Twin Boys

Sixteen years ago today we went in to the hospital for a 'routine' non-stress test, and were told that our littler twin's heart rate had dropped significantly.

"Looks like your going to have some babies today." the doctor informed us. He penciled us in during his lunch hour.

"Well, I guess this is it." I said, somewhat shocked, but resigned, as I lumbered toward the waiting hospital room.

"I need a drink." my husband commented. . . I couldn't tell if he understood what was happening or not. I think maybe he did.

"YOU need a drink. . . " I repeated incredulously. Seems like I chuckled or something.

I have no idea if we really knew what we were getting into that winter day, so long ago. I think we were in denial, but deep down, there it was. We were going to bring 2 little lives into the world. They would take their first breaths, say their first words, take their first steps, smile up at us with shining eyes. . . and then 5 minutes later, they'd be taking driver's ed. They're a sneeze away from graduation. On the verge of . . life.

How did this happen? So many images come to mind. It is a terrible dance. Childhood is so fleeting. . . . I understand. . . now.

"Mommy, will you read me a story?" echoes from the past. There's no going back. They've come and gone.

Sixteen. . . It honestly feels like someone is slowly accelerating our lives into 'fast forward', turning up the speed dial, like a race car in slow motion. . . I've learned over the years. . . There's no way to stop it. All we have is . . now.

President Gordon B. Hinckley

January 27^th, 2008 Sunday

Today Aleia gave a talk in Primary, Charlie and I said the prayers in Sacrament Meeting, and about 9-ish, Daddy called and told us that President Gordon B. Hinckley had passed away. Apparently my little sister Annie's former BYU roommate had sent her an email immediately after it was announced. Word spread like wildfire, kids texting and emailing each other, the news flying through the western states, the nation and the world. Yesterday, all the LDS kids -at least the ones who heard in time- in Utah, Idaho, Arizona, Nevada, and California, wore their Sunday best, to school, in honor of the memory of their beloved prophet. I wonder if it surprises President Hinckley at all to know that children and young people everywhere loved, respected, and revered him so much. I will admit that I shed more than a few tears at his passing. As joyous as it is that he lived such a wonderful, productive, inspiring life, that he left such an amazing, unbelievable legacy. . . we left here on earth will miss him, will feel a void of sorts, a powerful presence gone. A presence of good, an example of humility, of strength, of conviction. One of the most inspiring people that I will ever be privileged to know has moved on, and left us all better people for having known him. He has buoyed the hearts of the men and women of our faith and of the world, and he has strengthened and inspired the Youth. That, in today's tumultuous society, is an unfathomable achievement, with far reaching influence. I will ever be grateful, that I was blessed to live in the time of the LDS Prophet, the humble man, devoted husband and father, friend and brother, the Inspiration of the rising generation, my own children included, President Gordon B. Hinckley. He inspires me, personally, to do better, and to be better, as he frequently encouraged. My only regret is that I never got to shake his hand. I did, however, get to see him in person last Spring, at my brother's 2^nd BYU graduation, leading Vice President Richard Cheney into the Marriott Center forum amid thunderous applause. He brought the house down. A roar erupted from the crowd of tens of thousands that did not abate for several minutes, and then only at the quiet encouragement of those we so respect. Words were not necessary. I was overcome. I'll never forget that sound. . unabashed joy, reverence, exultation, the triumph of accomplishment . . . I want to read and own all of his works, his books, his publications. And not because of the applause. Because of his humble example, his legacy of courage, honor, dedication, and tireless service to the people of our church, and the world. We will miss his wit and wisdom, but we will benefit, the world over, from the heritage that he left us. I think that I, and my children, are, and always will be, better people for having ever known of that great man, gentle leader, and latter-day prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley. He was an amazing man. A living example of small and simple things bringing great things to fruition. The temples, the history, the love, the unwavering faith that he left us. All will be remembered.

Skating with Paul Oakenfold

My hubby is a big fan of Paul Oakenfold. I'm not even sure how to spell it. . . Evidently he's a pretty good DJ, or some such talent. When Charlie was in Germany last month he even thought about driving to Warsaw, Poland, to see this guy perform. Good grief. Anyway, apparently Oakenfold is gonna be here in Salt Lake this weekend, playing it up downtown somewhere. Problem is, we've already got plans. A previous engagement, if you will. I feel the need to quote one of my favorite lines from one of my favorite movies, The Princess Bride: "I, myself, am often surprised at life's little quirks. ." One can't help but smile. : )

Speaking of favorite movies, however, I feel a bit less inclined to smile, because just a few minutes ago my 15 month old baby boy decided to ice skate gracefully across our tile entryway, standing, I should point out, on 2 of my favorite DVD's, which were face down of course. Yeah. Resigned as usual, I just threw them away. There was no point in trying to see if they would play. . . Sigh. These are the types of days when you just have to take a deep, cleansing breath, and let it all go. . . right into file 13. Ugh.

Maybe I'll toss on some Paul Oakenfold and try to find my center. . . whatever that means.

Avatar and Marshmallow Wars

Avatar is a cute show, I will admit, but I'm hearing about it a bit more than I'd prefer. . . Oh brother. Really. Just the other day, my biggest boy, who is an obsessive fan of superheros, cartoons, etc, decided that it might be fun to tackle his little brother and color the Avatar's blue arrow tattoo all over him, with washable marker of course. Naturally. Interesting that it didn't wash off like 'washable' marker. . . . I really should have taken a picture . . . The 3 big boys laughing it up, whilst their younger, much smaller sibling dangled in the air by his ankles, giggling hysterically. I suppose they did do a very good job of drawing blue arrows down the backs of his legs. . They thought it would also be fun to shave his head like the Avatar cartoon, but I 'drew the line' right there . . . Then a couple of days later, mysteriously, Jeffy's bangs were suddenly way shorter than before, requiring me to give him quite a significant hair cut. Hmm. I wonder who put the idea into his head, chopping off a large chunk of his hair . . . Who could have told him were the scissors were stashed, way out of his reach. . . Who's gonna get his hair buzzed this very afternoon after school . . . heh heh heh, hee hee hee. Permit me an enraged, evil chuckle. ; ) His baby hair was so cute! Those punks are gonna catch it. What do Mommies know. . . ? : )

They are a lot of fun though, these crazy kids of mine. . . Especially during marshmallow wars. But wait, I shall explain . . At some fairly recent Scout Camp, some very gutsy leader person lead the boys in constructing 'marshmallow shooters' out of PVC pipe. Pretty cute idea, if you like spit-covered marshmallow goo all over your house, yard, etc. They get a big kick out of using Mama (that would be me) as cover, too. It's really quite entertaining when one heavily armed (bag of mini marshmallows) 200 pound young man ducks quickly behind you, yelling "Dive, punk!" to his grinning, thoroughly amused twin brother, who's lovin' it, and who dutifully dives behind the couch so fast that you see nothing but a split second flash of green coat and red hair. Luckily, he escaped, jumping into the kitchen and taking a shot at his bigger brother on the way, with a loud thpwop, (wet marshmallow hitting vinyl jacket) and a louder guffaw. . Thereby motivating said laddie # one to take off after him out the side door, around to the front of the house, and on into the snow lit night. I haven't seen that boy run that fast in a long time. . . I guess when you have the proper motivation. . . : )

Sigh. Ah, the joy that is my life. You really can't buy entertainment like this. . . Lot's of people try. . . but I don't have to. : )

p.s. Whoever thought up those marshmallow shooters is quite the genius. They're surprisingly effective and seriously accurate.

Strep Throat Mania

Both our girls contracted strep throat over Christmas vacation. How they managed to synchronize their schedules, I don't know. Our 7 yr old, Aleia, has picked it up 3 times in the last 6 weeks. She said this morning that she thought she had it again, and looking at her flushed cheeks and tired, bloodshot eyes, I didn't doubt her words. I drove her to the doctor, after dropping her little brother off at preschool, and laughed myself into hysterics listening to Glenn Beck's take on amnesia, God's gift to women who've given birth previously.

Of course, Lea's throat swab came up positive, AGAIN, and now they're telling us that she might be a 'carrier' of strep. This I've never heard of before. And to think that I thought I was pretty. . well informed, educated, if you will, about early childhood ailments. After all, I have been hanging around pediatrician's offices for quite a few years now. Apparently, sometimes the strep germs kinda hunker down there in the tonsils, where the antibiotics can't quite get to them, and then, the tonsils. . have to come out. Sigh. All of this, all of these . . bouts with whatever. . The medical bills are about killing us off. I probably shouldn't add up all of the times our kids have had ear infections, croup, stitches, pneumonia, broken noses, trips to the ER, bizarre hospitalizations, crunch fractures . . . Wow. I'm actually getting misty. . . Sniff, sniff. Warm smile. I wouldn't trade it. Such is the staff, I mean the stuff. . . of life. Some of my fondest memories are of softly lit hospital rooms, where I've been given the opportunity to hold close a tiny new companion, a small piece of my heart that somehow still beats outside of my body, a baby. The most beautiful of all the miracles of creation. So, Glenn, it is worth all the screaming, and the clawing . . . of your eyes out, all you men.

Medical . . . experiences . . are not always so bad. We understand, don't we girls. : ) Much love.

How Do You Do It?

People ask me how I do it with 7 kids. I tell them I don't. My house is not spotless, as it probably should be. Too many people . . . live here. My hands are full, and there is simply not enough time in the day. Some days I wonder if I'll end up in the nut farm. Some days I'd welcome the vacation time. I don't know where it will end, or how we'll all end up, but I'm pretty sure, when this crazy ride is over, that I'll feel like it was worth it. I mean really, what does it matter. . . all the diapers and the chaos and the mess and the headaches, if you're kids turn out . . . really okay. That's saying something here in today's society.

Charlie's angel Grandma Doris had a favorite saying that I think ended up on her gravestone. "One day at a time." We've all heard it before. . . but once again, when this wisdom was imparted to me, I wasn't paying attention, and I don't think that I fully understood the long-term benefits of this perspective. Patience is certainly involved, among other things. Sigh. She said "This is the best time of your life!" Unfortunately, I lacked the proper perspective. I couldn't see afar off. "Sure, whatever." I thought. I had 3 kids in diapers for 2 1/2 years straight, for the love of Pete! (How did that work?). . . Regardless, I often wish I could go back in time and relive those early days with our 'triplets', absorbing every moment, instead of wishing the time would go faster. Because, sadly, some days it does. . . and then it's over. . and they're gone. Ouch.

May we all remember to take one day at a time . . or some days, ten minutes at a time, the way Grandma Doris did, and never set at naught the quiet wisdom of the aged.

100 Years

The other day I was driving the kids to school, and I heard the most beautiful song on the radio. It was a song I'd heard a hundred times before, but had never really listened to. You know how it goes. : )

It was 100 Years, by 5 for Fighting. Wow. I looked up the lyrics online and was amazed at the number of people that this simple song has touched. It's really quite the work of art. It is achingly beautiful. . every note, every line. It's poetic in it's simplicity, shifting your perspective into clear and present focus, and you realize that this life is indeed, by definition, fleeting at best, and that time stops for no man, but is unrelenting and secure in it's resolve to move on. The video is quite possibly the most beautiful that I've ever seen, very simple and direct, but very symbolic and meaningful at the same time. At first glance, it looks like he's next to the ocean. . .



We have this poster, here at the house, that has a picture of a rock climber, holding his body up horizontally, halfway down the side of a sheer rock wall. He's using nothing more than his own brute strength, and it looks like something that very few people would consider possible, but yet there he is doing it. I guess it's all about perspective, It's all about how ya look at it, how people see things. Anyway, the song mentioned above reminded me once again of the shortness of life, and how every little thing we do and say. . . matters. We can take none of it back. The 'terrible dance' spoken of in A Christmas Carol. But it doesn't have to be terrible. . if we remember what's important. Everybody plays their own song, all intertwined, in harmony, to make up the music of life.

I'm so glad that I was not too busy, too distracted, to stop. . or at least slow down, and finally listen to the words of a song I've heard a hundred times before. To feel the music. : )

p.s. but it does not help, considering that I have 2 fifteen year old boys, to see the young kid in uniform. . .

Drill Sargent Mama

A friend of ours called recently, an Army Lieutenant, and during the course of the conversation, he mentioned that he now commands about a hundred and fifty men.

"Well, I command 7." I responded. "Sometimes 8, depending on the day." : )

Yes, it's true. Some would call me a Drill Sargent. For years now, if our boys got out of line, we'd have 'em do push ups, where ever they happened to be.You know, the old 'drop and give me twenty.' I didn't care if we were in Walmart, Wendy's, the park down the street. . whatever. Recently, I've gone a little soft, and haven't demanded such 'military' performance of our uncooperative offspring . . But what's amazing is, up until about a year ago, they'd still do 'em! : ) Push ups. Wow. Pretty wild.

Sometimes I wonder if my parenting style leaves something to be desired. . . ; )

Chocolate and Cheese

Have you ever noticed, during the Holidays, how you walk into a grocery store, and immediately encounter the inevitable, (and inviting), display of chocolate and cheese? And then, 5 minutes later, January hits, and suddenly, as if in some type of violent mood swing, the stores display nothing but diet drinks and power bars. What happened to the chocolate? Where did it go?

It's kind of funny, really, this whole 'New Year's resolution' thing. It's great for Coca-Cola . . . It cracks me up every year. The first of January, people everywhere jump back on the wagon, and swear they'll never touch the stuff, at least not until they've lost those holiday inches, by golly . . . and then round about Valentine's Day they're so famished and deprived that temptation starts getting to them, they rationalize that it's a holiday! darn it, the traditional day of sweets! . . . AND finally, come spring break, and Easter, everybody's back on the sauce, and life is good again. : ) Brother. Such silliness. Giggle giggle hee hee hee. It's so amusing to watch the same patterns over and over every year.

It's become so . . . predictable.

Maybe I'm getting old. . . Do we have any cheese?

The Beast is Back!

Yes my friends, it is true!

The beast is back.

Our Suburban is finally out of the shop. Can it be true? Hallelujah! I think angels are singing. It's been getting kind of squishy in my cop car, (white impala) trying to stuff friends in for a ride home after school. . .

But I'm having mixed feelings. . That thing is so BIG, I'm afraid it might run over somebody, do some major damage. . . I'm getting a little panicky, in fact. . . Is this really a good idea?

Our kids are approaching driving age. . DATING and driving age, they pointed out yesterday. Could this really be happening? Pardon my hysterical screaming. . . NOOOOOOOO!

The beast is back. . .

Guitar HERO?

My man Charlie picked up Guitar Hero 3 for the kids for Christmas. (I disapproved, naturally. Risque packaging.) Problem is, he's playing it more than they are! Our daughter Laena is starting to get frustrated. She thinks that maybe Daddy bought it for himself instead of her. I think she's just annoyed because he's cutting into her jam time. It sort of funny though, to see a 38 yr old man down there in the family room, rockin' out to whatever 'song' comes up next. He really could turn down the volume just a smidge. . . . sitting there in his Santa Claus hat, wailin' to what he claims are classic rock tunes. . . . he's certainly not Laena's guitar HERO. : ) Hee hee hee.

Family Size?

Brrrr! It's cold outside! I just got back from the grocery store, running errands, etc, and wow! It's downright freezing!
Looking for something for dinner, I picked up a box of Stauffer's ravioli w cheese and sauce, (well I sure hope so), and read the top line. Large. Family size. Were they kidding?! It's barely enough to feed one of our boys. . . no, It's barely enough to feed more than one of our boys, if you get my meaning. We had to bump it up a while ago to 'party size' lasagnas for family dinners and that's still not quite working for us. We really have to get 2. Of everything. Somebody always wants more. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. It reminds me of last Sunday. . My hubby said to me, when I complained that our son Clint kept us waiting before church, so he could get his sunglasses, in spite of the fact that it was snowing . . "Wow, honey! A fifteen year old boy, trying to look cool. . No way." : ) Kind of like a fifteen year old boy, eating you out of house and home. . But yikes! The neighbors weren't kidding. We DO have to bring it in by the truck load! Who'd a thunk? : ) It's the dawn of a new era. . . But not really. I have 6 brothers, so we've definitely been there before. : )

Rock Stars!

Incidentally, my brothers, Mark and Benj, both got their albums on iTunes and Rhapsody this past year. Mark's is really quite good, though kaleidoscopic in genre, ranging from Inspirational, to Contemporary, to Christian based instrumental. . . He actually wanted to be categorized Inspirational, but somehow ended up in the Christian Rock/Gospel. . . group. Benj, on the other hand, came up "Alternative", thereby getting a bit more attention, or so I hear. His album has more of a . . . sort of 'college kid givin' it a whirl', goofin' around kind of a feel to it. It's pretty cute. : )

Mark Tanner/Tomorrow
Benjamin Tanner/Cows Never Die

p.s. Mark, and bros Matthew and Benj, actually wrote and performed original music for Mark's wedding. It was so sweet! My baby brother singing to his girlypoo. Awww. : )

A New Cousin!

My little brother Mark got married last year to the lovely Sarah Hansen. They were married in Nauvoo, Illinois, which worked out great because she's from Iowa and he's from Missouri. Recently the happy couple announced that they are expecting a baby, due in the Spring! Yay! Another cousin! It's about time. By the time our kids get a bunch of cousins going, they'll all be in graduate school. : ) But I can't complain. I love babies! Babies make people smile. : )

Unfortunately, we didn't actually make it to the wedding. We were in the hospital having a baby ourselves the same weekend. . . great planning Mark! Just kidding. : ) I've never been very good at the whole timing thing. I'm just so happy that my brother's found such a cute girl, and now he'll have 2. : ) : ) : )

From Christmas to Cars

I am bummed. My son Eric is in the kitchen, cutting up onions and trying to make soup, while wearing ski goggles, but that's not why I'm bummed. . He thought that his eyes wouldn't water I he wore eye protection. The fumes are stinging my eyes from here.

Anyway, I'm a little down because Christmas is already over. We took the tree down yesterday, and it's not there now, sparkling in the window, when we drive up to the house. . . And it's not there when we walk in the door, reminding us of all things wonderful, and it's not there, glowing comfortingly at night from the living room when I get up to get a drink of water. . . . Ugh. Lame, lame, lame. . . Sigh. Our boys moved the furniture back into place a little too expeditiously, if you ask me. . . . and now we have to wait . . for an entire year, before Christmas is here again. Bleck.

If we didn't have 3 birthdays in the family, I would just hate January. Boy, aren't I a barrel o' laughs. . . .

"Honey, did you get crazy bread?" yells Charlie from the kitchen, where he's distributing our pathetic dinner from Shleazer's.
"Yeah, a little bit." I respond lethargically.
"Ya sure?" he called back. . .
"Yeah, I'm good." Blah, blah, blah. Mid-winter survival. We're taking it easy tonight. I feel like a shlep. I really should transition better from the glittering Holidays, into the bleakness of January. . . but I'm just not good at it.

Looks like we're gonna watch Jefferson's favorite movie, Cars, for the one billionth time. I suppose it is pretty cute. . . He wants to sit on my lap. Deep sigh. : ) So all is not lost.

Christmas will come again.

Ouch

Yesterday was fun. Our baby girl, Laenabug, made it into Concert Choir. She was sort of nervous about the audition, so I was relieved and really excited when she told us she'd made it. Way cool! : ) Sort of anti-climactic, though, when we pulled into the driveway after school, (her car is unregistered and out of commission), and discovered that a stray ice ball (of course thrown randomly by some excited school children) had shattered the back window of her car. Bizarre. The highs and lows that pervade our winter afternoons. . . ; ) She was upset. I'm not concerned at all. Insurance'll pick it up, or at least eat half of it. No big deal. If I had a nickel. . . : ) Seriously.

But on to the good stuff. I've been sadly neglecting my wifely/housewifely duties the last few days, (including blogging obviously), because of the unbelievably addicting new novel TwiLight. Ouch. I couldn't put it down. The story line is sooo very intense. . scintillating, amazingly intricate with hidden meanings/twists every other page. It's a non-stop wild vampire ride. LOOOVED it. Gimmee more. Bring it on. Of course nothing will get done around the house. . . but I've had enough with all the crazy, holiday rushing around garbage anyway. Who needs it. It's time to take some time off, and curl up with a good book. Not an easy feat to accomplish when you have a gaggle of kids to take care of, but what are ya gonna do. . . Ironically, I'll probably be more 'exhausted' after finishing the next book than I would have been after an afternoon of mad Christmas shopping during a blizzard. Wow, Baby.

People may say Twilight, etc is a vampire story, but it's actually a love story saga, cleverly twisted, entangled, intertwined with dark vampire/werewolf action. Chases, savage bloody fighting, but still amazingly clean. Again, wow. How does she do it? If I ever get to meet this Stephenie Meyer girl, I will feel privileged indeed. : ) It's an absolute art form, the intense anticipation/apprehension you feel when you throw yourself into this very yummy story of hers. Oh! And p.s. they're making a movie out of it, the way they do with every good book, and Baby, I'm buying tickets. OH yeah. Permit me a delighted, wicked chuckle. : ) HA ha ha ha ha. Of course my husband tossed me one of those semi-sarcastic "Maybe you could put the book down and take care of your FAMILY. . " complete with dirty look, last night.

Ouch. We'll see. . . . ; )