Blogging...

It's my 300th post and I'm having an identity crisis.

Why do I blog?
Is it for you?
Is it for me?

What do I put on here?
Do I write what I want you to read?
Do I write what's going on inside my head?

Is this my journal?
Is this my travel log of my daily ongoings?
Is this a picture gallary for my family and friends?


I know I'm private but I still feel so public...
Do I share my weaknesses?
Do I fake my strengths?
Do I just post and let you decide?

But then that brings me back to...
But am I posting for you?

Or for me?


Why do you blog?

Conference Weekend

Okay, this post is really late but I'm really far behind. It's been a rough, emotional month for me. I've been in this weird funk for the last few weeks.

So, over General Conference weekend, Ken worked security at Octoberfest and the kids were out of school for four days. Without church to break it all up, it felt like four Saturday's in a row. I printed off some activities for the kids to do during Conference. It worked! The kids were angels. It was such a relaxing weekend and I loved every session of conference.

Justyn working on filling out his booklet where he summarized each talk and set goals to improve himself.

Kate glued a picture of the speaker and then colored the color of each speakers tie. Basically the only colors she needed was red! and a little blue.

I loved during the second Saturday session when my kids sang along with the children's choir.

Some slept when they shouldn't have...

And some it was a complete relief when they finally did sleep, gooby face and all!

I could do four day weekends like this more often!

Tomatoes

A couple days before it snowed, the air was really chilly outside. I decided to pick the tomatoes out of the garden. Okay, I have to tell about my garden for a minute. I planted this big garden full of green beans, carrots, peas, corn, tomatoes, peppers, sunflowers, herbs, rhubarb, zucchini, cucumbers, pumpkins. NOTHING grew. Not even weeds!! In fact my neighbor told me that she enjoyed driving past my yard because my garden made her laugh every time. Okay, I had 5 stalks of corn that grew, three at one end of the row and two at the other end. I had a row of green beans that all popped out of the ground and then all burned up and died. I had one plant the survived and I picked 5 beans off of it. I had on cucumber plant grow and the ants ate all the leaves off it so it died. My rhubarb did good but not good to eat the first year. Some of Justyn's sunflowers grew and did pretty good, but what do I do with sunflower seeds. I know we will roast them but seriously, if only one thing was going to grow, did it have to be sunflowers? My pepper plant grew a couple of scary wilted little peppers with "spiders up the butt" according to Kate so we didn't eat them. So when I discovered that my tomato plants had hundreds of unripe tomatoes on them (we only had a couple that ripened on the vine), I decided to not let them go to waste. I froze my fingers off as I picked every one of the tomatoes and then brought them into my kitchen to let them ripen in the windows. My mom said it would work... and it is.

My only problem is that Henry thinks they are balls...

so most of them end up in the garbage. Oh well, I tried!

Early snow

October 11th we woke up to a blanket of snow covering the ground. It was beautiful,and I didn't get a picture. (Go to Amy's blog for proof of how much snow we really got.)

This picture was taken after most of the snow had melted. The kids made a snow man with the neighbor kids over at their house.

Open House/ Art Fair/ Cross Country Banquet

The school had an open house/art fair. Of course it was the week Ken was out of town so I was on my own. I felt like I was off schedule all night but we made it to everything and had a fun night.

Alexys with her teacher, Mrs. Stevens.

Alexys made hair accessories for her art project. She made ribbon pony tail holders, flowers on pony tails, and some ribbon barrettes.

Shaelynne made some folders out of place mats. She uses them to take her quiet activities to church in. (Somehow I missed getting a picture of her teacher.)

Justyn grew giant sunflowers this summer in our garden. He also made an Airwolfe helicopter out of legos and a poster to represent his latest obsession.

Justyn with his teacher Mrs. B

Zach made a poster of his running.

After the open house, we hurried over to the Cross Country banquet, totally missed the dinner and all the awards, but got there just in time for Zach's award. He received the "Zach Attack" award because even though he struggled with asthma, his coach was impressed that he never mentioned it to anyone. He just kept working through each practice and race, and never getting discouraged with his results. He actually was a little emotional when he told the group that Zach had ran the last race without stopping once. He was proud of Zach's perseverance and determination. We were surprised because we didn't know the coach even knew about Zach's asthma. We didn't even know about it until this year when he started to run so it was all new to us also. I'm thankful they let him run with Robert Stuart this year. It was a good experience.
Zach with Coach Harper.

Tag!

Jenna tagged me because she thinks I have too much spare time on my hands. Since I'm avoiding Saturday housework, homework, and my grumpy fighting kids, I would love to sit at my computer and talk all about myself.

1. I don't get sore throats. I just loose my voice. (Why is this on my mind? Because I lost my voice for all of last week.) I used to get sick all the time so my mom had the doctor take my tonsils out when I was in 8th grade. Now I never get sick.

2. I always know when my body is really stressed because I get a cold sore. The first one I got was after I delivered Zach. The last one I had was last week while I was unable to talk. That's the other way that I know I'm sick.

No voice + Cold Sore = SICK!

3. I bite my fingernails. Okay, I used to bite my fingernails, and I hated it. I couldn't stop though so when I got my tonsils out I was excited because it hurt too much to bite. Then my fingernails grew a little bit, I painted them and that sort of helped. I'm like a recovering nail biter. I have to consciously make the decision to not bite my nails everyday. If the nail is snagged or uneven, I have to be really careful because I bite to fix it and before I know what happened, there's nothing left.

Warning:Next one is personal and possibly uncomfortable for some. Feel free to skip.
4. I hate my periods! I used to be totally regular. Then I spent 13 years having babies, nursing, birth control, and whatever else. 18 months ago I had my tubes tied after Henry was born and now my body is out of control. I cramp hard and have a constant migraine for a week before, then gush massive amounts of blood for a week, sweat like crazy in my sleep, loose 2-3 pounds, sleep alot, completely stop bleeding for a couple days, think I'm done, get a really bad migraine, finish bleeding over the next few days, have one week where I feel normal and then it's time to start the process all over again. I guess I'm still regular, just in an irregular way.

5. I struggle with spending my money on food. While I'm grocery shopping or cooking, I always think of all the money that will just be "flushed down the drain." :)

6. I am not a huge fan of going to the medical doctor. I feel like I pay too much money just to waste my time sitting in a germ filled office, listen to him to tell me what I already knew and give me a prescription which he knows I won't fill anyways. Basically I feel like it's a waste of both of our time and he wins and I loose because I give him my money and he builds a really nice house on the canyon with it.

7. Someday I will learn to Swim! Dance! Play a stringed instrument, and travel farther than Idaho, Utah, and Oregon! I will also get my college degree and learn to run. One step at a time!

I don't know who to tag so I'm tagging everyone related to me!



P.S. I just reread this post and it seemed a little negative. In my defense, Ken has been gone all week, came home last night and went hunting all day to day, it snowed last night so my kids are stuck in the house, I'm having my psycho period right now, I woke up with a headache, a stuffy nose, and a scratchy voice (I just got over this last week) and I'm FREEZING! After I clean my house, do my homework, and spend some "happy time" with my kids, I'm planning to hybernate away what's left of the day !

P.S.S. That last entry wasn't any happier so I'm going to quit now but here's a cute picture that should have been my Wordless Wednesday post this last week.

My life is really, really good! And I have great kids!

I am blessed!

For Mom and Deb

Since I spent so many hours on the phone with my mom and my sister Deb trying to remember details and write this paper, I promised them that I would post it so they could read the final paper. The assignment was to analyze a tradition. A BIG thank you to my own personal editor, Ken.

Just a Family Drive

One lazy summer afternoon, my husband and I were traveling with our children up a winding mountain road. After a difficult week we were on our way to a nearby mountain lake to enjoy an afternoon full of relaxation, and to also take advantage of having a small family picnic. As we headed to our destination, I pointed to several familiar sites along the way. During the course of our adventure to our mountain lake, my husband asked me how I knew about all of these places. I smiled at his question as my mind filled with memories from my childhood. I relished those thoughts as my mind rediscovered the joy of those past memories. Suddenly, I discovered that my love for family drives stemmed from a much deeper meaning than that of my passion for nature and the suspense of what was hidden beyond my view. Family drives had become a tradition that increased my love of nature and family, bridged the years between generations, and provided a way in which I could find joy in the simple things of life.

I grew up in a large family. My parents owned a small dairy, and a small acreage of farm land. The cows had to be milked and fed twice daily, and the land had to be watered and farmed. With a small dairy farm, and a large family there wasn’t a lot of money to go around. The option of hiring help wasn’t even thinkable, and therefore the daily tasks associated with a small farm were left to my parents. With a mother and father that were committed to the farm, we weren’t able to travel very much, and when we did our trips were never far from home. I always listened to my friends talk about their vacations, and dreamed of seeing the Grand Canyon or going to Disneyland. While the farming could occasionally be delayed for a few hours, my parents always had to complete the chore of the twice daily milking. I grew up knowing this was the price our family paid because of my parent’s choice of occupation, and knew that exotic vacations would simply never happen.

My parent made sure they always enlisted our help when it came to taking care of the family and completing the daily chores. We soon became experienced hands with regard to moving hand lines for irrigation, picking the rocks from the fields, hoeing the weeds from the crops, and feeding the animals. I remember grumbling a lot about these responsibilities. As a reward for completing our chores, my parents would occasionally take us on a picnic between chore times. This was a huge sacrifice for my parents as it meant they had to rise earlier than usual to get the milking done. They also had to get the car ready for the drive, and fix a lunch. Upon returning home from our drive, the car had to be cleaned out, the food put away, the younger kids bathed, and another milking still had to be completed before retiring for the evening. With the burdensome workload that my mother and father carried, we learned that these family outings were an event to be cherished.

On the morning of our big day, we would excitedly rush around doing such things as loading the big blue cooler with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches made with my mom’s homemade whole wheat bread. We packed ice water, and homemade chocolate chip cookies. As soon as my parents got in from morning chores and changed their clothing, we quickly loaded the car with our picnic, and headed for a new adventure. My parents owned a blue and white van that seated 12 passengers. Due to the size of our family, every seat was filled. The problem with our big van was that it had a small motor, which resulted in not having a lot of power. More often than not, and without warning, the van would start to smoke. It didn’t matter which direction we headed on our picnic for the van to start acting up. Whether we went on a desert outing, or to the mountains, the van always overheated. When the van acted up, Dad pulled over to the side of the road, and we would scramble out. While we waited for Dad to fix the car, Mom looked around for someplace where we could enjoy our picnic lunch.

We were always disappointed that we didn’t make it to our planned destination, but we enjoyed finding activities to pass the time. Through our exploring, we made several discoveries. Just off of a well traveled road, hidden from our view, we found a world full of life. My parents were supportive by letting us explore so long as we didn’t wander too far away. We chased butterflies, played in the creek, climbed big rocks, and forged our own trails. We also enjoyed collecting treasures like colored rocks, wildflowers, and Indian arrowheads. As our family bonded with each other on these outings my love for them increased. I realized that this time together with family also instilled a great love for the outdoors.

When the car had cooled to where we could drive again, we were tired from our activities, and chore time was quickly approaching. The drive home was usually quiet since we would fall asleep. When we arrived home we reluctantly helped Mom unload the car, and clean up. As we cleaned we listened to my mother express her frustration at the day’s events. Our outings were reminiscent of her time as a child when her father would take them on family outings. Her trips also ended in similar fashion as their vehicle would often overheat and land them on the side of the road. My mother told us that they would do similar things that we had done earlier as they would pass the time waiting for their car to cool down. As she told us about her childhood, and the experiences that she had been a part of, the years between us seemed to disappear.

From these experiences I quickly discovered that luxurious vacations where not required to have memorable experience, nor were they necessary to forge deep family bonds. As we took the time to simply eat our peanut butter sandwiches, while driving an unreliable family car; I learned about life. I learned that the values of parenting were more than just rewarding my children for doing their chores. The true lesson was finding joy in the simple things around me.

A long time has passed since my childhood days on the small dairy farm. Money is just as hard to come by now as it was then. I better understand the stress my parents went through as I try to raise my own children. It’s in those difficult moments when the stress builds in my own family that I fill my blue cooler with homemade sandwiches, water bottles, and chocolate chip cookies. Once loaded, we set out to see where the road will take us that day. I still travel many of the same roads that I once traveled as a child with my parents. As I look out the car window, I can’t help but wonder what lies beyond where I can see. Though our car does not overheat, we still manage to find a quiet place to eat our picnic lunch, and enjoy our time together. I love to be surrounded by the beauty and sounds of nature.

Occasionally, we stumble upon a place that is familiar to me. In these moments I remember a childhood trip ending here. I smell the memory of an overheated car and reminisce. It’s in these moments that I know our real adventure for the day has just begun as I hear my own children’s squeals of delight. I watch them explore their new surroundings, and wonder if this tradition will continue for another generation. Through a tradition as simple as a family drive, I share my love of nature with my children and strengthen my own family bonds with them. As I share stories from my childhood, and from my mother’s childhood, the generations seem bridged, and my life feels complete.