Sad and Happy

I have been sad.  Hearing about what happened to the little children and their teachers in Connecticut filled me with sorrow.  The uncontrollably crying kind.  I haven't felt that much grief since my baby Gwendolyn was stillborn.  It was tough.  I kept saying to myself, "I have all of this empathy for those parents.  To what purpose?  What can I do with it to make it useful?  How can this grief be to the benefit of those who truly have cause to mourn?"  I'm still thinking about that question.

Interestingly, last week (or maybe the week before) I saw a Frontline on PBS about a mortuary. I think it was called "The Business of Dying" or something like that.  The mortician who was the main person they interviewed had some insights into how our culture deals with death that I thought were worthwhile.  He talked about how we are so removed from death now...in the old days death was so much more hands on.  People weren't swept away in a black car never to be seen again until they were pristine and dressed in their finest laid out for burial.  Loved ones dealt with the dead from the moment it happened until the last shovel full of dirt was tamped into place.  Death really is a part of life.  None of us can avoid it.  But it seems like our whole culture today is built upon just that principal - to avoid death in any way.  I do believe that grieving would be easier if we all weren't working so hard to pretend that death isn't out there, or doesn't affect us, or isn't something that we should let ourselves think about. 

  So, I have thought about death, and naturally that means I have also thought about life.  Specifically the life each of my children are living right now.  They are each having such a unique experience in life, and sometimes I try to imagine what it is like for them.  How is it to have me for a mother?  What are their days like when I'm not with them?  What do they think about in their quiet moments?  I love talking to them and coming to understand little pieces of the answers to these questions.  Ultimately, it is their lives that are the most interesting thing about my own.  How could you not want to happily go through life with these faces?

Post-Halloween Post

Here we are again, eh?  Back for another little chat.  So, what's new?  Hmm...

Halloween is over.  I'd put up some pictures but I never get around to that.  Just picture in your mind's eye two girls dressed as angels with fluffy white halos, long white dresses, and fancy angel wings (thanks for the costumes Grandma!), one big kid decked out as an alligator wrestler (picture a Steve Irwin type guy) and a baby wearing an alligator costume to complete the vignette.  We had a good time at our ward's Trunk-or-Treat.  Tyler and I even dressed up for that one.  I was Mary Poppins and he was Bert (the sidewalk art Bert, in the Barbershop Quartet looking get-up, not the chimney sweep Bert).  Everyone knew who I was, and if they saw us together they knew who Tyler was.  If they saw him alone no one knew who he was supposed to be, so he had to stay close to me all evening...which was kind of strange because I'm not used to being around him much...

Between his work schedule, his MBA class, and his church calling I just don't spend much time with him, and the children see him less than me.  It's not my favorite thing.  I'm always telling myself that lots of wives have husbands they don't see much...but that's not so comforting really.  Growing up with a dad who is a university professor and always available and home a lot spoiled me.  I didn't come into my marriage expecting to be basically a single parent for long stretches of time.  I know it's no fun for Tyler either but it's hard to feel like there is no flexibility in my life.  The possibility of doing any errand, any project, any ANYthing child-free is just not there.  It's kind of exasperating.   And I have kids that I really like and that are generally well behaved - I can only imagine the lengths I'd have to go to to survive if they were extra obnoxious and rambunctious.  I'm sure my life would have to include daily medication. 

Wesley is going through a difficult phase right now (surprise, surprise) which doesn't help.  He cries a tortured and delirious cry if I am not holding him or directly engaged with him in some way every waking moment.  If I try to do something he grabs my legs in his freakishly strong vice grip and won't let go.  I know all babies do this to some extent, but he is absolutely relentless with it.  He does it all day, everyday.  Every time I put him down.  It really wears me out.

On the plus side, we are having a week of amazing fall weather.  In the low 70's, and some of the leaves are turning colors.  The end of daylight savings time means an afternoon spent at the city park ends as the sun is setting in the beautiful Texas sky with a cool breeze rustling those orange-ish leaves...a perfect Texas fall day that makes me wish I cold put it in a bottle and live it again and again when my kids are all grown up.  Or at the very least be one of those moms that takes beautiful pictures with a real camera.  I told the kids I might make them dress up in their Halloween costumes again so I could take some pictures of them outside now that it actually looks a bit like Fall.  I was too frenzied getting the kids ready and out the door by myself on the real Halloween to take any pictures at all. 

But, things are looking up.  Thanksgiving is coming, which means a week off of school for the kids and two days off of work for Tyler.  Maybe we can all get reacquainted :).

Turning Into Your Mother

You know how people say "I am turning into my mother!"when they notice they have done something a little bit bonkers?  Well, I think more accurately people should say "I have turned into a mother!", because really, most of these little things we thought were so annoying as children are not just some idiosyncrasy of our own mother, but things that just happen when faced with the realities of motherhood. 

I can think of two classic examples of things from my childhood that drove my dad and siblings and I absolutely crazy. 

One was that nearly every night my mom would make dinner, tell us it was time to eat, keep pestering us that dinner was on the table NOW, settle us all down for a prayer, and then as soon as everyone said "amen" she would excuse herself to go to the bathroom.  We all thought this was so ridiculous.  Why rush us all to the dinner table when you yourself aren't even ready to sit and down and eat it? 

Now that I am making dinner for my own family every night I understand this phenomenon completely.   I am rushing around to make dinner at the time of day when everyone is at their crankiest, with a baby crying and holding onto my legs and kids asking me how to spell things and other kids crying because someone just socked them in the face and other kids yelling out, "It was an ACCIDENT and  I said SORRY".  Somehow the meal all comes together and you manage to get your family gathered around it.  As you sit down to join them you realize "Hey, I have to use the bathroom".  And you genuinely did not have time to think of this before the instant you sat down and finally had a moment to pay attention to your personal needs.  So Mom, I apologize for all of the eye rolling and snide comments when you excused yourself to use the bathroom nearly every night.

The other example is the classic "Mom is always the last one in the car".  Sundays are the prime example.  Everyone is dressed, everyone has his or her hair combed, shoes on, scriptures found, and is in the car.  Except for Mom.  Every few second someone yells out the car window into the open door to the house "Mom, are you coming?!" And the reply "Yes...coming!" wafts back to you.  Sometimes we would even see her in the doorway and it looked like she was heading for us, but then a quick turn back into the house and we'd lose her again.   It was so exasperating.  After all, Mom was up before the rest of us.  She was showered before any one else.   Surely she has had the most time to get herself ready to go! 

Now I know all too well what happens when it's time to load up the car.  Invariably I am the last one climbing into our car on Sundays, fastening on an earring or putting fingernail polish on a run in my nylons as I get settled.  Sometimes I feel I have to explain myself so I'll start on the list "I just had to make sure I took the cake out of the oven, and that the crockpot had been turned down to low, and I had to grab the things from the printer for Sharing Time, and Lily needs a safety pin for her dress where that button popped off five minutes ago, and the snack for the baby didn't get put into the bag so I had to grab that, and I have a little something for the people I visit teach that I had to put in a bag, and of course I had to go to the bathroom".   It's funny - no matter how prepared I think I am to leave the house, suddenly, at the moment of truth, I will think of at least five things I need "grab" or "run and check on" before I can actually leave.

So Mom, I'm sorry for giving you a hard time about this one too.  I now realize that these things just sometimes come with the job.  I really appreciate the work you put into being my mom, and I hope someday my own children will come to the same realization (and in so many things if I could honestly say "I am turning into my mother!" it would be a huge compliment).

The Baby of the Family

I have an eighteen month old baby that does not talk.  He babbles.  He jabbers.  He does not form actual words.  This is very strange to me because it does not follow the pattern of any of my other children.  Then again, he is breaking the mold in many ways. For instance, he chews gum.  And he does not swallow it.  He will hand it to me in a sticky, slobbery lump with his little sticky, slobbery fingers when he is done with it.

 He also knows how to gargle with mouthwash.  Not that I actually let him gargle with mouthwash, but he doesn't know it is just a bit of water in the rinsed-out mouth wash bottle.  He is thrilled with oral hygiene. 

He is also a champion door closer.  He takes it upon himself to close the door to any closet or the pantry whenever he notices it ajar.  Same thing with the dishwasher...even when I am trying to load/unload it.  He is undeterred by my explanations that I need it open for the moment and goes ahead and shoves that door up as hard as he can.  He will not be satisfied he has done his job until he hears it slam.  Then he looks at me with a pleased smile on his face waiting for my unenthusiastic "Thank you, Wes".  Job done, he'll go on to find the next open door and I will stealthily open the dishwasher again to finish my job. 

He does the usual things - he takes out all of the pots and pans and arranges them on the kitchen floor.  I will give him a wooden spoon and some magnet letters off the fridge to stir in the pots and he is happily an alphabet soup chef for about three minutes. 

He climbs on everything.  For some reason that one line of "Ice Ice Baby" always comes to mind..."If there's a problem, yo, I'll solve it" except in my head I hear "If there's furniture, yo, he'll climb it".  He gets himself stuck in all kinds of ways with his climbing.  Sometimes he's gotten all the way up somewhere and he can't get down, sometimes a leg or an arm will get caught in the rungs of a chair as he climbs, sometimes he'll climb until he gets wedged in a tight space and can't move at all. 

His obsession with technology is unsurpassed.  The fits he throws when he sees a phone or a computer of any kind are pretty amazing.  He is not ashamed to scream and to cry - the turning red, shrieking, limbs clenched and shaking kind of screaming and crying - to get a go at that screen.  If you try to be a step ahead and turn your device off before you hand it to him he will find the power button immediately and turn it back on.  If for some reason he fails to get it to power up he will throw it, flinging it to the floor with such a look of disgust that I nearly laugh every time...only the thought of how unwise I was to willingly let him handle my electronics again, when he just threw it on the floor again keeps me from true enjoyment of his frustrated face. 

I feel like it must be because I'm old now and my energy is gone that this baby seems so active and, well, kind of a mess.  I mean, he's cute and dear and I love him more than I can say, but his waking hours require a level vigilance I just don't remember with my other kids.   I know he will grow up, and he won't be my little non-speaking, furniture climbing, door closing, electronics nabbing baby forever.  I'll miss his squeezable, kissable, babyness - but you know what?  I like my kids as they grow up.  I'm looking forward to getting to know him as his own person - and besides, my kids never really grow out of their squeezable, kissable, stage anyway. 

Getting What You Deserve

You know what one of my least favorite words in the English language is?  It is "deserve".  This concept drives me absolutely crazy.  How many times has something good happened to someone and people tell them "Oh, you deserve it!".  Really?  Why?  What makes one person more "deserving" than the next?  Goodness?  Patience?  Beauty?  Suffering?  Misfortune?  I really don't get it.

"That Baby Needs Drugs", and Other Pleasantries

Judging by the number of comments I receive I know the world waits with rapt attention for the next installment of our adventure, so let's just wrap this thing up, shall we?

The drive back to Texas began without incident.  We planned to camp one night mid-way home, which would mean finding a campground near Santa Rosa.  Tyler decided he'd like to stop for the day sooner rather than later and have time to set up camp and enjoy whatever it is you are supposed to do when you camp.  (I personally have never been able to figure this out.)  That meant staying at a campground closer to Gallup (or, for those who know it's true significance, it is even closer to Grants!).  We needed to stop at a store to load up on camping food, which led us to a Wal-Mart in Gallup, NM.  Now, I know Wal-Mart and its customers have a bad reputation.  You can find ample evidence for every single complaint about Wal-Mart by visiting the store in Gallup, NM.  I don't think I need to say more about that experience.

We finally reached our campground at Bluewater Lake, NM.  I noticed a generous scattering of horse manure throughout the campground but didn't think much of it.  People ride their horses through campgrounds, right?  Imagine my surprise when later in the evening a herd of horses came running at a gallop through the campground, completely unattended by any human. They stopped and began to graze among the camp sites.  Apparently this campground is either in the midst of a wild horse preserve or in the middle of a rancher's grazing land...either way it was kind of cool and kind of disconcerting to be surrounded by roaming horses - particularly with small children around. 

We spent a completely unrestful night in the tent...3 of our children did just fine and one of them didn't take kindly to not being in his bed and showed that displeasure by crying and trying to gouge out my eyes with his little fingers...I'll let you try to figure out who.

Day 2 of the return journey saw us wending our way through more of New Mexico.  After our first post-camping gas and bathroom stop we were loading everyone back in the car.  Relevant to what happens next is this fact: Wesley cannot stand to be put into his car seat.  I'm sure it didn't help that he had been traveling for a day plus some, but even in the best of circumstances he screams and arches and writhes and generally acts like he is being mistreated in a cruel manner by unfeeling tormentors.  So, he is doing his usual thing as I try to get him in the car.  The woman getting into her car next to us says to me "have you ever tried drugging him?"....ummm.....come again? She continues "My dogs don't like the car and I always give them Children's  Benedryl.  You should try it."  A little "Ha ha, he just doesn't like getting buckled, he'll be fine in a few seconds" speech from me and an unconvinced smirk from her, and we were off. I had to wonder what kind of person goes around suggesting to total strangers that their babies need to be drugged (like dogs, no less).  Then I had to wonder what type of baby leads random passers-by to conclude they need to be drugged...

The next time we stopped for a restroom break we were still in NM.  It was hot and miserable and the Dairy Queen in the gas station had lost power which was a blow to our morale.  Two men were working on their motorcyles right in front of us.  They asked Tyler for jumper cables and a jump start.  I took the kids into the bathroom and when we came out the bikers had their engines revving and were ready to roll.  As we headed out Tyler tells me that these two bikers were members of the Knights Of Columbus.  They were returning from a Knights of Columbus Convention when one of their bikes broke down and we saved the day.  (Some of you will know why this story has significance.)

I was very grateful to cross the Texas state line. We grabbed a pizza in Wichita Falls as Tyler reminisced about his mission days, pointing out exciting landmarks like "This is the apartment complex where the other set of Elders lived - the Elders who asked me for permission to go stay in the sister missionaries' closet during a tornado warning" (permission was denied).  After that we were nearly home.  We arrived home and put the kids to bed in an upstairs that was 96 degrees according to our thermostat and they were so happy to be in their own beds that they didn't mind it (much).  Tyler and I waited to go to bed until the interior temperature was down to 86, and I didn't even mind it (much) either.

I've Been Through The Desert In a Van With No Name

I am overwhelmed at the thought of writing all of the happenings from our most recent family trip to Sedona, AZ.  That's why I have decided to just write little stories at a time instead of the whole trip in one LONG post. 

Let me begin the re-cap by saying that the trip out to AZ was very pleasant.  For the first time ever we divided a road trip into two legs instead of driving straight through.  We drove for 8 hours and then spent the night in Santa Rosa, NM. 

We got there at about 4:30 in the afternoon, so we checked in to the Super 8 and asked the receptionist what to do in town with a bunch of little kids who have been in the car all day.  She helpfully pointed to the park directly behind the Dollar General right across the road.  We headed over there to discover a strange little park with the hugest ants I have ever seen in my life.  I don't love insects in general, but ants are simply my undoing.  I loathe them.  One contributing factor is that there is really never just one lone ant.  Where there is one there are a thousand.  And since I have general phobia of all things that can be said to swarm, ants in their multitudes fit firmly in that category as well.  Aside from being aghast at the size and number of ants, I thought the park excursion went well.  Tyler picked up a pizza and brought it back to the ant park and dinner al fresco was enjoyed by all. 


After we'd (okay, mostly just me) had our fill of the park we went for a little drive to see what more Santa Rosa had to offer.  Surprise, surprise, we found some gems.  Not 200 feet from where we were nearly born off by the mutant ants there was a fabulous lake/swimming hole in the park.  It looked like such fun and we were so disappointed that had we only known it was there we could have be swimming all evening.  The kids were pretty disappointed that we didn't have time to swimming there before the park closed for the night.  We tried to appease them by reminding them that the house we were renting in Sedona had it's own pool, but even we knew that a pool has nothing on a big lake in a park with a diving board and a cool dock.

Park Lake (These are not my pictures.  Some nice people who use the internet took them.  Thank you, nice people, for preserving the memories I didn't take the time to.)

 We continued driving, following signs for the "Blue Hole".  We finally found it behind some buildings and this was another little gem.  It is a very deep natural swimming hole - apparently it is 80 ft. deep and an excellent place for scuba diving.  It was totally cool and teenagers were doing crazy running leaps off of the rocks at the top into the water.  The kids were again disappointed that we couldn't swim there, but that one I wasn't as sad about.  Four small children in an 80 ft. deep swimming hole?  No thank you. 

The Blue Hole (No, I did not take this picture either.  It was full of people when we saw it, but we were there at sunset and the setting was this beautiful.)

That little drive left us with the feeling that Santa Rosa was a destination all on it's own and we wouldn't mind coming back again, this time being more prepared for it's aquatic amusements. 

After a quite good night of sleep all things considered we hit the road again the next day and drove for another 8 hrs. until we got to Sedona. 

Sedona was filled with time with cousins and swimming and hiking and seeing wild animals at a Safari Park and buying souvenirs and jumping off of rock cliffs into rivers and having a good old time with the extended Brock family. 

Cousin time at Slide Rock State Park

Tyler feeding a giraffe on our safari.  He had to feed the giraffe as proxy for each of our children who were too scared to do it - notice his fist full of their carrots?

After 5 days of frolicking, it was time to drive home.  And that's where things got really weird.

To be cont...