Whenever I feel blue, I start breathing again.

This entry is really more about my birthday than feeling blue. . . but the sentiment expressed the essence of my epiphony this year. So I included it. I came to the conspicuous conclusion that often when things don't seem to go right for me, it is invariably due the fact that I am neglecting certain obvious and necessary things in my life; like breathing for instance! Too often i like to look outward for the cause of my grief, my discomfort, and my frustration, when it all to frequently stems from myself. So go figure. I'm a little slow, but this coming year I have decided that I will try to remember to "breathe" a bit more!

So for the fun stuff. My birthday. Happened a while ago, but I am not counting down or back the days to my birthday anymore. Just another day, for the most part, but a day to make excuses for special treats. This year's treat was a fun day at the BYU/SDSU football game in San Diego. But not before a mad dash to the San Diego Zoo, where we jumped aboard the sky tram in a scramble to see the polar bears and the snow that was delivered just for them to play in. We sprinted back to the tram and out to the car, grabbed a lightening fast lunch at Chipotle, and made it to the game in time for kick off. Despite threatening dark skys and sporadic showers, we had a ton of fun and frozen feet. Matthew honed in on the puddles that could be found scattered throughout the stadium, and within 5 minutes had succeeded in soaking himself and any unfortunate, although amused, passers-by! And while he provided some side entertainment for several spectators, Alaina was more intrigued by the fancy footwork and theatrics of the cheer squad. (I offer a silent plea for forgiveness, but she does have her agency). She loved the pom-poms, and everytime San Diego scored a touch down they would shoot off the cannons and fireworks. Since that fanfare was only afforded to the home team, she was a lone San Diego patriot among many devoted Cougars! After the game, which saw not a single droplet of rain, we headed to El Torrito with some good friends for dinner. So my day was an enjoyable one. Probably one of the better birthdays in a long while.

And, upon returning home that evening, I had some warm color in my face . The day had awarded me plenty of time to breathe, eliminating the bluish tint that had started to appear there.

Turkey Trot Times

Yeah, I probably looked like a turkey doing something similar to a trot! But the results are in and I got 8th in my age group. My time was one of my worst, but I finished! Amy did awesome as always. She is such a stud! And while I have been resting she has continued to pound the pavement. . .well the treadmill! But she is the one who should get the praise. Even when no one is looking she is still going strong. Never has been one of my strong points.

After countless miles of running we ran our first official race. The first of several in a series they run here in Yuma. Since that race I haven't run a single day, maybe once or twice, and the next race is tomorrow. I don't know if I will run or not. The gun goes of at 8:30am and I have to be at a Primary Quarterly Activity at 10 am. So it is either go stinky and sweaty, or don't run. I am torn. I guess I will let you know!

Mountains Out of Mole-Hills?

For the last several invidious weeks I have been a drifter in my own home. Never sleeping for more than a couple restless hours upon the same mattress. I start out in Alaina's room, till her tired eyes nod off to sleep. Then to my room, and my profusely pined-for plush pillow-top. My sojourn here only lasts another couple hours, until around 3:30 am Matthew promptly awakens, demanding "Chawbee milk", and my warm and snug spot in bed. I attempt to squeeze onto my king sized bed. . . with only inches left between him and an untimely tumble to the floor below. After a few moments of tenaciously grappling the side of the bed to keep from being punched, pummeled and poked off the edge, I stumble to the guest bedroom to listen to the sprinklers water the back lawn until I doze off, only to greet the sun moments later it seems.

Last night was the last night that I would be branded a vagabond. With a baby on the way, I could not imagine wandering like this for much longer. So I determined to put an end to it. While Alaina still demands at least a token attempt at sleeping with her, Matthew has no say in the matter. After about 40 minutes of angry screaming, he decided he would take my peace offering - a cold cup of strawberry succulence. And then after several weary requests to watch "Cars" (his all time, overly watched, and much beloved favorite movie), I get him to lay back down in bed with Alaina in HER bed, while we watch the artificial fish in his artificial aquarium swim round and round in circles. Almost 2 hours later, and after the type of rolling and flipping and flopping few in this wide world have ever witnessed, he relinquished his relentless hold on conciousness, and fell asleep.

I lay in bed soon thereafter, wondering if I had made a mountain out of a mole-hill. Was it really all that important to kick my cuddling son out of my plenty large bed? Was I going to miss these moments, and regret forcing them into oblivion?
Then I decided to celebrate this mole-hill morphed to mountain. This was a huge step for me, a victory won, a step closer to sanity. So I will glory in my 'mountain'. It is one to find satisfaction in. I think as mothers, what were once accomplishments worthy of Mountain Stature, become virtual mole-hills. What we once celebrated becomes less significant. And the small, seemingly mundane mole-hills become our Mt. Everests.
And while one successful night of not acquiescing to his demand to bunk down in my domain is by no means the end, it is the beginning, the first peak of many. It may be squashed and my once steadfast and immovable mountain may crumble before my eyes. . .I will still raise my arms above my head, and say "I did it!"
So here are to all the mole-hills we have come and will come to celebrate as mountains.

Stomach Churn to Heart Burn

Well, now that I am done throwing up I thought I would return to the keyboard (since there is no longer the looming possiblity that tiny chunks of vomit might find themselves lodged in the keys) and resume my love affair with my beloved blogging.

I lay in bed the other night, and welcomed the all too familiar burn that starts at the base of my throat. . .lingering, slightly pestering, threatening to ignite into a full throddle flame. This means my battle with nausea is coming to an end, a new front has begun. I will take this new attack, with arms wide open, my face to the sky, peals of laughter and relief dancing heaven-ward, with an adieu to the never-ending waves of morning sickness. It seems that while the war is not over, the most wicked of it is done, and I find divine deliverance, or at least a much more manageable malaise.

So here is to feeling better and stomach churn to heart burn!

Preggie Pop Drops?

So, this round the nausea has been more than unbearable. One day my diet consisted of lightly toasted bread and some strawberry jam. Worked for the day. . . but now the thought of crusty bread is enough to induce dry heaving. Another day it was some nice warm banana bread. . . another, just enough water to get me by. But I was getting tired of phone calls interrupted, stories books laid to the side, and meals left unprepared as I made a mad manic dash to the porcelain god demanding the guts out of me as a sacrifice for the life inside.

So I thought I would try the fabled Preggie Pop Drops from our local Motherhood Maternity. Delirium set, I was in heaven, the gnawing, grating grumbling dissipated, and the planet seemed to rotate on a steady axis for a whole 24 glorious hours. The next morning greeted me with sore mouth (seeing as I sucked the whole package in one day), but I could roll out of bed without feeling like I was in the high seas, searching for the bow of the boat to feed the fish their breakfast. However, like most fabled and too-good-to-be-true things of life, the effects have worn off. I must have over-done it the first day and now they aren't working at all. And alas the morning sickness (which is more like all-waking-hours-of-the-day-and-night-sickness) has returned with a pithy punch. Once again, my feeble knees fall in writhing obiesence to the Throne of Nausea.

ANY SUGGESETIONS?

One More

I debated for a while. Couldn't decide if I was ready to share this new thing. But, like with most exciting and good things, I have found it just bursting forth from within me. So here is to one more. One more bout of morning sickness. One more exercise routine mildly altered. One more round of new clothes and indegestion, and leg cramps. One more exhilarating experience of new life growing inside, depending on me to be strong and healthy so it can enter the world with the strength of robust new life. One more chance to share the sacred process of life with the Powers that sustain us from day to day. One more blessed opportunity to contemplate the addition of one more to our family.

I didn't know if I was ready yet. The Lord knew. I didn't know if our family was ready yet. The Lord knew. I didn't know how I would feel. Now I do. Joyful, excited, humbled, greatful, anxious. And all these feelings could no longer be held at bay.

So come June our little family of 4 will be joined by one more.

Happy Birthday Matt!

Matt just had his second birthday! What a milestone! A friend of my mentioned recently that when they turn two a switch turns and they are totally different. My little boy has seemingly grown up over night! It wasn't really that long ago when that dimple in his left was nestled in a much rounder cheek, when that flashy grin sported only fleshy pink gums. And while the twinkle in his bright eyes has always been there, the mischief has only just begun. But with all the raucous a two-year old boy can cause, I'll take it if it means I get that sweet kiss, and that tender hug. The endearing closeness as he presses his forehead up to mine as he sweetly makes his request for Cinderella for the 5th time in one afternoon, or some play time with mommy and the new cars he got for his birthday.

His favorite present were the water guns. Against my better judgment and succumbing to the desire to hear his squeals of rebellious delight, I got him 3 water guns. The rest of the evening was spent dousing both unsuspecting, and suspecting aunts, uncles, and grandparents with the new-fangled weapons of choice. But the highlight of the evening occurred when he realized which victim would bring him the most delight in attacking. CHAINO! After just a few moments of practice squeezing the trigger, he exclaimed "Chaino!" and ran to where Alaina's beloved dog sat unaware beneath an end table. Vigorously squirting him he darted a glance over his shoulder, keeping a wary eye on Alaina. When she realized the peril her pup was in she yelled in sincere distress and surprise, "No, not Chaino!" She ran to his aid and having achieved the response he desired from his sister he moved on to the next target. Chuck and I can only imagine the future predicaments of mock danger Chaino will find himself in at the hands of our Matt! And while this special day was truly ALL about Matthew, I have to boast for just a moment. Because I, the cook/baker incompetent, managed to make a MARVELOUS cake! It turned out soo soo soo good! Wonders never cease it appears! The Dragon Cake was a hit! So good it even made Matt take a couple looks at it before he decided it was safe to approach, and eventually blow on to extinguish the candles. The picture is a little busy, but if you look closely you can even see the wings! I look forward to trying something different next year for Alaina's birthday. And thanks to my cousin Deanne for inspiring me to try my hand at something other than a rectangular pan and a tub of frosting!

For many many many reasons, this will be one of my favorite birthday memories. I love my boy and I hope he has a great year!

I am always surprised at how a good rain washes the world, revealing a fresh, vibrant, new skin. We enjoyed a few good showers and thunderstorms while in Minnesota, and I was greatful for the deep greens, the bright yellows and rich reds that emerged after their much welcomed cleansing. Each rain brought forth new life, almost a daily recurrence. Frogs and grasshoppers emerged from their dark homes beneath the earth to greet us with their songs, and worms wiggled up to the green grass to bask in the warmth of the sun tamed by the cool wetness still blanketing the ground. Life seemed to burst forth, singing, exuberant and joyful. Nature's enthusiasm embraced us as well, beckoning us to join her song, her sense of discovery and wonder. So after most of the storms we headed out to the park. There were several within walking distance, and when I wasn't bent over like a kicked in can helping Alaina peddle a bike, we were able to enjoy those walks. Looking for and picking as many dandelions as possible, jumping left to right along the double wide sidewalks like the green grasshoppers who shared our path. The air was fresh, with a hint of damp in it, and with every deep breath we took to fill our lungs, a wave of contentment and rejuvenating pleasure filled our spirits.

The beauty here is greener, and softer than our desert. The colors and life of the southwest are more intense, warmer and lazier. But the crisp charm of our surroundings are not lost on us. We soak it in, and in the process, like the roots of the tall trees around us dig deeper into the newly moistened soil, the memories and feelings born here take hold deep down inside ourselves.

The best thing about this trip, well there are too many 'best things', but one of them is this: there are always new things to experience, and new ways to experience old things. The other 'best thing' is that our trip, this visit with an old friend, emblazoned in my heart the truth of several things, this being one of them: Life is graced with a cleansing rain with every new day. The colors and intensity and purity of life are given to us anew each morning. And when we smudge it up or clutter it with debris, when we turn to the Lord he will cleanse us again and again and again. Each morning a new dawn, each rain a fresh start. And for that I will be forever grateful!

And We're Off!

So I'm thinking I'm OFF my Rocker for even thinking I am going to be able to pull this off. Flying alone with my two very stir crazy children for three 1/2 hours. But it will be fun after the nightmare of flying is over! Alaina is super-excited; she had so much fun packing her "buffle bag" only to unpack it and put all the contents into a smaller suitcase which she loved zipping and unzipping over and over again. And she is quite the packer! I think I counted at least 4 pairs of shoes fly into the bag, at least a dozen pair of underwear, only 2 pair of socks (I will have to remedy that, who knows, maybe she was planning on wrapping the excess underwear around her feet?), a swimsuit, a dress, 2 pairs of pants, shorts, 4 books, and 4 stuffed animals. She wasn't very happy when I vetoed all the stuffed animals. She insisted that we needed to take some to share with "our friends". I assured her that they would have plenty to play with and that she could only take her favorite one. And we all know that Chaino will be her loyal companion. Later in the evening she wanted to start tossing food in her baggage. Peaches, bread, cereal. "Mom, do they have peaches. Can we pack peaches?" She doesn't even eat the fuzzy fruit! I once again assured her that Emily would have everything we needed, she didn't need to pack the pantry. So cute. . . and so excited.

We are leaving Chuck behind to watch on my brother and sisters while Mom and Dad are soaking up sun and scuba diving in Maui. And HOPEFULLY Chuck will have paperwork to finalize a sale on our house to work on as well. I have decided I absolutely destest the home selling process. Aside from the manic attempts to keep the house absolutely spotless all the time, I hate the yo-yo of emotions and expectations. We have had a couple people fall through on us that we were really sure we shoe-ins. But who knows, maybe this one will really pan out after all. Chuck and I both had the feeling that something would happen while I was gone, but we shall see.

So we ARE off, and it will be an adventure! I can't wait to see Em! Till then. . . . !

What DO My Kids Like To Eat?

So my dear friend Emily called last night in anticipation of our visit to her home in Sartell, MN, wanting to know what my kids like to eat so she can stock her pantry and fridge in our behalf. Aside from the fact that she is the best hostess in the world, the request left me a little speechless. What do I tell her? What do kids like to eat. Of all the dishes and meals what makes the list? Well I will tell her this. . . not much. So it should be easy right?:

Matthew: (in order of meal)

1. Strawberry Milk
2. Strawberry Milk
3. Strawberry Milk. . . .
4. Frosted Flakes (w/strawberry milk. . . No Just Kidding!)
5. Yogurt (prefferably of the strawberry variety)
6. Oatmeal
7. Pizza
8. Turkey Sandwiches (w/ lettuce, tomato, and mayo, on a white bun with sesame seeds - Quiznos Specialty)
9. Cheese and Chicken Quesadillas (with lots of hot salsa)
10. ANY variety of cheesie chips (Dorritos, Cheetos, Sun Chips, etc)
11. Strawberry Milk
12. Strawberry Milk
13. Strawberry Milk
14. Spaghetti with a dab of spicy spaghetti sauce
15. Mac and Cheese (i haven't tried putting salsa in that, be he would prob. like that too)
16. Cranberry Chicken (the ONE recipe I get right every time. . . it is soo yummy. . . look at my Kitchen Katastrophe entry for the recipe in the near future)
16. Barbecue Sauce, sometimes with chicken, but not required!
18. Broccoli
19. Corn (on the cob)
20. Green Beans (Guymon Grown! of course. My mother in law grows beans to die for!)
21. Stuffing
22. Grapes, Cantelope, Strawberries
23. Strawberry Milk
24. Strawberry Milk
25. Strawberry Milk

Alaina:

1. Cold Water with Ice
2. Chocolate Milk
3. Juicy Water (Powerade Option drinks)
4. Soda (yes, report me to Child services. . . I let her drink my diet pepsi!)
5. Tasty Cheerios (HoneyNut Cheerios)
6. Rabbit Poop (Grandpa's grotesque nomenclature for Cocoa Puffs)
7. Tiger Cereal (Frosted Flakes, in the Frosted Flakes bowl with Tony the Tiger's face on the bottom)
8. Pizza
9. Spaghetti (no sauce, unbroken nooodles. . . as long as I can get them)
10. Broccoli Cheese Soup
11. Turkey Sandwiches (Quiznos Specialty Again)
12. Cantelope (she could eat a whole melon herself!)
13. Carrots and Ranch (but carrots are not required)
14. Green salad with Cesar dressing (a regular rabbit. . .there might be a connection to her cereal preferences?)
15. Green Beans (again Guymon Grown)
16. Broccoli
17. Frozen Corn (she gets it from me! One time she asked Nanna in bewilderment if she was going to make the corn hot as she put a bowl of it in the microwave. Silly nanna, you don't eat corn that way!)
18. Cranberry Chicken
19. Hamburgers and Hotdogs. . . only the buns though!
20. Mashed Potatos and Gravy

Maybe I will forward my list to Emily. . .but then again maybe not. . . is that rude? Anywho. . . hopefully over the years my children's taset buds will develop a fuller and more rounded palate. We can pray right?

A Child's Prayer

Thanks to a quick shutter and a little irreverence during family prayer I caught Matt in one of his most endearing poses. Still, quiet, arms folded and eyes shut up tight, eyelids twitching from the sheer effort of it all. He is so funny and so wonderful! At meal time we usually say at least 3 prayers before all the plates are scraped clean and the table is cleared - and at Matt's bequest naturally. Alaina gets a little miffed, as her dinner is interrupted on these occasions, but for the most part she is a good sport. Last night Matt seemed particularly in-tune with the tenor of the table: Alaina and I were passionately discussing the necessity of her finishing the food in her bowl, the tempers were getting a little bit inflated and he stands up on the bench, folding his arms in matter-of-fact manner, and says "pray"! So we did. And after asking for Heavenly Father's help to eat all our food and get along with one another we were able to finish dinner without too much fuss. I am so grateful for my children! They are so wonderful and I could take a lesson or two from them on being in tune with the value and power of the simple act of prayer!

Re-Discovering Rock while on the Roll

So, many thanks to Jenny! I have found the magic of melody and it's motivational merit while treading the tire worn roads during my not-frequent-enough running adventures! But can I tell you , there is something to be said when Honky-Tonk-Badonkadonk can get my badondadonk bustin' itself a little harder! And it is so liberating and empowering to run to something other than the sound of my feet pounding, and my hazardous huffing and piteous puffing. For a good 1/3 of the run I can kind of gasp out the garrulous gimmicks I have downloaded on my i-pod. But then my body begins to fuse with the beat bumping out in my ears and the movement of the music creates an, if not envigorating, then at least a sustaining lilt. So for any of you interested in my playlist. . . and even if you're not. . .. here it is. (Keep in mind this short list is only meant for about 35 minutes of running. I am, and always have been a devout disciple of the warm up/cool down-challenged genre, so these do not include any numbers meant for that purpose. Just right into the run):

Into the Great Wide Open - Tom Petty
All These Things That I've Done - The Killers
Starlight - Muse
Face Down - The Red Jumpsuit Aparatus
King of the Mountain - Midnight Oil
Harder To Breathe (and this is about when it does get harder to breathe) - Maroon 5
No Way Back - Foo Fighters
Rollercoaster - Red Hot Chile Peppers
Check Up On It - Beyonce
I Will Follow - U2

I am also partial to these songs as well:

Under Pressure - David Bowe and Queen
Shut Up and Drive - Rihanna
American Girl - Tom Petty
American Idiot - Green Day
Me Love - Sean Kingston

For someone like me who loves loves loves music, if I get a stinker of a song while I am singing it is a real drag. I zone in on the lyrics, so much so that many a song with a good beat can be "ruined" as my husband says, when I realize what message that beat is trying to get into my head. Don't EVER run to any song from Bloodhound Gang! Don't ever LISTEN to any song from that band. Terrible.

One thing I really like about running to music is that it can really dictate my pace. So much so that I have to watch it. . if I put too many fast songs on my playlist, I inevitably run out of steam. But once I master the mix, the music pushes me and drives me ever forward, slowly increasing my distance and my pace! So thanks again a million times and again to Jenny for the wonderful suggestion. And while I know she can't claim she was the first to ever run with an mp3 player, she was the first to suggest it to me!

Kitchen Katastrophe

I will be the first to admit that my skills in the kitchen, are well, non-existent. And while I do admit skill in other fields, this is definitely my husband's territory. When I do dare to dash a few spices around, I ultimately end up with a more often than not drab dish. Chuck is kind, but always eager to give "suggestions" on how to make it better next time. He is skilled in the constructive criticism department, but after 6 plus years together, I can see through the delicate maneuverings around my fragile ego. I know that, especially as a "mormon momma", I should quit hiding behind my husband's culinary dexterity, and make at least a feeble attempt at improving my cuisine consciousness. I am, therefore, venturing forth into the world of wire whisks, forged cutlery, and recipe cards. Please, if you are not proudly protective of your more desirable delicatessens, send some of your more favorite and family beloved recipes. Perhaps, I will chance upon a few that will not find demise in my kitchen! And seeing as my attempts usually result in slop, keep it simple please!

So here are some of my more recent and favorite snaps. I absolutely love this one of Jake and Alaina. We were enjoying a weekend in La Jolla with Nanna, Grandpa, Uncle Jake and Aunts Kaycie and Haylee. It never ceases to surprise me how gracefully and generously my family has grown into their roles as our family has grown and changed in dynamics and numbers. Jake has been the most fun to watch. I remember when he was born, how he was my favorite little brother. (No injury meant toward Josh). But Jake and I shared a special bond, one that manifested itself on more than one occasion as he would call out for me in the middle of the night- not mom-, when he would search me out for a special hug, and a warming smile. He tries to pretend that those tender tendencies grew out of him, just as he grew out of that cute little round face I remember with such happiness. But he doesn't fool me, and he doesn't fool Alaina. For her Uncle Jake is a protector, and playmate and someone to turn to when she is sad. She often seeks him out as soon as we get to his house, asking where he is and when he will be back. He has grown to be a welcome and loved fixture in her world - a source of fun and love. The big muscles, and the feigned scowl do not intimidate her, for she knows that just below the facade, lies a sweet boy, who has more than enough love and tenderness than he knows what to do with. She will gladly let some of that embrace her as often as he is willing. I am so glad that my children have someone like Jake to look up to, to love, and to be around. Matthew is going to be 2 in just a couple of weeks. I CAN NOT believe it. Everyday I try to pay close attention to the world as it might appear through his eyes. But seeing as his perception of the world probably changes daily, as he grows and changes every day, I can't keep up. He has taught me that no two children are alike. No two children go about things quite the same way. And no matter what, there will always be surprises. And he has reminded me that your sister can be your best friend and your hero. He absolutely adores Alaina. First thing in the morning he is asking for Anawnie (Alaina in Matt-anese). And after patiently waiting as long as he possibly can, he will totter into her room, pull himself up on her bed, and give her a kiss and a snuggle to get her up and out of bed! When she goes to play with a friend, or when she is still napping when he gets up, he faithfully asks for her until I go get her, or she awakens to his persistent plea's for her attention. He tries so hard to be a good boy, but doesn't have to try at all to be mischievous and sometimes downright exasperating. I know the next two years will be chuck full of adventure and mis-haps. And hopefully I will be able to keep up! Now for Alaina. I think she will be the end of me some days, and other's she is my savior! We are so much alike, we can't possibly get along all of the time. If that makes any sense. Both of us passionate, both of us very close to our emotions, both of us all too easily a slave to our temper, but gratefully, just as faithful to a repentant heart. I wish I was a better example of a steady, even keel, balanced, temperant mother, but that is part of the "growing out of the child I am, and into the woman I need to be." She is constantly overwhelming me with her grasp of the world around her. She is so aware and so ready to assimilate and consume the information around her. She knows how to process the things she hears and sees, to make sense of it and incorporate it into the world she is trying to create for herself. She is much better at this than I ever was or hope to be and for that reason she often has covered ground much more quickly than I have. I often find myself trying to keep up with her exquisite and detailed logic. Most times arguing with her is futile. She is much like her father in that regard. I am just too slow, they are ALWAYS at least two steps ahead of me, but more times that not they have already found their way to the next page. Her dad is patient and waits for me to catch up, but Alaina just gets frustrated with me. What was the Lord thinking? I 'll tell you what the Lord was thinking, "This poor helpless woman won't ever make it alone. I better send her a husband who will be patient and children who will pull her along in the right direction." Thankfully the Lord has been watching out for me, and I know my family will get me where I need to be, or at least keep me on the right path. Which brings me to this picture. Sunday was Chuck's birthday, and seeing as he refuses to let me take a picture of him, or at least one where he isn't ducking his head, or turning his body completely away from it, a picture of his presents will have to do. I sometimes find myself resenting his birthday. And before you think I am some kind of un-loving monster, let me explain. See Chuck perceives his birthday in one of two ways, sometimes simultaneously, sometimes separately: 1st, he thinks that this annual celebration of his life, his integral part in the world we have come to love more because he is in it, is really a wicked and tormenting reminder that he is one year closer to dying. Cheery isn't he? And 2nd, birthdays are just unnecessary reminders to the rest of us that he is a part of our lives, resulting in gift giving and mementos that symbolize our love for him. He has an aversion to anyone getting him anything it seems. Silly silly man. So in light of his all too pessimistic attitude regarding September the 2nd, you might be able to understand my wariness of the occasion. And in response I would like to rebut his arguments and attempt to explain to him how absolutely and completely and hopelessly grateful I am for his birthday. Presents or not, old age or not.

See most of us go through much of our early lives desperately trying to prove that we are self-sufficient. We want to prove ourselves capable and masterfully skilled at traversing life on our own. Most of us start out attempting to establish that we are one of a kind and completely independent of any other person. We don't want to be grouped with this or that kind of persona, we don't want to fall into anyone's pre-determined mold. We tenaciously try to carve out our unique mark on the world. And, then for me anyway, I found Chuck. And seemingly overnight I cast all that self-righteous and sadly skewed philosophy to the wind. See, when I met him I decided I wanted more than anything to depend on someone else - him , to climb the hills and descend the valleys with someone else - him. I wanted more than anything to become one with someone else, by giving up all the superficial parts of me. I wanted to be known as his wife and his life. I desperately wanted to be everything he wanted me to be, because I knew he saw me better than I could ever possibly be. And I wanted the mark I made on the world to be one carved out with him. So if I didn't have his birthday to celebrate it would mean that there would be less of me. It would mean that all the good things in my life would not be. But there is a September 2nd to celebrate, and day of gratitude for the beautiful life he has led, the wonderful person he is, and the bright future that lies before us.
I love you Chuck, and Happy Birthday!

Mattatouille

That's our new favorite nick name for Matt. We saw Ratatouille a few weeks ago and the name stuck. I was perusing the masses of pictures I have taken in the recent months and noticed that Matt has been sorely missed in many of the frames my snap happy finger has taken. I feel bad, like maybe I have been neglecting keeping memories of him, preferring to capture Alaina instead. But then as I was looking at the few pictures I do have of him, most of them are blurs of his image as he races past me and the lens. My guilt was assuaged as I realized, he just doesn't hold still long enough! Always too busy getting in to trouble, climbing, jumping, running -- always moving and investigating. Never staying in one place too long. He senses that this world is so full of exciting things, and he has a refreshing desire and determination to experience as much of it as he can.

However, there are a few things that will keep him stationary for more than 2 second increments. He LOVES playing in running water: sink water, hoses, spray bottles, showers, tubs, toilets. Nothing with a steady stream of water flow escapes his little mischevious eye. I often lose track of time (mostly because I have also lost track of my brain somewhere between college and my two kids) and him, until I am brought back to 'real time' by the sound of running water or puddles. Usually at that point it is too late, the kitchen counter is flooded, or the furniture is dripping wet. I like to try and get upset, but I should really be greatful that the puddles and dripping counter tops are the result of his fascination with full blast plumbing features found in the home, and not his own full blast plumbing! Right?

And about the only other thing he will stay put for other then turning everything soggy, is a late night snuggle with Dad and his chawbee milk (strawberry milk) before bed. The two of them recline on the couch in front of ESPN, MadMoney with Kramer or some other testosterone driven media, til he is just about out for the count. Then I get to swoop in for the last few minutes of just-before-nodding-off-to-sleep loves. Which are the best kind! You know, that cuddle that feels like they are one with you again. The kind of hug that reminds you of when your whole body embraced them as they grew inside of you. Soon he will be too big and too busy to give his momma hugs like that anymore. But he will always be my Mattatouille!

Sink or Swim

My little girl has learned to swim! Without bright orange floaties around her arms, or big purple noodles keeping her afloat. She puts her head down, kicks her feet with a fury and has a stroke somewhat reminiscent of a windmill. I know she probably thinks that her mom is a little overly-excited, what with all the exuberant clapping and boisterous congratulations when she has reached me on the other side of the pool after a fearless jump off the side and a determined traverse of the water between us. But I can't help but be proud. At the beginning of the summer she wouldn't even lay down in the bathtub. She slowly gained some confidence and decided that the shallow waters of the spa were safe enough. But she never left the first two steps. Then before either of us knew what was happening she was jumping from side to side after an almost ritualistic chant, "You will catch me? I won't fall? I won't go under?" Then even when I accidently didn't catch her, and her bright red head dipped below the surface for a split second, she came up sputtering, and ready to try again. Sometimes after a day in the pool with some of her older friends and aunts she would venture out into the water, holding onto the life jacket strap, kicking furiously beneath the surface of the water, chin high in the sky, with as large a smile as she could muster without swallowing a draught of water. Then one day, it was head down, feet kicking and arms cutting through the blue that separated her from me. NO looking back, eyes forward, determined, confident and accomplished. I can almost see glinting in her deep blue eyes a challenge to anyone, "Give me what you got? You think you can stop me? I know what I can do. Do you?"

Quite a different reflection than what used to be found there. When she was a bit younger, I remember looking into those now fiery eyes, and thinking I saw a look of hesitation, of question, of the kind of doubt a child has that only dissipates as they realize for themselves that more is within their reach and their ability than they thought. And while most of the time that is what reflects back at me, a little bit has gone away. Bittersweet, but more sweet than bitter.

I know this will be the first of liberating accomplishments she will experience, and definitely not the last. I hope that many more come, unlocking doors of opportunity, self-worth and confidence. And I hope that I will always be there, cheering her on, bonding over those moments of discovery.

Sink or swim? SWIM! For Alaina there is no other option.

Bloody Boots

So sorry for the blood and gore, but ... I just wanted to post this because in a sick and slighly off-center way it made me proud. See these are my running shoes. And yes, that is blood soaking my sock and my shoe. I started running a few months back with a friend...planning to run a dozen or so 5k's starting in November. To be honest, I wondered how long my dedication and enthusiasm would last, how many miles my feet would chomp down before I collapsed on the side of the road, parched, winded and thoroughly beat. Now I have my answer. Four months in and I am still going strong! And apparently even 95 degrees with 60 percent humidity, eye-crust early mornings, and heart-shaped bloody blisters won't keep me from the road.

And yet, even with my war wounds (and this truly is a battle against my lazy butt and the adrenline rush at the end of the run), the real credit goes to my running pal, Amy. She is up, every morning, chipper and prepped to pulverize our running route for the day. She has stuck it out and kept on keepin on, even when we are on vacation. And the amazing thing is, she HATES it. Or at least I am pretty sure it doesn't make her Top 100 Favorite Things to Do. Even when the distance between us on the course increases she keeps moving her feet, and mowin' down the miles. And even though she has taught me a lot of really great life lessons, this is her most recent sermon. Learning to do new things is almost always painful, but almost always worth it. Even if we don't fall in love with it, it makes us richer, deeper, and more complete. And someone is usually watching! In this case, her kids, her husband, and I. (And a few more mis-guided people who think we are insane enough to be actually training for a marathon - and I am not saying people who run marathons are crazy, just we are not ready for that!)

May we all find something new. . . even if it results in bloody boots!

I Got You Babe

So don't get too used to seeing many pics of me on this page. But, I read somewhere once that one of the best things you can do to reinforce and strengthen you marriage is to always have a picture of you as a couple. It is supposed to reaffirm your committment to eachother, something that you can look at and recognize the two of you are actually one. So here is our most recent "couple picture".

We may not be the flashiest pair of yay hoos you ever saw, but we love eachother. I am so so so lucky to have Chuck in my life. Can't believe we have been at it for 6 years already. I asked Chuck about his tenure in our marriage the other day. He replied, "It has all been a blur", with a chuckle in his throat, and that smile-in-the-crease-of-his-eye thing. I said, "A blur of bliss, right?"

But let's not fool anyone. Sometimes it isn't all popcorn and holding hands in a dark theatre. Most times it's quite a bit more mundane. But there have always been the quiet moments, laying in bed at 12:30, willing your body to stay awake cause your heart and soul enjoy the conversation your having. Not only enjoy, but crave and need. Then there are the times when you both feel that something that words can't express, and you wonder if anyone else has felt that way about that thing before, only to see reflected in the other's eyes the same thing you are feeling. Or the shared joy of watching and listening to our kids as they grow, challenging themselves as well as us; giving validation to all the seemingly tedious and trivial work we do in their behalf. And then follows the epiphony, that it isn't really just about us, or even our kids. It is the rememberance that we belong to and play such a huge role on the most Grand Stage, for the Greatest Author ever.

Chuck has always been the steady voice of reason, the gentle touch of kindness, the selfless spirit of love in my life. He truly is my better half. And fortunatley when my half goes on hiatus, his is still steadily and diligently plowing on. Always and forever, always and forever.

Dahl Family Reunion

So here's to families! I couldn't believe how many people showed up! The family reunion was a lot of fun. Good to see so many who we haven't seen in too long. When I think of how much family we have, how many people there are that love us, love me, just because, I can't help but thank Heavenly Father for them. We filled a park! All those people bound together as a wonderful family. It was awesome. Can't wait til the next one.

Our family is great at having fun. Pranks and laughs abound when we get together. I have always secured myself safely on the sidelines, the timid side of me coming out I guess. But looking at these pictures I am realizing that I am most probably missing out on a lot. My family has done a lot though to pull me out of my shell, but I still struggle a bit to join the fray.
But aren't they beautiful. (Alli and Tessa)

Uncle Bruce usually instigates these good natured wars. . . in this case a water war. He is a patient and worthy opponent. Silent yet deadly (in more ways than one, hee... hee!) And is he ever determined. But with all that enthusiasm and dedication to making all those who oppose him suffer, he also has an uncanny way of declaring each scuffle in his favor (even when he has obviously lost). This day Alli fell to his devices. But it was a hot summer day and the cold water was refreshing I am sure, and even if she was a bit soggy, she was definitely a good sport.

During the slower times of the day, which were much appreciated by all I am sure, we sat and visited with family. Since we gathered in such a large number it was easier and natural for little clusters of smaller families to form, sitting on blankets, under the shade of the large leafy trees, napping, snacking, and being goofy. What better way to spend your time?

So can't wait till the next one! Till then. . .keep safe, and don't get too wet!

Chaino

Let me introduce you briefly to the smallest and furriest member of our family. Say hi to Chaino (chay-no). He weighs less than 2 lbs., eats like a mouse, and missess his once wag-happy tail. But despite a startling case of stuffing displacement, he knows his home is right here with us.

Chaino is Alaina's dearest friend. He is found in all the likely places as well as the unlikely ones. But where ever Alaina is, there you will find Chaino, just like a faithful dog should be.

For the most part Chaino is a pleasant and endearing fellow (except for when he is a she. . . which happens on rare occasions), either pleasantly perched in the crook of Alaina's arm, or delicately dangling from my front pocket when Alaina's arms get tired and mine are full. But as you can see, today he was able to steal away a moment for a portrait in front of the temple. We are lucky to have such a good friend of the same faith!

However, just like us two legged's, he faces challenges of his own. And just because he is an inanimate and vocally challenged animal, it does not mean he is without his faults. With Alaina as his mouth piece he will occasionally express his dislike of several of my "outrageous" requests of Alaina. She will let me know frequently and quite forcefully when Chaino dissapproves of things I ask her to do, or expect her to do. "Mom, Chaino doesn't like that. He says I can't do that and you can't tell me to do that." On one particularly defiant day "he" told Alaina that he was mad at Chuck and me and that he was going to kill us. WHOA! So I found myself explaining to my 3 1/2 yr old daughter that if her dog wanted to "be a part of my family" he would need to speak kindly to us, and apologize to Mom and Dad for saying those mean things. He would need to try to help Alaina do what she was supposed to do as well. Whereupon, Alaina looked into my eyes with exasperation replying, "Mom, Chaino isn't a real dog, he doesn't talk!" Way too smart for her age!

But looking at Chaino now, smiling in front of the temple, I recognize that he has improved and tried really hard to be better since then. And isn't that what it is all about? Pushing limits, stretching ourselves, testing the water sometimes, just to see what we are made of , who loves us, and what we can really do. I am glad Chaino is part of our family. And I hope he stays around for a long time.

For the First Time

Seem to be a lot of those lately. . . "for the first time"s. But that is the exciting element of life we call growth and change and challenge. Right? Well this blogging for the first time is a much appreciated easy challenge thus far. My cousins got me interested, and here I am. Hopefully this will be something I stick with rather than lose interest in after a few attempts. Unfortunately I am easily discouraged, and I can forsee that if I don't recieve the anticipated number of readers I might jump ship and try something else. But on the other hand, who cares if anyone looks. Perhaps this may become a means of rejuvenating a long lost talent, that of writing, and jumpstarting a new one. I much prefer this perspective. So here is to blogging, bloggers and bloggees alike!