Painful Bliss: Day 1

I am a natural beauty junkie. Not the no-make-up-and-hairy-legs kind of natural beauty, but the big-wide-world kind of natural beauty. Nature has a way of de-cluttering my brain and calming me down while simultaneously giving me energy and inspiration.  Not to mention nature is so much nicer to look at than a strip mall, or a gas station, or power lines, or people in thongs and wife beaters with tattoos poking out in all the wrong places. 

It's why we'd rather have a mediocre house on a great lot with mature trees than the "perfect" house on a tiny, tree-less lot. It's why we'd rather travel to cool places than buy toys. It's why we'll always, always, always take a National Park over Vegas or the Mall-of-the-America. 

Which is why our anniversary trip to the central coast of California was like a little slice of heaven in the middle of our workaday life and the cold, grey, brown, dead landscape of a persistent Utah winter.  I had no idea just how much I had been missing it until we got off the plane and started driving south on Pacific Coast Highway under a canopy of lush trees. I know this is completely nuts, but I was actually choking back tears. It was like life was being poured back into me and I didn't even know how starved I was for it until it was suddenly right there.

I'm a little hesitant to post the pictures from our trip, only because I know not everyone is in a position to get away for their anniversary, let alone to a warm and beautiful place in the middle of "winter" (the end of April in Utah . . .), and the last thing I ever want to do is inadvertently make someone else feel depressed about their life or give the impression that we travel the world with money coming out of our ears. (That sounds great for retirement though, doesn't it?) 

It's just that blogging thing again. Anyone reading this blog needs to know that I go out of my way to focus on the most beautiful moments of my life as a way to help me keep focused on the positive. (Because the truly lovely stuff of life is only like 5% of our days, right?) The more I focus on the lovely stuff, the more lovely stuff I notice--make sense? On top of that, I like to use photography to chronicle my life, and photography is also a way to focus in on what you want to see--with the added benefit of being able to crop out anything ugly, distracting, or extraneous. (Oh, that life in general could be like that!)

Case in point: the Thanksgiving Point pics in my last post. That little excursion was squooshed in between 2 piano lessons, a soccer game, a harp recital and a dance recital. All good things, but a little crazy and hectic on the same day, so I was only at Thanksgiving Point for about an hour before I had to get Elizabeth in her costume and ready to go. And speaking of Elizabeth, she was pretty much whining and begging for a drink the entire time until we reached the vendor tents.  But you don't see that in the pictures, do you?  I almost enjoy that trip more now, retrospectively, than I did in the moment. 

And that's why I blog, and that's why I take pictures. It reminds me of one of my favorite quotes, "We write to taste life twice." And I would add, take pictures. 

So just keep that all in mind as I share these pictures. Our real, everyday life is mostly chaos, work, business, busy-ness, rushing, and annoyances, with a few of those lovely moments sprinkled in here and there if we take the time to stop and notice. 

At this stage in our family's life, Brandon and I really have become like the proverbial "two ships passing in the night," so I for one was feeling practically desperate to get away alone together and talk uninterrupted during daylight hours before my nighttime narcolepsy sets in. (That's a joke.  Only kind of.  I can fall asleep pretty much anywhere after about 9pm. Unless I'm blogging.)  

I can hardly believe we pulled off this little getaway! Replacing "Mom" for even a few days is such a major undertaking, it's enough to stop you from ever trying to go on a trip again. You should have seen the pages of information I typed up for our poor babysitter. (Who, by the way, rocked the house. I swear our kids love her more than they do us. She is more fun, by far, and what's more important than that when you're a kid?) From directions to lessons, to special bedtime routines, to mealtime suggestions, to specific homework instructions, to when was garbage day--trying to put on paper and pass off the five million details a mom keeps track of in her head on any given day is NOT easy!  I suppose that's one of the reasons why we've only done this a grand total of 3 times in our 16 years of marriage. (Unless you count the one night-er at a B&B in Iowa. Then it's four.)

Now that we're a little more settled and there are no more babies on the horizon, I'm starting to think these trips need to become the annual norm and not the rare exception. We've failed to go in the past for all the same reasons as everyone else: money, work, babysitters, nursing babies . . . there are so many reasons NOT to go away alone together, but I think it's worth every bit of time and money you can afford.  I wish we would have tried harder to make it work more often in the past, because heaven knows we needed it.

Enough already!  On with the pictures! 

We've talked about driving PCH for years, and only did it one other time two years ago for our anniversary when we still lived in L.A. (Incidentally, that weekend trip was when we decided we needed to move out of CA.) But driving up from L.A. isn't nearly as breathtaking as driving down from the San Francisco area where we flew in.

Off we go:

We couldn't resist stopping off at Carmel-by-the Sea, just about the quaintest little coastal town in the world! We'd love to go back there for our next trip.  (And why do people spend so much time and money traveling to Mexico or Hawaii when they could just go to the California coast? But that's okay, stay away.)

We had so much fun ambling around those cute little streets we lost track of time.  We still had a ways to go and the sun was setting:

For the golf fanatics, that's Pebble Beach on the right:

The one and only bummer of our trip was figuring out about an hour into our drive that PCH was closed a little further down because of a mud slide, so we had to back track and take an inland road the rest of the way, getting us in four hours later than we expected!  I got this shot before it got too dark:

More natural gorgeousness to come another day. . .

Forgiven (Temporarily)

I was very, very mad at Utah the entire month of April.  I think it may have been the most winter-like April I have ever experienced in my life.  Everyone kept saying how unusual it was, but then I heard reports of people running a half marathon in the snow last year near the end of MAY.  

That's when I remembered. I remembered driving home the end of April from BYU to Illinois (and then Iowa--my parents moved twhile I was in Japan as a missionary, mid-college years), and it always seemed like spring had sprung a little faster back there.  

In just the last few weeks it suddenly dawned on me: I live in the HIGH DESERT.  

And I think that means winter lasts longer! 

Is this true? Are there less overcast days (supposedly) than the mid-west, and less wet-cold below freezing days, but the season of winter itself lasts LONGER!?  

I'm trying not to obsess about my natural surroundings too much, but I noticed a MARKED difference in my mood and energy level after coming back from 3 days of warmth and sunshine in California to (hallelujah!) sun in Utah. And while I am grateful for the belated turn in the weather, I am simultaneously already making a new game plan for next winter--which is apparently only 6 months away. (Waaaahhhh!!) It involves tanning beds, vitamin supplements, more time in front of my Happy Lamp, and maybe some heavy medications or Zumba classes.  I might also try to go to Costa Rica during February and March. (Doesn't that just make you smile?) 

In the meantime, like a fickle girlfriend, I've forgiven Utah for it's past transgressions after we had a lovely date together last weekend here: 

They hold a tulip festival every April, and extended it an extra week this year because of the horrible weather. Thank goodness! This little outing came just in the nick of time:

 

 

I had no idea how extensive the gardens were! (Fifty-five acres of themed gardens.) Somehow we missed that last summer/fall when we were first getting acquainted with Thanksgiving Point. Now I'm an even bigger fan.

Until next winter . . .

P.S.  An interesting article on the "Mormon Moment."

My Mother's Day Wish

I love Mother's Day.

But I know not all mothers feel this way, and that makes me sad.

From what I've gathered, there are four main reasons a whole lotta mothers have negative feelings about this holiday:

1) They had a bad relationship with their own mom.
2) They are guilt ridden by their own perceived inadequacies as "The Perfect Mom."
3) They have certain expectations that are never met like breakfast in bed, fresh flowers, or being relieved from any sort of cooking & cleaning.
4) They feel like it's a forced, disingenuous holiday manufactured by Hallmark, soliciting insincere compliments, cards, and thanks they don't feel they deserve (see #2).

I used to battle some of these same thoughts and feelings, but have finally made peace with Mother's Day. How? By creating my own purpose for Mother's Day.

And it's not about me.

If you think about every one of those grievances listed above, it's all about the mother. Why not turn things around and use Mother's Day to focus on how much you love and appreciate your children?

On Mother's Day, I like to reflect on how much I love my children, how grateful I am to be a mother, and (thanks to a recent article I read just yesterday) all the ways I really am a great mom--as opposed to thinking about my deficiencies, as usual!

Here's a brief excerpt from the article. (Incidentally, this mother had a young adult son who committed suicide, so she knows a little about mother's guilt.) 

This Mother’s Day season I’ve decided to do something novel: celebrate the things I did right.

Since I tend to be a behavioral perfectionist, I’ve been excellent at reminding myself of things I might have done better. I’ve learned, however, that humility is quite a different thing from self--flagellation, and that the Lord wants me to repent and rejoice, not hang my head and plod along feeling bad because I’ve had to learn “line upon line” like every other mortal mother.

So, for this Mother’s Day, I’ve decided to be kinder to myself, remembering how much I have always loved my children and how much I enjoyed each one, treasuring the joy of caring for them when they were tiny. I’m reminding myself that all through the years of raising them I did the very best I could with what I knew and understood at the moment.

I’m remembering the hours I read to my children and sang to them, my desire to teach them the gospel, the scripture story tapes and songs they heard as they drifted off to sleep night after night.

Instead of lamenting lack of regular, family prayer I’m remembering the tradition I had of putting my arms around each school-age child separately and praying for them before they went out the door in the morning. Instead of regretting the vacations we couldn’t afford, I’m remembering a few special times when I gave each child an afternoon with Mom alone--cavorting in the park, going out for hamburgers, feeding the pigeons and the ducks, doing whatever they wanted to do. Instead of worrying about all the noisy, disorderly years when the house was full of growing boys, I’m remembering that the kids felt free to bring their friends home, that they were the first in the neighborhood to have a computer, so all the kids “hung out” at our house and I knew where they were. I’m remembering the canyon outings I took them on, and later, the campouts. One time when I was the only adult camping with all five of my boys and two neighbor boys, the Scoutmaster said he was about to recruit me!

Instead of worrying that I didn’t create the “perfect” home for my children and didn’t show them an example of a “perfect” marriage, I’m remembering how totally I’ve always loved them, how I would have (and still would) do anything in the world for their well-being, how I could look in any son’s eyes and say honestly, “I want you to know I will always love you--no matter what!”

This Mother’s Day I’m going to rejoice over the good memories and love myself a little better for how very much I always wanted to do right by my children. By being a little nicer to myself, I hope to give the Savior more reason to rejoice too. After all, “inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these . . . ye have done it unto me.”

1 Corinthians 13 highlights the power of love and how it can never fail.  That means that if you love your children and they know it, by definition you cannot be a failure!  In my opinion, beyond love, everything else is just icing on the cake. 

As soon as I woke up this morning, Elizabeth was on my bed with her homemade presents.  One was a booklet she made at school, and on one of the pages was a little sheet that said "All About My Mom."  Two of the fill-in-the-blank descriptions caught my attention.  One was "My mother loves . . . " Elizabeth could have easily written "her computer" or "dark chocolate" or "a clean house"--but what did she write? ME. I couldn't have scripted that better.

The last one was "My mom is beautiful because she. . ." Again, she could have written various descriptions of my overwhelming physical beauty (laughing here) or who knows what, but do you know what makes me beautiful to her? Here's what she wrote, "My mom is beautiful because she loves me."

That's what matters to our children. That's what makes us beautiful in their eyes: love.

So again, if you love your children (and I'm sure you do!), I hope you will find JOY in that thought and have a HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!

And that's my wish today for all mother's everywhere . . .