An Ode to Sleep

Ah, sleep. I could write volumes on the many aspects of how it has affected my life.

I could discuss how I miss it, especially now having two kids with irregular sleeping habits. I don't think I have ever felt "caught up" on my sleep since I turned 12.
I remember how I used to have a Sunday nap ritual; snuggled in my bed, regardless of the season, and slumbering in my down comforter until Sunday dinner would wake me.

I love sleeping in Royal's arms, he's so comfy and I feel super protected.
Nowadays sleep is something that I plan into my day. Not just for myself, but for naptime (at least for Grant as Lucy has refused to nap anymore.) And oh the joy of having 2 kids asleep at the same time. I almost don't know what to do once it happens.

But the two items I wanted to share are these:
1) Lucy's Magical Adventures in Sleeping. This is my daughter. She is a wild sleeper.
When I was little my mom told me I curled into a ball like a kitten when I slept. This is NOT Lucy. She randomly flails about in her sleep like an epileptic octopus. She also migrates. It is common when we check on her to find her OUT of her bed. Once I found her wedged between the two sidebars that are 2 1/2 feet apart. She doesn't seem to be too affected by it as she can sleep through the movement and the relocation each night. What a sweetie.

2) Putting a baby to sleep. Have you ever noticed how rewarding it is to get a baby to sleep? That whole expression of "sleeping like a baby" is something I truly wish I could achieve.
When you have the ability to hold and rock a sweet little thing to sleep, and to see the peace in their face; its inspiring. It's as if they are saying, "I Trust You." I love to smell their little hair and kiss their soft foreheads and let them touch my cheek. I try to take a couple selfish holds and hugs from my sleeping babies, just to feel a bit of heaven. It will always be one of my favorite things of motherhood.

Becoming A Mother Bear

So, you've all heard those stories of epic aggression when someone or something steps between a mother bear and her cubs. It's commonly used when a mild mannered person changes into a fiercely protective being all for the sake of her beloved children. I have thought to myself: Would I have those instincts when it really mattered? Would I be fearless and tough, controllably irrational, and be able to call upon primal powers just to protect my little babies?
Well, my friends, that time came for me recently.
About this time of year the mice decide they would rather live indoors where we have a costly controlled heated environment rather than outside. We, on the other hand, are not so welcome to their invasion. And so it began with the traditional laying of the traps (oh, if at any time in this paragraph and beyond you say "oh, gross" then I feel have sufficiently represented my experience.) Royal was so great, he was very talented at spreading peanut butter and laying them delicately down for the fiendish little fellows. (Let's not talk about when Lucy curiously touched one, then accidentally stepped on another. Don't worry, she is tough and okay.)
I kind of forgot about them until one night when I opened the closet door to my nemesis. I saw him. I squealed. He twitched. Both from the response to my scream and also because his life was dwindling away. I knew he was stuck, I knew that he WASN'T dead, and I knew that I had to kill him. Oh, gross.

How should I do it? How could I do it? So there I was, trying to decide WHAT to do. After an encouraging call from Royal, I hung up and looked at him. Lucy was around the corner on the steps this whole time, wondering what the heck her mom was up to, but being oh, so patient. At first sight, I saw this cute little nose, and soft brown eyes.

But then, I remembered the mouse poop I had just cleaned out of the closet. I thought of the disease ridden feet that could have been running across the same floor that my sweet little Grantster is learning to crawl on. I thought of how I felt so violated at his existence into our home and that is when I became the Mother Bear.
I turned mean. I evoked some power I was never aware of. If I had been in a movie, there would have been a swirling of smoke behind me. I took that energy and allowed him to die in a cruel and gruesome manner which I will spare you all the details of. I just hope I can be forgiven for the life that I have taken.

After a trip to the dumpster, and a hug for my girl, I had this realization that I . . .did it. I saved my kids. Maybe not from immediate death, but definitely some sort of threat to their lives. Look at me, I'm the Mama Bear.

I Get to be the One

It's 5:45 AM. A small distant voice in the darkness says, "Mom?" I get up to comfort my darling little Lucy. I have found that being home has evoked an amazing awareness of the needs of my children.

When I was working, I felt like my relationship with Lucy was so objective-based. "We need to hurry and get dressed/ get dinner made/ get ready for bed/ clean up the house. . ." whatever else it was. It was so sad because I felt, especially when I was pregnant with Grant, that I was wasting the better part of me on the kids at school, and Lucy was left with the tired, impatient, and less tolerant version of me.



Consequently I found myself carrying a bit of that over when I was able to stay home with them. And that's when it hit me, "Is THIS how I want my children to remember me as a mother?" Am I fostering an atmosphere where they feel loved, not just taken care of? Important, not just visible? Understood, not just tolerated? My heart ached for the times that I rushed through things, rather than appreciated the moment that I had.

I hear the phrase, "Hold Me Please, Mama" at least 25 times a day from Lucy. Any mother knows it would not be realistic to pick up your child every time that they request it. But I have started to change what I am doing. I used to say that I will hold her after I finish these 5 dishes, but what happens is I rationalize and say, that I need to clean the counters, and then I need to wipe the table, but then I need to take out the garbage. . etc. And after a while, she is either clinging to my leg or has moved on to something else. This is very difficult for me. I am the kind of person that cannot relax if there is a sink of dirty dishes or my house is a mess.

I am really trying to change that. I have come to appreciate that I GET TO BE THE ONE she wants. If I don't enjoy the time with her now, I am going to miss out on it. I keep telling myself- she is only two years old, RIGHT NOW. She won't always want you to HOLD HER.


And so it is the same with Grant. He is such a sweet and content little baby. Because of that I find myself saying that he is fine scooting around the ground curiously looking at things, and I can get these things done. He is already 7 months, and I feel that they have gone by about 3 times faster than when Lucy reached that point. I don't want to miss anything because things were "content." I have immense gratitude for the opportunity I have had to stay home with them. But mostly, I feel grateful that I get to be the mom.



















I get to be the one to comfort them. I can make the hurt, the hunger, the fear go away.




Do I have any special skills for this? No, I just get to be there with them. I get to be the one who wakes up and walks mechanically to Grant's crib to feed him in the night. I get to be the one to hear silly songs and play Hide it and read books with. I get to be the one that gets drooled on and cried to and laughed with and everything in between. I get to be, so I find I want to be more. My heart just bursts when I think about how special and wonderful they are, and that they are mine.


I know that it will always be worth it, and I know, that I'm gonna miss it when it's gone. I just have to remember, I GET TO BE THE ONE for that voice in the dark.

Traditional Halloween Post

I know that not everybody cares what we dressed up as for Halloween, however, certain members of our family happened to fall ill during the Halloween season and did not get a chance to see how cute we all were, so here are some reasons why you should care:



1)Look how dang cute that pirate is. . . doesn't he make you WANT to give him your booty!










2) As per a previous post, you can see the tensile strength of Lucy's hair. This time however it is utilized for her costume.









3) I have no tooth. I mean, c'mon-that's pretty cool. By the way, it was really gone.







And of course, let's not forget. . .
4) Royal looks oh so hot in his Evel Knievil suit. Vrrooooom!

It's Autumn Time, the leaves are falling down

I love fall! We visited my parents in Logan and were able to enjoy the beautiful scenery of the Logan Canyon. I found my old camera from my photography class and though it was quite outdated (i.e. not digital) I took some pictures and scanned them in to share.
There is something so reminiscent about the smell of fallen leaves. It's musty and earthy, and makes me feel like I should be in boots and a turtleneck sweater, strolling somewhere by a lake. I have always loved the "crisp, but not too cold" ambiance that autumn provides. Perhaps it is the anticipation of the upcoming holidays, or just the feeling of the earth rolling back the covers for winter.
I just had to bring Lucy and Grant to the canyon where I gained an appreciation for this time of year. I have a lot of memories of hiking, climbing and campfires in these hills.
I hope that my children will grow to appreciate being outside and enjoying how beautiful this earth is. Especially when it is garnished with vibrant oranges, reds and yellows. It seems that I always want to take family pictures when there is a backdrop of fall trees to spice it up. I am grateful to be in an area that allows me to enjoy it every year!