All Things Lily.

Lily had her birthday a month ago. She is ten. Yes. Ten. I know. I’m in trouble. She requested an angel food cake for her birthday. A homemade angel food cake. I have attempted to make an angel food cake, twice, from scratch before. And both times, I was not successful.

A few years ago we had invited some long-time Prusso friends over (their kids grew up with Dustin and his brothers) and she had brought this amazing angel food cake. I remember at the time being enamored with it and begging her to help me make one and she had agreed. I figured that she had agreed in the same way that we all agree as we meet new stranger/friends at the park to ‘get together sometime,’ as we pretend to exchange phone numbers. However, in desperation, I called them and even though they were totally doing other things, more important things, promised to help me. So the afternoon of Lily’s birthday, Barbara and Monty (both of them) came over and held my hand as they walked me through the process. They were so great, they made me do it all myself as they gave very specific instructions and explained why everything had to be ‘just so.’

Lily, 'helping' to put the icing on her perfect cake.

And the result of this afternoon was an amazing, delicious angel food cake. And I have so much gratitude for this couple. I mean they’re retired they should be traveling or playing golf, not stuck in my kitchen with screaming kids helping me make a cake. What a great birthday gift to me.

We invited them for dinner and they came and we ate and we inhaled that delicious cake. And the best part was that Lily was SO AMAZED with that cake. She’s at the age where she can really appreciate things like homemade angel food cake.

In other Lily news, big Lily news…she’s going to leave us for a month this summer to go to Spain. Yes, that’s right, Spain. She was invited by my brother-in-law and his Spanish wife to go with them. It was not easy to say yes, trust me. But I had to look at this in a much larger perspective. Not that I’m losing a daughter for a month, but how this experience is going to change her life. Forever. I’m excited for her and nervous for me. But, as she said when I mentioned that she wouldn’t be able to do swim team this year if she went, “Mom, I’ll be swimming in the Mediterranean everyday.” Well. It’s hard to argue with that.

A Beach in Malaga.

So she’ll be off in less than a month with a passport in her pocket, an itouch loaded up with books, movies, music and skype (so she can call home), and a suitcase packed with swimsuits and sandals—enough to get her through a month of the Mediterranean.

Am I jealous? Yes. Very. I guess this is one of those sacrifices that parents make for kids. My parents did the same for me.

I did, however, renew my passport as she got hers. Cause, you never know.

Last bit of Lily news. She insisted that I make her a new quilt, once that would be bunk-bed compatible. So, with a burst of creative energy not seen since Fall of ’08, I made her a new quilt. The self-imposed stipulations being I could spend no money. I almost made it. I spent $4 on the binding. But the rest of the quilt was made of scraps that I’ve had or inherited. I didn’t turn out too bad and the bonus: She LOVES it.

Her quilt. On the top bunk.

This concludes my post of all things Lily. Feel free to leave comments that support my decision to send a ten-year-old to Spain—I’m in need of encouragement and commiseration. Do those words even go together?

Remember, I have a passport. Invite me to Europe. Anyone.

Thoughts on the St. George Ironman Triathalon.

Daisy on her first bike lap.

This past weekend I packed up the van and the kids and drove them to St. George to watch Daisy in her first Ironman Triathalon. The experience was, in many ways, unbelievable. First, incase you’re wondering what an Ironman is, let me enlighten you. A 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike and a marathon (yes, you heard me right). Daisy has been training for this for a year, but let it be said…I think that she’s really been training for this her entire life.

We spent the day, Saturday, driving from one part of the course to another to cheer her on. I felt like a total heifer as we sat comfortably on the side of the road with our foot long sandwiches, 64 oz. Diet cokes and bags of chips—pausing for breath only occasionally to yell out, “Good job!” as very toned, incredibly fit athletes whizzed by so quickly that if you blinked—they were gone. We had quite a system to figure out when, exactly, Daisy was coming. Shayne and Dad were never far from their phones as they tracked Daisy’s progress, by her electronic chip. Shayne also had family and friends stationed at different points along the course and they would call/text/tweet updates as well. Finally, unable to calm her nerves and just wait, Nana would walk ahead a quarter mile and watch for her there. As we heard her signal whistle we knew that Daisy was always close and get in position to cheer. She always looked amazing and smiled and yelled and waved. And then, just as quickly we’d pack up our chairs and head onto the next spot.

Shayne and the girls sporting the "Team Daisy" t-shirts that I made. One of their friends made the sign.

In our defense, however, it was no small feat to get 10 children from one spot to another and then, while we were there, make sure that no one got killed by an overzealous athlete on a bicycle. Plus coordinating meals and naps for said group was a nightmare. As Dad later put it, “She [Daisy] has no idea what we’ve been through today.” This after 12 ½ hours of extreme exertion on her part.

When Daisy was on the run, we were so excited. We were like, “she’s on her run! She almost finished!” And then we’d realize that it was still a marathon. A MARATHON people! It was crazy. All of those people out there, still running after all those hours swimming and on a bike must have superhuman powers. It was, as I said, unbelievable. Daisy was hoping to finish the race in 14 hours. She WAY exceeded her expectations and finished in 12 ½ hours. She was AMAZING! What was really extraordinary to me was that there were so many people who were able to finish this thing. I had no doubts that Daisy would be able to do it, but was so surprised that there were so many people out there like Daisy. My heart is still cheering for all of those people and what an amazing thing they’ve accomplished.

Daisy on the run.

The next day we HAD to go on a hike because that’s all Canyon wanted to do the whole time we were there. We went to Dixie Red Rocks? I’m not sure if that’s what it’s called. I took my kids and three of Daisy’s and the kids had a blast running around and hiking on the red rocks. They found caves and ledges and sheer cliffs. It was at this point that I wondered if I was crazy to take seven kids out there on my own. The adult/kid ratio wasn’t the greatest. They had a great time though. It was so much fun for the cousins to play together as they don’t often get to see each other.

All the kids on our hike.

A big thanks to Dustin’s aunt, Jackie, for letting us stay in her beautiful home. The kids slept great and I loved sleeping with the widow open and listening to the crickets all night long.

Anyway, Daisy, you were incredible. We had a great time coming to cheer you on and are bragging about you every chance we get.

And lastly, we were happy to provide a boy for Shayne to do "guy stuff" with.
( You really thought you'd never see this, didn't you, Shayne!)

Canyon's Birthday.

Canyon had his much-anticipated birthday a week ago. It was a hit by all eight-year-old accounts. I mean, let’s face it, all a birthday really requires is a great sugary cake, ice-cream, and lots of legos. Right? I made a cake that was supposed to look like a lego block—I’m not sure if it did, but that didn’t seem to bother Canyon much. We had a great warm day, a BBQ outside, cake and lots of playing in the grass, dirt, on bikes, and play-fighting on the trampoline. I can’t really believe that Canyon is eight already and just to drive that point home, he went to his first cub-scout meeting and he and Dustin already perfected their first pine-wood derby car together. Sigh.

Canyon with his lego cake. Notice he's dressed as Boba Fett.



The Spoils. He was noticeably less excited about the scout shirt than the legos.
Still excited though.

Canyon’s such a great asset to our family. Not only is he the calm amidst the stormy weather (read: three girls), he is sensitive, loving, obedient and extremely creative. He keeps our family in balance. I only wish there were more of him!

My Cup Runneth Empty.

Why do we, as mothers, wives—with our lives as crazy hectic as they are—sometimes feel so empty? I think that what we really need is two weeks at some beach. Either alone, or with commiserating girlfriends. In her book, Gift From The Sea, Anne Morrow Lindbergh hits this right on the head (keep in mind, though, she did take two weeks at the sea—by herself—to come by these words of wisdom:

“With our garnered free time, we are more apt to drain our creative springs than to refill them. With our pitchers, we attempt sometimes to water a field, not a garden.”

That’s what I’m doing. I’m watering a field. And I’m running out of water.

Tell me, has anyone figured out how to say no?

I, myself, would be happy to take a few weeks at the sea. Preferably a warm sea. With sun and books and lots of food and long walks. I think what it really is, though, that in a thankless job—we just want someone to say thank you.

So I’m saying it to all of you moms out there—thank you. Thank you for all the meals, cleaning, the laundry, the cleaning up of poop, the wiping of runny noses, the middle of the night feedings, the hours of homework, driving around, Costco runs, cleaning (did I already say that) and so much more.

Thank you.

Crap.

I think when someone tells you that you look tired--what they really mean is that you look like crap.

Am I right?

The Art of the Nap.

I remember sometime in graduate school reading Joseph Epstein’s essay, “The Art of the Nap.” I don’t remember much about it except that it seemed to offer an argument about the benefits of napping (who could argue with that) and then went into detail how best to nap. If I remember correctly the characterization of a perfect nap included sleeping on a couch or comfortable chair, never in a bed, taking off of one’s shoes, but not clothes, and never longer than twenty minutes. Since becoming a mother I have found another benefit to nap-taking.

A moment of peace.

Jane, the youngest of my children and therefore the one most likely to nap, has given up the practice of napping long ago. It seemed that for so many years I cleared a schedule for a baby to nap that I can’t, however impractical it is, give up those precious hours. So we are home, every afternoon for what I stubbornly continue to call “naptime,” even though we haven’t had consistent naps for years. Lily and Canyon roll their eyes in the summertime when we are grounded from all other social activities each afternoon for our ‘quiet time.’ We read or play quietly. Even outside play is sanctioned. But, there are no errands, no exhausting trips to the pool, park or library—we reserve those for morning or late afternoon. And even though I never, ever take a nap of my own, I just revel in a quiet time that is only slightly quieter than the rest of my day.

But occasionally on a very rare day, I find myself alone, in the afternoon, with Jane. And on an even rarer occasion of these days—she takes a nap.

And it is, once again, quiet.

Over the River and through the Woods.

A couple of weeks ago I did this certifiably crazy thing. I decided, in the middle of a stormy week, on a Tuesday that I was going to drive to Utah, on a Wednesday, with the little girls. I heard that Will and Eliza had RSV and their mom wasn’t feeling that great herself. Holding a baby—or two, or three was all I needed for an excuse to see my family. Luckily, Dustin was super supportive and even, dare I say, a little jealous. I left early in the morning. Dustin, Canyon and Lily were left to brave the next 10 days on their own.

Can I just say that driving to Utah in the winter is a lot like labor. Here are the similarities.

Equally as long: 14 hours.

White knuckle, tense, holding my breath: driving over the chain-required Sierra’s in the middle of a storm.

Long, very tiring middle section: the drive across Nevada. Luckily I had plenty of caffeine.

A moment of hope as I think I see the light at the end of the tunnel: finally getting to Highway 30.

Transition: Deer, fog, darkness and utter despair. Thankfully the girls slept through transition. Dustin had to coach me through on the phone.

The end: Finally arriving to Sadie and Christian’s house ready for a hot shower, oh wait, they didn’t have any hot water! Aargh!

Once we were there, though, we had an amazing time. We got to play with the twins everyday. Jane and Alice were a ton of help as Jane liked Will—or as she called him, the blue baby—and Alice was happy to play with Eliza.

{Here's Will & Eliza the first day, I was so proud to get them both to sleep}

The bonus was that there was also Baby Soren (it was like triplets) and of course, CJ. Angie & Hyrum were also a bonus and Angie and Jane found that they are truly “kindred spirits.”

{Soren had the BEST smile. It was wider than his face!}

It was nice to be helpful (hopefully) and get a lot of time with family. Dustin and the kids were doing great on their own. I think they ate out a lot and my friend, Trish, even brought them dinner one night. They loved being home without the noise of the ‘little girls.’ As my few days turned into more—while we waited out many storms—I finally decided to go the long way and stay with Daisy in St. George.

{Jane loved not being the 'littlest' and bossed those babies around all day.}

Alice was delighted with the desert and equally delighted to play with her cousin Kate all day long. Jane worked through a fever and cough and we got to witness Daisy’s endurance as she trained much of the day for her upcoming Ironman triathlon.

We finally drove home through Las Vegas, the Mojave Desert, Bakersfield and across the central valley. It was beautiful. Green. The orchards were either laden and overloaded with oranges, picked clean, or in the case of the almond trees full of pink and white blossoms. On either side of the freeway, for three hundred miles it was a carpet of green patterned fields with shimmering white rows of soft blossoms. The falling blossoms were like snow on the ground—except it was sunny and warmish.

We were oh. so. happy. to pull into the driveway and see our yard, our swings, the barn, the orange tree, and our people. We had such a great adventure. Next time we’ll take the rest of the family.