Ruining A Good Thing

I may have overreacted when missing Seth get off the bus after last Thursday's track meet.

We had been texting each other for an hour about his track meet so he obviously had his phone. I had also received a text only 5 minutes before they pulled into the parking lot of the middle school saying he was sorry Daniel was being so fussy after I texted him to hustle so that I could get Daniel out of his carseat and into bed. That is why when it seemed every single kid got off the bus and walked over to their parents' cars and there was no Seth, I was flabbergasted. Where was he?

I got on the now empty bus when the parking lot started to empty and told the bus driver that my child was not there. He informed me that they did make one stop earlier, about a 10 minute drive east of the middle school, to accommodate families that lived out there from having to drive all the way into the school. Even though I had never heard about that optional drop-off and Seth hadn't texted me in his last text that he had gotten off, my mind raced that maybe he thought he was making my life easier by getting off there instead. I called his phone. No answer. I called it again. No answer. I texted him. No response. The worst feeling spread throughout my inside. I screeched out of that parking lot like a mother possessed.

You see, earlier in the week, I noticed some odd behavior on my blog statcounter. Someone with an IP address in Riverton, Utah visited my blog. Normally, a Utah address wouldn't even get an eye bat but this particular visitor had like 80 hits in one hour. I followed the trail of hyperlinks to see what was so interesting to this visitor to not only visit but to click on picture after picture after picture.

They were all pictures of Seth.

I knew something was off but tried not to panic. Even though I don't know anyone in Riverton, Utah, I wondered if it might be an old friend of mine who knew Seth when he was younger and was interested in his growth and age progression. But, that didn't seem right. Why wouldn't someone like that leave a comment or click on other pictures, like ones which include me or any of the other kids?

The same visitor visited again the next evening and the behavior was the same. A long visit with lots of hits - 90% of them pictures of Seth. This was a week ago and I've been totally blog paralyzed. Some creep is stalking Seth.

I suppose that's where my mind led me on Thursday. I imagined him getting off a bus and someone either grabbing him or persuading him to get in a car. The day before, the local newspaper had an article about draining a lake in search of the body of a missing 13 year-old boy who disappeared last Thanksgiving and has never been found. In the dark, I raced 20 mph faster than the posted speed limit to get to that other drop-off, all the while redialing Seth's cell phone. Once, as I flew up the highway, my phone alerted me to a call from him. I answered and it was mute. We were connected but I got no response. I was screaming into the phone by this time, shouting, "WHERE ARE YOU?!" and "PLEASE SAY SOMETHING!" and Sam and Henry started to cry. I wish I could have acted more calmly for their scared little sakes but I felt terrified and couldn't deny it. Finally, about a minute before I arrived at where I hoped/wished/thought he might be, I got another call from him.

"Mom?"

"WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"I'm at the school waiting for you. Where are you?"

The rest of the conversation didn't go so well.

I was relieved but I was also freaked-out angry. Seth is nothing if not hyper sensitive to criticism and yelling and he shut down. Apparently, he got off the bus and went right into the school to change out of his track clothes and back into his school clothes. None of the other athletes did this so I have no idea why he so urgently needed to change without word or text to me and the way the bus had pulled up to the school and where I was parked, I did not see him do this. I imagine he was too busy changing to pick up any of my 20 calls or he had his phone on silent or...who knows. I was relieved. I am relieved. It is horrible to imagine the worst thing possible.

And I don't think I would have, at least not so immediately and emotionally, had Riverton, Utah not already put me on high alert. For this reason I say, "Riverton. You suck!"

Whoever this person is visited again two nights ago and did the same exact thing and I am done. I have no desire to post anything other than an angry wish that this person would show some sense and decency and either tell me who you are and why you find Seth so fascinating or go away. Far away. Either way, there will be no more open posts about any of my kids. There will be no more open posts of any kind. I'm making my blog private and maybe I'll blog again. But maybe not. I am really disturbed and angry.

My sister said it best when I told her about this. She said, "Wow. One person really can ruin a good thing." She's right. Blogging has been such a joy and "good thing" for me. I have made incredible friends. I have shared and thought and learned and become a better writer and created a personal history and I don't want to stop. But, now I do. Because a threat has ruined something I loved. I have no peace of mind anymore. I just can't imagine any reason that isn't creepy why one person would repeatedly visit a blog and peruse pictures of my 13 year-old son.

Thinking about the horrific events in Boston two weeks ago have made me flip/flop several times about this decision. On the one hand, I want to defy the personal terror. I won't let one disturbing person take away a hobby I enjoy! On the other hand, it is really dumb for me as a parent to ignore this. I do have that IP address, however and after seeing the swift and able detective work when it came to pictures and technology, I am warning you, creep, that you can be identified. So quit it. Be a better person.

If, perhaps, it is you who have been looking at pictures of Seth and you have a legitimate reason for doing so and you are embarrassed by my manifesto, please let me know. I will try to be reasonable.

For other readers of mine, I love you. I do. I am so glad you have visited my blog and let me share to an audience, which always made things more interesting for me. You can email me if you'd like to continue reading and I know and trust you or even if I don't know you but trust you. lucyhj4302@gmail.com

Riverton, Utah: You are not invited.

Adieu.

Book Review #12 - The Round House

Having only read Erdich's book, Shadow Tag, previously, my expectations were low and cautious as I began her National Book Award winner The Round House.  I'm glad I tried again because The Round House is pretty worthy of its hype. I didn't love it because I felt it unnecessarily crude at times as well as curiously infuriating but there is no denying the craftsmanship of the writing - from the weaving of a mystery, coming of age and folklore - to its scope of highlighting the unique problems of the Native American tribal justice. Even though it fell short of becoming a favorite of mine, reading this book brought light to ignorance and made me care about fictitious characters, hallmarks of worthy books, in my opinion.

As for my gripes, the protaganist, Joe, is a 13 year old boy who sometimes seems 13, sometimes 8 and sometimes 20. I know that age can be difficult to capture.  Heck, I have a 13 year old so I get it. But his behavior was so peculiar and unpredictable. Still, his world was ripped apart with the violent crime against his mother and the stress and tension it created within his once peaceful home. There were many times throughout the novel that I felt irritated and impatient with Erdich for taking me on another teenage escapade filled with all the language and crassness of boys in groups. Those events eventually contribute to the heartbreaking finale but it was not very pleasant to be repeatedly treated to what a boy thinks about breasts, dirt bikes, beer and food. Maybe I'd have given this book five stars had Erdich's 13 year old been a bit more virtuous:-)

This is compelling literature about contemporary Native American life. It corrected more than one stereotype of mine. Rich with symbolism, this is the kind of book that should be read.

A right on Hereford, and a left on Boylston:A Letter About Boston

Written by Jay and posted with permission

April 16, 2013.
A letter to my boys:
So that someday you will understand…

A right on Hereford, and a left on Boylston…

On Monday, April 15, 2013, I changed why I run.

On that day, terrorists detonated homemade bombs on the sidewalks of Boylston Street as runners finished the Boston Marathon. The bombs were planted near the finish line, and were designed to inflict the most damage on innocent spectators and contestants.

The second of two bombs exploded directly across the street from where your mom, Seth and Sam stood three years ago, cheering me on to my first Boston finish.

I have had a love affair with the Boston marathon for nearly my whole life. I read about the heroics of Alberto Salazar winning when I was only 8 years old. Every year, I read with increasing interest and stronger desires to join the throng on the hallowed streets from Hopkinton to Boston.

I first tried to qualify in 1998, but fell short. I tried again in 1999, but was even slower. I gave up marathon running, deciding that a Boston run was not in my future, and focused instead on starting my family and completing medical school and residency.

After 14 years of training, three boys, some disheartening personal experiences and two frustrating illnesses, I started running seriously again. I ran to restore some dignity in my personal life.

Sam, your shock at learning that I had run a marathon before was a big motivation. I wanted you to SEE me run a marathon. And remember it.
That soon changed. I wanted you to see me run BOSTON, and remember it. I trained longer and faster and harder. I know it took away time from you. But I was stricken with a Boston fever.

I was thrilled, and relieved, in the fall of 2009, when I qualified for Boston by several minutes. Finally, a major life goal achieved!!! Charles River, here I come. Boylston Street, here I come.

Running my first Boston marathon in 2010 was almost an out of body experience. I tried to soak the whole experience in. Scenes play back in my mind like a trailer for a personal movie. Riding the bus to Hopkinton, and waiting for the gun to fire at the starting line across from the little white church. The biker gang in front of the bar (there is nothing better than being cheered on by heavily bearded and tattooed men and women (yes, bearded women) in leather chaps)! To the shrieking tunnel of college girls in front of Wellesley College with their signs screaming “Kiss Me” (okay, I did sneak a peck on the cheek of one girl – because I thought I might not ever get another chance, and I’d regret it if I didn’t. She wasn’t anywhere near as good looking as your mom, though!). To the right hand turn at the Lower Newton Falls Fire Station, and starting up the first of not one, but three separate Heartbreak Hills that ascend Newton. Cresting as I ran by Boston College, being heavily cheered by heavily drunk college guys (these guys are way to drunk for 11 AM). Descending into Brookline, and finally seeing that CITGO sign in the distance. Seeing it, but never quite reaching it. Seeing it and knowing that it is at mile 24. When is that sign going to get here? Who put up that stupid sign, anyway? Is that really the right sign? And then finally passing the sign, crossing under the highway, and then the most blessed two turns in all of distance running:

A RIGHT ON HEREFORD, AND A LEFT ON BOYLSTON

Turns so sacred that they actually sell t-shirts with those words printed on the back. Turns where the sound of the crowd actually seems to lift you off of your feet and push you from behind towards the finish line. Cheering, clapping, bells ringing. It is like the whole world is there to watch you finish.

And unlike almost every other sporting event, there are no boos. No catcalls. No references to new glasses for the referees. No wishing that the other guy will fall or fail. No jeering. No negativity. Strangers running with strangers clasp hands because you did it. Stronger finishers encourage the injured. Signs everywhere explode with messages of inspiration. Go mom. Go dad. Go son. Go Bill or Jane or Frederico.

It is just your cramping calves, twitching hamstrings, and tens of thousands of Bostonians, Americans and foreigners propelling you to finish. How anyone can run down Boylston Street with dry eyes is a mystery to me.

Tears were already flowing when I saw you with your mom in front of Lord and Taylor’s. Yes, that Lord and Taylor’s. The one across the street from the second bomb. Seeing you, hugging you and giving you a high five made every one of those previous 26 miles worth it. Reuniting with you after the finish line, with that heavy metal around my neck, made me proud to be your dad. And I think you were a little bit proud of me. I hoped that you would always remember that day. And that your dad finished Boston. And that Boylston Street is a special place. A place to be revered and treasured. A place unlike any other in the world.

I went back to Boston in 2011, but without my personal fan club to cheer me one. Because I was alone, I noticed even more than before, how much the people of Boston and surrounding areas supported the marathon runners. The number of spectators is amazing. The cheering is continuous and incessant for 26.2 miles. The signs, extra water bottles, messages written on the road in chalk; everything about the race screams loudly how much Boston loves their marathon. And how much the marathoners love Boston. I think it was that crowd that pushed me onward. Onward to break 3 hours for the first time. Another goal I thought I might never achieve.

That is why what happened on April 15, 2013, was such a shock and personal devastation to me. I was crushed for the people of Boston. Crushed for the race that I love. But disturbed that someone or someones wanted to change the most special street in Boston. Someone wanted to take Boylston Street from us.

And Boylston Street is a special street. There have been more cheers on that street than perhaps any other. Personal triumphs, joyful reunions, tearful struggles, people helping strangers, dogged determination, fist-pumping elation, and weary completion are all witnessed on Boylston Street. Everything that is positive about humanity is found there. And none of the negative.

Until last Monday. When two bombs blew the innocence and joy of Boylston Street almost off the map. Almost.

Tragically, those terrible bombs did end the lives of three. Martin Richard, age 8, reminds me in many ways of you boys. Smiling. Wearing an Under Armour hoodie. Cheering on strangers running by, because that is what you do on Boylston Street.

Krystle Campbell, age 29, was there to cheer on friends, like she had done almost every year since she was a little girl.

And Lu Lingzi, a graduate student from China at Boston University studying math and statistics, there with friends just to take in the spectacle that is Boylston Street.

All three had their bright futures tragically dimmed.

As I went to bed Monday night, before I knew all of the details we later discovered, I thought to myself, “I need to go back to Boylston. My kids need to go back to Boylston”.

The next morning, your mom said to me, “I think you should run Boston again next year.”

I checked the website. My last marathon in Denver still meets the Boston qualifying standards by 5 minutes. Registration opens up in September. I have until then to try for a better qualifying time so that I can increase my chances of making it in. I’m going to give it everything I’ve got so that next year I can make…

A RIGHT ON HEREFORD, AND A LEFT ON BOYLSTON

I hope you will be there to cheer me on. On Boylston Street. By the Lord and Taylor’s. And I hope that you soak in the cheers. The American flags that I’m sure will be waving. The Boston t-shirts. The Red Sox jackets. The positive wave of humanity crushing the weak will of terrorism. The triumph of runner, spectator, official as we complete another Boston.

I’ll be thinking of you as I climb Heartbreak Hill(s). But my heart won’t be breaking. I know you’ll be on Boylston Street. Cheering on the elite winners, surrounded by strength. Because I know that we are strong. Our family is strong. Our country is strong. Our faith is strong.

This world might be scary at times. There are people that do things that we don’t understand. There are evil people that try to rob our innocence and steal our victories. There are places to avoid. Places to be scared. Places to wonder if we’ll make it back.
But Boylston Street is not that place. And I will not let terrorists or anyone else turn such a positive place into a place that should be feared or shunned.

And so, now, I run for Boylston Street. Next year, we will return to claim that street back. I’ll run down it. You’ll stand on the sidewalk among strangers and feel confidence, not fear. You’ll hear cheers, not boos. We’ll claim it back for runners. For cheerleaders. For supporters. For friends. For families. For the Johnsons. For Boston. For America. For all that is good in humanity.

A RIGHT ON HEREFORD, AND A LEFT ON BOYLSTON!!!

Book Review #11 - To Say Nothing of the Dog

Sometimes, not always and not really all that often, I read a book without reading the book jacket summary or anything about it on Goodreads. For some reason, perhaps the small print on this small paperback, I simply relied that it was a favorite of a friend of mine, was reportedly funny (I love funny books) and its title and author seemed British. It's a horrible and undoubtedly untrue stereotype but there is something inherently more "classy" about a British comedy compared to an American one.

Why in the world I assumed Connie Willis was a British male I have no idea, but it turns out SHE is American, born and living in Colorado and is a major science fiction author. These realizations set me back a bit when I learned that To Say Nothing of the Dog involved time travel, a whole lot of details about historical wars, literature I had not read and an exhausting, book long search for a repeatedly described bird stump that I still could never accurately visualize or imagine because I have no idea what a bird stump is. It was set in Great Britain so maybe I need to add to my flawed sterotype that brits put things weird and ugly things for birds to land on inside their great cathedrals. Whether this adds to their class or humor, I have no idea.

Regardless of my ignorance, I still found this story to be complex, engaging, confusing, entertaining and very, very funny. I loved the characters - extreme and one sided as Willis portrayed them. It's not a particularly easy book to read and I admit that reading a few summaries would have helped a great deal in my ability to get into this book at its beginning but I'm glad I read it. Combine Back To The Future with Time Traveler's Wife and you'll be head scratching and smiling at the same time.

Book Review #10 - Where You'd Go, Bernadette?

I saw this in paperback at Sam's Club the other day and realized it must have become an "it" book. I remembered that I loved it and that, so far, almost no one that I know that has read it since has liked it nearly as well as I did and so I wanted to come back and defend or at least explain my "it was amazing" rating.

I think every once in a while, a book comes a long that just resonates with certain readers. Maybe it's the message that rings true or a character that helps us understand ourselves or someone else a little better. Whatever it is, there was a connection between myself and this book and an almost electric current ran between my hands and its pages while I read.

I think it likely due to the fact that this woman, Bernadette, saw the ridiculous all around her. Sure, a cheery person will see Bernadette's point of view as critical and unhelpful, but I felt myself nodding and laughing when she described the overzealousness and competitiveness of school mom volunteers, the futility of cooking and shopping, the absurdity of living in Seattle - from its weather, streets, architecture, hair care, language, diet, style and recreation , the prejudice of loving your own child above all the rest and the simultaneously hilarious and depressing awareness of knowing you are the biggest problem of all.

As far as plots go...whatever. I didn't read this to find out what happened to Bernadette the day her husband staged an intervention to commit her to a mental hospital and she disappeared. The plausibility of sneaking onto ships in Antarctica and a fifteen year old solving it all isn't very likely. As far as uplifting material goes...I get that it's dark. Bernadette really is suffering and it's undoubtedly unfair to laugh at/with a woman who on good days hides dirty dishes in drawers and on bad days causes full on mudslides which result in the destruction of her annoying neighbor's house.

In spite of my awareness that this book won't be everybody's cup of delicious hot cocoa, I found the satire, writing, pacing, morale, and, above all, character of Bernadette to be the most fun I've read in a while. Maria Semple - I think you get me. I'm glad I'm not nearly as crazy as Bernadette but I'm so glad I got to vent a little bit through her. No worries though, if this isn't your thing. You you read this, you'll see the humor in that last sentence. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Spring Break 2013

Like a lot of people in the western United States, our spring break was much colder than we had hoped it would be. Originally, I had grand designs for our week off but once I started considering money, single parenting, and just plain ol' effort, I scaled way back and decided to simply stick around in Utah for a few days.  It was fun but it was cold! I'm not one of those people who hates the cold. I appreciate winter in its time and place but I did not want 30 degree temps in April.

I should have been more ambitious with our daily activities but sometimes it feels like we have played tourist in the Salt Lake Area too many times. I opted against doing Temple Square and museums are a nightmare with a one year old so that left me with what I thought were plenty of "amusement" type places like trampoline parks and arcades. Sadly, a lot of those places don't open until 3 or 4 in the afternoon which surprised me considering the number of schools in the area that participate in a year-round schedule as well as a larger than average number who home school. None of that research was discovered until later Monday morning which left us with shopping. Ugh.

I am not a shopper but I do think it's fun to get good deals. In my head, I had thought we'd start with the boys, get their needs and wants taken care of and then I could hit Kohls and Old Navy and maybe even a church distribution center. Things didn't go well at our first stop, Scheels. Why any company wants to spend that kind of money on real estate, heating and lighting to sell sports equipment is beyond me. I predict that business will go under in less than a decade. None of my kids wanted to ride the ferris wheel. Sam and Henry had a fun enough time in the climbing area with Daniel but they can do that in McDonalds, for crying out loud. Seth and I started to argue about what I was and was not going to buy. Honestly, that boy worries me with how much he likes to shop and spend on silly sports stuff.  How many socks do you really need? It all started with a difference of opinion about basketball shorts and escalated over some KD Nike wear and we eventually left the shop without him getting anything and he didn't speak to me for the rest of the day. Fun!

I abandoned all further shopping plans and sought refuge at my SIL Kelly's house and visited with her and my mother in law for a few hours.  Sam got a sleep over with his cousin, Matt, and the other boys and I went back to my sisters' place for dinner and the NCAA championship game. Sarah and I missed the first half because we went to a fabulous Zumba class (most fun I've ever had. It wasn't even working out even though I was dying of sweat and shortness of breath. I just felt like a latin dancing goddess as long as I didn't look in the mirror). We got back home in time to see the second half and Seth apologized to me for his earlier behavior. I have a feeling Aunt Maureen had some words with him:)



This is a funny video if you know Seth. Sarah and I had just finished doing our one minute plank which has been a daily goal, and Seth started talking smack and so I challenged him to do a five minute plank. He said he'd do it for five dollars and after our rough day, I thought it'd be good to be friends again. Plus...five dollars! He could buy something without asking me! (He ended up losing the five dollars sometime the next day. Sigh). Anyways, you have to watch the last 10 seconds. Seth's last line is perfect, even if his plank form is not (the first two minutes, he was much more flat as a board. But, I remember my trainer always telling me if you need to "rest" during your plank, to point your butt up rather than go down on your knees. So, I used the same criteria for Seth).

I knew Day 2 couldn't be as painful as Day 1 so after picking Sam up at Matt's house, I told Kelly that we were going to go to Boondocks, an amusement place with laser tag, arcade games, go carts, mini golf etc, and she came with us which made it so much more fun for my kids. We stayed there for hours and even though it was a form of auditory torture for me and still too cold for the kids to enjoy any of the outdoor activities, I felt like a more successful Spring Break Mom.



It was Twelve Buck Tuesday so all the arcade games were free with that admission price. I didn't pay that for Daniel but since all you had to do was press "start" on these types of games, he got to actually play instead of just sit on the chair. I think it kind of freaked him out when the steering wheel started to shake.



These four boys had a lot of fun. I wish I could have seen them play laser tag together, which they did 4 different times. Even Sara went to play with them.



Kelly was a basketball star back in her high school days so she and Seth had some fun competitions. Annoyingly, these games were not included in the $12 admission price so I had to buy tokens as well. It was pretty much the only game Seth wanted to play.




But, Sam wanted to play too.



Henry played the smaller version.



This isn't a very clear picture but Kate was adorable with Daniel. She took him to the top of the climbing structure several times so he could slide down the slide. This is them coming down. You can see Daniel on his stomach. Kate and Sara both have such fun personalities and they both exhibit sides of their mom. Kate seemed to inherit her mother's love of nurturing and mothering, and Sara is all of the spitfire and spunk and daring, which is totally Kelly as well.



That night was the main attraction: a Utah Jazz versus Oklahoma City Thunder basketball game. Maureen kept Henry and Daniel with her and took them to Carl's Jr., which, in Henry's mind, was just as fun for them, and Sarah, Sam, Seth and I went to the game. It was a really fun night. We cheered for the Thunder, which made us a tad less popular with the crowd, but it was really fun to see Kevin Durant play. I am not an NBA fan. Before this year, I haven't watched a game in at least a decade. But, it's something to care about what your kids care about and both Sam and Seth love basketball and know who all these players are and why they are good and I could see it. Durant is really good. He seems like a good guy too. I hope he continues to be. Having sports figures be your kids' role models seems a sure set up for future disappointment but so far, so good.




We got there plenty early to seem the team come out from the tunnel but, as you can tell from my picture, we didn't really have the best spots.



Warm ups. That's KD shooting a jump shot.



I had to beg and plead to convince Seth to take this picture. KD is sitting on the bench during part of warm ups and I really wanted one of them in the same picture. Seth thought I was being lame.



How a 6 ft 9 guy can be so good at dribbling, shooting, passing, rebounding etc is quite remarkable.





Somebody's going to get that rebound.  Westbrook got it.



KD drives to the basket.



Aunt Sarah and Seth.



Me and my boys.



One of the few dunks. This was not a very explosive game.



Time out

Day 3 was supposed to be spent playing in Moab. I drive through Moab about 8 times a year and I never stop! Maybe at the Wendy's or Maverick station but I see all these people who make it their destination and I wanted to say, "We've done that!" So, I had planned on a family hike in Arches and a Jeep Tour later on but it was so cold! 47 degrees as we drove through so we cancelled it all. Drove right on through.  Didn't even stop for a refreshing beverage. Someday, I am determined to "go to Moab" but not yet. It's got to be warmer than that for me to brave hiking with 4 kids.

We were home for the rest of the week. Seth's birthday was on Day 4 and I've already posted about that and Days 5 and 6 were really spent doing yard work. So, it probably won't go down as the most fun Spring Break ever but it'll do. We all literally had a break from our routines in the spring so, technically, it counts:)

A Two-Wheel Rider

Poor Henry. He's been wanting to try his bike without training wheels for at least a year but he always seemed to mention it when Jay was gone or at the end of the day. Saturday turned into the perfect day for Henry to finally get his wish. Jay took the training wheels off and it was much scarier than he imagined. It took lots of persuading and energetic cheerleading to get him to try again after that first scary fall but he committed to trying ten times and he did it. He's still not fully independent but I'm used to Henry's way of learning to be just a bit slower than his older brothers. Those training wheels are off now and he'll be riding with confidence in no time.

Dad gets him steady. I know. He should be wearing a helmet. Jay and I both said the same thing but Henry could not find it and...well...if he didn't try it right then then who knows how long it would be until the next time we were all ready and willing to give it a shot.

Dad's got his back.

Then he lets go!

And he's riding!

Until he forgets to pedal and the bike tips over.

Those crashes can hurt.

But we always try again. Big brother Sam shows how fun it can be.

Little brother, Daniel, only wishes he were part of the fun. And that his mom would dress him. Hey...sometimes, it's just whisky tango around here.

Later that afternoon, Sam and Seth got the job of stacking firewood from the trees Jay had chopped down or pruned.

They took turns throwing the logs from the truck while the other stacked.

Having boys is pretty fun.

Fifty Reasons To Celebrate

Even though Jay's parents celebrated their 50th anniversary last July, babies being born, missionaries leaving, holidays, church responsibilities and the winter season postponed us logistically gathering until this April. For one reason or another, general conference weekend was the best weekend to meet and Utah seemed the most central place.  It was weird to not watch conference (some did. I plan on catching up this week via DVR) but I think with most of our spring breaks either falling the week before or the week after conference, it was the best option. All but five of the grandchildren were in attendance, making our total number 36 for the weekend.







A mansion/castle/largest log cabin in the entire United States was rented (who builds these things?) and the seven offspring of Vaughn and Karen started arriving Friday afternoon and evening. There were thirteen bedrooms and fifteen bathrooms so there was plenty of space to spread out. The younger kids were immediately drawn to the indoor pool while the older teens congregated around the billiards table. The adults mingled in between repeatedly getting lost trying to find our ways to and from our bedrooms.




I actually took this shot of Seth catching a football thrown by Uncle Jerry from our bedroom which had a window to the pool. The kids loved it and it was definitely a huge perk to the house but my water loving Daniel couldn't stay away from it and that is stressful for a mom who isn't used to being a helicopter parent. Every time I couldn't find Daniel, I would imagine him drowning in the pool but I was blessed with the help of a lot of other adults and cousins and Daniel was always safe. Always wandering but always safe.



Henry and Ethan would have been happy to stay in the pool all day.



Erin was a sweetheart and took Daniel swimming.



Darren, Reece and Adam shoot some pool.


Watching something on the mega TV. Probably baseball or NCAA basketball games.

We had late nights. The normal bedtime for both nights was well past midnight, even for the kids, and I was quite a bore past ten. Daniel slept well the entire weekend but still woke up both days before 7 and that makes for some long hours of wakefulness. It helped that we really had ample time to simply sit around, relax, chat, swim, eat, watch videos, and play.




It was really too cold to play outside but a few dared the frigid temps to get a ride in this massive tire swing.



It swung over the edge of the mountain top.



Timber Moose Lodge. This pic really only shows about 1/3 of the house. There are all sorts of angles and rooms in there but this big room above the covered porch housed a bouncy house inside of it. I only went up there once and didn't bring my camera but it was a huge room that was perfect for the kids to play in.



We saw an actual moose wandering about. Aptly named cabin.



Jay and Daniel in the swing.





Karen gets a push from two of her sons, Jay and Clark.






Go, Karen!



Sweet Caden patiently waited for a turn.



From the front entrance. There were so many places to sit and visit but we all kind of stuck to this large front room. I love how sweet Patty is being with Henry here.



Kelly and her baby, Abby.



Creed in the kitchen.



Uncle Matt and Seth.



Delanie, Erin and Thomas look at pictures while waiting for food.



Buffet lines were the norm for meal time.



The dining area was great. There were four of these large, circular booths and one large table so we could all eat together.



Every time I'm around Erin, she is planning or organizing something. Here, she is preparing a skit for the evening talent show.



Karen is a major inspiration to me. She completed life scrap books for each of her children and brought them to the reunion. The pages were filled with pictures, newspaper clippings, letters, awards, certificates, report cards. She has been working on them for years and it was so fun to sit and look through them. She has dedicated her life to the raising of her children and you can see by each ones' accomplishments that her efforts paid off. She and Vaughn have been excellent parents and even though we were honoring their marriage and the devotion, sacrifice and love they have shared for the past 50 years, it seems impossible to separate out the results of that partnership: their children and the families each of them has in turn created. All of the memories made me hope for Jay's and my future 50th celebration.

I believe Vaughn and Karen had a great time. My favorite moment of the entire weekend was the very first night, right after Jay arrived (he had to work on Friday and so was the last to arrive. We drove separately) and all seven of the kids, plus most of the in-laws and older grandchildren played a game called Z-ball. The game looked like fun but instead of joining in, I watched Karen sitting nearby looking at her children and grandchildren laugh, taunt, play and giggle together. She had a smile on her face that glowed with an internal satisfaction. I looked at the game through her eyes and felt that joy that must come when you realize you have raised your children well.



This is a game called Z-ball. I don't understand the rules but one ball must be hit from the opposite side of the table from wherever the ball to be hit is located. Everyone who played had a great time and you can really see personalities in this short video.

Saturday evening was the designated celebration. We started off with a yummy BBQ dinner and then had a family talent show. The original idea was to have whoever wanted to participate perform a 90 second talent. They could be legitimate talents or silly talents or whatever you wanted. We chose to combine our minutes and sing a  50th anniversary rendition of Call Me Maybe with our own lyrics. We had a few technical difficulties (like Daniel pressing buttons in the middle of the song) but it turned out alright. Everyone got in the spirit of the evening and we had a costumed and choreographed version of Guitarzan, ballet, all the teams of the MLB listed off, a famous Kelly wiggle and an imitation of a horse, a fancy hand slapping routine, a reenactment of Studio C's Mafia skit, some air banjo, a group dance of twist and shout and some dinosaur sounds. My nephew, Doug, is a gifted and talented pianist and we listened to a beautiful performance of him playing Chopin via CD because there was no piano at the house. Vaughn and Karen ended the evening with a romantic dance. I really love this sort of stuff.



We don't actually start singing until 1 minute into the video if you want to fast forward to that part. I didn't bother editing.



Mafia skit. Thomas played someone attending a party for the first time and didn't realize that you don't actually kill anyone in the game. He felt horrible killing Brooke!:)



Vaughn was going to play a spoof about the legalization of marijuana in Colorado but kept it to air-banjoing instead.



I could not get a good shot of them dancing because the light was so terrible.



They kept getting further and further away from the light and you could see they had something up their sleeve by their grins.



They disappeared around the corner when the song ended.


When they came back, Vaughn's hair sure looks less tidy!

We finished the evening by eating the yummy anniversary cake.



We thought this was all of the grandchildren minus the missionaries (Scott, Derek, Michael and Jacob) and the young married, Karin and Ben. Clockwise from Karen: Karen, Matt, Vaughn, Doug, Daniel, Seth, Emily, Erin, Delanie, Thomas, Caden, Brooke, Henry, Ethan, Sara, Kate, Creed, Sam, Reece.



Henry and his buddy cousin, Ethan.



Then, we remembered the babies! Quinn and Abby joined the



Kelly ordered this cake from a bakery near her house.



The ceremonious first cut.



Vaughn still acts like a newly wed.





Patty and Matt chat after cake.



Stephanie, aka Jane from their GuiTarzan musical number, and baby Quinn.



Reece and Adam.



Jay's sister, Peggy.



Jay's brother, Rex, and baby Abby.




On paper, 36 hours seems a much too short length of time to be considered a legitimate reunion but it really was perfect. There wasn't enough time for anybody to get overworked, feel left out or hurt any feelings. No one got sick. No one got lost. No one went hungry (although one of my nephews wished there were vegetables to snack on. I need his healthy habits to rub off on my children!) Instead, each hour was spent remembering good times, creating new memories and honoring the legacy that comes with 50 years of family. I really, really hope we do it again. Soonish.