Equine time.

Inevitable upon her course

was Paige's appointment with a horse.

She's dreamed and hoped and pleaded and begged me

To ride a horse, to meet her destiny.

Just ONE for the backyard, initially in jest.

Then she matured into more reasonable requests.

Her birthday--the perfect day to shower

this girl with surprise of Equine heaven--for an hour.

One brown horse fulfilled her dream

Trotting and grooming, Miss Paige felt like a queen.

{or atleast the queen's stablegirl}

Promises for more have been bestowed,

for who am I to deny her the road...

...to her destiny.

...in which I am a mother.

"It will be gone before you know it. The fingerprints on the wall appear higher and higher. Then suddenly they disappear. "
- Dorothy Evslin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Which reminds me: I need to enjoy this 'hood a little bit more. {I am speaking of the Motherhood}. Ya know, just not taking it for granted. Though blessed with a full life, sometimes it's abundance of full-ness makes for a lot of busy-ness. Days dotted with a lot of fingerprint-wiping, if you know what I mean. Instead of ignoring the fingerprints and enjoying the little fingers that made them in the first place...

Wiping Fingerprints: A metaphor for anything that keeps me from what's important.

Moments will often find me:

* Chanting, Okay, hurry, hurry everyone in the van!...whilst a little person is begging me to fix a lumpy sock inside their shoe and absolutely cannot budge because they are beside themselves with agony over it...

* Hurrying them to bed so I can have "me" time, and then missing them when they have drifted off to dream, sitting by their bedside marveling at their perfect eyelashes...

* Telling them to clean up those toys before we donate them to children in Africa. That night, swallowing the lump in my throat when my daughter cries about the African children who have no toys and guilts me with, Mom, I really want to build a house for those kids and give them toys, too...

These are moments in a mother's life. The joy of motherhood comes in moments, as Elder Ballard reminds us. We make of these moments what we will. We make or break them. Sometimes, I break them. But, to be fair, I can be found making the heck out of them, too. I just need to be in the moments that could really count for something.

Anna Quindlen drew a nice picture of it for me when she said:

“The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make. . . . I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of [my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less”

You've heard it, right? If not, I am happy to be the one to introduce this little nugget into your repertoire of favorite quotes on motherhood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes I think I hear echoes of who I am supposed to be, the mother I am supposed to be. Are they echoes from a time we knew before this time? Are the echoes deep with promises I would have made then? Things I vowed to do and hopes for the great woman I would be? I don't want to regret these years, I want to have warm memories of these years, and, more importantly, I want my children to have warm memories of these years. And I mean "warm" in a very literal sense--warm, cozy, safe.

I want them to remember the mom that let them make a mess in the kitchen when they wanted to "make up a recipe". I want them to remember the mom who let them eat all the peanut-butter playdoh, instead of playing with it. I want them to remember the mom who turned up the music and sang and danced with them 'til we were sweaty and spent. The same mom who taught them about a Father in Heaven, who loves them and has a plan for them...

Punctuated throughout those remembrances, there will be other kinds of memories, inevitable as an imperfect parent. Still, I can always hope for the best...

I guess this has turned into an essay. Sometimes I write essays. And I don't even have to, or anything. It just feels really good. Really, really good. Writing. I like it. And, this is one I happen to let other people read. 'Cause other moms read this sometimes. And, we moms have to stick together.

In short:

Fingerprints: Leave them be.

Poor Woody...

...he never saw it coming.

Little did he know, he had moved into Sid's house...

economy-schmonomy

Steve and I were just joking the other day about it seems that "The Economy" has become the go-to scape goat of late...the excuse for anything that goes wrong...

Then I read this article from a great and often un-PC writer {this article being one of her most mild--if you read on, you'll discover the controversy} and had a good ha...haha..ha... moment.

Read the post I wish I wrote first, here.

Inspiration revisited

There was this talk that absolutely spoke to me.

For a reminder of something beautiful, click here, please.

And for the talk in it's entirety, go ahead, click.

Now, let's be about some creating.

the eatery: before & after

We did a little facelift on our kitchen counters.

I like it.

Before (with paid actor)

After (with bad lighting, sorry)

Before (with raised bar)

After (no more raised bar)

Flat and shiny. Now the kids can see what I'm doing up here. And I love all the work space. The better to make cookies with, my dear.

Oh, and we got a new table and chairs (wholesale deal-e-o: sweet.)....

...because this happened.......twice.

It's amazing how clean I keep this place now. Why didn't I think of this sooner?, witty husband says.

Sweet Reunion.

Chantilly, Virginia. Greenbriar West Elementary. 5th Grade. Jessica and I met.

Monkey bars. Passing notes. Boys chasing us on the playground.

We quickly developed an adhesion at our hips, which kept us together most of the time. Though she already had a twin sister, I was lucky enough to squeeze myself into their sisterhood for a few years.

Slumber parties. Secrets. Crushes. Amateur choreography.

We drove together to school everyday and then back home again. Most days were spent at her house after school for snacks, homework, bike rides, gossip...

Show Choir. Cheerleading. Shopping. Giggling, lots of giggling.

She's a bit of a kindred, this one. But after I moved away at 15, we eventually lost contact. Through the years, I wondered what had happened to my long lost best friend--where she might be, if she was married...well, Blogger and Facebook cured that.

After an 17-year-haitus, we reconnected and marveled that, up until last year, we were living just cities away from each other.

{sigh} Bummer.

So, after a few months and several long emails, Jess said:

Guess what, Lisa? We are coming down to Arizona for a visit--can we come see you?!

My response? Um, let me think about it, Long Lost Best Friend.....YES!

Our visit was long on nostalgia and short on time. Oh, too short. I met her sweet husband and gorgeous little boy, and we both found ourselves taking a moment every so often to say, "You really look exactly the same!" "You sound the same!" "Can you believe we are holding each others' babies right now?"

After the door shut behind her, I was quite decided that this will not be the beginning of another lengthy separation. I want her to live around the corner, like old times, and be my best friend and swap recipes {instead of jelly bracelets} and have our little babies grow up together...I'm feeling very sentimental, is it obvious?

However, it would not be fair for me to always get my way, so I will have to settle for a renewed friendship across statelines. We have emails, phonecalls, and occasional visits to satisfy.

So, Jess, for now I will leave you with an homage to junior high:

LYLAS

BFF

TTYL

Jessica, me, twin sis Sarah

Circa 1991

High flyers

Windy day.

Bum kite.

Loads of fun with daddy.

Flutterby

Preston's preschool had a field trip to the Desert Botanical Gardens.

Best part: the Butterfly Pavilion

The boys made some new butterfly friends:

{Can you see the orange Monarch? Gavin can.}

We rubbed orange slices on our arms so the butterflies would land on us--it worked!

Trevorfly

Prestonfly

These are some of the glass sculptures on display at the gardens, which were cool, but let's face it--it's just another reason to capture my babies in time, that's all.

The End.

Spring cleaning.

I have been doing some serious spring cleaning, people.

We're talking baseboards

ceiling fans

handles of kitchen cabinets

tile grout

shampooing carpets

filling those pesky holes in the walls

paint touch-up

vacuuming smoke detectors and vents

Serious, right?

But, just to make sure we don't get too serious, let's lighten the mood:

Hmm. Still too serious.

Far too serious...

Ahh...this is better. Foot-loose and fancy free makin' cookies at preschool.

{I need that hat, Mrs. Cynthia.}

So, if you are in need of help with your spring cleaning

just refer to the list above for some great ideas.

;)

A photo essay

by: A Fly On the Wall


Setting: Father of the household, accountant, arrives home from early-morning workout at the gym. Due to be at the office to meet the demands of tax season, he opts for a swordfight with two of his young sons. Wears empty cereal box for a shield and proceeds to take a beating. This is his account.

The End.

One wish.

Our baby girl turned eight last week.

Reflecting on this down-right momentous day, I confess that our baby is growing up. Do you know how I know? Well, it's an easy deduction. Let me illustrate:

How you know your little girl is growing up

* Her favorite colors are blue, green, and brown--not pink

as was the norm just a few short years ago.

* As you are walking around the store, you look down and realize you are accidentally wearing her brown flip-flops--and they fit just fine.

* For her birthday, she asked for new books and a pack of gum. Not one toy necessary.

* Sometimes you get in back-and-forth arguments with her, as if you are sisters, instead of mother and daughter--and your husband has to pull you out of your tween flashback and back to the fact that you are the mom.....Oh ya, sorry.

* When completing the Student of the Week poster for class, her answer for "If I had one wish in the world, it would be...." was

"that there would be a medasine for all the sick people and no one would go to the hospitel."

She discusses how she might want to change this answer because all the other kids in her class completed that same sentence with "a million dollars."

But everyone might laugh at me.

You know what? It is always, always, always okay to be different if you are choosing something good.

Then she cried. And decided to leave the poster as it was.

{Not to discredit those children for their grand wish... a whole lot of good can be accomplished when one has a million dollars...in fact, I myself have several great ideas....}

* She gets upset with me at dinnertime because she is not allowed to help cook on the stovetop. I have just started letting her chop fruits and veggies {with supervision} and that is currently the closest to catastrophy that I will allow.

*She wakes up to her alarm, showers, dresses and does hair without prompting. {We're still working on the bed-making, however.}

* She gets teary when we talk about her approaching baptism day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time to blow out the candles:

Can I make eight wishes, since I'm eight?

Uh...hurry, just one, the camera's about to die....

I make a wish too.

Stay little.

Nuts, I just told you, now it won't come true.

Curses! It's all this tell-all-blog's fault.

eight = celebrate

Agenda:

Invite a fun friend over

Eat Hawaiian Haystacks

Drink fruit smoothies

Open presents, and enjoy Paige's reaction when she opens a small box with a coupon good for "One Horseback Riding Lesson" {Aaaahhh!!! Are you serious? Is this real?! This is just as good as if you got me a real horse, like I've always wanted!}

Stare at our creation--a cake shaped like a present (with fondant--fun, pretty, and thoroughly un-tasty) and then grimace as you cut into it, after all that work.

Attend School Talent Show (this was her request)

Happy Birthday, Paige!

Deep breath.

I am fascinated by the memories that are conjured up with particular scents.

I thought about this earlier this week when I walked into Office Max, and took a deep whiff (as I always do, this smell is intoxicating to me. Wierd?) and had the memory of my father's print shop, bulging with paper, paper, paper...Summers working there with him and my mom, collating, stitching...more collating.

I thought of more similar experiences that I've had with aromas, scents, smells, etc....

Pumpkin candles--my sister's house --specifically, my junior year at BYU, when I would come to her safe haven and escape my singles ward world for a few hours, play with her girls, do their hair, help them with homework, do her dishes, drink in the feel of family....

Saran Wrap--the NICU. I think it's because of all the sterile equipment, etc. I'm not sure. The smell reminds me of our preemie Trevor (smallest weight was 3' 13") and those very long 6 weeks that he stayed there. Ventilator, blood transfusion, me pumping, brain ultrasounds, feeding tube, apnea, not learning how to eat until the day before we took him home... It was emotionally, physically, and spiritually exhausting and yet, I still have warm feelings when I think of those quiet moments of holding him and singing to him and trying to make sure he could smell my skin and be close as often as possible...And now look at him! Blessings.

Packaged apple cider--my dad's office when I was a kid, they had a stash of this stuff.

B&B Works Dancing Waters--9th grade roommate, Mary. Yes, 9th grade roommate. I lived with a family from church for most of that year while my dad was commuting for work. This new B&B scent hints to me of Mary's scent of choice, Jessica McClintock. Images of late night chats, laughing-so-hard-we-couldn't-breath, the ballet posters on her walls, 80's remix tapes...

Skin Perfume --my mom. A few weeks ago I sat down for choir practice and I said, "Ooh, I smell my mom....", closing my eyes, with repeated sniffs. I asked the sister next to me what she was wearing and, sure enough, it was mom's perfume. It's soft and warm and incredibly unoffensive to the senses--like my mom ;) My mom has always smelled good. She used to wear Heaven Scent, until it was discontinued...I think our entire family tried to track that stuff down for her because, well, I couldn't imagine her smelling like anything else...but this stuff is a close second.

Tresemme' hairspray--my sis...and all 7 of her daughters, actually. They all use it. Every bathroom in their house smells like it...

Ulta shower gel--my first miscarriage. I don't even remember the specific scent. I threw it away...Out of the kindness of her heart, a friend bought me this after I had come back from the hospital. She wanted me to feel pampered. I lathered with it for the first week or so, and then after that, each time I opened the bottle, fresh memories of pain and emptiness resurfaced so I chucked it.

Popcorn--the halls of my elementary school. The kindergarteners would have popcorn for their snack and the scent would waft down the halls...

Gerber Oatmeal Baby Wash--One-year-old Paige. There are some imitations out there, but this is discontinued. This is the stuff I used for Paige when she was in the just learning to walk, newly formed curls, binky stage. Oh, I miss that little baby girl.

Mary Kay Hydrating Lotion--nausea, nausea, nausea...My othermother (foyoinfo: To me, the terms "stepmom" or "stepdad" have neg. connotations, so for my purposes it's "my othermother" and "my father". Make sense?) gave this to me during my the very first trimester of my last pregnancy. Now, I can't touch the stuff. Too bad too, 'cause it's nice.

Cinnamon Plug-ins--our first home. The model of this home had a cinnamon air freshener somewhere--oh, I think it was one of those that sprays puffs of scent every once in awhile. Anyway, I frequented that model home often, picturing my furniture there, measuring walls, matching paint colors...


I'll add more as it comes to me.

FHE Chronicles: The Mall

We were supposed to go ice skating...but we didn't plan ahead (except to bundle the kids in whatever scant winter-wear we could find) so when we got there, we were greeted by several hulky hockey teams playing.

Bummer.

What do we do now?

No ice skating, so how about ice cream? Seems like a fair trade.

Then we headed to the mall because...well, why not?

The kids played on the indoor playground, had 25 cent gumballs, and then we passed one of those photobooths.

Could we pass it up? We could not.

I'll let you imagine how comical this scene was--our family of six trying to squeeze into this photobooth. To say the least, many on-lookers were treated to some free Monday night entertainment.

Mommy/Daddy date - Paige

It was Paige's turn this time.

Her b-day is this week so we were celebrating that as well. She chose Mimi's Cafe (though we gently nudged her in that direction since she had a free kids meal coupon she won at school).

It was pretty fantastic because she didn't know the servers would bring our dessert with a candle in it just for her--accompanied by singing!! She'd never seen such a delight!!

I won't soon forget the pure joy in her face as they were singing to her--followed by a gracious and audible, "Thank you!", from our almost-eight-year-old.

The evening culminated with finding a dress for her baptism day and, what else? A new chapter book for our voracious reader.

Thanks for coming on our date, Paigie! So thankful for your spot in our family! Love you, love you!

Reward.

The other day Preston's sword was put in "time out" because he was being to rough...so instead of just handing it to me, he did this:

Here you go, Your Majesty.

(insert hearty laughter.)

Seriously. Who doesn't love being a mom? To experience moments like these? They are like these little rewards throughout the day to remind us to enjoy it.

Almost makes the gum on my new rug worth it...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

President Hinckley said it best with the famed quote:

In all of living, have much fun and laughter.

Life is to be enjoyed, not just endured.

So true.

The other day Paige was singing to this song on our blog, by David Cook, "Time of my Life"--can you hear it now? Yes, this is the one.

After she sang the lyrics, "this is the time of my life" over an over again,

she paused.

Then said, Mom

you know what?

They should have this song playing as you walk around Disneyland

because while you are there,

you are really having the time of your life!

Well said, my girl. Well said.

{from the Disneyland Trip Summer 2006 Archives}