We got a notice this past week that Ben and Sophie came up in the lottery for Legacy Preparatory Academy – a charter school that uses a classical education foundation based on the Well Trained Mind, complete with Latin, etc., and it’s FREE! Yay!
BUT, we sure have loved CapitolHillAcademy and it has been perfect for Ben, so it’s hard to mess with something that is working, even though it costs money. At the same time, we’re trying to cut back on the money thing, so it needs to be a matter of prayer. Still, I told them to keep us enrolled and had to take the kids for testing over at the new school. Ben will be going into 5th grade and just finished Saxon 5/4 last year--he tested into 7/6! That means he just skipped a whole year of math in one test! He also tested firmly into 6th grade level for everything else. Sophie also tested at the top of where she would be expected to be, with reading and math at about a 3rd grade level. With Saxon Math, many schools, including this one, want to have the kids doing one year ahead (grumpy homeschoolers say that Saxon sold out and was trying to dumb down the program for public schools), so the second graders at LPA do Saxon 3 anyway.
So, I was proud of them. I’m always happily surprised when things point to the fact my kids are turning out, because heaven knows I do very little to bring that about.
David’s out of town working in GA and FL. I’m taking the kids camping with my mom up at Tony Grove. So, I think I’ll bail out on work now and go.
My quote for the day from today’s NYT:
“Napping, writes James B. Maas, a Cornell University sleep expert, ‘should have the status of daily exercise.’
“Mammals that divide their day between two distinct periods — sleep and wakefulness — are in the minority, according to the National Sleep Foundation, which pointed out on its Web site: ‘While naps do not necessarily make up for inadequate or poor quality nighttime sleep, a short nap of 20-30 minutes can help to improve mood, alertness and performance.’”
Hooray naps! May I get one someday!
I’m finally recovering from the big weekend last weekend and starting to feel normal and not so wiped out. I did do the gym three days this week and was made to feel like a slacker by the diehards I work with. Well, time to start training again. This time I’ll be sensible and do a sprint tri. I’m trying to eat by asking myself “Does my inner triathlete need this for fuel? If not, we don’t need to eat it.” But, my eating does not come from a lack of knowledge, up-to-date scientific information or good gimmicks to keep myself on track. I have yet to really understand where it comes from. So when I asked myself today, “Does my inner athlete need these Cheetos for fuel?” I thought, “No, she needs them because they are yummy and full of MSG.”
The chasm between knowledge and action is so, so wide. All I can do anymore is try to bridge it with heavy duty exercise.
Thanks also to you all for your sweet, supportive comments.
Here is also evidence that I have surrendered all dignity, self-consciousness and natural shame in the name of the TRI.
I have mentioned before that I have not lost an ounce training. I did lose three pounds from the event itself, although it is likely water. This could be that my body refuses to give up any of it’s precious storage under any circumstances and will even allow me to go brain dead before it will release any stored calorie (yep, it’s pretty much happened). Or, it could be that I only started seriously reigning in my eating a week or so ago. Probably a combination of both.
So, here is the cold, hard reality in photo form. Even as a triathlete who trains 6+ hours a week, I have a very long way to go to feel good about being around cameras. But I’m not going to let this bum out my high—because apparently with this, as in so many other areas of my life, the only way is the hard way. And I chose the tri over the lap band because I wanted to really earn it, so I need to consider these my “before” pictures.
Since I don’t know what order they’ll come in to this (I’m email posting), I’ll just list what I’m attaching: Me setting up my bike at transition 1 (T1), me in a wetsuit that David said makes me look like a claymation doll (thanks, dear) complete with neon orange race cap, me with coworker and fellow tri-virgin Gary in wetsuits, our wave (7) at the start of the swim, Steve and Jesse, my caretakers, mentors and also coworkers, and me at the end of the “run” with both of them.
There were all sorts of adventures, mishaps, comical goings-on and plenty of peak experiences. I’m working on my race report which will have everything in excruciating detail. But the basic thing to report is that I was prepared. I met my goal of finishing in under four hours and not last (that’s walking the run and with a tire blowout).
Yes, I am rather achy today in pretty much every muscle, but hey, it was a four hour workout—even the veterans I went with tell me it takes a week to recover. Still, we’ll all be back at swim class on Tuesday. I think I’m hooked! Yay triathlon! Long live the Athena!*
*Athena is a very cool sounding name for a 150+ lb female competitor
My commitment to write each Sunday has not been even remotely kept. Outside of work, my computer time is less, I think, than it has ever been in my life, and I sense myself avoiding it. If you are one of the many people who has invited me to join Facebook or some other social computer thing, please don’t take it personally, I just can’t do it right now without neglecting things and people that need attention.
The kids seem to be having a really fun summer, and I have felt like I’ve had a little more time to just hang out with them and relax. David and I had a supremely WONDERFUL trip last weekend (thanks SO much to my mom, who watched the kids and cleaned the house from top to bottom, and to pa/ma-in-law who helped us extend our trip). We went up for David’s brother’s wedding in the Tillamook forest near Portland, OR. I was asked to sing a LeeAnn Rimes song while Nikki walked down the aisle, which was a new genre for me, so that was fun. My coworker here is from the area, and told us to check out the Tillamook Creamery and try their ice cream, which we ended up doing twice—so yummy!
In the middle of the trip we decided that since we were so close, we’d take an extra two days and drive down the coast, see the Redwood forest and cut back home across scenic highways in Northern California. We drove 5-8 hours most days from Thursday through Tuesday. But, the drives and days were filled with gorgeousness and awe-inspiring grandeur. I spent much time in the car on David’s iPhone surfing the net, trying to figure out how geological formations were formed, figuring out volcanoes, the history of these huge trees, etc. The first stop we took in the Redwood forest was for a short walk, a .75 mile loop through a huge, silent forest. The ground was soft from the composting redwood needles. It smelled amazing. The morning light could barely get down where we were. We stood looking up into the bottoms of huge fallen trees, with this huge explosion of an enormous mass of roots radiating out from the center. I kept feeling like I had to touch the trees. I even took of my shoes for a moment to feel the soft ground on the trail.
Although there have been some exceptions, I have had a very crappy five months since my surgery, and really needed the rejuvenation this trip gave me. By the time of this trip, I had been on my new, custom compound of three different bioidentical hormones plus two other recommended supplements (DHEA and adrenal support) for about a week, and was, for the first time, feeling relatively stable and normal and sane. Take away all of the major stresses in my life and put me with my husband, who, when all of his major stresses in life are taken away, also changes back into my best friend instead of my stress/exhaustion fueled sparring partner—and all of a sudden, we were in heaven. We laughed so much, and got real sleep, and listened to music, and saw gorgeous stuff. Although my daily walks/hiking didn’t even begin to make up for all the junk food, a road trip really does appear to be the panacea for all that ails you.
I’ll attach a pic. I’m the one on the left.
So, we came home, and, long story short, it took 15 minutes and a trip to the mailbox after getting home to have me back in tears, 24 hours to have me depressed, 48 hours to be resentful toward God and starting to bicker with David and 72 hours to become solemnly broken hearted and resigned. For good or bad, now I knew that what remains of my stress and difficulty is not related to moods, hysterectomies or hormones, but my actual life—bills, job/career stress, personal failings, the difficulty of raising kids without being present enough, the difficulty of managing a marriage when both parties are supremely stressed out, the long-term financial outlook, life management in general. The past two days David and I have been very consciously trying to be happy and grateful and hopeful, which has helped a bit, but it is sometimes just comical how life comes together to thwart the most well-intentioned efforts.
But, the kids are cute and good and I’m planning for them to go to a wonderful school in the fall and making some adjustments to be with them more. The Gospel has been a major rock in my life, and even though I yell at God too much, I know He loves me.
I got up at 4:45 a.m. today to try out my rented tri wetsuit in open water by swimming up at East Canyon Reservoir with three of my coworkers. This tri training has also been helpful as a stress reliever, but not so much today. The transition to open water was more difficult than I expected and although the guys all told me I’d panic, I didn’t believe them, and then in my typical delayed-emotional-response manner, I didn’t acknowledge that I was panicking until it was almost over—I was just confused why I couldn’t catch my breath, needed so many more breath strokes and had to flip to backstroke every now and then just to get air. And my chest felt tight, so I finally realized either I was having a heart attack (very possible) or panicking (more likely). But, I did it and got to work by 8:15.
On Saturday I walked a 10K just to see if I felt like I was up to trying it this coming Saturday. I know I can do the 25-mile bike, since I do the 15 miles 1-2x a week and also the Tour de Cure was 25 and I felt fine with that. And, although I only swam a half mile this morning, I’m used to swimming a mile in practice, so, with the help of the current in the Snake River on Saturday, I think I just need to put the pieces together and will be fine. But after this, I’m looking forward to just doing Sprint Tris for a good long while. I realize it is insane to start with an Olympic distance, but this work thing really helped me get toward this goal, and Spudman is just what is done here.
Hm, I really meant for this to be just a short update. In fact, I read this article on the NY Times and found it complicated and interesting and thought I’d quickly post it to my blog. We don’t like war, but we do like schools, we don’t like religious extremism, but I personally like religion, but most people don’t so much anymore, which leads to a push for secularization, which in this case is important to help empower women, which we all like, but it also puts forward secular ideas like having less kids, etc., and secularization can sometimes be a slippery slope to another set of problems. But for heaven’s sake you don’t want the Taliban’s view of women being strengthened, so we fight them and put up secular schools, but we don’t like war . . .
I really would like to catch up on the family journal and still hope to soon. We are enjoying our summer and things are busy as usual. I finally (two months late) put 10 hours on Friday and Saturday into the neglected, overgrown vacant lot we once called garden and now it is lovely and hopefully will still grow, even though I had a late start.
I’ve learned that a hysterectomy is a very life-changing thing. It has entirely changed me in so many ways, and it has been a little scary. It turns out I was completely low on every major hormone and was at the levels of a woman in her 60s. All the side effects that go with that—muscle/joint pain, exhaustion, depression, apathy, mental fog—well, that has pretty much just been my life, thus no blogging. But just yesterday I finally started on a bio-identical hormone compound cream that hopefully will restore me to my 37-year-old youth.
Triathlon training has been difficult under these circumstances, but I’ve persevered as best I could—riding to work 1-2x a week and swimming a mile 1-2x a week, walking 1-2 miles 3-4x a week. That is fine for training for a sprint tri, and I’m doing an Olympic in two weeks, but that’s just what I can do. Since I don’t have a runner again, I’ve decided to just swim and bike and walk if I feel like it. If I happen to meander over the finish line before midnight—hey, I’m a triathlete. If not, I’ll just do a sprint tri in August.
And, since I’ve been using all the workout time and bus time to listen to the scriptures on the iPod, hopefully I’ll become a scriptorian, too. I finished our Relief Society’s Book of Mormon 60-day challenge and am now more than half way through the D&C. What is completely remarkable is that all of these books speak with the same voice—the same voice also in the New Testament and much of the Old, the same voice I hear in the temple, and the same voice that answers my prayers. There is no way such a comprehensive, consistent body of work can come from anyone but God, and it has been a real blessing to me in these hard past few months. Together it has been a humbling experience.
The kids are great and I’m enjoying them. Not a lot of major events to report there, but I’ll try to post all the pictures I’ve been stockpiling soon.
We had a talk in Stake Conference quoting Bednar's recent CES address about how spending too much time in the virtual world gives us over to the adversary's attempt to cause us to revert back to our non-corporeal existence and deny ourselves the blessings of temporal life. This is a very powerful talk and I very highly recommend it.
“If the adversary cannot entice us to misuse our physical bodies, then one of his most potent tactics is to beguile you and me as embodied spirits to disconnect gradually and physically from things as they really are. In essence, he encourages us to think and act as if we were in our premortal, unembodied state. And, if we let him, he can cunningly employ some aspects of modern technology to accomplish his purposes. Please be careful of becoming so immersed and engrossed in pixels, texting, ear buds, twittering, online social networking, and potentially addictive uses of media and the Internet that you fail to recognize the importance of your physical body and miss the richness of person-to-person communication. Beware of digital displays and data in many forms of computer-mediated interaction that can displace the full range of physical capacity and experience.”
I do appreciate the outlet that a blog offers, and journaling is important, but I do feel that my life is richer the less I’m on the computer. This talk was very insightful for me.
As always, I’ll try to post more for you, my beloved friends and family, especially the pictures, as soon as I can.
I’m having a relaxing week as the single working mother of two young children—I’m not being sarcastic, it really is relaxing compared to my normal life of two parents, three jobs and four children. Guess where my eldest children and spouse are right now? So, SO jealous.
We’re doing fine. And you probably understand that FINE is an acronym for a phrase that includes an expletive. Just plugging away . . .
That's what I've learned about myself in the past several months. Really, I don't HATE exercise, but it is just so different to be working toward a goal. Or, at least a goal that is not, "I hope I stay on this machine long enough to not be such a gross slob one day." Somehow, that doesn't really count as motivation.
Also, for someone like me, who thinks nothing but ugly and demeaning thoughts about myself all day (and has done so for the past 30ish years), something about the phrase, "I did it!" just melts away some of that yuckiness and makes me feel--what is that feeling?--happy? Wow, so that's what it feels like.
So, Tour de Cure was on Saturday and it was my first real sporting event ever. I felt that happy, "I did it!" feeling when I first rode to work (turned out to be 18.2 miles in my attempt to avoid traffic), and the next time when I just took the main road and did it in 15 (took 1 hr, 40 min, though). I felt it this morning when I rode to work in only an hour and fifteen minutes (thanks in great part to the new slick tires my coworker Jesse lent me for TdC through Spudman). But, I got to feel that "I did it!" feeling at a real sporting event, crossing a real finish line, and I had a smile on my face I couldn't take off. I looked at the sky that miraculously had blue in it (despite days of threatening clouds and showers) and listened to the live music and wandered over to the free massage tables exploring this strange new feeling of spontaneous happiness. I hate to admit it, but most of my happiness is cerebral, wherein my brain explains to me, "Good things are happening, you are to feel happy now." But this was very, very different.
It was a beautiful day, with a ride through rural Northern Utah, cloudy skies with occassional drizzle, and occassional sunny blue. As always, the saddlesoreness was worst the first 5 miles, but then I guess it goes numb or something and gets better. I biked the first half on my own out to the halfway rest station, and there met up with a few of my team. There were a couple of people from the company there only to take pictures and film us, so I'll hopefully post pictures soon.
Cris, another writer who works right here in my dept., rode with me on the way back, and the chatting made such a difference I'm sure, because I never really once thought, "Are we there yet?" Cris and I got back to the park, crossed the finish line and I honestly felt like I could keep going. Still, thanks to that saddle issue, I really never want to do more than a 25, even though the guys insist I should do the 60 next year. It just doesn't even appeal to me, let alone the century (100 miles). Maybe next year I would consider the Little Red Riding Hood ride for breast cancer, that's 40 miles, but there is a chocolate fountain, virgin mai tais and more massage tables at the end of that one.
Anyway, as Cris and I waited for our massages I asked him, "Where is everyone?" And he said, "They're not here yet--we're first." I was just shocked. Not only did I do it, feel fine, felt like I could keep going, I got there before the rest of my team! Needless to say, my inner child basked in an onslaught of rare friendly words from my typically abusive brain.
At church yesterday one of the youth speakers talked about physical fitness, and how essential it is to our spiritual and emotional health. He talked about how important oxygen is to our mind, and how physical exertion oxygenates our mind to give us the strength to be spiritually and emotionally strong. I gave him a big AMEN. I have noticed that almost like clockwork, I start feeling down on about the fourth day after not exercising (training)--as apparently mild depression is my natural state.
This same boy read a quote from a psychiatrist that said that he had never once treated in his practice a patient who regularly participated in exercise that worked major muscle groups. When I'm out from under that mental cloud, I feel like I really could accomplish the things I always meant to do in my life, from being a nice mom to pursuing my creative interests. I've found my panacea--my magic pill--it's just that, unlike every promise out there for things like this, it's not easy. Instead, it's the hardness that makes it work.
It's the same as that happiness study I mentioned--somehow it really is the hardness that makes us ultimately happy--or at least the most fulfilled.
I have pictures from Lucy's birthday and other things to share, but it will have to wait. Here's to training! And, now that my runner has had to drop out of the Spudman, here's to training to do a 10K in 6 weeks (along with my mile swim and 25 mile ride)! And, here's to Wade who did a sprint tri at the Utah games in his best time ever, 1:34! You the man!
Just checking in to let you know I made it to work today in one piece—just in case you were worried. It was probably more than 15 miles, because I chose to avoid traffic over finding the shortest route (and did so very successfully!) It was fun, a bit of an adventure, and my legs feel a little funny now, so I beat on them periodically. I left at 6:40 and got here at 8:20, and I generally average 12 MPH, so I was a bit slow apparently, although I still think all the windy bike trails added to my total mileage. No gym for me today—I got here too late. At 3ish I’ll bike the 5 miles over into downtown and pickup the van to go home to the kids.
I think of it this way—why buy fuel to get myself to work when I have plenty already stored on my body that I can use for free? ;)
Yesterday, with the help of Paw-in-law and David's brother Danny and his wife Jessica and a wonderful chicken plucker loaned by a sweet chicken farmer in Sandy, we harvested 21 fryers/roasters, all weighing in at about 5-7 pounds dressed weight (after cleaning). It started out rather poorly, with a lot of "is this worth it?" thoughts.
David was being too careful IMO about the killing part and I kept reiterating how the lady I got the plucker from just took a large serrated bread knife and had them upside down (by rope, we used a killing cone made from a bucket), and sawed 1-2-3, plop, head in the trash can catcher, and it was over. I actually did the second one myself to illustrate this point, (it took four saws, I found my place, held the head down firmly, then shut my eyes for the 1-2-3---4).
I was amazed at the difference in myself since last year. City slicker has definitely been countrified. Remember I was weepy and couldn't eat meat after that first round? The second round a while back I was just ok, but this time I didn't have one tender feeling about it. I felt grateful, and today's dinner (shown above) for me had a stronger sense of thanksgiving and recognizing the reality of the bounty we enjoy (plus it was super yummy), but I didn't feel much sentimental about it--after all, I've been complicit in chicken death my whole life, and at least I know these chickens were well taken care of.
About by chicken 9 I finally figured out the plucker really did work amazingly and required very little after plucking if the operator (me) actually used it right, so after that I was fast. Dave bled out and beheaded, popped them in a holding pot, I scalded them (15 seconds just under boiling water) and pulled out large wing and tail feathers, then went to the plucker which is just a wheel covered in rubbery "fingers" spinning to the left out of a grate. I finally figured out to hold the bird so the rubber things went against the grain--feet on the right, and rotated the bird top to bottom, left to right, under wings and between legs, and all of a sudden it looked like a lovely roaster from the store--except with big yellow feet and a too-long, gory looking neck. I cut off the feet with chicken scissors and tossed it into the icewater in the cooler. By the end, this whole process was well under 5 minutes.
Meanwhile, Dennis was running errands to get more coolers, get more ice, get bags, etc. and Danny and Jess where making sure my water stayed hot enough--makes a HUGE difference in how well you pluck (and too long in the hot water makes the skin come off with the feathers--in the end I had to skin 2).
Last year I wanted to spare my kids the trauma and make sure I had them far away for this, but not so much this year. Ben and Sophie knew what was going on and chose to stay inside, Ben ate his chicken tonight just fine, Sophie hasn't feeling well for a few days and didn't eat much of anything. Noah was outside some, and not visibly traumatized, but not really happy about it, seemed puzzled and trying to figure it all out. He wouldn't eat it today, but in general he doesn't eat much meat, so it's hard to know. Lucy was outside the most and it was all we could do to keep her from the feather/blood hazmat area.
At one point when Noah first got out he came over to me while I was working a chicken over on the plucker, and said, "Mom, are you making lunch?"
Lucy came over and saw the first chicken alone in the cooler water and said, "Mom, is the chicken taking a bath?" "Yes, Lucy." I said. She said, "Is the chicken hurt in the bath?" To which I replied, "Not anymore." David called over from his killing station, "The hurting happens over here."
I feel like my dead pioneer ancestors are not so much derisively laughing at me this time as I'm sure they were the last time I was all weepy and traumatized over killing chickens while being perfectly willing to munch down the supermarket/Del Taco version. I didn't think I would come to this point, but I can perfectly see myself going out back on Saturday and wringing a neck for Sunday dinner.
Once we were all done, the cleaning was a pain. Danny did 5 or 6, which I was impressed by. Although I had done it before, I had forgotten some, and I was at 15 or more minutes a bird at first, but I worked myself down to 5-7 (still terribly slow). Today I found one I'd forgotten in the cooler and was done super fast. The trick is to carefully cut around the top and bottom ends in a way where you don't nick any of the guts, but you are able to put your hand in there like you're stuffing the bird and pull out everything inside at once, then you need to scrape out the lungs and kidneys, which are stuck to the back ribs, with your fingernails. My fingers were sore today, which made piano in primary a little tricky.
I'm just saying, like Victor Frankl says in "Man's Search for Meaning" where he writes about his life in Auschvitz, people can adapt to anything. We really have no idea what we're capable of, and the things we say we could "never" do today we may find one day we don't give a second thought.
Dinner tonight was yummy, the best part was the strawberries Ma-in-law dipped in sour cream and brown sugar. Holy cow, life is good.
Speaking of life is good, our bunnies now live under the rabbit cages in the shed rather than in them, because I wanted them to be out and more free, and they seem to leave peacably with the chickens. I let them all out in the day to run about and then they all go back in at night on their own and I shut the door. I looked in the backyard today and saw Lucy swinging on the tree swing with a couple bouncing bunnies in the grass around her and a chick or two pecking about, and it was the most idyllic scene. We've been so blessed here.
I tried to let the turkeys have some freedom today, as their pen opens up to the back pasture our neighbors use to graze their sheep (but is owned by our landlord). I came back to put them back in and the sheep had gone in there, eaten all their feed and upset their water. So I guess freedom won't be in the cards for them. Oh well, more tender meat, I guess. I'll try to get pictures up shortly.
Sorry if this was too gruesome for you, this is pretty much my journal, after all, so feel free to skip whatever.
I'm biking to work tomorrow, 15 miles, so I need to get to bed. Wish me luck.
Thanks for all y'alls sweet comments--I miss everybody lots.
Get up, shuffle kids, get to work late, go home, shuffle/feed kids, start two hours of bedtime routine, chores, veg, crash. Repeat 5 times.
Saturday, get up and make a long list of things to do while managing kids and cleaning house, look up and realize it’s 4 p.m., do maybe one thing on the list, veg.
Sunday, try not to sleep during church (because it’s hard to play the piano that way), get things ready to start over.
So, aren’t you glad I haven’t been blogging about that boring liturgy?
There was one exciting thing a few weeks ago, where Noah smuggled a quarter in his pocket to primary (I was in there playing piano). He popped it in his mouth around 10:30 a.m. during sharing time and got it lodged in his trachea just above his windpipe, triggering his gag reflex almost nonstop and causing slight bleeding for about 6 hours as we went from community hospital, then by ambulance to Primary Childrens hospital, had x-rays, had a radiologist try to push it into his stomach while he was awake and on x-ray (nightmare) and then had him scheduled for surgery to put him out and pull it back out. Right before he was to go into surgery, he started talking again (he couldn’t most of the day) and they decided to x-ray him again (because it looked like his liver was in the wrong place—holy cow) and that x-ray showed the quarter in his stomach (and the liver “probably” ok). We were promptly discharged at 6 p.m., and little Noah had little red spots in and around his eyes from little blood vessels broken from all the heaving and vomiting. Next day he was warning all his little friends not to put money in their mouths. We never saw the thing pass (poop filtering is not a daycare responsibility).
Now go, scare your children with this story and hopefully spare yourself the drama. Did I mention this happened on Mother’s Day?
David did his first felony trial a few weeks ago and it was exhilarating and exhausting for him—the pre-trial week, the trial week, and then this week while he’s traveling for his “real” job, I’ve been pretty much on my own in life, but it has been ok—he’s not that fun to be around when he’s stressed out anyway. I mentioned he has some irons in the fire and we find out about them soon. We are praying hard and ask you to join this, this Fast Sunday especially.
Here’s some good news—all the kids will be out of daycare after today. I will still work 8-3, David will work at the FD 1-5 and work his “real” job around that, and we will have the kids with friends/family/sitters from 12:30 – 3:30 each day. Since the kids are out of school, out of preschool, and out of daycare, we will save $800 a month this summer. This will be so much better for them, and for our budget.
Ben is really growing up and it makes me nervous, because I feel like I’ve been just coasting as a parent too much with him and I can see he really needs active, attentive parenting complete with respect, validation and listening right now. I also notice I tend to parent all my kids as if they were all the average age of my children—so Noah/Sophie get the most appropriate parenting, Ben is too often dismissed and overly restricted and Lucy runs wild. This is just a generalization, but I see it happening.
Ben loves Tae Kwon Do, biking, scouts and wants to have his summer really start (he’s been out for two weeks). I dream of taking them camping and fishing and doing summery things. I pray that somehow that this life will be possible for us. He is taking on more independence and we have nice talks at night sometimes. Because he now goes to bed at 10, all that quiet, self/couple time we used to have after the kids go to bed is officially gone. Kim warned me this would happen and I dismissed it. That was about 3 months ago, but in two years I will begin my fifteen year stint of life with teenagers, so I guess that’s just where I am now—no self time anymore, or no sleep, I just need to pick between them. Ben needs time with me to download in the evenings at least a few times a week and I need to just put him first on that.
Sophie is enjoying gymnastics and is excited about her last day of school today. She’s had a good year, very much due to her wonderful grandmother/teacher, not so much due to her neglectful mom. She really needs more from me too, and gets less than anyone. I do end up sleeping with her many hours a night, so I’d like to get credit on that front, but alas, real parenting apparently happens when we’re awake. I’m struggling with the idea that Sophie still has a very hard time doing the right thing and being honest when it isn’t easy and no one is watching, but I guess many adults have the same problem. She seems to pick up the negative behaviors of others very quickly and want to fit in almost above all else. I want to have time to help her feel more secure about who she is and help her look inside to find it, rather than outside. Granted, she’s not even 8, but I can see red flags all over if that persists into her teenage years. I’m trying to really tuck her in at night and chat.
Noah is also starting to talk and act in a way that makes me realize he’s turning into a boy, not just my little, cuddly preschooler. Still cuddly, though. He loved his preschool with Kona Dee, a woman around the corner who has done this for a long time, it was wonderful for him. He is looking forward to not going to daycare anymore and being home more. He also loves gymnastics class and is amazingly coordinated and strong. We are still in the process of running some tests on him to make sure his metabolism/digestion is ok, because he has stomach aches a lot.
Lucy also is growing up on me! Not physically, mind you, but in every other way. She has a wonderful, sweet, strong spirit that seems intuitive, in a way, like she understands a lot about what is going on around her. When she talks, it is as clear as a bell, even the Ls and Ss are perfect. But, she generally chooses not to talk, except for occasional streams of gab that all of a sudden won’t stop. She is three next week, can you believe it? It will be a bit sad for her to leave day care, as she’s spent a third of her life there and has had a great experience and lots of friends. There’s a good chance she’ll be there every now and then as a drop off, so that’s how I help myself feel better about it.
We have been so blessed to have all the kids in wonderful situations throughout this year of me working, I really see the hand of the Lord taking care of us.
As for me, I’m continuing the training, have one week before the Tour de Cure and got enough donations (thanks!) to ride. Even scarier, I start riding my bike to work on Monday. That will be interesting. I know you’re asking, have you lost weight with all this exercise? Sorry, no. Fat as ever (although I bet I can beat you skinny chicks in the pool or on a bike!). But I have been sporadic the past two weeks with stuff at work going on and having to use my lunches to do family things. I can’t miss one more swim class or I won’t make the Channel challenge. Spudman is 6 or so weeks away, and I still need to find an Athena (big girl) wetsuit (new they are $300). I’m depressed and conflicted about my garden, but can’t talk about that now. Animals are doing great. The Great Chicken Massacre of 2009 is on for tomorrow. So, I guess those 21 fryers aren’t really doing great, but they don’t know it yet. They’ll be tasting great, though.
I meant to write about happiness, and this fascinating Talk of the Nation show about this 60-year study on happiness, but I guess I kind of did talk about happiness. If you aren’t going to listen to the show, I’ll give you a hint: All the things we spend all out time seeking out in our quest for happiness—rest, relaxation, a break, peace, less stress, more financial ease—of course aren’t the things that actually get us there. It’s just like Lehi said, opposition is what creates this experience we call life. Happy people are made happy by overcoming, working, adapting to stress, coping with challenges. Resilience is the key, apparently, the ability to adapt to make the best of any situation, no matter how ugly. Listen to the show or read the article it was based on: "What Makes Us Happy?"
This blog post is sponsored by Megan, who generously supported my campaign in memory of her sweet departed mom. She tactfully pointed out that she wanted more blog posts because now she’s paid for it.
I’ll try to keep it at least weekly, if not more. Love to all—
Life is getting in the way of blogging these days—the pace of things is just overwhelming. I’m at work and it is busy and some of my efforts are paying off here for them, although I spend their money like crazy.
I’m back 100% and feeling pretty good. I’m training heavily for three events and am almost always sore, but at least not the bad pain. I’ve been reluctant to talk about my training because I guess I secretly wanted an “out”—if no one knew, then if I didn’t follow through on it no one would still know. But it’s too late for that now, fees have been paid, coworkers are in-the-know and I’m confident I’ll be able to do them. The long and the short of it is that I don’t think I have an inner skinny person. But I do have an inner athlete. And, I have lots of coworker support and examples and people to go to the gym with every lunch hour for training, as well as people who have done these type of things who can help with my training plans. Having training time completely built into my work schedule is the only thing that makes it possible.
So, the three things on the calendar are:
Tour de Cure bike ride (25 miles) is June 18th (please click on the post a few back and support my cause if you can!)
“Swim the English Channel” is a program sponsored by our county gym here that we all go to. I’ve started the Master Class there on Tues/Thurs, which really tells you how willing I am to surrender all personal dignity—as I’m swimming with practically every male executive and coworker I have—no girls—and me in a suit is a sad, scary thing. (My hair and eyes are my only redeeming features, and those are handily hidden by cap and goggles, so I’m just lumpy blob in a girl-Speedo. J ) ANYWAY If I swim the distance of the English Channel (35000ish meters at it’s smallest point) I get . . .wait for it . . .a T-shirt that says I swam the English Channel! Fortunately, this simply means I go to class and the brutal Polish taskmaster of a teacher always makes us do well over the 1350 meters each lesson, which is the minimum required to meet this goal by the end of July when the challenge ends.
Spudman Olympic Triathlon is in Burley Idaho on July 18th. Several of my co-workers are going, and I was nervous because, although I knew I could work up to an Olympic distance if I had to (about a mile swim, 10K run, 25 mile bike), I didn’t want to do it never having done just a Sprint Distance (half of the Oly), but the good news is—I’ve found a runner to be a team with me, so now I can do just the swim and bike without trashing my arthritic hips on the run. Still, I am doing something I call a “Tridaho” which is me, in “my own private Idaho,” doing triathlon distances—I do one Sprint distance a week, 2 days of each event, half the sprint distance at each workout. Before the Spudman, if I don’t actually sign up for a sprint distance event (because they cost money and are fixed in the schedule, which is hard) I will do an all-at-once “Tridaho” on a Saturday so I feel more ready. Don’t count on me to ever walk/jog more than a 5k, though. I HATE running. The bikey-swimmy thing I really like. Plus, the gym has a bike video game where the handlebars move and I get to chase flying dragons and spinning coins, so that’s fun.
My inspiration has been the book “Slow, Fat Triathlete.” Hilarious and helpful.
Our Relief Society is trying to read the Book of Mormon in 60 days. Thanks to the iPod, I’m only a few days behind.
Also, I’m up to 5 voice students, so two nights are taken up doing that. I never went back to choir after the surgery, and I feel guilty but also way less stressed. Wednesdays are the gymnastics/TaeKwonDo Shuffle, Mondays are family night, Saturdays are date night. Instead of blogging, I’ve been working on a book, so that’s the other night. And although I know you guys think I’m crazy, the 59 chickens, four turkeys and four rabbits take really no more time than it takes to feed and walk a dog. (But dogs don’t lay eggs). 21 of those chickens are on death row for sometime between the end of this month and the end of next. When the new pullets begin to lay in late August, I will need to revisit the egg situation. We are already getting 8-10 a day from our 10 chickens. I have no business having 33 layers just because I want to see all the pretty colors they lay. So I’ll have to figure that out. I could always craigslist the eggs. But I do think I will sell some of my current commercial hens off at some point.
Plus, time is shorter because I’m trying to actually get to bed before midnight and am aiming for 11 each night. After dinner, baths, stories, tuck-ins and time with each kid (Ben now goes to bed between 9-10), I try to hang out with David for a minute unless he’s working, in which case I either write or sit in a hot bath and Epsom salts and soak my sore muscles.
I don’t want to pay to go to Weight Watchers, but I learned from the Slow Fat Triathlete book that it is VERY possible to stay fat as an athlete—you can burn 600 calories in a workout and easily (if you’re me) gobble down 600+ calories in 5 minutes. I finally realized that I have only been successful long-term in weight loss by doing the lame old calorie/portion counting thing, so I’m back to that. This site is free and has been very helpful in keeping me honest—I track my food, workouts and journal each day there: http://caloriecount.about.com
All this makes me sound far more ambitious than I am. Rest assured that I am a very, very lazy person. I just don’t want to feel so old when I’m not even 40.
David has had a nibble on a job app—pray for that please.
In the spirit of calorie counting, I pass along to you an AMAZING recipe my friend here at work often brings in:
Peanut Butter Bars – Jeanette Ricks
1 C Sugar 2 C Flour
1 C brown Sugar 2 tsp Soda
1 C butter 2 tsp salt
2 eggs 2 C Oatmeal
1 tsp vanilla
1 C peanut butter
Cream butter and sugars. Add eggs, vanilla and peanut butter. Add dry ingredients. Bake in jelly roll pan at 325 for 20 minutes. Do not overbake! Frost (recipe follows).
Peanut Butter Bars Frosting:
4 C powdered sugar 1 tsp vanilla
1 TBSP Cocoa ¼ C milk
1/3 C Butter, melted
Blend until creamy and smooth. Spread on cooled cookie bars.
*Before I put the frosting on, while it is still hot I pour on some melted peanut butter and then let it cool. Then the frosting
Downstairs bathroom converted to greenhouse (and turkey nursery)
Sorry, sideways. I replaced the normal vanity bulbs with alternating white and yellow CFLs. Plants love florescent light and CO2, (just the opposite of humans).
This is thanksgiving in it's early form. Four turkey poults (poults=turkey chicks). Two bronze and two whites, here four days old. These are commercial breed broad-breasted, so they can't reproduce due to the awkward physical size they will eventually have. Also, they can have leg problems if allowed to live too long--they've been selected for meat. Next year I am going to get the old fashioned kind that are a little less busty but can reproduce.
The poults look a little like the chicks, but they have more prominent wings, longer necks and a little knobby on their forehead/beak area. They are less flighty and skittish than the chicks and let me hold and pet them. The are very wobbly and awkward when they walk as opposed to the chicks, and tend to just walk right over each other rather than walking around. They are cute and very, very stupid. They are also very fragile, so it's recommended you get 1/2 as much more to double the poults as the number of turkeys you want to end up with because they die easily. Mine are very pampered, so I'm hoping for better odds.
white poult
bronze poult
They are friendly, but love to nip at my fingernails and wedding ring. They'll eat out of my hand.
Here are the layer chicks, 3.5 weeks old, 14 different breeds. Five of the tan ones are buff orpington cockerels (roosters under a year). When I make a weird noise or do something strange like hold a camera at them they all freeze and stare at me out of one eye like this. Notice "skinny-head," as the kids call her, in the back center, with the 'Nilla Ice crew cut.
The lovely hen in the middle is the one we call "red," for obvious reasons. She's beautiful. The Buff behind her I believe must be a cockerel, from the long legs and larger size. The water bottle on top of the waterer is to keep them from roosting up there and pooping in their water, because they are that way.
Another photo of the, "What the "%&*@" is food-lady pointing at us?" freeze-and-stare pose.
I keep the greenhouse/turkey nursery/bathroom locked and let myself in with a hairpin because I'm the only one in the house that can figure that out. This is spike, our gorgeous boy-kitty, saying, "Please, please let me in here just for a minute. I just want to look at the turkeys, that's all."
Girl-cat Bella smiles for the camera. She doesn't even bother trying to get in to the chick or poult rooms anymore. You're asking if my house stinks, aren't you? No, not really. Not any more than the barf fest we had over Easter weekend and the daily diapers. And as any good book will tell you, proper litter management means little to no smell.
Because there is no way I could properly manage all the litter these gargatuan 3.5 week old fryers are putting out these days, I had to move them outside, even though it is a little early. David built an 8x8 pen. At this age, they need about 1 sq ft of space each, moving up to 3 (min) -5 (cushy) sq feet each as they grow (on soapbox: commercial chicken batteries give them a space smaller than a piece of paper--six hens in a file-drawer sized cage--they can't even sit down most of the time. This creates disease and pecking, so they often have to debeak. It is not uncommon for one of the six chickens to be dead and trampled long before anyone gets to it. They live that way for two years. off soapbox). I have 21 fryers now, as some died, which chicks sometimes do. So 64 square feet gives them a very comfortable 3 feet each. They will need a heat lamp until they are harvested at 8-12 weeks. Chickens eat grass, and having chickens on grass reduces feed costs.
The Easter bunnies came to our house this year! Here are our four bunnies. The white ones are Goosey (named on behalf of Lucy, aka, the Goose) and Susan (named by Sophie). The black one was named by Noah: Blacky Taffy. The grey stripped one you can't see on the right is Ben's, Hoppity. These are all New Zealands which are a good pet or meat breed, the white ones are a good fur breed also. Theoretically we have one white buck (Goosey) but in all honesty it is too early to tell. If we do, it is possible that 150 rabbits a year can come from just these four innocent little things. A rabbit ovulates upon intercourse, the latter causes the former. They can start to reproduce at 8 weeks, have around 8 per litter, and can start over 8 weeks later (and so can their babies).
They can eat pellets, which are expensive, but are very happy on 70% alfalfa and 30% mixed grain, which is way cheaper. We got a starter bag of pellets and (my first!) bale of alfalfa hay. Alfalfa is a legume, which means the hay is high in protein for them (also Alfalfa feeds nitrogen to the soil and is a good crop to rotate before or after you plant your garden).
These guys are in cages, but we give them outside play time (when it isn't raining) and will build them an A-frame outside hutch for the summer so they can eat grass and save us even more on feed. These cages are old and free, given back from a family in the ward, whom my cousin lent them to a while back. This is in our shed/mini barn.
I can't show off my cute hair because it has been rainy and this picture was taken after doing chores in the rain--I had to clip my new bangs back because water turns them back into a fro--all the straightening-iron magic is gone. But here are me (tired, as you can see from the circles, and cold, as you can see from the red nose) and Goosey.
Will we eat the rabbits? We won't eat these, our breeders, which is why we can name them. We'll raise a few and try it and see how it goes. They are higher in protein and almost fat free in comparison to any other meat, and many say they are very good. Is it okay to eat cute things? Well, I think my chickens are very cute, and cows are just beautiful, with those big brown cow-eyes. This whole experience has definitely led me to be more mindful of the meat I eat, and we eat less. Rabbits are great food storage, as they convert feed to meat more efficiently than any other animal and breed fast and easily. Plus, I'd rather eat a cute rabbit that I gave a happy life than a miserable and factory-farmed chicken that is 10% fecal soup (sorry, off the soapbox really now). We can always keep the buck separate from the does to slow things down. And we can put the extras on ksl.com or craigslist and get rid of them.
We now have about 66 animals. I'm finding I really, really take a lot of joy from these animals, in a very satisfying way, not just like with pets, but another way I can't verbalize very well. I appreciate them and love them, and it doesn't wig me out that they are food animals, because I know that I really have a lot more gratitude and respect for food animals than I ever have.
So, our Easter was fun, with new animals and a big egg hunt in the yard with lots of our friends, including the Hunters from Pasadena, whom we miss terribly. It was so great to see you guys.
Work is fine, life is fine. I'm trying to walk that fine balance between striving hard and praying hard for the things we need but being accepting, thankful and satisfied with what we have. There are issues, some big, that aren't really blog fodder, but overall, we are very blessed.
I have to go because I promised Sophie we could watch "her video." Yet again. Ever since she saw Emilie Simon on my blog (my hair picture) she has been obsessed with this video. It is actually very cool and visually interesting. Don't wig out that it shows her back for a second at the beginning--it represents the beginning of spring, but it doesn't get all nudie. Watch--it's a fun song.
I’m back at work, getting back into the swing of things, and starting some very challenging personal goals. Conference was an important time for me and helped me refocus on service, discipleship and self-mastery rather than where I was (that would be the four Ds: Discouragement, Despair, Lack of Diligence, at whatever the other one was).
I keep thinking about the words to “Lead Kindly Light.” “Lead thou me on, the night is dark and I am far from home . . . Keep Thou my feet, I do not ask to see the distant scene . . . One step enough for me . . . I was not ever thus nor prayed that thou should lead me on. I loved to choose and see my path but now, lead Thou me on. I loved the garish day and spite of fears, pride ruled my will, remember not past years. So long thy power has led me, sure it still will lead me on . . .” I think about Elder Eyring’s talk a while ago about not always asking for our own agendas when we pray but asking what He wants us to do. I have found some peace just asking for what He wants me to do (rather than telling him what I want) and saying simpler prayers.
Anyway, I’m starting to realize how important self-mastery is when trying to feel the Spirit and receive revelation Part of my self-mastery goal includes not getting diabetes. My coworker is the chairman for this ride and my company has a team. Please click above and show your support in my efforts to help myself to fight off diabetes and others to fight the diabetes they have. If you live in Utah, I would love it if you would ride with me. Give me an email and I’ll send you a code so you can join for just $15. There is also a family ride that is only 7 miles.
From invalid to athlete in 9 weeks: Will you support me?
