BikeGlow Discount For You!

Have you ever heard of BikeGlow?  Have you ever almost hit someone on a bike with your car?  Has your child been run over by a car while riding his bike?  Have you ever worried about your child being hit by a car in the dark while he's riding his bike?

If you answered "YES!" to any of these questions, then you need to visit Organic Enchilada today and find out how you can prevent your child from being smooshed into the pavement because they were riding their bike in the dark.  There's a 25% off coupon code for your very own BikeGlow Safety Light!  Yey!  Now go check it out!

(And is it weird that I can't help but wonder what else you could put one of those lights on?  It's not like there's a rule that says you have to put it on a bike, or even use it outdoors.  I'm thinking I might buy one for my dad to add to "Grandpa's Fun Drawer".  Ahem.)

My Boys

On Mother's Day I didn't feel much like sitting at the table with my guys while we ate dinner.  (My legs were sore from having tubes shoved up my veins.)  So I laid on the couch and watched them eat.  That's the scene above there.  

I love those five guys.

I love that Drew eats sauerkraut like it was a dare.

I love that Ethan is so laid back.  

I love that Cameron always tries to lighten the mood if anyone's having an off day.  (Even if it comes back to slap him in the face sometimes.)

I love that Trent doesn't care about anything but having fun.

I love that Andrew is so smitten with his kids.

And I loved that they all decided that plates were an extravagance that they didn't need in order to eat their hot dogs.  After all, the table is like one big, community plate.  Right?

Mrs. Beutler, You Are Divine.

Last summer, a lovely lady wrote a blog post about one of her special places.  It made me swoon, and I was instantly in love with this woman.  In a kindred spirit kind of way.  Today, I finally got to visit this special place of hers, and it instantly became one of mine, too. 

I have a thing for cemeteries and prisons.  I'm strange like that.  But not just any cemetery.  I like a cemetery with intrigue and character.  One that whispers secrets in a strange tongue with each breeze that rushes by.  One with an air that steals the cares of this world from your mind as you inhale the memory of people gone before.  One that sounds like reverent life and emptiness at the same time.

I decided that if I could live in Park City, (preferably in this house, which happens to be for sale),

I would go to Glenwood every day to read.  To think about spring flowers.  To remember my grandmother.  To be still and calm.  

But for now, I suppose I'll just have to find another cemetery closer, and save this one for special occasions.  Maybe one day, I'll find Crystal there!

One, Two, Three, Four!

Today I got my first taste of one of my favorite parts of summer. Our town's high school marching band.



The band practices for the parades they do during the summer, and they march past my house at about nine-thirty in the morning every four days or so. I guess they have to shake up their route so they don't annoy the crotchety people who find the drums disturbing. If I had it my way, they would march past my house EVERY morning, because there is just nothing like starting your day with a rockin' version of Chicago's Saturday In The Park.

Gets my blood movin' and my feet groovin'.

Marching Bands - quintessential summer.

*Edit - They came again today! Yey! We got Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog. I love this band, they are so cool.*

A Very Young 89

Grandpa's 89th Birthday

Next year will be quite the bash!

S. E. #11 - Happy Comes From...

Self Exploration is a weekly post where I pose a question that is meant to make you look at yourself more deeply or in a new light. Your job is to leave a comment in response to the question. You may always do so anonymously if that gives you more liberty to be honest. You may also post your answer on your own blog, but leave a link to it in the comments here so I can go take a look! Now your assignment for this week:

Tell me five little things that make you happy!

Here are five of my favorite things:


I Love the corner pieces in a pan of brownies. Corners are the best.

I love Dr. Pepper. Morning, noon, and night.

Trent loves it, too.

I love peeking in on my kids after they've gone to sleep. They look so sweet and innocent when they're sleeping. Of course, they aren't. So it's good to go in when they're knocked out so I can try to convince myself that they are worth keeping.

I love watching weird movies with Andrew. Such as Little Miss Sunshine. It was awesome.

I love my collection of candles. I can always find one to suit my mood, and they're great for masking the smell of the turd that someone has in their pants.

Your turn!

Steamed Over Something I Can't Change. Again.

Every time I see a wedding decorated with paper lanterns I get my knickers in a twist.  Paper lanterns were all I wanted at my wedding nearly ten years ago, but we could not find any on the internet or in any store in Utah or Colorado.  When my mother or I would call somewhere and ask about them no one even knew what we were talking about.  And now they are everywhere.  I guess it's just the burden of being so stylishly ahead of my time.  Now excuse me while I go take off my Cabela's hoodie that boasts a hole in the armpit and go to bed.

*image found here

A FEW GOOD FINDS

The other day I ordered this shirt:



which is found here, and on sale no less! I am anxiously awaiting it in the mail.

And then I printed out some of these:



FOR FREE! and I love them. The template can be downloaded here.

Saving Me $25 a Week

How long has it been since I've done a gratitude post? I don't remember, either. So I better get at it.

Andrew and I have lived in quite a few places since we've been married, and, for some reason, a fair number of them have been without a dishwasher. I am not a fan of hand washing dishes so the first time we had to get along without one I paid Andrew $25 a week to do the dishes. My folly came in the lack of terms. I never specified when the dishes had to be done in order for him to get his cash. So he waited until there were no clean dishes and came home to find Cameron and I eating Taco Bell for lunch because it required no plates or forks.

Now, we all are perfectly aware that Andrew could have just taken $25 without even having to run it by me, and what could I do, right? But that $25 came without nagging. So if he wanted to go spend it all on fishing lures, I was not allowed to complain. And that's pretty much what he did.

Tonight I am exhausted from a long day of cleaning, (which is very dissatisfying because already you can't really tell that I did anything), and I just find myself very grateful that I have a dishwasher, because at least there are no dirty dishes in the kitchen.

Now the laundry is another issue...

IT STARTED WITH CHAIRS

Yesterday I bought 4 chairs at D.I. for $8 each. They are made entirely of wood. I was thrilled because it meant no more chili or yogurt squished into wicker seats. I can just wipe them down, and we're good.

Little did I know that the joy would extend beyond clean seats.

Four additional kitchen chairs meant enough seating for the entire family to pop the leaf in the table and sit together to have dinner.

Which led to a peaceful dialogue and time together.

Which prompted enlisting of help with the dishes.

Which led to a clean kitchen that will allow for a fresh start in the morning.

And because the kitchen was whipped into shape in no time, I had a few minutes to read a bedtime story to Trent while the older boys played air hockey with Dad.

Which meant half an hour without the TV on.

Which led to contentment.

Which led to me not freak out over chaos and filth and time shortages.

Which led to a happy family.

Love those $8 chairs.

Loving

Hot Chocolate

Giving Myself a Break Until Afternoon

Pizza

Has anyone else tasted the new Domino's pizza?

I'm not saying that it's gourmet or anything, but there isn't much that could keep me from licking my fingers after finishing a slice of that stuff. And who knows where my hands have been?

Loving...

glee

cool parents

self-imposed censorship

strawberry cupcakes with cream cheese frosting

family walks

movie night

dried fruit

brillo pads

A Constant Blessing

Two nights ago, my dad stopped by to plow the snow from my really long driveway with his snow-blower. I was grateful because after two days of shoveling it, my back was pretty tired. Up and down the driveway he went, and even did the turn-around. I met him at the end of the driveway to help him lift the blower back into his truck bed, but he looked at me and asked, "Which way do the boys walk to school?" I pointed down the sidewalk to the south, and he cleared the sidewalks that hadn't been shoveled so that my boys would have a warmer, easier walk to and from school.

When he was done, I helped him load it up, and then hugged him good-bye. I came inside and cried, because I have the most wonderful father imaginable, and lately there has been more than one reason to worry that I'd lose him. It's all those little things, like blowing snow from a sidewalk for my kids, that remind me how blessed I am to be his daughter. And I'm afraid to be without him. My world would stop.

On Saturday, we were all at the tree lot together, and Drew had cold hands. My dad picked him up and put his own gloves on Drew. Drew left them on, which was great, because he won't leave his own mittens on for any longer than it takes to pull them off. My dad then carried Drew around, looking at trees, and after a while, he turned to me and said, "Don't you ever take these kids away from me." I wouldn't dream of it. Ethan told me tonight that his favorite part of Christmas is going to Nana's house. I am so glad that we live close to at least some of their grandparents.

And to my dad, I would say, it goes both ways. Don't you ever leave us here without you.

It's a Love-Hate: Love wins today.

I was looking through the biography section of my town's tiny library this afternoon, (alone!, because Andrew was home with the sleeping kiddies), and as I pulled a book off of a shelf, the clock tower in front of the library made it's hourly dong noise and chimed one o'clock, and then it began to play Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas with cheery bells chiming, and I fell in love with Kaysville. Sure, there are parts so snobby that if you cross the tracks into West Kaysville driving anything less than an Escalade, you'll be looked down upon so severely that you'll shrink two feet and never gain it back. But here in the old part, where we aren't embarrassed to be seen at the two dollar theater or send our kids to school in pants that fit them last week but this week make them look like members of a 1950's do-op band, it's comfortable and charming and in some cases nostalgic. There are adoptable grandparents living in every other house on my street, my neighbor two doors down scraps my sidewalk with his snow-blower whenever there's a storm, and Drew calls the white-bearded man in a bowler hat next-door, "Bum-pa". Chickens roam my backyard almost daily, the elderly couple who's backyard boarders ours actually enjoy our children when they play on the swing-set and yell at each other for hitting each other's balls, *a-hem*, and I am three short blocks from the annual Fourth of July Parade, carnival and fireworks display. Yep, if Kaysville weren't in Utah, I could live here forever.

Not that I'm completely anti-Utah. But that's an entire story in itself.

Lovin' My Monday

I love nothing more than Mondays. Andrew has been working Saturdays for about three years now...I think...so Sundays and Mondays are the days we get to spend with him. Now don't get me wrong, I love a lazy Sunday evening with family walks, playing games with the kids and naps while Andrew watches football, but Mondays are family days AND productive days. We got a lot done today.

Andrew is currently out mowing the lawn, (and the snow, if you must know), because it needed one more trim before the winter and also because we're too impatient to rake leaves a hundred times in the fall. We just wait until they all drop and then mow them up, and dump them in the trash. Call us lazy - we don't care. But if you want to feel like you're getting nowhere in life, go outside in early October and rake up all your leaves and then go inside and look out your window an hour later. You'll never have those two hours back. Wasted.

So, while the garage did not make it onto the "completed" side of the to-do list today, a couple of other things did. None of which were the dishes from last night. (Am I painting a pretty good picture of our home right now?)

It is cold, but sunny and gorgeous outside right now. The sunset tonight is going to rock.

My kids are playing outside - laughing, screaming, wearing themselves out.

I ate a Snickers bar that only cost fifty cents.

I haven't felt the need to use a swear word all day.

And finally, because I am a female mother of four living on a budget in the holiday season during a recession, I have to brag about the best part of my day. I got a fifty dollar coat for Ethan at Kohl's for $4.52. Boo-yah! Kohl's is my new best friend. Until Andrew finishes the leaf/mowing project in the backyard, and then he will reclaim his spot at the top.

I love today!

A Long Walk and a Cold Sweat

Every afternoon at 12:45 I head out the door for a walk with the three little guys. I love this time of day because we all get some fresh air and no one talks, (or cries, or whines), for twenty minutes. Trent, Drew and Bryan are all completely silent for most of the walk, excepting the times that we happen upon a tractor or a snail or a particularly loud dog. They just take it all in.



During today's walk, I decided that I love my neighborhood. We could probably never afford to buy a house here because of the city that it's in, but living here, owners or not, is pretty nice. I love that the houses are old. There's a house or two on every block that has been built in the last ten years, but I think that those houses are an eye sore in this kind of neighborhood. They look just like all the other houses that are mass produced in every other city all over the state. I'm a sucker for personality.

I also decided that I love the sidewalks. They are mostly old and cracked and raised up by the roots of hundred-year-old trees. I love that they move to make room for beauty to grow. Yeah, it's hard to push a stroller or pull a wagon loaded with three tubby kids over those kinds of sidewalks, but the trees provide a lovely canopy of shade in the summer and an enchanting shower of golden leaves in the fall.



And though I adore walking in these crisp autumn afternoons with three pacified toddlers, I have to say that this hill can be a bugger. I don't know if you can tell by the photo, but the hill is very deceptive. It may not seem all too steep, but the thing goes on forever. We live at the base of the Wasatch Mountains, so walking in any direction means meeting a hill like this either to or fro. So how sweaty am I after climbing it with the kids in tow? Let's just say that I'm peeling the layers of clothing off so I can shower while the little beasts nap.

A Letter From My Mother

It was a year or two ago that my mother sent the following letter. I found it in my desk drawer today, and, while it is nothing profound or remarkable, I simply felt again what a gift she is to me.

To my daughter, Bethany -

I'm writing to all four of my children to tell you something of importance to me. I've been thinking about my family relationships lately. I've also been watching how other families interact. I've come to the conclusion that I am very blessed. Not only do I have a wonderful husband, but I have the greatest kids a mother could ask for!
Bethany, I want to thank you for always treating me with respect and with love. I never have to worry about where I stand with you - I know that with you I will always find an abundance of kindness. I thank you for that. You bring me joy.
One more thing I want you to know...it seems to me in our family we express "I love you" frequently. Sometimes on the phone, in cards or in person. Just because we say it often I don't want you to hear it lightly from me. Please know that I love you deeply, with all my heart! And I always will.

xoxoxox
Thank you,
Mom

I reverence my relationship with my mother. She is precious to me.

A New Beginning

My grandmother, Helen McClurg, passed away in April of 2007. She was a tiny woman who's strength far exceeded her stature. She could be both spunky or meek, gentle or feisty. Whatever was called for, that was Grandma. Always the picture of dignity and class.



There are definite things that will always remind me of Grandma. There was a drawer in her kitchen which was always stocked with cookies, and it was lovingly placed at a child's height so that we were able to see the entire glory of it's contents. Grasshopper cookies, Pecan Sandies and some kind of cookie that was covered in powdered sugar, which I don't remember the name of were the staple contents of that drawer. There were probably a lot of reasons that Grandma didn't bake homemade cookies. Perhaps she was too busy baking her pies, or perhaps she stocked the store bought kind because she didn't want to be caught without cookies anytime her grandchildren stopped by. More likely, she never had time for cookies because she and Grandpa were always on the road, traveling from Oregon to Jackson Hole to California to Arches and back again.

Grandma would often burst into a sprightly dance and sometimes sing as well. She would suddenly throw her arms above her head, lightly hop upon her toes, twirl in a circle, and then crumble into her delicate giggles, delighted, as we all were, at her own silliness. Grandma knew how to have fun. She even sometimes did things just because other people didn't believe she would.



Grandma knew the name of every plant and flower that ever grew on this earth. She and Grandpa where there when I hiked through Arches National Park as a young child and learned that I was "as natural a climber as a mountain goat". She was there with us to search for Christmas trees and to share our Thanksgiving turkey. She flattered me by asking my opinion on which shoes or jewelry went best with her outfit. She always sent birthday cards with sparkly glitter on them.



It was all of these memories that occupied my mind as I watched her laying in her bed at the rest home, preparing to return to her Heavenly Father. She had been in the home for years, and her suffering for so long seemed cruel at times. Why couldn't she just go home? Maybe she needed to endure. Maybe her grandchildren needed to learn about true Christlike love as we watched our grandfather care for her and dote on her for all that time.

On the April day when we all knew that her journey was about to conclude, I think that none of us were ready for her to go. We wanted her to be free from the confines of her mortal body, free from the suffering of age and the wear of life. And yet, it was hard. We loved her and would miss her, and we have.

On that day, my husband and children and I were able to arrive to be with her before most of the rest of the family. Grandpa was beside himself with the thought of being without his Sweetheart, but he showed only dignity and gratitude and love. He had planned to go before her, had never wanted to be where he was. He asked my good husband to give Grandma a priesthood blessing, which humbled Andrew. Grandpa McClurg is the only Grandfather that Andrew has ever known, and his adoration for that man is precious to me. Andrew complied with Grandpa's request, and as he and another man prepared to anoint sweet Grandma, a kind nurse took my 2 small boys out into the hallway and closed the door so that we could be free to focus on our loved one. Andrew began the blessing and told Grandma how blessed her posterity was for having had her in their lives. Told her that she was leaving a legacy to be proud of, that she was loved, and that she should feel confident that all would be well whenever she was ready to leave. As Andrew spoke these words of love and comfort, the nurse in the hallway began to lead my boys in a tender song that they were familiar with. She didn't know that we could hear them through the door, and with the voices of watchful angels, my boys sang:

I am a child of God, and He has sent me here,
Has given me and Earthly home, with parents kind and dear.
Lead me, Guide me, Walk beside me, help me find the way,
Teach me all that I must do to live with Him someday.

Tears flowed freely down my cheeks, and I was simply thankful to be there to feel how much love was in that room with the woman that I had loved and respected all my life.

Grandpa has been lonely since then. He has many visitors, but children and grandchildren are poor substitutes for a life companion. As my Grandma Kay once told me, "It's nice to be the most important person in someone's life."

My grandfather has found that companionship again with a woman he will be marrying in five weeks. Joyce. My 88 year old grandfather is getting married. I am still trying to wrap my mind around it, but once the idea settles in, it will be great! I would wish for nothing more than happiness for my grandfather, and because he's found it, I will rejoice with him on November 6th. I know he's struggling with feelings of betrayal and I'm sure that's a normal thing. I know that my grandmother loves him enough to want him to be happy, and would give her blessing if she could.

It will be a new chapter for Grandpa in a book that he probably thought had no more plot twists. As long as he gets a happy ending, that is all that matters.

It was a good, good day.

Until last Friday, I thought that the thing I loved best about my oldest two sons was that nine times out of ten, they are able to urinate into the toilet without getting so much as a drop on the floor.  A close second to that would be their solid grasp of sarcasm, without which, most of our conversations would end in confused looks or hurt feelings.


On Friday, I drove, (hallelujah), to pick up the boys from school so we could go pick out snacks to take to the ball game that night in Salt Lake.  I asked them how their days were, and boy, was I a proud Mama when they told me.  


Ethan had used all his Bull Dog Coins* at the Bull Dog Store to purchase me a necklace.  He handed me that red-beaded Mardi Gras necklace with a radient smile plastered on his cute, little mug, and I wore it all day with as much pleasure as if it had been a string of genuine pearls.  Ethan also told me that there was a little boy at recess who had no one to play with because his legs don't work very well, and that he had asked that boy if he would like to play with him, and together they played tag, until the "outside duty" came and told them that tag was not allowed.  (Seriously?  No swings, no tag...what's next?  And I know it sounds odd for Ethan to ask the boy who's legs don't work well to play tag with him, but it's the thought that counts.  I hope the recess aid caught them quickly, or that poor boy might have spent his entire recess hopefully chasing my 6-year-old all over the playground and never gotten close to catching him.)  


Cameron beamed when he got in the van and told me that he had passed his math facts and moved onto subtraction.  I was just as proud as he was, because the kids have 2 minutes to get all 36 addition facts correct, and, as of a week ago, Cameron was taking 2 minutes and thirty seconds to pass all 36.  On Friday, he got them all right in one minute, thirty-two seconds.  He has worked his tail off to complete that, and now he is one of very few in his class that has moved on to the next level.  I am extra pleased with his success, because I went to his class and tested 8 kids, and only one of them passed, while the others were struggling to get 15 correct in the two minute period.  I'm not saying he's better than the others, I'm just very happy that he doesn't have to struggle with math while he's having to struggle with reading.  It was a painfully happy moment to find that he had passed, and his confidence is taking off!  He then told me that he had played four-square with 6 other kids at recess, and I almost cried.  Every day I ask Cameron who he played with at recess, and his answer is always the same:  "I mostly played by myself."  That is agony to a mother.  So to hear that he had been involved in a game with his classmates was the best news I could have gotten that day.


Today, I am a very proud mother, indeed.  And it has nothing to do with bathroom cleanliness.

*Bulldog coins are pieces of paper they earn in Ethan's class to be spent every other Friday in their classroom store, where they can choose from an array of trinkets and prizes.