Biggest Fans

This took forever to upload. . . so view with caution.

(it is just some commentary from Christian and Tanner's biggest fans. . . Hyrum & Sam)

On Your Mark, Get Set, Go!

Before loading up in the car to head to the racing grounds I gave the kids a pre-race pep talk. Sam was worried if he fell or didn't win. I explained that this race was "just for fun." For racing the kids got a free Subway Sandwich and each runner received a medal. I overhead Christian say, "I've been dreaming about getting a medal."

Well, dreams do come true.

Christian and Tanner did such a great job racing. 2nd grade was combined with the 3rd grade, so I was completely surprised to see Christian amongst the first 15 runners. WOW!! Tanner wasn't too far behind. Their faces were flushed but they both were glowing and proud to have finished the race!!

Olympic Hopefuls?

Can't you just see these faces on a Wheaties box someday? Okay, maybe not, but in my book they were all little Olympians. Today the kids participated in the Birch Tree Jamboree. It was a race for all elementary kids in the Anchorage School District. They divided the kids into age groups and had them run different courses through some beautiful wooded trails. The Kindergarten boys ran .7 mile and the 2/3 grade boys ran 1.1 miles. Hyrum was a great little cheerleader. Here are the boys before and after pictures.

False Start

Sam just as confident as can be. . .

Crowded by the competition and waiting for the race (one of those moments that I just should NOT have asked how he was doing. his face said it all. his lip was quivering and his eyes were full of doubt and fear. and i didn't even get out, "Sam are . . . " when the tears started pouring down his face.)




Eric and I traded places since I was not about to run the race with him . . .




Sam's personal race was the equivalent of a 50 yard dash . . . but we were thrilled that he tried.

He said that next time he'll do it all on his own.

Ninnies

I need to vent for about fifteen seconds. The doctors here are Ninnies. Whimps. Silly. Crazy. NON-INDUCING Maniacs. Phew, I said it. I'm done.

As you can tell my doctor's appointment today didn't go as planned. I was fully expecting to lay out my master birth plan (which really only consisted of PLEASE induce me next week and I DEFINITELY want an epidural) and have the doc give the okay. . . or at least entertain the idea.

But no. No induction date for me. No deadline in sight. My OB had a family emergency come up and is flying out of town tomorrow and will be gone until next Saturday. Ugh! Bummer. What do you do? I'm just hoping this baby isn't the 9 1/2+ pounder that Hyrum was. Cross your fingers for me.

Caster Oil anyone?

Making Sense

I don't think I realized how sensitive I was to my own super senses until after I was married. Everyday I would come home to our little apartment on NAU Campus and just couldn't figure out what was wrong. For several days something felt like it was just itching at my nerves. And then one day, wallah, I took these hideous little Snowmen (a wedding gift) off the wall and threw them away. Ahhh! Instant relief. That was it! The purple, red, and pink clashing scarves were just too much and out of sight. . . off my mind (and nerves).

One night, when we were in our Deer Crossing Flagstaff house I could hear the fuse box rattling in the wind against the bedroom wall right above our bed. As hard as I tried I just couldn't ignore the sound. Eric, when brought to his attention, could hear it but easily rolled over and went to sleep. So around midnight, I threw a coat over my pajamas, slipped on Eric's boots, and went trudging outside in 10 degree weather and three feet of snow with a flashlight and duct tape in hand. I went to town on this poor little Fuse Box. . . and it never made another sound.

Eric does not share my same curse. A year later the refrigerator in that same house would buzz loudy when cooling. Eric would compassionately tell me, "I know what we can do (hooray, I thought. . . at this point I had tried everything). . . live with it." We finally ended up getting a new fridge. Eric would blame my super senses. . . but I would say any obvious person would notice when he accidentally added cinnamon rather than cumin to a mexican dish.

This new Alaska home hasn't been bad. I WD-40 the squeeky doors after we moved in, the stove has a slight hum, and we have one light in the kitchen that after warming up looses its buzz. . . but I haven't noticed anything I couldn't live with.

So on Monday I came home from riding to school with the boys. When I walked into the living room I heard these terrible rattling, rumbling sounds. My heart faltered. We have yet to really turn on the heat which happens to be radiant floor board heating upstairs . . . and not being familiar with that type of heating was devastated to realize that I would need to gear up for a very loud and rumbly winter. Ugh!! I neurotically ran from wall to wall trying to figure out where the rattling was coming from. What is a pipe? Was it the heater units themselves? I felt and listened to every heater to see if which one was guilty. But nothing. I was trying to decide just how loud I would have to turn on the music so I wouldn't become a basket case. Can I tell you how disheartened I was to learn this about the house I love? Oh, I was so sad. Was I going to have to wear Ear Muffs all winter?

A few minutes later I mosied on downstairs to put in a load of laundry. And what did I notice? The fan in the boys bathroom had been left on. Instant jubilation!! I rushed to turn it off and raced (okay waddled) upstairs. And what did I hear? Nothing. Peace. Quiet. No rumbles, no rattles. For the rest of the day, everytime I heard something, I couldn't help but smile at how worked up I had gotten over the bathroom fan.

(Recently I had an earache. I complained to my OB who graciously took a look for me. And what could she see? Wax, and lots of it!!! About 10 years ago I had this same problem. So I went and got them cleaned out. Every now and then when I hear a sound and ask Eric about it, he'll mention that I should have just left the wax in there! (ironically it didn't effect my hearing at all).)

Fall Faces

I'm just in love with the red bushes in front of our house. I was afraid earlier this week that if I didn't take the boys pictures I might miss the opportunity all together. . . so I hauled them out there on Tuesday and took their pictures in the rain. Well worth the effort.

Fantastic Fall

Today was a perfect Fall Day. Crisp, cool, cloudy. . .

A Fluke of a Puke

I haven't puked in months. . . but this morning, while making breakfast for the boys no less, all of those familiar feelings of nausea and wooze came over me and I quickly found myself at the kitchen sink. While taking care of business I overheard Christian say to his brothers, "Oh, not this AGAIN." My sentiments exactly.

FYI: After a quick stint on the couch I have felt much better. To Tanner's credit he did offer to stay home from school and take care of me which was sweet and kind. But in the spirit of academia, I encourage him to go and get 100% on that spelling test we've been studying for all week.

My Heart Took A Picture

Last night Tanner turned to me during our 20 minutes of reading and said, "Mom, I LOVE to read!"

Right then my heart took a picture. Not only because of the sweet moment but because of the milestone it represents. Last night I really ENJOYED listening to Tanner read.

(I don't know if you've seen the movie Go Towards the Light (a real tear jerker but a favorite of mine). The mother in the movie speaks of how during precious moments in her child's life her heart takes a picture.)

For those of you who don't know reading (child out loud to parent) at our house can be Painful! Torturous! Brutal! And can call upon all the powers of Patience and Long Suffering that exist in the natural world and beyond. You want to know what I asked Eric for my birthday? A night off of reading. Seriously. Don't get me wrong, Christian and Tanner are amazing. They can ride their bikes without hands, do back flips on the trampoline, play soccer like no other little boys I've seen. They are kind, loving, thoughtful, and silly. They love to snuggle and to be read to. They love to look at Zoobooks, to sing songs, to pretend, and to play games. They are smart little boys whose abilities to read thus far unfortunately wouldn't rate them on the national top ten list. But we realize in full honesty, that these two have always tackled life on their own timetable. . . and I have been fervently praying that someday, prefereably before they entered middle school, that I could snuggle up with one of them in their bed and listen to them read without cringing as they sloppily slaughter or struggle through every other sentence.

Last night I not only saw but heard HOPE. Hope in his declaration, "I LOVE reading." Hope in his fluency and ability to read. Hope in that the pages of the book were turning faster than I had ever seen before. Hope in my personal enjoyment AND in his. Hope in the realization that I hadn't glanced at my watch at the usual rate of once a minute. Hope that reading with one of my little boys, at least occassionally, could become one of the best parts of my day!

Thermostat In Overdrive

Driving home from Anchorage today (we had Stake Conference) we noticed that the mountain tops were just covered in snow. WOW!! Scary to think that winter is just around the corner . . . but with this big belly my temperature gage is way off its norm. I was outside talking to a neighbor today in short sleeves and bare feet and was still hot. During our church meetings I kept dipping my hand in my water bottle and then rubbing it on my neck and forehead. I think I am running "baby" hot and sick hot too. But poor Eric came up to me this evening and asked, "Hey, when there is snow on the mountains do you think we could turn the heat on to 65?" The poor man has been freezing to death. Even now as I type, I just saw him roll over and turn on his electric blanket AND I'm contemplating taking a cold shower!

Sunset

I was reading to Sam tonight and looked up to see the most beautiful sunset. I can't remember the last time I saw a sunset (seeing that we have so much light here they almost don't exist or happen so late they go unnoticed. . . but soon we'll be enjoying them around 3 p.m.). It was spectacular and I went out on the back deck to just soak up the beauty of something so simple but rare.

Friday Fiasco

Warning this is Long and Ugly (a.k.a. true confessions of Stephanie):

Friday was one of those days. It started with a scratchy throat. "Uh-Oh," I thought, but the day was planned and I was really looking forward to it. Eric had mentioned that for his birthday he wanted to go as a family to the temple. So I called early that morning and made appointments for me to participate in initiatories at 6:15 and Eric to do an endowment at 8:00. (When living in AZ we did family temple trips a lot since the temple was 2 hours away. We would all drive over to Snowflake as a family. Whoever had the first shift with the kids would take them to dinner and then the 2nd person would watch a movie on the laptop with them in the car. It was a pretty slick arrangement and the kids have always, always LOVED it!!!)

Well, I took a well deserved nap in the afternoon to gear up for the late evening. But I woke up feeling worse and realizing that my scratchy sore throat was evolving into a headcold. Oh well. Little did I realize just how much this sore throat, lack of sleep, and high expectations were going to effect me.

My first clue to a disastrous evening should have been when I was listening to my cell phone messages on the way to Anchorage. I should back up. . . when moving up here we stayed in several hotels taking with us the beloved Graco Pack 'N Play. This was THE pack 'n play of choice. I had searched it out . . . waited it for it to go on sale. . . and loved it because it was just the perfect colors. . . and have used it with every bacon baby. Long story short we left it in a hotel room in Oregon. Upon noticing our mistake I called and they said it wasn't there. I emailed the manager but never got a response. Just last week I finally gave up the dream and threw away the bassinet parts--oh how that was hard--but i figured with baby bacon #5 i would just have to end up buying a new one after all. Well one of my two voice messages (by the way, thanks for the birthday message Greg) was the hotel manager calling to ask what we wanted them to do with the pack 'n play. Ugh!! It was terrible. I know it is just a Pack 'N Play. . . but it made me surprisingly sad (I can usually just laugh something like this right off). I should have clued into the fact that I wasn't emotionally stable right then and there and surrendered all emotional accountability.

Well, I tried just tried gearing up for a great evening. But unfortunately we made a wrong turn which took us a few extra minutes to correct and I ended up being about three minutes late to the temple. By that time they had filled my spot in the initiatories. I was devastated and had to fight the urge to just sit down and cry. Luckily I was able to participate in Sealings and enjoyed that and just the peace that the temple provides. . . but my heart was just a little sadden that I had not made it there on time.

Now it is 7:30 and Eric and I traded places. . . in passing he mentions that the kids have way too much energy and are more than anxious to start the movie. I quickly jumped in the car and headed to McDonalds because I wanted a shake for my throat and then wanted Subway. I then realized that I didn't have any money and Eric had taken his wallet with him inside the temple. I managed to scrounge up $1.90 in NICKLES. . . enough to buy me a small shake which I had to wait 20 minutes for (overall we have noticed that the McDonald's staff here in AK have a little bit to be desired).

Back in the temple parking lot I boot up Eric's computer (mine met with misfortune in Seattle and ever since the DVD player hasn't worked). Then to my horror the password screen pops up. I try EVERYTHING. All the usual standby passwords, the family password, Portuguese words he uses. The kids offer their suggestions and I'm desperate enough to try them. Nothing. In their sweetness they offer a prayer (which I truly believed helped but not in obtaining the password).

So what do you do when you have two hours to kill? I debated driving home (which in retrospect I should have done) but opted to find a park. We quickly found a park with a small playground and a tire swing (that I believe was an answer to our earlier prayer because parks here are often strips of grass and a bench). The kids happily played for about an hour and then it started to get dark and cold. So at 9 p.m. we headed back to the temple parking lot. where we told fairy tales stories and the kids romped around in the car.

You know how you gear yourself for "Dad" to come home at Five . . . at 4:59 you are doing great. 5:05 passes and you are still holding it together. but by 5:15 you've lost it. you've clocked out. you need him home. it is almost like you've paced yourself all day long for this event of dad coming home, adult conversation, help with the kids, a change in the dynamics of home life. . . and then when it doesn't happen things just start crashing. . . your patience is gone, your spontaneity is lost. . .

I think that is what happened to me on Friday. I was tired, I was sick, I was hungry but I was holding it together. I was sure that Eric was receiving my telepathic vibes that life wasn't going as planned and that I NEEDED him to hurry out of the temple. I had told myself 9:30. . . 9:45 at the latest. Surely he'd be out by then. So when the patrons started filing out the front doors at 9:30 I was sure that every man in a white shirt was Eric. And when it wasn't I was sure he was going to be the next person. . . and he wasn't, and he wasn't, and he wasn't. And I began to crash. I know this is totally irrational. . . but those were really my thoughts. By the time he made it to the van it was just after 10. . . long past my personal emotional limit (not to mention the kids and especially Sam who was begging to go home and go to bed). It was all I could do to gesture for Eric to start the car and head home.

Funny how you just have those days. I suppose they really make you appreciate feeling rested days, the healthy days, the feeling full days, the ready to tackle the world days, the expectations met days, the made it where i was going on time days, the emotionally sound and rearing for adventure days, and just the normal days.

Alaska Weather

The "old" seminary teacher here forwarded this in an email. . . it made us both chuckle:

For a good laugh, Almost True

60 above zero:Floridians turn on the heat.
People in Alaska plant gardens.

50 above zero:Californians shiver uncontrollably.
People in Eagle River sunbathe.

40 above zero:Italian & English cars won't start.
People in Alaska drive with the windows down.

32 above zero:Distilled water freezes.
The water in Eagle River gets thicker.

20 above zero:Floridians don coats, thermal underwear, gloves, wool hats.
People in Alaska throw on a flannel shirt.

15 above zero:New York landlords finally turn up the heat.
People in Alaska have the last cookout before it gets cold.

Zero:People in Miami all die.
Alaskans close the windows.

10 below zero:Californians fly away to Mexico
People in Alaska get out their winter coats.

25 below zero:Hollywood disintegrates.
The Girl Scouts in Eagle River are selling cookies door to door.

40 below zero:Washington DC runs out of hot air.
People in Alaska let the dogs sleep indoors.

100 below zero:Santa Claus abandons the North Pole.
Alaskans get upset because they can't start the Mini-Van.

460 below zero:ALL atomic motion stops (absolute zero on the Kelvin scale.
People in Alaska start saying..."Cold 'nuff fer ya?"

500 below zero:Hell freezes over.
Anchorage School District will open 2 hours late.

Bangled Star

I overhead the boys talking yesterday while eating their after-school-snack. Tanner was asking Sam what song he was learning in music class. Sam proudly declared,

"The Bangled Star!"

(I believe which translates to be The Star Spangled Banner. . . but when you are in Kindergarten it is probably a BANGLE of big and confusing words.)

Sitting with Sam

Yesterday I made Burritos and decided to go and have lunch with Sam at school. Hy and I found him sitting at a table surrounded by girls (he was the ONLY boy at the table). It was fun to see his face light up when he saw us and he quickly said goodbye to the lady friends and found a new seat by me and Hyrum. I don't know what I expect at moments like this. . . perhaps music playing in the background or conversation other than "do I really have to eat this?". . . but it was good. I got to meet a couple of Sam's new friends and was impressed that they have five minutes of silent eating so that the kids, the majority of who until that time having been talking and talking and talking, realize that they are actually there to EAT! Last night when I was tucking Sam into bed and talking with him he said, "Thanks for coming to my school mom and eating lunch with me. That was the favorite part of my day. Do you think you could come again?" For something that is so simple, yet obviously meant something to my little boy, I responded, "You Bet!"

Slowly Getting Found

While waiting for an OB appointment, I was reading a magazine called Wondertime. I found an article that really interested me perhaps because it was so applicable to the morning madness, the bedtime blitz, and the Sunday sprint which despite valiant effort and preplanning and postplanning seem to ever creep back into our lives. The articles focus was on slowing down, enjoying the moment, and forsaking the frenzy to rush things along. A source it sited several times was Carl Honore's book In Praise of Slowness. So I came home and put it on hold (I love the hold system here because they will actually go and PULL any book you request in any of the 7 libraries and send it to a location of your choice). I have found the subject fascinating. Perhaps I like it because it confirms what I already truly believe. . . that less is more in so many ways. . . that there is an undeniable beauty and energy in simplicity. . . that slow (other than in the card game nerts) can triumph fast.

I remember hearing Marjorie Pay Hinckley speak once on motherhood. She commented that one of the best things she did as a mother was to let her boy wander the forest during the summers allowing him to get lost in thought and to discover who he truly is. I love that idea. I think as a society we sign up for things so that we can define what we are and forget about who we are.

Perhaps that is why I haven't signed C&T up for Karate yet . . . with the Fall weather there are too many opportunities to play and get lost in their childhood. Perhaps that is why there are piles of pictures that haven't been hung yet. . . there are too many books to enjoy, too many moments to just sit on the couch and look at the views and get lost or better yet get found. Perhaps it is all an excuse to be lazy. . . but perhaps not.

Disclaimer: I had several friends post comments or email about the book "In Praise of Slowness" in which I responded with a disclaimer about a particular story, a skipped chapter (easily discerned by reading the chapter heading) and our censored reading of it. So be forewarned! I tend to read only the chapters in ANY self-improvement book that interest me.

Happy Hyrum

Hyrum discovered that his pants had pockets.

He walked around like this all day long.

Hy loves to line things up (blocks, "bad guys", trains)

Today it happened to be cups.

Pudding. . . Yum!

Hyrum helping Eric find Christmas Presents for his brothers on Craigslist.com (our new favorite used shopping site--since shipping to AK is so expensive).

Angie and I were talking today about how much we are enjoying our little ones now that they are the only ones at home and the changes we've seen in them. I have to admit that as the school year approached I was a little nervous that Hyrum would demand more of me as an entertainer with his brothers gone. But much to my surprise, it has been the opposite. Hyrum is content to entertain himself and probably enjoys free reign over the toys. He will spend hours playing with the trainset his grandparents gave us or his brother's playmobil or just roaming the house. He will sit through several books at a time and even reads books to himself. He is a great little helper putting all the silverware in the dishwasher for me or pouring the flour into the mixer. What a blessing it is to be home with a happy Hyrum.

• Today I was trying to tempt Hyrum into coming into the kitchen to have lunch. I asked if he wanted a sandwich and I heard him holler, "No thank you." For a second it sounded so grown up and I thought it just could have been Sam (except Sam was at school). I offered him several other things (yogurt, pudding) to which I got several, "No thank you."

• This weekend we were having a family movie night--complete with Eric's famous popcorn. There was an obvious villain at which Hyrum would periodically yell, "Bad choices. Mama, he makes bad choices." Always good to know that your two-year-old can discern right from wrong . . . now if I could get him to clean the bathrooms!

36 weeks BABY!

A few friends have requested this shot. . . and though it may not be very flattering. . . here you go. Here I am in all my greatness and glory. With the exceptions of long nights (and Eric would want me to include grouchiness), I really don't mind being pregnant. I feel like I am smaller with this baby than with Hyrum which makes me hopeful that I won't have to deliver another 9 1/2 lb. baby. . . but who knows what the coming weeks will bring. I do have to laugh at myself when I'm trying to get on my bike and have to use my hand to pull leg up high enough to clear the bar and again when i'm breathless climbing the stairs and again when i've pulled up my pants for the one thousanth time that day. (I'd like to have a heart to heart with the crazy person that invented low riding maternity pants. mental.)

Steep and Thrilling!

On Monday, in celebration of Labor Day (well, this is what we did before the labor of cleaning out the garage, mowing the lawn. . . ), we went on a family bike ride. Near Chugiak High School there are several spectacular cross country ski trails which Eric was fortunate to discover the week before with the Scouts. The kids had a great time riding around and then we found the hills. Holy Moly!!! They were steep, and scary, and thrilling, and challenging, and so much fun. Tanner and Christian didn't even blink an eye and went tearing down the hills with mixed expressions of terror and joy. Sam was appropriately cautious but willing to try anything with Eric by his side. Everyone had such a great time that we unanimously agreed to do the "hill loop" again (this time everyone went flying down the hills and there was nothing but joy). I think that may become a favorite family spot.

Alaska State Fair

It only took me about three seconds to remember why we rarely go to any type of County/State Fair. The answer is simple. I am cheap. I hate feeling nickle and dimed to death at every corner. Silly I know, but that is frugal me. But I am glad that we went, simply because every tourist book and guide suggests the "Famous" Alaska State Fair. And now we can happily check that off of our list: Been there. Done that. Money aside. . .It was fun to see Palmer, Alaska (a place known as "The Valley" and could easily be mistaken as an undeveloped Wasatch front with spectacular mountains). The kids enjoyed the acrobat show put on by some talented men from Kenya while we ate trail mix and bananas I had brought from home (CHEAP ME). There was also the agriculture (the lettuce and radishes were particularly amazing), the livestock (the millions of rabbits all looked the same to me), and a flower display with a maze. Go Alaska!