McKenzie's Birthday

Things are changing. For her birthday this year she didn't ask for crafts and kits and something to play with. She asked for cash and shoes and wireless ear buds and one (hail mary, long shot, might as well ask for it) iPhone.

This girl is a full blown teenager.

And not just any shoes, let's back up, but mustard yellow and white checkered Vans. Apparently that's the thing these days, she told me, and all the stores in town and online seemed to validate that by slapping their Out Of Stock signs every place the mustard yellow and white checkered Vans should have been. Fortunately however, the favored Vans aren't quite as favored in Park City at the moment (and also fortunately, Brian and I happened to be in Park City the week before McKenzie's birthday) so when we happened to drive by the Vans outlet store on our way home from dinner one night (by typing it into GoogleMaps and driving 40 minutes out of the way), we were able to pick up a pair.

I might have hugged the box when the store clerk brought them out.

But that was only because I knew it would be the highlight of her birthday. And it was. So even though I don't generally subscribe to brand names in general, it was fun to see her so excited about a pair of shoes.

We let her open them up early in the morning and they went immediately on her feet. And on her way out the door to Seminary I knew that the day was destined to be great because of all the happy energy that seemed to be originating right from those feet.

A few hours later, Eliza and I checked her out of school during her lunch period because somehow through the years, that has become tradition. We didn't have much time, unfortunately, because lunch periods are a joke these days, so she picked the Southwest Diner right here in town and we talked and laughed while she wolfed down her giant burrito.

Later that night I fried up some Fry Bread to make Navajo tacos for dinner per her request and it made me smile because Navajo tacos were my favorite food when I was about her age, too. In fact, I remember sitting down on the grass in the middle of Swiss Days one year as a teenager with a giant Navajo Taco in my lap (actually, they called it a Swiss Taco because, Swiss Days). I was feeling grumpy that I smelled like sauerkraut, and wishing that I could have been working in the Navajo Taco booth instead of the bratwurst and sauerkraut booth because then I could be smelling like a Navajo Taco instead.

Of course, through the years, my adult self has realized that smelling like a Navajo Taco isn't as fabulous as my teenager self once thought it would be.

But I do it anyway, on occasion. Especially for this girl.

This next picture sums up one of the greatest things about McKenzie. She is a protector. She loves her little brothers and, consciously or not, fills her role of being the big sister with passion.

After the above picture was taken, I realized that I wanted Eliza to be a part of it too, but since Eliza was all the way across the table buckled into her seat, I felt it would be easier to ask all four of the older kids to move their bodies rather than unbuckling Eliza and moving hers. (And so illustrates the thought that sometimes she is more of a handful than all four other children combined.)

I don't know if you can tell, but Eliza was not entirely happy to be involved in the picture. It's because Timothy was standing next to her, and she has a little bit of an issue with Timothy these days. You see, she has it in her head that she deserves 100% of my time and attention, and Timothy sometimes gets in the way of that plan. So whenever he gets close to her she reacts unkindly, which is so sad to see because Timothy genuinely has nothing but love and affection for her (which, to her credit, he shows rather boisterously at times), and her unkindness crumbles him. And so we see again the protector in McKenzie, Timothy has no idea about what's going on right next to him because of McKenzie's strong and loving arm placed purposefully around her little sister.

Then I wanted a picture of just McKenzie, but Miles had other ideas.

Neither of us noticed him there until after I'd taken the picture, and then when I pointed him out, we all laughed for much longer than you would have expected.

Eventually the night came to an end and we sent McKenzie to bed with lots of hugs and kisses and glad you were borns. And after she'd disappeared into her room for the night I realized that I hadn't gotten a single picture of her with the number 15 in it (and apparently I felt it was important to do so), so I ran upstairs and pulled her back out of her room to 'sit on the stairs by your 15 so I can get one more picture.' 

Brian didn't know I had this on my agenda, nor did he see me run up the stairs to get her, so when he turned around from doing the dishes in the kitchen at the base of the stairs and saw McKenzie like this, meditating, after we'd already sent her off to bed, he was obviously confused.

"Uh, Kenz?" He stared, "What the heck?"

We laughed for much longer than you would have expected.

Eventually she calmed down enough for us to get one 'normal' picture, and then was sent to bed for the final time that night.

A few days later, I packed her and a few of her friends into the car and headed off to an escape room where we all worked together to make our way out of a(n absolutely disgusting) jail cell. (It wasn't actually disgusting, but it was made to look so, complete with a nasty toilet (with dirty water at the bottom (that we had to DIG THROUGH! (and when I say 'we' I mean Jayce (he was our hero.))))

(Do you see the mustard yellow and white checkered Vans on two of the girls up there? I'm telling you, it's the thing.) (Do you also notice that there are boys in this picture? Teenage boys? Like, 'I want to invite teenage boys to my teenage birthday party' boys?! It's cool. Totally cool. I'm not making it a thing, you are.) And then we all went back to our house where a few more people came to celebrate McKenzie with a riveting tournament of Mario Kart.

Eliza was happy to watch everyone play and seemed to enjoy the energy in the house (which isn't always the case).

I watched these kids all night, and it's funny because sometimes I don't feel all that removed from being a teenager myself. And then in other ways it feels like another lifetime. Weird.

They played other games, wrestled (boys), talked, wrestled (boys), ran around, wrestled (boys), and finished the night off playing volleyball.

It was a fun night. And at the end of it McKenzie said, "you know, I used to think that Carson and Miles were so weird for wrestling around all the time, but now I realize that it's just boys!" Her eyes were rolling wide and Brian and I laughed right out loud while she continued, "Those boys were on the ground all night!"

And we laughed for much longer than you would have expected.

Happy Birthday, my love!

Deer Valley - Day 3

The last day started the same as the other two, with Brian learning about eyeballs and me at the windows, and when Brian was finished with his meetings, he came up excited to get out on the slopes. I, for whatever reason, was not so excited. Actually, let's be honest, it wasn't for whatever reason... it was for the particular reason that the front of my ankles were not going to like being tucked into their ski boots again. They were telling me loud and clear that if I was going to ski moguls with my weight on my heels during day two, there would be consequences on day three.

I said I was sorry and I said I'd put my weight on my toes this time but, of course, they weren't interested in apologies.

Eventually I stopped dragging my feet and we were dressed and ready to go.

Out on the mountain, my ankles reminded me to lean forward. They'd shoot their warnings up my legs every time I leaned back even a little, and I knew if I kept that up I wouldn't be able to make it through the whole day. So I practiced. I leaned forward again, and then again, correcting my balance over and over, unlearning years of self teaching, learning how to do something I already loved doing. It felt weird and unnatural. I felt a little bit out of control and asked if we could go ski green hills for a bit while I practiced

And then it clicked.

I popped out of my turns and shifted my weight from one leg to the next almost effortlessly and felt far more in control of my movements than I ever had before. It felt so good that my hands went up in a victory pump and I shouted as I carved that green hill all the way down on my toes.

So we ventured on to harder hills.



And, you know what, despite all the pain and the difficult work of correction, it was by far my favorite day. The moguls were easier, and it gave me such a rush of adrenaline to see a path to improvement. I still have a long way to go, but it felt good.

And doesn't this story just yield itself to some great life lessons? It's easy to get comfortable in the way we're running our lives, it's easy to follow the same patterns and feel like everything is going smoothly. But God knows that there are places in our lives where a small change in our form would open up so much more to us, and sometimes the only way for him to get us to understand is to let us feel a pain that's strong enough for us to want to make that change.

Anyway, enough of that. Let's talk about my favorite hill.

My favorite hill was also my least favorite hill. Because while most of it was beautiful, fun, challenging and exciting, the first fifth of it was a steep sheet of ice.

Here's Brian on that portion:

He's the one down in front. I promise you, it was much steeper than it looks in this photo, and the fact that it was a complete sheet of ice all down the middle and most of the sides made it feel even steeper.  People were crashing all over the place.

Brian was there for a while... his ski had popped off in the crash, and the hill was steep enough that he had trouble getting the ski flat enough for him to be able to click his boot into it, but there was no loose snow with which to build himself a shelf. So instead, he had to hack away at the ice until he eventually created a shelf to place his ski into and finally re-click his boot.

We went down this run over and over again, and each time I just prayed that I'd get down this one portion in one piece so I could enjoy the rest of it.

By the end of the day we were exhausted. I've never skied three days in a row before. After the lifts closed we sat in these chairs, and I swear to you there have never been more comfortable chairs.

We had spent most of the day with Allison and Raymond again, and partway through we bumped into Ravi and were happy that he joined us for the rest of it.

Here's another perspective on the common 'toes in the sand with the ocean behind them' picture we all love so much:

I know I said this in a previous post, but I love to watch Brian with these guys. He has landed in a work atmosphere that he loves, full of good people that have similar personalities and interests. They have become such good friends for him.

Here Brian is, convinced that if he does this enough times dressed in all the ski gear and boots, he'll drastically improve his vertical jump:

That night, we went with Allison and Raymond to Fireside Dining which was a fun and unique experience.

As we walked in, the lady at the coat closet insisted that she take my coat. I smiled and hugged my warm coat around my body and said, "actually, I think I'm going to keep it. I feel a little chilled."

"It will get much warmer as you get in further," she responded.

"That's okay. If I get hot I'll just put it on the back of my chair."

She got a little irritated and said, "We've been picking up chairs off the floor all night... and it's a very busy night so we have a lot of tables and chairs packed in there... there really isn't enough room---" I interrupted her panicked monologue with a little, "okay, how about you take my coat." She looked triumphant as I unzipped it and handed it over.

And, for the record, she was right, it was plenty warm inside with all of the fires cooking the food in all of the rooms.

It was called Fireside Dining for a literal reason... we dined near the fireside, or firesides, I should say, in courses. First course was cheese, melted off a giant cube hanging near the fire and dripping onto plates which were handed to us and which we then took over to a table full of cured meats and small, colorful potatoes, and olives, and mustards which we were to eat with the cheese.

It was incredible.

There were then steaks, and stews and soups and some kind of fancy hash browns slathered in creme fraiche. There was pork and lamb and salads and, to top it all off, flambe and chocolate fondue. Each course was stationed around its own giant fireplace where the food was cooked and handed out by servers... it was quite the fun experience.

And then, to end our evening, Brian and Allison wanted to go on a sleigh ride over the mountains. And since it would have been quite awkward for Brian and Allison to go alone, Raymond and I went too.

I was sure at this point that I was not ready to go home yet.

Brian and I stayed up late that night talking about the trip. Analyzing moments and deciding to do a better job at teaching our kids how to ski.

We woke the next morning to a fresh foot of fallen snow and prayed our little Nissan down the icy roads. There were a few tense moments and one moment where we had completely lost control of the car for several seconds, but all was well in the end. We made it into Farmington to see Con and Jean, and Heidi, Adam and Steve came for dinner as well. We were only able to stay a couple of hours, but it was great to say hello and hug them for a bit before we were on our way to the airport and then on our way home to the kids.

Until next year, Deer Valley.

Deer Valley - Day 2

Remember how I was going to talk about these windows? Seriously, don't they just fill you with all the feelings? Every morning I would wake up and have a few hours to myself while Brian attended meetings. I sat here. I couldn't imagine sitting anywhere else... For hours I'd sit and devour my scriptures - I can't remember the last time I was able to devote so much time to one particular thing without being interrupted a million times. And I can't remember the last time I was able to sit in so beautiful a place to do so. Actually, I do remember... living in Miami with those perfect windows out to the ocean was pretty unbeatable.

I've learned that not everyone gets it, but I have a real reaction to being surrounded by light and beauty. It fills me, energizes me, helps me. I think I need to move again and make 'giant windows overlooking something beautiful' one of the non-negotiables. 

Anyway, once Brian was finished with his meetings for the morning, he'd run up to the suite and we'd throw our ski clothes on and head out to the mountain.

On Thursday morning when we first rented our skis, two different people running the rental shop commented on the fact that we were not renting helmets to go along with our skis.

Which I found odd.

And a little gimmicky.

Because when I was growing up, no one wore a helmet on the slopes. And the paradigm in which I live says that the only time you need a helmet is if you're planning to do crazy stuff.

Which we weren't.

So when they offered the helmets to us, I politely declined, and when they offered again I said, "No thanks, we're not doing anything too crazy." And so off we went with nothing protecting our brains but our skulls.

Well, it didn't take long to feel that perhaps my paradigm was a bit old fashioned (or perhaps it was just Deer Valley), because everyone on the slopes had a helmet. And when I say everyone, I literally mean that I saw only two other people all day that were behaving as reckless as we. There were helmets in the lines, on the bunny hills, walking into the lodge... everywhere. Now, generally I'm not one to be peer pressured into things, but it got us thinking and made us uncomfortable enough that on day two we went back into the rental shop and rented two helmets to keep for the rest of our time.

I suppose it was the smart thing to do. And, anyway, don't we look stunning?

We met up with several friends on the slopes on the second day. Raymond and Allison, Ravi, and Steve and Debbie all joined us and we spent much of the afternoon together, laughing at each other when we fell and encouraging each other to try new things.

I loved watching Brian grow in this skill. He had been a little tired, cold, and frustrated by the end of day one, but by the end of day two he was having a great time and not ready to go.

I, on the other hand, was quite tired and ready to go by the end of day two because I'd spent much of the day working on moguls, which showed me that I currently have much to be desired in terms of aerobic fitness.

But regardless of whether we were ready to go or not, the ski lifts closed, and since we were unwilling to walk up the mountains, we went home.

I had time to take a long hot shower and get ready for dinner, and Brian had time to attend more meetings to learn about how to be an better eye surgeon.

After that, we headed out to dinner with our good friends, Allison and Raymond. This was the view as we left our suite and looked down into the lobby.

Raymond and Allison had gotten reservations to The Blind Dog - which was a great seafood restaurant in town. They only had room for us at the bar (but it was a table in the bar) and the waitress was visibly frustrated when she learned that we would not be drinking for the night. I always feel a little twinge of guilt when I see the disappointment as the server realizes our bill (and therefore our tips) will not be quite as large as they had hoped, but in this case I think we redeemed our value a little bit by ordering four sodas, five appetizers, four entrees, and two desserts... and, surprisingly, we ate them all. I was quite impressed with ourselves, actually.  It was delicious food, and we stayed there for two and a half hours eating and talking and laughing.

There were only a couple of awkward moments when the drunk and/or mentally disabled man dining alone next to us (right next to us) wouldn't scoot over enough for me to slide into the bench at our table, or when he interrupted the waitress as she was taking our orders to ask for dessert, but it certainly added to the fun of the night.

And before we left the restaurant, I felt like we had to get at least one smudgy selfie.

It was a beautiful day and a carefree night, if you don't account for the weather. If you do account for the weather then the night had some cares as I fought the cold air. My brain wants to believe that if there is cold air on my skin - anywhere - then I am in danger of dying.

Deer Valley - Day 1

I love to be in airports. I know the air always has a funky smell, and I know a small Jamba Juice will cost me $8, and I know I don't want to touch the carpets with anything but the soles of my shoes, but still. I love to be in airports.

Everyone is going somewhere. Everyone is moving hundreds, or thousands of miles away from where they've been and are heading towards something different. They're going home, they're going on adventure, they're working for expanding companies, they're visiting family, they're exploring new cultures.

They're traveling.

And I think it's exciting.

I imagine train stations would be the same way, but I haven't been in enough of those to say one way or another.

Last Wednesday evening, Brian and I loaded our suitcases into our little green Honda Civic and soon enough found ourselves staring out a giant airport window at a beautiful view as we waited for the Southwest airline attendant to direct the B passengers to line up according to number.

This was notable, us waiting for the attendant to call the B passengers, because generally when we fly Southwest we don't hear it. We're already on board the airplane by that point, already wrestling with the children to sit calmly, already asking them to please not kick the seat in front of them, already burning through all the activities we brought along to keep the toddler entertained because families with young children get to board before the B passengers, you see.

But this time we weren't traveling as a family with young children. We were traveling as a couple (an adult couple, nonetheless), so we lost that privilege and instead had the different privilege of lining up with all the other B passengers, and all the subsequent privileges of flying without young children.

When we landed an hour and a half later in Salt Lake City, we realized that we had been a little negligent in planning ahead because, while we had spent the necessary amount of time packing and purchasing tickets to get to the Salt Lake City airport, we had not spent the necessary amount of time planning a way to leave the Salt Lake City airport. And, since the airport was not our final destination, this was a bit of a problem.

Thankfully Alamo came through and had plenty of cars for us to rent last minute, so it wasn't a problem for very long.

Soon we were buckled into a fancy Nissan Sentra (not really... but compared to our Honda Civic I suppose most things would be fancy to us) and on our way to the Chateaux at Deer Valley in Park City where Brian was to attend an ophthalmology conference, I was to attend a weekend of relaxation, and both of us were to attend to skiing.

You may have noticed above that Brian is wearing a Bolo around his neck. And you may not have noticed because, how would you know to look? And even if you had looked and you did notice, how would you know to call it a Bolo? And, in any case, by now I'm sure you're wondering why the Bolo is even significant at all.

Well, let me back up a little.

During Christmastime I reconnected with an old high school friend who happened to mention that he worked at Deer Valley.

"Oh," I said, "Brian and I are headed out there next month for an ophthalmology conference!"

"Really?! Well let me know where you're staying and the dates you're coming and maybe I can get you a lift ticket."

"Are you serious? That would be awesome." (Really awesome, I thought, since one lift ticket is $180 for the day, and we were each planning to ski for three.)

Fast forward to the present, one month and a couple of text conversations later, and we have now discovered that he is "basically the GM of the property" as he says, and his girlfriend of three years is the manager at the Chateaux where we are staying.

Which means that they are a pretty powerful couple when it comes to the Deer Valley experience.

And, let me tell you, they hooked us up.

Without us knowing, they upgraded our room to an absolutely beautiful luxury suite, added on a complimentary breakfast for all four mornings, and left a handwritten welcome card in our room with a platter of meats and cheeses and a bottle of Martinelli's sparkling cider. We were blown away when we walked into our suite (expecting the standard tight room with a queen sized bed and a small bathroom). There was classical music playing and a fire blazing in the fireplace and enough space that our whole family could have comfortably come along. And the windows... the windows in the living space are enough to make me want to live there forever and really deserve at least a paragraph of praise by themselves. But I'll talk more about the windows in the tomorrow* post. I have more pictures that need to be uploaded first and I'm way too lazy to do that tonight.

*Tomorrow doesn't actually mean tomorrow. It means I'll talk more about it whenever I write about Day 2

And if that wasn't enough, after I gushed my thank yous to this friend he replied, "Happy to do it. Call me when you come downstairs in the morning - I have ski tickets for you."

Which brings us back to the Bolo.

Because the Bolo, turns out, is a very elite piece of jewelry that basically acts as a transferable season pass. From what I understand, you can only get one in one of three ways. First, own some Deer Valley property (crrrrraaaaazy expensive), second, buy one for around 5K, or third, and lucky for us, know someone.

So my friend handed us the Bolo with very sober instructions to not lose it, and then (since that was good for only one of us) handed us another three full day passes.

I couldn't believe it.

We were so incredibly grateful.

The skiing on Thursday was lovely. Warm weather made for some pretty icy conditions, but at least it was warm weather. I felt so free on those skis and remembered, as I swished down the mountains, how much I do love to ski.

That night we went to a steakhouse with a bunch of the other doctors in Brian's practice. Again and again I try to like steak, but again and again it's a little meh for me. Which is not the way Brian feels about steak. So I usually try something new on the menu and Brian gets the steak. This time I got sea bass. Again and again I think I don't like fish (salmon and shrimp don't count), but again and again I try it and love it. Maybe I should change the story in my head about fish and just admit that I love it from the beginning.

After dinner Brian and I brought everyone back to our suite to chat and to feel pampered in the beauty of it for a while. Do you see what I mean about the windows?

And here's Brian showing off the Bolo one more time.

I love watching Brian around his co-workers. It's a space in his life that I don't get to see very often so when I do, I note its special nature. He loves these people. He's energized by them. And I love them too.

Scrambled Thoughts - January

1. Everyone should have a goal.

My goal, for example, is to get my home the way I want it over the next twelve months. Eliza's goal is to find joy in every step of the process.

Together I think we're going to make a great team.

Take pillow shopping, for example...

The truth is, had I gone pillow shopping by myself I would have found the pillows I wanted in no time at all.*

*Not true. I take forever to make any type of decision and deciding on pillows would have been no different with or without Eliza.

But since Eliza was with me, she made the experience a whole lot more delightful because of all the fun she had in selecting the pillows and snuggling all the pillows.

Eventually her good will ran out though, and she began screaming the word, "Wahhh-k!" over and over and over until I finally decided it would be best to let her get out of the cart and walk. Thankfully she's the best type of toddler to let walk around in a store because she's rather timid about jumping into anything unknown. Haven't ever seen something like a floor lamp before? Better not touch it. Those little glass balls on a shelf right next to your face? They look suspicious. On the contrary, things like chairs and pillows and glass figurines in the shape of kitties? Those are all toys and they all belong to her. So, her normal toddler shines through loud and clear there.

Anyway - taking Eliza around town this year finding home goods will be quite the experience for us both.

2 - Eliza is Eliza's favorite

It's easy to see why. She is adorable. But she knows it and wants nothing more than to see her adorable face when the camera comes out. I only get one shot of a cute, normal face because once she spots the phone she starts reaching for it.

And when I don't give it to her she starts screaming, "Zie-Zuh! Zie Zuh! Zie Zuh!" Which, being interpreted means, "Eliza! Eliza! Eliza! I want to see Eliza!"

And the moment which once was cute is cute no more.

3 - I started a new tradition.

It's called, take a picture of all five kids together every Sunday when they're all dressed up for church.
The five kids in question, however, believe this to be a terrible tradition and every one of them (except McKenzie - bless her sweet compliant heart) griped and complained at every step of the process. I find it funny that the only son who followed my instruction of 'just at least tuck your shirt in, was the son with the elastic waistband pants.

Thankfully, four of the five children are a little further in developing their 'smile even though you don't want to' skill.

Better luck next week, I guess.

4 - He never even saw me there.

Timothy has been writing stories non stop lately, and it takes all of his concentration. He'll sit there quietly breaking apart words and writing all the sounds he hears into sentences that are still a little hard to decipher.

5 - Give a girl a darling coat and a great hat and you'll never know she's still in her pajamas.

I often pull Eliza straight out of bed to take Timothy to school but, unlike me, she seems to love being pulled from her bed. The second she awakes, she bounces to her feet talking and chattering about tares (stairs), and bae-bee (baby), and her bee-kee (blanket), about the hot (her space heater), and the yight (light), and Cah-sn and Mi-juls and Kee-Kay and Kee-Kee (Carson, Miles, TK, and Kenzie). The girl doesn't stop talking from the moment she wakes up until the moment she falls back asleep.

But we're not here to talk about her chatter habits. We're here to talk about how dang coot she looks in her k-oh-t and hhatt (always said with a smile).

Disney - Day 3

I'd like to say Eliza will let anyone hold her. That she's gentle and kind and loving and happy to spread her love to all those wanting a piece of it. But she's a bit lot more cautious than that. She tends to feel rather unsafe in new situations or when new people are hovering around her. And she needs to be gently and frequently reassured that everything is okay. So I wasn't really sure how it was going to go, leaving her with my parents through the days while Brian and I scampered off to stand in lines.

But thankfully my parents are amazing and Eliza felt secure and loved in their arms.

Riley, on the other hand, was adorably unhappy whenever she was taken from her mother.

Look at that cute little face!

But, regardless of how the babies felt in the moment of separation, Mom and Dad were amazing at taking them anyway. And it was awesome to go on the bigger rides with my other kids.

You might notice Miles in the front of this log, and you might recognize that he is on his way up to the giant drop of Splash Mountain, and you might see that his eyes look bright and excited.

This is noteworthy, people.

Miles has not been particularly fond of roller coasters throughout his life (read: he has hated them with an intense passion like only Miles can), but that first day in Disney we pushed and pulled and pleaded with him to just try Space Mountain (because it was (a highly motivating) Star Wars themed), and eventually he consented, albeit rather begrudgingly.

This was great! I thought. But halfway through the ride I changed my thoughts to this was a terrible idea. The ride was much darker, much louder, and much faster than I had remembered it being and I was certain that by taking him on that ride, I had just solidified his determination to NEVER let roller coasters be a part of his life. Ever.

Another reason why this was a terrible idea occupied my thoughts was that I had sweet little 5-year-old Timothy by my side, currently experiencing his first roller coaster ride, and as the G's pushed me into my seat and whipped my body around I knew I must have been scarring not just one, but two of my children. Timothy had been excited and easy to convince to try it out - but since he had had no previous reference or conceptions about roller coasters, that wasn't particularly noteworthy.

I couldn't see either child, Miles was a few carts back with McKenzie and Timothy was covered in the blanket of darkness that validates the 'Space' in 'Space Mountain'. I couldn't hear either child either, the music of the ride was blaring in my ears loudly enough to drown out any other sounds. But I reached over and squeezed Timothy's knee to let him know that I was there, and I tried to whoop and holler over the music to let him hear that I was having a good time, thereby hopefully giving him permission to do the same.

And just then, when I was expecting to feel his hand death grip onto mine, I felt it bump right into my cheek instead and I realized, he's got his hands up in the air! I listened closer and could make out laughter coming from his seat - my heart and smile exploded!

As we pulled back into the loading/unloading zone I looked at his bright face and said, "Well?!?!"

He had no words but, as my brother who was sitting behind him said, "Those two little fists that shot up into the air" in response to the question told the whole story.

I whipped around to see if I could read Miles's thoughts and saw him climbing out of the car, eyes and body full of that unmistakable adrenaline and adventure high, and I knew that the future of being a human now looked much brighter for Miles.

They were both hooked, for good.

Eliza, on the other hand, was still a little unsure of anything that seemed to move without her anticipation of it. But the Winnie the Pooh ride happened to be right next to Splash Mountain, so while Nana and Poppy waited for us to come through Splash Mountain on that third day, they took Eliza into the magical world of Pooh and she fell in love with it. They went through it s.e.v.e.r.a.l times while they waited. And then she went on it s.e.v.e.r.a.l more times with me.

Enjoy your delightful Winnie the Pooh ride now, love. But get ready for the big roller coasters. You're the last one in the family to convert.

Family vacations are interesting now that we have teenagers and toddlers all in the same bunch. It's difficult to find something where everyone is happy. But Disney provides that magic. We let the big kids run off and enjoy the park by themselves for a few hours, and the three of them had a fabulous time. And while they were off on the big rides, we took the littles to Fantasy Land - which was where Eliza found all the dreamiest rides. She loved Dumbo, don't let her face fool you.

And she loved the carousel, too. That stone-faced love is real, I promise.

And she loved waiting in the lines, too. She's a happy child, really.

One of my favorite things, and I might have said this before, is watching other people watch Eliza. Whenever we're in a crowded space, I know I can look around and find at least one person watching her with a smile on their face. She's had hundreds and hundreds of admirers throughout her short little life and I can't count the number of times I've heard, "She is such a doll," followed up with "No, really, she actually looks like a baby doll." I love watching it brighten people's days just to look at her. I know that most of her magnetism is because of that beautiful little face, but looks aside, she is a beautiful person and she makes me want to be the kind of person who shares so much light that I brighten people's days like that.

Riley also seemed to enjoy waiting in all the lines. As long as her Mama was holding her.

If anyone else tried to hold her, her eyes would well up with the cutest little baby tears and tear drops as big as her eyeballs would start falling down her cheeks. This girl knows how to cry! Even when she was a newborn in the hospital, her tears were real, and if you've never seen a newborn cry a cry with tears, it's something to see! Most babies don't start producing tears until much, much later, but Riley is advanced that way.

So anyway, we did split up for a few hours on the last day, but mostly we were together.

And we like it that way.

On another note, Disney with teenagers is weird these days.

I'm so grumpy about the way phones are taking over our lives. I have lots of rules and even more guidelines about appropriate usage of phones, but it's a fight... always a fight. When I contrast the picture above with the picture below everything about the way phones pull us out of our lives crystallizes in my mind.

Solidarity, moms. Let's force our kids to talk with people.

And can I tell one more thing? My Carson... I don't have many pictures of that kid because he's always moving so dang fast, but I was so impressed with him throughout this vacation. He was always working to include all of his siblings, respectfully went along with whatever was happening, and never once complained - even when he was wet and freezing cold after Splash Mountain at sunset happened. That kid is so incredible.

It was a fun vacation, and one of the greatest lessons I learned through being with my family for several days is that heavenly Father knew what he was doing when he placed us in families. They give us a platform to love unconditionally, to work on differences, to support and to listen and to strengthen.

I love these people.