1:10.28

In September 2004 I ran a half marathon. That is a story in it's own right.

Over the last eight years, my enthusiasm for running hasn't waned, but my actually running totally has. I ran (or rather, jogged) a 5k here or there, but haven't really been "a runner" like I once was.

Last fall a bunch of my friends ran a 10k not far from here. I was barely two months postpartum and didn't think I could work my way up to 6 miles. But I said I would run it this year. (Again, it was more like jogging.)

I trained. But I have to admit, it is hard to figure out when to run when you have three kids. I ran twice a week, never for very long, and then one day I realized that the race was in 3 weeks and I could barely run 2.5 miles. I kicked it up a notch, but it seemed the world was against me. I would plan on running and then it would be blustering outside and I couldn't take Jack and Katie in the stroller. Or I would plan on switching off with a friend and Jack would wake up puking. I think the farthest I went was 4 miles.

Then it was race day. On Saturday morning, amid the rain and mist and wind, and beautiful fall foliage, me and three other friends ran a 10k. And I did it! I jogged the entire way. About mile 5 my knees started killing me. But I kept going and I actually finished in better time than I thought I would.

I still came in last. There might have been one walker behind me. I'm not sure. Either way, I finished.

Right after we got done it started raining really hard. We had a lot of fun and I can't wait to do it again.

Then I came home, took a shower, and sat down to watch General Conference and put my feet up. 

i am a femininist

In the hallway by Ana's old kindergarten classroom is the statement, "To live is to grow and change."  This year has been a "living" experience for me in many ways. I've been growing and changing in my views of so many things. What I once saw as black and white I now see so differently.

One of those topics is the role of women and how the world views womanhood. In my younger, more "black and white" days, I would say that a woman's place is in the home. That seeking work outside the home is short-sighted. Please don't strike me down for that view.  I still believe that the most important thing that we do as woman is be a mother. That has not changed. I still am committed to being a stay-at-home mom and to be proud of that. But I see now that there are many ways to mother successfully and that women have so many gifts and talents that can be shared with the world.

I find it interesting that so many women who receive the praise of the world are usually not praised for the things that are womanly. Instead they are praised for being rough and "making it in a man's world." I want to see more praise for femininity, instead of praise despite femininity. Women have natural gifts that can bring so much goodness to the world.  Women see beauty. Women look beyond themselves and serve others. Women nurture. Women are naturally spiritually in tune. Women see problems differently.

Woman have a desire to contribute meaningfully to their families. We don't have to churn butter and sew our own clothes and smoke our own meat or wash our laundry by hand. But we should be "anxiously engaged" in doing good things. For some that means teaching art classes to children or doing photography. (Both incredibly talented friends of mine.) For others that means working in an office. And still for others it means letting their kids be involved in ballet and music and soccer and whatever else. (This is an absolutely wonderful talk on this very subject.)

So let's start a new movement. A "femininist" movement. Not a movement where we burn bras or demand equal rights. That has been done. A movement where we celebrate strength in femininity. A movement that we look for ways in which women contribute in womanly ways to the betterment of society. A movement that finds joy and contentment in what we are as women. We are mothers. We are also nurses and teachers and CEOs and city planners and dental hygenists and writers and a million other good things. And we are all women.

tell me a story

I like life stories.

Sometimes when I go downtown and I see all the old buildings and I think of how old Vermont is, I want to know the stories that go along with those big houses.

My Poppy told great stories. Many were stories of faith that have added so much to my life.

My mom doesn't tell too many stories from her life, but every once in a while, one comes out. One in particular that I remember is the story of when Dad was writing his masters' thesis. He didn't really know how to type, but my mom had taken a typing class in school, so into the night he would hand write a page and give it to my mom to type. She was pregnant with her 4th child and she would type up each page, and then lay down to doze while he finished the next page.  That story is such a tribute to my mother: always quietly doing her duty.

Since I like stories so well I often think of my life as a collection of stories. I wonder what stories I will tell when I have been married 30 or 50 years.  I will probably tell the story about the run-down little house we rented in Rupert on the other side of the tracks, and how I had to turn off the heat to vacuum in the winter so I didn't trip the circuit.

***

I wonder if I will tell today's story.

The story of how despite the rain, we packed the kids, kicking and screaming (literally), into the car with a picnic dinner to go "leaf peeping."

We endured the whines and the "how much longer?"s and wondered at God's magnificent paintbrush. Though the clouds blocked our view of the mountains, the rain made the colors surrounding us much more vibrant, and I found myself saying, "I'm glad that I live in this beautiful world Heavenly Father created for me."

Then as the kids settled down and the sun began to set and we headed home, I felt perfectly at peace as we listened to hymns and the rain on the roof and passed by farms and magnificent red and orange trees.

I think as the years go by and we look back to this time in Vermont we will say, "remember that time..." and we will tell this story.

maine attraction

Maine has been calling us since we moved to the East. So we scheduled a weekend to go and headed to the coast! We had three goals: camping, lobster, and the beach. We went with our good friends, the Dahle family, who happen to be amazing photographers. Hence, I didn't pull our my camera because I felt like an imposter.  But Dave got a few shots on his phone, so that will have to suffice.

We got to our campsite after dark and during a thunderstorm. Cool thing: seeing the ocean light up with a flash of lightning while we were driving into the campground. Not-so-coo thing: setting up our tent in the rain and dark and then trying to get Ana to settle back down to sleep once we moved her in.

  We went to the LL Bean store the next day.  "Store" is an understatement. Museum is more like it. They refer to it as the LL Bean "campus." We also shopped at outlets and had a grand ol' time.

We then went to the coast. Freeport has a rocky coast, so it wasn't much for swimming, but the kids found ample things to do. They threw clam shells against the rocks, watched some clammer, and watched some osprey up in their nests.

 That night was a free outdoor concert at the LL Bean campus, and we thoroughly enjoyed listening to the bluegrass music of a couple of bands. Fun times!

  

The next morning was a beautiful day, so we hit up a lovely little lobster shack on a wharf, then headed to the beach.

 

Everything was great about this trip. It was a great cap to our summer, and we can't wait to go again.

evening

I meant to sit down and write about our trip to Maine that we took almost a month ago.

But then tonight I took Jack and Katie outside after dinner and I had one of those moments when time seems to stand still and it stops my in my tracks.

Jack was running around in his winter coat. It wasn't that cold, but he doesn't really have a jacket.  Seeing him bundled up brought both a sense of contentment about the cooling weather and the joy that comes with the upcoming seasons.

Katie followed Jack around like she was a big kid. She copied his every move, and Jack ate it up. He loves that little babe, as do we all.

Time marches on. Life is good.

irresistible

Do not be deceived by this adorable little face. This baby is trouble.


It must be because she knows she is so darn cute it is irresistible. Her trouble making antics just make me laugh, which, in baby language, means "keep doing what you're doing because it is adorable." Like yesterday when she kept moving my baby barricade so that little Zach could get to the stairs. Or last night when she just didn't want to go to sleep so she was up until 11:30.



She knows how to work it for the camera too. I pull it out and suddenly she flashes her best smile. Even when she is covered in applesauce and graham cracker mush.



She loves to make people smile and laugh at her. This includes giving zrbtts and then looking around to see if anyone laughs. It also includes giving loves and kisses and tickling others. She even says "ticka-ticka-ticka" when she does it. How can you resist that?


Dave can't resist her either. But can you blame him? He walks in the door and she does this:

"Dada!!!"

I think we are in trouble. And while we are on the subject, does anyone have any great ideas on how to wean a one year old when the only way I can get her to sleep is nursing (or riding in the car)?

making the rounds

Last Friday, Katie woke up sick. She threw up several times that morning. By the time I got Jack off to preschool I was prepared to sit and cuddle my little babe, but alas, she was feeling much better and didn't want to cuddle.

Yesterday Dave wasn't feeling well and we ended up going to bed super early.

This morning it hit Jack.

Hopefully it will stop with him. I haven't had to deal with too much barfing as a mother, and I prefer to keep it that way.

my four year old

When we moved here 2 years ago, Ana was 4. Preschool really wasn't even on my radar. I wanted Ana home, and I am so glad I did that, even though occasionally she tells me she feels "left out" because she didn't ever go to preschool.

Jack is a different kid, though. He still gets a little anxious upon separation. And at weird times, too. Like when I drop him off at primary one random week. I knew that full-day kindergarten would be a huge adjustment for him, so we felt like he needed some preschool time. And luckily for us, he got into the preschool at Ana's school, so it works out nicely. For a while he was nervous about it, but over the summer he got more and more excited for his first day.

The day I left for Utah I dropped him off for his first day of Preschool. He goes 3 days a week for a few hours in the afternoon. It is working out well, and he loves it.




He acted like he knew what he was doing right away, and he still is very excited for preschool days.

A couple weeks ago for church, Ana begged me to let Jack wear this suit of Dave's. It is still a little big, but it made me realize how big my little boy is getting.




I do have to say, Jack is definitely 4. He is starting to be a little defiant, and gets pretty upset when he doesn't get his way. Another reason why preschool will be good for him.

Though I send him to preschool because it is what is right for him, I am enjoying my quiet time while the kids are at school and Katie is napping. It is just what I need to feel like I am on top of things. Or at least not quiet so far behind.

my eternal family

The last week has been filled with busy-ness. Katie and I flew home last Friday for my Grandpa's funeral. So between finding a flight and arranging rides and child care for the older two and packing and being gone I haven't had much computer time.

I was actually excited to go. It was the first time all of my siblings were together since my wedding over 7 years ago. It was wonderful to be with all of them together and we had a wonderful time chatting and joking and talking and laughing and staying up way too late.

The funeral was really nice. Poppy lived a full life and had a strong testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. He will be missed by his posterity, of which there are many, (13 children, 74 grandchildren) but we are glad he is reunited with his wife and one of his daughters.

Dave's Mom and Dad came down from Rupert and picked me up at the airport on Friday night. We stayed in Salt Lake that night and spent the day with them in downtown Salt Lake. I love Dave's parents and it was wonderful to see them.





Saturday night was spent at the hotel. Dave's sister Janet stopped by and we had a wonderful visit, and then one of my sisters came and we chatted it up. My dad had spent the day Saturday doing a bike race, so my parents didn't make it to the hotel until Sunday morning. We went to a sacrament meeting, hung out at the hotel, then headed to Morgan for the viewing. The viewing was packed with cousins and aunts and uncles, some of which I haven't seen for a long time.

Cousins!!! I love these girls.

Sunday night was spent swimming, chatting, painting toenails and having a marvelous time with the fam at the hotel. I love my sisters and my brother. I think they are awesome.

Monday was the funeral and luncheon with time to catch up with some cousins. 65 of Poppy's grandchildren were in attendance. It was incredible to be there together. Of course we had to snap a family photo. (Props to whoever can guess age order. )

Katie and I took a red-eye Monday night back home. She was stellar for all the flights. Mostly because of the 4 total legs she slept through 3 of them. The other one was only an hour so it was doable. She was ready to come home though. She saw a picture of Jack and Ana and got so excited that after that she kept bringing me shoes and pointing to the door.





It was wonderful to go, and it is great to be back. Hopefully we can get together before another 7 years go by. Or another funeral. I am so grateful that families can be together forever!

sweet is the peace the gospel brings

When we moved away, we made a stopped by my Grandpa's house in Utah. He was approaching his 90th birthday then. We visited for a bit with him and my aunt (my 2nd mom). As we drove away, heading for Vermont, I shed tears for Poppy because I knew it would be the last time in a long, long time.

Last night, at the age of 92, Poppy passed away.

He was a man of incredible faith and fortitude. Even in his last few days, he used his lucid moments to bear his testimony.

He is now reunited with his beautiful wife who died 10 years ago.

I've been thinking about Poppy today.

I've thought about every time I saw him he grabbed my hand really, really tight and said,

"Said Aaron to Moses,
'Let's cut off their noses.'
Said Moses to Aaron,
'They're better for wearin'. "

I thought about a few years ago when he told me his favorite hymn was "Have I done any good in the world today." And how he recited those words every evening and tried to live by that.

I thought about all the stories of incredible, miraculous faith he told at family reunions.

I thought about how much I loved spending time at their house, and seeing his beautiful flower garden.


Poppy will be missed. I am so glad for eternal families, and the "peace the gospel brings."