I cried when I read this. Cried because even though the logistics of changing a diaper and knowing how to clean up a crib full of throw-up like what greeted me this morning, are much easier than when I was new to it all, the emotional adjustment that accompanies a complete change in one's identity is still ongoing for me. There are days when I long to feel that feigned importance of having classes to attend and a job to report to. When, simply put, everything in my life revolved around...me. And since "me" is not a very high maintenance person, not much energy was expended in keeping care of myself :) I could slide by with grocery shopping maybe a couple times a month, and live off oatmeal and peanut butter. I could put off doing laundry for as long as I dared. I could be with myself and my own thoughts without being interrupted. Yes, I know that you're probably thinking that not much has changed. And that is part of the problem, I will admit.

But what has changed is the presence of JPEG in my life. Oh how I love them. And maybe that is the other reason why I cried. Because try as I might to take mental photographs of every little moment that fills me with wonder, I know these days are fleeting. That Phineas will soon be running instead of displaying his tentative bow-legged waddle. That Ellie will soon be proficient at pronouncing "tr" instead of substituting the sound with an "f" (although, that will be less of a shock to my ears when she relentlessly yells at me to look at the "truck"). And that Gracie will not constantly be at my side gifting complements to every stranger she sees; the very compliments that I think of but have lost the child-like purity and fearlessness to voice. And even our days of living on love, with absolutely no money, might one day be a thing of the past.

And so the next time I bemoan to Jacob that my youthfulness and prime of life is wasting away in this basement apartment of ours, I will stop. Because when I am completely honest with myself, I know now that I really didn't have anything of huge importance to do before all this. I think I thought I did. And it was easy to convince myself that I was good at whatever I was doing. But now I'm engulfed in the real thing. I am not just pretending to be someone important anymore. And sometimes this scares me. But most of the time it has me laughing, crying, teaching, playing, sometimes cleaning, but mostly loving.

A little frustration with my alma mater

This morning I debated whether or not to drive south to BYU, or “Bye-Yoo” as Ellie has dubbed it. After Jacob’s clarification that the 30 day grace period to renew our vehicle’s registration was up at the end of December, and not at the end of Januray as I had thought, I felt like this knowledge would somehow jinx me and I would get pulled over. I had unknowingly been driving around illegally for half a month with no problem, but it’s interesting how our perspective always changes when innocence is lost. Since I had already promised the girls a fun excursion with the cousins, I felt like I had no choice but to risk driving with expired stickers.

I pulled into the visitor’s parking lot with, characteristically, not a moment to spare. The girls were prepped and ready with the instructions “okay, the second I park the car, unbuckle, get out the car, and then we run, and I mean run to the Planetarium to make the star show!” Everything was going great until I hopped out of the car and nearly ran into the campus police officer who, for a split second, I had considered not parking right in front of. But assuming that my registration stickers were of no concern to a University, I had decided to take advantage of the great parking spot that would shorten our run by a few hundred yards.

Oh how I’ve missed BYU policemen. Next to providing a wonderful “police beat” reading each week in the university paper, they always make sure that no infraction too small goes unnoticed. But once again, I reiterate, why should a campus police officer be concerned with my registration? But I’m so glad that I gave him a sense of purpose today and that he was able to issue me a fun “fix-it-ticket” (looks like they’ve been implementing some creative citation options since last time I spoke with them) where I have two weeks to get my problem fixed with only a small fine. And he delayed me by that moment that I did not have to spare, and hence we missed the much-anticipated star gazing show.

But looking on the bright side, I won’t feel guilty this year for not donating to my alma mater. I’ll count this as my contribution.

a few firsts

One year ago today...

Was the first time I discovered that my baby was breech.

It was the first time that I had ever been wheeled into a cool, sterile, florescent-lit operating room. Surreal to say the least.

It was the first time that I had ever received a cut more than a half inch long or just a little more than skin deep.

But then, oh then, the first time I saw His face. It suddenly seemed as though it wasn't the first time. He looks so very familiar. This was my first thought.

And that thought sustained me through the many more painful firsts. The first time standing up on my own without pain killers. I thought for sure there were 1000 needles stabbing and burning me. Oh, I guess it was just the 1000 staples holding together layers of flesh. No big deal. In short, my first time healing from a c-section, wondering if I would ever be normal again.

But all of these firsts for me pale in comparison to a first year of life for a spirit child of His who finally has the chance to obtain a mortal body. How momentous and significant for my little Phin. And in case you didn't know, he is our first son.

wrestlers and looters

I cleaned out the car this morning. My hands were freezing, and therefore it took a while to unpack the half of my house that had found its way into our vehicle. I’m not sure how so much stuff accumulates in there, but strangely, I find that I miss it after it’s all gone. I have become accustomed to being able to rummage through the odds and ends and find whatever I need when I’m out and about. Kind of like when I clean out my purse; when it’s in its normal state, I’m bound to find a pen when needed. But a clean, empty purse always fails me.

The girls play some wrestling game on the trampoline while I throw out all of their backseat garbage. I’m never sure when to step in and stop activities such as throwing each other around and sitting on top of each other all while laughing and giggling. Because we all know that it starts out innocently…and then the attached scarf somehow gets ripped off of the coat. There is momentary sadness, but then the freed scarf opens up a whole new world of possible trampoline games. I don’t have the heart to scold and warn when the two of them are actually getting along and having a grand old time. And now that we’re inside and our noses and fingers are returning to their normal color, they think I don’t know that they’ve stolen the Halloween bag to pillage its contents under their bed. To be 4 years old again, and never have to give a thought to cluttered cars or ill-fitting clothes. I might as well let them enjoy it while they can.

no more country roads

This morning I woke up determined to get out of the house. Well, I guess that’s not entirely accurate. First I woke up determined to slide out of bed without waking Gracie’s warm little body that had crawled into bed with me shortly after His big warm body had crawled out of bed in the wee hours of the morning.

Two hours later after a few minor meltdowns over applesauce in the oatmeal instead of the standard milk, we made it out the door. The cold does something to my soul, and I am determined to battle it this winter by exposing myself to sunshine and civilization at least once a day, with my three amigos in tow.

I deemed today IKEA Tuesday because children eat free on Tuesday. Add that to the genius of IKEA’s “smaland” and you have the perfect combination. Our isolated basement is pretty close to IKEA, so when I have no food in the fridge, it’s a lot easier to go to IKEA than to the grocery store for nourishment.

We had our daily allotment of Jacob time for a short 20 minutes or so. Perched on the bathroom counter, Ellie observed his daily afternoon shave while I ironed some crisp new lines in the sleeves of his white shirt. I then proudly presented my crock-pot chicken sandwich to this handsome husband of mine. Proudly, because I so often fail in this simple domesticated task. We all miss Jacob’s cooking, almost as much as his absence in the evenings. After tying on his apron, which Ellie deems his “skirt” as she scrunches up her nose in disgust, we bid Him goodbye and saw Him out the door. I hate to see him leave again so soon. But such is the life of a family who must make two house payments.

I am trying to embrace this new phase of single parenthood that has graced my life since the onset of Jacob’s second job. I often find myself thinking, “hmm, I’m betting that this new perspective will serve me well at some point down the road.” There’s something about being the one and only to wake up with three little people under the age of 4 and spend every second of the day with them until they are tucked into bed at night. Hence, the new phase of this blog where I will find sanity and joy through documenting these days. I think writing has a way of forcing one to see the beauty and sweetness in the otherwise mundane happenings of the day. In the writing of it one must articulate and acknowledge the details of life that we too soon forget. Kind of like a mango: I forget what an amazing experience it is to eat that fruit of all fruits until I force myself to just pay the dollar for one, carefully carve it open, and take that first bite. Really, it fills me with an almost tangible joy. Sigh. If only I had more dollars to spend on such an experience. We’ll hope that writing does it for me J

tuesday

So, I've been thinking a lot about The Fountainhead.  It is my new favorite book.  I just wish I had read the book 10 years ago so that Grandma and I could discuss it.  But Jacob and Katie make for good conversation, so that will have to do for now.

Speaking of Jake the great, he's probably fallen asleep on his knees downstairs on the bed.  He has a tendency of doing that.  It's very endearing.  But such is the life of a school teacher who waits up for me to come home from hair school, just so he can warm up my dinner that he's cooked and then tell me funny stories of the children that he babysits all day, both at school and at home :).  And to discuss The Fountainhead with me to my hearts content, and then to finally get ready for bed and say his prayers after a very long day.  You can't blame him for falling asleep sometimes.  

Really, I'm just so in love with the above mentioned boy.  

Not to mention Gracie and Ellie.  I missed them today.  I missed my surprisingly deep conversations with Gracie.  I missed Ellie taking off her diaper and running around in pure delight as I chase after her trying to pin her down long enough to velcro on another diaper before the air on her little bottom causes problems.   

And my final thought:  I love to cut hair.  I love to cut off dead ends, and create a new, beautiful shape.  I love fresh, new  starts.  Maybe that's why I love haircuts.  Good night!

4 years

"Was there ever a man who truly loved a woman, or a woman who truly loved a man, who did not pray that their relationship might continue beyond the grave? Has a child ever been buried by parents who did not long for the assurance that their loved one would again be theirs in a world to come? Can anyone believing in eternal life doubt that the God of heaven would grant his sons and daughters that most precious attribute of life, the love that finds its most meaningful expression in family relationships? No, reason demands that the family relationship shall continue after death. The human heart longs for it. The God of heaven has revealed a way whereby it may be secured. The sacred ordinances of the house of the Lord provide for it. . . "

~Gordon B. Hinckley

I hope to be able to go snowshoeing again on our 57th anniversary, and maybe even again on our 200th anniversary if I'm up for it :)