C'est Moi!

(Photography assignment: Take a self portrait that tells us something about you)

Not everyone gets to wake up on the morning of their birthday to find a tick embedded in their leg.

A TICK!!!

The first time I heard about these blood sucking creatures was when I was a teenager in a camp-preparation meeting where they warned us that ticks were hiding in the bushes and trees ('so don't get too close to a bush if you're peeing on it' was their warning), and that leeches were lurking in the lake. I was terrified, and a little obsessive about checking myself for the unwanted parasites. My sister got one at camp that year...on the top of her shoulder where her hair fell. I felt sorry for her, but secretly felt glad it was her and not me.

Even when we moved to North Carolina, I've managed to escape the ticks. Our friends have had plenty, McKenzie has had two, but I have had none - - - until my birthday, that is. Right on the outside of my thigh.

Oh no. No, no, no. I thought to myself the moment I spotted it. Are you freakin' KIDDING me?

You could say that I have a slight wimpishness when it comes to killing bugs. I don't like the way it sounds, and I don't like the way it feels. When McKenzie had a tick on the back of her ear, we waited hours until Daddy came home, 'cause Mama just couldn't handle it. But here I was faced with a grim reality: I could spend my whole entire birthday with a tick in my leg, or I could grab it with a pair of tweezers and get it out, knowing full well that I would probably end up crushing the life out of it. Neither option sounded like a true winner.

In the end, I decided it would be best to get it out - so I summoned up my courage and recalled some research I had done on it last year. Some of my favorite lines from the webpage I remembered were,

"Do not be alarmed if the tick's mouthparts remain in the skin..."
(What the WHAT? I do NOT want any 'mouthparts' in my skin, thank you very much!)

"Throw the dead tick away with the household trash."

(Whew...I was hoping they'd have disposal directions...)

And then, this picture:

Well, there was a lot of muttering under my breath, 'stupid, disgusting tick, this is crappy, crappy tick'...but in the end, I was successful. I even managed to keep the mouthparts attached to the tick instead of me! I only had one freak-out moment which resulted in me dropping the tweezers with a startled yelp. Who knew that when I grabbed the tick's body, all eight of it's legs would move?! Disgustingly terrifying, if you ask me.

Thankfully, the day could only get better from there. I came out into the kitchen and was greeted by beautiful roses, a birthday banner, balloons and streamers - - - it was obvious that my sweet hubby had gotten up extra early before work.

And, it was great to pull the birthday card for an entire day. Whenever a fight broke out between the kids, all I would have to do is start singing, "Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me..." and the fighting would grudgingly stop. I learned a very important lesson that day about those kids: they do know what I want!


How long do you think it would take them to catch on if I put up balloons once a month and told them it was my birthday?

Greatness

It's okay if you pause for a moment and take in his handsomeness. :) This man is a happy-maker. Carefree, laid back, down-to-earth, honest, and 100% genuine. A fellow medical friend once said of Brian, "You know what one of the greatest things about him is? He's just Brian. You see him at church, he's Brian. You see him walking though the hospital, he's Brian. You bump into him at Kroger, he's Brian."

I'm so lucky to be married to a man who treats everyone with kindness; who doesn't hesitate to sing the wrong lyrics at the top of his lungs; who enjoys putting the kids to bed at night; who makes friends wherever he goes; who will often be found totally submerged underneath a blanket while telling a story to two giggling kids; who thinks logically and clearly through anything; and who loves me so unconditionally, I never question.

Happy 30th Birthday, love. I truly am the luckiest.

Priority Shift

It's the summer of 1998. I'm 16 years old and sandwiched between two of my favorite young women leaders in the cab of an old beat-up truck. We're on our way to girls camp and they're listening intently to me as I tell them about my boy problems. I feel safe, loved, secure, and absolutely excited to be spending a few days and nights up in the mountains of Utah with some of the best women I know.

It wasn't until about halfway through the 4-hour drive that I noticed it. Quickly doing a double-take, I confirmed my fear and felt a rush of embarrassment for my leader. She must not know... I figure. Oh, how embarrassing.

Hair. Blond hair, half an inch long and sticking straight out from her bare knee. It looked as if she hadn't shaved in 5 whole days! And, she was wearing shorts! I vowed to not let it affect our conversation and silently imagined her terror once she figured it out.

------------------


It's March 2010. I've had a busy day. I made all the beds, tidied all the rooms, read a sparkly firefly book to my baby, showered, finished washing the dishes, vacuumed my floors, did the laundry, played trains with my son, chopped down a row of bushes outside, raked the leaves, read a few chapters in my book, helped my daughter with her homework, and had a hot dinner on the table when my husband walked in the door at 6:00.

As we sat down to dinner I quickly looked at the clock. One hour before I need to be at the church for Young Womens. After dinner, I had 10 minutes to get ready before heading out the door. I glanced in the mirror and did a quick assessment. No makeup; mud-stained T-shirt and jeans...from chopping down the bushes, no doubt; and hair falling out of a loose pony tail. Oh dear. Well, I thought, I've gotta pee, I should put some fresh clothes on, and hopefully I'll have time to throw on some mascara. I finished my priority list, and even had a minute left over to attempt to cover up the dark circles under my eyes. As for my hair - - - well, that was just going to have to be ignored.

Taking one last look in the mirror, I smiled to myself as I remembered my own Young Women leader 11 years ago. You know, she probably did know that her legs weren't as smooth as silk.

I bet she didn't care.

(I took the first picture off of my parents back deck in 2004. I'm pretty sure it was the first picture I ever kept that didn't have a person in it! The second picture was taken last month off the same deck.)

6 Years and 7 Princesses

I remember my 6th birthday. I got a scooter, and it was just warm enough to ride it around the cul-de-sac outside...it felt like I stayed out there for hours. It's a fun memory - but it scares me a little bit because I realize that McKenzie could very well remember today, or tomorrow, or yesterday for the rest of her life. Is that thought scary to anyone else!?

Well, who knows if she will remember her 6th birthday or not, but she definitely had a good time. :)

This past year with her has been one of my favorites. Kindergarten has turned her into a soaring butterfly - and she's beginning to capture the vision that she can fly as high as she wants. Her self-confidence has blossomed! And because of it, she is developing strengths in friendship-building, quick learning, speaking her mind, curiosity, independence, and boldness in exploring new ideas. This same self-confidence, however, brings challenges too. She's having trouble exploring her independence within the boundaries of home rules, and the level of sympathy she once felt for others has diminished. I feel these things will all equalize, and I will happily take the challenges that come with self-confidence as opposed to those that come with low self-confidence.

As always, she doesn't like cake. (I know. I've failed somewhere.) It's getting harder and harder to find a suitable dessert that she will love (cookies and brownies are also a no-go), but this year I threw a bunch of her favorite things together and came up with this beauty! I still have yet to coin a name for it...oreos, chocolate-chip mint ice cream, ganach topping, hot fudge and caramel.


Her birthday party was a couple days later. Seven beautiful princesses from her school class came to celebrate.


We painted their fingernails and sparkled their faces with a little blue eye-shadow and shiny lip-gloss...


...played some princess games like Poison Apple (hot potato)...


...magic wand ring pass...


...kiss the frog...


...princess and the pea...


...and ate ice cream cake.

After it was all over, McKenzie said "That was AW-SOME!"

*smile*

Utah! People working together! Utah! What a great place to be!

Anyone who recognizes the song in the title gets 10 points. Anyone who has personal memories of this song, cheesy actions, and Swiss Days gets 287 points. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, consider yourself blessed...heaven help anyone who remembers watching the 'big girls' in back.

Anyway, the reason for this post:

WE'RE COMING TO UTAH!!!

We made a last minute flight purchase inspired by the good people at Southwest Airlines who believe traveling to Utah with 4 paying passengers should not require half of your annual income. We won't be staying for as long as we'd like (curse those responsibilities!), but we'd love to see as many of you as possible.

After splitting up the time between our two families, we have a few free hours on Wednesday morning (yes, this coming Wednesday, the 17th), from 9:00 till noon where we'd love to see any and all who can come up at my parents' house for brunch.

Shoot me an e-mail if you think you'll be able to make it, and let me know if you need directions to my parents' house. (If you don't have my e-mail address, feel free to leave a comment here with your RSVP.)

Can't wait to see you!

*About the picture at the top: Can I tell you how much I love my photography class!? I took this in response to the homework assignment, "Take a picture of something demonstrative of beauty." When it was time to evaluate mine, the teacher took a vote on how many people thought it demonstrated beauty, and how many people did not. One of the old men who said he did not think it demonstrated beauty said with a smile, "Well, it's not something I'd hang over my mantle, if you know what I mean." Ahhhh...refreshing honesty! (What??? You don't like the gnarly old tree branch sticking through the corner???)

Might as well call me grandma...

...cause that's what I felt like while I was trying to navigate through Facebook earlier today. And, you wanna watch me type a text message? Pull up a good thick cushion and get comfy. I'll have your 5 word sentence out before you can say, "I can't believe it's taking you so long to write such a tiny sentence. Your fingers look like they're full of lead, and you really should think about putting some lotion on them...they are UG-LY!!! Speaking of ugly, I saw this old, scraggly three-legged cat on the side of the road eating a mouse today. It was kind of weird, 'cause I had just watched this documentary about wild lions in Africa and, you know, since cats and lions are part of the same family and all, it totally made me think of that - though, I'm pretty sure a cat couldn't take down a zebra...especially if the cat only had three legs! Wouldn't it be weird if we had three legs? We could, like, invent so many awesome new sports! Soccer would be .... oh! You're finished!"

So, you may be wondering why I'm thinking so much about texting and facebook right now. Well, you see, I've been called to the Young Womens organization in our church, and that means I'll be working directly with a bunch of 12-18 year old girls. I was shocked when I saw that the four questions the Young Women secretary needed from me were:

1) When is your birthday?
2) What is your cell number?
3) Do you text?
4) Are you on Facebook?

Oh boy.

I fear that facebook will start consuming my life...poking and gifting and gaming, and what the devil is Farmville? Remember how I just posted about finally being able to let things go? I can't help but feel like I'm going in the opposite direction, here. And, what about pictures? It seems a little redundant to put pictures up on the blog AND on facebook...do you do that?

Keeping up with status updates alone is a little overwhelming to me. It seems like every time I refresh my browser there are 3 more on there. If I don't check it for *gasp* a whole day, I'm dead meat... Does anyone want to guess how long I was just parked here on the couch surfing through facebook? 2 hours. HOURS. TWO of them!!! Did I mention the fact that I am literally sitting on a pile of laundry? (The couch is covered so I would fold it before I sat. Guess it didn't work.) Am I doing something wrong? Facebook and I have never meshed well. I've tried it valiantly two different times, and it almost seemed like I was adding another child into my life. There are just too many people to keep up with...too many lives to keep track of.

I guess I'm just concerned I won't be able to do it all when I have this cute little guy to keep up with...


...and this sweet 6-year-olds birthday party to blog about...


...and when I have to convince this little guy that he's not actually a princess, even though he is wearing the lip-gloss...


This is my life! This is what I want to be my life! Hmmmm....sounds like I'm babbling and floundering a little here. (This is what I call brain-vomit. Spitting everything out without editing or much thinking. Good for you for keeping up with me to this point!)

I guess it means it's time to find a new balance.

Any facebook lovers who have some advice on how NOT to let it consume your life?

Well, it's about time I start getting into the here-and-now. I guess if I don't keep up, I'll never be able to catch-up when my kids are old enough to be going through it. I have a feeling facebook and texting are only the beginning......

Snowstorm in all it's perfection

I've figured it out. The perfect snowstorm.

It starts with plenty of warning so you can stock your fridge and pantry with extra milk, cheese, eggs, formula, fruit and vegetables to carry you through the following week. The temperatures are soaring in the upper 40's and 50's the day before the first flake so you can send the kids outside to play while you check all the flashlight batteries and restock your fresh water supply. The snowstorm starts on a Friday evening...after the kids and hubbies are all safe in the home, but early enough that you can go catch a few snowflakes on your tongue and build a miniature snowman. It then snows all Friday night and you wake up early Saturday morning to a fresh, beautiful, sparkling landscape. A 9-inch thick blanket of white that covers everything you see in a quiet stillness.

You live in a place where snow is rarely experienced, and temperatures fluctuate above and below the freezing point often enough that the danger of ice becomes real...and everyone bows to the power of nature. Plans are rescheduled, shops are closed, and church is canceled...leaving you with a full weekend to enjoy the beauty and thrill of the snow without interruption. The powerful sun starts working almost immediately after the storm - seemingly embarrassed it let things get so cold - and the winter landscape slowly starts to melt into a memory.

It only took me 120 pictures to finally get one with the drop falling (ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY!!!) So, even though the drop is out of focus, I still want you to be impressed.

In the short meantime, you comfortably sled down your icy road (you don't even have to dig out your sleds, because cookie sheets work just fine.)



You drink lots of hot chocolate. You have friends over for homemade pizza,

then drive 25 mph to their house the next night for homemade soup and apple pie. You ignore the pile of coats, hats, gloves and scarves that are piled up at your back door. You hunker down inside and play games on Daddy's 'i-pad'.


You eat a lot of snow.

As you tuck the kids under their warm blankets you can't stop thinking about the three inch layer of ice that covers the road in front of your house...and when you come out of the kids' room, your handsome hubby already has his tread-worn shoes on his feet, ready for skating. You fall in love again as you hang onto his arm while you skate up and down the road in the quiet darkness.

You simply enjoy what's left and sadly admit that it's probably better to end a situation when you're still having fun. That way, the memories are all sweet, and you look forward with nothing but excitement towards the next perfect snowstorm.