mosquitoes. We will not miss you.

Not one teeny bit.

Quick Quips

Curly: Mom, look! There is red on the top of the mountains! Wait... is that hot lava?! Are our mountains really volcanoes?
Me: Nope. That is just the trees changing colors. It means fall is coming.
Curly: Oh. So I guess they are fall-canoes instead of vol-canoes.


Can I be a robber for Halloween if I promise not to be one when I grow up?


Hubba: Can I build a spaceship?
Me: Sure.
Hubba: Then I need a blowtorch and some big pieces of metal for my birthday.


Me: What do you want for dinner?
Curly: The potato soup that is red.
Me: You mean tomato soup?
Curly: No, I don't like tomatoes.
Me: You mean the soup we eat with grilled cheese sandwiches?
Curly: Yeah. I want red potato soup and girl cheese sandwiches.


I can't believe they drank from the same cup! That's pretty much like kissing!

Dreams Come True at BYU

My oldest boy is loving the college life. Not only the independence and keeping late hours, but most especially the people he's run into while there.

A couple of the Kid History guys

The one and only Jimmer

I can honestly admit that I am pretty jealous. When I was working at BYU one of the most exciting people I ran into was John Walsh (whom most BYU fans probably don't even remember) and the funny thing about that was that we went to high school together so it was no big deal. I didn't even know he was BYU's starting quarterback until my husband told me.

Keep living the dream, Coolister.

(If you could try to get a decent amount of sleep while doing it, that would be awesome.)

Can't Say I Didn't Tri

Me and my awesome new pal, Christine.

My TriathaMom was a couple of Saturdays ago and I know you've all been on the edge of your computer seats just waiting to hear about it.

I made an awesome new friend, Christine, who gave me a ride up on Saturday morning. We left early so we would have time to drive the bike course before registration started and we talked about how nervous we were the whole way there. (It was her first one, too.) We found the starting point, got lost on the bike course and made it back (with help from my phone's GPS) well before registration ended.

I got my body markings (race numbers on the arms, age on the left calf) and we went to set up our bikes in the transition area. I was happy to see that ours were not the only mountain bikes, although road bikes were definitely there in abundance. As the sun started to come up we took advantage of the short lines at the port-a-potties and then played the waiting game until start time.

As we walked into the pool area my concerns about being too cold were immediately put to rest. In fact, it was almost too warm inside the rec center. As Christine and I found a place to sit near the pool I noticed that the pool was 13 feet deep at one end and had a small 5 foot deep shelf-with-drop-off on the other end. I immediately started to stress out over this. One thing they stated on their website was that if you needed to walk the swim, you could. I was comforted by the fact that I could walk if I tired out - alas, I am not 13.5 feet tall. From that point until the time I exited the swimming pool I am fairly certain I exhausted myself with anxiety.

Just before the swim began a gal with a microphone hooked into the rec center's speaker system talked about something for 5-10 minutes. There was so much chatter going on that I could not understand a word - but luckily the instructions filtered through the crowd and we all realized that those with the fastest starting times needed to head up to the front of the pack. I knew I could do the swim in about 20 minutes or less so I ended up being just in front of the women who were using kickboards for the swim. I almost cried a few times, almost completely gave up once, watched as some of the starting swimmers returned from their bike ride, but after roughly an hour I was able to start swimming.

People using kickboards passed me, one sweet gal even asked if I was okay and if I wanted to share her kickboard, but I finished the swim second from last. A paramedic stood where I exited the pool and asked, "How are you feeling? Can you do the bike and run?" I told him I was going to finish this thing, no matter what, and didn't even try to run to the transition area because I was completely worn out.

I toweled myself off, laced up my shoes, snapped my helmet on and headed for the start of the bike portion. As I left the transition area a volunteer called, "LAST BIKE OUT!" I started to pedal and could never really gain any momentum because the first 4 miles was a gradual uphill slope. However, I had promised myself that I would NOT walk any of the bike ride because that would be just silly. I passed a couple of women with flat tires and one gal who was walking her bike. I offered words of encouragement and they did the same. At the end of the 4th mile was what I heard many of the other racers dub 'Sick Hill'. I shifted my bike into the lowest possible gear and s l o w l y made my way up it. It about killed me when the chain slipped and I had to dismount to fix it. Talk about jello for legs - and I still had 7 miles to go! Once I crested Sick Hill it was pretty smooth sailing from there on out. There were a couple of magical downhills where I'm pretty sure I was flying. At one point a white van pulled up alongside of me - my family! They were there to cheer me on. What a boost! That gave me the burst of energy I needed to finish up the bike ride.

I hurried in to the transition area once again to ditch my bike helmet ("Nice hair!" Allen called out to me, laughing. I had serious helmet-head with my natural curls frizzing out along the bottom. So I quickly put my hair into a ponytail, too.) and head out for the 5K. As I left the volunteer directed me to the 'after-party'. "I'm just starting the 5K," I told him. "Where do I go?" He instructed me to follow the green arrows and then called, "LAST RUNNER OUT!" (What the heck is that all about, anyway??) I started at a speed-walking pace and eventually decided to see how my legs would respond to a slow jog. It actually felt pretty good! I passed up a couple of women who were walking this portion and some of my kids ran the last mile or so with me. I would say I probably ran at least 2 of the 3 miles. Go me!

As I came in to the finish I was ready to cry. I did it. I could now call myself a triathlete! I got my cool finisher's necklace:

(So much better than the typical medal that I would never wear again!)

and a big hug from Christine who had waited there for me for who knows how long. Allen parked the van and the kids went crazy with the bounce houses, cotton candy, balloons and free food.

At this point I pretty much just wanted to fall asleep.

When I got home I looked up the results to see where I finished. Out of 331 women I placed 321st. However, the most important thing was that I finished at all since I was really only competing against myself.

Would I ever do this again? Probably not. After my anxiety over the long wait to swim in a 13 foot deep pool and a bike ride geared towards beginners which exhausted me to no end, I think I'm going to call it good and stick with running.

In conclusion: I came. I swam. I biked. I ran. I finished.

What's next?

The Book in My Brain

On the days that I forget to bring my music with me as I run I find that I notice random objects and start putting a story to them in my head to pass the time.

The one constant item along my running route is the back cover of a Harry Potter book.


Somehow, I forget that it is there until each time I pass it by - and then the story continues from where it left off.

It goes something like this:

There is a land in the future where lies are forbidden - even in the form of books. Fictional books are considered fabrications of untruths and over time they are banned and destroyed entirely. The only writings which remain are personal records written by the people who inhabit this place. Many years pass and we meet a young girl who has never heard of fictional stories or characters. One day as she walks through a wooded area she notices a flash of faded colors near the base of a tree. She makes her way over and picks it up - it has writing on it which tells of a land where magical things happen. She begins to wonder where this land is and how she could get there because it sounds fascinating. She goes back to the place where she found the book cover and searches for more to the story. She eventually somehow finds a water-stained, worn and haggard copy of the book (in a hollowed out tree stump? In a hole dug out of the earth beneath a boulder? Maybe some of the pages are missing?) and thinks she is reading someone's history.

That's as far as my brain has taken it. Are these fragments of a real story that I've heard about and forgotten or is my brain really creating all of this?

I need to know which road I should take from here. The easy road, which consists of finding the book already in existence - or the hard road, which means I need to continue my brain-writing. Because either way I am engrossed and can't wait to find out how the story ends.

It's Still Funny

picture from here

I have mentioned before that I always include a joke or quote with my kids' school lunches. Yesterday's joke was:

Why did Humpty Dumpty have a great fall?
To make up for his lousy summer.

When I picked the kids up from school yesterday, we had the following conversation about the joke:

Princess: Mom! That joke you gave me today was SO funny! It made me laugh and laugh! I could NOT stop laughing right there in the lunchroom! Oh, my gosh. I was laughing SO hard. But...what does it even mean?

Me: Wait. You mean you laughed your head off and you didn't even understand the joke?

Princess: Right.

Cowgirl: Oh, my gosh, Princess. I can't believe you didn't get it. It is SO funny! It means that Humpty Dumpty jumped off the wall because his summer was so lousy.

Me: What? No. When it says he had a great 'fall' and a lousy 'summer', they are talking about the seasons. It could have said 'Why did Humpty Dumpty have a great autumn' or 'Why did Humpty Dumpty have a great winter' but then it wouldn't have fit with what is said in the nursery rhyme.

Princess and Cowgirl: WHAT?

Me: The word 'fall' in this joke has two different meanings. One is the season after summer. The other is when gravity makes you drop to the ground. So the joke here is that he didn't actually have a great fall to the ground, he had a great fall, as in autumn, to make up for his lousy summer. Now do you get it?

Princess: OH! Yeah, now I get it. That is pretty funny. I guess that's why it made me laugh so hard.

Hubba: That joke is dumb.

The Running Dream

photo here

A friend of Coolister's gave a glowing recommendation for the book The Running Dream on her Facebook page not too long ago. (Hi Alexis!) Well, because I am always looking for great book recommendations and because running used to be something I loved I decided to give it a go.

It was such an inspiring book! Especially as I am training for TriathaMom. It was fiction that read so believably that I often forgot it was not a true story. I loved it. One of my favorite parts was at the end when the main character, Jessica, realizes that the race she is running finishes in the same place it started and the symbolism there - that the end of this race is really just the start of what she can accomplish from now on.

When I used to hear about sprint triathlons I thought they sounded fun - except for the biking and swimming portions. I knew that I might be able to do the bike part, definitely couldn't do the swim portion, but the run would be a piece of cake. Well, that has flip-flopped. My broken leg, although now healed, has presented some challenges for me. After swimming lessons I am feeling confident in the 300-meter swim. With some practice behind me I am also feeling mostly okay about the 12-mile bike portion. However, despite my training, the 3 mile run is now what makes me the most nervous.

But what I have learned through all of this is that I can overcome obstacles. No matter what is thrown at me in my life, I can get through it. And I will get through it. No matter what happens or how long it takes me, I will finish my race this Saturday.

The finish line will be my starting line. This is just the beginning of what I plan to accomplish.

Thirsty?

I am not sure what to think (beyond being completely grossed out).

Today I got a call from Hubba's school. The principal wanted me to know that Hubba and two other boys were getting drinks from a urinal in the boy's bathroom after recess. He explained to them how dangerous that could be and then had his secretary call the parents of all three boys to tell us what had happened.

When the secretary had finished telling me about the situation she asked if I would like to talk to Hubba for a minute. I wasn't sure what I would say, as I was feeling rather speechless at the moment, (and yes, despite the disgusting factor, I was trying not to laugh - it's just how I deal with things) but I did have a quick chat with him.

He told me that he did it because he saw one of his friends at church do it.

??

Honestly, I don't know what to say. What kid even thinks about getting a drink from a urinal? And how in the world does he convince others to join him in such a thing?

What makes matters even worse is that this is already the second time he's been to the principal's office this year. The first time was for an altercation with another kid who wouldn't move when the class line was walking into the school. Hubba was just behind him and didn't want to break the rule of 'no cutting in line' so instead he decided to kick the kid to get him to move.

What in the world do I do wrong? Is he just being a 6-year-old boy? Am I wrong to feel like a failure as a parent? This is not the Hubba I know.

I have no answers. All I know is that I just love that precocious little kid to the moon and back times infinity and I don't want him to be a troublemaker or have a reputation as one.

The urinal. For reals.

There are no words.

Dawning

(On a recent trip to Cascade Springs - some of my crew +1)

I just recently realized the worst part about having a whole brood of children.

I am birthing these sweet babies, growing them into cute, precocious toddlers, teaching them to be kind, respectful kids, showing them how to be self-sufficient teenagers and then sending them off as responsible, contributing adults.

Once they leave home, they are armed with the skills needed to survive on their own: studying efficiently, budgeting money, doing laundry, cooking meals, and (hopefully) prioritizing time - among other things.

In short: I am raising my kids so they can leave me. I have taught them all that they need to know so that they do not need me anymore.

WHAT WAS I THINKING?!

I can not do this 9 more times. I can't. I can't. I can't!!!

*sigh*

But I will.

(Cascade Springs, August 2011)

Guest Post: Professor Sybill Trelawney

The day began in a most ordinary way. I was deciphering the messages in the dregs of my morning tea when my Inner Eye experienced the strangest sensation. Suddenly, I knew there was a class waiting for me. A class of muggle students, mind you, but a class in dire need of my expertise in the veiled mysteries of the future. I departed at once.

Upon my arrival I immediately shared my gift of divination by reading the teacher's tea leaves and... oh, dear. Really, it is kinder not to say, but he had... the Grim! The giant, spectral dog which haunts churchyards! It was the worst of omens. I didn't intend to frighten anyone, but I knew immediately that I needed to find one in their number who could offer their teacher protection.


I consulted the fates and could sense a strong aura among them. It took me some time to place it - but once I discovered the one who had great receptivity to the resonances of the future I revealed to her the importance of her position. She alone could save her teacher from what the future held in store.


A few unfortunate predictions were pronounced - not by my own thoughts, of course, but by the prompting of fate. And then, before I could offer even the quickest lesson in palmistry or fire-omens, my Inner Eye could sense that my time of departure had come.


As I walked out the door of their classroom I reminded the muggle children of the importance of working together for their teacher's benefit - you know, beware of what lurks in dark shadows and all of that - although I could already see that the Grim was stalking near, growing ever closer. I did not want to frighten the poor dears. However, I will confess that the thought of the teacher's tea reading remained a great concern in my mind.

But really, I had already intermingled with the muggle world more than was prudent. I left in haste.

The Inner Eye can be such a burden at times.

Would you like to read the teacher's account of my visit?
Click here.