i wonder

"Books do for children what they do for adults:
they inform, they stimulate, delight, amuse, and transport us all into other worlds 
of thought and experience.  Most importantly, they make us think and feel and respond, 
and they can put us in intimate touch with the best that has been known
 and thought since the first words were written down.  
Good books make us more aware of others and lead us 
forward into a surer knowledge of ourselves."

Andrew Clements

As of late, my favorite part of the day is around 8:30-9pm when the little girls call me into Liza's room after they are all ready for bed.  I find the lights off, lamp on, and my "reading pillow" propped against the wall with the book Wonder lying on the floor just waiting or the next few pages to be read aloud.  No matter what has happened during the day - if I wasn't at my most patient or loving, if the girls engaged in warfare, or if they just have been to busy to even notice one another . . . these few minutes together make it once again feel like everything is all right in the world (and our family) once again.

We have always had a tradition of reading books aloud, but it usually happens very
s l o w l y . . . life gets in the way, evenings get busy, mom has more pressing duties after the kids are in bed, etc., etc.  For example, about this time last year we decided to read Dicken's A Christmas Carol because it was Christmas and it's one of the greatest classic tales every written, and hey, it's great exposure to Dickens.  Ya, well, we finished just before Easter.

That's usually how we roll, but this time it's been different.  The girls beg each night for just "one more chapter" and we're cruising through this tender book that I would recommend to every child and parent.  Wonder is a treasure and I delight that my girls look forward to our time reading.  I wouldn't want to spend my evenings doing anything else.

life, purpose, and a prayer

It's been so long since I've written anything remotely meaningful, and as I was taking a few minutes this evening to scan the blog, I realized how many events, memories, and small moments that have been forgotten, but thankfully are immortalized on this little digital memory keeper.  Unfortunately, the past year my personal journal writing and the blog have both suffered greatly.  As much as I tell myself I will be better, can't promise anything, but for tonight, the urge to write without an attempt to catch up on family events, post pictures, inspirational quotes, or humorous anecdotes is strong and I should follow the simple nudge to write a few musings . . .

Friday evening Ryan received word that he had been accepted to BYU and called us immediately to share the news.  After celebrating on the phone, Chris looked at me and said, "well, it's really happening now, we've done our job and he's prepared - nice work."  Ryan is still waiting to hear back from three other schools before making a final decision and I'm making every effort to make these last 6 months at home as meaningful as possible.  There will truly be an emptiness in our home when Ryan leaves.  I'll have to devote an entire post to "the things I'll miss the most when Ryan is gone," but for now, I'm cherishing our time together, especially our late night chats when we have a few minutes to connect after everyone else is in bed.

Life is transitory.  Everything is in motion, shifting, changing.  Little Elizabeth is literally transforming before my eyes, each day shedding her little girl appearance and gradually morphing into an almost pre-teen.  Sigh.

The other night, around midnight after another snow storm had left it's mark with another foot of snow, I stepped outside for a short walk.  It's been awhile since I made my way into that unique peaceful silence, reserved especially for nights like this.  Although it's been a long winter, with no end of the cold, snow, and dreary days in sight; breathing that sharp, clean air into my lungs and listening to the soft crunch of snow under my boots while looking up at the brilliant, clear winter sky was transformative.  Instead of complaining about this winter (for about 10 minutes ;), I was grateful for a moment in time when everything seemed perfect, yet transitory.  Realizing that the next day, if I were to step outside at the same time, I could not recreate that moment.  It wouldn't be the same. The snow would have time to settle, the air would be a different temperature, my boots wouldn't make fresh tracks, and the delicate ice crystals floating in the black sky would be nonexistent, and therefore, the rush of gratitude and happiness most likely would not take place.

Why do I muse about such moments in time?  I suppose it's because while I was out connecting with winter and appreciating a small gift, my mind drifted to the constant shifting and changing within our own lives.  Living a purposeful life requires adjustment to these changes without clinging to a version of how things used to be, or worse, an unrealistic expectation of how we think life should be now or in the future.  I guess that's why embracing the transitory nature of all things, especially relationships, is essential.  It's complex, but we change, the people around us change, and realizing the great potential in each transition is truly beautiful.

So, my life is in a flux of transition right now.  Ryan's preparing to spread his wings and leave the nest, Caroline is anxiously awaiting her 16th birthday and drivers license, Sophie will be turning 12 soon and entering the young women's program, and Liza Lou is bound and determined at almost nine to be the most independent of them all.  I am adjusting to the needs and demands of my little flock daily, and realize that without prayer, I am not as compassionate, patient, or adaptable.  It's that simple.  Prayer keeps me strong, helps me gain insights and wisdom I know I couldn't glean on my own, and gives me the quiet assurance that everything will work out, it always does.

parents' day

I love poetry, and after reading this one yesterday, I had to share.  It's lovely.

Parents' Day
by Sharon Olds

I breathed shallow as I looked for her
in the crowd of oncoming parents, I strained
forward, like a greyhound held back on a leash,
then I raced toward her. I remember her being
much bigger than I, her smile of the highest

wattage, a little stiff, sparkling
with consciousness of her prettiness—I
pitied the other girls for having mothers
who looked like mothers, who did not blush.
Sometimes she would have braids around her head like a
goddess or an advertisement for California raisins—
I worshipped her cleanliness, her transfixing
irises, sometimes I thought she could
sense a few genes of hers
dotted here and there in my body
like bits of undissolved sugar
in a recipe that did not quite work out.
For years, when I thought of her, I thought
of the long souring of her life, but on Parents' Day
my heart would bang and my lungs swell so I could
feel the tucks and puckers of embroidered
smocking on my chest press into my ribs,
my washboard front vibrate like scraped
tin to see that woman arriving
and to know she was mine

42 life lessons for my daughters

I'm not sure if my oldest daughter actually enjoys conversing about her life with me, but I'm happy when she opens up and discusses her day to day happenings.  We have had some truly special conversations, especially since she hit the confusion and angst of Jr. High, and I am grateful for bond we share.  Now that she's entered high school I've been ruminating about some of the conversations we've shared over the past few years . . . these "life lessons" I'm trying to instill in her and her sisters.  So here goes, my list of things I want my girls to remember as they navigate adolescence and the future:

• Be kind.  It's more important to be kind than to be right.
• If you want to become great at something, work at it and put in the hours.
• Look people in the eye when you speak to them.
• Find a passion, do the things you love.
• "Don't allow your happiness to depend on something you may lose." (C.S. Lewis)
• Treat your family the same way you treat your friends.
• Education is one of the greatest investments you can make.  Work hard in school. Make your studies a priority.  Go to college.
• Never let a boy come between you and your best friend.  Keep your friendships strong.
• Listen to your heart.
• Don't worry about what other people think.  EVER.  "Be who you are and say what you will, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind." (Dr. Seuss).
• Forgive.  Be the first to say "I'm sorry."
• Develop compassion.  
• Take walks.  Go on a hike.  Let the beauty of the earth refresh and invigorate you.
• Have faith that things will work out.
• Open your heart to others.  Be the first to say "hello," the first to offer a compliment, and the first to say "I love/miss you."
• Don't follow the crowd.
• Be strong.  Your strength will astound you.
• Never lose the desire to read a good book.  Never stop learning.
• Jr. High girls are fickle.  Jr. High boys are clueless.  Everyone grows up by senior year (almost everyone ;).
• Be careful with your language.  Never use words such as "suck, loser, piss, or fart" when speaking or writing . . . it's uncouth and not ladylike.
• Drink plenty of water.  Stay away from soda. 
• Listen to your dad . . . he'll offer some of the best advice you'll ever receive.
• If you're feeling insecure or doubting yourself, reach out to someone who needs a lift more than you.
• Keep a journal.  Writing when you are happy/sad/frustrated/elated/angry is wonderful therapy.
• Be trustworthy.  Be someone who can keep confidences.
• Wake up each morning with a grateful heart.  Practice gratitude.
• Be confident.  Let it shine through your smile and demeanor.
• Allow your mom into your life.  Believe it or not, she's been there.  Let her be your friend.
• Never lose your childlike wonder.
• Laugh.  Be happy.  Find joy.
• Build your testimony.  Study and pray . . . find out for yourself.
• Never stop asking questions.
• Don't trust everyone.  Be selective with those with whom you share your deepest thoughts and life experiences.
• Stay grounded and avoid drama.
• Learn how to bake.
• Everyone deserves a second chance.
• Stay close to your sisters and brother.
• Don't gossip.  Lift others, don't bring them down.
• Practice self control.
• Mistakes happen.  Wipe the slate clean and start again.
• Always look for the good.
• "People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." (Maya Angelou)

9.10.12

Alrighty then, since I'm back to blogging, I feel this pull to write and write and write.  I was going to post this yesterday, but didn't want to send all five of my readers into cardiac arrest ;).  With all my "the kids will be gone before we know it" laments, I guess it's about time I become more vigilant and capture our daily lives.  In a perfect world, I think I would try and blog every day, but let's not let things get out of control here.  However, with the thousands of pictures I've managed to take during 2012, I'm thinking if I could just post a little something every few days I would feel on top of it.

Here it is, a few moments from yesterday:

Monday's begin with a long walk or hike with Lucy, and yesterday my friend Dorothy and her dog joined us in Neff's Canyon.  It was gorgeous and overcast and the scent of fresh rain was intoxicating.  So far so good.  My hikes invigorate me for the day ahead and I'm actually enjoying coming home to a quiet house and getting a few things accomplished without interruptions . . . I baked some pumpkin bread, attempted to organize the giant mess of a basement, and listened to quite a bit of my audiobook ("Wolf Hall" by Hilary Mantel - intriguing).

At 3pm, I leave to pick up the girls (dumped the carpool this year and do all my own driving - a little bit of a hassle, but I sure do enjoy having extra chat time with them before and after school). Monday's are the best because we have no scheduled activities or lessons and the girls can take their time finishing homework and practicing piano.  It's a very relaxing day . . . so far.

Caroline comes home from tennis team practice, Ryan's busy with homework, Chris arrives and the guys settle in for football.  We fix a casual dinner and Caroline bakes cookies to answer the boy who asked her to homecoming.  It's sprinkling a little outside, the clouds have moved in, and everything feels snug and cozy.

Liza and Sophie go outside to play in the rain and enjoy some outside time.  Sophie doesn't realize that with the windows open we have full access to the rude, snide remarks she makes to her sister.  It doesn't take too long before we call the girl in for an explanation.  This is how the conversation goes:

Me: Sophie, come here now.  What did you just say to your sister?

Sophie:  I didn't say anything.

Me:  Yes you did, I heard you.  I'm not happy that you're being so mean.  You're finished for the night - go upstairs and get ready for bed.

Sophie:  (beginning to fume) - Well, it wasn't THAT mean . . .  I didn't make her cry.

Me:  Oh, that's nice.  Get upstairs, you're done. (Chris steps in to second the motion - sternly).

This is usually the time when Sophie completely loses it, and she did.  She screams and continues to argue at the top of her lungs that she wasn't "that mean" and we're horrible people, then proceeds to stomp up the stairs and slam her door (it's the routine).  The family is so used to her meltdowns that they have become quite comical, however, we worry that there may not be an end to her lack of emotional control when she is frustrated/angry/sad, etc.

Many years ago, to help her release her emotions, I would have her write down how she was feeling. Now she does it out of habit (and as a way to get back at us). Caroline found it quite humorous to find these three notes floating down from upstairs landing into the entry . . .

I know we shouldn't laugh, but Chris, Ryan and I were trying to stifle our giggles while reading these notes (absolutely under any circumstance do you let Sophie know you're laughing). Caroline was horrified and thought Sophie was just plain cruel (in Caroline's mind, she would NEVER do such a thing), but I just had to remind her of one of our family's mottos: "Words said in anger are never from the heart" and she understood and chuckled along with the rest of us. I'm used to the notes - I think I have several of the "you're the worst mom EVER" genre tucked away in my nightstand.

My heart really does ache for my girl and I think she may always struggle with keeping those passionate emotions of hers in check.  After 11 years with this sweetheart, I've realized that she is extremely tender and protects herself by putting forth a rough exterior at times.  She has definitely been our most difficult child and many of my prayers focus on how I can raise her to fulfill her greatest potential.  I look forward to what the Lord has in store for this feisty little one . . .

More than any of the other kids, she needs her space and thrives in peaceful settings - she's my best hiker.

After the meltdown, the skies opened up just as the sun was setting and the sky literally lit up - it was on fire - one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen.  We grabbed the girls (even Sophie was allowed out of her room) and walked outside to watch.  Sophie hesitantly sidled up to me as I walked to the corner and slipped her hand in mine . . . her signal to see if I was still upset, and my signal that she is ready for a hug.

Sigh.  All is well until the ticking time bomb decides to explode again.  Until then, I'll look for all the best my little girl has to offer.

The sunset from Caroline's bedroom window.  WOW.

Of course, the night ended on a high note:

Caroline on her way to answer her best friend Jacob after he asked her to Homecoming.

She made cookies and baked letters (Y-E-S) wrapped in tin foil inside three of them - cute!

transistion

Ah, the beginning of the new school year, the cooler evening temperatures, and the brilliant fall colors signify one thing - change.  I don't particularly care for change.  I know, it's inevitable and now that we're a couple weeks into school, and I'm not the basket case I was back then, I can finally write about these changes.

The first day of school, I couldn't even come home - spent the entire day out and about so I wouldn't have to face an empty house.  Enjoyed a morning hike with Lucy to one of my favorite spots (pic at left - Dog Lake / Millcreek Canyon), and then babysat my nephew for a few hours.

The panic and tears didn't begin until the next day when the quiet of the house and the realization that we only have a year with Ryan before he's off to college, hit home and hit hard.

I should have known it was coming . . . throughout the summer when I would least expect it, BAM, the tears would start, and before I knew it I couldn't stop.  Something as simple as a song would usually begin the deluge (Jason Mraz's "93 Million Miles" does it every time, and just last week it was U2's "Walk On").  After closer reflection, it's not the fact that school as started again and the house is empty and I'm missing the energy and chaos of the kids, which is all true.  But it's that this season, the transition from summer into fall, and the myriads of changes that are taking place signify something much grander than going back to school.  It's the passage of time. I am mourning the passing of another year my kids have grown and matured, and another year closer to them leaving home.

My planets

Chris sent me this beautifully written article last week with the tag "this reminded me of you and what you're going through right now."  Of course, we're only beginning the college application process with Ryan, but reading this woman's experience was so familiar and her feelings so closely mirrored my own, that I will cherish her essay for many years to come.  The author's metaphor that as mothers we are the "sun" to our "planet" children, and as we raise them they orbit around us and we are always there, shining down on them, keeping them safe, and watching over them.  Then a child leaves his/her orbit, and of course they are still part of our lives, but more like a "shooting star," coming and going, never staying too long, and it will never be the same.

Change.  Transition.  So another year has passed and I should truly celebrate rather that try to hold on to the past.  I've turned to reading Zen philosophy this past week to remind myself to enjoy the present with the awareness that change is always taking place and nothing is permanent, nothing.  And that's the beauty of life.

The Zen proverb, "Let go or be dragged" speaks volumes about letting go of permanence and allowing change into our lives.  I have to let go of my children and some point, but I'm going to be present for them now and really listen and open my heart to them while they are in my orbit.  Letting go of attachments and not fighting change is central to Zen awareness and it's so difficult for me, but I'm getting better.  I'm learning that anything we hold onto only drags us away from truly feeling at peace. As hard as it is to let go of children, of resentment, the need to be right, expectations, and even past friendships that were once crucial to my happiness, holding on will never lead to the peace and serenity necessary to enjoy the present.

Enough of Zen, but I have to say it's really helped (along with yoga, reading "Gilead" yet again, and hiking a few times each week).  Friday morning after I dropped the girls off at school, the sun was rising in the east over the Olympus mountain range and Simon & Garfunkle's Bridge Over Troubled Water was playing (gotta say that the "Essential S& G" is definitely the best music for life's transitions). As my car filled with brilliant September light, I knew everything would be alright. Life will continue to march forward and I'll keep moving along, trying to stay with the beat without looking back and getting trampled in the process.

read to me

Today after the second session of conference I was so wound up I needed to a. get outside for some fresh air and a walk, and b. do something productive.  Four hours of sitting on a couch watching conference just about does me in.  Don't get me wrong, I love conference, but I do much better if I can listen and be active at the same time . . . should have thought ahead and planned a project for today :-).

Before our walk, I noticed the girls' book shelves were in dire need of some organization, so I began pulling out books that they had outgrown and made a pile to give to the kids when they start their families, and a pile to save for our eventual grandchildren.  Suddenly, I was awash in tender memories as I felt the spine of each familiar, worn title from their childhood.  Books have always played an important role in our lives and I was surprised how many of these treasures tugged at my heart as I reminisced the hours spent cuddling with each child on the rocking chair or snuggling in bed reading a favorite bedtime story.

Although Ryan and Caroline are now reading Shakespeare and classic American novels for English class, and our bedtime stories have evolved from "time for bed little mouse, little mouse" to giggling together under the covers as I read Anne's latest antic, I hope the memories of those sweet stories will forever be etched in their hearts as they patiently wait to be passed on to the next generation.

Ryan, Caroline, Sophie, and Elizabeth's favorite childhood bedtime stories:

Beautifully illustrated poetry beloved by all ages . . .

There was a young lady of Niger

Who smiled as she rode on a Tiger;

They came back from the ride

With the lady inside,

And a smile on the face of the Tiger.

The GREATEST book of alphabet poems in print - love!

Ahhh, such a sweet book of poetry 

(and I'm a sucker with anything illustrated by Jane Dyer) . . .

Read to me riddles

and read to me rhymes,

read to me stories of magical times.

Read to me tales

about castles and kings,

read to me stories

of fabulous things.

Read to me pirates,

and read to me knights,

read to me dragons

and dragon-back flights.

Read to me spaceships

and cowboys and then

when you are finished--

please read them again!

Looking for the perfect collection of Fairy Tales?  This is it.  

Our book is falling apart and we've read it cover to cover many times over.  

Every classic fairy tale is in contained in this book, along with fantastic illustrations.

Chris Van Allsburg.  Need I say more?  

Ryan's favorite story (along with Where the Wild Things Are).

A sweet story of the simple life and passing our love of family and nature on to our children, 

as we teach one another about "all the places to love."  Gorgeous illustrations.

I gave this to Ryan when Caroline was born . . . sniff, sniff.

This is Sophie's favorite story.
Such a sweet tale of a little bat trying to find her place in the world.

Liza's favorite story.  The other day I walked into her room just as she had finished reading it yet again, and she exclaimed, "not easy being a bunny?? pssshh, it's not easy being a PERSON!"

The title says it all . . . we love them, "no matter what."

Who doesn't love NO DAVID!  Caroline loved this book and Chris would read it to her night after night when she was a little toddler.

My mom gave this to me the day I brought Ryan home from the hospital.  It will always have a special place in my heart - it's been read hundreds of times to all the kids.

Said the mother horse to her child,

I love you as much as a warm summer breeze . . .

Said the mother bear to her child,

I love you as much as the forest has trees.

Classic.  My kids love this story just as much as I did.

Another classic . . . sends my little girls into hysterics each time we read it, 

especially if you can do the monkey sounds just right :-).

I love you to the moon and back.

And the all time Cantera favorite bedtime story . . .

It doesn't seem that long ago that both Chris and I read this 

sweet, simple poem to each child night after night as they pointed out each picture:

Goodnight room
Goodnight moon
Good night cow jumping over the moon
Goodnight light
And the red balloon
Goodnight bears
Goodnight chairs
Goodnight kittens
And goodnight mittens
Goodnight clocks
And goodnight socks
Goodnight little house
And goodnight mouse
Goodnight comb
And goodnight brush
Goodnight nobody
Goodnight mush
And goodnight to the old lady
whispering "hush"
Goodnight stars
Goodnight air
Goodnight noises everywhere.

part of the job

I'm talking about sacrificing the one thing I crave, love, adore, and NEED more than practically anything (even more than food), for the sake of my teenager's happiness and well being.

SLEEP.  Yes, I'll sacrifice my time, energy, attention, dessert . . . whatever the kids need at any time of day.  But sleep??  The days of giving up those precious hours of shut eye were over the minute my babies could make it through the night.  Well, forget about it tonight.  Caroline and crew didn't have a ride home from their long anticipated midnight premiere and guess who pitched in to drive them home at 2:30am?  You got it.

So, I figured if I'm going to be up I might as well have some fun myself and grab a ticket to attend my first ever midnight movie since college . . . that is if I can stay awake until the credits roll.

Let the games begin!

mom.of.the.year

Friday morning I found myself wide awake at 5:30am - RARITY - so, after reading for a bit I decided to begin my "mother of the year" day by making homemade Belgian waffles because we did indeed have whipped cream and fresh fruit on hand just waiting to be slathered on top of a yummy waffle.

I did a quick search on pinterest and found a recipe that looked like it fit the bill (i.e. all the ingredients existed in my kitchen).  They were SO easy to whip together, really, it had me wonder why I keep a Costco size "Krusteaz" mix in the pantry, and they were SOOOO good (I had to add a bunch of extra "os" so you get the point).  I'm not sure if my addition of flax seed made any difference to nutritional value, but they were melt-in-your-mouth delicious.

Yes, my day had started out stellar (I think Ryan is still recovering from the shock of seeing me donning an apron offering him a plate of "waffles from scratch" at 6:30am), and it continued to just skyrocket from there . . . I was pleasant and patient, I folded Ryan's laundry (he always takes care of his own, so I thought I'd help out), took Caroline and friends where they needed to be, played "jello" in the car with the girls and their giggly friends, made sure everyone was happy, and even ended the day reading a chapter from The Swiss Family Robinson, to the girls.  Plus, it was a beautiful, bright, blue sunshine day and we were just as happy as clams.

Well, that was fleeting.

By Sunday afternoon my mothering skills had descended to cave woman status when Liza tore up the stairs and into her room while screaming at the top of her lungs before slamming the door that I was the "WORST MOM EVER!!"  Sigh.  This happened after I gave up struggling with her obstinance while trying to help her with piano and told her to just leave the bench.  I admit I wasn't at my best this weekend.  However, it all ended well when Caroline saved the day by making homemade cinnamon rolls with Sophie for us to enjoy while watching the Oscars.

Life goes on and I hope that somewhere in the recesses of my children's minds, there is a memory of Friday and those waffles . . .

Homemade Belgian Waffles

Recipe from Williams-Sonoma

• 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour (next time I'll try substituting half wheat flour)
• 1/3 cup white sugar
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 3/4 teaspoon salt
• 2 cups milk
• 1 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
• 2 eggs
• 1/2 stick melted butter
• 2 Tbls flax seed (optional)

1. Whisk dry ingredients in large bowl.  Add the milk and vanilla and whisk until combined.
2. Finally, add the eggs and butter and whisk until smooth.
3. Preheat the waffle maker following the instructions. Pour the batter onto the waffle maker and bake until golden brown, 4-5 minutes.
4. Serve warm with fresh fruit, whipped cream, pure maple syrup…
5. To reheat, just pop in the toaster.

my girl

The wonderful things about Liza . . .

she NEVER takes off her favorite polar bear hat, ever (eats, sleeps, plays, etc.)
she loves outings with mom - and a few hours at Tracy Aviary is still cool
she loves owls as much as me
she still holds my hand
she asks questions about everything
her sensitivity to the world around her is astounding.

We enjoyed a delightful time at the Aviary earlier this week while the big girls were having their tennis lesson (plus, we had the place to ourselves - my advice - take advantage of these balmy winter days and head on over :-).  I'm glad I captured a few moments on my phone camera:

Our favorite Barn Owl - we had to go visit him three times that day - Liza loves this guy,

 along with Millie the crow who can say "wow."

Liza, may you forever stay young, innocent, precocious, and continue to find joy in the world around you.

 - mom

How sweet it is . . .

when a child reaches another milestone signifying more freedom for me and more independence for them.

Today's moment came when Sophie rushed in the house breathless, asked if she and best buddy/tennis partner Carli could grab their gear and ride bikes over to our friend's backyard court to play tennis.   The girls have only ventured across the busy road that connects our neighborhoods once, and they made it home in one piece, so Carli's mom and I figured they could give it a go again.

We filled water bottles, sprayed sunscreen, snapped helmet straps on tight, and sent them on their merry way . . .  a couple hours later Sophie appeared in the house with a silly grin plastered on her face that read, "see, I can do it all by myself, and oh ya, we had a blast!"

And I finished vacuuming.  Everyone wins.

Tennis bag packed, ready to go

heading out on her adventure

and they're off!

What can a mom do at home when the kids are all gone . . .

Trail run 6 miles with the dog, and taking in the spectacular views with no rush to get home

Dust all the blinds, shutters, shelves, and furniture

Deep clean vacuum all the rugs

A couple loads of laundry

Color gray roots (thanks Clairol), shower, blow dry my hair, put on make-up, and actually put on REAL clothes

2 1/2 hour lunch outing with a friend (when we sat down at the restaurant, we both said it felt like we were on VACATION)

Write in my journal

Blog

Set up my husband's facebook account (if you know Chris, be his friend!)

Organize and clean cupboards, shelves, and the pantry

Chat with neighbors outside without interruptions

Play piano for an hour, uninterrupted

Polish the kitchen table and chairs

Read, read, read

Hike up the trail a bit to watch the sunset

Meaningful conversations with Chris during our peaceful evening meals for two

Organize the food storage

Watch the Stanley Cup Finals (way to go BRUINS) and catch up on "Breaking Bad" and "The Daily Show" while cuddling on couch with hubby

Shop on the internet (so much fun - can't remember the last time I took time to do this!)

Listen to my music . . . and play it loud

Make phone calls

Finally clean out the ski closet and replace all the helmets, gloves, goggles, and ski pants with towels, sunscreen, and beach toys.

SLEEP IN.  Yep, slept in until almost 10am this morning - felt great :-).

We get all the kids back on Saturday, 
and I've realized that every mother needs a few days in her own house ALONE.

That is what I consider a vacation.

Hold it together

Today marked another unwelcome milestone: the last 1st grade program I'll attend until I have grandchildren.

How depressing.

It was precious.  Cute Liza in her favorite sundress and cardigan standing up straight and tall next to her 1st grade buddies singing her little heart out with the rest of those adorable toothless children.  It didn't hit me until the final couple of songs that this was it, after three other sweet, innocent, and informative 1st grade programs throughout the years, this was my last . . . my baby was moving on.

Sniffle, sniffle.

I did pretty well holding it together until the slide show.  What is it about sadistic 1st grade teachers that want to make mothers of last children make fools of themselves in front of their neighbors??  Really, flood gates and NO tissues . . . man, I wasn't prepared.  My friends from the neighborhood (who, btw, still have younger children) offered their support and condolences with looks of confused sympathy.  Just wait my friends, your day will be here soon!

It was just last week for FHE that we watched Ryan's 1st grade program from Rock Canyon Elementary school in Provo, and now my little Liza was singing in hers.  Life seriously moves too quickly, and I'm finding myself becoming more emotional with each milestone.  Really, crying on the last day of "mommy and me" Kindermusik was one thing . . . what in the world am I going to be like when she graduates from high school??

The least I can do is capture the moment forever.  Oh, wait,  the video camera didn't have a battery and my camera battery died.  Wow, nice one Mom.   But, I did have the cell phone for a quick, yet grainy shot of my girl.  Oh, and thanks Caroline for spending the morning of your first day of summer break supporting your little sister . . . and wondering what is wrong with your overly emotional mother.

And thanks Liza for the giant hug and sweet kiss after the program.  You rock my world young one!

What it's all about

Mother's Day 2011

With my favorite little (and not so little) people in the world

The month of May has flown by, and I'm sure it's been just as crazy for the rest of you as it's been for our crew.  So, I'm attempting to catch up with a few posts capturing our favorite memorable events from the past month.   I'll begin with probably the greatest Mother's Day I've ever experienced . . .

Maybe it's the unsettling feeling that we only have a few short years left having Ryan with us everyday, or the fact that our family really does have a lot of fun just being together, or possibly that I truly do relish my role as "mom" to these kids . . . whatever the reason, this past Mother's Day everything became crystal clear as I reflected on my family, our past, and our future.

It's becoming a tradition on the Saturday before Mother's Day that we celebrate with dinner and a movie of my choosing.  The little girls look forward to our outing because the past few years we have seen the Disney Nature films that are released every spring - this year to our delight, it was African Cats.  So after a yummy meal at one of my favorite spots (which is always fun for the family since our friends own the restaurant and we always see someone we know), embarrassing Ryan to no end (note to other parents: don't reach down your shirt in public to retrieve a stray piece of ice), and laughing so hard together after my slight slip of the tongue while telling the kids we had a box of "Reece's Pieces" for the movie, I realized there was no one on earth I'd rather be spending my evening with.

As I sat in the movie theater while the lights dimmed, surrounded by my family, I couldn't help but think:  This is what it's all about - this is it - my family, the love we have for one another, and the support system we have created in our little Cantera unit - it really doesn't get better than this.  


It's powerful moments like these that keep me trudging along when the kids argue or when I'd appreciate more harmony in the home, because deep down the kids know how much fun we have, how much we really do enjoy being together, and I think that has got to count for something!

It was truly a Mother's Day to remember.  On Sunday Ryan was ordained a priest and blessed the sacrament for the first time.  What more could a mother ask for, than to have a son worthy to become priest and watch him prepare and bless that sacred ordinance.  Furthermore, the young women were asked to say a few words about what they learned from their mothers, and it was nice to hear from my sweet daughter as she expressed her thoughts.  The little girls couldn't wait to shower me with homemade cards and gifts . . . and the best part was the Sunday nap on the living room couch while the crew fixed dinner.

Yep, a Mother's Day I'll never forget.  Thanks Family!

16 YEARS!

Yep, it's official, we have a 16 year old.

I love it,

and it just keeps getting better.

The poster we all signed for his big day . . . Chris added a little cash.

Our annual birthday outing: shopping and lunch!

Today my thoughts were filled with those sweet moments my son and I have shared over the past 16 years. I tend to get a little sentimental on my children's birthdays as I reflect on their childhood and how they've grown and what they've learned along the way.  For Ryan this past year as been filled with a tremendous amount of growth, in both maturity and wisdom.  I couldn't be more proud of this boy and the direction his life is taking.  Ryan's future is very bright, and today I found myself reminiscing about all of the small and seemingly insignificant building blocks that have formed our mother-son relationship over the years:

Dear Ryan,
Remember when . . .

We would snuggle on the rocking chair reading your favorite books?
Now I watch you hunched over the latest required classic as you carefully annotate each chapter and study for the next English test.

I would drive you to the ice rink, help you put on your gear, and kneel down to tie your skates before practice?
Now you drive yourself to the rink, grab your bag and stick out of the trunk and head off to your practices and games with an absentminded wave and "bye Mom."

You would ask me questions about anything that crossed your mind because you believed I knew all the answers?
Now I watch you carefully considering your options, coming to conclusions on your own, and sharing your new found knowledge and wisdom with me.

We would watch sports together and I could teach you the basics?
Now you fall on the couch, exhausted after school, and tune into "Sportscenter" to catch up on the latest games, stats, and player info . . . you even keep track of you brackets during March Madness.

You would follow the tracks I made with precision on the ski hill so you would know just how to make that perfect turn?
Now I follow you off the beaten track and into the trees for knee deep powder.

All you wanted to listen to was "Wee Sing Dinosaurs," then you, Caroline, and I would sing along together in the car?
Now, I'm dropping you off at various concert venues with your friends so you can watch your favorite artists perform.

You were the slowest kid on the soccer field and once you hollered to me, "I'm running as fast as my yittle yegs can carry me!"
Now you run with grace and speed up and down the lacrosse field, making your mom beam with pride as you play for your high school team.

We made that card for Valentine's day for the little girl you liked in Kindergarten?
Now we're coming up with creative ways to ask a sweet young lady to the Homecoming dance.

I would sing you your favorite songs every night when I tucked you in?
Now, I peek in your room to say goodnight, usually to see you scanning your i-pod looking for that perfect song to lull you to sleep.

I would take you out to lunch, just the two of us, and had to think of topics to keep our conversation going?
Now we can't stop talking we have so much to say to each other . . .

After our lunch at "Himalayan Kitchen" - Ryan's favorite.

Happy Birthday Ryan.  I am grateful for the journey we've had together.  It's been a pleasure raising you these 16 years, despite the bumps in the road at times.  Thank you for not only being my son, but my friend.

Love,

Mom

Not so great mom

Alright, I figured it's about time I let you in on a secret.  There are days when I stink as the mom, yep, really mess things up, and today I my kids clearly thought I'd be a great candidate for "worst mom EVER."

I think it's the guilt.  Guilt for not whisking Liza out of her first grade classroom months ago, and now regretting the lost weeks she has been required to spend in a windowless, dreary school with too many kids stuck in a tiny classroom with a teacher who doesn't believe in letting kids "read ahead" or do any math homework for fear that they will "know more" than the other students.

We pulled her out today and will begin homeschooling in the afternoons.  I should have moved her into a different school when I had the chance back in October, but thought things would get better and that I shouldn't be so hasty.  We tried to switch schools at the Christmas break, but unfortunately the classes were full, so this is my compromise.  She still will go to school in the morning because the class is smaller and after today's experiment, I know I'm not prepared or qualified to have her home all day.

So, with the massive weight of "not being more aware of my child's needs" plaguing me, I added more flames to my guilt fire and systematically offended each of my kids today.  Good one.

Here's the run-down:   anger at the school combined with frustration that Liza hasn't progressed much, led to unwarranted impatience as we were working on counting money (oh ya, and my neighbor came over right in the middle of it . . . always great to hear, "is everything ok" when you answer the door - ugh).  Nice.  Next victim, Ryan . . . I said something that made it sound like I didn't trust him (NEVER let your trustworthy teen think you don't trust them - ugh).  Good one Julie.  Next victim, Sophie . . . who came home from school excited to share the news of the day and all I did was nag about her completed math assignment she forgot to take to school.  Lovely.  Next victim, Caroline . . . I flipped out when she and Sophie let the dog out without supervision and it ran over to the neighbors, almost got hit by a car, and then pooped on the neighbor's lawn (immediately telling Caroline now she was responsible for that mess).  Just wonderful, did I forget anyone?

Alright, there you go, my less than stellar day of mothering.  I did apologize to everyone and my favorite response came from Caroline when she told me, "you can't just freak out like that and then say I'm sorry and act all happy like everything is normal again."  Um, yes I can Caroline, that's what I do :-).

Just so you all don't think I'm completely deserving of the award for the worst mom, we did make it to the store to pick out the little girls' Valentines, and I did manage to make a yummy curry/chicken/couscous dinner (guilt: not eating together, but rather everyone just grabbed a plate dished a serving straight from the stove and sat wherever - sigh).  And most importantly, they all received a big hug and heartfelt explanation that it was just a hard day and I'll try better next time.  Then I accompanied Chris to the first round of the state playoff hockey championships to cheer on our son . . . bonus, they won!

The good news is that tomorrow is a new day and I'll have a clean slate once again.