Well Red

On My Bookshelf

2012-01-26T23:03:00.000-08:00

Scanning my bookshelf, I was looking for a book I thought I had that would tell me when some of these early pregnancy symptoms will subside. As thrilled as I am for my sudden cup size increase, (when you are a AAA, there is nowhere to go but up!) the girls are sore.

Being the distracted person that I am, I picked up a different book. It's been in my library for over a decade, The Complete Poems of Elizabeth Bishop. And instead of reading up on pregnant maladies, I thumbed the pages and ended up devouring some of my most favorite pieces.

Twelve years ago, as a budding English major, I studied E.B. in one of my poetry classes. I studied a lot of writers. But Ms. Bishop woke something up inside of me. I wish I could put into words (I know she would be able to) the way The Moose, Sestina and The Sandpiper made me feel the world. Not see the world or be aware of the world or realize I was in the world. But I felt the world. And I wanted to be a part of it.

I know it was a stereotypical, ideological, college sophomore moment. But it was real, and those poems still make me feel something. Which is odd, because her poems, the ones I really love, are about ordinary moments in life. She captures a seemingly meaningless snapshot, and turns it into something eloquent and consequential.

I never imagined, twelve years ago, that I would be here. Pregnant for the second time with my fourth child. The world doesn't know who I am. My daily life full of routine and monotony. We get up. We have breakfast, then a nap. We eat lunch. We play. We have a snack. We play. Dad comes home. We have dinner, a bath, then bed.

Nothing extraordinary or significant.

Yet, these moments
are so incredibly
beautiful and important
to me.

If you'd like to read The Moose, (you really ought to) you should find it in a book and read it off real paper. If that's not possible, I have it for you here.

Pretend

2012-01-21T20:15:00.000-08:00

Between Christmas and a birthday, my kids play room is full of some really, fun stuff.

A play kitchen from Grandma D, a play tool bench from Gramma Linda, tractors and backhoes from Uncle Matt and Aunt Annie, (Christian actually calls his John Deere tractor "MattAnnie") a bunch of baby doll stuff, pretend food, pretend pots, we are stocked up. Consequently, we do a lot of pretending around here.

I've gotten into this. I'm doing some pretending of my own.

I haven't replaced the products I usually do my hair with in w-e-e-k-s. (Does that make it seem longer?) So I'm pretending this hair I've got going lately is a vogue, just out of bed, hit the Paris runway look. You know, messy and sexy. Is that in? I'm pretending it is.

My floor needed to be washed the other day. I swept thoroughly. Moved all the chairs into the other room. 30 minutes later, being distracted by something much more pressing than washing the floor (pick ANYTHING else) I pretended it looked great. I did sweep quite thoroughly.

Sometimes my to-do list is really long and boring. Not to mention overwhelming and sometimes downright exhausting to even think about. So, I pretend that catching up on Words With Friends counts as checking something off my list. (Shauna, I'm playing again. I promise I won't go two weeks before my next turn.)

It's been 50 degrees more than once in the past little while. I live in Northern Utah. It's January. This is somewhat of an anomaly. I'm pretending that spring is, like, next week! Even though its snowing right now. That's the fun part about pretending.

I think that's why I like playing kitchen with the kidlets so much. Plus, their french fry, egg, croissant stew they make is delicious!

WinCo Trip

2012-01-19T17:57:00.000-08:00

What good is a blog if you can't post things that nobody really cares about? Like my first trip to WinCo!

(But it's also good for posting things people DO care about. Like this. If you haven't already heard, I'm with child. Thanks so much for all the well wishes!)

But mix the saucy with the sauceless, that's what I'm all about. So here we go...

WinCo! The grocery store chain that everyone loves so much. It's supposed to be cheaper and better and blah, blah, blah. So, as a gal always looking to slice my grocery budget, I thought I would give it a try. I first posed the question of whether or not I should go to my magic eight ball. (facebook) Nine comments later, it was a resounding "definitely."

The lowlights:

It was huge and warehousey. If I'm going to grocery shop in a warehouse, I want to free samples around every corner.

Because of the warehouse feel, there weren't a lot of smiling grocers ready to help you find things. Which I also dig in a grocery store.

I had to bag my own groceries. In the words of a friend I once tried to usher through a self-checkout, "I like to be served."

The highlights:

Decent bulk food section. I was impressed. All kinds of flour, grains, and good stuff. Not bad.

I noticed some of the carts were rigged to fit THREE kids in belts. Awesome.

As promised, there were great prices. I'm sure overall, I saved some cash. But there were a few items that really made me say, "wwwhhhhaat?" (in a good way)

reverse osmosis water refills : .25 a gallon vs .39
big pack of fresh basil: .99 vs 3.19
Hebrew National hot dogs (my kids love hot dogs, these are the only ones I feel good about giving them on a regular basis) 3.49 vs 6.89

The jury is still out on the produce. Nothing has seriously disappointed me, but I haven't had anything that tastes like it came straight from the farm.

I do have a warning. If you go, you may see random items in bins, like tiny soda bottles. Tiny, 3 oz bottles for thirty-five cents. You may think to yourself, "Hey! What a great idea! How many soda cans have I left half-full?" You throw a couple in your cart.

Sigh. Be careful. I've put my experience in storyboard format. It's an important lesson.

Ooo! Can't wait to try my tiny soda!

Gulp, guzzle.

Gaaack!

I want my thirty-five cents back.

So there you have it. My WinCo review.

Have you ever wrote a post and thought, whhhhhaaaaaat? (in a bad way) Yet, I'm still going to post this silly thing.

Baby Makes Six

2012-01-15T08:23:00.000-08:00

The windows are down on a warm summer day and we are cruising to some little lunch spot we've been wanting to try. Just the two of us. A comfortable silence settles when a favorite song comes on the radio. He looks over at me and smiles during the chorus. The words remind him of us. I smile back. We are happy. And so in love.

This little vignette with my husband of six years popped into my head last night as I was getting dressed and kind of in shock at how big my belly has grown. I'm 3 months pregnant. (Go ahead and read that last sentence again. It's not a typo.) I'm not sure why that particular memory came flooding to my tired mind with such clarity.

It's probably because I really loved those days of just the two of us. But I also really couldn't wait for them to be over. I feel lucky to have been so aware of how wonderful it was to go out to dinner on a Tuesday just because. Or take a 2 hour nap together on Sunday. Or sleep in until 10 on the weekends. But those days are over. For now. Maybe my subconscious has been looking forward to when they will start up again. Or maybe just reminding me that what we have together, both then and now is really, really great.

Because we just extended our delay of sleeping in and Tuesday nights out a little longer. The little bean that is cooking inside me right now was a serendipitous, spontaneous surprise. Really a miracle, given our history.

So I won't waste one minute (I already had my moments of panic and fretting two months ago - I'm done) complaining about having a baby in the middle of two-year old triplets. Or waste one second wondering where I'm going to have the gumption, where-with-all or energy to do this. Because I've already shed too many tears in the past over other women's comments of this very nature. When it was just the two of us. I hated to see even a hint of disappointment when a pregnancy announcement was made, whatever their reason. It turned my heart to cement. It was too much to ask to be forgiving of their fertile womb. (I've since mended ways of this kind of thinking. Before the kids got here, thank goodness!)

I asked for this. Not this EXACT situation, granted. But I pleaded, none the less, for a little family to love and cherish. I put my heart and soul on the alter and said to take it all. I didn't want to be in charge anymore. I was willing to go and do what was asked of me. God heard me. So how I can be anything less than grateful?

We're having a summer baby!

(and just the one. singular. confirmed by ultra-sound in case you were wondering.)

Also, this scripture has been running around in my mind for the last 11 weeks or so.

Two Year Olds

2012-01-06T20:57:00.000-08:00

Two years ago, during this hour, I was having contractions.

Big ones. Doctors and nurses were in and out, checking the magnesium drip I was being given to try and stop the contractions. The big ones.

I was in labor at 28 weeks, not ready to be a mom. Worry and fear are weak adjectives to describe what I was feeling. Would they survive this early? If they did, what kind of health problems would result from being born 3 months early? Three months early. If I wasn't trying to focus and breath through those stupid contractions, I would've been sobbing.

Because if they did survive, and were healthy, what about my own shortcomings and inexperience? I was just supposed to raise three kids the same age at the same time with no prior experience? It felt like a major mistake was made in the admin department of heaven somewhere. Me?!? Mom to triplets?!?

But they did come. My little 28 weekers, just over 2lbs. My worst fears were never realized. Only the secondary, minor ones. Because we all eventually came home from that hospital, healthy. But the inexperienced mom part is still a reality.

But I work through that with lots of prayer, a few cry sessions from time to time and frequent treats from an understanding spouse. The same guy who was with me with every contraction. The one who fills in the holes when mom just has nothing left. We all adore him.

My little ones are all sleeping now, on the eve of their 2nd birthday. My healthy, happy, busy toddlers. Those worries of sick preemies seem so distant compared to what kind of shenanigans they are up to now. I'm exhausted at the end of every day.

And I couldn't be happier about it. Or more grateful.

Happy Birthday little miracles. Mommy loves you.

Happy New Year

2012-01-05T14:57:00.000-08:00

Cheers and toasts for 2012! Here is to happy two-year olds. Here is to toasting and celebrating things late. Here is to more songs with my darlings. Here is to teaching them not to touch the buttons on mommy's computer before we are done with our song.

Happy New Year everyone! Much love and thanks to everyone who reads this blog.

The Days After

2011-12-27T21:01:00.000-08:00

So it begins.

Those cold and long days after Christmas. Tree still up. Halls still decked. Fridge full of leftovers in the form of an over-indulgent breakfast casserole.

I know it has to all come down eventually. That's the hardest part about these days after. Going out to the garage to fetch my giant, plastic totes seems daunting (and freezing).

I'll give it a few more days. We did, after all have a wonderful few days of being merry and bright. So I'll let it all linger just a while longer.

Sausage casserole, anyone?

My Christmas Decor (or lack thereof)

2011-12-21T21:51:00.000-08:00

Is there such thing as The Martha Stewart Syndrome? I'm too lazy to check facts right now. Let's pretend there is.

Here is my definition of having The Martha Stewart Syndrome:

Your Christmas celebrations, decorations, food, traditions, sugar cookies and any other effort you put into holiday time at your house is NOT good enough.

Harsh, right? This syndrome can creep up on you if you don't have your guard up. It almost hit me this year. Almost. I recognized it though. I saw it lurking in my window, judging my empty mantle and complete lack of garland on every post and railing we have.

In fact, it came close to halting me from even opening my totes, full of eclectic yuletide cheer, peeking through my blinds, asking,

"What's the theme here? Nothing matches! Why don't you have a snowflake tree? Or a vintage collection of silver bells in your hutch? You haven't even baked cookies yet? Did you see _________'s place? Sheesh. Their house looks waaay better than yours. Don't you even like Christmas?!"

These are the thoughts it sends my way. But like I said, it almost got me. I have my wee ones to thank for stopping the ugly thing from actually coming inside. It started when we set up our tree. Our poor, little tree. At least that is how I have thought of it for the past few years. It looked just right in our first apartment. Our first Christmas, our little tree in our little living room. It was perfect.

But then we moved to bigger living rooms, and suddenly, the tree wasn't good enough. I was still thinking this when we hauled up the box from the garage. The MSS (Martha Stewart Syndrome) was whispering in my ear that now we had kids, we had to go cut down an eight foot Douglas Fir and flock it and get coordinating bulbs, bows and baubles to adorn it.

But we didn't. We set up our little, fake tree, hung non-matching, uncoordinated ornaments and my little guys loved. every. second. of it. I was humbled and sent MSS on it's way. You would think I learned my lesson from the Whos. Seriously. Christmas isn't in a giant, flocked tree.

Days later, I pulled out my totes of random Christmas decorations and adorned my house in holiday cheer. I unwrapped each little figurine from my $12 nativity I bought our first Christmas together. It will probably always be my favorite.

We've been singing lots of Christmas songs together. Today, Sunny climbed in my lap and said, "Baby GG?" (Baby Jesus) She's been doing this lately. It means she wants me to sing Away in a Manger.

So I sang to her, the same song, four times at her request. Then she smiled at me, climbed off my lap and went off to play again.

We may never have to buy another bell, bauble or bulb ever again. That was enough.

Merry Christmas.

Pass the Reinbeer

2011-12-19T09:20:00.000-08:00

According to my google stats, a myriad of random people have been coming across my blog when they search for "reinbeers."

You know it! I know it's from this amazing post. That was quite the celebration. Reinbeers have shown up at our Christmas parties since that year. Just not with the same gusto and zeal. Christmas of 2009, one of them came to visit me in the hospital when I was trying not to have my babies. Last year, shoot. Can't say I can remember last year. But this year, oh yeah baby. This is the year of their return, marked with an elaborate story line that may or may not involve a squash. Or a banana.

Squash or not, it will probably be a little less dark than '08. Probably. But I make no promises. I'll follow the reinbeer muse wherever she takes me.

Merry Reinbeer Christmas!

(I'm getting thirsty for that good ol' IBC deliciousness.)

Christmas Time is Here

2011-12-15T15:23:00.000-08:00

Lucy wanted a big, pink, aluminum tree. Charlie Brown came back with a small, sparse little green one instead.

I feel like Lucy sometimes. Except my pink tree is some 8ft fir, waiting to be found in the forest. We go in our horse drawn sleigh, bundled up, singing Christmas carols. We bring our giant home to decorate with ornate and elaborate ornaments, ribbon, tinsel, lights and one giant star on the top.

But really, sitting in our garage for eleven months, we have a tree we pull out of a box every year. Like Charlie Brown's tree, it seems to lose a few needles each time you touch it.

But it's ours. We don't need a pink, aluminum tree. We have each other. And our humble tree reminds me of a humble birth.

I love Christmas time.

Behind Door Number Three

2011-12-08T21:47:00.001-08:00

About a week ago I wrote this post. It was a pretty mushy one. I went on about stuff I loved. Of course my kids were the theme. They got the final sentence, if you will, about things that make me happy.

I finished writing it, feeling pretty good about my role as mother. I hit publish. As timing goes, it was also time to get the kids up from their nap. I could hear them chattering to each other while I was spell checking. (psh, who am I kidding? I never speel check.)

With a small glow still about my face, still basking in the warmth I had just felt from writing about the little darlings, I enter their room. Keep in mind, on the walk down the hall I had sent up a little prayer of gratitude. Because I was. So thankful for the posse I've been blessed to rear.

I open their door and a wall of smell hits me. My eyes are watering from the smell, so I have to wipe them to see what the source was. One of my angels who I had just thanked God for, was smearing things on her face that do not belong outside a diaper. The perpetrator was grinning from ear to dirty ear.

I dry heaved a little.

I know this is not a pleasant image. Forgive me for even relating the story with even a little detail. But it was such a powerful lesson for me.

My gut reaction was to be angry. I mean really.

I have to bathe a kid, scrub a crib, sanitize every area within their tiny arm's length, gather the sheets and blankets for the wash---all while two others are becoming inpatient because they are still sitting in their crib while a sibling seems to be having a fun bath. (It was not fun.)

But that dang feeling of warmth and love was still fresh in my heart and assaulted nostrils. My mom always says that God has a sense of humor. I am starting to agree with her.

Me: Dear Lord, I am so thankful for these darlings in my life. Thank you.

God: (chuckle) I'm glad to hear you say that daughter, with such sincerity too. Enjoy the next 20 minutes.

During the clean up process, between dry heaves and trips to the bathroom and garage for supplies, I was calm and collected. I was also set up for reflection.

There are parts of this parenting gig that are tough. I'm not just talking yucky messes either.

I'm not even going to start on the topic of the only thing I ever wear are t-shirts covered in banana smears and snot stains and not being able to tell the difference between the two or the fact that I even try to tell. That's a different post, for a different day.

Have you ever worked in customer service and come home from work feeling like you were yelled at all day by unhappy customers?

Yeah. There are moments when all I see are unhappy clients, screaming in my face because a fellow customer stole the truck they were playing with.

Ever served tables and have a customer send back their food because it wasn't to their liking?

Yeah. My guests throw their entrees on the floor in disgust. Sometimes it was their favorite dish the

week before.

You expect me to eat THIS? You must be joking. I only eat cheese quesadillas the 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 1st Tuesday of the month! Except on a month that has less than 31 days! Why don't you care?

Even with the snarky dialogue I make up and really gross stuff that sometimes goes on around here, I really did mean that prayer I said a week ago, as I was walking towards certain mayhem.

In fact, it was because of that stinky mayhem that made me realize what a lucky gal I am.

I forget sometimes, that 5 years ago, I was begging for messes to clean up. I was pleading for a little dependent that needed me to teach them, love them and walk beside them.

I asked for at least one. I have three.

While we are still working on the whole "let's not take our diaper off and investigate what's inside" lesson, I hope they are getting the "mommy loves me" lesson. Because I do.

I hope they will always know how deep my gratitude is cemented in my once broken heart.

I hope they will always know how they helped heal me and make me whole.

I hope they always know the lessons they have taught me, both during our time together now, and before they even arrived, have made me a better person.

I hope everyone leaves their diaper on, forever more and are all potty trained within 24 hours of attempting to do it.

(I'm a woman of simple hopes and dreams.)

I hope they know how much I love them. I hope, I hope, I hope.

Not Alone

2011-12-04T21:54:00.001-08:00

It's hard not to stare. I mean, three little faces in ONE shopping cart? I'd certainly stop the driver of that rig and ask a few questions.

It's a common reaction when seeing my crew in public. In fact, some reactions are so intense, you would think we were the only triplet family for miles and miles and miles. Not another set of triplets in the state!

"You mean their ALL the same age! NOOOOO!" The purple-haired woman says, clutching her shocked heart.

But, alas, it's not true. We are not the only family with 3 kids that share the exact same birthday. There are more of us. Much more. We've recently hooked up with a Facebook group of triplet families. And they do stuff! Like, throw parties and stuff! So on Saturday night, we found ourselves in a noisy church cultural hall with dozens and dozens of kids going in every direction. It was maddening and crazy and I'm so glad we went.

There are plenty of strange emotions that come from being mama to multiples.

Worry from the thought of their individuality being squashed by the mere fact they have a collective name. The triplets.

Guilt from constantly being a scene stealer at larger family functions or reunions. "Oh, the triplets! Look at them!" Meanwhile, equally darling nieces, nephews, grandsons and granddaughters are not being fussed and fawned over.

Fear of future therapy visits because you subconsciously gave your lower birth weight child the biggest piece of (fill-in-the-blank) at the dinner table for years. You didn't think anyone noticed. They all noticed.

Sigh. Weird, weird thoughts.

So, here, at this mass gathering families similar to ours, we weren't alone! True, I only had about 5 half-conversations because we were all wrangling and chasing and if a parent didn't have to wrangle and chase, they were helping someone else track down a missing baby.

So, none of the above ~~irrational fears~~ concerns were actually discussed, but it was enough.

It was enough to meet moms of older triplets who were put together and happy and seemed to somehow survive their kids being 23 months old.

It was enough to meet moms of triplets that were close to in age to mine. Like we belonged to this secret band of warriors. We didn't have to talk about our upcoming battles, we just knew we were in it together.

It was enough to see other daddies balance, juggle, and sacrifice their own dinner to help their munchkins eat. For some reason, this one gave me hope for all mankind.

And what I loved most, is that this was the one place where I couldn't even play the triplet card! For a few hours, we were all normal, and no one was staring or asking me if they all belonged to me and if they were triplets. No gasps or sighs or "oh, I would kill myself." (Still get this one from time to time.)

It was like a giant therapy session with a delicious potato bar and cookies for dessert.

Oh, and lots of darling siblings palling around in threes. Can't wait for the next session. I mean, party.

Happy

2011-12-02T10:56:00.001-08:00

I'm really enjoying the sunshine lately.

The kids took a fabulous morning nap. So fabulous in fact, I was able to read every section in the paper. Not just my normal, flip to the comics section. That is usually the first priority when I have

limited paper-reading time. How about those 100mph winds yesterday, huh? Whew nelly! (That's the kind of thing us paper-readers say.)

I just made hummus. With lots of garlic. It just might be gone before lunch is over.

I went running in the 25 degree weather this morning with a friend. She happens to be in the middle of her first chemo treatment. Chemo be danged. She wanted to run, so I happily and eagerly came along.

I just read this post, which tipped my already sparked Christmas spirit into a burn. I really do love celebrating the birth of the Savior. I hope I can relay that my little munchkins, who happen to be up from their nap now. They are saying "Hi!" to each other from across the room.

There aren't many things I love more than hearing them talk to each other in a happy, 'hey, you're still here too, I really like you,' kind of way.

They make me happy. So does the sunshine, a fresh morning paper, hummus, running, and Christmas.

But those three? They make me ridiculously happy.

Cheers to a great Friday!

Finally

2011-11-29T10:30:00.000-08:00

When I found out I was having triplets, I thought, "Hooray! Little workers to do chores for me." I'm glad they are finally of age to start pitching in around here.

We have LOVED this extended gift of fall weather. When there is no snow in the valley after Thanksgiving, that is something to be thankful for. At least for this non-skiing/non-snowboarding/don't-have-enough-snowsuits-or-boots-for-the-crew-yet family. (I like to leave you with a sentence that has no structural integrity whatsoever. It's my rebel side coming through.)

**Also, for the record, the fence was like that before we moved in. My kids are crazy, but not that crazy.

Our Thanksgiving

2011-11-28T10:41:00.001-08:00

I had big plans for this Thanksgiving. Big plans. I was going to take the best pictures and document every moment of our lovely, four day weekend. (We love the long weekends with daddy.)

The big day happened to be at our house. I was going to make darling little turkeys with everyone's name on them for place settings.

I was going to come up with some incredible dish that would be a new Thanksgiving tradition for our family for the next 30-40 years. See? Big plans.

Notice my use of "had" and "was" and the general tone of "coulda, shoulda, woulda?" Yea. I didn't do any of those things.

The only pictures I managed were my kids watching Polar Express with their cousins and Gabe watching a youtube video about backhoes with his Uncle Matt. They both have a *slight* obsession with trucks and tractors. Did you know that the love of giant trucks and machinery is an inherited trait? It is. Trust me.

So cute how their older cousins wanted to hold them on their lap. Are you wondering why they are watching through bars? We watch movies on my laptop around here. Their little fingers are too curious to let them alone with it. I know, my kids are going to be telling their therapist about the constant bars and gates they had in their life. I know.

Gabe with Uncle Matt, watching backhoes! See the blurry, yellow thing in the little man's hand? Yup, that's his backhoe.

No amazing, new dish was created. I did cook a pretty mean turkey and enough stuffing to feed a small village. (My husband's family REALLY love their stuffing. I wanted to ease everyone's mind about leftovers.) The place settings? HaHAHAHAHA ha ha haha heeee, he he, haha. I can't believe I even THOUGHT about that one. Yeah right.

But, despite not having the perfect holiday weekend, it was the perfect holiday weekend.

We spent time with people we love. We gathered and ate delicious food. We saw two grandmas, seven aunts, seven uncles, nine cousins and two cats. (Four of that tally was via Skype, but I'm still counting it.) We had many, many seemingly mundane moments with just the five of us that were the kind of moments I want to bottle and keep on a shelf and open everyday to remind me how wonderful it is to have a these beautiful children in my life with a husband that loves me.

Nothing overly spectacular or extraordinary happened. But having a few days of pjs until lunch and leftover turkey sandwiches was some kind of wonderful. It was enough to get me through until the next time.

Or at least through Monday, my great and terrible day of laundry. But it's just a reminder of more blessings. We have plenty of clothes. We have a lot to be grateful for.

In case you're curious about one of the things that is spurring on one of my little guys love of big trucks, click here to see his favorite backhoe video. I actually heard him say "backhooooe" in his sleep the other night. Not joking.

We Both Work From Home

2011-11-21T11:52:00.001-08:00

Chris has been working from home lately.

Awesome, you say. Right? Well, kind of.

You see, my day is filled with running around. Refereeing fights over mini backhoes and tattered books. Wiping tears from a game of chase gone wrong. Changing diapers. Washing hands. Changing diapers. Washing hands again. Running loads of laundry. Washing sippy cups and trays eight-hundred times. Sweeping floors. Etcetera. Etcetera. Etcetera.

To sum up, I just seem to move around a lot all day. Normal stay-at-home-mom stuff. With Chris' job, he is on his laptop a lot. On his headset a lot. So, guess where he has picked his "home office" to be?

I walk in our room at three in the afternoon, after frantically running back and forth, trying to shuffle little people in their beds for some afternoon "quiet time." I just finished running up and down the stairs to the playroom, because the books I brought for "quiet time" were not the right ones. (Can you guess why "quiet time" is in quotes?)

So after strolling in our room after running a 5K through my kitchen, thinking I need to put on shorts because of the beads of sweat dripping from my forehead, I see him, in our bed, with the covers pulled up, pillow behind his back, "working" away on his laptop.

Of course he is working! I shouldn't have used the quotes. He works very hard for our family. In fact, he has always chosen the types of jobs where he doesn't have to put on a suit and be a 9-5er. It's what makes him happy. I'm proud of him for that. But come on! Does he have to pick our big, comfy bed?

When I walk in, I want to see him sitting at the desk, with one phone on each ear, maybe even wearing a green, plastic visor and saying phrases like, "Buy!," "Sell!," "No! Tell New York we have to wait until next month..." You know, gettin' stuff done phrases. It would also help if he had an accent like he's a newspaper editor from 1928. It's not right for adults in this household to be snuggled up in bed before 9pm. Not right I tell you!

However, I secretly love having him just behind the door as I shepherd, console and love the darlings that share our DNA. Last night, I unintentionally sabotaged his DVR'd football game by "suggesting" he relax a little when it came to keeping such an intense eye on our brood.

I meant to say that they needed to experience some things for themselves or else they won't learn important life lessons. What he heard is that I think they should try climbing the roof sometime to see what it was like.

Then he "suggested" to me that I should keep in mind how little they still are. They are still fragile, even though they are bigger than two pounds. What I heard is that I am a hippie mom who lets her kids run wild in the streets.

It took a few more "suggestions" back and forth to get to the bottom of what we both meant. Turns out we are both right. How about that?

Then it hit me. This parenting gig is hard. Like, really hard. So I'm glad I have a best friend to help navigate these turbulent, tantrum-filled waters. There is no handbook to these darling monsters. We are writing it as we go.

So what he picks the most comfortable spot in the entire house to make calls and spreadsheets from? It just means my handsome, co-author to our future best-seller, "Raising Triplets and Staying Married: The How To Guide" is only a hallway commute from hugs, kisses and cheers from all of his biggest fans.

A few of our work day activities...

Group discussions on which photo booth effect is best for our company flyer.

Going outside to get the creative juices flowing for our next board meeting and sales presentation.

How is your job? Anyone ready to egg my house for complaining about my spouse being home?
Any suggestions on surviving the upcoming winter? I think my co-workers are going to be a restless bunch.

Last Race of 2011

2011-11-16T20:06:00.001-08:00

It's time to close the season on a fantastic year of running.

Three 5Ks.

Two half-marathons.

Two marathons.
One relay.

Lots and lots of miles. I stopped keeping track back in August. But I'm pretty sure I've logged close to 600 miles. Or 966 kilometers. Now that sounds impressive. I think I'll say that. I ran almost 1000 kilometers this year!

I ran the Top of Utah Marathon with a 4:32 time. Then took a 6 week break of not running because of my silly knee. Then I ran the Halloween Half Marathon. Two hours and seventeen minutes. Give or take a few seconds.

I think I'm officially done with races for 2011. While I've already scouted out a few possibilities for next year, it's time to have no training plan or pre-race day meals.

Don't get me wrong, I'll still be running. Of course I'll still be running! Phew! I just scared myself for a minute.

So, lucky you! No more incessant posts about all my races. For this year anyway. But one last pile of pictures from my last race, the Halloween Half.

I've got the usuals...

The usual, early morning, crazy shot of me alone in the bathroom before I leave. (why?)

The usual, pre-race, awkward, thumbs-up, having your picture taken by a stranger.

My "costume."

The usual proof of what race I ran.

It was a big race. One of the biggest I've done. We had two start times. This was the first wave.

So, lots of crazy costumes out there that day. I just wish these guys had the waitress with the giant ribs. That would've been really cool.

So great to have someone cheering your name as you make your way toward the finish! Thanks Galleys.

It was a beautiful 13.1 miles.

Until next time, race plans and training miles. I'll see you next time around.

Blossoming into Toddlerdom

2011-11-14T21:00:00.001-08:00

We all practiced saying "yes" today. Even mommy. Do you know how many times I hear the word "no" in a day?

Neither do I. But pick a double digit number and multiply it by three. Which got me thinking. If I hear "no" a lot, then they must hear it a lot too. It's never a singular "no" either. It's always no, no, no.

Something has happened this last month. My babies are real, legit toddlers. I know this sounds strange, but it has gotten really hard. I know you're thinking, "uh, hasn't it always been hard?" Eh, yes and no.

Sure it was tough when everyone needed to eat every 3 hours. But I also had a lot more extra people coming in and out, offering their services. I also lived close to family who would stay late, come early, middle of the day, whatever.

But here we are in this new stage of independence and choice. And it's just us, until 6pm, when dad is welcomed home by cheers of joy and relief from all four of us.

Monday at lunch:

"Sunny, do you want a graham cracker?"

"Noooooo! Nooooooo! No. No. No! Nooooo!" Followed by wailing, cries and exasperated moans and groans.

Uh. Okay. No graham cracker.

Monday at lunch, 10 minutes later:

"Sunny, what's wrong, why are you crying?"

"Crack-er!" (crying) "Crack-er!"

"You want a cracker?"

Smile. "Ya!"

So it goes. I don't want to pin it all on Sunny either. Insert any one of my children in the above scenario. You could even plug me into the wailer role sometimes. Shoot. More often than not, probably.

But I don't mean for this to be a complainer post. It's not. It's really meant to be the opposite. I suppose I should get around to that.

Lately, I've been really thankful for the experienced mothers in my life. The ones who have hindsight, years and wisdom on their side. Like an aunt who recently pulled me aside, pointed to my darlings running amuck in the church cultural hall and flat out told me:

"Uh, this is a really hard stage. Like, really hard. But it does get better. So just pick your battles and don't cave on what's important."

She must have been inspired. Because at the time, they weren't quite as headstrong and sure-willed as they are now. It pretty much happened the next day though. I didn't forget what she said.

I'm also thankful for a conversation with another aunt (there are a bunch of great women in my life) who said a simple thing that I might actually sew into a pillow as soon as I have the time. I was bemoaning the fact that my house seems to be in a constant state of disarray and that I didn't think that every room would EVER be clean all at the same time. Just stating facts about our life. She said:

"Just remember, you're raising kids, not a house."

Yup. I am. It's a pretty important job too. I do take it very serious. Even when I feel completely unfit for the task at hand. Even when I think God must have made a mistake when he assigned these three, STRONG, little spirits to come learn life lessons by me. Even when some days I feel like a full-time referee instead of a mother. Even then.

One mother, still raising her last one, said this to me about 4 years ago, when my reality was more doctor appointments and fertility tests than diapers and sippy cups. She's one of my favorite wisdom endowed mothers. She also happens to be mine. She said:

"You know Kara, for some reason, I just see you someday with a bunch of little hands at your knees, all looking up to you and wanting something. You're going to look back at this (at me being barren that is) and wonder why you were in such a hurry for it to all happen."

Call it mother's intuition. Call it inspiration. But she was right. I think about this sometimes. Especially when I actually do have six hands at my knees, all looking up at me, wanting something. I remember how wonderful that image sounded years ago. Then, I remember to be grateful.

Because I am. So very grateful.

My New (potential) Business

2011-11-08T06:30:00.000-08:00

I have a brilliant new business idea.

I am going to open my own self-defense studio and teach lessons about...what else, self-defense!

(Although I'm a little worried my target audience might be a little small -- both in numbers and stature.)

The people who will really benefit and enjoy my classes will be the people who are forced to get into a seat with buckles on a regular basis. I've geared my entire curriculum to this population.

I have three basic moves, each inspired by little people in my life who have seemingly perfected these very useful moves.

1. The Dead Fish - when someone attempts to pick you up to put you in your seat, simply go limp. Pretend you have no bones and just melt into the floor. Once on the floor, squirm and flop like a fish out of water. It also helps if you scream like someone has just cut off both your big toes. This move is also popular when someone takes your hand and leads you in a direction you don't want to go.

2. The Board - you might not be as skilled at the Dead Fish, which is where the Board will come in handy. When someone actually gets you into the position of the chair, and you are about to be buckled, pretend you have no hip joints and straighten yourself out. Just like a board. Also, screaming does help distract the perp, they won't be able to decide whether to cover their ears or pursue the buckling any further.

3. The Cyclone - This move only works before you are brought to the chair. When you are picked up, just start spinning and spinning in their arms like a big, crazy cyclone. This one is not for the faint of heart however. You must appear to have no fear as to where you might land if you are dropped.

Great plan, huh? I just need a little start up capital to get it off the ground. If you are looking for a business investment, let me know. I'd be a great business partner. I'd only ask you to babysit on the days that end in Y.

From the Desk of a Busy Mom with Busier Kids.

Epic

2011-11-07T10:09:00.000-08:00

I have a quick Monday morning shout out to a couple of current heroes.

First you swim 2.4 miles, then you bike 112, then you run a quick marathon. A MARATHON, after your swim and bike. Twenty. six. point. two.

Then, you are an Ironman.

Congratulations Steve and Greg.

We'll be raising a couple of sippy cups of milk this morning to toast your epic adventure!

Just put themselves through 13 hours of swimming, biking and running, and STILL smiling!

FYI - Steve is my friend Steph's husband. Explains all the pink! Also, this is NOT Greg's first Ironman. Both incredible people.

I'm off to have my own Monday morning Ironman. But instead of 3 legs, I'll be chasing 6. (bu dum ching! anyone? eh?)

You see, it's bread, but it's also tofu...

2011-11-02T23:16:00.000-07:00

It started the summer of 2009. A quest for more calories. The right kind of calories that is. When one body is in charge of making three, you tend to think in caloric terms. Especially since one night you go to bed with muscles in your thighs and the next morning, they are gone. That's how quick the trio zapped my resources.

Then, the three bodies came early and were tiny and besides the whole breathing thing, the only other thing we talked about was their FOOD! Are they eating yet? Are they eating with their mouths yet? Are they eating with mom yet? Their tiny bottles were measured after each feeding. Extra calories were added to each bottle. Calories, eating, calories, eating, calories eating. It was a big focus.

So I blame my continued focus on calories and eating on our hospital days. Because my kids are still small for their age. Even their adjusted age. Real age: 22 months. Adjusted age: 19 months. Even for 19 month olds, they are on the small side. I know a lot is just who they are and I shouldn't worry as much as I do. So they are smaller than average? Big deal. (I'm also trying to ween myself from this whole "adjusted" thing completely.)

But I can't help but plot and plan how to add extra calories, (the right kind) protein and good fat to their food. Especially when one of my monsters is the kind of picky that throws his food on the floor FIRST, then says he doesn't like it.

You remember this post about my pickiest guy? I asked for ideas and suggestions in making bread a substancial meal. You came through for me. I now add ground flax seed to our waffles and anything else breaded or bread like. All of the suggestions were great! Thanks. But I tried a recipe called TOFU BREAD! There's tofu, in the bread my friends. Everyone needs a friend like Kelsey. Not only will she find such a recipe like tofu bread, but also has one of her own for something called wheat meat. Love it. She is my alter food ego. I'm the Clark Kent nerd. She's the food Superman.

You'll be very happy (or grossed out) to know that every single person in my household liked it. I even have photographic proof of my two biggest doubters. (Gabe and his dad.)

Chris wanted to retake this picture because he said I looked "evil." Not evil. Sneaky. There's tofu in that pan!

Professional posing at work here.

The universal sign for "this bread is good!"

Uh, still clicking huh?

Getting weird about the camera. I like it, I like it! Stop taking pictures of me.

First bite...hmmm.

Alright, I'll go for another.

This smile means tofu bread is now in our rotation.

This guy is a VERY focused eater. He rarely looks up when hungry.

Just checking in again, still eating it.

She's thinking that she isn't sure why I take pictures with my phone. They rarely turn out. She's very smart.

Anyone notice the hot dogs the kids were having with their bread? If you're confused, and wonder what the big talk about "right calories" was all about -- it's a fine balance between wanting to fatten them up, giving them good food and them actually eating what I put in front of them. So I buy Hebrew Nationals. Kosher hot dogs! They love them. I know what's in them. The end.

Also, since last airing grievances about what's lacking in diets around here, iron came up. Sheesh! It never ends. So, I am now looking into ways to work spinach into places it has no business being. I'll keep you updated. Because I know that's what the people want, spinach updates!

That, and pictures like these...

The next recipe I'm working on. I call it Munchkin Soup. Looks delicious, doesn't it?

Happy tofu bread making! (You know you want to try it.)

BOO!

2011-10-30T21:17:00.000-07:00

I'm a big fan. Big fan.

I love Halloween. I'm not a guts and gore Halloween lover. But I love the dress up and get candy part. It's especially fun that my kids don't have a choice about what costume I put them in. We can do family themes for a while!

The day will come when they will choose their own costumes and I will say, "What does a princess, a turtle and Batman have in common? What is the common tie? How can mom and dad fit into that mix!?" They will roll their eyes, as I often imagine them doing in all my future scenarios.

Last year, we were a zoo. It was fun to do a more literal approach to our actual lives. We did feel a little zooish a year ago. We still do actually.

This year, we decided to fly to the second star to the right, and go straight on til morning.

If you're wondering why my three toddlers are all just sitting on the stoop, posing for pictures, being so well behaved, it's because I am a perfect mother and have taught my nearly 2 year olds to always follow directions at all times and....BWAHH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHA HAAAA HAHAHAA! Sorry, I almost pulled that off with a straight face. They were waiting for their ~~bribe~~ fruit snacks.

Of course what would the lost boys and Tink be without Wendy and Peter Pan, right? Right? Actually, we could leave it at these three little punkins and everyone would be happy with that. But mom will always be that 10 year old girl, planning the most awesome costumes with her sisters and bff across the street. Don't we look ready for a party? (Which we were headed to after taking these pictures.)

Apparently Wendy is the type to get her nightgown at a second hand store and doesn't notice the bottom stitching is coming undone. And Peter is the boy who never grew up, but can grow a pretty good beard. We're kind of a motley crew. Captain Hook doesn't stand a chance.

Let's try and get a picture with EVERYONE looking! Shall we?

Annnd, ready? Look at Grandma!

Ok, guys, look! Grandma is snapping her fingers and waving! Isn't that awesome? LOOK!

Nope. We tried.

Happy Halloween!

2011-10-28T08:37:00.000-07:00

I went to a funeral yesterday. My dear Uncle Marty passed away Monday. It was sudden and unexpected. In my religion, we believe that we have a chance to live with those who die before us. We believe that we will see them again. This can be comforting and help ease the pain of losing someone you love. But it is still hard. I believe that my Uncle Marty is happy and free from the pain and sojourns of this life. But the rest of us that are left to go on without those we love -- it is hard. Even with the faith that he will be with his family again, my heart still breaks to see my aunt and cousins grieve their husband and father.

But that is the way of things. How will they know the inexplicable joy of reuniting with him if they don't feel the intense heartache that I don't want to begin to imagine. He was warm and caring and full of love and life. Even if I can try to emulate a fraction of all his best traits, I will be a better person. He lived a good life. We will miss him so much.

I gave away a lot of extra hugs and I love yous yesterday. This life is short.

Monday Inspiration

2011-10-24T09:27:00.000-07:00

I heard this story yesterday in church. I loved it. I am needing a little extra uplift today. This helps.

I Don't Get It Either

2011-10-21T15:14:00.000-07:00

The other night I went to dinner with some friends. (Do you love how easily that sentence came? Like I do it every week?)

Talking with one friend, of course my kids came up. She said she hadn't seen them in a while and guessed they were looking pretty big. (They are.)

I told her to check out my blog. I maybe have put a few (ahem) pictures over the last year or so where she could see them grow.

Her: "I just don't get blogs."

Me: "Well ya see Lori, what you do is you click on "comment," then you can leave a comment about what you thought of the post."

Her: "No, I get it. I just don't get blogs."

Me: "Oh."

I felt silly. She probably really felt silly talking to such a silly person. All kinds of silliness in that 3 minute conversation.

I suppose my own blog adds to the whole "not getting blogs" attitude. What is this blog even about? Me? My kids? Do readers of this web log even know I have a husband? (I do. He's hot.)

It's why I like blogging. I have a space to be random and nonsensical and even sometimes find significance to everyday things I do. Like making soup and baking tofu bread. I've had ~~two~~ so many requests for the butternut squash soup I made the other day. So bookmark this post people! It's bound to become a favorite.

The tofu bread post is something you can look forward to. So check back, set an alarm, mark you calendars. What's more exciting than tofu bread?

Butternut Squash Soup

1 medium butternut squash, peeled and cut into chunks

1 small or medium yellow onion, diced

2 Tbl olive oil (or butter, I use olive oil for almost everything)

2-4 cloves of garlic, diced

4 C chicken broth

salt and pepper

nutmeg

In a large stock pot, heat oil. Add diced onion and garlic. Saute until onions are translucent.

Add chicken broth and squash chunks and bring to a boil.

Boil until squash is soft. (I just do a squish test with a spoon. When it squishes easily, it's done.)

With a food processor, blender or any other appliance that will puree your mixture, puree your mixture.

Obviously the squishier the squash, the easier it will puree.

Return to the pot, add salt, pepper and nutmeg to taste.

So good!

The bigger your squash, the creamier it will be. Keep extra broth aside in case you want it to be soupier. I like mine pretty thick.

Enjoy your bowl of fall.

This Is What Fall Is

2011-10-18T21:41:00.000-07:00

We got Booed. You know what that is, right? Your doorbell rings, you answer it, no one is there. But guess what is?

Treats!

I'm supposed to put the photocopied picture of a ghost in our window to make sure no one else Boos us. So no one else drops off treats on our door. I'm thinking of forgetting to put it up. C'mon! Free treats!

Squash for dinner. I like it all. Winter or summer varieties. Winter squash this time of year is particularly yumm-o. Tonight we had the butternut variety. In my favorite way.

Butternut Squash Soup!

(I don't think exclamation points are used enough these days. Just giving them a little run.)

I think I will share the recipe someday. It's like you're eating fall itself. A rich, decadent, sun drenched afternoon gives your taste buds a big warm hug. We paired this lovely fall afternoon with grilled cheese sandwiches and yam/potato combo of oven baked fries. Along with a beautiful fall day simmering in my bowl, I also experienced a small moment of bliss. My three toddlers AND husband were all quiet because they were ALL and enjoying their dinner. This momma was happy.

The kidlets enjoying their soup. We are working on the utensil thing. I think they'll get it before high school at least. They will eventually learn how to use a fork and spoon.

Sweaters. Is it weird I enjoy a cold kitchen floor in the morning? I love the cooler mornings this time of year. Mostly because I know the afternoon will be warmer. Come February, I will be cursing my stupid, freezing floor. But now, in this crisp morning, warm afternoons, cool evening type days, a girl needs a few sweaters. Thanks to my neighborhood Savers, (kind of into thrift stores lately) I now have a few new ones. New to me.

There is my fall snapshot for the day.

Does your neighborhood Boo each other? What should I leave on someone else's porch? Remember, they won't know it's from me. Shoot. I just thought of the whole ringing the doorbell and running thing. What if I trip over a bush?

Do you ever shop at thrift stores? I won't do underwear, stuffed animals or upholstered furniture. Everything else is fair game.

Favorite way to eat squash?

One of my favorite comic strips had an awesome! homage to the above mentioned punctuation the other day: click here!!!!!

New Old Plan and a Walk

2011-10-17T11:34:00.000-07:00

I'm sure most of you woke up and the first thing on your mind was how my no-pile-new-plan-hyphenated-life was going.

Well, I will sum up for you: semi-failure.

It was a failure because nothing drastically changed the way piles crop up around this place. But, I did seem to get a small handle on laundry. I'm counting that. Also, my no-pile plan turned out to be waaay more therapeutic than I ever would have anticipated! I feel like I've gone through a couple couch sessions. You should bookmark this page. Because there is good stuff here. Good stuff.

Thanks to my mom for this comment:

MrsD said...

Do you think "piling" is an inherited trait?

October 13, 2011 9:55 PM

Hmmm. Maybe it is mom. Maybe it is. Thanks. (Thanks as in, thanks for the insight. Not a sarcastic, "thanks for the lousy trait mooom.")

Also, this one from Kelsey was a real brain check, she should pretty much be on Dr. Phil as a guest contributor:

Kelsey said...

May I suggest you be a bit more lenient? It's not the size of the pile that should upset you, but the duration of time it has existed. Daily piles are just a sign of industriousness. It's not until the pile becomes a permanent part of the home that you should begin to loathe its existence.
Sincerely, The Keeper of Many Piles

October 15, 2011 12:57 PM

All I can say is true dat lady. True dat. So maybe I have a bunch of piles sometimes. Sometimes I don't have any. I'm ok with that.

I also had one offer for the laundress position. Annnd, you're hired Abby. How does a dollar and hour sound? Your benefits and compensation of our companionship will far outweigh the small paycheck. I've also been inspired to give a video tour of the play room. There is some serious logistics that have gone on around this house in light of having three, curious little souls.

We really like to go on walks. Sunny really likes her blue croc shoes. They like to tell me stories. We like to find the pretend owl in our neighbor's tree. We like to have our snack on the porch sometimes. They all really like to drink from mom's bottles she uses for long runs. (Good thing the belt came with three!) They really like freeze dried fruit from Costco. I think it's so-so. Do I always eat their snacks? You bet your last pile I do.

New Plan

2011-10-12T21:15:00.000-07:00

I made a decision late last night.

I am going to have a house that is ~~always~~ clean. We don't live in slop or anything, but I seem to always have piles everywhere.

Piles of laundry.
Piles of paper.
Piles of toys.
Piles of laundry.
Piles of tiny hair bands and combs.
Piles of shoes.
Piles of dishes.
Piles of laundry.

Always with the piles. So I gave myself a mini pep talk last night and this gal is going to be that person that has a pile free house. I am giving myself ~~a week~~ 5 days to be that person. And I already know what half of you are thinking.

"Why?" "Who cares?" "A pile-free house is overrated! We all have piles!" "At least you don't have piles of crap." (whoever said that last one -- gross)

Be that as it may. I think I have reached some sort of clutter threshold. I need to be free for a ~~week~~ 5 days. If that goes well, then maybe I will make it another couple of days. Isn't 21 the number? Twenty-one days of doing something makes it a habit? Not sure who came up with that, but I think it's malarky.

I like my plump ladies. They look peaceful, don't they?

Regardless! I will press on with my plan. Five days of a clean house, people. I'm feeling good about it. I think I can do it. Today was a practice day. Because I still have 3 separate piles of laundry in the living room. I'm officially starting tomorrow.

While making my plan I also have a wish list in relation to household duties.

1. A dishwasher that requires no pre-rinsing of dishes. When I say no pre-rinsing, I mean straight from the table to the dishwasher. I want that sucker to have a garbage disposal. I want to be able to put a half-eaten turkey dinner right into the bottom rack and come out shining.

2. A personal laundry assistant. I will wash and dry. She will fold and put away. I will pay her and I choose it to be a woman because we have so much laundry everyday and she will be here a lot and I think we would become good friends. (This wouldn't be on the wish list if anyone wanted to do it for free. I will make you cookies or something. You wouldn't have to fold and put away the unmentionables. Think about it.)

That's it. Just two things. I'm not asking much, right?

A pile free house. Besides it clearing my mind, it gives us more room for important things like learning how to somersault. You know, essential life skills. I can't be bogged down by a cluttered house.

Part of the reason I was up, not sleeping and scheming about a pile free house last night was because of Stephanie. She had her mastectomy this morning. Last night, just thinking about it, I kept trying to imagine what that might be like, the night before you are about to have poison removed from your body. But with the poison, also an essential part of what makes you a woman. But she is stronger than me. She's incredible. There is an update on her blog how things went today. She's one tough chica.

We did some fun trail running together this summer in preparation for our insane mountain marathon. We both loved it and started to like running the trails more than any flat, asphalted surface. A few weeks ago we went on a hike. We both missed the mountain air. I snapped this picture of her in the leaves.

Which I love. For obvious reasons. This is who she is. Conquerer. She starts chemo next month. So if you're the praying type, (even if you aren't) maybe think about her.

I will be. It sure does make my piles seem a lot less important.

Pumpkins Pumpkins Everywhere

2011-10-10T21:10:00.001-07:00

The list is short of better things to do on a Saturday in October.

A Thursday Morning

2011-10-06T09:58:00.000-07:00

I don't think I'll take you through the rest of the week, but I have some things to share for this Thursday morning too.

I was previewing a free song from iTunes (I've been on there a lot since last night. I think it's mourning?) and all three started bobbing their heads. Christian's bobbing was VERY enthusiastic and he bobbed right into Sunny's bobbing. Which made her cry. She looked at Christian with disdain and then me with a look of "what are you going to do mom?"

I told Christian he hurt his sister and to give her a hug and kiss and say he was sorry. He's really into this new life skill lately. He doesn't have the "say sorry" part yet, but he sure does know how to hug and kiss. He went in with gusto. He wrapped both of his chubby arms around her and gave her a big bear hug. It was with such love and excitement that they both ended up on the ground. His hug turned into a body slam. So Sunny started crying. Again.

We were all able to calm down and next time we'll practice giving "soft hugs."

Also (this is for Mindy) we are still in pjs and are planning on spending most of the day cuddled and cozy in some way. I don't want to look again, but I swear some of the rain outside is turning white. (Yikes!)

A Wednesday Morning

2011-10-05T08:52:00.000-07:00

I am here, at my table, finishing breakfast and listening to my little ones play. This consists of Gabe making a constant droning sound while wheeling his fire truck around on our big chair. Woooooooo oh eeeeh, oh oooooooooo. Sunny is in a corner with a book. She loves corners. Christian is alternating between books by his sister and trucks with his brother. He's my diplomatic kid. I love this time of day. We are all still in our pajamas with a day as blank as a canvas, ready to be filled.

The morning is dark and a bit cooler than last week. This time of year is lovely. The space between sweaty days and snowy ones. I like this time. I'm missing where we were last fall. I miss the mountains and friends and especially my family. It's amazing the distance 50 miles becomes when busy lives are so, well, busy.

I'm thinking about how I need to fill that canvas today. The floor needs to be washed. Laundry needs to be folded. We should all get dressed. Also, all the kids have now huddled together with a book in the corner. I think I'll join them.

I'll leave you with what my once mountain home looks like this time of year.

The Big C

2011-09-30T12:13:00.000-07:00

"I have breast cancer."

This is what my healthy, 44 year old friend Stephanie says to me, standing in my kid's playroom, surrounded by toy trucks and a plastic basketball hoop.

It wasn't exactly an ideal place to tell someone you have poison in your body, let alone find out yourself. But some things just happen how they happen. So there we were, with the ugly word "cancer" floating in between us.

I had called her daughter the night before to come and take some surprise birthday pictures of me and kids for my husband's 31st birthday. Stephanie happily came along to help with getting all three sets of eyes looking in the same direction. This was done with bribes of yogurt covered raisins and fruit snacks.

She didn't know her doctor would call her that afternoon with the results of her biopsy. She didn't know how quick, blunt and hammer like the doc would drop the news on her. Like Wile E. Coyote getting smashed with an Acme anvil. Their phone conversation lasted less than 3 minutes. So, some things happen how they happen.

We hugged each other and cried. I still feel guilty that she was the one to initiate the hug. My brain was still ringing with that stupid word "cancer." I'm as serious as cancer. He's like a cancer. No pleasant metaphor, simile or idiom relates to this word.

The rest of the time at my house is sort of a messy haze about conversations of what's next and trying to think of the right words to say to her teenage daughter, the photographer of the afternoon. I love words. I love writing them and reading them. But it turns out, sometimes you have no words. Nothing clever or funny or reassuring. I had just cooked a pizza and sent it home with them. I prayed it would taste good. Isn't that a funny thing to pray for that day? Of all the things.

Despite cancer's reputation, Steph has a plan. A fighting plan. She is having a mastectomy next week. It's intensely ironic that we shared more than one joke this summer about our less than endowed chests. How we both felt we don't even need a sports bra. How nursing kids seemed to deflate us somehow. Did I mention this is the friend that ran my first marathon with me? The marathon that had 14 miles of running up a mountain? Life has a funny way of creating intensely ironic situations.

After she recovers from her breast being removed, (Really? Is that something you recover from or just accept and move on?) she will have chemo. I know it doesn't seem fair to have both, and in that order, but some things happen how they happen, and this is the plan.

I kind of feel bad for the stupid blob of cancerous growth inside her right now. Because she is a no nonsense kind of gal. She's full of fire and fight. She has an army of people on the ready for prayers, meals, shoulders, and whatever else her entire family might need to see this thing out the door. It thinks it's all bad just hanging out in her boob with it's bad boy reputation and big scary moments it thinks it causes. She'll show it. It doesn't stand a chance.

Steph started a blog you can follow here. We are also putting together a 5K in the coming months. So if you haven't ever run one or like a good excuse like kicking cancer's sorry a**, then this is your chance.

He IS living by bread alone

2011-09-29T14:39:00.000-07:00

I need help. I have a bread eater. He eats other things. Like cheese and milk. But that's about it. So, have you any bread recipes with lots of protein and fat? This little bread eater also needs all the calories he can get.

My little bread man. The jacket, you ask? It may or may not have something to do with our family themed Halloween costumes this year. May or may not.

He's saying, "Nice try on another dinner mom! I cleaned my tray by putting it all on the floor!"

So bread recipes with fat and protein. But no teddy grahams. Or fruit snacks. He likes those well enough. Just fat and protein. Thanks.

My New Resume

2011-09-27T10:52:00.000-07:00

I have a new bullet point for my resume. It has been quite a few years since I've actually printed a sheet of paper with my credentials on it. So really, I could add quite a few things. Although I'm not sure how professional 'milk production' and 'toddler distraction' sounds on a resume.

But my newest credential I will now add is...

Award Winning Writer

I was in a writing class once where we joked about ANY award you might win in regards to your writing you should add to your portfolio. The last award I won that had to do with what I wrote was a 6th grade essay about what I learned from the D.A.R.E. program. The cold war had just ended, the Berlin wall lay crumbled for a couple years. So now that the cold war and communism was out of the way, we now had to wage a war on drugs! Powerful stuff, I know. Now that I have a more recent one, I'll count this time instead.

It was a simple, local contest about why I think Utah is awesome. (Which I really do.) Part of my prize package is meeting Dr. Scott Sampson in a "VIP" reception before a lecture he's giving tonight. You may or may not be familiar with his work on Dinosaur Train on PBS. Dr. Scott is what his fans call him.

Chris and I are nervous about hanging out with a bunch of academics for a night. I hope I remember how to talk to educated adults without phrases like "snack time" or "choo choo wagon" popping up into the conversation. I also won a gift certificate for U of U continuing education classes. Furniture refinishing? Glass bead making? Sushi instruction? Maybe you can help me decide.

If you would like to see my "award winning essay" click here. You have to scroll down the page a bit. If you can't find it, here is another way to get to it. Go here.

Let this be a lesson in resume padding to you all!

(Really, the best prize is an excuse to have a night out with a handsome man who is also really into me too.)

Looking Good?

2011-09-21T20:00:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I will meet someone and through that usual get to know you banter, it will come up that I have triplets. I sometimes get this response, "You don't LOOK like you had/have triplets!"

I'm never quite sure how to take that. Is it a compliment? A gut reaction to, well, my gut? The fact that it's still not the size of a classroom globe despite my babies being almost two years old? I'm never quite sure.

I suppose they expect me to look disheveled and world weary. My hair should be askew and out of place. Stains on a t-shirt that does not fit me. But when I find myself in these conversations, it's usually because I am somewhere on purpose with other adults, so I had time to do my hair, put on a clean shirt, etc.

However, today. If these people could have seen me this day, I think I looked a little closer to what they have in mind the mother of a trio of toddlers might look like. I was absolutely disheveled. My hair was reminiscent of when a sister of mine used to call me Medusa. The clothes I changed into were not pajamas, but I would have been comfortable in them if I curled up for an afternoon nap today. Which I didn't. Because for some reason, everyone decided that a nap was not important today. Everyone but mom. My vote gets outweighed easily. I also had a matching household and attitude to go with my look. Disheveled.

But it's quiet now, and the dinner dishes are done, thanks to a compassionate husband who took pity on his commoner wife. My busy, little people are asleep and it's actually acceptable to wear real pajamas at this hour. Tomorrow will be a different day.

Goodnight.

Good Times in Cache Valley

2011-09-20T10:06:00.000-07:00

Quite the weekend I had myself. Highlights were many. I had myself my own mini vacation. I packed a bag and left on my own or Logan. A race planned as well as a writer's conference with the League of Utah Writers. Inspiration was abundant and plenty.

I met Mr. Rudy Ruettiger. THE Rudy. Can you believe he is as tall as me? Can you believe this guy took hits from those big Notre Dame guys? He was incredible to listen to and I was even more impressed with him when I found out his movie was made by his own accord. It took him 8 years, EIGHT YEARS to get his movie to someone who wanted to make it. This guy has been a fighter and self-made man his entire life. He truly is the salt of the earth too. I was inspired, impressed, and in awe of all he's accomplished. His message is simple. Go after your dreams and don't let anyone tell you how to do it either. Don't let "goofy thoughts" stop you from achieving everything you've ever wanted to. So that was Mr. Ruettiger. I kind of wish he was my next door neighbor.

His very presence oozes positivity and finding joy in your successes.

My weekend also consisted of missing my darlings. I missed them terribly. But their daddy is their favorite person, so they were just fine.

Uh, more duct tape, you ask? Yes. This dextrous darling LOVES the challenge of the button and zipper of her pjs. Of course she doesn't do it back up and we don't want her to be cold. Ergo, she looks like some kind of duct tape warrior princess.

My second marathon. It was such a different race than my last one, for a lot of reasons. It rained, it hailed, I felt incredibly unprepared. Kind of strange to beat my last time by an hour and half, but there were reasons for that. 4:32:28 is the official time on the books.


Two runners and a cheerleader! I missed Stephanie running with me this race, but it was great to see her happy face at the finish line. Congrats to Steve for a sub 4:00 marathon. That's what I'm calling it. The course was .3 miles longer than a marathon and he ran it in 4:01. Biggest pet peeve of mine is when the course is longer than advertised! So that is a quick and dirty sum up of my lovely weekend. Time with old friends, reconnected with new, inspired by many, rained on and slept in. I'm a lucky gal.

Duct Tape and Strollers and Wagons, Oh My!

2011-09-08T09:36:00.000-07:00

The mornings have been cooler. Football has started. Mums are for sale at every grocery store. Summer is over.

For some that might be a sad sentence. For me, it just makes me want to buy new jeans and shoes. I always loved back to school shopping. But it is business as usual at our house. No new routines. Although I have started making a dinner menu again. That was on break for a while. Today is salmon. Tomorrow is pizza. Saturday is BBQ chicken salad. Sunday is Pad Thai. Huh? Not bad? I would love any other dinner favorite sent my way. If you need some, you should go to this blog. It's pretty sweet.

I'm excited about this little wonder that is being shipped to our house as we speak:

My latest solution to our transportation needs. This is our 4th get up. The first was the triple decker that fit all their infant car seats which was nice. (I will always recommend this to anyone that needs to wheel around 3 infants.) The second was the triple wide jogging stroller. Although you can't really jog with it. We bought it used and it has really been used. It's great for walks around the neighborhood and large parks with large sidewalks, but incredibly heavy. There was no way we could take it on the plane with us. The "used" factor threatens to leave a wheel behind every time we load and unload it in the car. Plus, I'm pretty sure it would NOT have fit on the on the x-ray belt.

The triple wide.

Which brings us to #3 (are you still with me?), our double umbrella stroller and single umbrella stroller. This is what we used for our vacation. We loved it. We didn't get as many looks, stares and stops as we do with the triple wide. Plus, they were both so easy to manage. The downside? You need two adults. Which brings me to the choo choo wagon. (That's what it's called. My adult vocabulary still works.)

At the airport, curbside. Loved these strollers for traveling.

The choo choo wagon (seriously, I need to think of what I can call this thing) will allow me to go places with the kids, by myself! I haven't been able to do that with the triple wide. Too heavy/bulky for me to load in the car. I know. I should be able to lift and haul lots of things. I do have some pretty awesome muscles. (Which reminds me, if you haven't got your tickets to the gun show...) But if the store or zoo, or any other place of interest does not have double doors without a bar running down the middle? Out of luck. So I'm excited for transport module #4 option B, Plan Beta Charlie.

Aren't you happy you are now up to speed about how I can haul my darlings around?

They are getting so big and so smart. I know this sounds cliche, and every parent goes through it, but OH MY GOOD GRAVY GRACE I can't believe how much they change and grow! As some of you noticed, we have to duct tape Sunny's diaper. She loves to take it off. And please no comments about, "Oooo, watch out! Let's hope that isn't a sign of her future.." She's 20 months. When you see a baby drinking from a bottle, do you say, "Uh oh. Hitting the bottle pretty hard huh? Better watch that one." No, because drinking from a bottle is a phase. Just like taking off your diaper.

The morning changing of diapers and clothes is a bit of an assembly line for me. It's kind of rapid fire and sometimes I miss a beat. Like this morning, I forgot to tape her diaper. I finish changing her brothers and here she comes with a bare bottom. She has her diaper in one hand and a roll of duct tape in another. She lifts up both and says a bunch of syllables that are incomprehensible. She basically tells me, "Mom, you forgot to tape my diaper, so that is why I took it off. But here is the tape to fix the problem."

Smart. It surprises me sometimes because I still think of them as babies. I remind myself that I need to stop calling them babies. According to all the books and charts and graphs and Nick Jr, 18 months is the end of the baby stage. Which literally brings tears to my over-sentimental eyes. My babies are growing up. Which is good. Life goes on. They can't be little forever.

I recently heard of a mama who just gave birth to triplets. They were born at 24 weeks. Four weeks earlier than mine. She has babies. My heart aches for what is in store for them. I don't envy what they are going through right now. Our own NICU experience has shifted to the back of my memory. But the emotions are still there. A baby is supposed to grow inside their mommy, not in an incubator under flourescent lights attached to plastic and wires and tubes. The juxtaposition of knowing that, but being thankful for those incubators and tubes is a tough one to wrestle with. My mother heart will be with that family.

Because even recently, on our vacation, when my brood was experiencing the beach for the first time, I briefly thought of those long, dark days of hoping and praying for the best possible outcome. When they were digging in sand and their soggy swim diapers made them waddle towards seagulls and shells, I remembered when they were so fragile and I thought I would be the one to break them. I wish I could've imagined our life now. It would have made the pumping and drives to the hospital a little more bearable. I think.

But then, I think I'm glad I didn't know. Because that would've taken away some of my gratitude. My prayers would not have been as sincere. My deepest desires not as deep. I'm glad the future is a mystery. Every day is a new adventure around here. I have no idea what to expect next.

I'm glad for that.

Ok, share! Favorite back to school and or fall dinners? Favorite strollers or wagons or donkey and cart set ups? What phase are you excited to be done with? Anyone else happy to not know their future?

Making Plans or We Are Finally Home

2011-08-30T09:40:00.000-07:00

Making plans was part of what made them "them." Traveling was in their bones. They loved to book flights, pack bags and find great, new places to eat. Then the babies came. Traveling was on hiatus. Diapers and feedings and running and screaming and crying. A plane was out of the question. Two adults? Three kids? The math never made sense.

But the great east winds called. The tide rose with their desire to visit family and eat lobster. They rationalized a non-stop flight would surely be no problem. As long as they didn't have to change planes, they could make it across the country with three, nineteen-month old darlings. They would just sit in laps and in the extra seat and read books and munch on snacks for 4 1/2 hours. No problem. The east winds beckoned louder with each rationalization.

******************************

We are home from our vacation. Our kids touched the ocean, saw lobster, mimicked seagulls, learned the word "boat" and got lots and lots of love from dear family. The plane ride is a dark, messy blur of fits, naps, kinds looks from strangers as well as a few dirty ones. (Looks that is, the strangers seemed cleaned.)

I wish we could've clicked ruby slippers together instead of hauling three car seats, two strollers, three blankets, three carry-ons, three busy babies and two exhausted parents through the airport. But we are home now. The memories of an amazing, first family vacation are stronger than the plane ride getting there. We all had a blast. Although, I might calculate how long the drive is for next year...

We Have Been Doing Other Things

2011-08-11T20:36:00.000-07:00

Despite my constant posting and rambling on and on about running here and there, running everywhere, I will not eat green eggs and ham... oops. Sorry.

Despite all the running posts, we have been doing other things this summer besides working around a training plan.

Like going to a parade with cousins.

And watching it with Daddy.

And really liking the drums in the high school marching band.

And being so surprised to see Grandpa in the fire truck in the parade! He was just as surprised to see us as we were him.

Good thing Gabe has his brother to hold on to. He did not like the fire truck siren.

We've also headed out the door in matching pink get ups this summer. Well, we did it once. And it was an accident. But still cute, no?

We have also seen lots of dogs when we've been out and about. Sometimes one of us will even sit (Gabe) when the owner tells the dog to sit. The kids are REALLY into dogs.

Although I don't have pictures, we've also been to a BBQ where I fed the kids watermelon in the grass and loved watching the juice drip down their chins and on their shirt. Sometimes I feel a little guilty about how much we don't get out. (It's such a project! It's usually just me!) So that moment of juicy, watermelony stickiness made me feel good. It was a real summer moment.

We have also been to the pool! Once. They all hated it. Big sigh. We'll try that one again.

We are going to Rhode Island soon. Like, on a family vacation. I guess that is what you would call it. I'm mostly calling it a nightmare at 30,000 feet for 4 1/2 hours. But once we get there it will be great. In my head, it's going to be this light, lovely moment when my three little darling all see and touch and smell the ocean for the first time. But in reality, Gabe will probably hate how the sand feels on his hands, Christian will probably be scared the first time a little wave hits his feet and Sunny will cling to her daddy like a monkey. Her cute little legs will have a deadlock grip around his rib cage. But that is why God gave me a sense of humor and the ability to enjoy even the crazy, not so exciting moments. Sometimes it's even while the moment is happening. But retrospect has also been good to us.

Another thing we've been up to this summer-- practicing being kind. Hitting someone on the head then waiting for a reaction is a favorite activity as of late. So, lots of our family home evening lessons have been about being sweet to one another. I couldn't resist pulling out the camera on this one...

(Don't mind the fact that no one has clothes on. They are post bath / pre pajamas here. Also, don't worry about the land mine of a play room they have to play in. It does get straightened every once in a while.)

I know summer is waning, but we aren't done! More fun stuff to come.

Are you getting nervous summer is almost over? Any last minute plans to soak it all in before it's time to start buying trapper keepers?

Wasatch Back Marathon 2011

2011-08-07T20:30:00.000-07:00

Sooo, this post is long. Really long. I know only about 1 1/2 of you will actually get through it. It's mostly a journal moment for me. But if you do read it, thanks. You're awesome sauce.

Five hours, fifty-eight minutes and thirty-four seconds. I could drive to Vegas in five hours and fifty-eight minutes. I could get a semi-decent night's sleep. I could watch 1/2 of the Harry Potter saga. But I chose something much different.

Last Saturday, I ran my first marathon. Pounding pavement, then trail, sometimes rock, sometimes a grassy trail, but pounding, pounding, pounding none the less for twenty-six point two miles.

My morning started at 3:45. I sprang out of bed with my alarm. And when I say sprang, I mean, I ambled to the bathroom. My ride would be here in 45 minutes and I needed that long to pull myself together. At 4:00 am I had a toast and peanut butter breakfast with a glass of water. Gathered up my things, got dressed and pulled my camelbak out of the freezer. (I drained all 50 oz. I ran out at about mile 24.) Honey stinger chews, check. Camelbak, check. Shoes, check. Ipod, check. Recovery drink, check. Nerves, (gulp) check. Ok. I'm ready.

My ride shows up right on time. My faithful running partner and fellow insanity sister, Stephanie picks me up with her husband and two girls. I tried to pretend I wasn't nervous but I was. I was thankful for her teenage girls cracking jokes as we approached the parking lot at the starting line. "I can throw a football over them mountains..." I eyed that mountain. Even back in '82 I couldn't throw a football over it, but I had to run up it. I said a little prayer in my heart.

We hustled over to the packet pick-up. Mosquitoes were out in full force, I thought if I ran through them, they couldn't stop and have a drink. It was a good way to get loose too. This being the first year of the race, there was no line and picking up a packet at 5:50 was no problem. Back to the van, I geared up. Loaded my pack of chews on my camelbak (which I would lose somewhere between mile 9 and 12) and put on my visor. I think I also secured some extra courage to my heart because we were t minus five minutes from starting this thing. No turning back. No more training runs. Time to do it.

At the starting line. It was cooold. We don't look nervous, right?

We met a dailymile training friend that I had been talking with over the last few months. We exchanged virtual high fives and encouragement during our training. This was also his first marathon. We joked how we sure picked a doozy and told each other, we'll see you at the end! His cute wife even took a picture of us that he posted on his DM account.

We lined up with the other 200 or so people making this their adventure for the day too. Some would run the whole 26. Others were doing the three man relay. A few instructions from the race director and we were off.

I had so many tiny, tender mercies from God that day. One of them showed up in the form of an incredible sunrise. The eastern sky was purple. I've never seen a sunrise quite like it. We headed in a north east direction for the first few miles, so I really couldn't have missed it. Steph and I both agreed it was absolutely incredible and it helped take our minds off the fact that we had started this race of which we were only hoping to come out the other end in under six hours.

This was one of the last places to cheer for runners. Somewhere around mile 7 I think. After this it was mountain roads. Water stations and runners only.

At the first relay exchange (mile 9) there was also a water stop. We slowed and began walking to the table. Some guy, who had the best of intentions, thought we were relay runners and said, "Hey! Don't stop! You're almost there! You can do it!" Steph laughed and said something like, "Uh, nope. We have 17 more miles to go!" He looked genuinely shocked when his eyes bugged out and said, "Oh! You're running the WHOLE thing?!?" Yes, sir. We are.

Maybe he knew what was coming. Maybe he knew the next six miles were not just "uphill," but up-mountain. This is where the asphalt started to become sparse and the trail really showed it's gravelly face. But we punched it out. Mile after mile we showed that mountain we were strong and tough and so into conquering. So at 8800 feet, Steph let out a conquering yelp over the mountain tops. Now it was time to head back down. Sounds awesome, right? Meh, we'll see...

So on the course map, the down hill looks great. It looks like it's just straight down hill. Nope. You lose elevation, but this is a mountain! You still are rising and falling each mile. There was even this nasty hill around mile 18 that was just plain cruel. You could see it in the distance. It looked worse from far away. Like a big evil villain trying to stop you from finishing by totally demoralizing you. "HAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA BWAAHAHAHAH! YOU CAN'T FINISH! LOOK AT THIS HILL YOU HAVE TO CLIMB UP AFTER YOU JUST CLIMBED UP A LOT OF OTHER HILLS!" (He's not a very creative villain, very poor with words.) But we did it. Just one more piece of a conquering tool we can add to our ever increasing arsenal.

Beauty seems like a little, piddly word to describe what kind of views and scenery we had for the duration. It took your mind off the climb. The wildflowers were a welcome distraction between each passing mile. Absolutely incredible. God's country.

Around mile 24 it started to get silly. Like, hot, I have no more liquid in the pouch on my back, I'm starting to hallucinate, I can't read the numbers on my garmin silly. Another tender mercy we experienced that day was the weather for the first 15 miles. It was overcast, cool and soooo nice. It even sprinkled a little bit. Perfect. But then the sun started to shine. Hard. It was like being in the Twilight Zone to be so close to the end, but yet so very, very far away. Those last two miles were the hardest for me. We really wanted to come in under that six hour bench mark (for the dang finisher's medal!) and the clock was relentless. The seconds ticked and the sun beat down.

We finally made it into the last 1/2 mile of track in the Soldier Hollow venue. It was used during the 2002 Winter Olympics for cross-country skiing and the biathlon. So it was pretty cool to run on those same tracks. HOWEVER! Who had the idea of putting two serious looking hills yards before the finish line? I want to give them a slap with a wet noodle. Or my foam roller. Seriously. That was just mean. Especially since it wasn't necessary. I clearly saw another track that could have been taken straight to the finish line without the extra hills at the end. My watch even showed we went 26.5 miles after all was said and done. But, once again, we climbed the hills and made our way to the finish line.

Here we come! Big smiles. We can see the end.

Aaaand, we finished just under the 6 hour mark.

My husband, mom, dad and little brother were all standing by the poles. I could hear them cheering our names. Steph's husband Steve and her girls, Amber and Heather were also there, big cheers for our finish. Had I really let the moment take hold of me, I would have fallen to my knees and cried like a little girl. I was so happy to be done and so proud of myself for doing something that hard. But having loved ones at the end of something so stinking difficult to tell me I did a good job was an incredible thing. I think I would do it all over again just to have that feeling again.

My cheerleaders! McKay, Me, Mom and Dad. Also fellow Ragnar runners only 6 short weeks ago.

Steph and I sharing a few emotions here. Long journey together!

Steph: Hey! Wanna do that again?
Me: Yes, in 364 days.

We just climbed a mountain. Watch out.

This ice bath was seriously the best thing at the finish line. Steve joked that there was other people's feet sweat and dog slobber and bugs and whatever else. I did not care. It felt like pure heaven to me. (So proud of that little piece of hardware around my neck too. I didn't want it to get wet!)

Chatting it up with my dailymile buddy, Matt. He came in a whole 30 min before us. I think, maybe more than 30. But it was his first marathon too! The kiddie pool ice bath felt like a resort spa. Aaaaah.

Steph's girls were so sweet. They really did make it a spa experience. They hand delivered donuts and chocolate milk while we were soaking our swollen joints.

Steve went on some training runs with us. He was a great support.
Steph is holding her prize for being #1 finisher in her age group. Woopty woop!

Who wouldn't be happy to see this cute face at the finish? My sister Shauna and her husband Rich watched the kids so Chris could give me plenty of attention at race end.

My ribbon, you ask? That bad boy is for coming in 4th for my age group. Holla!

So, I did it. I set a really impossible, hard to reach goal six month ago, and I did it. I absolutely feel like a conqueror. Of course I didn't do it alone and I have scores of fans, supporters and running partners who helped me get to that finish line. Which is the way it should be. None of us can do really difficult things by ourselves. If you think you can or you have before, your vision is narrow. Look around! Take stock in what you have. We are never really alone.

I think I have more things to say about this experience. But my words went done got all used up. For now.

My Number One Fan

2011-07-29T15:00:00.000-07:00

503 miles.

Since January 3rd of this year, I have ran over 500 miles. I didn't mean to hit such a cool number the week of my marathon, but that's what happened. Those miles were done in the cold, in the snow, on a treadmill, in the morning, in the evening, on a Saturday, on a Tuesday, by myself, with a friend, with more than one friend, with family, in a race, on a whim, at 2am, up a hill, up a mountain, down a hill, and down a mountain.

It's been an incredible six months of running for me. Despite the varied terrain, miles, times of day and running partners, one thing has been constant; a sweet and sexy babysitter.

My husband has been unwavering and rock-like in his support for my little running habit. Almost every Saturday morning since January, I have set my alarm and been out the door before anyone else wakes up. He has loved getting the kids breakfast on the weekends and playing with them all morning. I know the kids have loved all their time with daddy and have loved staying in their pjs until lunch.

Since the weather has been warm, he has also pinch hit on weekdays too. He gets up early and is ready for work before the kids wake up so he can make them breakfast. (Am I the only one who thinks it's sexy when a man whips up waffle batter from scratch?)

It's not a unique concept for a mom/woman to need things in her life to help her keep her identity. Even though we ask for it and welcome the way our kids take over our lives, keeping our original identity, the one we came with is almost a primal need. So although our name may get replaced by ______'s mom, we still need to know who we are.

I'm not saying that my identity is a runner. I do run. I like it. But more importantly, it's my time. It's my time to remember who I am. Remember what's important to me. Remember why I wanted to be a mother and wife so bad in the first place. It's more than a run. I become balanced.

Chris gets that. He knows I'm a better mom after a 6am Monday morning run. Three sweet monsters are easier to take on when I've already conquered 6 miles before breakfast. He knows I look forward to setting my alarm before 5 on a Saturday because I have a 20 miler planned. (Yes, I said LOOK FORWARD TO.) He gets me.

Which is why I can't wait to see his handsome face at the finish line tomorrow. It's the same face I've seen after all those 500 plus miles. It's the same face I'll see for the next 5 million.

Thank you darling. I love you.

My Mantra

2011-07-25T08:58:00.000-07:00

I'll be running a marathon this Saturday. Six months ago, on a cold January night, with a gut loaded with chocolate cream pie and parmesan spinach dip, I had a spasm of goals and resolutions. I decided 2011 would be the year to race. No plans to get pregnant. No nagging knee pain. This was the year. Feet up on my couch, laptop ready, I searched for the perfect “first marathon.” If you read running articles or magazines, there are bullets and lists of how to find the perfect first marathon. I didn’t read any of those articles. I found one that was close, cheap and six months away. Those were my only requirements. I came across the Wasatch Back Marathon that would take place in beautiful Midway, Ut. At the time, I lived in Heber, 6 miles away from Midway. It would be a quick car trip. I was also looking forward to the pretty scenery and views that I was already familiar with, living in this mountain valley.

I coerced a friend into considering running it with me. It’s always so much easier to train when you have someone else relying on you to finish the race with. She looked up the info on the race and got back to me about it.

“Have you seen the course?” She said, almost laughing.

“Uh, no, not really,” was my sheepish reply.

Then, she informed me that her husband, who was planning on competing in an Ironman later that year told her I was crazy for picking this race as my first marathon. Keep in mind an Ironman is a marathon where you also bike 112 miles and swim two miles before you run the marathon. This guy was telling me I was nuts.

The course is hilly. It’s mountainous. It’s terrain is, well, rugged. It is 14 miles, up hill, a 3000 foot elevation climb, then the remaining 12.2 miles is down hill. Sixty-percent of the course is on trails. No gentle beginning miles with a gradual slope in the middle. No slight uphill around mile 9 with the rest of the way winding and easy. In other words, I was crazy for picking this race as my first marathon.

But I was calm about my decision. Even after I heard the insane details of the elevation climb, then drop, the trails, the cougars (ok, no cougars, but there might as well be). Because I had made the decision and frankly, I can do hard things. I haven’t always known this. The last few years have kind of helped cement this mantra in my heart. I can do hard things.

I found this out a couple years ago when I was running a 188-mile relay race with friends. This race was a 33 hour, no sleep, run until you’re done, then get up and run some more kind of race. When it was my turn to run my last leg, I knew I couldn’t do it. I was trying to think of what I would tell my team and who would be the one to run for me. Because at this stage of the race, on 3 hours of sleep, there was no way I could run those 3.2 miles up a 12% grade. Sorry. I was done. But then all the sudden it was my turn and I hadn’t thought of anything to tell anyone! I was at the checkpoint, the runner in front of me would be here any second. I had to do it. And I did. It was grueling. It was painful. I remember it rained a little. I walked one minute, ran one minute for all 3.2 miles. But I did it. I actually did it. I can do hard things.

These five words were also made known me a few months later. After trying, failing, trying and trying, then trying with the help of a doctor, I was pregnant. One pregnancy, three babies. I was having triplets. I had never been a mom before. I did not have the secret handbook of all good mothers at my disposal. (Still haven’t found that darn book!) I had no first born to practice on before three came at once. I was having three babies. I would be lying if I said I had it all together and it was going to be great and bluebirds were going to come in my windows every morning to help change diapers and warm up bottles. I was nearly paralyzed with fear of failing as a mother almost every day while I was pregnant. The bigger I got, I bigger the fear. I didn’t even know if I could be a good mom to one baby. How was I going to handle three? What if I didn’t love them enough? What if I didn’t have enough of “me” to go around? Love, arms, breasts, time. What if I don’t really know them because there are three of them? What if I bunched them all up and always referred to them as “the triplets,” making their individual names obsolete? What I accidentally left one of them at the store? Real. Paralyzing. Fear. But nature has a way of marching on, regardless of your feelings about the future. One day, they came. It was hard. We spent a lot of time in the hospital. They were tiny. I was scared I was going to do something wrong. I was scared they weren’t going to make it. But all of the sudden they have a first birthday. We celebrate with friends and family and I realize that I have three, healthy, smiling babies.

My once preemie toddlers enjoying a parade

I love all of them so deeply. I know all their unique quirks and personalities. They are all so different. I love them so completely and whole as the individuals they are. I can do hard things.

So, bring it on 14 miles of unrelenting uphill and 3000 feet climb in elevation. Do your worst 12.2 miles of downhill. Come what may cougars. I’ve trained for you. I woke up early (before the babies) and ran dem hills. I’ve put the miles on my shoes on the weekends. I’m ready. Because I can do hard things.

Epilogue: My friend who I ~~begged~~ coerced back in January to run with me is absolutely running this thing.

Steph and I on our last Saturday training run

Those training miles are long and hard without a friend. I'm thankful for her. We've been eating hills for breakfast for months and feel ready-- like rockstars. Her once naysayer "ya'll are crazy" ironman husband has turned into one of our biggest fans. He has tagged along on some long runs and even made us a mixed tape (er, CD) full of super woman songs. I have lots of supporters and cheer leaders for this race. The one is the MOST good-looking and supportive of them all deserves his own post. So, more to come...

Where Is Annie Oakley When You Need Her?

2011-07-13T14:29:00.000-07:00

I swear I'm not a women's lib gal. I do lean a little to the independent side. I used to flat out lie straight down on the independent side, but getting married straightened me up a bit. Not in a bad, my husband expects me to stay in the kitchen sort of way. Just in a, I really don't like taking out the garbage, and if you're going to do it, I'm so okay with it, kind of way.

But I was born in 1980. Not 1935. I was raised by a woman who once took her husband to Hawaii on a sales trip she had won. Twice. So the mantra of "anything you can do, I can do better," kind of resonates with me. I understand that men and women have their differences, I get it. I'll never be able to do more than 2 pull-ups and his hips will never have the ability widen when needed.

But if one more person sees the Ragnar sticker on our van and immediately asks Chris if he's a runner, I think I'm going to scream.

(These aren't people just from the older generation either. I'm talking OUR generation people.)

Women DO run! It's 2011, in case you haven't noticed. And, just so you know, I can actually run MUCH further than my husband at the moment. So, (tongue sticking out in a really, classy, lady-like fashion) there!!

And for full disclosure: both guys passed me about 50 yards before the checkpoint. But then I passed orange shirt guy again. I never said I was the fastest runner there ever was, but I DO run.

My marathon is only weeks away!

We Need to Pray Just to Make it Today

2011-07-12T09:05:00.000-07:00

Fear grips your heart. Beads of sweat form on your furrowed, nervous brow. Will I be able to do it? What if they overpower me? What if I'm just not strong enough? What if... Can I...

Can I really get the babies to bed by myself? Dun dun dun...

Never fear. It always works out. Albeit barely at times, but it always works out.

Every once in a while, Chris or I are alone at bedtime. Sometimes it's because dad is working late. Sometimes it's because mom flees the house as soon as dad walks in the door. (It's always his suggestion, don't worry.)

It's not a unique or unusual thing for a household to be a little chaotic near the end of the day. If I were a betting woman, I would let it ride on nearly every house in America having a extra layer of stress in the evening, right before little eyelids shut. We are no exception.

For illustrative purposes, I thought I would share with you a round of prayers that was said during one of these nights when I was all by mysellllelelff, don't wanna be... (Celine? Anyone?)

The last thing we do before we say goodnight and shut the door is individual prayers with each little rascal. So here is what was prayed over the other night...

Sunshine:
We are grateful for her creativity, curiosity, persistent spirit and problem solving skills...
This was prompted from her unyielding attempts to take off her pjs. First the snap at the top, then the zipper, then she would go to work on her diaper which is now being duct taped each night. It took her a good 5 minutes each time I redressed her. But she kept on keeping on. She's very determined.

Christian:
We are grateful that he loves to read books so much and loves to cuddle with mommy...
I call Christian my "lap crasher." Regardless if my lap is already occupied, here he comes, barreling in with a (hard) board book he wants me to read to him. The book not only knocks me in the mouth, but usually nails whoever is sitting in my lap right on their noggin. So he lands the book, then turns and SITS. Hard. Again, he doesn't really notice or care if someone is already there. He happily snuggles down, with the cutest grin and is even patient while I soothe whoever he just ransacked. He really likes books.

Gabe:
We are grateful that he is quick to forgive, is so smart and wants to be like his mommy...
This phrase was prompted from Gabe's, repeated and unwavering attempts at taking off my glasses. I really need my glasses. I feel like a new born kangaroo without them. I need to be able to see across the room. In my situation, it's terribly important. What might look like a child harmlessly playing with a toy, could actually be someone trying to escape down a vent hole. I need to be able to see. But this night, Gabe decided he really needed them too. He would NOT STOP trying to take them off. Keep in mind, this is in the middle of one child undressing, another lap crashing, it's not like I was just sitting in a corner doing nothing. Whew! So at about the 84th try at reaching for my glasses, and me jerking my head back, I grabbed his little hands and with a firm mommy voice said, "NO." Well, whatever tone I used, he knew I was serious and started to cry. Big, sad, why doesn't mommy like me, tears. It almost made me cry. I gave him a hug, told him I loved him and that I needed my glasses to be able to see. I asked him if he wanted to hold them for a minute and his bottom lip retracted a bit. He nodded. I told him to be gentle and handed him my glasses. He put them on his eyes. Just like mommy wears them and gave me the biggest grin. I told him he was very smart and asked if I could have them back. He smiled and handed them over.

So that's why I pray. I pray with my kids because I want them to pray. But I also pray with them to keep my perspective on what's important. Someday they will actually do things ON PURPOSE to get my goat. But now, their sweet little faces and curious little minds are just learning and taking everything in. Then, when it's time to say my own prayer before going to bed, I pray for patience (again) and the inspiration to let each one be themselves.

I need to keep up. They are quick little goobers, and I'm thankful for every single moment.

Ragnasties

2011-07-05T20:01:00.000-07:00

That could be a term you use to describe yourself while you're running through trails, or up a mountain, or at 3 in the morning, or for 10 miles while really, really needing to use the bathroom.

Any of those scenarios could be used when describing yourself as a Ragnasty, Ragnarlian, Ragnnotgonnastop...

Running the Wasatch Back Ragnar with my family was a complete and utter blast. What if you did a 33 hour non-stop, relay race with a bunch of people you loved to death and also knew all of their lovely quirks and personality hiccups? You'd probably have a bunch of inside jokes, millions of laughs, hundreds of pictures, a few that only make sense to you and a head full of memories.

That's what I have. It was an amazing adventure that I'm grateful I was able to share with some of my closest homies. Yes, we are homies. And now, pictures... (I'm not captioning any of them. So feel free to leave questions about what the heck we were doing for two days.)

Dinosaurs and Grocery Stores

2011-06-29T14:04:00.000-07:00

I may or may not have taken an extended absence in posting. Also, I may or may not like to use the phrase 'may or may not.' Also, thanks for the nudge to post something on my little web log. A little explanation about the lack of posting:

A) our computer is a new spot since we have moved.
2) it used to be in the same room as our TV
D) In the olden days, I would blog while Chris watched Sports Center

So, to sum up, I really like being in the same room as him. Even if we are doing different things. Our living room isn't exactly put together yet, so he isn't a big fan of plopping on the couch for a little DU DU DUN, DU DU DUN...THIS IS SPORTS CENTER...on a regular basis.

So, if this conversation was on the LSAT, you might say that I have been blogging less because Chris is watching less Sports Center. (makes total sense)

I'm not going to do a catch up post and tell you everything we've been doing over the last two weeks. But I do like lists as you may have noticed. (Or may have not noticed. ...eh, doesn't really work that way.)

Ran Ragnar
Zoo
Training to run up a mountain
Ran up a mountain as part of a training run to run up an even bigger mountain
If you haven't seen me post, it's probably because I'm tweeting
You should tweet, all the cool kids are doing it
I got bit by a dog
I don't have rabies
My babies are busy
They love to brush their teeth
Gabe is obsessed with motorcycles
I'm ok with it at this point
But probably won't be later
Sometimes my day feels like a bullet point list
Just remembered I put vegetable lasagna on the menu tonight
Totally regretting that decision
Not because of the vegetables, but because of the work
If anyone can bring me dinner, just tweet me and let me know

And now, a reward for reading my list, pictures of my little munchkins and their dashing dad...

Dinner in the park. Sandwiches from The Corner Bakery at Red Butte. Yummmm. They actually ate pretty good. It felt like we were feeding ducks. Then we set them loose and chased everyone around. They loved it. We were exhausted! (and hungry again...)

Our first family trip to the zoo! Is Hogle Zoo in a "growing" phase right now? We weren't terribly impressed. That, and sometimes I get a little sad at zoos. Don't ask. I'm weird. They did not like the animatronic dinosaurs that were around every corner. So we would have liked to see more animals and less mechanical dinosaurs.

Remember how I mentioned I miss Day's Market in Heber? Harmon's is a happy replacement for me. Not only are their balloons complimentary, (I love that word) they genuinely care about the quality of their food. Good produce, lots of organic options, not just a huddled stash in a dark corner, hand trimmed chicken, an entire section devoted to cheese, complete with cheese attendants - I'm going to stop now. How exciting is this post huh? Glad you're still reading?

When I downloaded this picture for this post, the thumbnail was a little small and I thought it was the smiling one. It's not. But how realistic! This is a very common scene around here. Just replace poor Gabe's crying face with anyone else in this picture! We are (too) fast approaching the "Mom! Aren't you going to do anything?!? He just stole what I was playing with!" Except they don't use words. Just really loud wails and the occasional forehead smash to the floor in utter disdain and disgust about what goes on in their very own playroom.

That is us! As soon as my computer from 1994 finishes downloading our pictures we took during Ragnar, brace yourself for a week of Ragnar posts!

As Of Late

2011-06-13T13:11:00.000-07:00

In last week's episode, our heroes were living in the beautiful mountain valley of Heber, Ut. They have now moved and are residing in the suburban neighborhood of Cottonwood Heights.

Yup. It's done. We have officially switched zip codes. A few things I miss about Heber:

living close to my family
Day's Market
familiar running routes
neighbors and friends I hope to keep in touch with
the quiet beauty of the landscape (sigh)

But, I am finding the bright side of our new locale:

literally 5 min away from stores I used to plan a Saturday around to shop at
closer to Chris' side of the family (Grma Linda said: "It's my turn!")
more time with dad since he isn't commuting an hour each way
and I'll keep you posted with more...

There are a lot of stairs in our new place. So teaching the babies how to use them has been a focus and priority. (I know, gasp at the fact my 18 month olds don't know how to navigate stairs yet. We're working on it!) We do have lots of lovely trees around the place and a garden plot I've yet to tackle. We felt so fortunate to have so much help getting our little family of 5 to a new address. It was a project! So a big giant lump of gratitude goes out to everyone that helped us. Seriously.

Quick shot of the backyard via the GIANT playroom above the garage. Is that a clothes line you ask? Yes. Due to the complications of moving into a new place, we were without a dryer for 48 hours. In most households this might not be a big deal. But in ours, it is. So I asked Chris to rig up a clothes line. My romantic, read too many books about the 1930's side imagined my sun kissed face gingerly pinning up my kid's pjs and my husband's work shirts (read: t-shirts) while the wind gently blew, drying our clothes. But the first batch on the line happened to be a bunch of cleaning rags. These are true rags. Tattered, falling apart, etc. So as soon as they were up, I immediately wanted them down. It definitely didn't look like the clothes line I imagined. We looked like squatters in someone's backyard, trying to wash out some of our hobo wear. The dryer's fixed, but crib sheets gently blowing in the wind still appeals to me. So the line is still up.

I'm sure many (maybe one) of you were wondering if I ran my virtual 5k! You better believe it!

I set out all by myself on a sunny Friday morning and raced my silly heart out. I usually like to take pictures at all my races. So this one was no exception. Even if I took it myself, looking like a goon, holding up my watch so you can see my time. 28:33 in case you were wondering. I do believe it is my fastest 5K yet. (Don't worry about the stuff behind me, we were still unpacking.)

My little bear figuring out mom's giant running watch. I see this sweet expression all day. He is concentrating. You can tell because his little tongue is out.

So, that is the latest my friends! The next big thing we are all looking forward to around here is Ragnar! Woot to the double woot! 188 miles. It's a family affair this year. Can't wait.

Virtual Race

2011-05-31T19:48:00.000-07:00

I am fan of running for something. Which is why I am telling one and all about this great race I came across! A friend I made on dailymile is hosting a virtual 5k to raise funds for autism. That's right, you don't need to meet anywhere at 7am or decide what running outfit you want everyone to see you in. It's virtual, so you can do it anywhere, anytime, by yourself, with friends, take your dog, push a stroller, whatever. Just do it by June 10th. Go here for more details and how to sign up. (It's only 5 bucks. Seriously. What more reason do you need?)

PS - there are prizes! As if the warm fuzzy of running for a good cause wasn't enough.

PPS - a 5k is only 3.1 miles and you don't even have to run. Walkers are always welcome in any race! (Except maybe, like, the 100 yard dash at the Olympics. That's probably runners only.)

PPPS - the dailymile is my new favorite place to log my runs. Lots and lots of friendly cheerleaders to keep you going. I strongly recommend it.

PPPPS - how many post scripts are you allowed in one piece of correspondence?

The end. Let me know if you race!

Besties

2011-05-29T22:35:00.001-07:00

So, I have a best friend. Saturday, we had an anniversary of committing to be best friends forever. (BFF in layman's terms. I'll have to show you our half a heart necklaces sometime.) Six years.

I will admit that I've been swept up in this whole last season of Oprah thing. Having a DVR leaves you vulnerable to vices you wouldn't normally indulge in if left to catching shows when they are on. 4:00 pm is actually a pretty busy time around here. (Let's also not forget to mention fast forwarding commercials -- hello!) So late night Oprah watching happens once in a while. Except last week. With the buzz about the very last week of the Oprah Show, I had it on almost every night. Although he would be reluctant to admit it, and would also be the first to point out he also watched the Heat/Bulls series last week, my best friend was watching some Oprah with me.

Which is why during church today, in a Sunday School lesson about goals and what kinds of things you want for your family, where several men in a row shared their thoughts on this topic: how, why, who, where and being your best, etc, where a male teacher had positioned all the chairs in a semi-circle type fashion, my bestie leaned over and whispered:

"This is like Oprah, but for men."

I love you darling. Thank you for asking me to share this life with you. And thank you for making me laugh. This has been a gift.

(Even if I have to hold it in and cough to cover it up so no one thinks I'm rude because it really was a good lesson.)

Cheers to the next six (billion and forever) years together.

20 Miles

2011-05-25T09:45:00.000-07:00

I did something last Saturday. One thing. I probably did more than one thing if one were to get technical about it, but it felt like I only did one thing.

I went on a 20 mile run.

I ran twenty miles and I did it on purpose.

The marathon I also signed up for on purpose is two months away. I shouldn't have signed up for this particular marathon. There were other races I should've looked into. But what's done is done. I'm committed and going to do it. I'll write more about that later.

I'm grateful for these training runs. They help in more ways than just logging the miles. Like the fact that I thought I was going to literally die around mile 18. That's probably something I can work on before the race. Or how I finished a mile away from my house. (Bad idea.)

The mile walk back to my place felt like I was toting around two bags of cement disguised as my legs. It was all I could do to not lay down on some random stranger's lawn and call for them.

"Hello! Is someone in there? I live a block away from here but I need a ride home. Hello? Can anyone hear me? I might also need to use your bathroom. Are you barbequing? I can smell something good, I think. I'm not sure. I think I might also be hallucinating. Hello? Anyone?"

Don't worry. I didn't prostrate myself on anyone's grass and yell incoherent things. But I wanted to.

I wore my trusty Garmin watch. When the little screen did indeed confirm I had traveled 20 miles by the power of my own two legs that day, something happened I did not except. I cried. It wasn't a blubbering, sobbing type of mess. Tears just silently fell down my sunblocked, sweaty cheeks as I realized I had just done something I had never done before. And it was hard. And I wanted to quit. But I didn't.

It was unexpected, but not unfamiliar. It was the same emotions I felt when I actually got an "A" in my anatomy and physiology class in college. Or when the babies finally started sleeping through the night and I realized I still knew my name and was still grateful to be a mom.

Twenty miles. I don't break records and my name has never been in the top five of any race, but I know I'm a runner. Because even after all that, I'm still excited to run that 26.2.

Answers

2011-05-23T21:17:00.000-07:00

In my schedule post, I called for questions, promising answers. I have an overwhelming amount of questions to answer. Like four. Two are unrelated to my schedule, but a promise is a promise, and I'm happy to comply.

What percentile is Christian? 25% for both height and weight. This was from his 15 month checkup. But for his adjusted age (12 months) it felt like he was 90%. But that is probably because he plays with one percentiles all day.

Where are we moving? Eee gads. This has been the question of the month. Short answer is closer to Chris' work in the Salt Lake valley somewhere. Like, the south end. (Sorry K, as fun as your neighborhood sounds...) I think we may have a place locked down, I just don't want to jinx it until it's official.

The other question asked for a narrated tour of our house and van and set up. Well, this isn't Cribs or anything (wait, I guess it is, I'm literally giving you a tour of cribs). What you're about to watch is what I see every morning after their nap. Sorry it's kind of dark, we like to pull the blinds to sleep. But just their room for now. They were a little weired out that mommy brought a camera in with her. I'll work on getting the van tour set up. I'm not sure if this really counts as a dream coming true, (Carrie) but to each his own. Exciting stuff folks!

Rapturous Move

2011-05-20T10:44:00.000-07:00

I think I am in denial about certain events that are coming up in our lives. We are moving. Booo. I hate that we are. I like being close to family and this neighborhood and our neighbors and this valley and my grocery store that has wonderful reverse osmosis water. Sigh.

Packing is NOT awesome. Which is why I have done about 10% of it so far. Never mind that we are leaving our place the end of this month and it's the 20th. Late last night, talking to each other in the dark, right before we both fell asleep, Chris gave me a little hope.

"Maybe when the world ends on Saturday, that will solve our moving dilemma."

So, I'm not going to stress much more until 6 p.m. eastern time tomorrow. If everyone is still here, and the earth has not opened up, I'll get back to stressing and filling boxes.

Our Schedule

2011-05-15T19:34:00.001-07:00

I've been wanting to do a "schedule post" for a while. It sparked a few months ago when I saw a friend I hadn't seen in a while. She mentioned our van and said she was glad to see what kind of car we drove, because she was wondering. (Kia Sedona in case you also want to know.)

So, I thought that even some friends and family don't know how things function and go on here. This, the house of triple babies. The casa de tres leches at breakfast, lunch and dinner. So, how about a run through of our day?

7:30 - awake! We start to hear the babbling and talking. Sometimes Chris stays to help with diaper changes. But most days he's out the door, to make the bucks, to keep the diapers coming. I change diapers and keep babies in their cribs until all are changed. We then head to the kitchen all together for breakfast. (Think mama duck and her ducklings waddling around her.)

8:00 - breakfast. The kids (like most) are ravenous when they wake up. So the moments before they are actually served substance of any kind are a little tense. I fill 3 sippy cups of milk. We say a quick blessing over breakfast and three heads tip back to guzzle their morning milk. Then, I either make eggs and toast, waffles, pancakes or french toast. I usually load up on the butter with any of these options. Two of the three barely made the growth charts last check up (1 percentile) so we are still calorie packing where we can. They love breakfast. Mom always includes some kind of fruit. Their favorite.

Good morning mommy!

8:30-9:30 - clean faces, get dressed, play. I'm going to leave this sentence short. Although the actual events are full of chasing, wrangling, sweating, and STINKY bums. I call them their morning bombs. Whew. Stay away from our house during this hour.

Just a little morning playtime while waiting their turn to get dressed.

9:30-11:30 - nap. My babies are so good at going down. It's a tender mercy I'm grateful for. During their morning nap, there is plenty for me to do. I clean up breakfast and get their seats, trays and cups ready for lunch. Then, depending on the day, I will either, run a quick 3 miles downstairs on the treadmill if I didn't do it before they woke up, get ready, laundry, (THERE'S ALWAYS LAUNDRY!) pick an area of the house that has not been cleaned in a while and do my best to make it look like I care. Or I might watch a DVR'd Parks and Recreation. Or read an overdue library book. Or, on a glorious day, I might even sneak in a nap with them. I have to be honest, I wish this was a more regular occurrence. There is some stupid mechanism inside me that can't really fall asleep if my regular morning stuff isn't done . Maybe I can get it surgically removed.

11:30 - awake! Diaper changes and play time.

12:00 - lunch. Our lunches are pretty standard and usually the same from day to day. We rotate between a black bean quesadilla, mac and cheese, sandwiches or if they liked a dinner from the night before, we'll have that again. Then some kind of vegetable. Carrots, peas, cauliflower, broccoli, sweet potatoes, yams, something.

12:30 - clean up faces and play. I usually let the babies play in the play room with their gate up while I clean up lunch. Then we'll play together until nap time.

1:30 or 2:00 - second nap of the day. This nap time is a little more lax for me. Especially if I was a super good girl and did the majority of my domestic duties during their morning nap. For example, I'm typing this blog post during an afternoon nap.

3:30 - awake! Diaper changes, snack time and walk. Now that the weather is warming up, we like to take a walk during this block of the day. But I'm sure as the summer gets going, we will switch it up and take our walk in the morning. (Aren't you just loving all these boring details?)

Out for a stroll. We love our new triple wide.

5:00 - I start dinner while babies play around me. They get into a drawer they think they shouldn't and play with laundry I haven't folded yet. Gabe loves to listen to a special cd of songs, over and over again.

5:30 - quiet time in their room. This has been a lifesaver for me. I put all the babies in their crib with the blinds up. I give everyone a stuffed toy and 3-4 board books. During the next 30 min, I finish up dinner, give the house a quick straighten and see if I can make myself somewhat presentable to my handsome husband.

6:00 - Daddy's home! Hooray! We ALL do a little dance and clap. Chris helps me get babies into their seats, pours their milk and sets the table. We eat dinner together and tell dad about our day. The babies either throw their dinner on the floor or gobble it up. They are fickle critics at dinnertime.

6:30-7:30 - baths, pajamas, play with dad, more milk before bed, chaos, stories, family prayer, brush teeth, sing a song, bedtime prayers, kisses, blown kisses at the door and lights out.

7:30 - 8:00 - clean up dinner, dishes, straighten toy room and bathroom.

8:00 - mom and dad time. Sighs, snuggling and none of your business. Dreyers real fruit bars have been a favorite of late. We love to sneak in a post-bedtime treat.

So there is a rough outline. Of course not everyday goes exactly like this. This post took me two days to write because one little monkey decided he wasn't going to take an afternoon nap. Some nights one or two might decide they are NOT going to bed and stay up. And the weekends are a bit crazy. Anything goes on the weekends. We try to stick to a nap and play schedule, but when you have a mom happily letting dad take over on a Saturday and 3 hours of church starting at 11:00 am on Sunday, our weekends get a bits nutso.

Common scene on a Sunday morning. We all love our daddy time.

There is our day! Don't you feel informed? It's fun to peep via blogs, huh?

Questions? Am I still leaving out details you would like to know about our schedule and daily logistics? Just ask! I'll answer. I'd be curious.

(If you're shy about not wanting fellow readers to know who asked the question, my email is to the right. )

More of Our Weekend

2011-05-10T09:40:00.000-07:00

We had a garage sale on Saturday. Or a yard sale. But on all the posters I made, I called it a Moving Sale. (Because that sounds like we are trying to unload more than just junk we don't want anymore, right?) I kept trying to remember what they call this kind of sale in the northeast. Rummage sale? Help me out my northeast people. I can't remember.

How incredible is this concept? Let's round up everything we don't want anymore. Then, before we actually donate it, let's see if people will pay us to haul it off. Outstanding!

We advertised the sale would start at 8am. However, we had people rolling up at 7:30 who then proceeded to dig through boxes I hadn't quite got around to spreading out over the yard. Amazing. At one point, there were so many people milling around our stuff, and $1 and $5 bills were being exchanged and rapid rates, I went in to check the clock. Surely we had been out there for at least an hour and a half. Surely, it was almost 10am, time for the babies to go down.

8:10am. It was only ten after!

Needless to say, I'm glad we had our little sale. It's a nice feeling to unload and purge a few things out of your house. And Chris only brought back in a few items. (You're selling this? I don't think so...)

Big shout out to my parents for baby wrangling so we could wheel and deal. Thanks mom and dad!

My Weekend Part 1

2011-05-09T12:28:00.001-07:00

Mother's Day has not always been a happy day for me. There were a few years when I dreaded that Sunday in May. Especially if church leaders in whatever congregation I was attending asked all the mothers to stand. It seemed every woman around me was on her feet and I was huddled in their proud shadows, barren and small.

Even now, with three kids (THREE!!) who all know me as mommy, those familiar feelings somehow found their way into my heart yesterday. It wasn't a bad thing. Like most challenging times, I think there is a part left behind on purpose. It was made clear to me during a poignant relief society lesson I heard yesterday (I actually heard the ENTIRE lesson thanks to a mother's day gift of daddy taking all the little ones instead of our usual divide and conquer strategy). That fleeting feeling of emptiness, despite my cup obviously flowing over was to remind me of others whose hearts ache because their arms are empty.

Although those years of lack were few, it left a powerful scar. I don't think I will be able to have a Mother's Day without thinking of those who aren't. So I leave you with a beautiful message by Sheri Dew. I love this message. I loved it before I had children of my own and I still love it now.

Are We Not All Mothers? by Sheri Dew

"Motherhood is more than bearing children. … It is the essence of who we are as women."

First Timers

2011-05-04T19:39:00.001-07:00

Remember when I mentioned my running blog is merging with this one? Not one running post since then. I think my running-self was a little hurt it didn't get it's own space in the interweb anymore. We're trying to simplify around here.

I have been running (a lot actually) still. But I just read a story about a friend's very first 5K and I had to share it. I am a HUGE fan of first time racers. I love to hear their reasons and how they did and how they felt. Love it. (Keep that in mind if you ever have a first race story to share. Share it here!)

Without further delay, I give you Karen's first 5K. Make sure to tell her good job! First comes the 5K, then comes running a half-marathon with me. Right Karen?

***********************************************
A Goal Complete

I really like running! I used to think that was a crazy statement when I played highschool soccer and during tryouts we never even touched a soccer ball. We ran and ran and ran a whole lot more. I never even put on shin guards or cleats. Just running shoes (and shorts and shirt). I hated running and swore I would never do it again.

But then I went to ricks and the cool place to be at night was the school gym. All the buff guys were there and liked buff guys. Most of the time I never made it to any equipment but every so often I jumped on a treadmill and cranked it to 5.5 mph. And it was then that I realized I really liked running, but only on treadmills and I got up to 6.5 mph. I started running a mile and then two, then three and one time even 6 miles. But 6 miles was a one time thing.

I mostly stayed at 2, maybe 3. It might seem silly to say I really like running when I only run 2 miles but I feel good afterwards so I can say I like it. So the past couple of years I have decided I want to run a 5K. Probably an easy task for some but I have been so nervous about it. Like I said, I only like running on treadmills. Running outside hurts my lungs and I get really tired after a half mile. Plus I don't want to finish last. But I might because I run slow.

So.......last friday Weston wakes me up in the morning and says, lets run a 5k together tomorrow. My eyeballs opened up and I froze!! I can't run 5K tomorrow I thought. I haven't run in a month and I need to train for something like that. I mean 3.1 miles for me is a long ways. And outside????? So scary. But all what I said to Weston casually is, "okay. Is it going to be nice outside?" Something I've learned about Weston is that when he doesn't know the answer to something he makes an answer up. So he says, "Ya, it's going to be really nice." So we signed up that afternoon. I was so nervous all day.

That night I was watching the weather on the news. They said, it was going to be snowing in the mornning so all of those die hard runners doing the 5k tomorrow better bundle up. Oh. My. Gosh. Did he say die hard runners?? That is so not me and SNOW for my first 5K??? My lungs are really going to hurt!!!! I couldn't sleep that night. Way too nervous. We get there late of course and start the race in the very back. The boise state track team was there in short shorts and tank tops. And Yes it was Snowing!!!! I guess nobody told the track team. The horn blows and we are off.

Of course Weston promised to stay with me the whole time but he is sprinting. Not going my 6.5 speed, but I did great for 2 miles. We were passing people like crazy. And then I thought I was going to die! I think my lungs were frozen. But I couldn't stop. For goodness sakes I can run 3 miles without stopping. But I stopped. For about 5 seconds and people were passing me. And that made me mad. I am so competitive I had to beat the people who passed me. I ran the rest of the way and finished my first 5K!! 1,000 people beat me but I beat 1,500 people so I'm good with that. Plus I was on the news that evening! I didn't really like running a 5K but last night on the treadmill I ran 2.5 miles easily so I think I will stick to my treadmill and my 2 mile run. 3 is way pushing it!

Before the run, I was so nervous!

Proof that I did it! And I had to wear those big huge orange shorts. It was a boise state run!! Look at all those people behind me, whoo hoo!! I beat them.

Some Think Outside the Box. We Play In It.

2011-05-01T19:48:00.000-07:00

Have you ever wrestled an alligator? Tried to put a shirt on a cat? Ever tried to catch a greased pig? Welcome to bedtime at our house. Three monsters with the sweetest faces you've ever seen and intensely independent minds of their own all laughing, crying, shrieking, running, tripping, climbing, throwing and any other word that end in "ing" you can think of a one-year old doing. They do it all. We eventually manage to get everyone bathed, dressed, teeth brushed, sang to, prayed with and tucked in. If you listen closely, from wherever you might be in the world, you can hear a collective sigh from mom and dad when the last kiss is blown from the door and the lights go out. We really, really like bedtime.

We also really, really love playtime. They are busy. They are curious. They are inventive and mischievous. Do you have a little one visiting your house? Not sure if your home up to baby/toddler proofing standards? Just have us over for 3 minutes, tops. My little crew will expose ANY weakness you might have. Before you finish fixing whatever they can't get into, you're already late on what else needs to be fixed. Most days, it's all I can do to clean up one meal before it's time to start on the next.

So yes, I do have my hands full. Yes, they do keep me busy. But I have an incredibly good looking partner who married me and took this whole "for better or for triplets" thing seriously. I have genuine smiles when I walk in a room. I have happy clapping to mom's silly songs. I have naps and bedtime. (They do sleep!) I have little readers and their favorite books that only can be read in mom's lap. And on the days when things seem to be their craziest, I have spectacularly spontaneous moments like these...

What's better than sharing a toy box with all your best friends? So, life is good.

When I said I have "little readers," I meant they enjoy books. They aren't reading yet. Just in case you were impressed/confused by my 15 month old home schooling program.

Welcome Home Baby C

2011-04-25T08:03:00.000-07:00

Dear Sunshine,

I'm a week late with this letter! Your official Homecoming Day was April 20th. But, as you've gathered, from living in this household over a year, sometimes things don't go as planned. And when I say sometimes, I mean most times. Can you believe you came home two weeks after Gabe and three weeks after Christian? I know you missed them when they left the hospital.

Our first time being next to each other. My first time holding you. You were three weeks old. (About 31 weeks gestation.) I was overcome with emotion. Bless your sweet nurse who was comfortable with getting us set up and situated despite you still being on the vent.

It was a deep ocean of pain and trials leaving you behind twice when one of your brothers came home. We were happy to have them in our own four walls, but our family was not complete without our little Sunshine home and happy. Maybe you wanted to stay a few extra weeks to have the wonderful nursing staff all to yourself. You developed quite a fan base toward the end of your stay. In the final days before you came home, I would come to see you and often you would be in a nurse's lap or an OT would be walking the halls with you. A lot of the staff had grown quite a liking to your bright light and spunky personality.

You were having lunch in this picture! Can you tell? This is the week you decided eating with your mouth was not happening anymore. You had tube feedings until a week after you came home.

I have learned gads of lessons from being a mom so far. But you have taught me one of the most important ones. I really, really wanted you to come home. The biggest thing holding you up was your inability to eat. It wasn't that you weren't physically able to, it's just that you wouldn't. You did at one time have a few milliliters every day or so while your brothers were also learning how to suck, swallow, breath, suck, swallow, breath. Then one day, you just stopped. Who knows why. You either got spooked, or decided you were being pushed too far too fast or just wasn't ready to be a full term baby yet. Whatever your reason(s), you were not shy about letting us know you were not ready.

Everyone under the same roof! This picture was taken a few days after you had been home. We were giving you a wee break from your feeding tube. We had to put a new one in and thought you looked quite happy without it next to your brothers. Five days later, it was gone for good! (Because you said so.)

So, here is what mommy learned, you are an individual. As far as I know, you have been an individual since before you were born. You came to us with a separate and distinct personality unique from your brothers, unique from mom and dad. You are unique and special to the core. Even though I wanted you to "just eat and come home already," you weren't ready. So even if I wished it really, really hard, you were going to do things on your own schedule. You showed me this more than once during your NICU stay, so by the time you did get home, I was ready. I was not going to put you or your brothers in a one size fits all triplet box. This important lesson of seeing you and your brothers as unique, separate beings has been the catalyst for other immensely important lessons to a mother.

I've learned patience. I've learned sub-species of patience that I didn't even know existed. I've learned to think with my creative brain to solve problems from time to time. (Or hour to hour.) I've learned the importance of moments. Small, individual moments throughout a day add up. Even if finding out which precise spot gets a tickle laugh during a diaper change is all you can manage for one morning, it's important.

You're an old soul my dear daughter. I've looked through those bright blue eyes and have seen your wisdom. Thank you for choosing me to be your mommy. Thank you for teaching me with such clarity. Everyday has been a new adventure for me. I can't wait to see what another year together has in store for us!

I have treasured your expression when your daddy walks through the door. This has happened since day one. Even as a tiny, newly discharged preemie, I noticed how your countenance changed when you saw your dad. These kinds of moments still happen. I have a feeling they will continue for a long, long time.

I have loved watching your eyes take in something new and see the gears in that pretty little head of yours turn as you process your surroundings. I love the sweet little gap in your two front teeth. I love the fact that you have a toddler version of a sweet tooth. (Just like your mommy.) I love your babbles. I love when you splash in the tub. I love your monk-like chant when you're falling asleep or waking up. I love your laugh that you share with sparsity, but when you do, it's like chubby cherubs playing hide and seek.

I love your light. You are indeed our beautiful, warm Sunshine.

We can't get enough of this smile!

Our pretty in pink princess.
Our family wasn't a family until you made your homecoming debut.

Happy Birthday from all 4 of your kids!

2011-04-24T06:02:00.000-07:00

I have officially taken over my wives blog post. My kids told me the other day when Kara had left to go to her writing group that they wanted me to tell the whole world (yes her blog is that popular) that they are so grateful for their mommy and love her so much.

Sunny said, "My mom is so pretty and I can't wait to grow up and look just like her someday. My dad says I look like her and that I am smart like her. I remember all the way back when she would visit me in the hospital almost every day even though my brothers were home. She read me stories, talked to me and helped me feel so comfortable. She always talks to me like I am older and I know school someday will be easy because of how much time she is going to spend helping me and "the brothers" learn. I love how much time she spends with me even though "the brothers" are always trying to use up all of her attention. She reads to me, plays with me and sings with me. I'm not as thirsty as my brothers are but she always makes sure I get enough. I love our walks she takes us on, she is always trying to make us happy. I can be kind of needy sometimes and I try to hold on to her shirt and not let go. I do that every time she holds me because "the brothers" are always trying to grab her attention. She loves me and makes me feel special. She would do anything for me because she is my mommy. HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY, YOU ARE MY BEST FRIEND!

Christian said, "My mom is amazing. I test her patience everyday and she never breaks. For those of you that don't know me I have a lot of energy and I'm trying to get my terrible 2's over with before I even get to 2. I know my mom loves me because of how she treats me. She reads to me, plays toys with me, picks me up every time I fall (which seriously might be 100 times a day), comforts me when I hit my head on all kinds of stuff, cuddles with me, and sings to me. I try to talk to her everyday and let her know how I am feeling, she listens to me and tries to understand what I am saying. She is my comfort when I wake up in the middle of the night because I had a bad dream. I am such a happy kid because she loves me and makes me smile. I love her cooking and eat whatever she puts in front of me. My mom is teaching me how to be soft and gentle with my brother and sister. She shoots hoops with me on my little hoop and teaches me how to throw the ball around. I don't think every mom out there is as good as she is at sports. Thanks mom for loving me and always being there when I cry out for you. HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY, YOU ARE MY BEST FRIEND!

Gabe said, "I love how my mom reads to me everyday. Sometimes she will read the same book 5 or 6 times to me because it is my favorite. She lets me listen to my favorite CD that teaches me about animal sounds that I mimic. She never gets frustrated with me when I treat changing my diaper or getting dressed as a game that I try to wiggle out of. I love her so much that I try to latch on to her legs all day long trying desperately to get her to hold me. Even though she is busy and has to watch Sunny and Christian she picks me up as much as she is able. I am kind of picky when it comes to food. She is patient with me and makes sure I always have enough. She will even cook me a plain waffle versus a blueberry waffle because she knows I don't like those yucky blueberries messing with my awesome breakfast. I can't think of a mom who could love me anymore. She knows I am little but loves me anyways. She makes me feel strong and important and always praises me. I know she will always be there for me. HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY, YOU ARE MY BEST FRIEND!"

Kara, I also want to express my appreciation for you. (Sorry if this gets to mushy for some of you. Wait 98% of the people that read this blog are women. I'm good.) I knew how great of a mother you would be when I married you. You have officially surpassed my expectations. To accomplish what you do on a daily basis with our kids is nothing short of a miracle. With all 3 of them grabbing at your legs and trying to get your attention all day long it's a wonder how you can accomplish all of the cooking and house work. You have seen me with these kids on a Sat by myself. When you get home it's an accomplishment if I have got out of my pajamas for the day. You are truly amazing and I love you! I look forward to our next set of triplets (just kidding, twins would be fine.) Ok seriously I will stop. You are my best friend and I sincerely thank you for being such a terrific mother. That is the best gift you can give me! HAPPY BIRTHDAY WIFEY, YOU ARE MY BEST FRIEND!

(It's amazing how difficult it is to take a picture of one of these kids on your phone while you are trying to get them to hold a piece of paper, with the other two grabbing at your legs. It was fun! Regardless....these kids truly do love their mommy. Have a great Birthday dear!)

Where Ya Been?

2011-04-19T19:27:00.001-07:00

Maybe some of you have asked yourself, "Hey, wasn't there a triplet mama girl that used to put up blog posts and stuff? What ever happened to her?"

I'll tell you. We have been on an all expense paid vacation to Hades! That's right, a lovely tour of the River Styx and an ever impressive stay at the seventh level. We even went there in a handbasket.

In other words, my kids have been sick. All of them. Stomach and intestine bug sick. If it wasn't coming out one end, don't worry, it came out the other. Awesome!!

So, it's really been all smiles, giggles, unicorns and rainbows for the past little while. (Wait, strike that, reverse.) Because they don't all get sick at the exact same time on the exact same day. Nooooo. They each take a turn, like one day after another. (Did I mention my husband came along?) So it really extended out our stay. Just when we thought it was over, there was another exciting adventure around the corner! Usually in the middle of the night!

Lovely.

But every vacation must come to an end. So we have left the seventh level of hell and are now back to our normal day to day life. (almost. real close.) And I couldn't be happier. Or more grateful for healthy, happy babies. I know my sweet little monsters are happier too. Poor things. They did not like our vacation to Hades.

(I hate, hate, hate those sad faces when they don't feel well. Awful.)

Shhh! Don't tell...oh, wait. Nevermind.

2011-04-06T12:30:00.000-07:00

My sister loaned me one of her cookbooks. It's the Jessica Seinfeld one about sneaking in fruits and vegetables into your kids favorite foods. It is a great idea and I got a little gun-ho about trying out the concept. Especially since some of my little tigers are developing, let's call them, "opinions" at meal time.

I had a giant 5lb bag of carrots freshly purchased yesterday just waiting to be pureed and hidden in their favorite lunch, a cheese and black bean quesadilla. So I peeled, cut, and steamed a bunch of carrots. I decided to only puree half of them.

As I was pureeing, I remembered something. Uh, my kids like carrots. We eat them, like, all the time. (Hence the 5lb bag in the fridge.) I didn't need to disguise them in anything! So I chopped up the remainder of the un-pureed, orange root and gave it to them with lunch. They happily gobbled everything up.

I still have a Tupperware full of orange mush. Hmm. Maybe we'll have orange eggs for breakfast tomorrow.

Simplify

2011-04-05T10:11:00.000-07:00

I used to have two blogs. Now I have one. Two blogs? Really? Like I need to make my life anymore complicated.

I'm not sure how many people actually clicked over to read my running blog. But my running adventures, romps and failures will now be found here. You're one stop shop for both passions in my life, my family and running.

Who's excited!?! Woot! (crickets....)

Welcome Home Baby B

2011-04-04T07:45:00.000-07:00

Dear Gabriel,

I don't call you Gabriel very often. You're my little Gabe. You're mommy is amazed and caught off guard at how fast time ticks by. One year ago today, we brought you home from the hospital. You had been making new friends there for about 3 months. Plenty of nurses loved taking care of you. You had a knack for getting caregivers wrapped around your tiny finger. Of course your parents were hooked from day one.

We had complex emotions as we packed you and your things. We had gratitude for everyone who helped take care of your brother at home while mom went back and forth to the hospital for you and your sister. We had blissful charm in our hearts for one more healthy baby able to leave the tangle of wires and monitors. Soon you would be in the secure arms of mommy and daddy. We had one-third of our hearts broken. Your sister, still not ready, would be left behind again as she had to say good-bye to another brother. Taking another angel home while still leaving one behind wasn't any easier the second time.

All ready to go join brother.

Safely tucked in your seat and buckled in the car, your dad drove us home with careful happiness. Once home, we snuggled you by your brother. We took lots of pictures. Your mom attempted to breast feed you both. (TRICKY!!) Family popped in and out over the next few days welcoming you home, snuggling you close and happy to change diapers and clothes without the mess of wires and tubes.

All my boys.

What surprises me the most is the person you are today. When we brought you home, you were so sensitive to...well, everything! Your little nervous system was still catching up from being born 12 weeks early. It was a little heart-breaking to see your scared face when my arm would pass over your head while changing you. You liked to be swaddled tighter than a cocoon. We really needed to protect you from the outside stimulus that just happens in normal life.

But now! A year later, you love to roughhouse with your dad. You love to be held down and tickled. You love when someone chases you. Your loud laughter echoes through our home. You were the last one to crawl and a little behind your sister and brother when it came time to roll and move. Now you are upright, bi-pedal and I can't close doors fast enough to keep your curious legs out. You are a magician in finding out every place you're not supposed to go and in finding everything you shouldn't have. Your day is full tilt from the minute you wake up to the moment your little blond head hits your favorite red blanket.

You have taught your mommy so much. I've learned that even though you might share a mom, a womb, a room, a birthday, the same breakfast, every child is unique and extraordinary with their own style, quirks and independent spirit. I've learned to never underestimate one's ability to learn and change. I've learned that prayer is powerful, grounding and completely crucial to raising children. I've learned a mother's heart is indeed capable of loving more than one tiny baby, more than one homecoming miracle, more than one busy, buzzing toddler.

Happy Homecoming Day Gabe. We love you so much.

No Waffling About It, Breakfast IS Awesome

2011-04-02T19:05:00.000-07:00

Since I've been putting up all these ridiculous bracket picks, I am realizing how much I really like breakfast. I mean, I knew it already, but I really like breakfast. Really. I love to make breakfast. I love to go out to breakfast. I love that there can be a special meal called brunch which is usually heavy on the "br." Way more breakfast foods at at a 10:00 am meal than lunch meats and rolls.

So, in honor of me liking breakfast so much, (because anytime there is a chance to honor breakfast, I will do it) I thought I would share one of our breakfast things we do. Waffles! I'm not an Eggo kind of girl. I like real salt, real baking powder, real whole wheat flour waffles. I literally make these almost every morning. I also misuse the word "literally" quite literally all the time. On non-waffle mornings, we'll have eggs or pancakes or french toast. And fruit. Always fruit.

My Waffle Recipe:
1 C whole wheat flour (or rice or soy flour is good too)
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp real salt (I recommend Real Salt, a local Utah product!)
1 egg beaten well before adding to mix
1 C milk (can also substitute soy or rice milk etc. also)
2 Tbl oil (I like olive)

Mix up, let it sit for two or more minutes and pour in a good old waffle maker.

This recipe makes about 6-8 waffles. Double it up if feeding a crowd! Syrup of course is a classic. But we like REAL syrup. Well, I do anyway. (I promise I not a food snob.) Since REAL syrup tends to run on the pricey side, we do honey on our waffles and pancakes.

I'm getting hungry.

Here is a little sample of breakfast at our house! Blueberry pancakes were on the menu. Sometimes I feel like I'm feeding the three bears.

Too much blueberry! (Gabe)
Not enough blueberries! (Christian)
Just right. (Sunny)

Gabe wouldn't touch his pancakes until I had picked out every blueberry on his tray. Aren't we too young for this? Help!

Sunny loves breakfast too. Especially whatever fruit is on the menu. She kicks her little legs when I serve her the sweet stuff. She also likes ketchup on her eggs. Just like her mommy.

I hope one can really appreciate the extent to which this little bear is covered in his breakfast. He's a two fisted, no slowing down, eat whatever is in front of him little boy. His hands were stained blue until bath time.

waffle picture found here.

There is a Featured Couple in This Post

2011-03-31T09:57:00.000-07:00

I can't believe my new blog header has been up for over a week and I haven't said one word about it! It was created by my very talented sister-in-law, (do we really need the in-law part?) Mindy. Isn't it darling?

If you haven't been to her blog, it's probably because it's private. :) BUT, she and her sisters have a really great recipe blog you should check out. I feel like it's spring every time I see my new header. Even though there are constant snow flurries going on outside my window. Not today, but still. So thanks Mindy!

Is anyone still voting in the fridge bracket absurdness? Something crazy happened and all the votes from yesterday erased. Not sure why. I guess it just adds to the ludicrousness of it all? I'm not putting this comment up to change anyone's mind. I just thought it was hilarious. It's from my brother Michael who also happens to be married to Mindy.

McDonald's Bathrooms and a Banana Slug are in a current match-up:

I have been up close and personal with banana slugs and they are not half as bad as a McDonalds bathroom.

Ha!

PS - an account of my 13.1 miles of scampering around Riverton last Saturday can be found here.

Riverton Half-Marathon 2011

2011-03-31T08:52:00.000-07:00

Despite loving to run, and doing it off and on for nearly 10 years, I have never ran a half-marathon. Until now.

Last Saturday, we plucked sleeping babies out of beds, loaded them in car seats and headed to the valley. It's quite an event to go anywhere with the babies. There's loading of bags and preparation of breakfast, lunch, snack, car snack, sippy cups, changes of clothes, etcetera. Then I still need to get stuff ready for the babies! (bu dum ching.)

I ran the race with my friend Steph who is such a wonderful person and always has a smile, a happy attitude, and also does my run/walk/run style. She's a fabulous race partner. Her husband Steve (future ironman in training) and two daughters, Amber and Heather were outstanding hosts to my kids and husband while we scampered off to the starting line.

Our smiles are frozen on at this point.

Utah had a lovely spring snow (read: booooo on you snow!) the day before so race day morning was frigid. We huddled around standing heaters before we lined up and I jumped in placed to get blood flowing to my digits. Stephanie thought she had a rock in her shoe the first 1/2 mile. Turned out it was just a numb foot.

Steve took this road side shot of us galloping girls.

We definitely warmed up and were shedding layers mid-race. The course was beautiful. We ran through a neighborhood, a 55+ community, and the majority of the race was along the Jordan River park trail. It got a little interesting in some places. The snow, warm weather, snow syndrome that happens here caused the trail to be flooded in some spots, so we jogged through a little mud trail and under a bridge at one point. We also skirted a golf course which made me giddy in anticipation of swinging a club a few times this year. Last year's baby-palooza kind of halted any golfing. I think we can squeeze in a few rounds this year. I hope.

There were a few hills. One killer one around mile 10. I don't know if I have a problem. I don't know if I should seek help, but I love em. I love the uphills. No joke. I heave and huff and puff and need a serious slow jog recovery after. But I love dem hills.

The cooler weather turned out to be perfect for trotting 13.1 miles. Probably the best part of the day was the new PR Stephanie crushed. She ran this race last year and showed me her card. She finished 2010 at 2:40 and some change. We crossed the finish line at 2:28:03. Amazing!

There it is! Steph crossing the finish line and her new PR.

It was a near perfect first half-marathon experience one could have. (I think anyway, I don't have a lot to compare it to.)

Don't we look post-race outstanding?

Great friends, beautiful course, smiling volunteers, it was a great day. But the thing that most made my heart beat a little happier was the tall, handsome guy pushing the triple stroller at the finish line. Chris has been such a champion to my running habit and makes sure I have plenty of time on the weekends for my long runs. He surprised me with a treadmill this last Christmas because the cold weather mixed with being mom times three to one year olds makes it tricky to get in those weekday runs. He is my biggest fan. I loved that it wasn't a question whether or not he was going to be there. He wanted to!

My sweet babies had red noses, despite being bundled, so the post race festivities didn't last too long. We headed back to the Galleys. It involved a little foam rolling, taking turns showering, a couple of recovery shakes, and a little bit laying on the living room floor. :)

Great day.

Babies having a little lunch while mom foam rolled.

Welcome Home Baby A

2011-03-28T07:37:00.000-07:00

Dear Christian,

Happy Homecoming Day! One year ago today you left your first home of 3 1/2 months for your new home of forever; home with your family. You spent 82 days in the NICU and came home one day after my due date. You came home on a Sunday and the day before, your Aunt Shauna and Grandma D threw mom and dad a baby shower. The hospital called me that morning and told me you were ready to come home! My emotions billowed from my belly and I was overwhelmed. We had been there for months and months and finally you were strong enough, well enough and big enough to leave the safety of monitors and nurses.

Our first day being next to each other, eight days after you were born.

Your dad and I drove to the hospital the next day with elation and rapture. It was actually the first time making the drive to the hospital that I felt this emotion. You were coming home. There were papers to sign and items put in bags. The bustle and excitement of getting you strapped in your seat took some time. Then the nurse said, ok, that's it. Time to go.

I lived the word "bittersweet" that day. Because my good humor of taking home my baby suddenly cut my breath short because I had to say good-bye to the ones we were leaving behind.

Of course I would still be able to come and do my regular visits. But you couldn't come with me. Your dad went to work for us almost everyday to provide for things we needed. Our situation was about to get notably complicated. We had to figure out had to be this separate family.

You would be in our home, free of wires and tests and beeps. The others still not ready. They would be in your old house, hooked up, monitored and just, not home.

The nurse carried your car seat out of the unit, down the hall and through the doors of the hospital. I followed with surprised reluctance and flowing tears. You have spent almost every day of your life with those babies we left behind that day. So when you read this, when I tell you I was sad, I know you'll understand.

Although pieces of my heart were left behind, we were over the moon to have you home. It was very special for you to have your mom and you dad all to yourself. We held you, kissed your sweet face, changed your tiny diapers and swaddled you in new blankets. I didn't sleep one iota the first night you were home. I kept putting my finger under your tiny nose to feel your warm breaths. The monitor dependency took some time to go away. Your dad and I were both nervous and excited to have you all to ourselves. We didn't have nurses and doctors telling us what we needed to do. But at the same time, we didn't have nurses and doctors telling us what we had to do. Somehow, we managed to do a few things right. You were fed, cleaned, cuddled, changed, loved, burped and the center of our universe for that first week home by yourself.

So along with your birthday, which you share with your best buddies, we also celebrate today. March 28th, Christian's Homecoming Day. Because a year later, we still have a lot to rejoice in and be grateful for in your life. Any reason to celebrate you and your light is a good day.

Jimmer's Out, NOW You Can Really Focus

2011-03-25T13:11:00.000-07:00

on this awesome bracket.

There's a bunch of picks this time. I combined two segments of the bracket in one picking spree.

Couple of things on the picks you're about to make:

Mascot pick in honor of Shane and any other UC Santa Cruz alumni that might be out there.

McDonald's now serves oatmeal. Don't let that fool you into thinking they are now offering healthy options. Here's a bit from a NYTimes food guy, Mark Bittman:

"Incredibly, the McDonald's product [oatmeal] contains more sugar than a Snickers bar and only 10 fewer calories than a McDonald's cheeseburger or Egg McMuffin. (Even without the brown sugar it has more calories than a McDonald's hamburger.)"

I'm not saying you shouldn't eat there. Live and let live! I'm just informing the population of facts. (cue The More You Know song and star...)

Also, the 13.1 vs shoveling snow is in honor my race tomorrow and the snow that has recently blanketed my yard. (BOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! to the snow, not the race)

I hope you're having fun with this silly game. I sure am.

PS!! Jabba and the Spurs are in overtime. Dead tie. Vote again.

Last round's winners:
Mike and Ike
Braces for 2 Years
Peanut M&Ms
Waffles
The Tango
Uno
Car Trip

Super Dale 5K

2011-03-23T14:02:00.000-07:00

Although the winds blustered and blew us around, (at one point, I think I was actually running in a diagonal slant) good times were had at the Super Dale 5K! There really is nothing like running FOR someone. I only live in the same community as Dale. I've never met him. But it was sensational to come together with your family, friends, neighbors to do something fun for a purpose. It was touching to see a few athletes there with disabilities gearing up their racing chairs in support of Dale.

Often I think how thankful I am for my body and abilities after I go running. I feel so good as my lungs work at full capacity and blood pumps to my limbs, brain, heart, fueling my desire. On this day I felt especially grateful. I hope Dale and his family are finding peace with this sudden curve ball life has thrown at them.

Finishing the last (extra) 1/4 mile together! Left to right: Michael, Ben, Sheryl, me, Shauna, Jenna.

Yes, we wore matching shirts. Deal with it. Chris skeedaddled home right after to rescue our neighbors from their kind act of triplet-sitting.

Other BEST parts of the day? All the people that raced with me! Chris ran with me which was stupendous. I paced us the first half, then he decided he could go faster. I kept up with him (it was fast!) but I knew he couldn't hold it. How rude does that sound? Nothing worse than an arrogant runner. He eventually slowed down, admitted he was tired and we finished together. The race was actually .25 mile longer than a 5K. Our average pace 9:24.

Almost the entire race day crew. Back row: Dane, Michael, Mindy. Middle row: me, Jenna, Shauna, Sheryl, Amelia, Rich, Kim. Front row: Alex, Ben

My sister Shauna, her husband Rich and their 7 year old, Alex also ran. My brother Michael, his wife Mindy, Mindy's sister Kim and her husband Matt joined the racing fray. Michael did a ridiculous 6 something pace. He finished in 24 minutes and change.

My mom raced. My mom raced! Why two sentences to announce this? Because it was her first ever organized race! We were all tremendously proud of her. My mom started her current career in her nearly empty nest years. Also, at 50+ decided that she was going to take up races. (She's also a future Ragnar finisher.) She is inspiring. Most would say, "eh, maybe if I was younger..." Most think that things you have done in your life, at a certain point, are what define you. The End. No more new adventures. She inspires me to always keep hold of new dreams and go after adventures not yet experienced.

Big hoopda hoop to Jenna for watching everyone's kids in the back of Shauna's Pilot while the adults pranced around. Cute picture here. Big hoopda hoop to my great neighbors who came over to our house at the last minute to watch mine. (Did I mention there were gale force winds blowing?)

Hooray, the finish line is up ahead!

Post race we feasted on an early lunch. Lunch was much less windy since we ate indoors. It was also delicious.

They were a little bummed they missed the big race, but said the pasta salad I made for lunch helped make up for it.

Chris, some weirdo who was trying to look like a turtle for some reason and Shauna

I have another worthwhile 5K to promote! Stay tuned...

Fridge Bracket Absurdness Continues

2011-03-23T06:06:00.000-07:00

Thanks everyone who voted in round one!

I regret a couple of things. I spelled mignon wrong. Also avocado. My husband who DOESN'T have a degree in English let me know this. Duh. Also, I told you to gather votes, but the poll only let you vote once. I'll see if I can correct that this time around. Sorry about that.

In honor of one of the choices (Cha-Cha vs Tango) I included a clip for you. My sister was in Dancing With the Stars, Southern Utah University Edition. She did the very sexy tango. You might watch it and be confused who is the amateur and who is the seasoned dancer. Jenna is the AMATEUR people! She was amazing!! The only dancer to get a perfect 10 from one of the judges. Because of this clip, obviously the tango is a higher seed than the cha-cha. It would be a pretty big upset if cha - cha won.

Enjoy, then vote!

Last round's winners:
Folding Laundry: 53% of vote
Camp: 61%
Avocado:76%
Cafe Rio Pork: 65%
Snowed In: 96% (make yourself known you ONE hold out for a flood...)
Filet Mignon:57% (sorry Carrie...)
West Coast: 76%
Hot Chocolate with Mallows: 80%

Insane Month in Spring Fridge Bracket

2011-03-20T20:35:00.001-07:00

Is your bracket busted? Have your picks been Jimmered? Never heard of Virginia Commonwealth? No problem. I have what you need. Just answer my poll questions to the right to play my Insane Month in Spring Fridge Bracket. The original is literally on my fridge. I just need your input to advance picks to the next round.

The bracket is totally random and past the first round, picks will have little or nothing in common. So chances are, the further we get, the less it will make sense. Just like watching a foreign film!

A few rules:

1. Gather votes from who's around you. Browsing blogs during class? Poll your students and or peers. Four year old looking over your shoulder? Get their pick.

2. Don't question the original match ups.

3. All questions must be submitted in writing.

4. Go with your gut.

5. Check back often for more match ups to vote on.

Ready...play!

Thoughts on a Thursday

2011-03-17T14:36:00.001-07:00

I'm wondering when one grows out of the "I have to wash two pairs of hands after I change a diaper" stage. In my case sometimes three. (And those really interesting days, four pairs.)

What are you doing down there mom? Let me feel around and see...

What are you doing over there mom? Let me come over and help with whatever it is your doing...

Now I'm wondering how many of my readers I just alienated by putting a yucky image in their heads.

I'm having cream cheese chicken for dinner tonight courtesy of Howe to Cook. Go there and follow them. They are awesome. I would also like to win whatever it is they are giving away next.

I really need Axe to stop their campaign towards young men. Seriously. Girls will not automatically flock to your side because you smell like every other person at your high school. Don't ask me why I care. I just do. Stop it Axe!

Go Wofford. (Don't tell me neighbor I said that.) (Or the rest of the state.)

I meant to say "my" neighbor. But I think I'll keep it because I'm pretty sure that's how leprechauns talk.

Why does food on a tray not get eaten, but that same exact food that is thrown on the floor gets put in mouths faster than mom can get out the broom and sweep it up?

Did you know I have three Walker, Texas Ranger's at my house? No, there is no one here who can kidney punch a full grown bear. But once a nickname pops out of my mouth in a spontaneous moment, it stays for a while. All three little rascals have taken steps. Some do it for longer stretches. Either way, it's been very fun(ny) to watch.

Christian: full speed, wobbles, walks like he just got off a horse. Has many contusions and/or bumps from navigating his new world of mobility. (I'm walking, I'm walking, I'm walking, I'm CRASH...waaaaah...)

Gabe: short, little side steps. My little guy looks like a crab with all his side walking! But probably my favorite is the look on his face between points. It's a little...umm, panicked? (I'm gonna make, I'm gonna make it, I'm gonna make it...) But he is getting braver everyday.

Sunshine: small, calculated, sure of herself steps. I called this one from the beginning. She has been waiting to see all the mistakes her brothers have made in learning how to walk so she doesn't make the same ones. She takes about three steps, then slowly sits and resumes crawling. (That's enough for now. Walking is easy, but I'm not ready to do it down the hall.)

My final thought is a favorite St. Patrick's Day quip I overheard in a conversation last year. It's deep in the archives. But I found it for you here.

Cheers and a green, happy day to you all!

My Life is a Country Song

2011-03-05T20:22:00.001-08:00

My dog didn't die. I'm still married. I didn't bail my Uncle Rufus out of jail. Not that kind of country song. Just one actually. Ever since my Baby Boy A has been upright, there is one phrase of a country song that keeps running through my head. So my life isn't an entire country song. Just a line.

There's a carrot top who can barely walk, with a sippy cup of milk...

And there he is! (Isn't that a sweet face?) I caught it yesterday. (Amazing feat actually seeing how he never sits still.) My carrot top (you can't really tell in the picture, but he is RED) barely walking with his sippy cup of milk. He actually has two sippy cups. You can see his brother in the background chasing him down for stealing his milk. He's not running everywhere (yet) but he does walk just as much as he crawls. Gabe is not far behind. He stands on his own all the time and has even taken a few steps after he works up the courage. He does this little step in place before he takes his two or three steps. So. stinking. cute. I love it. Sunny stands up by herself too and does the best walking when she is holding a hand. In fact, I kind of think she can walk no problem, but for some reason doesn't want to be the first one. I think she's waiting for her brothers.

They're busy! So busy. That's the word of this stage. You should see the creative contraptions we have keeping cupboards and cabinet doors closed.

Speaking of busy. If you're not busy, go to my running blog and leave your answers to my questions about music at the end of the post. I really want to know what everyone listens to if/when they run, walk, skip crawl. Also, there is a sweet picture of me in my winter running attire. Don't get all player hater on me for how awesome I look.

BTW - Lonestar's Front Porch Looking In is the soundtrack to Christian's latest accomplishment.

Music and Gear For the Long Run

2011-03-05T09:08:00.000-08:00

No frozen hams today. Today's long run was so much better than my last one. I learned from my mistakes and layered up today. An extra layer of skin underoos and extra pants over my tights. MUCH better. Much warmer. Although I think I look like a complete nerd in all my gear (hydration belt, little pack for a gel, big hat, there's a picture below) I had everything I needed for a fantastic nine miler.

Music is an essential part of my running regimen. Every once in a while I will go sans tunes because I think it's right to be one with where you are. There is something almost sacred about your feet hitting the earth while you hear the birds talk, see the leaves blow, smell the cows and notice the melting snow.

But today was a music run. Just for fun, here is a rundown of who kept me company during my one hour, forty one minute jog fest. Eclectic is the word of the day.

Sounds So Good - Ashton Shepherd
Coldplay - various, always from Viva la Vida!
Battle Hymn of the Republic - MoTab (you better believe it)
Rihanna - stood under her umbrella, ella, ella, ella
Forever - Chris Brown (WHY do I love this song so much?)
Alicia Keys - she's my girl
Shinedown - Second Chance
Eddie Vedder - Hard Sun
Nickleback - Chris and I share an ipod. Normally, not my thing. (I mean BLAH!) But for some reason on a run, they get me going.
Kings of Leon - DEFINITELY my thing. Love em.
Sting - All This Time Album
Popular from Wicked (...ler...lar!)
Justin Timberlake - at about mile 5 we BOTH brought sexy back.
Mos Def - Quiet Dog
Mana, Shakira and Locos por Jauna - My heart is 1/16 Latina. It's got to be fed.
Metallica - my running guilty pleasure band. Where is that crown King Nothing?
The Way I Are - Timbaland (Another favorite I don't know why I like so much.)
Counting Crows - 1995 called, they want their playlist back
Alien Ant Farm - Seriously, Annie, are you ok?

There is a sample of my playlist of songs whilst prancing through my back country valley looking like this:

(I had Chris snap this picture when I got back. What a nerd! Me, not Chris.)

9 miles. 1:41:39. 11:17 min/mile.

What is on your running playlist? What songs get you going mid run?

Selling Our Stroller

2011-03-02T13:12:00.001-08:00

We are ready for an upgrade! I thought I would let my blogging dudes know before ksl.com that we are selling our triplet stroller. There always seems to be someone that knows someone's cousin's sister's neighbor's tennis partner's friend that is having triplets. So pass this along if that is you! (Pictures down below.)

We have loved this stroller. It is made for Graco Snug Ride car seats (5-22lbs) to snap into the frame. It has been so nice to be able to click the kids from the car to the stroller and then back again. The company that makes it also sells toddler seats that will snap into place if you want to keep it past your babies outgrowing their first car seats. For our situation, it isn't practical for us to get the toddler seats. We are just going with another stroller.

The frame folds up beautifully and fits in the back of our minivan no problem. Let me know if you're interested or know someone that might be. Here is the company's website for more info. Of course we are putting a used price tag on it, although it is still in outstanding condition.

Even if you were having twins and have a toddler, this could also work! Two Graco Snug Ride seats and a toddler seat ordered from the company, and you would be all set for mobility. PS - we live in Utah and would not be too excited about shipping it. Local offers only please.

I Was Running

2011-03-01T09:27:00.000-08:00

In case you didn't know, I'm (a little) obsessed with running. Click here to see a great race you should do for a great cause. It will be fun, light and very family friendly. The best kind of race!

Do This 5K/10K

2011-03-01T09:15:00.000-08:00

As promised, I have a worthwhile 5K to promote.

Dale Lawrence is a local high school student in Heber Valley. He was injured a few months ago during wrestling practice.

From the school's website:

On Tuesday, January 4, 2011, Wasatch High School senior Dale Lawrence suffered a serious neck injury in wrestling practice. "Super Dale", as he is known to Wasatch High School students, is currently rehabilitating at University of Utah Medical Center. While Dale is still unable to move his arms and legs, he has regained some sensation in his limbs. Dale is in the thoughts and prayers of the entire Wasatch community.

On Saturday, March 19, there will be a 5K/10K race with all proceeds going to his family. I'm all about running FOR something. It's super easy to sign up. Only a $10 minimum, but I'm sure we can all give a few extra bucks. Click here for the link.

Happy running! Spring is close. I can smell it. (Even though my phone says it is nine degrees outside right now, I'm looking at the sunshine and pretending it's 50.)

2011-03-01T08:56:00.000-08:00

I signed up for a marathon this year. It will be my first one. I've done Ragnar, a handful of 5Ks and a 10K. I've done a lot of running just to run. But this will be my first BIG race. (Although Ragnar is pretty big. I'm kind of in love with it.) I picked the Wasatch Back Marathon for two reasons: 1) it was cheap and (2 location. Did I check the course map or elevation changes or any of this? No.

Should I have? Umm, yes. This lovely race has a steady elevation climb for 13 miles. You run up a mountain for 3000 feet! Of course the pay off is the rest of the race is down hill, but still. My friend has reluctantly agreed to run this race with me. Even though her husband (who is in training for an Ironman) said we were nuts to run this race, we are still going through with it. She is calling it her own personal Ironman, er..woman.

The messed up part is despite the ridiculous elevation climb for 13 straight miles with no break insight until mile 14, I'm all geeked out about it. I'm slightly thrilled for the training program of hills, hills and a few more hills for good measure. Can you say masochistic?

Dear Chris

2011-02-25T14:16:00.000-08:00

Remember when you took me to that Josh Turner concert? We loved singing along and swaying together to all the songs. We were so close to the stage! Although it was such a fun night out with you, I still prefer when you drive me around and sing along to the radio about being soul mates and how you love the sway of my hips.

I remember, before I knew I loved you, I thought your eyes were beautiful. Day one actually. When we first shook hands that ran through my head. Beautiful, blue eyes. Now I have three pairs of them that look into everyday while you're at work. It helps me not miss you so much. Our babies all have your sparkly eyes.

Remember Hawaii? Driving with you along the coast with the top down, every night at sunset. I didn't know my heart had it's own song until then.

Do you remember when it was just us? We made plans minutes before we jumped in the car. We ordered sushi because it was a Tuesday. We slept in on Sundays. Sometimes we would buy tickets to two movies in the same day. You'd make me get a treat, even if I told you I didn't want one.

I remember those days. Some days it's a little cloudier than others. But I remember how in love with you I was.

Our life is a little different now. I have to keep a calendar to remember the nights you're working late or when the kid's doctor appointment is. Spontaneous car rides are planned days in advance. I don't think I would be able to sleep in even if I could.

My life is diaper changes, afternoon snacks, sippy cups, Cheerios at church, dishes, dishes, laundry and more dishes, laundry and then more diaper changes. But I'm happier now than I can ever remember. Happier than an extra treat at the movie theatre. Happier than boogie boarding 4 foot waves at Big Beach in Maui.

I love you more now than yesterday. Thank you for making me a mommy. All four us adore you.

Now hurry home! It's Friday afternoon. Which means we are all ready for two whole days of daddy.

Addiction

2011-02-21T19:37:00.000-08:00

Hi. My name is Kara and I'm addicted to running.

It's the only conclusion I could come to after rehashing my Saturday long run to my husband.

Him: How was your run?
Me: Miserable.

I then went on for minutes and minutes about how during the entire 7.5 miles, I never warmed up. How it suddenly started snowing, like, HARD at about mile 4. Have you ever seen an animal in the middle of a snow storm out in the middle of a field and thought, Oh, poor cow. I was the cow.

My rear end took days to finally get warm. I felt like I was hauling around two frozen hams.

Later that day, I had a text conversation with a friend and continued to rant to her how terrible it was. (She was the first to hear my cow analogy.) It was then I realized, yes, it is conclusive, I really must be addicted to this crazy activity. Or else, why? Why in the world?

I was actually giddy Friday night when I went to set my alarm because I needed to wake up and get running before the babies woke up. (Side note: I heart Saturdays. Daddy is so good at getting our munchkins breakfast and such on the weekends. Such a welcome break. LOVE it.) I was looking forward to plodding along at 5 miles per hour in 35 degree weather on the one day that I could actually sleep in if I really wanted to.

Before: excited.
During: miserable.
After: complained about it.

But will I do it again? Abso-friggin-lutely.

Because although I was a freezing cow, that familiar endorphin rush kicked in (during my complaint session) and my body and mind felt whole and good for a long time.

Because there are lots and lots of reasons why I run. Four of them happen to be the cute faces I left behind that morning. I'm such a better mom and wife when I get my running fix.

I could've slept in or steeped a herbal tea cup or two. (This was a thought I had around mile 5.) But I got up at 6:30 on a Saturday morning, in February, in the back of the Wasatch and ran.

I think I might need help. (Or just an extra layer or two.)

2011-02-18T21:04:00.000-08:00

For any of you LOTR fans out there. Click here.

(The Shire and Misty Mountains are my favorite. I'm also partial to Lothlorien of course.)

National No Sarcasm Week

2011-02-17T21:00:00.000-08:00

So, it's not a national movement. Just one in my own head. I think I am WAY too sarcastic of a person. I decided I need to cut back. So this week is officially NO SARCASM WEEK! (fanfare trumpets playing...shoot, was that sarcastic? Oh boy.)

If you interact with me in life, feel free to call me out on my self-challenge if you see me this week and hear any form of sarcastic comment escape my lips.

No sarcasm! YeA!

Gabe and Sunny in a box. I had just explained to them what the word 'sarcasm' means. (Shoot, I'll start over.)

Christian scaling the baby gate out of the play room. He had heard my boring lecture about sarcasm to Gabe and Sunny and didn't want a repeat. (Ok, NOW I'll start over. No sarcasm starts...now.)

Showed em How to Wrestle, Twisted em Like a Pretzel

2011-02-14T11:13:00.000-08:00

Just a big shout out to my little brother McKay for taking 3rd place in the state championship this year! That 125 pounder is one tough dude. Although I only made it to two matches this entire season (I have a few excuses) it was always to great to see him in action. I'm always impressed with how he carried himself after, win or lose.

Of course, I'm the worst memory keeper of all time lately! Did I have my camera with me on Saturday? Yes. Did I remember to bring it in? No. Did I have my phone with me that also has a camera built in? Yes. Did I remember that I had it? No.

So no pictures of the big champ. Just imagine a handsome, smiling 17 year old, who looked like he accomplished something grand. Because he did.

Love you McKay!

(I think Gabe might have a future in wrestling. He's quick, wiry, a unusually strong for a peanut of his size.)

Also, another quick little woot woot to my alma mater for taking 1st place as a team! Go South Summit. Lots of fun memories of cheering on friends at many a wrestling tournament. Or as we say, The Wrastles.