Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe

The St. George Marathon made it's way into town.  My Dad has been running the long 26 point something miles for 22 years.  And for 22 years I have been able to watch and cheer for him.  I have never missed a single year.  I watched as all those runners took strides to make it the last couple of miles..we figured out last year that the best view was from mile 23.  There was one lady that I was amazed was still running!  I couldn't believe she was moving at all.  I wish I had taken a picture, because I swear the force of gravity would have made her fall down, but she was chugging a long like everyone else.  I was able to spend time with my family and my kids were able to spend time with their cousins and a pot belly pig!

Running has always been a part of my life.  I first discovered running in high school.  The couch in PE kept bugging me to try out for track, he said I great running form, but I never did.  He even had the track couch come and watch me.  But I chickened out and didn't go.  I would run though, every once in a while.  I was never very fast, but enjoyed the feeling of the pavement under my feet.

When I had Sariah, I would run in the evenings, up and down the long hill by my mother in laws house.  It was my favorite run. I had a dog chase me once, he kept trying to beat me..I thought he was going to attack me.  He followed me all the way home.  I was upset when we moved to our house, I missed my old route.

Now, I have been struggling to get back into the game.  You know, being asked four times in about two months if I was expecting has motivated me to get back into the game of running...

Running is hard, it isn't easy.  You can't tie on your brand new running shoes and then expect to run a half marathon the first day.  You have to build up, slow and steady.  Sometimes, your run is amazing, and you feel like you can go farther than 10 miles, heck, you could run a marathon.  And other days, you are lucky if that mile is in sight!  But if you keep at it, the miles and the speed comes.  And the air..I have to train my body to breathe.  It isn't easy.  My lungs tell me to stop, and my heart tells me it can't take another beat.  But I keep going.  Even if I have to start over at a mile, again and again.  And who knows, maybe one day I'll be the one running the marathon, watching for my cheerleaders.  And defying gravity.

Today

Today I woke up from a long night of glorious slumber and knew that I had to dare the something courageous   I avoided it for two full hours.  I took my time.  Checked my email, looked on facebook, scanned Pinterest for the latest trend...and then I couldn't procrastinate any longer.  I gathered all my wits about me(because I was going to need all of them)  and plunged into the depths of my twelve year old daughter's room.  I knew going in that it was going to take me to the pits, and it did Ladies.  I was swallowed up by clothes, garbage and even a cockroach which was lurking behind the book shelf, and I almost touched it..scream here with me!.  But I survived.  Four and a half hours later, I emerged.  This was after my special and enduring helper, little man decided he would add his own touch to his big sisters' room and painted on the wall.  Luckily, I caught the little guy before paint was everywhere.  (crying ensued, which was only cured by Sponge bob, a rice krispy and glass of milk, yes I bribe the stinker whenever possible)

This is the third time i have cleaned this disaster zone that is HER room.  She is going to remain nameless today.  She came home from school.  i didn't expect praise.  I expected tears, or at least a shock of surprise.  I did not however expect ATTITUDE up the wazoo.  Man, I feel like I won a war and only got a lousy pain in my um, rear to show for it.  The thing is, I had asked and nagged, and begged, and threatened and pleaded with this child to clean up her room for months.  When she got her new bed, we even tried to clean some of it out. (we being mainly me, while she sat and grouchily pushed around her mess) That was three garbage bags full of stuff.  THREE.  I kept asking her to clean it up, clean it up, CLEAN IT UP.  I would get the dreaded eye rolling, the huffs, the stomping of the feet and slamming of the door.  I would even get the plugging of her ears with her ipod.  And I let it slip, I did.  I am one of those mom's I suppose.  But seriously, we are going to have company over in three days.  They will be wading through my house, making themselves at home.  If they managed to survive the trek into her room, they might have gotten lost in there.  I didn't want to be responsible for their missing person report.  Or to have to tell their mom I lost them somewhere in the jungle of my daughter's room.  And I knew, with every fiber of my mommy nerve endings that she was not going to clean that room of her's no matter what I did.  So, I broke down, and I did it.  For four and a half hours.

And I received a mountain of twelve year old angst for it.

Thank you, I deserve the MOM of the YEAR award.

I would like a large diet coke and a huge serving of french fries and Oreos for my troubles.

Or maybe four and a half hours to myself and a really good book...

or maybe both

This to shall pass

First off.

Thank You.  Two of the most important words I can ever express to you three that responded to my last post.  Thank you.  I needed you, and you were there for me.  Why can't you guys live closer to me?  Seriously.

I have had a lovely weekend with my sisters and a cousin.  We spent it in the splendor the mountains.  Surrounded by all the trees that were bursting with color.  I forget what Autumn looks like.  We don't have much of one down here where I live.  Usually, things just go from being dry to dull...I loved all the colors in the trees.  Some were purple, red, yellow, and burnt orange.  I forgot my camera, and my phone died, so I couldn't take any pictures, but when I close my eyes I can see those beautiful mountains, and I can take a deep breath.  We live in a beautiful place.

I needed the weekend.  I needed to relax and to be silly.  I needed my sisters who buoy me up and who love me simply because I am me.  I needed a few days to be EMILY and no one else.  Not a mother, or wife.  Just EMILY.  I don't know if that is selfish.  I love being a mother, I love the feel of chubby, sticky fingers going around my neck.  I love the smiles my blue eyed boy gives me when he comes home from school, I love the talks my daughter and I have in our moments..and for the most part, I enjoy being a wife.  But I missed being just me, sometimes I just miss being the me that I was before all of this.

I reflected a lot on my life in the small moments to myself.  I wish I hadn't been so naive when I first stepped into that role. WIFE.  I wish I would have wiped off my rose colored glasses a little sooner.  I wish I had listened more to my heart, sometimes.  I have been so angry this past year.  Angry at Heavenly Father for giving me this long trial.  (oh you mean marriage isn't all peaches and cream?) and I have had to grow, so achingly much.  This past year has been one of the hardest in my life.  I have had to endure a lot in my life.  I wonder if anyone is enduring half as much.  And I wonder if I can bare any thing.  I wonder if any of this is worth the struggle.

And then I saw those beautiful mountains, changing like they do every year.  In all their beauty, their time is short, they will loose some of that beauty.  Those colors will fade and drift away.  They will have to endure the harsh and cold winter..and suddenly, new buds grow, bright and green.  And the cycle begins again.  And I think, maybe it isn't an accident that there are things in nature that change all the time.  And i think...maybe this too will pass.  Maybe not now, maybe my time in winter isn't quite up, but maybe it's coming.  And I can burst forth in radiant color.

I am heading into unknown territory with life and it terrifies me.  But maybe now is the time to put my faith, that is literally the size of a seed to the test.  Faith the size of a seed can move a mountain right?

a request

For anyone who happens to read my blog....

I have been struggling a lot lately.  My faith is worn down.

I know this is a personal thing to ask.  But, if you could.

Would you leave your testimony in the comments?  I am struggling.

Please tell me about your faith.

I am worn thin and I don't know if I can stand on my own right now.

It Happened

The day I thought couldn't possibly come, came.  


It came, and went.


I am grieving the death of my daughter's little girl hood.  She went from this:

to this:

in a matter of 12 short years (can it really be 12 years?) my little girl has grown up.  She is now 5'3 and growing, she is heading into seventh grade...(do you remember seventh grade?  Yeah, and my little girl is going to be living that every day in a week!) She has gone from ignoring boys, to having a crush.  In a lot of ways, she is the same little girl I have loved for 12 years.  She has a tender heart.  She is sweet, and rarely does she get upset.  She is funny.  She still loves horses, but she no longer calls them Fluffy. (and she doesn't run around on all fours like one anymore..) She loves too read, instead of being read too.  She sings, and isn't so off key anymore.  She is still shy, but get that girl excited about DRAMA class and CHOIR,and she becomes someone that is sure of herself, and proud.  She is amazing at the piano, and has a talent I envy. She is a kind and gentle big sister, who loves and watches out for her little brothers, especially Ethan man.  She is excited about the Young Women's program, and survived her first year at camp.  She is 12. TWELVE people! 

When did my baby girl get so big?

anatomy lesson 101

We have been trying to get little man excited about potty training.  We bought a special toilet for him, and underwear to match.  We stocked the pantry with his favorite treats for when he sits and or pees on the toilet.  He isn't interested.  We tell him that big boys go potty on the toilet.  He tells me he is mommy's big boy, and then runs away.  We tell him that big boys don't wear diapers and when I convince him to finally put on underwear, he immediately asked for his diaper, and then went pee.  His older brother has kindly taught him lots of words.  Like "butt crack" and "wee wee" and "you can't touch my privates!" So this morning, I was minding my own business, taking um, a potty break and my little man comes strolling in like he owns the place, which, with his big brown eyes, he kind of does, and he looks at me and says "oh mommy you on the toilet. You wipin' your penis?"  Um...I closed and locked the door and had a good laugh.  Now, if I can just convince him that he is big enough to potty like everyone else, and that he doesn't want to wear diapers anymore, we will be heading down the diaper free highway of life.  And hopefully without awkward questions from my son.

What Would You Do?

Something happened today that has me on edge.  I am usually an accommodating person.  I am polite, I am kind.  I use the manners my parents taught me.  And I respect my elders.  That all went out the window today.  I'll explain.  I am making a simple project for a sister's birthday party.  I had to run to the fabric store.  Joanne's no less.  I had not realized that the store was closing and moving to a new location, so I found some fabric for Sariah's Halloween costume. I had taken my three kids with me.  Usually they are pretty good, which is why I can take them in public.  I am not bothered by kids around me.  I am use to them.  They are good kids.  Anyway, I am standing there, waiting for my fabric to be cut.  My little man, E, was behind me, running in a tight circle, he was singing a little loudly, his nonsense song, it was turning into a higher pitched squeal.  It was not a scream.  Suddenly, a older lady comes up to me and says "Is this your child?"  and points to my cute boy, who was still running in a circle, a small, tight circle behind me.  "yes" I reply, thinking I was going to hear a compliment, it usually happens, right?  Nope.  "Would you tell him to be quiet?  His noise is hurting my ears.  He is disturbing the other costumers and myself" she said very rudely.  I looked at her, and felt my heart stop.  What do I do?  I still had to wait to get my fabric cut, it was going to take at least another five minutes.  Now, usually, I would have been polite, and would have said, of course, I'll try and keep him quiet, blah blah.  but it that small amount of time, I thought, he isn't doing anything wrong.  So I replied "No, I'm not going to keep him quiet.  He's fine, he's having fun, and he isn't doing anything wrong"  She started in on me.  Telling me that everyone in the store was annoyed by my child, and she was the only one who had the nerve to tell me so.  I looked around, most everyone else was minding their own buisness, and one grandma even winked at me.  "Well, I'm not keeping him quiet."  She huffed and while walking away, to the CHECK OUT STAND where her cart was, she kept telling me what she thought.  She had been in the check out line.  The same grandma who winked at me was taking care of a grandson, who was busy pulling things off of a shelf, and causing a lot more harm on the aisle than Ethan had been doing, dancing behind me.  He hadn't done anything wrong.  He wasn't running around the store, or pulling on things, he was tugging on strangers, or screaming at the top of his lungs.  He was entertaining himself, behind me, right next to me.  He was right next to me.  And she had the nerve to tell me to keep my child quiet?  What would you do?  Would you have told your kids to be quiet?  Would you have been polite?  She hadn't even tried to be nice at all.  I think she expected me to do what she said, and what?  Chain my child to my side, and duct tape my three year old's mouth so that he can't disturb someone out in PUBLIC? The lady helping me was still cutting fabric, and Ethan was getting more restless, I was trying to keep him quiet, so I handed Sariah the car keys and told her to take him outside.  I could see the mean old lady standing there, talking to her daughter, and I knew from the glances she was giving me, that she was talking about me.  Seriously, what would you have done?  It was the first time I ever wanted to call someone a swear word.  And my children, they were shocked by that lady as well.  they talked about it on the ride home.  And they talked about it while we were eating lunch.  I don't know if what I did was right, but it sure didn't feel wrong at the moment!