Timpanogos Cave - Hike #1

I am not a hot weather person at all. I loathe it and generally stay inside in front of the A/C all summer long. I would have made a miserable pioneer. However, as soon as that fall tang hits the air, I want to be outside enjoying it. There are several hikes I have been planning on taking the boys on as soon as the cool weather hit and last friday, we hit the first of the three: Timpanogos Cave. I thought I would ease the boys into the idea of climbing a mountain by promising them a cave at the top. I grew up in Heber Valley in the shadow of the (in my humble opinion) more beautiful side of Timpanogos. While I have hiked both sides, it has been at least 15 years since I made it up to the caves. The last time I went up, we were among some of the few hikers stuck on the trail during a freak micro-burst complete with hail, rain, lightning, falling rocks and tree branches. When we finally got to the bottom, some people were unlucky enough to have tree branches fall on their cars. Poor suckers :-)
This trip was both more fun and less eventful although it was a constant battle to keep kids from wandering off the precipices all the way up (I don't remember so many drop offs. Mak, Dave, EJ, Birdie and Baby Butter joined us.



None of the kids wanted water. They did, however, want to pick all the MnM's out of the trail mix I brought on every break. I became the mean mom/aunt who made them eat the nuts and raisins too (and drink water).




Butter (2 months) rode in the backpack the whole way and was a champ. That's not a bad way to "hike."



We all made it to the top and the boys did a little rock climbing while we waited for the cave tour.




Our guide got an 'A' for perkiness and about a 'B' for sounding like the tour operators on the Storybook Land ride at Disneyland.


Either way, the kids were impressed.


Junior would have made this face in every picture if I had let him. I did let a few slide. In the background is the 'heart' of Timpanogos. We had to request a telling of the legend since the National Park Service doesn't include it as part of the tour anymore since it is "not true." Really? There is no God of Timpanogos who shaped the mountain to look like a sleeping Indian maiden? I would never have guessed!



Despite Junior looking up at the long trail and telling me he was tired before we even left the parking lot, the boys both did surprisingly well for a first hike. No complaints until we were on our way down and their toes hurt from going downhill. They don't know that their reward for doing so well is to do ANOTHER hike as soon as I can arrange to ditch Sis again :-) They will thank me someday, I'm sure!



Then we can hibernate again until next fall!

School for Bubba

Bubba started preschool last week in what ended up being kind of a last minute decision. I was so tempted to keep him home with me for just this last year before he starts Kindergarten next year. In the end, my more practical mommy side and the constant begging on Bubba's part to go to school like Junior ultimately prevailed. The city teamed up with fate and offered a preschool opportunity in which a bus comes and picks Bubba up and drops him off again right in front of our house. I just couldn't resist that. I had no excuses not to. Its free and its door to door bus service. Every day, the bus driver comments on my lack of shoes when I walk Bubba to the bus steps. pfft! Who needs shoes when you are walking seven steps out the front door? I might not put shoes on in winter just to prove a point. Front door service baby!

As day one drew near, it seemed to occur to Bubba that he would be attending school all by himself and it put a little bit of a damper on his initial excitement. He tried playing sick (and has every morning since) and he has tried to bargain. He doesn't get on the bus kicking and screaming by any means, but is very reluctant. I wanted him to be in preschool in the hopes that it would aid my efforts to give him a schedule he can count on. Life feels like a lot of running around these days. I wanted him to bond with other adults who will be consistent in his life. I wanted him to get used to the rules and regulations of a classroom. I wanted him to enjoy it as much as his brother did. We picked out a backpack and an outfit and I took the pictures and told him how proud I was of him. Despite having a son already go through that first day, I wasn't quite prepared for how I would feel when I saw that bus drive away with my baby boy, who had never gone anywhere or done anything without the security of one of his family members. And yes, I got a little weepy (seriously, are you surprised?) It's just so hard not to think of him as my baby boy still. Preschool today, college tomorrow.



You can just about see his embarrassed smile of pride at the completion of his first day and first round trip bus ride. I was a little disappointed, but not really surprised, when he "couldn't remember" one single thing about his day at school. He has been carrying a love note from me in his pocket to school over the last few days to help him be brave when he rides the bus and when he misses me. He leaves me one too. And he wants me to wave at him until the bus turns the corner as well as reassure him every 10 minutes or so beforehand that I will be there to meet him when he gets home. I'm just going to fold up the memory of all that and tuck it away in my pocket for when he is a snarky teenager who makes me drop him off a block away from school so no one sees him with his dorky mom. I'm pretty sure I will still be seeing my baby boy then too.

our day's labor...

On Labor Day, I enlisted my own personal child labor team to help me make jam. This isn't as much of a rip off as it sounds since the job involved both knives (butter knives, but still knives...) and smashing bowls of berries. Junior even stirred the pot while it cooked.


Meanwhile, the mouse ran away with the cheese...




The fruits of our Labor Day labors turned out delicious!

The Last of The Firsts

Made it. The year that felt like a million. A year ago today, I woke up horrified, terrified, hopeless and so much more devastated than I ever dreamed possible after crying for most of the night. I was truly a single mom for the first time.

"Please don't do this to me. To us." I said (heart blatantly on my sleeve and pride firmly in my pocket.) "I know what I should do, but I don't have the desire to take those steps" were J's words right before he walked out our front door for the last time a year ago yesterday. The following days and weeks were a series of moments that I barely remember. The sinking feeling that I would get when he would knock on his own front door when he came to collect the kids. Thinking of things about the kids and current events and life in general that my first impulse was to tell him and remembering with a jolt that he was no longer either my friend or my companion. Doing laundry and finding his clothes and finally getting to the point where I had to box up his stuff from our closet and put it in the basement. I made meals for the kids regularly and with a false cheerfulness, but I felt like a zombie. I took a lot of naps, hid in my house and only sometimes let Britny drag me out to take all the kids to McDonald's playland. I talked on the phone to Bek a lot so she could counteract my constant attacks on myself, my character and my defects as a wife that would make my husband want to leave. I cuddled my little sunshine who had barely turned three months old and I still dared to hope. I dared to hope that he would recognize that he didn't want to be away from his boys and his brand new baby daughter. I hoped that he would realize that the schedule we all had to be under because of him was not the way our family should have to function. I hoped that despite the tangle he had put our relationship in in his mind, that he might remember some of our past the way I did. He might remember his best friend. I hoped that he would miss us or that he would belatedly realize that we and our family were important enough to "take steps" for.

This year has been a long series of 'keeping it together' episodes. I have been weak and the kids have seen me cry before, especially in the early days. I remember vividly the morning that Bubba crawled into my lap, took my face in his hands, peered into my eyes and gravely told me that "my eyes were not sad" (i.e. I wasn't crying for a change.) From then on, I tried harder but I knew the year would be full of pitfalls that I wished I could just sleep through or ignore. The first Christmas alone, his birthday, my birthday, Valentine's day and on and on. Each high or holiday that passed, I was tortured to remember the previous one when our family was together. I also dreaded the coming days that would remind me of my current shattering. Even Bubba's birthday this year reminded me that on that day the previous year, we had attended our sham therapy session in which he told me lots of horrible things, but still not the truth that would have helped us heal. I returned home and tried to discreetly slip past the houseful of (unaware) family members who were with us for the week to lock myself in our room and sob into a pillow for five minutes before I cleaned up and emerged to engineer a birthday party and pretend nothing was wrong.

I have worked hard this year to make every special day still special regardless of how low I felt or how much I wanted to brush it off. I am proud of myself for being able to do that. It was no small thing for me. As of today, I have officially reached my last first. He has been officially gone a year today and after this, I never want to mark this day again. There are a few exceptions (i.e. our Disneyland trip coming up next month) but as a whole, I have done all my first anniversaries of crappy days and my first special days alone. We even got our first dad-less vacation out of the way. There is some relief in that. We kept all of our traditions and even when it wasn't always fun for me, I hope I have laid the ground work in keeping things normal and maybe even fun for this year.

Life is still complicated. Probably more so than at this time last year. I have more to worry about, I have more complex feelings to sift through and I have demons to contend with that I would not have expected to ever have to confront. But this is my last first. I have been through a year of hell and I know that part isn't over (more clearly with every day and every choice we still have to be party to) but I am standing. Sometimes because I am strong and sometimes because I have no choice, but I have no regrets yet about how I have chosen to handle this trial. I am still standing because I am blessed with wonderful family and friends. I am still standing because of your prayers. I am still standing because I can't fall. I am still standing because God loves my family and wants us to make it. My pillow will still see tears but I can do hard things. I have three beams of pure sunshine that count on me and among all the doubts, I know that we are at least pointed in the right direction. I can do anything because I know that.

Compensation

Bubba starts preschool next week. It's all the way across town and as a result, he gets to have a bus pick him up (Junior is really jealous.) Today we went to meet his teacher and see his classroom.

"Dad will be there too!" I told him. He turned an eager face to me and asked "Does that mean Dad is going to come back to live in our house?"

"No babe, remember Dad has his own house now?"

"Yeah" he said and then turned his attention back to the Peter Pan game I had interrupted.

I don't often question my kids unless they bring something up first, but this time I was curious. J moved out a year ago on Saturday and the year he has been gone is 1/4 of Bubba's life.

"Do you remember Dad living in our house, Bubba?"

He thought for a minute and said "Nope"

"You don't remember when he would make breakfast for you guys or when he was here for prayers or when we would ride scooters over at the park or going to Disneyland?"

"No"

Junior has memories of all of us together and I know that Bubba has some because occasionally he will bring something up that I would never have thought he would remember. He had just barely turned three this time last year though and I don't know if those memories will stick around. It also occurred to me the other day that I have very few memories of J interacting with Sis. I know he did because he was always very hands on with the kids and I know he must have loved on her the way he did the boys while he was still home, but those few months before he left were such an intense fog of misery that I don't remember many details from that time other than keeping it together. I know he is still hands on with all the kids when he has them, but it still makes me sad to be missing it. I loved cooking dinner and hearing the squealing and wrestling from the living room. I loved seeing the mad rush to the door when he came home from work. I loved sharing those certain looks of pride or love or exasperation that parents only give to regarding their beloved children. I know he loves them. I just miss seeing it and being a part of it. I love being a mother, but J still remains the person I wish I could talk to about the kids without the conversation being loaded. I had hoped that even with the dissolution of our marital relationship, I wouldn't be left emotionally alone to parent when all was said and done. No one will ever love my kids like their mom and dad and it is lonely to be eclipsed from the one person I want to share them with. He doesn't need me as their mom and I am no longer allowed to need him as their father.

"It's not fair" says the little voice that always pops into my head, sometimes in a scream, sometimes in a whisper, but always there and always something I fight these days. J and I used to joke about my overdeveloped sense of fairness. Realistically, I know that life isn't fair. Ask the people who are getting gunned down by militants in Africa, or the millions who died in concentration camps during WWII. Ask any of the other wives like me who have been left to mother alone. Ask any of those who would love to be married and have a family and haven't yet had the opportunity and may not. We live in a world where terrible things are allowed to happen, but the perspective of my faith is that we are also granted the opportunity to grow from our challenges. But sometimes, when you look around you at everyone living the life you want and sometimes taking it for granted or knowing what you are missing, that little "it's just not fair" voice is a hard one to silence. It is often strengthened by remembering that the one who I thought had my back, stabbed me in it in the end.

This year I have learned that faith is multi-faceted. I have never in my life had a doubt that the church is true. I have never doubted the Joseph Smith story. Simply believing has always come fairly easily to me and I don't really know why but was grateful for it. I just believe. The angle of faith that I am having a much harder time with is the idea that although God doesn't always make things fair, he compensates. He heals, He changes hearts and minds if you are obedient. He compensates. I have heard it a hundred times from a dozen people in the last year, I have read it in the General Authorities talks and I still struggle to believe it. Many days, I go through my routine of cooking and cleaning and work and laundry and putting the kids to bed. I fight the loneliness and try not to recognize that this might be it. I may be doing all this on my own for many years, if not the rest of my life. I am still young and so are my children, and I wouldn't rule out the possibility of dating or remarriage, but I also spend a lot of time wondering if I even want to bring someone else into this little life of ours. I hate the idea of my kids feeling divided or like they are loved less by a step-parent. I don't know if I could handle seeing anyone else discipline them. Many people assume that my age means I will easily find someone and marry again. But it is just not that easy and most definitely not on the radar for awhile yet, if ever. Unfortunately, not being ready to move on in that arena doesn't mean it's not still lonely or that I am ok with being on my own. I know what I am missing. I just don't think it can ever be replicated and it is not a step I will take if I don't feel like it is the best one for my kids.

So, I am having a mid-life crisis of faith after all. I still believe, I just struggle to believe that things will work for me on a personal level and that I won't always be in this mire. I want to really believe that as long as I am making the best decisions for me and my kids and being obedient, I can be blessed with peace no matter where I am at or what I am doing. I see tender mercies everywhere that remind me that I am watched over but even those who saw angels learned to doubt and I am by no means a paragon of strength. Time and obedience will be the true test of this personal crisis, but I want to believe that I can come back this time next year or in five years or ten and be able to say that I know without a doubt that He compensates. He heals. This time last year, I asked J to put this method to the test for the sake of our family and he couldn't get his mind around the idea and took his own road. I am slowly realizing how difficult making the choice to believe in something can be and then to follow up. I don't want to be a hypocrite. I fully believed it would work for him and I want to believe it will work for me. It's a start, right?

I promise I wont bring this up in the next Fast and Testimony Meeting

After Sis's recent tumble down the stairs, I decided to get down to business on teaching her to turn around and scoot down on her belly. I am sure her last fall down the stairs isn't behind her, but she is kind of a champ now. She has also learned how to push aside the gate leading up the stairs (I can't get it attached to the wall, so I have been propping and securing it with a chair. It worked for about three minutes and once Sis figures something out once...) Now she can escape up there anytime she wants. I actually kind of like it. When I'm getting ready for the day, she joins me in the bathroom and brushes her hair and pats her face when I put my make-up on and then gives kisses to herself in the mirror (again, mimicking me :-) As long as we keep the bathroom doors shut, she is safe roaming around up there (unless we don't remember to lean extra hard on my bathroom door to make it catch. She has already figured out that pushing really hard on it sometimes yields results. It's like having a raccoon in the house.)

I baby proof my house. I swear it! I vacuum, I get down on eye level with the floor and check corners and keep change jars and knick-knacks up high. Among my scariest experiences are the times when my kids are eating and they start to choke (and I have been to a haunted house where a crazy guy swung what felt like a real chainsaw at our legs.) Bubba needed to be rescued weekly just from his lunch and it is not something you ever get used to.

So, why, why, why does Sis keep wandering out with things in her mouth? And when I hold out my hand she always spits out a coin of some kind. She is like a mobile ATM and I have no clue where her stash is. Believe me, I've looked (because if she is finding money somewhere secret, I think I should be in on that pot of gold.) I suppose there are worse things than a child who regurgitates money. On top of that, for the last few days there has been a quarter in the bowl of all three toilets in the house. ??? The culprit could be any of my kids at this point. Or...



Am I finding money in random places because I paid my tithing this month? Makes you think doesn't it?




(You all know I am totally joking, right?)

!

Bye Summer... (*sniff)

The tradition in my family while I was growing up was that we could pick whatever we wanted to eat on the first day of school. With seven kids in the family, I recall choosing more uncommon luxuries like pop-tarts, steak and vanilla yogurt (my order for several years in a row). In fact, I think most of us would set off for the first morning of school with a big steak meal in our bellies. I was excited to start that tradition with Junior last year. Anything goes on the first day of school (not just breakfast choices) but for all that, Junior still picked waffles with berry syrup, bacon and strawberry milk. He did shake things up a little with dippin' dots ice cream (pretty much his same choices as last year). He clearly doesn't realize what a golden ticket he has here. By the time he does, I may be regretting starting this tradition up. If I recall, my dad was always up well before us grilling steaks and assembling multiple random breakfasts that first day.

This is the 'secret passageway' to his school. He is excited when we take it (come on!! A secret passageway??!! :-) and I am excited it makes a 15 minute walk into a 5 minute one. It is faster to walk him to school than it would be to put the kids in the car and drive him.


Junior has been begging since last year to ride his bike to school himself, and although I have relaxed quite a bit on his hanging out outside on his own since moving, I haven't gone that far yet. We compromised by him riding his bike, followed by me and the little ones and then meeting him at the front doors after school to walk him home.



I remember first grade very well. It was the scene of my first crush, losing my first tooth, my first playground friend drama, my first feeling of independence and the first time I remember learning something new and the euphoria of knowing I could read and do math. I hope it's a good year for Junior. I know it will feel like no time at all before my bright eyed little guy, who is dying to ride his bike to school alone, will be graduating and heading off into the world.


Sis really wanted to join all the kids on the playground.

We tried to make the most of the last few weeks of summer and probably did more in the time since we moved here than we did at the old place where I was able to be much lazier and much more of a hermit. Being here has been good for getting me "out." In the old house, I couldn't get the kids to set foot outside for more than ten minutes at a time unless we went to the park. In this house, the hard part is getting them to come back inside. Junior is setting records for being on wheels more than his own two feet (yes Junior, 6:30 a.m. IS too early for you to go ride your bike. Go back to bed) and Bubba just follows him and the neighborhood gang around alternately on his scooter and his bike. Sis very badly wants to be one of the big kids and follows anyone who will let her. She adores the neighbor girls who come over and want to tend and play with her.

What else have we been up to?


First pony rides with Grandpa's help


Feeding the goats (Sis did NOT want to give up her corn.)



Helping me unpack and "rearrange"


Washing the car (kind of)




Re-designating my anniversary as "kid day." All day long, the kids called the shots on what we did and what we ate (yes becky, I stole the idea from you guys :-) Mostly they chose to play at Jungle Jim's (a cooler, less crowded version of Chuck E. Cheese). The Bradshaws joined us. We have missed them!! Afterward, we went to Target and shopped in the dollar section and picked out a backpack for Junior (a very close race between Mario Bros. and Space Monkeys. Mario won.) For dinner, we had chicken nuggets, pudding and pop rocks.



Second pony ride :-)


Falling out of bed pretty much every night and being tired enough to not even notice. If I heard him fall, I put him back. If not, he came to climb in with me eventually.

Also on the list; crawdad fishing with grandpa and cousins at Strawberry Reservoir (no pix, I didn't go on this one!) Dave Matthews Band outdoor concert with friends (for me, not the kids! Thanks again Phread.) Hours of playing on the front porch and avoiding unpacking the rest of the house. Teaching Sis to dance and to give kisses and say our names. Trying to figure out what to make with all the vegetables my generous neighbor's bountiful garden keeps producing for us (almost salsa season!) School shopping date with Junior and a bi-annual all-nighter with the old roomies. These cooler mornings are getting me very excited for my favorite season. I expect to enjoy it a lot more this year. However, at the moment, I might also be too tired to notice if I have fallen out of bed either.

Happy first week of school to everyone!