Lindsey's Birthday Cake

We are moving in a week and a half!  It doesn't seem possible.  It's exciting, terrifying, overwhelming, and heart-wrenching for me.  But as we near our move-date, we're slowly getting things done, and I'm feeling better about things.  I got our car checked out for long-distance travel.  I have called utility companies.  We have our moving truck scheduled.  I sold our washer and dryer over the weekend.  I listed it in the local online classifieds early, just in case it took a while to sell, and I had three calls on it almost immediately.  A lady picked it up the next day.  It's good to have that taken care of, but knowing how quickly they sold, I wish I had waited another week.  I don't know how to do things without a washing machine, especially with my messy kids.

Today, though, I took a break from all that.  We went to church, and it was lovely.  It felt relaxed and uplifting for the first time all year.  And I made a birthday cake for a friend.  It felt so nice to do something creative and not related to packing, moving, cleaning, or kids, just for a little while.

Just a few notes about the cake (again, these notes are mostly for me, but are here for anyone who is interested).  I used the same cake recipe as the purse cake.  It works well because it is very dense.  I didn't make buttercream.  Instead, I used dark and white chocolate ganache to both fill and cover the cake.  I loved it!  I loved working with it so much that I may not ever make buttercream frosting again.  The ganache itself didn't take long to make, and it is very smooth and easy to work with.  The trick is to wait for it to be the right temperature to spread.  Not too warm or cold.  I made it the night before and put it in the fridge.  Next time, I'll take it out of the fridge early in the morning to give it more time to come to room temperature.  This three-layer, 8" cake took 13.6 oz. dark chocolate (2 large Hershey bars), 16 oz. white chocolate baking chips, and 10.8 oz. heavy cream.

I tried the Upside Down Frosting Technique to fill and cover the cakes this time, which is a new technique for me.  It went great until I got to the very end, 99% done, and I went to peel the parchment paper off the top of the cake, and it was completely stuck to the ganache.  It took all the ganache off the top of the cake with it.  Bummer!  I threw a small fit (poor Spiff has to witness these every time I do a project like this, since I can never do a project without some kind of a major hiccup).  Then I pulled myself together and replaced the ganache on the top of the cake.  It ended up being fine.  I'm just disappointed that the new technique didn't work as smoothly as I wanted it to.  I also wish I knew what went wrong.  I have no idea how to fix it next time.

Here's a picture of the cake after I finished covering it with ganache.  It's sort of marbled because of using both white and dark chocolate.  Notice how straight and smooth the sides are!  Notice how cylindrical it is!  I did like that technique.  I just need to iron out that one small detail about the top.  

Ogden Marathon 2012

I ran a marathon.  It was amazing beyond belief.  I want to remember every moment of the run, so here's a recap.

I went to bed way too late gathering my things, couldn't get to sleep because of pre-race jitters and my brain imagining every possible scenario of race-day, and then my alarm went off at 3:20 a.m.  I hopped in the car, picked up my sisters, Steph & Lori, and my girl, Kalie, and drove to Ogden where we met up with the masses of other crazy early risers who make us feel so much less crazy for putting ourselves through all of these early running hours, cold temperatures, and running pains.  We loaded a bus and drove to the start line.  As we drove further and further and further, I kept wondering how in the world I was going to be able to run all the way back.  What a long ride!

We waited in the 36 degree weather at the start line for about an hour before the race started.  I was so badly shivering with cold and nerves that I decided to keep my jacket during the run, a decision I regretted two miles into the race when the sun came out and I had my jacket tied around my waist for the entire run.  I would have ditched it on the side of the road had it not been my absolute favorite jacket.

The minutes close to 7:00 rolled around, and we made our way with the masses to our individual pace groups.  Saying goodbye and good luck to Kalie and Lori made me nervous, and I ran every step with them on my mind, wondering how they were doing.  I lined up with Steph with the 4:15 group.  Then we were off!

As we began running, I was struck by the beauty of the experience.  The early misty morning air.  The rocky hills around us.  The masses of bouncing runner's heads that completely filled the road ahead of us as far as I could see.  It was all so beautiful!

My strategy for the run was to stay by Stephanie's side.  This was her 4th marathon and I relied on her experience to get me through the training and race day.  She was my vet and my rock.  I cannot imagine running 26.2 miles without her.

My fueling strategy was to carry a clif bar and sport beans in my hands, munching them along the way.  Steph and I were also going to walk through every water stop to hydrate.  I ate so much that morning because I was terrified of running out of energy!

At mile 2, I admitted to Steph that I my hip was hurting with every step I took, but I was going to try not to complain about it.

At mile 7, we ran a section of road that wound around a field of horses.  We could see a stream of runners ahead of us, and the horses were running with us.  They came right up to the fence by us, looked at us, and then raced off ahead, as if to say, "You runners are awesome, but we're still faster than you!"  They looked like they were having so much fun!

The time began to move, and I was surprised at how quickly the miles ticked off.  The first 13 were practically a breeze.  We kept the 4:15 Pacer's balloons in sight until we stopped at the bathrooms at the halfway point.  We made a quick stop, but never saw those darn balloons again.

It was at that point, as we started up again, that I realized how much pain I was in.  My whole body was tired and much more sore than I hoped I would be this early in the race.  My injured leg hurt so much to start running again that I probably should have stopped.  But I didn't want to.  So I kept running.  I knew that if I could just get going that I would be able to finish.  I just couldn't stop to walk again.  That meant that I jogged slowly through the remaining water stops, and I sloshed Poweraid down my face and clothes every time.

Mile 17 was one of my hardest.  It was hilly, sunny, and seemed to go on forever.  During this mile, we chatted with a guy who was running his 41st marathon, his 3rd this year.  He is doing another one in three weeks.  It was an inspirational little push to get me to the 18 mile mark.

We passed the 18 mile marker, crossed the dam, and headed down the canyon.  It was beautiful beyond belief, but Steph and I both found it difficult to swith to downhill running.  My quads started burning at this point.  Steph didn't say anything about it, but her knee started to really hurt her with the downhill.  Good thing it wasn't very steap for very long.

I did a little dance inside when I passed the 20-mile mark.  It had previously been the farthest I had ever run.  Everything that was left was a PR in my book.

At mile 21, I found myself thinking, "I am almost done with my first marathon!  I cannot believe that I only have 5 miles left.  I can't believe I'm almost done."

At mile 23, we came out of the canyon and ran on a hilly greenbelt the last three miles back into Ogden.  Steph began to tire out.  She continued out plan to walk through the water stops.  I couldn't stop running, and found myself getting a few steps ahead of her.  I thought about continuing on without her to the end, but stopped myself.  We were in this together.  We had run every step together, and we were going to finish together.  She caught up, and we continued on our way together.

The route from here to the end was packed with people on the sidelines cheering on the runners.  Our names were printed on our bibs, and it was such an awesome little boost to hear someone I didn't know call out my name and cheer me on individually.  They have no idea how much they helped me to the finish line.

Mile 25 was the hardest and the longest.  I had carried food in my hand the entire way and still had a bag of sport beans and a small clif bar.  My hands were swollen, and I thought about tossing them at the 25-mile water stop, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.  What a waste, I thought!  But at 25.5, I just couldn't hold them anymore.  I tossed them on the side of the road!  And then I cheered myself for making a frivolous and wasteful decision!

The course turned the final corner, and I rejoiced when I saw the finish line.  Steph and I crossed the finish line hand-in-hand at 4:25.  It was 10 minutes off our goal, but I knew that we had both given everything we had, and I am as proud as can be of that finish time.  I had a feeling of overwhelming glee to have just finished my first marathon!  Amazing!

Then I made it through the little finisher's shoot to the grassy area, lied down on the grass and didn't move for an hour while we waited for Lori to come in.  During that time, I got the chills (a lot like I do after I have a baby...in fact, I can compare the whole experience to labor!), and my whole body set up.  My legs have been more sore than they ever have been in my life (do you remember the burning quads on the downhill?), and my silly injury is pretty bad.  I fought nausea from the pain of walking and ended up in the medics tent, which made me feel like a total pansy.

I also got really emotional.  It took so much out of me that I couldn't think about the experience, my sisters and their hard work, Kalie and her successes, my friend Lindsay who showed up to cheer me on (even though I never found her) without choking up.  It is a truly soul-reaching experience.

But I finished.  I'm glad I did it, even though the past three days of recovery have been some of my hardest ever.  Thank goodness for my wonderful parents who have watched my children while I have been practically immobile!  I think I would have always wondered and regretted it if I had decided not to do it, even though it definitely wasn't the best thing for my leg.  I wouldn't trade the experience for anything.  Thank you to everyone who made it possible for me.
And I can't wait to do another one.

Marathon Tomorrow!

Well, because I know you're all dying to know, here's a little update before the marathon tomorrow.

Did I just say "tomorrow"?  I did, didn't I?  Oh, gosh, that's scary. 

Okay, moving on.

It has been a tough couple of weeks.  I was so sore last week.  I literally limped for most of the week, with shooting pains up into my groin every time I took a step or stood directly on my left leg.  Difficult to take care of the kids, put on my pants, care for my house, or anything else.  I cried all week long, seeing this goal of mine being taken away from me after working so hard because of something that I didn't understand.  And poor Spiff, since he was working nights all week long, I only saw him for about 5 minutes each day, and I cried at him for all 5 minutes every day.

Gunner asked me what was wrong one day.  I told him that my leg hurt, and that I didn't think I would be able to run my marathon.  The sweet guy replied, "It's okay.  It's going to be okay, Mom.  I'm going to run your marathon for you."

I love him.
Anyway, I saw a sports medicine doctor on Monday.  He did some ex-rays and an exam.  It was inconclusive.  He didn't think it's a pulled or torn muscle.  He couldn't see anything on the ex-ray.  He did say that he thinks it's probably the beginnings of a stress fracture in my hip bone, but it's new enough that it doesn't show up on the picture.  Scary thought, the stress fracture.

He did tell me that I can run the marathon as long as I'm smart about it and am listening to my body.  Too much pain = stop running.

I went on a short test-run yesterday.  It was okay.  I didn't feel perfectly better, but I wasn't in pain.  Mostly just stiff.  And I have felt okay since then.  So, I'm going to run tomorrow, and I'm hoping for the best.  I feel weird going into it not having really trained for the past three weeks, and knowing that there is a good possibility that I won't finish.  But I'm going to give it my best shot, try to be in tune with my body, and hope for the best.

My sweet sister-in-law has been so nice to me through all of this, calling and checking up on me, etc., and she dedicated her latest blog post to me yesterday.  It made me smile.  Thanks, Mhana!  And if I end up dropping out, I will be expecting that shirt.

Wish me luck!  Here we go!

The Bad and the Ugly

Spiff is on his second surgery rotation right now, and he is working nights this week. Nights shifts are hard on the whole family. The pressure to be quiet all day so daddy can sleep is very stressful for me and the kids. And Spiff is so tired. Poor guy.

Hobbes is not sleeping at night these days. Again. Sleep training is miserable every time.

Gunner is recovering from Spiff's family togetherness reunion and a second fun weekend spent with my family. He is so tired, and he is reaching new heights of grumpiness and defiance.

We're moving in 5 1/2 weeks, and I haven't had the energy to even think about packing.  I don't want to pack up my house again.

My marathon is in a week and a half, and I'm battling a new injury. I rested for a week, without many healing results. I am frustrated, disheartened, sad and afraid. My whole training has gone so well up until now. In fact, our last 20 mile run was the best run of my life. And now I am in constant pain. I want to run this marathon. I can't fathom the thought of not doing it. My goal from the beginning has been to run well, feel good, and finish strong. Now I am facing the possibility that I will be running with pain, and that I might not be running at all if I can't get better in the next week. It is killing me, and I am constantly praying for a miraculous recovery as I limp around taking care of the kids.

And I feel like I'm coming down with a cold.

Hard days right now. Blah.  Anyone have any words of encouragement for me?

Mhana's Purse Cake

I made my sissy-in-law this purse cake and shoe for her birthday.  We had a rare occasion to celebrate her day together, so I went all out on the cake.  Fun, huh?!  It was so fun surprising her with it.  She loved it and it made all of the effort totally worth it.  I have posted pictures on facebook, but I wanted to write out a few of the details, in case anyone is interested, but mostly for my reference.

The Cake:
Mhana requested chocolate cake with chocolate frosting.  I used this recipe for the cake.  It's a recipe to gussy up a regular box cake mix and make it more sturdy and easier to shape and carve.  The recipe calls for vanilla-flavored everything, but you can use any flavor w/ the corresponding pudding flavor.

I filled the cake layers with chocolate buttercream frosting. (You just have to scroll down and look for the powdered-sugar-based buttercream recipe.)  One weird thing: the recipe calls for 3 T. vanilla!  Do not use 3 T. vanilla!  It will change the texture of the frosting entirely, and then you'll have to add twice as much powdered sugar to fix it.  I only put in 1 teaspoon, and it was fine. 

I topped the cake with chocolate ganache. (Again, scroll down and find the ganache section.)  It was my first time making ganache, and I will definitely try it again.  It's very versatile.  It can be poured over the cake while it's thin and warm, spread over the cake while it's slightly cooler, or used as filling between the layers when it is even cooler.

I used this tutorial to make the purse cake.  She gives very detailed instructions on how to do it, and it's a whole lot easier than I thought it would be.  I wish mine looked as good as hers, but for my first one, I don't think it turned out too bad at all.

The cake is covered in marshmallow fondant.

The brown details on the purse are made of modeling chocolate, rolled into pipes.  My sister made the flowers.

The Shoe:
I found a pattern I liked online, printed it out, made the heel, then rolled and cut out the pieces of modeling chocolate.  Then the pieces are place together in the shape you want them using water to hold them together.  Piece of cake!  Well, it would have been if my modeling chocolate had set up like it should have.  It never really did fully set, although I don't know why.  Too much corn syrup and not enough chocolate?  I don't know.  But I did create a very elaborate support system for the shoe to sit on and dry for several days before giving it to the Sis.

What I learned:
Making cakes it time consuming.  I liked it, but I will like it even more if I am more prepared next time.  I will read up on any techniques I want to use in advance, and I will make the fondant, modeling chocolate, ganache, and frosting several days ahead of time.

Gunner got into the cake-making spirit while I did this.  He played "Cake Boss."  He squished and rolled out fondant like play dough, and he made a Shark Cake.  It was really just three oval-ish pieces of pink fondant squished onto the table, but to him, it was a monster-sized Cake-Boss-Style cake with a life-sized moveable shark coming out of the center.  It was pretty awesome.  The kid's got talent, for sure.

Short and Sweet

Gunner came running in from playing outside at my sister's house tonight after falling and hurting his nose. He was scraped up, bleeding a little, and very upset. After cleaning him up, comforting and calming him, I asked him how he got hurt.

 His reply: "I was climbing the porch fence, and it had strong powers and bucked me off."


 I sure do love him and his cuteness.

My Book About Marathon Training

As most of my faithful friends know, I am training for my first full marathon. It's very exciting for me because it's something I have wanted to do for several years, and I also never really thought I could actually run such long distances. But I am deep in training, in the middle of week 15 of a 19-week training program. We are in our toughest month, and I want to write down some thoughts about all of this while I am up to my neck in marathon training. (This is such a long and wordy post! I realize I have been doing a lot of that lately, and I promise to come up with something short and sweet soon.)

1. I am training with awesome people, and I know without a doubt that I would not be able to achieve this goal during Spiff's Intern Year without the help of so many beloved people. My neighbor, Kalie, is my dedicated partner. As previously mentioned, we run together throughout the week, pushing our kids in stollers. She is my rock. She is dedicated, committed, and Fast! She is positive, strong, and such an inspiration to me. She has also been kind enough to offer her treadmill for interval and tempo runs when the need has come. And she has watched my children so that I can run. I don't think I will ever be able to train for another marathon again without her by my side.

I am also training with my sisters. One is running her first marathon, like me. The other is a marathon vet. This will be her fourth marathon, and I am leaning completely on her experience as we have traversed distances I have never done before. I am also dependent on the help of her family, who have graciously offered to help tend my children while we run 2, 3, or 4-hour Saturday long runs together. More often than not, Spiff is working on Saturday mornings, and the boys and I have been spending Friday nights at my sister's house so that I can run with the group while her husband and kids have helped with my boys. It's so generous of them that I feel I will never be able to repay them. Because of their help, I am able to achieve my goal when my husband is unavailable, and enjoy time with my sisters and dear friend in the short time I am living near them.

2. I am marveling at how the process of marathon training works. After my first 17-mile run, a good friend, with whom I have run 3 half-marathons, asked me, "What does it feel like to run that distance?!" My response was that it doesn't feel all that different from running 13 miles because of the process. The program builds us up to the distances, and so our bodies and minds are ready for whatever distance we are scheduled to run that day. None of them are ever easy, but some of the longer runs (say 15 miles) actually feel easier to me than a 3-mile run because of the tricks my mind plays on me. I expect a three-mile run to feel easy and be over quickly, but it is still a 30-minute run, which is not an insignificant amount of time. But when I'm all geared up to stick it out for the long-haul, my mind takes it in stride and it almost feels like it's over before it starts. I can't wrap my head around it, and I really don't understand why it is that way.

3. I love being in really good shape! For several of our interval training runs, I went up to a local high school and ran on their track. I haven't done any serious running on a track since I was in high school. I was a fast runner as a kid, but I was never in very good shape. I always wanted to run long distances, but I never thought I could run anything over two miles. So I was a sprinter. I liked the 100 and 200m distances. The 400m sprint killed me. I remember feeling like every muscle in my body had been drained of energy by the time I hit the last straightaway (always in front of the crowd sitting in the bleachers) and that I might literally die (or pee my pants, whatever came first) running the last 100m. I just didn't have a base level of fitness that could get me through that long of a sprint.

Our program included 8 weeks of 400m intervals, starting with 6 reps and working our way up to 16 reps! It was intense, and definitely a battle of wills and endurance for me. But the thing that got me while I ran on the track is that I am strong! I could easily run a 400 lap (and by easy I mean that I didn't have that feeling like my muscles were all suddenly deflated like a balloon), recover quickly, and then do it again and again and again. I am in such better shape as a 32-year-old woman than I ever was as a teenage girl, or anytime in my 20s for that matter. It was an exhilarating realization.

On the flip side of that, I was caught running on the track a few times with some of the high school students doing their track workouts. (I stayed in the outside lane and tried to be as invisible as possible.) I tell you, there is nothing that can make me feel more like a slow old woman than running next to the varsity cross-country team. Their easy run was faster than my all-out sprint!

4. We have endured all kinds of weather throughout this training. The program started in January, so we have run in cold, wind, snow, rain, and everything in between. I don't think I did a track workout when it wasn't so windy that I didn't have to fight a serious headwind on the straightaway. I also got caught in a bonafide blizzard during a track workout. I watched the storm come in, and it started snowing when I was only done with 6 of 16 laps. So I ran the remaining 10 in a snowy, windy blizzard. That's when I realized my dedication to this sport.

5. I have become acquainted with various new ways of taking care of my tired and achy body. My post-long run ritual includes a piping hot chocolate while I sit in an ice bath (gasp!), then a good long time stretching and rolling out my legs on my rolling pin (since I don't have a foam roller). All of this, added to the time it takes to get ready for a long run, travel to where we're meeting, and run means that I am sometimes committed to the Saturday long run for 5-6 hours. And then I'm toasted for the rest of the day, so I can't go too fast or too far during our Saturday activities, and I usually need a nap, too. I have to give kudos to my family for supporting me. They are awesome!

6. And finally, I just have to say how much I love this sport. I love to run. I love being in training and having a set schedule to adhere to. I love long runs. I love being in tune with the elements. I love exploring the city on foot and seeing things I wouldn't see if I'm driving in my car. I love spending time with such good people. I love working hard for this goal, through every painful step.

We ran our first 20-mile run last Saturday. It went well, for the most part, although I was battling sore feet, knees and hips starting at mile 5. As I muddled through mile 19 1/2, I thought to myself, "I'm so tired and sore, I don't know if I could run another 6 miles!" It sort of seems impossible at this point. But my sister reminded me that Mile 20 is "The Wall." It is the point at which so many people think they cannot go on, and then they make it through and finish. I just need to trust the process and have faith that I will be ready on Marathon Day.

Here's hoping that I will be.

***And just for the record, here is what my other little training partners look like while we run! All snuggled up in their coats, hoods, gloves, blankets, heated rice bags, and rain cover. They are my little champs! Gunner will even occasionally cheer me on, "Go, Mama, Go!" He has started asking me when we get up in the morning, "Is it running day?" And, "Are you running with or without kids?" I love my little running buddies!

Carla

I want to share something with all of you. This is a long post, but I promise it's worth the read.

I moved to Eugene, OR almost ten years ago to attend graduate school. I didn't know anyone when I got there, and I was very lucky to make some amazing friends who will always be some of the most special of my life. One of them from that year was David, a sophomore at the time who was a convert to the LDS church and who was preparing for a mission. He had the most amazing testimony of anyone I knew, and he was really a wonderful friend to me that year. Although we have kept in touch, I haven't seen him since he left for his mission nine years ago and afterwards moved back home to San Diego where he got married and started his family. I have been so sad this week to hear the news that his wife passed away after a two-year battle with cancer. My heart breaks all over again every time I think of him living without the love of his life, and of his two beautiful little children who will never know their Mama.

I never met Carla, but I know she made David very happy. This is the Christmas Letter she sent out in December. I cried when I read it four months ago, and I just cannot stop thinking about their journey now that she is gone, so I'm sharing this letter with you. They are amazing people. I am impressed by their ability to stay positive and to recognize blessings from Heavenly Father when going through such adversity. I doubt I would handle it so well, and at the very least, I'm grateful for such an example to look towards when I face adversity of my own.

Hello again dear family and friends this wonderful Christmas season.

2011 has been another adventurous year for us and we thank each of you for all of your prayers, support and love. One of the side effects to my chemo is losing my fingernails, so it’s a bit tough to type this, but it really makes me grateful for the simple things.

To begin the new year, David started his last semester of law school and had an internship where he protected immigrant workers from sweat shop conditions. In February, I got a PET CT Scan of my whole body and found that my cancer had returned, but this time it was in my lungs, breast and bones, (my left femur, pelvis, ribs, spine, and tail bone). It was a bit overwhelming to hear that I had stage 4 cancer; I felt like it was spreading everywhere and so, so quickly! Last year was crazy being pregnant and going through surgery. I didn’t know what was in store, but I felt that in the end, everything would be ok. My doctor recommended I transfer to City of Hope in Duarte, CA (about 25 minutes away from our house) which specializes in cancer treatment.

By April, I was able to transfer to City of Hope and had my first appointment with my new doctor. The plan of attack: chemo. On May 5^th I had my first round and I was surprised at how sick I got. It was pretty horrible. Every three weeks I would sit for a 10 hour infusion of chemotherapy and every week I would do a treatment called Eurbitux which would help direct the chemo to attack my specific cancer. So every Thursday became infusion day.

On May 18^th, David graduated from Loyola Law School! It was such a proud moment when his name was read and he walked across the platform to receive his diploma. Everett, Elsa, and I know how hard he worked and cheered extra loud. Soon after, the dreaded study sessions for the bar began; and they felt like they never ended.

In June we headed to the Fontana Half Marathon. David ran the half marathon with my sisters Cathy and Cassia and some of our friends. Cathy and Cassia carried my shoes the whole race and I got to cross the finish line with them, getting a finisher’s medal! I was sad before because I was unable to run it, but going across any finish line just is amazing.Next year I want to be able to run again.

The California Bar Exam showed its ugly face at the end of July. After 18 hours, in three consecutive days, David was just glad it was finally over. By August we needed a break, so we took the kids to Disneyworld! We felt that if we were going to be in Florida, we had to see David’s mission, so we visited two of his areas, Jacksonville and Crescent City.David’s mission really changed his life and he talks about it so much. I was so grateful to finally be able to meet some of the people he taught and grew to love. Afterwards, we had so much fun at Disneyworld! My mom came to help with the kids and I got an electric scooter so I wouldn’t have to walk. It was so nice to celebrate David’s completion of the bar! And I got a week off from chemo. The kids loved it and so did we!

When we got back to Los Angeles, I went to surgery to get a portacath placed in my chest for my infusions. While I was under, my doctor informed my dad that the tumor in my left lung was growing even during chemo and there wasn’t much else to do for me. So my amazing dad got on the phone with as many people he knew to get a second opinion. We also found out that my tumor was close to my heart making it difficult for “normal” radiation to happen, so my dad found a doctor in Florida who specializes in high beam proton radiation which could pinpoint my tumor and focus there. So we left the kids in San Diego and flew back to Florida for this treatment at Shands Medical Center in Gainesville.We stayed at “Hope Lodge” for the week long treatment and what an experience that was.It was such a blessing to be in a communal living amongst other cancer patients. We met so many wonderful people who are going through similar battles and they were all so inspiring. I responded well to the treatment and so many people made it possible! Thank you all for your donations!!! It was amazing!

In September, David started his new job, a public interest fellowship at CARECEN.He practices immigration law, with a focus on representing asylees and victims of violent crimes, and absolutely loves it. It is always nice to have him come home happy.

In October, our baby Elsa turned the big 01. We still can’t believe it has been a year since she was born. I am always amazed at how smart she is. Last year they told me the risks of having surgery when pregnant, and they were very concerned about her brain development. She has no brain problems whatsoever, and is so amazing to watch! She is chasing her brother around and being very independent. She loves to play with her baby dolls. She was a very cute witch for Halloween and Everett loved being Captain Hook and going trick or treating with his friends.

On November 10^th I had my last chemo round. 9 rounds of chemo (8 months) made my body tired and some of the side effects have been pretty debilitating. So they said I would have to stop so my body could recover. I will continue with my Eurbitux treatments for "maintenance.”

Nov. 18, David found out that he PASSED the California Bar Exam!!!! He was so ecstatic! It was a great moment when he looked up the results on-line. I am so proud of all his hard work and ability to stay focused. He was sworn in on December 1^st and is officially official now as a licensed attorney.

December 5^th, Everett turned 3 years old! What a big man he is—he was so excited.We went to Disneyland to celebrate. He is now beginning potty training (thanks mom). He loves to pretend and insists on being called Captain Hook or Buzz Lightyear. He loves being a big brother. He started Joy School this year and has been thriving.

I had a CT scan done November 28^th and was waiting for the results to write this letter, but they were inconclusive. I still have something in my left lung but it could be scar tissue or it could be cancer. On December 20^th I have a PET CT to determine what it is, and of course we’re hoping for that Christmas miracle. If you want to get the news of the results, check us out on facebook (“Caring for Carla”).

This year has been humbling at times and triumphant at others and we pray that Heavenly Father helps us see more clearly the miracles that he pours onto us each and every day. We wish you all the merriest of Christmases and the happiest New Year!

New Lyrics

Gunner was singing "I Am a Child of God" this morning, but he changed the words of the chorus.

Lead Me, Guide Me

Sacrifice Me.

I think the general primary presidency ought to consider them for a permanent change.

Don't you?

A House of Order

My house has never been cleaner than it is right now. Our landlord is coming tomorrow to show our house to a potential renter. And she's taking pictures. Of the house. With my stuff in it. Her computer crashed and she lost the pictures she took several years ago with the renter who decorated and made the place look so cute. I have not made it look cute. Have I mentioned that I haven't decorated at all? All of our decorations are in boxes that we never unpacked last June because I felt like one year was not enough time to unpack, decorate and repack those pictures. So we have bare walls, and I don't mind a bit as long as it means that I don't have to pack those extra boxes in a couple months. But it does mean that the house does not look cute for pictures.

I cleaned this weekend in an effort to make it look like we live here, but not really. Spiff cleaned his office/bike/tool room. I took a load of stuff to Goodwill. I rearranged the boxes in our storage room (which is the "3rd bedroom" of the house) trying to make it look nice. Did you know that it's impossible to make a room look nice when it is lined wall-to-wall with cardboard boxes? Well, it is. In the end, I decided that it is, after all, our storage room, and I ought to be okay with it looking like one. Tomorrow, I'm hiding all the toys in their cabinet (as long as my kids don't come along behind me and get them all out as soon as I walk away...which is what most certainly will happen). I deep-cleaned the kitchen and cleaned the floors, which is something that will have to be done again in the morning after breakfast. Sigh.

Why am I so concerned about this? For one, I don't want it documented, even on my landlord's camera on pictures that I will probably never see, that I usually live in a mess (not filth, just mess). And two, I'd like to make a good impression on the potential renters because I really want my awesome neighbor to have good new neighbors when I leave.

And the awesome side effect of all this cleaning is that my house is clean! For once. Ta-da!!! It looks pretty awesome right now, and I wish I could find it in me to keep it this way on a daily basis. I yearn for this feeling of cleanliness in my life. I want to freeze time tonight so that it will stay this way forever. But I live with three boys. The oldest works all the time and doesn't have the time or energy to care about keeping the house up to my standard of cleanliness. The little one has a good collection of toy cars that are always spread around the house, and a collection of cardboard toys (made by his daddy and beloved above all things--think cardboard tube and paper ball used for playing baseball in the house) that are not necessarily the nicest things to look at, but that are also spread around the house at all times. The smallest boy has an enormous capacity to make messes and undo things at a super-human pace. I can hardly put things away these days because if he sees me putting anything away, it only reminds him of it's existence, and then he has to have it! And Presto...Undone!

And let's be honest, I'm no winner of medals for organization. I'm a piler, mostly of papers, but also of things I just don't want to deal with yet. This weekend, I cleaned up my piles and moved them somewhere else. I will probably forget where. I have a system for cleaning the house, but it generally gets muddled and thrown to the wind when my children decide not to cooperate with my schedule. Silly children! What are they thinking, demanding my time and energy?! I desperately wish I had the organizational skills of some of my friends. I admire their ability to keep their house (seemingly) spotless at all times. I imagine them being 100% in control of their lives and schedule, instead of feeling constant chaos like I do.

Tomorrow morning, I'm prepared to re-do my efforts in the morning after my kids get up and get out the toys I have put away. I'm fully prepared to quickly throw some things in the closet and close the door as my landlord and her camera knock on my door. But I guess for now, I will sit here in my quiet, clean house while my family is sleeping and soak it in.

The Haps

I have been so under-motivated to write on this blog. Have you noticed? Spiff stopped writing on the blog months ago. Have you noticed? I have. I miss him on here. But anyway, I have had a hard time thinking of things to write about, not that we haven't been busy. I just feel like I have said it all before. Spiff works a lot. I watch the kids. End of story.

Ok, well, I'll make an effort.

In the past month, Spiff has had one day off in the last 20. He just got done working 16 days straight. And not just half days, oh no. We're talking 16 days of 14-16 hours every day. He has been home literally just to sleep. This week, he saw his children for two hours on Monday afternoon, and then didn't see them again until Saturday morning. He is at the hospital by 5 a.m. and doesn't come home until 8 at night. Sheesh! I think what gets him through his ever-more-brutal-than-the-day-before days is this saying about Intern Year: "They can always hurt you more, but they can't stop the clock." We have about three months left.

Needless to say, the boys and I have spent a whole lot of time together the last little while. Spiff is usually gone during dinner and bedtime. I love my children, but I have to admit that my favorite days are the ones when I have successfully worn them both out so that they go to bed early and I have an evening to myself.

Gunner is in swimming lessons, and he loves it. I love it, too. He officially passed the Level 1-Pre Guppie class! My sister and I took our kids swimming the other day, and I enjoyed watching Gunner practice what he has learned in his classes. All on his own, I saw him blow bubbles, jump into the pool (only where it is very very very shallow), and practice moving his arms like the guy swimming laps in the deep end. I helped him practice a back float. It's pretty cool to watch him develop a useful skill. However, there were a couple little girls, not much older than Gunner, who were incredibly comfortable in the water. It was amazing to watch them cannonball or belly flop off the edge into the water, or throw a toy under water and dive down and get it. Amazing! I am so proud of the things Gunner has learned, but watching them made me realize how far he has to go. I want him to be that comfortable in the water. So, it's on to the Level 2 class in April!

Hobbes has turned into a full-time walker, and he is getting fast! It's amazing how quickly they get so darn fast! He still sort of wobbles around flat-footed and sort of like a drunk, but he does it quickly! It's funny. He is also such an Undo-er. He follows me around all day long taking things off shelves that I have just put away. He is still a quiet little guy. He doesn't say much at all. Occasionally he will call me "Maaaam" and he will reject something by saying, "Naaa." And he just started saying "Wow." He sticks his little lips out at far as they can go and says, "Wow-wow-wow-wow" over and over. He's so cute and pleasant most of the time and really has me wrapped around his finger.

I need to watch out because I think he hides his feisty side. He's much more of a daredevil than Gunner was as a baby. Hobbes is a climber. Spiff watched him climb from an upside-down laundry basket to a kitchen chair. He stopped him before he climbed onto the table. I walked into the bathroom one evening to find him on top of the toilet. He had used the step-stool to climb up onto the seat! In the back of my head was the idea that I should have grabbed the camera for some proof, but my heart stopped, and I just grabbed him and closed the bathroom door behind me. And then my heart started beating again.

And as for me, I have been entertaining myself during evenings alone while Spiff has been on night float by watching too much TV. I have been training for my marathon with a whole lot of help from family and friends, which is a subject that deserves it's own post. I have also been obsessing about finding a house to rent when we move in June. I have lost so much sleep the past two weeks worrying about making the right decision about where our family is going to live for the next three years. We found a great house, and it's an almost-done-deal. I'm praying that it works out. I'm praying that it's the right choice. I'm praying that I can finalize things so that I can stop obsessing and finally get some sleep.

That's my story, morning glory. That's a long story for not wanting to write one in the first place. I realize that. Spiff is on vacation this week! Hoorah! We all can't wait to spend some time with him.

The Biggest Losers

I forgot to tell one more little story about the things that Gunner says. This is a pretty good one, so brace yourselves.

I have been watching old seasons of The Biggest Loser on Netflix with Gunner. He doesn't nap anymore, and I sort of use it as his down time in the afternoons when I don't feel like doing anything else. Judge me, if you want, since it is TV, and it's not educational kid shows, but we have a good time together. He really enjoys it, too. When he has been playing really hard, and I can tell he is craving some down time, he requests that we pop some popcorn and watch "The Biggest Losers." (Yes, that's plural. Hee hee.)

So, two funny things about his watching this show. I turned it on one day, and he asked me, "Are the people flat yet? Or still fat?" And when he caught a glimpse of Bob & Jillian, he asked, "Are those the people who make them flat again?"

I love that it's a difference between fat and flat.

Also, my neighbor lent me her foam roller a while ago after running a hard set of intervals on her treadmill. It was painfully awesome to roll out my aches and pains, and it was a big hit with my kids, as well. When I was finally able to convince Gunner that it was Mommy's turn on the roller, and that he needed to give me some space, he sort of squatted down on the floor next to me, put his hand down on the floor with this intense look in his eye and said, "I know it hurts, Mommy, but you have to do it anyway."

I think I am creating the next generation's Biggest Loser Trainer, and I think he'll have an early understanding of how to bring the pain.

The Things He Says

The Talk:

Gunner's talk on Sunday went surprisingly well. His teacher had told me that he wanted a turn talking at the podium, and he seemed excited to do it. But I thought for sure that he would chicken out. All week long, he was insistent that he tell the story of Jesus being resurrected, but I got him to "write" a talk with me about King Benjamin and keeping the commandments.

On Sunday, he bravely got up in front of the primary, and he didn't even hesitate for a moment. I whispered in his ear, and he said, "King Benjamin...No, Mom, let's skip that part." (He did not say, Let's get to the good part about when Jesus was resurrected, but that's what I heard.) I cracked up, pulled it together, and together we delivered his talk. It was awesome, and I am still so proud.

The Possessive:

Okay, so he is actually growing out of this one, but I wish he wouldn't. I love it, and I have to record it before I forget. When he talks about something that belongs to someone else, it goes like this:

I want to go to Louis is house.

Can I play with Holly is toys?

Look, there are Hobbes is cars!

Did you see Isaac is daddy?

The Phrase:

He is also experimenting with phrases that we say all the time, even when he doesn't understand them. Some examples from the past few days:

(As we drove in the car) Step it on, Mom! Go fast!

(As he giggled at his brother) Hobbes is cracking me out!

(As he carried a paper from the car to the house) I don't want it to wind away!

The Finale for Today:

My niece spent the day with us on Friday. She and Gunner played and played happily together all day long, which I have to say was awesome beyond belief. While she was here, I overheard him say to her:

My dad will be strangely excited to know that you're here!

I will be strangely excited if these made you smile. He makes me giggle every day.

Gunner's First Primary Talk

Gunner is supposed to give his first talk in primary tomorrow. The theme we were given was Mosiah 2:22. I started to prep him for actually sitting down to write the talk, and we had this conversation.

Me: Do you remember the story of King Benjamin?

Gunner: I don't want to tell that story. I want to tell about when Jesus was resurrected.

M: Why do you want to tell that story instead?

G: Because I like it.

M: Oh, can you tell me the story?

G: I can't read it from the scriptures.

M: Can you remember what happens in the story? Can you tell it to me?

G: Well, Jesus was resurrected. That's all.

I don't know about you, but I think he's ready.

This is how a 3-year-old skis

Spiff gives him a push at the beginning, and then walks next to him while Gunner slides down the hill.

I like the part when Gunner says "Bye" to his daddy.

That's my kid! He dives in head first. Spiff said that as they pulled into the parking lot, Gunner said from the back seat, "Daddy, I want to go fast down that hill by myself."

I think that sums up their experience in a nutshell. Gunner was thrilled to be there, and he picked it up so fast! Spiff took him up the bunny hill ski lift before he realized that there was a useable bunny hill. Gunner told me later that the operator had to stop the lift just after they got on. One of his skis had fallen off his foot, and it was dangling from the toe-clip, which is a little device that connects the tips of the skis in order to keep them together.

Spiff quickly realized that it was difficult to manage a 3-year-old on skis while he was on his own skis. So they headed over to the "bunnier hill", which has a "magic carpet" to transport kids from the bottom to the top of the hill. Think of a long, uphill conveyor belt, which is way better than the rope tow I had to use as a kid. I could never hang onto that thing!

Gunner made Spiff ditch the toe-clip device. Apparently it was cramping his style. Spiff said that he handled the skis really well, and that he was skiing circles around some of the other little kids on the hill who were taking private lessons. He had an amazingly good attitude about it. He fell a lot, but he hopped right up. The equipment was big and heavy for him, but he tried his best. He wasn't intimidated at all. He was a complete natural. He laughed the whole time. It makes me wish we lived here permanently so that we could foster his enthusiasm for this sport.

He has a little lift ticket hanging on his coat now. And he has to tell everyone he sees that he went skiing "today" or "last more" or "last week." He really was the happiest little boy on earth.

Winter Updateland

Spiff had a great rotation in January. He did an elective in Pathology, and while he found the subject boring, the hours were great. Mon-Fri, 9:30-somewhere between noon and 3, with weekends off. We had four glorious weekends where he got to go to church with us. I also enjoyed four weeks of running without my kids. It felt quite luxurious, and the whole thing made me remember what it feels like to have a husband at home. Easy months always make it that much harder for all of us when he returns to Medicine Wards, when he's gone before the kids wake up and home after they go to bed. We miss him.

During his pathology month, Spiff studied for and took Step 3 of the board exam. We are still awaiting results, but no one in their right mind can wonder whether he passed it or not. It is exciting to have jumped one more hurdle on the road of becoming a licensed physician.

We traveled to Idaho for him to take the test. We stayed with my parents for the weekend, and then stayed with my brother's family for a couple days while Spiff took the test. I enjoyed seeing my family, and he enjoyed two fun-filled days of multiple-choice questions in a testing center on the Idaho State University campus. I also got to show Spiff a little of my college campus. It was so weird to be back there, having graduated and moved on almost 10 years ago. I felt old, but I have such great memories of my college days, beloved professors and friends, and it was a fun walk down memory lane. It feels like a different life from the one I have now, having grown and changed so much from when I was a college girl. And it was definitely strange having Spiff with me, since he was never a part of my life while I lived there.

In other news, Hobbes is walking more and more every day. He has slowly worked up the courage, and I'm sure that he will be a walking-boy 100% of the time in about a week. I love watching him hobble around. I love this milestone because it's so permanent. Unlike so many phases babies go through and skills they learn, walking is one that they never grow out of. And it seems to change them from a baby into a toddler, and they all the sudden seem so much more grown-up than they did the day before.

Also, Hobbes has figured out how to manage stairs. All on his own, he discovered that the best way to descend stairs is to go down backwards! I'm so proud of him. And I love the freedom that it gives me, not having to worry (so much) about him falling off every stair he encounters.

Gunner has started swimming lessons. I signed him up in a class with his 5-year-old cousin, neither having taken lessons before. I was worried about him not paying attention, or not respecting the teacher. I was worried that he would just run off and splash around in the pool, ignoring his group. But he is doing so well! He listens. He participates. He takes turns. He does what the teacher asks him to do. And best of all, he loves it! He is always excited to tell me afterwards what they worked on. They did "bobs" in yesterday's lesson, and he even did a demonstration for us by putting his head down and blowing into the air. I think we may have found a great outlet for all of his energy, and I love that he's learning a really useful life skill in the process.

And last, but not least, Spiff is off work today (his last day off for 10 days!!) and is up at the mountain with Gunner. He borrowed some child-sized ski gear from a friend, and is taking Gunner skiing for the first time. What a lucky little boy we have! He woke up to find ski gear in the living room, and had to immediately try it all on. Helmet, goggles, snow pants, boots and tiny little skis that have got to be among the cutest things I have seen. He was so excited. I think Spiff might have been just as excited at the prospect of taking his son skiing with him. I'm at home with the baby, anxiously awaiting news of their great skiing adventure.

Open Book

I should have born my testimony today at church. I almost did, but chickened out before I stood up. I don't do it nearly often enough because it scares me. I am a back-row-sitter in classes. I don't raise my hand to make comments because it makes me nervous. Being nervous makes me blush. The most benign of comments will cause my face and neck to turn the brightest shades of red, which embarrasses me...and so I turn even redder...which embarrasses me more. So I rarely make comments in classes, and I even more rarely bare my testimony in testimony meeting.

I should have today, though. I had a great experience to share with my congregation. I was given the opportunity this week to explain the basic doctrine of our church with a member of another faith. She is a solid, faithful member of her congregation, and she asked me about the LDS church out of curiosity, nothing more. And even knowing that I wasn't under pressure to impress her by the possibility of her conversion to the church, it was an experience that almost knocked me flat. I found myself fumbling over my words, stumbling over explanations of church history, and stuttering over trying to find a concise way to explain the basic doctrine.

I came away from the experience wondering why it was so hard for me. I have been a faithful member all my life and have attended church on a weekly basis. I should know the answer to that question backward and forward. I have decided that it comes down to a lack of preparation. I have spent the last three years wrangling my children during sacrament meeting. I have also spent three years not attending Sunday School and Relief Society meetings because of my callings serving in the primary and nursery. Both of things are important, but they don't necessarily give me the opportunity to fully fill my spiritual glass during church, as it were.

I also did not serve a mission. I have never had the opportunity to teach the gospel, nor have I really been taught how to properly share the principles with others, despite the fact that we are all encouraged to be daily member missionaries. I realize that the spirit will guide us in situations like these if we are spiritually in tune, but I can't necessarily say that I'm so in tune these days. Perhaps I was guided in my answers. Perhaps I said just what she needed to hear. That is a nice thought.

But the point I want to make is that now I feel like I need to study up on how to answer that question so that I will be prepared the next time I have an opportunity to share. I should go read up on the history of the church, memorize some dates, re-memorize the Articles of Faith that I learned as a kid in primary (20 years ago!), and really have a good answer ready.

And then I will wait, perhaps ten years for another opportunity like this to come along, and by then I will have forgotten my perfect answer. I will probably no longer be prepared, and will fumble through it once again. Sigh.

The thought that ran over and over through my mind while I sat in sacrament meeting this morning, trying to talk myself into getting up at the pulpit, was that while I hope to be prepared to testify of the truthfulness of the Gospel the next time I have an opportunity, I really hope to be prepared to meet my Savior when the time comes. Since we don't know when either of those events will happen, it is up to us to be as prepared as possible at all times.

That's a high standard to uphold. And the more I think of it, the more I realize how short I'm falling of my goal. What with the demands of the children, marathon training(!!!), and Spiff's schedule, I find my spiritual preparation to be fairly low on my priority list of things to get done every day.

We are all busy, and my question to you, my faithful readers, is this: How do you do it? How do you fill your glass and prepare on a daily basis, despite your many life demands? Anyone have any awesome little tricks on how to fit it all in, in the midst of the craziness that is all of our lives?

Hobbes is One

My little Hobbes is so darn cute. I love that kid. He turned one a couple weeks ago, and we celebrated by having his aunties and cousins over for lunch. I made him his own Smash Cake. It was actually a two-layer cake, and I gave him the top tier to smash, while we ate the bottom tier. I know people who think I'm crazy for making a big fancy cake for a one-year-old's birthday, but I get so excited to see the babies smash a cake that I can't help it. It's all about the cake for me. Besides that, I have been watching Cake Boss, and I really just wanted a chance to make a cake. They are not as easy as Buddy Valastro makes it look. Anyway, Hobbes did a good job destroying his cake. He didn't eat much of it, but he did happily smash it to bits.

Most of you saw the cake on FB already, but if you didn't, here it is. This picture makes me wish that I were actually good at making cakes, like all the bakers at Carlo's. My sister and I also wished that we had a team of sculptors at our bidding to make a little modeling-chocolate figurine of Hobbes to put on top of the cake. Sigh.

The day before the party, I had noticed that Hobbes was feeling awfully brave as he cruised around the house and was letting go of whatever he was holding on to in order to stand on his own, for just a moment. He'd do it with a smile when he noticed me looking at him. So I decided to show off his new skill to my sisters at his little party. I stood him up in front of me...and he walked to me!

Yes he did! He took his first steps at his first birthday party, with me, Spiff & Gunner, my sisters, brother-in-law, and my nieces watching him! What a great moment! I just filled in the section in his baby book about the baby's first steps, and it asks how we celebrated that moment. I think it's a weird question. I hugged him. And we cheered.

I took him to see the doctor for his one-year check-up. When the doctor walked in, he told me, "Well, they didn't send you home from the hospital with the wrong baby." I have heard people say that he looks more and more like me, although his stats prove that he takes after certain members of Spiff's family. He is in the 22nd percentile for weight, 80th for height, and the 98th for head circumference! He's not a very big baby, but he has a HUGE head. It's just room for lots of brains, I guess.

Also, he is a terrible eater these days. He's so so so picky! Gunner is finally eating decently well, and I had hoped for an easy eater with my second child. Not so. Apparently we raise picky eaters somehow. My cousin has reminded me of what a picky eater I was as a child, so I'm sure that this is just pay-back. But if it is, I don't think it's necessarily fair. I wasn't being a picky eater as a child out of spite, or hatred of the world, or of anyone for that matter. Why do my children have to follow in my footsteps by taking pickiness to the next level?

The kid won't eat rice, noodles, beans, meat of any kind, potatoes or any cooked vegetables. He usually eats bananas, but not always. He usually eats yogurt and applesauce, but not always. Oh, and he Will Not drink cow's milk. Will not. He gets excited to drink it when he sees the cup, but goes stiff when it gets in his mouth. And then it all dribbles out. Again and again. He won't even eat Cheerios with milk on them. What baby doesn't like milk? Seriously.

After going through food struggles with Gunner, I'm not terribly concerned about Hobbes. I know he will grow out of it. Either that, or he will eventually be old enough to reason with about food consequences. But it is still annoying every time I open a banana or a can of pears that all gets thrown on the floor because he doesn't want it This time. And I really don't like the question I always end up asking myself, "What in the world am I going to feed my baby?" This is one of those times when I wish I had a cook. It would be so nice to not have to worry about feeding my children sometimes.

Besides the eating thing, he is truly such a joy. He is finally sleeping well. He sleeps like a champ, actually. It was such a struggle to get to this point that I don't feel bad at all for bragging about it. He is sweet, curious, happy, goofy and cuddly. He is also very quiet. He does babble a bit, but he keeps it to himself mostly, which is quite a change from Gunner. I sure do love him, and I can't quite believe it has already been a year since he joined our family. My, how time flies.

FM in the AM

Do you ever drive around in the morning with the radio on in your car, wishing there was more music, less talk, while you listen to the DJs and their silly commentary? Ever wonder who would care what the morning DJs have to say and who would laugh at their jokes?

I have. And now I know.

Gunner, that's who.

He has really started listening to things lately. In sacrament meeting, he'll perk up during a talk and say, "He said Jesus loves us." When we're listening to music, he'll say, "He said Love in a hopeless place." When we're at the store, he'll hear the guy in front of us at the check stand and tell me, "He said How's your day."

We were listening in the car this morning, and the DJs were doing a prolonged joke. I missed the story behind it, but it was a whole bunch of ending to "The Last Time." The last time you walked your dog. The last time you fished for a boot. The last time you got smacked in the head by a shoe, etc. He was laughing so hard I thought he might cry. He requested "the joking one" on our drive home in the afternoon.

I guess the intended audience to morning talk on the radio is a three-year-old boy.

While We're Talking About Church Music...

This post exposes my music snobbery. Please look away if you're going to judge me, or if you're a lover of "LDS music" as a genre. I don't want to offend anyone. But...

I have been asked to play a piano solo in Sacrament Meeting next week. The lady asked me a couple weeks ago, so I have had a while to think about this. I have such a hard time playing piano solos in church because I can never figure out what to play. Every time I am asked to do this, I wonder why I don't have a collection of appropriate music in my personal music library to choose from. As I have thought about it this time, I have come to this sad conclusion: there is none.

I am a Classical pianist, so my library includes Classical piano music. This music is generally secular, even though many of the composers wrote fantastic sacred choral, vocal, or other instrumental pieces. Bach's life was spent as a church composer, but most of his keyboard music (including the Well-Tempered Clavier, the French and English Suites, and the Partitas) is secular. Handle wrote The Messiah for choir and orchestra, but wrote nothing sacred for the keyboard. Beethoven and Mozart were kings of the sonata. Chopin, Schumann, Schubert, Debussy, Poulenc...all wrote fabulous secular piano music, none of which I think are appropriate for sacrament meeting, since it is a sacred meeting of worship, and not a recital.

That leaves my choices for sacrament meeting limited to arrangements of hymns. I think that there are many lovely vocal and instrumental arrangements of hymns, but for some reason, it just doesn't translate well to the piano. The LDS Church Pop Genre has had way too much of an influence on "Mormon Composers", and they end up arranging hymns for piano by arpeggiating the accompaniment and modulating as a form of emotional manipulation. I can't stand it. To me, it screams "Hey, I'm a fraud of a composer, and I'm desperately trying to manipulate you into feeling something!"

I have tried to put my sadly negative feelings on this matter aside and pick something out that will do for this meeting. I even found a decent arrangement of a primary song that I don't hate. In the end, I have decided on one of Mendelssohn's Songs Without Words. It's a bit risky since it's not a hymn, but Spiff assures me that it will invite the spirit. I wonder if anyone will ask me afterwards what hymn I was playing?

If you know of any great piano solos to play in sacrament meeting, please enlighten me. I would love to have a nice library of beautiful, spiritual piano solos in my library. It would sure make this process easier for me the next time around.

Let's Talk About Primary Music

I am the Assistant Primary Chorister in our ward. Yes, I did say "Assistant." This ward we live in is lucky enough to have two primary choristers. It makes sense to me because the primary chorister job is a big one. One where you have to entertain a varying age-group of kids, and one that you're "on" every week of the year. It's also one that you have to basically pull off a primary program by yourself. Well, that's not so fair to say, since the presidency and the teachers do so much work. But really, a whole lot of it is on the shoulders of the chorister. So, it's nice to have a partner so that we don't have to teach singing time every week.

I have had this calling for about four months, teaching about every other week. It's a fairly natural calling for me, since I am a musician and was basically born to be a music teacher. That being said, coming up with interesting lesson plans for the group of kids is difficult. I want to be able to pull something together that is simple and reverent, yet fun and entertaining, in a reasonable (i.e. short) amount of prep time. But finding such an activity that will appeal to both young and older children alike is difficult, and I stress way too much about it every time it is my turn to teach.

For example, today I taught the new 2012 Primary Song, which is printed in the little handout booklet the general presidency gives to every ward. I found an idea on a blog that sounded easy, but found out that prepping it took waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much time. Then the more I did of it, the more her idea didn't make sense, and I wanted to do something else but had way too much time invested in it to start over. Super frustrating. I may or may not have stormed around the house at one point bemoaning the fact that none of the flashlights in our house had working batteries. (editor's note: the author did in fact have a snit re: batteries.)

This was my first Sunday teaching the junior and senior primary kids as separate groups (they had previously been combined). The lesson actually worked pretty well with the junior primary, although I found out that I had some pretty gaping holes in my lesson. I filled the holes before teaching the senior kids, got all geared up, and started my lesson. And do you know what? It is HARD to get senior primary kids to sing. The all stared at me with that look in their eyes that said, "You have got to be crazy if you think I'm going to sing this song." I continued with my 20-minute lesson with a huge fake smile on my face like it was the very best lesson anyone has ever done. At one point, one kid actually asked me, "Did you make this song up?" I showed them the printed music. No. I did not make up this song. Now sing! With a smile! And like it, dang it!!!

Now, I have two other problems. First, I don't like this new song. Here is a simplified version of the sheet music. I am not a fan of Janice Kapp Perry's music. This song, like many of her others, is uninteresting, the lyrics don't rhyme (how do you get away with rhyming "choose" and "too"?), and the melody is unmemorable, which will make it difficult for the kids to learn. I wish I liked it. I guess all children's songs are sweet when sung by our sweet little kids. But it's hard to be genuinely enthusiastic about teaching a song that you don't like. The kids sense it, and they call you out on it, and then eat you alive.

My second problem is that Gunner is now in Primary!!! He had his first day as a Sunbeam today. And he did okay. He didn't cry until (I heard later) he got to his classroom with his teachers and wanted his mom. Apparently he knocked over a chair in his anger. Yikes! How in the world do I teach that kid that it's okay to be with other adults than just me? And that it's never okay to just, oh, I don't know...Knock Over Chairs because you're mad!!! I'm a bit mortified about that.

But anyway, he's in Primary with me now. And I'm trying to lead the kids, keep all of their attention, get them all involved somehow, give turns to as many as possible, AND have my three-year-old hanging off of my arm now. During the 20 minutes of junior singing time today, Gunner was out of his chair no less than 20 times. "Mommy, I want to help you stick the paper up!" "Mommy, I want to help you lead!" "Mommy, I want my toys!" (I borrowed some of his toys as props today. I knew it was a bad decision when I did it. Putting the lesson together was a pain in the tookus, you see, so I did it anyway.) I'm surprised that my arm didn't fall off because of the amount of time he spent hanging off of it.

And that was week #1.

I guess I know what I'll be praying for in the weeks to come.

Not Enough

One of the nicest things about this one-year Intern Year is that we live in Utah long enough that I have been able to spend time with my family and some time with some of my oldest and dearest friends. In the last six months, I have:

Reconnected with my family. I have a weekly playdate with my sister and her daughter taking our kids to the zoo. I have had my nieces over for a sleepover. I have spent a couple weeks at my parents' house. I have enjoyed a holiday season filled with the best family traditions.

Seen my oldest friend. We met when we were five years old, and now she has five! children and is an amazing mom and dance teacher.

Had play dates with my favorite college roommate who's two boys are so much like Gunner that it kills me that we don't live next door. They could wrestle and play Lightning McQueen and Angry Birds together every day and be the happiest kids in the world.

Driven to CA to see some our favorite people from our medical school years.

Spent time on a regular basis with my favorite cousin and her awesome kids.

Made a new friend who is awesome enough to run an upcoming marathon with me.

Spent time over the holidays with friends from St. Louis who are visiting family in Utah. Our kids feel like they have gone home with each other. And it makes me miss the community of awesome people we lived with while Spiff was in medical school, who have now mostly scattered themselves around the country.

I feel so blessed to have the time and opportunity to spend some good and honest time with my family and with so many of my closest friends. It is truly wonderful to rekindle these relationships that have been long-distance for so long. (I moved away from this area nine years ago.) But as I think about this blessing, what I realize is that this year is not enough. The few short hours I get to spend with friends who are visiting, or with friends while I'm visiting Idaho, or the days I spend with my family are never going to be enough.

The more time I spend here, the harder it is going to be for me to move away again in six short months. In the back of my mind, I knew it would be this way when we moved here in June. I had been away for so long that I was used to long-distance. And now that I'm settled here and feel slightly at home, it's going to be so hard to turn these relationships back into long-distance ones.

So, I have this idea. It's a pretty good one, too. When I die, I expect that my own person Heaven will be a giant suburb where all of my favorite people, my family and all of my friends who I have known and loved throughout my life on earth, will all live by me and be my next-door neighbors. We will either all have connecting back yard gates, or whoever you need to be next door to you can be at any time. It will work because it's Heaven and because all things are possible in Heaven, right?

I sure do hope it's like that, or something equally awesome. I love my family and friends dearly, and since it's not possible to be with them always on earth, I hope to be able to earn the privilege to be with them always in the eternities.

Simple Sports

I love the simplicity of running. Good running gear is nice, but I love that all you really need to run is a good pair of running shoes. Compared to Spiff's other beloved sports, including biking, rowing and skiing that require a bare minimum of a large investment in order to get started, running seems like the most lovely, simple thing of the athletic world.

These days, however, here's what it takes for me to get out on even the shortest of runs:

My own running gear, including sunglasses, warm winter running pants, jacket, hat and gloves.

My two children, since Spiff is working all hours and they come with me, who both need to be fed and clothed before setting out

Double jogging stroller

Weather shield for the stroller

Coats and gloves for the kids

Blankets

Warmed rice bags for a little extra warmth in the 20 degree weather

Toys and occasionally food for the older one

And my awesome running partner, her little boy (with accompanying equipment mentioned above), and her Magic Garmin Watch to tell us how far and fast we're going.

That's a lot of stuff. It takes me at least 45 minutes to get ready to go for a 30-60 minute run.

Besides that, I have a wish list. I want my own treadmill. I want my own Magic Watch. I want my own Ipod (I know, right?! Who doesn't have an Ipod these days? Spiff has one that he uses at work, but I don't.). I want a new techie running cap and a strap-on-my-hand-while-I-run water bottle. I want new running shoes and socks. I want to register for a whole lot of events.

Some of these things are needs, and some of these will become needs when we move to Minnesota next year. But what this list boils down to is a whole lot of money invested into a sport that is supposed to be as simple and inexpensive as strapping on a pair of running shoes.

Very Christmas

Alright, so the Christmas Season is trucking along. With two weeks to go, I feel like I have made progress, but still have so many little things to finish up that I'm still completely overwhelmed. I've got my Christmas cards, but they need to be sent out. I have presents that need to be wrapped, some packages sent, but some that need to be sent. I have neighbor gifts to make and deliver. I have a few more presents to purchase. I wish that I could be super organized like my neighbor, Kalie, and have everything done already so that I could simply enjoy the activities of the season...stuff like this:

We decorated for Christmas just after Thanksgiving, and Gunner was so sad when I took his Thanksgiving window sticker turkey down. Then some amazing Christmas elves (thank you Mom and Auntie Mhana) sent him new fancy Christmas window stickers! We have the most festive window on the block.

We went to Temple Square last night. It never ceases to amaze me. The lights are overwhelmingly beautiful, and I love it, always. I also can't help but think about the manpower and hours of work that go into putting up and taking down that display every year. Wowzah!

We tried taking the boys to a live nativity the other night, but when we got there, the area was all parked up, and there was a line of people stretching several blocks down the street. We decided not to wait in line, drove around a bit, and ended up at the zoo, where they have an event called Zoo Lights. Most of the actual animals were asleep, but we walked around looking at neon animal displays. And.........Santa's Reindeer! They have real reindeer there! Very cool.

I had a small wrapping party at my house the other night. I got two whole presents wrapped, but a whole lot of talking to friends in.

We attended my sister's ward Christmas party, where Gunner got to sit on Santa's lap. When asked what he would like for Christmas, Gunner replied, "Christmas." Well, who wouldn't?!

Gunner is so excited about Christmas this year. He's enjoying all of our little family traditions. He wakes up every morning asking to open a box from our Playmobil Advent Calender. Then we have to turn on all of the Christmas lights. Then he wants to pull out an ornament on the felt advent calender my mom made for us. Then he has to find the stuffed Tomten, which is a Scandinavian folk character who guards our tree and hides every night. He loves it all so much that I'm sort of dreading the day when Hobbes cares about doing these fun things, too. Who would want to share such fun activities?! But that's a problem for another year.

Also, I finally have a few presents under our tree, and they are killing Gunner. Just killing him! He asks about 15 times a day if he can open them, and he just doesn't get the benefit of waiting and the concept of anticipation. We got a package of presents the other day from our Aunt, and he was so upset by not being able to open them that he stormed off saying, "I Hate presents. I want to throw the presents in the garbage!" So you see, I was incredibly grateful to Spiff's mom when her package arrived, and there was a present labeled, "To Gunner, Open Right Away." Best words ever! It was the Three Playmobil Wisemen and a Camel, an addition to our excellent Nativity Scene. Grammy, you really won Christmas this year!!!

And last for today, Gunner accompanied me to tithing settlement today, while Hobbes and Spiff were home sleeping. As we were leaving, Gunner wished the bishop a "Very Christmas!"

Very Christmas, everyone!

Turkey Trot

I ran my first ever Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving morning. I can't believe I have never done it before! There couldn't be a better way to show my gratitude to Heavenly Father for my healthy body than by running, just before cooking all day and then shoving it with tons of delicious food. Yes, I am grateful for food and health this season.

I'm also grateful for my 5K PR!!!
My time: 25:18 (Sixth in my age group). I think this is a 6-minute PR!
I ran with my sister, who came in at 25:45 (seventh in our age group). Very cool!

I loved it, and I think I'll finally join the masses and make this part of my Thanksgiving traditions.

Sunday Afternoon Agenda

Today was a long Sunday, with Spiff at work all day. The Sundays Spiff is working seem to drag on forever, and I have a hard time figuring out what to do to entertain my kids when going to a park or a store is out of the question. I got lucky today, though. I had a really awesome kid to keep me company. Here's how we spent the afternoon.

• I started to play the piano, and immediately had two boys wanting to play along.
• Then Gunner wanted to dance to the piano music, so he danced. Then he wanted me to dance with him.
• Dancing led to him getting his dancing dress-up on (which is a "pretty dress" that is really just one of my old shirts).
• It also led to me turning on some old clips of Dancing With the Stars dances, me "lifting" him gracefully off the couch (this kid has got some moves, let me tell you!), and him putting on his Robin (Batman's sidekick) suit on, so he could look like Helio Castroneves in a suit.
• Dressing up as Robin led him to dressing up as Batman himself, which led to him driving a Batmobile he created from a diaper box.
• Then he dressed up as a Super Fireman, which is a Fireman who sports a Red cape. He saved Hobbes and me from many a fire.
• But then there was the fire he couldn't save me from, and I got "sick". He made me lie down on the floor so he could nurse me back to health He was the sweetest care-taker. He gave me shots, medicine, and all of his most special toys to help me feel better. He also came to the hospital as a visitor to help me not be lonely.
• Having me sick on the floor led to him getting out all of the pillows in our house so that I would be comfortable. (Hobbes liked that one. He rolled around on the pillows laughing, like he was a millionaire rolling around on a pile of money.)
• When he helped me feel better, he got "sick" himself, and I was instructed to "feel him better." Good thing I had a great care-taker to teach me how to take of a sick person.

And that's how we spent our afternoon. He's a fun little kid to play with. Hobbes spent the day following him around, and there were some times when the two of them were both rolling on the floor laughing together. Goodness, I love seeing his imagination develop, and watching the relationship between these little brothers grow.

This is what I call Joy.

Fix-It Christmas

Okay, so I'm skipping the Thanksgiving post for now, and heading right on to Christmas. If you refuse to acknowledge Christmas until Thanksgiving is over, then I'll see you next week.

I will first admit that I'm not looking forward to buying gifts for my loved ones this year because I (once again) do not have any great ideas for any of them. I feel like this always sneaks up on me, and I always end up procrastinating it until I end up spending too much money on shipping right before Christmas. Either that or getting into a losing battle with a post office worker. Gift buying ends up being a big stressor for me. I don't know how to quickly come up with something great, that doesn't seem chintzy on a small budget. I'd love to get awesome things for the people I love, or do something lovely, heartfelt and homemade. But I don't have the time, money or talent to pull off anything great like that. Sigh. I guess I'll be praying for some inspiration.

Second, Spiff and I have decided not really to buy each other gifts this year. With a move coming up in June, and in an effort to keep the cost down and the level of "stuff" in our house to a minimum, we have come up with what we are calling "The Fix-It Christmas."

Instead of buying new things, we are spending any money we would spend on gifts fixing things that have been on a To-Fix list for months/years. We are upgrading things. And we are replacing things.

It's not elaborate. Little things, like my watch battery that hasn't worked for about a year and half. Spiff's heart-rate monitor battery that needs to be sent out to a special place to be replaced. New running shoes that I need for my upcoming marathon. Parts for the Yakima rack that we'll need for the move. Etc.

It sort of takes the surprise out of the gift-giving and receiving side of things, and it does seem sort of lame to get/give a watch battery for Christmas. But I feel a whole lot of peace with our little plan, knowing what's coming up in our lives, and knowing that we did something to minimize the chaos in our home. Besides that all of it will be done with money that we will need to spend anyway, so we might as well wrap it up and put a bow on it. Don't you think?

My Shadow

I have a permanent shadow these days that follows me around all day, in sunshine and rain. It is about three feet tall, talks constantly, and is named Gunner.

Seriously, I don't know what it is about this phase of his life, but he cannot seem to be more than two feet away from me at all times. If I am sitting on the couch, he is sitting next to me, asking me to read to him. If I am looking at the computer, he is on my lap asking me what I'm looking at. If I am making dinner, he is playing on the kitchen floor. If I am folding laundry, he is sitting on my bed. If I am interacting with Hobbes in any way, he is right there next to me, getting involved. If I am not carrying Hobbes, he wants me to carry him.

The funniest part is when I am doing chores and am moving from room to room. He sits at my feet on the bathroom rug while I do my hair. Then when I go downstairs to do some laundry, I hear, "MOM?! Where are you?!" I call back, "I'm downstairs," and the next thing I know, my shadow has found me and is resuming his game, again at my feet. We repeat this situation in every room all day long.

It is cute, albeit exhausting having him constantly under my feet. He has to win me up the stairs. He has to get to the door and open it before I do. He has climb out my car door and pop the trunk whenever we go anywhere. And did I mention the constant talking? This boy does not know how to be quiet. He has a constant stream of words, dictating the narrative of his life. Even the rare occasion of him "quietly reading a book to himself" is narrated. No wonder sitting quietly in church is such a struggle for him!

I keep wondering when he will get more independent, and if I will miss the days of my little talking shadow. I probably will.

...But not much. :)

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jog

We had a great trip to California. I loved seeing our friends, although seeing them makes me freshly miss them all over again. They are such good friends, and I love seeing our children together. Gunner played guns and wrestled with their 5-year-old the entire time we were there. He loved it. He also hugged their two girls any chance he got. I went running with my old running partner, we made cookies, took the kids trick or treating, carved pumpkins, played games, ate BBQ Ribs, and we even went on a date. Awesome. And totally worth the hours and hours of traveling and whining kids.

We have enjoyed the rest of Spiff's vacation week at home. He has gone mountain biking and skating, like he wanted. We have watched a lot of TV. We have relaxed, and I feel 100% refreshed, but somehow completely NOT ready for him to go back to work.

In other news:

We have experiences three seasons in one week. We have played in the Pacific Ocean and the beach, played in Fall leaves, and played in snow. Gunner has loved it. And so have I.

We came home from our trip to find that The Neighbors have moved. I guess I can check that one off the list of things to worry about.

I signed up for my first full marathon, coming up in May 2012. I'm excited to take my running to the next level, but I am also terrified! I don't know how I'm going to find the time to train, what with taking care of my kids and Spiff's busy schedule. But the good news is that my new running partner neighbor also signed up, so we'll be able to train together and support each other with our kids. So it's on to a Winter of cross-training, leading up to full-marathon training in the Spring! Wowzah!

Hobbes figured out how to sleep through the night, for approximately a week and half. He slept all night long during our entire trip! It was glorious! And now that we're home, we're sort of back to square one. Hopefully he'll remember quickly. He has learned how to pull himself up on things, to cruise around furniture, and he is getting so much more comfortable getting himself up and down and all around. It's super fun to see him be such a busy little guy.