Where it all started

For whatever reason, the closer it got to the kids coming home from school, the more the walls began to close in on me.  Space.  I need space, I thought.  I just can't deal with the myriad of papers shoved at me, the incessant questions, all asked urgently with no one waiting their turn to speak, the messes, the homework, dinner, the noise, the droves of needs and requests.  All of this is normal on most days, and at times somewhat endearing, but not today.  I waited it out as long as I could to come up for breath, thinking the sensation would eventually subside, but when two of the kids started fighting literally seconds after they walked in the door, I had to get out.  I quickly told the kids, "I have to run some errands.  I'll be back in a few hours."  And then I sat in the car by myself wondering, "Where should I go?  I have no where to go."  Then instinctively, I knew where even though I didn't know why.  First I drove to Robert's old house on Woodland Hills Circle.  That's where it all started with me and Robert.  I sat there in my car, stalker-like, except I was really only stalking my younger self.  It felt like that at any minute the younger version of me would come around the corner from the back of the house and that I would bump into her.  I felt transported into some sort of time limbo.  How I wish I could have bumped into her!  I would have so much to tell her.  Or maybe it would be kinder to allow younger me to continue in bliss and not ruin it.  If I bumped into her, I thought, I would be incredibly envious of her and her life of simplicity.  I let it all flow.  The memories, I mean.  Playing night games on the trampoline with Robert's many younger siblings, the treehouse that we used to have picnics in, the raucous family dinners with his 8 siblings where everyone yelled over each other in order to be heard, the long conversations into the wee hours in the morning when my parents were out of town, about everything, nothing off limits.  All of the kisses that always felt like the very first one, stolen when we thought no one was watching.  I loved the carefree nature and loud chaos of being at his house.  He of course loved my house because of it's structure and lack of commotion, my dad's sage advice, and little Krissy who was always there.  There was always laughter and games and excitement there at the Woodland Hills home.  Everyday felt like Christmas with Robert, and often sleep felt like such a burden in our romance story.  Next, I drove to our high school; Bountiful High School.  Memories there were a little more of a motley mix for me.  I could see myself walking to the PE building to run laps, parking in the parking lot to attend a football game, looking out the upstairs window during Spanish class at the blossoming trees, counting down the minutes until the bell would ring for school to end.  There was always the worrying about the next test and next report due, wishing away life wastefully because there was so much more of it in front of me.  I could feel the insecurity wash over me, the new need for independence, and the excitement of possibilities. I thought to myself, "Why am I here?!"  My mind was silent in response.  And then I thought, maybe it's just to see where it all started.  I suppose maybe sometimes it's just innate to need to go back to where it all began for us, even if it wasn't all roses.  I guess where it all started was with two 17 year olds, full of hope, innocence, untethered young love, and idealism.  Daydreaming back to when it was just the two of us has become my safe place to go when life gets rocky; it's like a porthole back to me, the original me free of children, responsibility, and much expectation.  And somehow, remembering where it all began makes all of the chaos, messes, lack of space, noise, and never-ending work worth it.  It already is more than worth it on most days, but today it just helped to remember where it all started.

11 and 16

We decided to make a weekend of the 2 birthdays we had in our family.  Hunter is turning 11 and Christian is turning 16 this week (their birthdays are 2 days apart).  We went up to Heber and stayed at Zermatt and had an absolutely wonderful time.  We started out by going to see the movie the Avengers which was REALLY good.  Then we went out to lunch at Iggy's and headed up to our hotel.  When we got there, we went swimming for quite a while and then Robert went and got us some food and brought it back to our room.  The next morning, we first went to our favorite breakfast place, Grannie Annie's across the street at the Homestead Resort.  Then, we went exploring and took a really pretty hike and then went to a park where the kids played soccer.  I am constantly aware that there aren't too many more of these carefree weekends before Christian is off on his own and so I try to make the most of every opportunity we have to make it an occasion for memories.  Love love love these kids.  I just wish they would stop growing up!

Hunter, age 11

Hiking up to the crater at the Homestead Resort

Jumping beds, unfortunately encouraged by me

It always makes it more fun when Jazzy comes

View from the top of the crater

Our Sunday hike

Soccer at the park

Christian's new running shoes

That's a whole lot of candles, boys!

The faces that Hunter pulls are AWESOME.  Have you ever seen a boy more excited about a present?!

He finally got a new scooter!

A Conversation

Last week I took Madison (my 13 year old) with me to Elisabeth's horseback riding lessons.  As I sat there casually talking to her teacher Kyle about Elisabeth's progress, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Madison's green eyes grow bigger and bigger as she took Kyle's appearance in slowly from head to toe.  From the sparkly pink fingernails to his bedazzled zebra striped glasses, his immaculate faux hawk hair and fluorescent teal shirt, I could almost see the exclamation marks going off in her head.  Afterwards, I was curious at how she would verbalize what she saw so I cautiously asked her what she thought of Elisabeth's teacher.  This is how the conversation went, much to my dismay.

Me:  "I just love Elisabeth's horseback riding teacher!  He's so patient and kind to Elisabeth and he has become a good friend of mine."

Madison:  Whispering for no apparent reason and obviously horrified, "I think he might be . . . GAAAAYYY!"

Me:  "Maybe he is, and maybe he isn't.  We don't know if he is, and it really doesn't even matter because Elisabeth loves him and he's an excellent teacher.  But I am curious about what you think about gay people."

Madison:  "They're really REALLY BAD!" (still whispering emphatically even though it's just the two of us in the car)

Me:  Very sad, realizing in that moment that I had failed in teaching my daughter compassion and understanding for people that arguably have been burdened with one of the heavier plights a person could be born with, and most of all, before other sources had gotten to her.  I proceeded to re-teach her in the way that I feel is more Christ-like.

I usually pride myself in being progressive and assertive in teaching my children, but I have to admit that I really missed the boat on this one.  With the rash of recent teenage, gay mormon suicides in Utah, (http://www.sltrib.com/sltrib/news/54018293-78/bullying-gay-jack-edmonds.html.csp) I have realized that we can't just sit in the background thinking that our child could never be part of the problem in the bullying, or standing by quietly allowing the bullying to take place, that can lead to suicide.  While I don't think that Madison would ever bully someone who was different in any way, her reaction scared me a bit because it made me think that maybe she could be one of the ones standing by and saying nothing because she views them as so evil, and thus maybe not worthy of defending.  And if she isn't actively STOPPING things like this if/when she sees them happen, she is part of the problem as well, as are all of our children.  Indeed, not doing anything is an act of condoning something.  Yes the subject of being gay is taboo and can be uncomfortable to broach with our children, especially in the Mormon religion, but that should not stop us from teaching our children to stand up for any child who is the subject of ridicule, and that children who may appear to be gay (although this is our judgment of them and we probably don't know for sure) are definitely NOT evil but some of the kindest people we have in this world.  AND they are Heavenly Father's child and deserve respect and dignity, equal to anybody else.

If you haven't seen this short clip on you tube that shows LDS parents of gay/lesbian children, I highly recommend it.    http://youtu.be/I948dOw41I8

"Old-School" Photography and an Advertisement

Sometimes I miss "old-school" photography which is how I learned to love photography; with regular film, using a camera with only manual features and developed painstakingly by myself in a dark room.  It took a TON of time and patience, but when it was done, it was a true piece of original artwork.  I took some pictures of Ashton recently and decided to make them "old-school" black and white.  There's something simple and beautiful about what only a black and white photo can capture.

Robert just put together an advertisement postcard for his dental practice which will go out to 5000 homes in our area.  This picture of Christian is the one we chose for the front of the card.  How I love this beautiful beautiful boy.  So thoughtful, brilliant, talented, kind, and so very HAPPY.  I know I am extremely biased, but I think most people that know him would agree with me.  He will be turning 16 on May 9.  Oh wow.  I keep wanting to do something momentous for this milestone in his life, but all he says he wants is SOCKS, and maybe some Sunday shoes.  Which is so representative of his personality; unassuming and thankful for all that he already has.  We will probably go stay in Heber for a night and have some family fun.  Hunter and Christian's birthdays are only 2 days apart, so it will be a weekend of celebration!  What could be better?!

Go Madi, Go!

I find a lot of joy when my children have an interest or talent that does not come from me; I find that their individual differences fascinate me.  Sometimes though, there is an interest that they have in common with me and I like that as well.  Yesterday I attended Madison's first track meet.  Christian is also a runner.  Both, I am sure, have largely surpassed me at their ages.  Madison's track meet was at Davis High, one of the schools I used to run track meets at, and it felt like a major time warp, for sure.  Attending my children's various activities are one of my very favorite things about being a mom.  I love that my only job in that moment is to sit there and be proud.  And boy was I proud of Madison!

Madison and some friends.  How I love 13 year olds with their braces, sweetness, and innocence.

Running the 800 meter.  She's smiling for some reason.

She can't get away from my camera.  Even during the 200 meter dash.

Robert and Ashton came.  It was 3 ½ hours so they had a lot of time to play.

Chase me, Daddy!  Chase me!

Ashton "posing" for a picture

Me, in all my teenage glory, at age 15 at a track meet.  Don't judge me. 

Why Everyone Should Be A Feminist

I have been in two recent conversations with groups of women lately where the "evils" of the Equal Rights Amendment have been broached.  Each time, I have been in such shock on that someone would view women having equal rights to men as something of the devil, that I have said nothing.  To the contrary, I have always been under the impression that the equal rights movement was guided by the hand of God and that certain key individuals were inspired to desire and demand change.  Now that I have had time to collect my thoughts a bit, I thought I would write about why I feel that everyone should be a feminist.  First, let me clarify what I mean when I use the word "feminist."  To me, it simply means a person who believes in equal rights for women.  Somehow, along the way "feminist" became a bad word and even an insult to some to be called such.  While there are/were a few rogue feminists who were extreme in their intent, most are not (were not) and simply want fairness under the law.  Let me take you back to the 1960's, which really wasn't that long ago, to paint a picture of the environment in which the Equal Rights Amendment grew out of.

If you were looking for a job, help wanted ads were separated into ads for men, and separate ads for women.  The only jobs that women were allowed to even consider were secretary, nurse, teacher, and flight attendant, and even those jobs weren't as available until the 1970s.  If a woman received a pay check, in most states, it was the property of her husband and he could do with it what he wished, and was supported in that view by law.  Women were not allowed to run in the Boston Marathon until 1972, if you can believe that.  And until 1974, if a woman wanted a loan, her husband or father was required to co-sign for her.  The Equal Rights Amendment called for, "Equality of rights under the law shall not be abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex."  Of course!  It just makes so much sense to me!  It was supported and fought for by the likes of Gloria Steinem, Betty Friedan, Florence Kennedy, and Dorothy Pitman Hughs.  A very determined opposition was launched that suggested that ratification of the ERA would lead to the complete unraveling of traditional American society.  I, by no means feel that the women involved in this equal rights movement are in complete accordance with all of the values I hold dear to my heart, but I do feel like they were guided to want more for women and given the strength to stand up and say it.

I love my life as a stay at home, traditional mother and wouldn't change it for the world.  BUT, I believe that all women have every right to choose what they want for their own lives.  And if they do choose to work by necessity, or because of pure enjoyment, they deserve equal pay and to work in an environment that does not support sexual harassment.  It seems to me that being afraid that if the equal rights amendment passed, women would make the "wrong choices" and that this would lead to the downfall of the traditional home, is similar to Satan's mentality of wanting everyone to make it back to heaven, and to do this, no one would have the right to choose.

In the 1960s, it was Betty Friedan who described the plight of the middle-class suburban housewife. "These are the women who have everything they think that they need and have been told that they want—a man, children, a dog, a house in the suburbs, the perfect wallpaper and the curtains to match it—and yet, for some reason, they feel unsatisfied, “empty, somehow,” “incomplete,” and, “as if [they] don’t exist." They were “sure they had no problem, even though they did have a strange feeling of desperation."  She explained further, "If a woman had a problem in the 1950s and the 1960s, she knew that something must be wrong with her marriage, or with herself. Other women were satisfied with their lives, she thought. What kind of a woman was she if she did not feel this mysterious fulfillment waxing the kitchen floor? She was so ashamed to admit her dissatisfaction that she never knew how many other women shared it."  Feelings like these, I believe, are the result of a person feeling powerless in their own life.  I think that just realizing that she had the right to choose for herself what she wanted her life to be, would have alleviated all or most of her unrest.  Even now, I think that women feel a lot of guilt when motherhood is not perhaps all happy and positive as they had hoped.  Instead of thinking about what she could do to change those feelings, such as having more needed breaks, or a listening ear, she automatically thinks, "There must be something wrong with me if I don't love this."  I know this is true because I felt like this for several years of my parenting adventures.  And all along, there was not anything wrong with me, I just needed someone to talk to, like a counselor.

So, if you are a woman and enjoy having the freedom to choose what degree you want, or perhaps what career you want, or even to run a race of your choice, you should be thankful for the women who fought for those rights.  Too often, their names have become synonymous with liberal-ness and ruining the traditional home when they simply fought to give you and I the rights that we enjoy, or maybe even take for granted.  It is up to us to choose what we do with those rights, for good or for bad.  And by the way, I will never believe that women who work whether they have to or, God forbid, LOVE to, are ruining the traditional home.  I have met many who are managing to work and raise amazing, emotional healthy, happy, good children and they deserve respect and our non-judgment.

I am proud to be a feminist.

And that's how I see it.

Just a journal post

This blog is a journal for me.  As a matter of fact, as a Christmas surprise, Robert printed the first two years of my writings into a book for me.  I realize that some of what I write might not be interesting to most, but along with my opinions and wanderings, it is also a history of my days.

What a fun weekend I had!  For the second time, I was able to go to my friend Teresa's cabin with her and my friend Annie from Friday morning until Saturday evening.  All we really did was eat and talk, but oh how I love and admire these women!  I felt like a sponge, soaking up all of their wisdom and light and having a lot of good laughs while doing it.  AND we got to ride in Annie's bi#@%-in new orange Jeep!  When I got home, Robert and Hunter showed me a movie trailer they had made for Hunter's book report project on the Hunger Games.  It was INCREDIBLE!  I am so thankful for what an amazing dad Robert is to our kids, how much time and effort he puts into relationships and memories with them.

Christian arrived home a short time after me, bathed in colored chalk.  He had attended something called "The Festival of Color" with his friends.  It's basically this giant mass of people that get together, play Indian music really loud and chuck colored chalk at each other.  It makes me so happy that he has friends that are as good, fun, and smart as him.  I love having them over to our house often for loud and rousing games of Monopoly or Risk.  They are so polite, and find such fun in innocent things.

Me with Annie's awesome Jeep.  Yes, I felt very cool.

The Wyoming cabin we stayed at, tucked behind the trees.  It snowed almost
the whole time we were there.

Love this field of windmills on our way up to the cabin.

This is part of Elisabeth's school project on the snow leopard.  I am so proud of how artistic
and talented Elisabeth is,  just like her Daddy.  This is an oil pastel drawing that she did for her project.  Way to go
Elisabeth!!

And here is the You Tube link to Hunter's movie making debut and Madison's dramatic acting debut.  http://youtu.be/Nb-8sYGVWF4