Welcome to the family journal that captures the chaos that is the world of Colleen, Adam, Zach, Ben, Josh, Luke, Tommy, and Ruby. Here you will see small snippets of what we see every day.
Our garage door opener went out about a week ago. We were starting to wonder if the warranties were up on everything in our home all at once because about the same time as the garage door opener went out, so did about 5 other things. Don't you love when that happens? {please note the sarcasm} Total budget buster. Anyhow, we had the garage door specialist guy come out, but after confirming Adam's suspicion on the problem with the opener, Adam opted to buy the part from Amazon for $15 dollars and replace it himself instead of paying the guy $100 in parts and labor to replace it.
This wasn't a simple decision. Adam is a handyman-in-training. He wants to be the guy who can do odd jobs around the house. And he's getting there. But he never learned how to do those handyman type of things growing up because his dad, who had done so much of that kind of work while growing up on a farm, always called in someone else to do the household jobs. So Adam has had to learn as he goes, project by project, job by job. Usually, after some tinkering here, experimenting there, he's successful. Sometimes we realize we need to call in the experts.
Tuesday afternoon the part for the garage door arrived. Tuesday night I walked into the garage just as Adam was finishing up the replacement. He looked at me, an unquestionable look of satisfaction on his handsome face, complete with safety glasses, headlamp, and greasy shirt. Then in a manly voice, that I am sure was slightly deeper than usual, he said, "Go ahead. Push the button." So I did as instructed. Who am I to question such certainty? That garage door rumbled its way up to the top and stopped--more quietly than it has in our entire three-and-a-half years living in this house I might add--and then I pushed the button again and it rumbled itself right back down to stop at the ground. Closed tight.
"I just saved us $100 bucks," said Adam, grinning through slimy gray grease.
"And you totally just stepped into manhood, babe." I replied.
That is MY man. :) I'm so proud of my "official" Chaos household handyman.
Monday night another cross-country season came to an end. It was, as always, a fun and fantastic season. I love the Landsharks running program the kids do through the school. And so do my boys.
Josh decided to join Ben again this year for the fall Landsharks series (he's still up in the air as to whether he wants to do spring track or not), and really seemed to find his groove. He's fast! It was fun to see him realize that he could go faster than he did last year, to notice that he could be one of the frontrunners, and then to watch him gain his confidence and go for it. Josh ran the half-mile all three races, this is usually run by the kindergartners and 1st graders. Next year he will have to do the mile; I don't know what he will think about that! He likes the shorter runs. The times for the first race were recorded all wrong for our site and I failed to notice his time when he crossed the finish line, but he placed 2nd. We saw him go out fast and thought he'd lose his frontrunner place by the time the race was finishing, but as the leaders came down the home stretch, there he was! Wow! The second race he finished 4th with a time of 4 minutes, 1.58 seconds, and the third race he placed 6th with a time of 4 minutes, 13.84 seconds. It was wonderful to watch Josh grow as a runner. We were so proud of him!
Ben had another great season. He still loves running, and Tuesday night he told me that and has determined that he either wants to be a vulcanologist, a paleontologist, a mathematician, a soccer player or a runner for a career once he grows up. :) He is going to be competing in the city-wide race next week, so the season isn't completely over for him. The races Ben ran are run by 2nd through 5th graders. He ran the mile-and-a-half the first race night and I happened to catch a picture of him as he crossed the finish line, so I got his time at 10 minutes, 21 seconds, finishing in 2nd place. The second race he ran the mile so we could get him to soccer practice which is also on Monday nights, and he finished in 7 minutes, 18.96 seconds in 2nd place. For his final race he went back to the mile-and-a-half, which he finished in 10 minutes, 13.84 seconds, finishing 3rd. He gives it his all, he works hard, he loves it, and of course we feel so incredibly proud of Ben too!
How can you not LOVE that adorable little boy in the photograph?! I sure do! He has the potential and capability to be so sweet, like sugar. But don't let the sparkling blue eyes, smattering of perfectly placed freckles, and darling little smile fool you. Along with all the sugar, that boy is packed full of salt right now! Is it his age? Is it a stage? Please, Lord, let it be. Because the boy in that photo up there has the capacity to drive his mama COMPLETELY CRAZY! And is doing so, on a regular basis.
One minute my heart is smooshing because he brought home two necklaces that he has made from preschool, one of which is for him, the other he says he made for his brother, Josh.
The next my heart is pounding with frustration as he throws a complete, yelling, kicking, shrieking tantrum on the floor because I told him that he has reached his daily quota and no, we could not watch one more TV show.
One minute he's making me light up with a smile by bringing me a picture he drew of me and him smiling in a field together with a bright sun, a rainbow, butterflies and lush green grass.
The next he's brought a dark storm cloud into the house by shouting, "NO! That's MINE!" and stealing a toy right from Tommy's hands and then, just because shouting, "MINE!" doesn't seem like enough force he's once again screaming loudly and throwing another big tantrum. And "big" means BIG.
One minute I am warmed by the sight of him sweetly cuddling with his daddy at bedtime, spreading his blanket out over dad's shoulders so dad doesn't get cold.
The next I am covered in irritated chills as he ignores every gentle, kind, carefully planned effort on our part to get him to settle nicely into sleep, by screaming into his pillow, kicking his legs up and down on his bed and making sleep for Josh, with whom he shares a room, impossible.
One minute I am getting warm fuzzies as he happily listens to me read "The Human Body Pop-Up Book," curled in a Luke-ball on my lap.
The next I am being pelted by cold pricklies as he tells me, forcefully, that if I don't read another page he won't eat his lunch. Little does he realize that by his stubborn ultimatum he has completely destroyed any chance he had of having another page read, and I tell him so. To more screaming, flopping, and wailing.
Yes, my Sweet Lu is sometimes, right now OFTENTIMES, Salty Lu. But through it all...even when I need a taste of sweet so badly and all I'm getting is salt, I see those sparkling blue eyes, the smattering of perfectly placed freckles, and darling little smile and remember that this stage or phase or age, whatever, is obviously very difficult for him too.
Perhaps he's thinking, "That mama has the capacity to drive me COMPLETELY CRAZY! And she's doing so, on a regular basis.
One minute she's smiling at me, telling me how thoughtful I am that I made a necklace for my brother.
The next she's making me turn off the TV, when I am tired from a long day at school and all I want to do is learn about Aardvarks on Wild Kratts. No one is as cool as those Kratt brothers.
One minute she's praising me for the pretty picture I drew of the two of us in a field...I even put in a rainbow!
The next I'm getting in trouble for taking a toy from Tommy that belongs to me and that HE took from ME first! Why am I the one getting in trouble?!
One minute I am cuddled up in my bed with Dad, falling asleep with my best guy. I even shared my blanket.
The next he leaves me to go downstairs, to MOM, and I am cold and lonely and it's dark and now I don't even feel tired at all anymore.
One minute she's snuggling with me on the couch reading my favorite book about the skeletal system...oh and I like the digestive system too. There's a part about chime. It's gross and funny!
The next she's closing it up telling me I have to each my lunch, and we didn't even get to the part about chime yet! So I tell her I don't want to eat until I get to finish my book and then she gets even meaner."
No. I'm not alone in my frustrations. I am sure Sweet Mom is definitely seen as Salty Mom oftentimes. Luke is probably just as flummoxed by me as I am by him right now. And when I can see things through his sparkling blue eyes it helps us. Even if it is just a little bit. To get me though this challenging stage we're going through with a bit more patience, tenderness, consideration, and love. Even if I do feel a bit crazy by the end of some of our salty days. Those days, to get my sweet fix, I just dive into a bowl of nice sweet chocolate ice cream.
The Chaos is gearing up for Halloween! I'm so excited.... In less than one week, on October 1st, we will be happily spookifying the house for one of our very favorite holidays!!! And our newest decoration addition will be the little monsters and the single owl (pictured below) that we all made together last night. They are so cute! I love how they turned out, each and every one of them. Zac and Ben both did their own gluing and assembly. Ben was very insistent that he make an owl rather than a monster, so if it seems that "one of these things is not like the others" just try to force yourself to think "SCARY owl" instead of what it really is...an adorable fuzzy felt owl. I helped Josh with the hot glue, but he put all the pieces on. Luke picked out his monster and said, "You make it, Mom." And asked repeatedly, "Is MY monster done yet?!" Ha! And Tommy contributed by climbing up into his chair and scattering felt pieces all over the kitchen. When that got boring he decided to start tearing the felt apart.
Happy Haunting Season! I {love, love, love} this spooky time of year!
Here we are at another first day of fall! The start of the Chaos family's very favorite season (although we do LOVE them all!). It was a gorgeous day, sunny and warm (high 70's) with a perfect little cool breeze, just to remind you that Autumn had indeed arrived but that Summer had yet to relinquish her warm embrace. With the arrival of fall, we celebrated once again with our annual feast: pot roast with potatoes and carrots, homemade bread, pumpkin pies and apple cider for toasting. The boys had been so excited for it all week long. I love that this little tradition Adam and I started back when we were first married has become one of our boys' favorite days of the year. The feast was, as always, delicious! With my success at last year's first attempt at homemade Thanksgiving pie crusts, I made the crusts from scratch again, and, really, I am sold on "from scratch." I feel that food made from scratch really is simply better. Tommy felt similarly about the homemade whipped cream he got to eat by the spoonful from the bowl. :)
With bellies full and hearts happy we moved from the indoors to the outdoors. Our neighbor brought over a cute little acorn man yesterday as a thank you after we dropped off a plate of chocolate chip pumpkin bread. We loved him so much we had to make more! They all came out so cute, and each one unique!
To finish off the first night of fall, we held a "cinema under the stars" in our backyard. The cool breeze had turned into a chilly night, so we piled on the blankets, snuggled close together and enjoyed the Chaos version of a drive-in theater. Don't judge: we watched Spooky Buddies. It was every bit as entertaining to the boys as I predicted it would be (I don't know why, but they LOVE those Buddies movies!). Likewise, it was every bit as eye-rolling to Adam and I as I predicted it would be!
Hooray for Fall! Hooray for Fall Feast! Hooray for special family traditions! Hooray for cute acorn men! Hooray for Spooky Buddies?
Tommy has a favorite word. Can you guess it? I bet you can! Here's a clue: he's one month away from being two. Yep! You got it, you smart cookie, you! You must live with or have lived with a toddler.
It is "No."
Tommy uses it to reply to any and every question, suggestion or command. The thing is, Tommy is still not talking much, he really only has a few clear words, and other than "mom," most of those few words are only the vowels from the word. But still, even with only vowels, his meaning is clear as day, one of those few words is "NO." And he says it like this, "O."
"Tommy, can you go find your shoes?" "O."
"Tommy, please put the car away in the toy box." "O."
"Tommy, hold my hand in the street." "O."
"Tommy, pick a story for bedtime." "O."
"Tommy, do you want a cookie?" "O."
Yep. He even uses "No" when he means "Yes!" He is very two.
So today when I was filling out a developmental questionnaire for Tommy's speech therapy pre-evaluation-evaluation (bureaucracies!) with the school district, there was one section towards the end of the assessment I had some difficulty figuring out how I should answer. The goal of the question was to see if Tommy could understand and follow directions (which my smart boy sure can...when it suits him!).
The question read: Without giving him clues by pointing or using gurestures, can your child carry out at least three of these kinds of directions?
a. "Put a toy on the table."
b. "Close the door."
c. "Bring me a towel."
d. "Find your coat."
e. "Take my hand."
f. "Get your book."
Of course, Tommy was in an "O" mood, as he is most of the time, so every direction I gave him was shot down by a big, "O!" After laughing, then trying to sound stern, then rolling my eyes and giving up, I ultimately checked the "Yes" box. I know he CAN follow instructions. He was just choosing not to, like he does so often these {fun} toddler days. I should have grabbed my purse and said, "We're going outside! Get your shoes!" He would have been on it in a snap.
The next questionnaire I had to fill out was a health history. It asked 1,000 questions about his health and development from his conception up to today. But I laughed right out loud all alone in my kitchen, and may have even shed some jubilant tears, when I got about halfway down the first page. It was asking for the child's age when he hit certain developmental milestones, like smiling at parents, rolling over, crawling, walking, first word, self-feeding, etc.
One of the last ones in the list was, "Indicate at what age your child said "no, no" to everything?"
He may have skipped the talking milestone, but I guess he's hit THAT milestone with no problem!
Tuesday night we received a phone call from Adam's mom, Nicolle, letting us know she was in the area. As with her last drive-by visit, the "area" really just meant the Mountain States. We LOVE it! It is a blessing to us that she considers Colorado Springs to be "close" to Sandy, Utah. This visit we got to keep her for a little longer than last time's overnight. She drove in Thursday night and stayed through Sunday morning. Just like when my parents come into town, having Nicolle visit felt like, just for a bit, a piece of the part of our heart that still calls Washington home had come to settle into the piece of our heart that calls Colorado home. It was nice.
Grandma's last-minute visit found us during one of our regular busy fall-season weekends, full of Young Women activities, soccer practices and games and the shuffle of it all. Adam took Friday off so he could spend the day with us all, but mostly with his momma. Having a day with just the little two, while the big boys were all at school, was fun and relaxing. They loved the solo Grandma attention, especially Luke, who curled up in her lap on numerous occasions to "help" her take care of her newest iTouch app "Pet Hotel."
Saturday Grandma relaxed in the camp chairs along the sideline of the soccer fields with the rest of us, watching three fantastic soccer games, two for Ben and one for Josh. She watched as Ben played incredible defense, including some goalie time, for his team, as well as his sweet sneaker goal when he had a turn at forward. She witnessed Josh's two goals for his team, as he took the ball from his position as defender and ran the field twice to score. Zac's game was early in the morning, so only Adam went, but back at home we fans were watching my phone for the text message play-by-play from Adam, as Zac helped with assists on three of the team's four goals, the fourth goal he didn't assist on, instead he shot it! It was a good weekend to be part of the Conlin cheering squad!
Saturday night Adam, Nicolle and I called in the favorite babysitter, Krystal, and went out for a movie. We saw Contagion. Talk about a horror film! This was REAL horror! We left the theater, our hands in our pockets, touching as few surfaces as possible and all used the hand-sanitizer as soon as we got to the car. Sanitizing four more times between the theater, Maggie Moos Ice Cream and home. :) Yipes!
Nicolle had to leave us early on Sunday to get to a family dinner in Utah, but we loved this visit, as we love all the others. We are expecting another visit in October, this time including Grandpa Dan, and knowing when the next visit will be always makes it easier to say goodbye. Thank you, Grandma/Mom for a wonderful visit and for thinking that Utah is just a "short" drive from our home! We love you!!!
This one is for Nicolle who wanted to stay to hear it, but needed to start the drive to get to a family dinner that had been planned before she knew I was speaking (I was called Thursday night to speak on Sunday morning for someone who could not be there). Thanks for your help! Love!!!
Good Morning!My name is Colleen Conlin.My dear husband Adam and I, along with our five fantastic boys have been in the ward for three-and-a-half years now.We are entering Conlin birthday season, so the boys’ ages range from ‘almost’ 11 down to ‘almost’ 2.We are transplants from Washington State and love living here in the Colorado Springs sunshine.But many of the biggest blessings we feel we have in living here are the amazing people who are a part of our ward family.
A few years back, when Zac was a preschooler I was assigned to speak in the ward we were living in at the time.I was nervous, as I am today, and was talking to Adam about my jitters in the front of the car on our drive to church.About that time, Zac asked me for a piece of gum, so I passed one back to him and popped one in my own mouth.As we began to chew our two separate pieces, Zac asked me if I could blow a bubble.I was distracted by my own thoughts and nerves and didn’t register the question, so he asked again.Still pouring over my notes, I didn’t hear him.But Adam heard and answered, “Sorry buddy, mom’s nervous right now.”When I heard the word “Mom,” the conversation I had been tuning out settled into my consciousness and I looked up into the backseat mirror just as Zac said, “Don’t be nervous, Mom.” I gave him a big smile and was about to give my thoughtful little man a “thank you” when he continued, “Bubble blowing is easy.You just stick your tongue in the gum like this, then make a pocket to hold with your teeth, and start to blow!”Since that day, remembering that moment always relieves a bit of my nerves as I get ready to speak in church.
I’d like to open my talk on giving meaningful service with a quote not BY President Monson, but ABOUT President Monson.“Although {Thomas S. Monson} leads a world-wide church of millions, he never loses sight of the fact that each person in the church is an individual, and he is constantly watching for opportunities to serve that one person.”
Serving the One.Doing this is directly following the example of the Savior.In the scriptures we read about many times when He served the multitude, teaching and administering, but we also learn about times He served the One.Like in 3rd Nephi 21, when, after teaching all day long, He takes all those that are sick and afflicted in body and heals them “every one,” and then takes the children and “one by one” blesses them.In the gospels there are many stories of Christ serving the One through healing, teaching, forgiving.One of my favorite stories is in Luke, chapter 8, when Jesus heals the faithful woman in the crowd, ailing with a blood disease, who reaches out to touch His robe, knowing that if she can just touch Him she will be whole again.When He feels the power of healing flow out to her, He seeks to find the person whom had touched Him.At first the woman is afraid He will be displeased and upset with her, but instead His love for the One is clear and powerful as He says, “Daughter, be of good comfort: thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace.”
Serving the One.Not only can we see this example in the life of the Savior, we can see it in our prophet, Thomas S. Monson.Elder Holland shares this story of President Monson regarding the eighty-seven widows who lived in President Monson’s ward while he served as a young bishop.Elder Holland says, quote, “Nearly all of those eighty-seven widows are gone now, but their “bishop” kept visiting them to the end. One night during the Christmas holidays some years ago, President Monson was making his customary rounds to “his” widows, leaving gifts purchased from his own pocket, including plump dressed chickens that were, in the early years, raised in his own coops. In one of the many Salt Lake City rest homes he has come to know so intimately, he found one of his ward members, alone and silent in the darkened room of a world made even darker by the onset of blindness. As President Monson made his way to this sweet sister’s side, she reached out awkwardly, groping for the hand of the only visitor she had received in the whole of the Christmas season. “Bishop, is that you?” she inquired. “Yes, dear Hattie, it is I.” “Oh, Bishop,” she wept through sightless eyes, “I knew you would come.” They all knew he would come, and he always did.”
Serving the One.We must follow the example of the Savior and that of our Prophet to lift one another’s burdens.Serving the One is a principle that will give our service more meaning than anything else we can do.
How can we serve the One?I might suggest three ways to focus our efforts and thereby become people who give meaningful service:
First of all, we must be open to the promptings of the Spirit to let us know that someone could be in need of our help and what those needs could be. Every week at church we learn the ways to be the most open to the quiet whisperings of the Spirit.Prayer, scripture study, regular church and temple attendance, and in a world filled with darkness and wickedness doing our best to make sure we are filling our homes with wholesome things by listening to good music, reading good books, watching good television shows and so on.We all KNOW these things are the ways to have the Spirit near to us.But knowing isn’t enough.We have to be DOING them.In one of his October 2009 General Conference addresses President Monson said, “We become so caught up in the busyness of our lives. Were we to step back, however, and take a good look at what we’re doing, we may find that we have immersed ourselves in the “thick of thin things.” In other words, too often we spend most of our time taking care of the things which do not really matter much at all in the grand scheme of things, neglecting those more important causes.”I am not even a little bit near to perfect in practicing these things.These seemingly simple principles I have to constantly remind myself of, work for, try hard to achieve, so instead of just KNOWING what I am supposed to do to keep the Spirit near, I am actually DOING it!And I know I am succeeding when I can feel His presence more and more.
That leads directly to my second “how.”We must SERVE, not just OFFER to serve.In 2007, Adam and I had just settled into our first purchased home.We had had our fourth baby boy in June.All was well.Then, in August, Adam was given the opportunity to seek a new position with his company.It was an exciting opportunity but it would require us to move to Colorado Springs.After prayer and a lot of discussion, we decided to make the move.Adam started his job in October while the boys and I waited for the house to sell.And we waited and waited and waited.The house just sat on the market.We dropped the price twice, we had visitors, but the house would just not sell.It was a long SIX months before in one glorious week in March we finally received two offers and sold the house.During those months of waiting I was home alone with four little boys, Zac was 7 and the only one in elementary school.It was difficult, to say the least.If you know me at all, you know I am a night owl.I am most productive in the post-bedtime hours than in any other time period of the day, but during those months some evenings I would put the boys to bed and, exhausted emotionally and physically, I would collapse into bed myself.It was hard to get much done!But the saving graces of those six months were the friends and family members who offered their service to me.And let me tell you the most meaningful service I received was not the service that was offered with the statement: “If you need anything, just let me know, I am here to help.”Don’t get me wrong, knowing I had support was greatly appreciated and it made my burdens seem less heavy.But I think as human beings we are a little prideful about asking for and accepting service, even when it is greatly needed.I certainly am.And so I wouldn’t ask unless the need was dire, like I felt as if I would lock myself in the bedroom for days if I had to face one more grocery store trip with my entire kidtourage.But those who called and said, “I’m coming over tomorrow afternoon to watch your kids for a couple of hours so you can get some errands run; expect me at 1pm,” or “I am bringing you dinner tonight; sorry, you have no choice about the matter,” those were the acts of service I truly appreciated.I didn’t have to ask.My friends saw my needs without me needing to ask.They WERE open to the direction of the Spirit concerning me.And they just served.
Finally, we must remember not only that “when ye are in the service of your fellow beings, ye are only in the service of your God,” but also that we cannot help but come from the service changed ourselves.In a way, by serving others we are serving ourselves too.And, that while it may be easy to serve a friend, serving those who we do not know, or better yet, those we find difficult, will be the service experiences that become the most meaningful lessons in our lives.My mother-in-law told me a story of a close friend of hers who, years ago, was assigned as a visiting teacher to a difficult and negative woman.When this visiting teacher would bring candy or cookies as a special gift, the woman would say something like, “Great, thanks, you know candy could give the kids cavities!”And when the visiting teacher would come with no special offering other than a message and the hand of friendship, the woman would remark, “Were you too busy to think to bring something along?”I am sure you can imagine it was very frustrating!As the visiting teacher fervently prayed for a way to help and teach this challenging woman, she received a strong confirmation in her mind.It was a simple question: “Who says it is this woman who needs to be learning right now?”Perhaps this negative sister did indeed need a lesson, if in nothing else, polite manners, but after her prayers, the visiting teacher learned that SHE was the one who was truly being taught by the Lord.Although it has been many years since the days of visiting this challenging sister, my mother-in-law’s friend has never forgotten the lesson the Spirit taught her that day.
Just think.If we ALL focused on serving the One, in the end, all of us would end up as recipients of service when we needed it.If we could all seek the guidance of the Spirit to help a neighbor, ward member, or family member, the Lord would hear the desire of our hearts and would send us direction.If we remembered that the greatest acts of service are the ones DONE rather than the ones OFFERED we could bless the lives of those who need us without them ever even having to ask.And if we are willing to be open to the gifts we can receive from serving others, we will never walk away from a service opportunity unchanged and unimproved.I know it’s not simple, it’s not always easy, but it is achievable when we have the faith to do it.
I said in my opening that one of the reasons that we love it here in Colorado Springs is because of the wonderful and unique ward family we have found here.I believe that is partly due to the gift of willingness to serve and pleasure in serving that so many in this ward have been blessed with.These ARE gifts, let us not waste them.Just like in a real family, when we serve one another as a ward family, we become closer and more connected.
In closing I would like to quote President Monson one more time.“My brothers and sisters, we are surrounded by those in need of our attention, our encouragement, our support, our comfort, our kindness—be they family members, friends, acquaintances, or strangers. We are the Lord’s hands here upon the earth, with the mandate to serve and to lift His children. He is dependent upon each of us.”
Let us not become lax in our willingness to serve.Let us not forget that we can be instruments in His hands to bless the lives of others and in doing so, be greatly blessed ourselves.This is my prayer for all of us, in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
This afternoon it started to pour. A lot of rain and hail came down all at once, and then kept coming!
With fields sopping wet and mud puddles ankle-deep, soccer practices were canceled across the board. To save "the witching hour" from driving Mrs. Chaos crazy from cooped-up, energy-packed boy boredom, it was suggested that they make some aluminum foil boats and race them down the four-foot-wide river that was flowing through the gutters in front of the house. They were pretty enthusiastic about the idea and the big boys set themselves to task. Instead of building his own boat, Luke chose a pre-fab variety of vessel. Those babies really got rippin' down the gutter! It was awesome.
Umbrellas schrumellas. The boys ditched those pretty quickly, and it was not a warm rain. They were soaked and shivering in minutes, but they didn't mind one bit. They stayed out anyway, enjoying the downpour. Hot showers were definitely in order following the races.
Barbecue jerk-spiced shrimp skewers were on the menu for dinner and the shrimp was already thawed, so in spite of the rain, the barbecue was lit by the fearless Mr. Chaos and shrimp were cooked to perfection under the protection of an umbrella. They were every bit as delicious as they would have been on a sunny day!
And that is how Seattle natives do a rainy Colorado afternoon.
Tommy has the greatest bed head. I love waking him up in the morning just so I can chuckle at the new 'do created by the combination of his fine wispy hair and wiggly sleep patterns!
Josh lost the first of his top teeth this past week. It was quite a relief because the tooth has been loose for so long, it was really bugging him. He looks so darn cute with his gap-toothed grin!
As my husband and three biggest boys were getting ready to leave the house Friday night for our ward's annual father-son camp out (Luke opted out) at the Air Force Academy's B-52 campground, Adam grabbed his i-Pod off the counter.
Me: "Hey! It's the father-son camp out! You can't bring that. You are supposed to be spending some quality time with the boys, not watching a movie on your i-Touch."
Adam: "My dear, since you've never been to one of these, let me enlighten you. It's really fathers-sit-talking-around-the-campfire-while-sons-run-amok-in-the-woods. There isn't a lot of quality time, unless you count the great time I have hanging out with my guy friends and the crazy time the boys have being wild with their friends. That's what really goes on."
Me: "Psha! That isn't how it should be! Doesn't the term 'Father/Son' imply good quality father and son time?"
Adam: "Don't worry, honey, we all have fun."
Me: "Alrightee then, just promise me you aren't going to watch anything on your i-Touch when you could be spending time with the boys."
Adam: "Deal. It's just to listen to my book to help me settle as I fall asleep anyway."
And that is just about how it went. The boys reported high adventures of games in the dark, climbing trees (Ben, 30 feet up in a pine in the pitch dark {shudder}), and endless {horrible-for-you} treats and snacks. Adam told stories of funny things he had discussed with the other dads. They came home dirty, smelling of campfire smoke, laughing together over funny moments during the course of the 16 hours they were gone, and very happy.
Judging from the smiles on their faces and the camaraderie I saw in them the rest of the day, I guess it's not my female idea of quality time that matters. They had a great time having their kind of quality time, guy quality time. Even though I still think "The Father-Son Camp Out " would more properly be named "The Fathers-Having-Fun-Sons-Having-Separate-Fun Camp Out." Adam did say they played cards in the tent for an hour-and-a-half before bed and got a big group together for a father-son game of touch football Saturday morning. So I'm satisfied. :)
Happy boys. Happy husband. Happy with the time they spent together. What more could a mother and wife ask?! Not a thing.
Luke has recently developed two new very cool interests.
First, Luke has become fascinated by the inner workings of the human body, especially the bones. Every book we have on the human body has been read, re-read, re-re-read and so forth. Nana bought him a pair of skeleton pajamas over the Labor Day weekend and he adores them. When it was time to put them in the dirty laundry I had to deal with some major Luke devastation. You'd have thought I was burning them, not washing them. Do we have a budding osteopath on our hands? Perhaps!
Luke in his favorite PJ's with his "Me Doll" that he made for a preschool assignment. Note the black and blue on the paper doll's forehead. The blue is his brain, the black is his skull covering the brain "to protect it."
Luke's other new interest is drawing. A few weeks back, Adam introduced the boys to one of his favorite sacrament meeting activities as a kid. He would use just a single piece of paper, and during the hour-long meeting he would create one scene, filling the entire paper with as many bits of drawings as he could to add to the scene. For example, an underwater sea-scape would be complete with treasure boxes, divers, fish and whales, plants, boats, submarines, etc. By the end of the hour it could be a picture used in a book of "search and finds." All the boys have taken a liking to this, but Luke LOVES it! He works so hard all sacrament meeting drawing all his little bitty pictures to make a scene, and he comes out with a great picture! It is all very planned out in his mind too. A couple of Sundays ago he got really mad at me because he wanted me to help him draw a diver and it wasn't the RIGHT kind of diver (read: the kind DAD draws).
Luke's most recent Sunday morning scene: snowmen above ground with an ant colony below ground.
Ever since Luke's love for this style was born, he has been drawing up a storm! He will disappear for an hour to the basement desk, only to reappear with a huge stack of drawings. I love his pictures. They are great for telling me what is on his mind, what he likes and what he doesn't like, what interests him and what he fears. He does the mini-scenes, like Dad. But he also draws a lot of pictures that have a story (regular themes include: Luke vs. Darth Maul, our family, and zombies). It's been so fun to see his imagination take a new direction and for him to find a new passion! He's so prolific that I have tons, TONS, of drawings on my hands, and I am not sure what to do with them all. His favorites he hangs on his wall by his bed, the rest go in the "for you, Mama" stack...that is growing by the hour.
Clockwise from top left: red zombies and a bear chasing Luke and Josh (don't worry, they get away); Luke and Tommy with a rainbow; our family hiding from zombies in a cave; Dad, Luke and Josh at night looking at the stars; our family swimming and scuba diving; green dead zombies after the sun comes up; Luke fighting Darth Maul; our family scuba diving again.
Yesterday I cleaned out Tommy's "shoe bucket," a long-overdue task. I was tired of pulling out shoe after shoe, only to find that nearly every shoe I tried was too small for Tommy's rapidly growing feet. Plus, the bucket was overflowing because I kept throwing in the new bigger shoes without removing the older, too-small shoes. I am usually very orderly when it comes to out-grown items: clothes, toys or otherwise. When things no longer have a use I either pack them away until they might become useful again, or I send them packing to a new home where they can find use with someone else.
But I have been avoiding this shoe-clean-out like the plague. Having had all my 8+ and 9+ pound boys born with huge feet, and seeing only one of them walk before the age of one, most of our "baby" shoes, the boys' first real walking shoes (slippers and Robeez not included), were in sizes to fit a 12 to 18-month old. And that is the size that Tommy has left behind. Which means all the sweet little hand-me-down shoes, the ones that have strong baby memories attached to them, are now either destined for the garbage or the Goodwill. I've saved a pair of the first soft-soled shoes for each of the boys in their baby boxes, but I can't keep these too. As much as I hate to let these shoes go, there is no reason to have pairs and pairs of tiny, unused shoes collecting dust around the house just because I am a sentimental sap and don't want to send them on to other babies' feet...just yet...or ever...so I must.
Instead of keeping the shoes, I will keep this picture:
(L to R, Top to Bottom) Zac's first pair of shoes: the box accidentally had two different sizes, but I didn't really notice for at least a month, he loved to unvelcro the straps and cross them into X's; Josh's first pair of shoes: he wore Zac's at first, but was too good at getting them off because of the easy-to-undo Velcro, so I bought these with laces that he couldn't get undone in hopes of having his feet stay in his shoes for more than 20 seconds; Ben's second pair of shoes: he was the only one with smallish feet and the only one to really be fully walking before a year, so his first pair are tiny and in his baby box; Zac's second pair of shoes: baby Vans I found at Nordstrom Rack, my sister loved her little sk-8-er dude nephew in these ones; Luke's first pair of shoes: the toes are rubbed raw because he walked and crawled in combination for so long; Josh's second pair of shoes: easier to get on than laces, tighter Velcro, just like the big-brothers' shoes as he so desperately wanted them to be; Luke's first pair of church shoes: with such little feet, Luke needed a smaller pair than what we had for Josh, I loved how these looked with his little khaki pants and Papa hat!
It's a photograph of so much more than a bunch of broken-in shoes. It's a photograph of unsteady steps along the sidewalk to the park, of chasing seagulls at the beach in winter, of a first day in nursery, of running--because walking is for babies, and I'm no baby--everywhere, of keeping up as best as possible with big brothers, of crunching fallen leaves along the nature trail, of kicking first soccer balls with Dad, of moments spent putting them on or taking them off before the next adventure that would take us out of the house, of 10-month-old steps taken through long grass towards Dad seen for the first time after a month apart, of little shoed-feet sticking out from under the stroller canopy, of huge flying leaps from playground equipment, of an ultimate decision to {finally} walk instead of crawl, of emptying out sand after a visit to the sandbox, of pacing church hallways during sacrament meeting, of stomping on ants on the patio, of jumping in puddles on a rainy day.
It is a picture of so much more than a bunch of broken-in shoes. It is a picture of a thousand memories that are sacred to me. Thankfully the memories can remain long after the shoes have moved on.
Adam and I live a long 22-hour drive from our families. Sometimes that can feel very far away and we get a little "homesick," even though we LOVE living here and feel blessed in the home we've made here. "Home" to me means so much more than a place where you reside. You can live in a house and never feel like it is home. But when you are surrounded by people you love and friends you cherish, when you have built up a network and support system, when your kids are content and satisfied, when you feel safe, when you love your school and are friends with your neighbors, when you enjoy the activities and events that are offered and take joy in the traditions you've created in a place, it becomes home. We have really made a happy, good home here. But family, for Adam and I, who love our families so much (and this includes friends who are like family), is a very important piece of the "home" puzzle too.
That is why I love that my parents try to get out to Colorado to see their grandboys...oh...and us too, I guess :)...at least once a quarter. Their visits make the miles seem less far. And their visits always make our home here feel even more like home. Like home has come home. During their past few visits we've even discussed them buying a condo here after my mom's retirement in a couple of years. They have a place to stay close to my sister already and then they'd have a place to stay here, and they could swap time between the two. It would be perfect!!
This Labor Day weekend visit was amazing as usual. We didn't really have anything scheduled, and with the Subaru still in the shop getting windows replaced, we couldn't really get anywhere all together anyhow. The only time we did all pile in the car, with my dad and I in the back, was to make the drive up to church on Sunday morning. But the days were still full because we spent them enjoying our time together.
The weekend included: walks around the block and around the brown-space, a round of golf at Gleneagle, lunch at a Thai place just around the corner, celebration of Ben's birthday at Art Sports, delectable dinners and delicious breakfasts, bike rides along the trail and at the BMX park, A LOT of projects done around the house (my dad and Adam were going project-crazy this weekend!), and a grown-up night out for dinner and a movie. And I have to say it again, it was SO great having my parents here to cheer me on for my run; I think my mom was as excited as I was!
I was blessed with two amazing people for parents, I admire them so much and I thank God for them every day. And the gift of them keeps giving to my family today. It feels so far away, but we can't wait until Christmas when we will see them again!
