Arches Day 1

We fancy ourselves an "outdoorsy" family. For as long as we've been married we've talked about taking our kids to as many National Parks as possible. We didn't do much when we lived in Iowa because we were too busy having babies and being broke while Brandon went through those lovely nine years of med school and residency, but we enjoyed what we could in California despite throwing another baby into the mix right in the middle of our four years there. (Have I mentioned I don't do the infant year very well?) 

We went to Rocky Mountain National Park during our cross country move from IA to CA (superficially), spent a few hours at Sequoia National Park after a job interview about a year ago (I still get shivers down my spine when I think that we almost moved to Fresno!), and spent a day hiking one of the islands that are part of Channel Islands National Park last spring break. That's it. (Brandon, however, went on several backpacking trips with the scouts to Yosemite and Joshua Tree National Park while we lived in CA. He's into ultra-light backpacking.)

After 16 years of marriage, 13 years of parenthood and 4 children, it's time to get serious. 

We live in Utah after all. Did you know there are no less than EIGHT National Parks in Utah? So last week we did what any self-respecting Utahan would do for spring break: we rented an RV and went to Arches National Park.  For FOUR FULL DAYS!  We can now say we really did Arches. 

Incidentally, renting the RV has been part of the dream for some time as well. It really was a blast.  Even if we didn't realize it had a heater the first night and froze our tushies off. Even though Will's toothbrush fell into the toilet water that sloshed all over the bathroom floor because we forgot to shut it while driving around. Even though we had a pickle juice volcano (leaking pickle juice + baking soda) in our fridge one day because, again, everything slides all over the place while driving. The kids loved sleeping over the driver's cab, I loved the convenience of a fridge and toilet on the road, Brandon was surprised to find he loved (liked) the bed, and we all loved having outlets for our techy gear at the end of the day. (We are not extremists.)

Get ready for the marathon of all marathon blog posts.  I can't go to a place of natural beauty with my family and not spend the majority of the time taking pictures.  

This is just DAY 1. We hiked to Landscape Arch and Double O Arch. A little over 4 miles there and back, it was the longest hike of the entire trip. 

First, the "truck house" as Rachael called it:

Up in the tree house:

 Everybody seemed to take a turn on Brandon's ukelele:

At the RV park the first morning, putting together a remote control helicopter Will got for his birthday:

 The Visitor Center:

We couldn't leave Bob behind:

Climbing around after lunch, before the hike:

Elizabeth was pretty excited about catching a bunch of red ants:

Time to get moving:

Vertical wall:

Mini sand dune:

Tunnel Arch:

Landscape Arch:

 We took a little snack break and the chipmunks started to show up:

We almost turned back after Landscape Arch, wondering if Elizabeth would make it without undo whining if we decided to double our trip from 2 to 4 miles by going on to Double O Arch. She did skin her knee and need some babying from Mom, but we were so glad we went all the way to Double O because the next part of the hike was so gorgeous:

At this point there was no clear, defined trail, only cairns guiding us in the right direction. This part of the trail took us to the top of those rocks in this picture below:

A cairn:

Looking back once we got to the top: 

Wildflowers:

Lichen:

Elizabeth traveling along a fin:

This point was the highlight of the entire hike:

Kate was saying she wished she could fly:

Brandon was enamored with all the bonsai like trees everywhere:

Double O Arch:

My favorite:

Heading back:

This shot gives a better perspective of that blob of rocks we first climbed on our way to Double O:

Home again, home again:

Going, going . . .

Gone:

I'll Take Showers

"I hope it rains. Because then there will be lots of flowers on my birthday." Elizabeth (a May birthday)

This sweet, optimistic sentiment by my 6-year-old is what is getting me through this insidious month of April here in Utah. (How did I get here? Wasn't I living in sunny southern California this time last year? Couldn't I be biking at the beach right now? You're saving money, Al, you're saving money. . .) I thought March was bad, but now that it's April, I really do expect things to warm up. The phrase is "April showers bring May flowers," not "April snowstorms . . . " 

At least there have been a few, sporadic days of warm and sunshine when we've been able to play outside. But then this: 

Brandon even put his trees out.  They're back in now:

I need green. NOW! The days of the "dun-colored heath" have had their time.  

Free us, Spring, free us for Pete's sake!!

Eating My Words

Speaking of Will . . . did you notice right after I posted about how I was finally coming to grips with the fact that our family was just not going to be a "sporty" family I started posting about soccer practices and games?

Ya.

And if that isn't the epitome of motherhood and life in general, then I don't know what is.  Just when you think you have things all figured out and want to cleanly define everything in your life--BOOM!

Probably a week after that post (after I had asked both Will and Elizabeth approximately fifty times if they wanted to do soccer this year before throwing all the information away that came home in their backpacks) Will told me he wanted to do soccer!

Several of his friends at school are playing, and one in particular took it upon himself to "train" him during recess, and encouraged him to join his team since they were short on players.  Miracle of miracles, he took the bait!  I am grateful for the influence of friends--when it's good!

So, much to my surprise, I now find myself driving all over tarnation several times a week, washing the only pair of soccer socks in the house over and over, texting Will's friend's mom to find out what time are we supposed to be there again? for the fourth time in as many days, coordinating rides for my other children to get to the places they need to be since I'm sitting on the soccer field (or more accurately, standing in between the soccer field and the playground where Rachael hollers my name every five seconds to WATCH!!), and wondering who in the world is going to make dinner.

Mixed feelings, people, mixed feelings.

But I do like to see my boy having a good time on the field with the other players, working his muscles, learning a new sport. It's a good thing, right?

Will's 10th Birthday

I love celebrating birthdays. I mean, who doesn't like a whole day that revolves around them? And more often than not, between school, friends, and family, these little birthday celebrations end up stretching out over a few days, which can be both fun and tiring. (Especially for the mother--the tiring part.) But we do what we do because we love our kids, and spoiling them on their one special day each year is one of the perks of motherhood in my opinion. 

My kids always get to pick out a sugary cereal to enjoy for their birthday breakfast. This year Will picked one that seems to show up over and over again on birthdays at our house: Cookie Crisp.  

Mid-morning, I brought treats to his class and shared a few funny stories to go with his "Student of the Week" poster.  The funniest story to me was the time he was sleep walking in the middle of the night and started playing "Jingle Bells"on the piano. The music woke him up and he started to cry!  (He's also relieved himself in some interesting places while sleep walking. . .)  Here he is with his teacher.

For whatever reason, Will has taken on the persona of "class clown" since moving to Utah--and seems to be very well liked for it!  Since he gets great grades and hasn't been in any real trouble for several months (we had to rein him in a bit when we first moved here), I guess I should just be glad he has so much self-confidence and is so well liked. (I have to admit, he is pretty funny.) You get a little flavor of his personality here. (And I swear he has jeans that actually fit without holes in them, but I'm pretty sure he thinks his "holy" jeans are cool.) 

Just a few hours later I picked him up and took him to In-N-Out for lunch, just the two of us. 

Of course he got to choose his favorite dinner that night. (Are you getting the idea that we like food? 'Cause we do!)  I'd link to the recipe, but it's MINE! And it's GOOD! (I don't have a lot of original recipes, so I'm kind of proud of that . . .)  We just call it "Cajun Shrimp Pasta," and for the life of me I can't figure out why this picky eater loves it so much.  It's spicy, full of shrimp, spinach, tomatoes, and onions. Go figure. 

 I know you want the recipe, don't you?

After dinner we put Will in the customary "hot seat," and had everyone share what they love about him.  We were lucky enough to have Mimi and Papa (my parents) on the phone to share as well.  Then he opened up the presents from us and both sets of grandparents.

We really only got him one big gift (which he had to find outside after figuring out a riddle/poem that Brandon wrote), so I got a little creative just to give him something else to open. He actually LOVED this gift--his own jar of REAL bacon bits, one of his favorite things.

He was also pretty excited about getting a long board: 

We really should have called it quits right there, but because I am a pushover on my kids' birthdays, and I've never really made a specific plan for how to handle birthdays like so many other deliberate, conscientious mothers I know, we ended up having a friend party as well. (You know how some families only do friend parties on certain years or every other year?  It's a great idea, especially with multiple children in the home. I just got too far into motherhood before making a decision, and ended up being bulldozed. Consider yourself warned, young mothers of the world!)

We held the party at our favorite warehouse turned trampoline pit ("Jump On It") so the boys could knock themselves out and enjoy total mayhem in a contained environment. They were so sweaty, stinky, and spastic! One of the boys' parents sent him with money for some reason, and I think he spent it all (like $10) on candy from the vending machines. You should have seen all the candy, screaming, and general ten-year-old boy bedlam. It was awesome.

 I can't believe I didn't get any pictures of them actually on the trampolines! 

 

 Is it just me, or does it look like some of them are crashing after the sugar/adrenaline rush?

Will wanted me to make his favorite monster cookies for the party instead of a cake, but I couldn't resist trying a new recipe, and I'm so glad I did! I know everyone has their favorite type of chocolate chip cookie (gooey vs. chewy vs. cakey vs. crispy) and this is it for me! (Choose your copycat recipe.) The boys were so sugared up from the candy I don't think they fully appreciated my delectable offering, but these sweet girls enjoyed a cookie or two. (That's pizza crust hanging out of Rachael's dazed face. Doesn't she look funny?) 

What? Did you think the party was over? Last but not least, on Sunday, Brandon's dad was in town from California, and since their birthdays are one day apart and they are both named William we just HAD to have a cake together. Again, per Will's request, I made a chocolate chip chocolate cake with my mom's peanut butter frosting, decorated with Reese's Pieces. (No, that doesn't stand for World War II, silly! It's for our two Williams! Get it?)

And that concludes the three day long birthday extravaganza.

To understand Will a little bit better, right now he's reading "Where the Red Fern Grows" for an upcoming book report. (Did I mention he has a book report EVERY MONTH!?) There's a part in the book when someone doubts Little Ann's ability to hunt well because she's such a small hound, to which Billy's grandpa replies, "Dynamite comes in small packages." Will picked up on that and has adopted it as his reply when people comment on his size.

I have to agree. Will is DYNAMITE!

Being June Cleaver

This is for Motherhood Matters today--because it's after midnight. (Yikes!) I'd love to hear your feedback. (Comments validate my existence. Almost as much as being needed by little dependent people all day every day.)

June Cleaver has been the butt of many jokes over the years. She became the quintessential mother during the postwar era, donning pearls and heels on an ordinary day while dishing up moral guidance and comfort alongside her hearty and well balanced five o’clock dinner. 

For whatever reason, she came to represent all things good and right in the realm of motherhood, but as wonderful as she was (and she was) she was also quite fictional. Her spotlessly clean house was a Hollywood set created and maintained by others, her hair and wardrobe chosen and put together by professionals, and her perfectly delivered words of wisdom crafted by staff writers. 

And therein lies the joke. June Cleaver was just too darn perfect.  No mother can really have it all together like that. No mother can really be that good. 

Or can she? 

What was it that earned June Cleaver her Supermom status? Was it really her frilly aprons and matching china? I think not. I can’t believe I’m about to quote wikipedia on June Cleaver, but here it goes. “June Cleaver remains calm amid household tumult, providing crucial guidance to her sons while shielding them from nefarious outside influences with a matronly force of will.”  

Translation: she didn’t freak out when things got dicey at home, she tried to protect her sons by teaching them right from wrong, and she stood her ground when anything got in the way of that. 

So, what’s the joke? 

For some reason we can’t get past the clutter-free living room and her dainty pill box hat. Being the visual creatures that we are, we get hung up on the stuff we see and immediately start connecting dots that aren’t even on the same page.  

Sure, June Cleaver was white, middle class, suburban, and probably both Republican and Christian (just a wild stab in the dark). And, yes, her house was spotless, her meals full of wholesome goodness, and her dresses divine, but the fact of the matter is, anyone can be a June Cleaver. Not the white, middle class, perfectly dressed June Cleaver, but the patient, moral, dedicated to her family June Cleaver. 

More than 50 years have gone by since the days of June Cleaver, but we mothers still get hung up on our own modern stereotypes of “good” motherhood based on pop culture or whatever sub-culture happens to be around us. Depending on when and where we grew up, each of us comes into motherhood with our own pre-conceived notions of “good.”

Maybe you think “good” mothers ensure their children all learn two instruments, or blog about every milestone in their child’s life, or volunteer to be room mother every year, or sew adorable pillow covers and curtains, or make spinach pasta from scratch. And since you don’t do any of those things you will never be inducted into The Good Mothers Society.  

But our message at The Power of Moms is that motherhood is more than our personal preferences, personalities types, hobbies and interests. Motherhoodis more than pop culture or the sub-culture of our specific communities. And motherhood is definitely more than challenging life circumstances that often prevent us from having/doing many of the things we may have previously considered pre-requisites of “good” motherhood. 

So forget about striving for some sort of visible, superficial Supermom status. Each wonderfully unique woman in every culture and life circumstance can be a truly great mother in her own right. Forget the photo op and just be your own kind of good mother. 

The kind that doesn’t freak out when things get dicey at home. The kind that does her best to protect her children by teaching them right from wrong. The kind that stands her ground when anything gets in the way of that.  

Be a June Cleaver. 

Conference Report

First, let me just say that the last four days since my last post have been NUTS! Some weeks really are crazier than others. 

Between Thursday and Saturday we had no less than FOUR piano things: a monthly group lesson, regular lessons, a bi-annual recital, and the annual AIM Program (Achievement In Music) which provides ten levels of testing and awards. (Both the recital and the AIM program required "Sunday best" clothing so you can imagine how my kids appreciated that on a Friday and Saturday . . .) Then there was a TH soccer practice and a SA game. William's 10th birthday (which requires a post of it's own) was on Thursday so I made a trip to the school to spotlight him/take in a treat, and then we had a party for him with friends on Friday night. Of course, Brandon was on call all weekend and pretty busy, so that made everything even nuttier, and I just couldn't stop myself from going into super cook/bake mode for my son's birthday, making huge messes in the kitchen that I just STARED at last night after this long run of crazy days. (I won't tell you how many episodes of "Last Cake Standing" I watched last night, coat still on after going to the grocery store at 9pm, unable to move amid the mess and my fatigue, until Brandon got home from the hospital around midnight and put me to bed.)

But how can I complain when I am busy with so many good things?  I'm not really complaining, I just get aggravated when I do finally run out of gas and hit the wall. (Oh, that I didn't need sleep!  The things I could accomplish!)

On top of everything else, this weekend was General Conference, our church's bi-annual world-wide meeting. It's broadcast all over the world, but since we live so close and we had tickets, Kate and I actually got to go to the Saturday morning session in the Conference Center. There are four, two-hour sessions for the general membership spread out over Saturday and Sunday, with other gender specific sessions for the men and women on Saturday nights. (I don't know what you would compare this to--maybe going to the Vatican to hear the Pope address the entire Catholic church? Except that there are several speakers, both men and women in leadership positions, not just the president of the church. I'm not aware of any other type of meeting like this among other faiths, though I'm sure there are.) 

In any case, among all those other "good things," this was the best. And it was so fun to go to a "live" session with just Kate and I! Brandon went to the men's session on Saturday night with his Dad who is in town from California, and today we watched it at home on TV with his Dad, his brother, wife and kids who are also in town from California for their spring break. Happy days!

I know it sounds crazy if you aren't a member of our faith, but conference weekend really is a highlight in our year. (I know, eight to ten hours of religious instruction in one weekend? Thrilling, right?) It's just a great time to gather as a family and feast on inspirational messages and music that bring a wonderful feeling into the heart and home. (And we ate some pretty good food too. That never hurts.) 

In the Conference Center:

Nice, fuzzy close-up of the president of our church and his two counselors:

 Kate and I:

 Fountain in the foyer:

Looking up:

One of the fun things about going to General Conference in person besides the obvious (among other things, hearing the Mormon Tabernacle Choir perform live is seriously thrilling), is seeing how things happen behind the scenes. Kate had never been before, so she was a little surprised by the security check at the door:

And the ever present anti-Mormons and security:

If you can't read the sign below it says, "LDS: Liars, Deceivers, Seducers" Sweet! That's totally how I see myself and the leadership of our church. For an interesting take on how we view the leadership of our church, click here. As hard as they try, it's tough for people outside our faith to really get it, and I always end up feeling like I'm being made to look like a blind fool. This article does a pretty good job of trying to show balance, but it still misses the mark for me.

 21,000 people fit in the Conference Center, so it's pretty busy outside between sessions (the Salt Lake temple is just across the street):

Kate and I were so sad that we had to hurry home since Brandon had a surgery to attend to, because the temple grounds were SO pretty, showing signs of spring everywhere:

Then there is the architecture. We're a little starved for plant life and historical buildings where we live (we're always wondering why we don't live on the east coast) so we feast on this stuff when we can:

It's kind of crazy to think of what this valley must have looked like when Brigham Young and those pioneers showed up over 150 years ago.  It wasn't even part of the United States then!

"This is the right place."

Here's to a calmer, saner week ahead . . .