The Lights

Yesterday evening was spent with the Providence 3rd Ward Young Men and Young Women. Usually I am a little peeved when Mutual activities are planned for the weekend. But this one presented us with a very good opportunity to spend time with Daddy and support him in his calling.

We borrowed Grandma Granges new Yukon, packed it with warm blankets, the bike buggie/stroller, a few Priests and a bag of Rollos. The making for a good time! We all feasted at Chuck'O Rama in Salt Lake. Not the classiest place in town, but fun for all, and they have the biggest rolls in the state. I had a salad and two rolls and went away a happy woman. Ok, there was also a little frozen yogurt there at the end. (I am having the hardest time resisting sweets. Sheesh! My will power is giving way time and time again this December. O'well. That is why we go to the beach during Christmas vacation. No one is there, so there are not many to judge you in your bathing suit! Now, as we speak. DJ and I are cooking up a Pappa Murpheys' Cinnamon Wheel. Let me tell you. . . .Mmmmm! The girls are in bed, so it is just we two to share it. Can't make promises for DJ, but I vow not to eat it all.)

After the feed at Golden Corral we circled Temple Square trying to find a parking spot. Ha! No luck. We paid $6.00 to park in the lot just to the West of the Conference Center. (I add this tidbit of information for my future posterity who will wonder at the thought of there being just a parking lot there, and perhaps at paying $6.00 to park for two hours.) The lights, like always, were truly amazing. I see them almost every year, and never cease to be impressed. That, and the grounds have such a wonderful vibe! You know what I am talking about. It is undeniable. Clearly the Lords' spirit is ever present.

I just love the Salt Lake Temple. Can one not, I ask? It is magnificent! I always try to picture the saints who built it, their faith, and their dedication. 40 years. That blows my mind. It was a sweet evening. Here are a few photos.

I Love Bedtime!

I did no less than 9 loads of laundry today. Sort, wash, dry, fold, put away. I have 2 more to go. I wish that I was joking.

Before I could even begin this morning I had to clear a path through the laundry room. There were wet socks, muddy boats, hats, gloves, sippy cups . . . I could go on. I will spare you. I am sure you have seen what can happen to a back hall when there are little ones, and big ones playing in the snow, working, and just plane tromping in and out of the dirty garage. It was clean last week. Then the snow began. It is lovely though, the snow I mean. Jeff and Dad got to make tracks on the Beav on opening day, and DJ and Tali made this great ornament for the front yard. We sledded and stomped and had snowball fights! The girls have had a real riot. And DJ even got in a few rescue missions on the night of the blizzard.

So, no real complaints about the state of the laundry room, I am just making mention of the fact that I could barely locate the washer and dryer amongst the carnage. To add to the fun of my day, DJ and Talia were violently ill last night. Really, it was coming form both ends. I was up a good portion on the night, cleaning sick and other unmentionables. (Some day I will tell you about the 'gamble farts'. I can barely bring myself to say the words, but they are appropriately named.) I also made a rather unwise decision to begin watching Troy on TBS. It was about 4 hours long, and I had to see the end of course! I can sure do 12:00 pm, it is the following 7:00 am that makes me regret late night TV movies.

Needless to say, I look forward to bedtime this evening. I am shooting for 9:30. The girls are already nicely tucked into their clean sheets as I speak. We had a sweet little family night this evening and then said prayers in the light of the Christmas tree. Daddy read the little ladies stories while I hung up little duds. All are feeling better. Miracle!

In closing, here are a few shots from our Christmas tree selecting evening last week. And one of Talia with the official Family Night conductors microphone. It is the top of our paper towel holder. HA! So much fun!

The Big One!

First of all I have to say "Thank You!" to my brother Alex (Ike as he shall hereafter be called) for getting me into this. . . . . He is terribly convincing. In a "it's not that big of deal" kind of way. I am truly glad that I took on the challenge. Burned into my memory, is this rare day that I can call upon when I need strength.

Now let me take you back to September 18, 2010. The Top of Utah Marathon. 26.2 The big one!

Before any light had kissed the sky we were up and spandexed, laced and hydrating. I was nervous, I think Kira will admit to the same. Ike and Brandon are old pros, in fact we could barely keep Brandon in his seat, he was so giddy! We boarded the bus and got split up, much to my joy because I met Scott. I am pretty sure it was Scott. He is from San Diego. Never ran a step in his life until one fall he visited his daughter at school, and spent an hour or so at the finish line of the great Boston Marathon. He was mesmerized by the faces of the finishers and the emotion in the crowd. He wondered, "What drives people to do this?" Scott decided that he had to find out for himself, and so he did. The T.O.U was to be his second marathon. He was very encouraging, and I felt like I had made a friend.

The picture above is of our little group waiting to use the porta-potties. No joke, there were 300 of them and we still waited a good half hour! But we made friends in line too, and stretched, and talked strategy. Mine and Kira's strategy was to take it slow and steady, like a freight train. Don't push it at the start. Listen to the body. Have a good time! The starting line was something to behold. Thousands of nuts out there in the cold, just waiting to run. It felt like insanity.

The canyon portion of the run was gorgeous. The leaves had just begun to turn colors and to me it looked like a shout of encouragement from on high. "Go Sarah, Go!" Kira and I kept up a constant positive flow of conversation. "We can do this. We are powerful. Go legs!" And we talked with others along the way as well. I have to say this . . . I love runners. Grumpy people do not run. Whenever I participate in a race my faith is restored in humanity. There are so many good people out there, doing good things for their bodies, meeting challenges and being cheerful about it. It is very refreshing.

I'll spare you the play by play and skip to the 'wall'. Mile 17. Just before Maverick on the highway, headed North to Providence. I can tell you I was starting to second guess my strengths. This really is a stupid thing to do. My legs felt like lead! Everything ached, even my face.

I believe one of our many tender mercies of the day was coming upon a certain woman named Karen. Probably about mile 6. She is from Riverton, marathon. . . like 5. She had the most incredible story. This lady was the real deal. I wish so much we had been able to find her at the finish and get her email address and a picture together. We labored through many miles together and she taught Kira and I a lot about life, and hard work and faith. Oh! And about how to survive a marathon.

It was at mile 14 that we called her husband, (yes, she ran with her phone so that she could update him on her whereabouts) and he made a dash to Maceys to get us some chocolate Goo. Goo is new to me, and it went down thick and sticky. But I'll tell you what, 3 miles down the road, I was so happy to swallow it and pray for some kind of running miracle. Because the gears were about to bind. Slowing at the drink stations was painful, but starting up the pace again was even more so. I am crediting my girls, Kira, Karen, and Jenna (who joined us at mile 15.5 ish) for cheering me through this difficult stretch.

About mile 19, which was conveniently packed with an enthusiastic cheering section and DJ on my bike with the girls in the buggie, I got my head on again. The 19th mile marker was right behind our house here in Providence. From there on it felt like the wind was in the sails. I flagged a first aid biker man at 20 and scored some Ibuprofen for my knees which also improved the outlook on the remaining 6 miles.

It is exciting to recall the end of the race. There were people all around and lots of music and cheering. Some kind of incredible force was compelling us onward. We had energy! We had spirit! (And no, I don't think it was the Goo. But I know it helped.) We were passing people right and left. We logged our very fastest mile times from 23 on. (By "us" now I mean me, Kira and Jenn, Ike and Brandon had long since finished and been to Arbys' for a burger. They met we girls at the corner of 3rd South and Main, paper bags in tow. It was a happy moment when we recognized Ikes' "I just finished a marathon" type limp.)

We ran so hard the final mile! It really was amazing, even as we lived it. We kept looking at one another with joy. "We're doing it!" Jenn peeled out of the road about 26 and Kira and I ran at a full-on sprint to the finish. I am emotional remembering the feeling of it. It was incredible, and powerful. I felt like no hard thing I ever will face can stop me. Nothing is too hard to be done!

Perhaps another mercy of the day was that Kira and I remained upright upon stopping. 26.2 miles with only a few stops to chug some water and peel a banana! We had smiles on our faces. All limbs were in working order. Honesty I was a little shocked at how great I felt. I had had several waking dreams in the weeks prior to the race of me dragging my body across the finish line, cursing Alex and all the other running crazies, vowing to never take another step!

But it was not so. I wasn't even all that sore. Thanks in part to a long hot bath that afternoon and much stretching, and some Tylenol. I even went to a neighborhood dinner and then to a Derby that night. Stud Woman! I moved a little bit slower than normal in my heels the next day at church, but more from a sense of caution than real pain. I can't believe I am actually saying these words, but. . . I want to do it again!

I shall end with a song of Thanks; To my Heavenly Father first, for this incredible body of mine, for life, for feeling, for family, for courage, for joy. To Kira and Jenna, for being the best darned running partners ever, for getting me out of bed all those mornings and making me feel like a champ! To DJ, for loving me and believing in me, for babysitting and cheering, for not being a runner so that I can beat him at this one thing!

Goodbye Til' Spring

This is my little chickie Roo in the stands at a derby this summer. This afternoon she helped me plant the tulips out front. We put 75 in the ground. I hope they ALL come up! I know I am a little late getting them in. I have no idea what zone Northern Utah is in. The box was on the top shelf of the laundry room closet. Why? I cannot recall putting them there.

We mixed miracle grow soil into our stubborn clay and made a nice bed for the bulbs. Ruby was in heaven digging in the dirt. Muddy fingers have never bothered her. She monopolized the shovel! Sharing was not going to happen. While covering the bulbs Ruby waved a chubby hand, "Buh-bye till spring!" I said. "Sleep tight." After all the bark was replaced she looked at me with meaning, finger to her lips, "Ssssh." (They are sleeping Momma.) It was adorable. I wish we could have put them all around the house, just to see the goodbye wave.

I can't walk around in my undies anymore. And the little girls wear footed fleece jammies to bed. We turned the fire on and had hot chocolate first thing this morning. It's official. Winter is at the door. It has been a glorious Fall, I cherish Fall. It is so refreshing, and brief. I think that is why I like it so much, because of it's fleeting loveliness. And pumpkins, I crave all things pumpkin, from the Jack-O-Lantern to the pie. I do enjoy a white winter, but it tends to drag here in Cache Valley. Long about March I am ready for relief. Unless I am skiing in March. There is nothing like a good Ski!

My grandmother Carole Rhodes had a sign that hung in her family room, it read; "It's the best time of year!" She believed it too. Every season was a happy time, always there was an occasion for a party. And decorating. I hope to emulate that trait of hers, to enjoy each season for it's wonders and find occasions to give thanks. So bring it on Winter, I am ready.

P.S. I chose the above picture of Ruby to give me courage for the cold white days ahead. I am just now hearing the weather man on Fox saying to expect snow on the valley floors by Monday.

"Zerberts"

I really have no idea where our family came upon this term. A "zerbert" in our family is the act of blowing a slobbery raspberry on someones' bare flesh. Both Ruby and Talia excel at it. Oh! We have had some laughs with this game. Usually the best are early in the morning when we are all crowded into bed together, enjoying a snuggle, Roo will up and blow a huge one on my arm. Then the game is on!

Roo decided that she wanted her shirt off this afternoon. Maybe because she loves to sit by the fire and feel the warm on her back. But for whatever reason, she was topless and Talia was chasing her around trying to get a good zerbert on her belly. They held still long enough for this encounter:

How I love them! Even when they are being goofusses'. Talia had preschool this morning. She looked like the very 'sauce' with her pink sweater, side ponytail and my page boy hat. It was hat day today. . . "The letter is H, the sound is Ha!" She comes home repeating the cutest things. Her preschool teacher, Mrs. Rigby is a genius. Tali retains so much of what they learn in class. Speaking of which, she learned this little song last week and has been singing it whenever we sit down to eat.

We recorded this to send to Aunt Jenna at BYU, for a little good morning salute! So there are a few little extras in there for her. Love you Jenn!

I have Webelos coming over at 4:00, I have prepared little. So, I am going to get on that soon. Then I am going to roast some potatoes to have with dinner. We will be enjoying the pork that has been in the crock pot all day. MY FAVORITE!

In Defense of My Right Brainedness

I have just been reading through previous posts and I noticed this about myself; I write better when I am unconcerned about perfection. When I allow ideas to flow freely and uninterrupted I am much more true to myself. Last night I spent so much time editing and correcting and worrying about whether or not this was the right way to say that . . . . It all turned to mush.

So I am turning over a new leaf, and apologizing in advance for past and future grammatical and spelling errors. I am afraid I write the same way that I think, abstractly, creatively, and in pieces here and there. The object of this blog was for me to create a record of my happy life, I cannot obsess about correctness. I haven't the time.

This is not to say that I do not try. I always edit. I have an eye for good layout. (And here I must mention that the layout I create is not always the one that appears on my blog. I have spent much time with the edit button, only to find that when posted, the corrections aren't made. Mostly issues with spacing, which makes me crazy. Sorry about that! Know that I am fully aware. I am going to have a friend come over and give me some blog advice. Maybe I am missing something?) There is a perfectionist in me that likes each post to look well balanced and tidy. However, few things in life are well balanced, or tidy. So go with it, will you?

The War

One of the greatest blessings of this life is that each day is a blank canvas, it is what we choose to make it.

I had a weird Sunday. There was an excellent talk in Sacrament meeting about gratitude, Ruby went to nursery willingly, baked potatos for lunch, lots of family and friends to visit, a good nap, all the sweet things the Sabbath brings. And yet, after the girls were in bed I sulked on the couch and felt bad for myself. I was frustrated and bored. I worried about a number of things. All my current failures were staring me in the face. I felt picked on! I really was upset about something I can't quiet name, I went to bed in tears. Honestly, cried myself to sleep. It has been a very long time since I felt so poorly as to cry in front of DJ. (I would not consider this weird if I were pregnant, times like I just described are part of the game of baby making. But I am not pregnant, I assure you.)

This morning I awoke with a feeling that I had to make it right. A vague goal. But it was effective. Recently I heard a friend say that when she is facing a challenge she asks, "What would my best self do?" So, I was my best self. I wasn't perfect. No. Not close. But I think I did well, despite yelling at Talia for laughing like a maniac, she does this when she wants attention, and procrastinating several tasks that need doing in order to furniture hunt on KSL. But it was a very happy day at my house. I felt the spirit in my heart, and I hope it radiated to my children.

I am just now getting this bit of inspiration about last night. Satan wants very much to break me. He would like nothing more than for me to fail. To feel poorly about myself. To be angry about my life. To wish for more than I have. To regret my decisions. He knows my potential, more so than I, I am sure, and wants me to fall short. If the devil can get me to feel and think those things, then I will fail. I can't image the consequences of that. There are so many!

We women are powerful beings. We have the power to shape and cultivate little lives, and in so doing, change the world. No wonder Satan wants so much for us to feel insecure. To feel anger and selfishness and doubt our worth. We have to defend ourselves from his fiery darts! We have to seek our Heavenly Father in prayer and plead for strength and courage. The war is real and the sides are clearly drawn!

I hope you feel where I am coming from with this little rant! I don't know why I feel the need to share it just now. Usually I keep these less than flattering moments to myself. But I know I have received a revelation regarding myself. By putting it in writing I will remember it, and my convictions upon understanding it. I pray that I will have the spirit to fight the feelings of discouragement that the devil will surely send my way again. Bad days will come around, but I will do my darnedest not to sit on the sofa and stew about them!

Beautiful Things

Today was full of beautiful things. I had the carpets cleaned bright and early. Beautiful, like new. Then I got all dressed up and went to the BATC Design Board luncheon at Hamiltons' and had a Chicken Philly sandwich. Beautiful, grilled red peppers. Talked design with friends in the biz. Beautiful, people who get me. Then I took myself shopping for sweaters. Beautiful, cream turtleneck for $9.99 and my first sweater dress. Picked up my babies from their grandma Granges. Grocery shopped, and then had a Kit Kat Bar. Beautiful, need I tell you why?

This evening after dinner and my Key Scouters meeting, I have been paying bills online, (not so beautiful, but convenient and easy) and doing the very last of my shopping for Helens' room. I am on the hunt for a velvet quilt for her bed. Oh! They are beautiful. I shall have one some day I think.

The world is full of beauty because we have the ability to create. New foods, new works of art, new textiles, new friendships, new places and even new people. (See Talia's pic above.) I came upon this abstract work by Karen Silve and it really speaks to me, makes me happy. She created this art with only the talent in her hands, given by The Father, oil and canvas.

We are all so alike, we children of God. All so very unique at the same time. Different things are beautiful to each of us, and I hope that you take a moment to think about the beauties in your life, and then create some more.

Domestic Bliss

This morning I made Cinnamon toast for breakfast. Just like my Daddy always does; lots of butter, Cinnamon sugar, and a minute under the broiler. Oh! Happy childhood memories. After the girls were dressed and groomed I plopped them in front of Dora the Explorer and worked on this little number:

My neighbor, and friend Carly, of College Ward had her long awaited baby girl on Tuesday. This is a nursing apron, for those who may not be familiar with the thing. Complete with coordinating fabric rosettes for hair or bag or jacket lapel. I don't claim to be a master seamstress, but I sure do a bang up job on these aprons!

Next we visited "Geega" in Wellsville to pick up a sweet little table that I bought from the classifieds on KSL. Mom and Dad Norr obliged to bring it home for me from Pleasant Grove, they were headed that way anyhow on account of the fantastic turkey availible in Moroni. (They are hosting Thanksgiving again this year at their house. Yea!) It will be the perfect addition to Helen Morris's room after a little sanding and paint.

Grandma, the girls and I did lunch at Cafe Rio. (Our VERY favorite!) And then went shopping at Dress Barn. I was on the hunt for some more work attire. I have the honor of sitting on the design board for BATC. It involves a very fun afternoon twice a year, having lunch with the valley's best designers, and discussing the issues at the school and what we feel the students might benefit from.

I bought a new wool hat! Both girls were shot after the shopping spree, and had 3 alarm melt downs in the car on account of there being only one teddy available to love. Talia was all in a collapse on account of being marched back into the store to return a card she took. She was balling all the way in, "Don't put me in Jail Mommy, I am not a mean person!" I don't know where she got that idea, I have never threatened her with jail time? I remained very calm and did not scold her at all. Only explained that we needed to do the honest thing and bring it back. She was sobbing, but said "I'm sorry!" to the sales lady, and then buried her face in my neck.

Whew! Home to naps, and laundry and another load of dishes. Clothes to fold and hang. Vacuuming and dusting and finally fixing that ring on my drapes that has been making me crazy for months. I whipped up some home made whole wheat bread tonight. Thanks to my neighbor, Sister Beykirk for the bread making class and introducing me to the best bread ever! Mmm! Lots of butter and honey along with the turkey steaks and pasta salad tonight.

The little ladies ran around in their undies this evening. Playing house with the pillows and chasing one another with the little pink squirt bottle that I use when I iron. Here is Roo standing on a chair to play her computer game. Clutching "Oofie," her new love. Which love does not surpass her attachment to "pinkalicious," her blanket. When she is tired she wants her blanket on my shoulder and her head on the blanket, Oofie under her arm. Binkie in. She is such a delicious little naked thing. Skin so soft and sweet. I have to kiss on her all the time. And that hair, when it is clean, is the most wonderful thing to smell.

We brushed teeth, said prayers, and now the girls are dreaming in their little beds. DJ is watching the news, intermingled with a little Discovery Channel. I need to join him. And put some snugglin' on him.

It's been a day of domestic bliss.

Lunch at the "Tank"

For many weeks the Daddy has been working on a huge project on the hill in Nibley. A 2 million gallon water tank has "huge" qualifications, even in the Grange family. We girls are very pleased with the project, not only because our DJ is completely capable of heading such a feat, but also that he is near by and we can do lunch with him often.

Today, after preschool, the girls and I went to McDonald's and ordered 2 Happy Meals with apple dippers, a McRib extra large, and a Southwest Salad. We took the fair to the "tank" site to have some Daddy time.

The girls love this. Especially me. It's hard to have a husband that works like a mule! Please don't mistake my remark for ingratitude. I am in awe of the way that he cares for us. So unselfishly. He is determined to do whatever it takes. And it takes a lot, physically and mentally in his line of work. There are always trailers to load and tires to repair and calls to make, schedules to coordinate, and plans to review, and a whole pile of difficult people to work with, injuries, cold, mud, filth. . . . I could go on! And when you are the boss, you carry a continuous weight on your shoulders. He handles it so well. Rarely are his feathers ruffled. And when they are he forgives, solves the problem, or works like crazy to make it right. Words are inadequate to express my love for him, and my constant gratitude. He awfully good looking too, I hit the husband Jackpot!

A Mommy Poem

I came upon this gem of a poem while looking for the words to "Wynkyn, Blynkyn and Nod" this afternoon. (Which I would like to memorize and recite to my children at night. To break up the story routine. We are also giving the children's song book some time.) I believe it was one of the Lord's tender mercies, and just what I needed to hear. I have read it many times today, and laughed and cried each time.

Pittypat and Tippytoe

by Eugene Field (1850-1895)

All day long they come and go---

Pittypat and Tippytoe;

Footprints up and down the hall,

Playthings scattered on the floor,

Finger-marks along the wall,

Tell-tale smudges on the door---

By these presents you shall know

Pittypat and Tippytoe.

How they riot at their play!

And a dozen times a day

In they troop, demanding bread---

Only buttered bread will do,

And the butter must be spread

Inches thick with sugar too!

And I never can say

"No, Pittypat and Tippytoe!"

Sometimes there are griefs to soothe,

Sometimes ruffled brows to smooth;

For (I much regret to say)Tippytoe and Pittypat

Sometimes interrupt their play

With an internecine spat;

Fie, for shame! to quarrel so---

Pittypat and Tippytoe!

Oh the thousand worrying things

Every day recurrent brings!

Hands to scrub and hair to brush,

Search for playthings gone amiss,

Many a wee complaint to hush,

Many a little bump to kiss;

Life seems one vain, fleeting show

To Pittypat and Tippytoe!

And when day is at an end,

There are little duds to mend;

Little frocks are strangely torn,

Little shoes great holes reveal,

Little hose, but one day worn,

Rudely yawn at toe and heel!

Who but you could work such woe,

Pittypat and Tippytoe?

But when comes this thought to me:

"Some there are that childless be,"

Stealing to their little beds,

With a love I cannot speak,

Tenderly I stroke their heads---

Fondly kiss each velvet cheek.

God help those who do not know

A Pittypat or Tippytoe!

On the floor and down the hall,

Rudely smutched upon the wall,

There are proofs in every kind

Of the havoc they have wrought,

And upon my heart you 'd find

Just such trade-marks, if you sought;

Oh, how glad I am 't is so,

Pittypat and Tippytoe!

In which I make no excuses

Today is a day for a fresh start. Not a day to list the reasons that I didn't accomplish my goal. And there are many, but they don't matter. What matters is that we try again.

To many days have already been lost to the universe. And someday they will fade from memory because they were not recorded. They were good days, fun days, hard and stressful days. Days full of design fabulousness. And I really do wish that they were all here, preserved. But forward and onward I must go.

One of my journaling faults is that I tend to backtrack, and touch on all the little events that have occurred since the previous writing. All of a sudden I have a large list of "Then we did this" and "That was so fun" like phrases and nothing really real. Nothing meaty and telling. I am not saying that blogging will help me over this tendency, I only hope to improve upon my recording of feelings and impressions. More of testimony and humor and 'in the moment' emotions. That is what will let my spirit be known. Those are the things that will give a glimpse of the real me to my children, my children's children. Even to myself.

So . . . Saturday Mom and I went to the American Mothers Association Conference. It was so inspiring to see so many strong women together. Many different ages and abilities and stations. But with the same desire; to be better mothers. I felt quite proud to be amongst the club members, and humbled at the very same time. What an important task we have. We shape the future, mold little lives. Nothing is more powerful than that!

Sister Lant, former General Primary President was the key note speaker. Here are a few points that stuck with me. I wrote them just like this in my planner:

• When we really love people, we treat them with respect. (Even little people!)
• Be present for your children, in body and spirit.
• Be your child's "Safe Place."
• Find joy in the doing.

The theme for the day was "Aprons, Ties that Bind." I have this crazy urge to make an apron for every woman I know. I wonder what I can whip up on my own, with no pattern? There were so many darling designs there. I was oogling! Everyone had an apron on. I made one for Ruby today from some scraps. It's too big. But sweet none the less. She wouldn't let me put it on her. I chased her around the kitchen, she was squealing and hollering at me. So I put it on Tali. She is always game for dress up. Too game, most of the time.

Today the "T-ster" had to go to a wedding, so she put on my best grey wrap sweater, and pink heels. The barbies got dressed too. Then she decided to go out and play in the snow, and needed a change of wardrobe, complete with scarf and hat and mittens. She and Ruby pushed strollers around the house with babies wrapped in blankets. Cute little stinks. Their ears and hand were pink and damp before they gave up the game. (Then we had another wardrobe change. Into leggings and a t-shirt.) We started the fire, and watched "Word Girl" on PBS. Good times.

"Wubles" and one sock

Ah! So it's day two of my one month goal and I am already down a post. It's super late, but I didn't want to be 0 for 2. And I got a delicious nap this afternoon. So I am still bright eyed.

Saturday was packed full of adventure, and friends and fun. Kira and I started off the morning with an 18 miler! Yehaa! I was beat. And sore. I won't lie. But I also felt powerful. I think we might run the whole darn thing.

After naps (for all the girls) we played outside. This cute video says it all. Roo loves her
"Wubles" and she was having a ball running around the patio chasing them. She just shrieks when she is having fun. All morning she only had one sock on. I couldn't find the other anywhere. But there was fun to be had together and so I let it go. We never did find it. When I changed her into her jammies Saturday evening I pulled off the one sock and tossed it in the basket. O'well!

Talia is such a beauty. Even with recycled braids and scratches on her face. (From little sis!) She has been being such a good girl. I love her! Sometimes I am hard on her, and expect her to be bigger than she is. It's a complicated thing. Like, because she is the big sister she aught not to spill her milk or leave her shoes in the hallway. But Ruby does those things, and I don't holler at her. (I try not to holler at all, but sometimes it happens.) I have to remember that my Tali is just 4. Big and smart and clever. But still 4. And she can't read my mind, she doesn't think like I do, and she isn't perfect. She's my little love. My first child. And I love her more than life.

I have had the impression the last few months that I need to make sure that she knows I think she is just as interesting as her baby sister, and that just because I expect her to eat her breakfast and help make her bed that I am not being mean to her. It's hard to teach responsibility and respect to a child. They need to see it practiced over and over in order to emulate it. (And that there friends is the tough part.) I want Talia to be my best friend. I want her to know that Mommy will always want her. And will always think that she is beautiful. No matter how big she gets.

I have to try each day to make my actions reflect my feelings for my kids. I don't ever want them to think that they are not as important to me as, say, having a clean kitchen, getting to a meeting, or making it to the bank before it closes. All of which are things for which I have put them in front of the TV, or said to them, "we'll read it later" or, "move!"

But it's a challenge. Mom has to be the teacher of all things. Cleanliness, self respect, motivation and responsibility. We cannot always play with our toys, and eat in the kitchen, and dirty our socks and leave them to be as they are while we merrily sing. We must merrily sing as we wash the dishes and pick up blocks and sort the whites. It's hard to find the balance between fun time and work time. I am glad however that I am able to be home with my children to work on this great challenge. Even when I am wiped out at night and want to cry, I am glad that it is me that gets to step over their toys and books and kiss them goodnight.

Macaroni and a Run

Last night Kira and I ran 7 miles in good form. A big loop around Nibley. The weather was cool and crisp, it rained all morning. Perfect for a run! Saturday we are going for 13. We are taking on the Top of Utah Marathon in just one week. Are we nuts? Insane? Maybe. But we are also super siked to take on this hardest of all hard things. Ike talked us into it. He can be very persuasive.

I am being honest when I say that "Run a Marathon" has NEVER been on my to do list. Even my want to do list. I love to run, but seriously, 26.2! However, here are the reasons that I am going to go for it this year, all in a compact bulleted list:

• I am in the best shape that I have ever been. (Well maybe since dive and cheer in HS!)
• I am healthy and strong and not carrying or nursing a child.
• If not now. when? If not now, maybe never!
• I have new shoes. And their hot!
• Kira and I are in it together, we are a great team.
• I can do hard things.
• I don't know where my life will go, or what challenges lie ahead for me. The opportunity has been placed before me at this time, if I choose not to take it, then it may not come again. Or come again as easily. I want to live for the day, take every chance I get, and just RUN FOR IT!

So after a week of cram training sessions, Kira and I are optimistic. We are going to give it our all. But not do anything unwise. Our goal is to run the 17 miles of the canyon. Walk a few, stretch and chill for a few miles. Then run the last 5-6 to the finish line. Sweet huh?

I will no doubt submit a lengthy post about the race. I look forward to that. Oh! I am so excited. (I think I will stay excited until we are riding the bus up the canyon and I realize how ridiculous it is to run that far. Who thought this was a good idea?)

Pictured above is the sinfully good Macaroni and Cheese that I made for lunch today. Thank you Martha Stewart Living. I have no guilt what-so-ever for eating a large serving. I'll run it off in the morning.

Go Team Norr!

My Archives

This week I did a little blog research. I checked out so many awesome blogs. People are so COOL! I was blown away by all of the sweet stuff there is out there to read. There is a mom in Provo who writes hilarious posts. She is a dear. I feel like we are friends. She gets like 12,ooo hits a day!

I am totally intimidated. There are bloggers out there who have been at it for years. They have fans, and advertising, and archives for Pete's sake! Big ones.

This morning as I was making my bed I looked at my little brown leather journal sitting atop the dresser. It looked lonely. Dejected. A little hurt. I have been a faithful journal writer for most of my life. I love to get lost in the entries and remember who I am. So much of me is recorded there. I am torn at this moment. I don't want to replace my journal. But I can record so much more information here, and it only takes a minute. Pictures and all. When I sit down with my journal I often don't get up for an hour. Or more. My handwriting is one of my more favorite talents. It's pretty. (When I have time for a soapbox rant I will let you know about how handwriting is becoming a lost art, and I would love to save it.) But the truth is this, I have a busy life, 2 kids, a kitchen and 3 bathrooms, laundry and floors. I have mouths to feed and bottoms to wipe. Books to read and lessons to be taught. Fights to break up and hugs to give. I have new running shoes that need breaking in, and a garden and lots of dirt around my house begging for planting. (That sounded a lot like a blessings list too, didn't it?)

I don't want to give up journal writing, but lately I have been putting it off, and then off again to do something else. All summer these wonderful things would happen to my family and I would think, I must write about this!" But then I wouldn't. Keeping records is important. I feel in my heart that it is something that I need to do. I am going to give this kind of record a shot, and see how it goes. Maybe my archive will be small, but it is something that I want to try.

I don't want this blog to be a public sensation. I don't want everyone to know what I am up to. (Or not up to for that matter!) This is my little spot in cyberspace to put my thoughts into words, words that make memories. Memories that make a life. A happy life that needs recording.

So I have a goal. One month of posts. Every day! Starting today. Wish me luck.

Lucky Girl

Early this spring DJ and I were involved in planning a big stake youth conference. When the day finally came I was sitting on the stage and watching the youth mingle around getting to know one another, chatting. Some looked happy to be there, others looking to bolt at the first opportunity.

I looked at them all closely. I wanted them to know how great of a day it was. I wanted them to know what wonderful things were in store for them if they would only open their hearts and listen. I wanted to tell them all how very blessed they were at that very moment. To be members of the one true church. To have so many people around that cared for them. That prayed for them, that wanted happiness for them. To have good friends that they could share their lives with. To feel the Spirit, to learn. To know their Father in Heaven, the very God of the Universe!

"Do they even get it?" I pondered. Do they know how very lucky they are? How rare, how unique, how loved? (I will admit that I selfishly hoped at least a few of them would wake up and take notice of how freaking awesome the conference was. And that it didn't just poof into existence for them. I hoped for a little gratitude.)

The 2 days of the conference really were wonderful. Full of noise and energy and learning. Late Saturday evening on the short drive home the Spirit whispered to me, "Do you know how lucky you are?" I nearly had to stop the car when it occurred to me that all of the things I had been thinking about that the youth were so blessed to be a part of, I was a part of as well. I am lucky too. All of the Lords most precious blessings are mine! Do I take the time to notice them? Do I soak them in? Do I appreciate where they come from? Am I thankful to the one in charge?

I wanted to create this blog so that I have a place to notice my life. To reflect on my blessings. To appreciate the little things. To express my gratitude. I want this blog to be about the good, and the bad, the crazy and the messy. The going and the doing and the sitting and the snuggling. I want to ponder each day about the things I am doing. About the joy my life is full of. I don't want it to pass by without consideration. I don't want to be ungrateful. And most of all I don't want to forget.

I don't want to forget how much my Ruby loves her shoes, or how sweet it looks when Talia writes her name. I want to remember what DJ and I talk about before bed, and how handsome he is, and how he always smells like form oil and dirt. I want to remember my answered prayers, and my struggles and trials, my triumphs!

So come along for the ride if you like. Friends and family, posterity. I want you to know how lucky I am!