The Coast, 2013

The weather was warm for two weeks before the rain began again.  A taste of summer as orange popsicle drips down dirty hands and arms that have spent the day romping outside.  And we all really, honestly thought that it had come.  Days spent in the park, soaking up the sun while skidding down slides, followed by evenings with all the windows open, trying to coax a breeze through the house.  It is only May and too good to be true.  Which is why we took off for the beach the first chance we got.

It's important to go to the beach at the beginning of the summer.  When 70 degree days are "peel your clothes off" hot and your toes are freshly pedicured after months of being stuffed into socks and shoes.  Even as they they turn blue as they hit the wet sand, they are too beautiful to put away, and brown-sugar sand kicks up as you run from the waves.  When a person can overlook the gale-force winds forcing sticky salt air into their lungs because there is no rain slicing its way through squinted eye-lids.  This is the season to go to the beach.

Despite its sapphire blue water and shell scattered sand, the Oregon coast is no event that you can hop in the car with a towel, sunblock and swim suit tied on under your shorts and t-shirt and expect to stay the day.  It is a complicated procedure of selecting one complete outfit from each season of the year to fulfill the requirements of beach-going, including comfy clothes for the ride home.


The following is a post to facebook:

Day at the beach ahead of us. Got our swimsuits, our shorts and short-sleeves, our apples for a snack and knife to cut them with, our long pants and long-sleeves, our socks, our jackets, our coats (yes, at the Oregon coast there is a difference between a jacket and a coat), our two strollers, one for shopping and one for beach running, our shoes and barefeet, our hair bling to hold our hair back from the wind and our high hopes for a warm day. Takes two bags.


Alaska wasn't sure about the sand.  She lifted her legs up to avoid being set on the unknown ground of sand being pushed by the wind.  Her toes curled up into her feet and she took a few careful steps before letting loose and gathered sand into her fists to watch as it slowly escaped her palms into the wind.

The water licked her toes and you would never know it was freezing cold.  She chased the waves into the ocean, looking back only for a hand to hold to steady her feet as the water pulled sand out from under her.  And when I say chase, I mean waded up to her little hips until she couldn't go forward any further.  She is a brave girl, a girl who chases with all her strength.

We played til the goosebumps were thick and Alaska was shaking with cold, her eyes still bright and yearning toward the water.  I didn't have the heart to swoop her away from such a good time, but her daddy did and she reached out, screaming for that ocean.

The love broke my heart.  I understood it.  I stood in my own shorts, the ones I had exchanged from pants before getting out of the car.  Handsome Husband had asked, "why" and the most honest answer I could give him was, "I can't go to the beach and stay out of the water."  Even as an adult, the wonderment of the ocean is the same.  The packed sand that becomes near liquid as the water touches it and the ever-beckoning waves call my name on the wind and I answer it with my legs poised, running among the waves.

16 Months with Alaska

Alaska.  Sweet heart.  You are 16 months and so grown-up.  And not just bigger grown-up, you think you are grown-up.  Today when I told you to get in your high-chair for breakfast you by-passed the highchair and pulled out a regular chair to climb up on.  You had breakfast at the table, using your own spoon while pouring all the milk out on your jammies right before it got to your mouth.

You love to color and draw.  When I am cleaning up the kitchen in the morning you find some paper and a pencil and sit content at the table to scribble.  You know to only used lined note-book paper and if there is other paper in your way, you move it out of the way.

Your first week in nursery was phenomenal.  You had been extra wiggly in sacrament meeting and both your daddy and I were scared stiff to make you behave in our next classes.  So we tried it.  You aren't old enough, by any means, but we took you anyway and you were welcomed with hugging arms and bright smiles and a, "We were wondering when she would be coming!  We're happy to have her!"  Daddy left you for the first hour of play-time and came back to check-in for the second hour of snack and lesson and singing and was waved away through the window.  You were doing great.  Using your sign words for things, sharing with the other kids, smiling big.  You are a heart-winner.

Another mile-stone of this past week is you are sleeping in your own big-kid bed.  Successfully!  You are truly so incredible!  We're in Oregon right now and instead of setting up your crib, we set it up into a daybed for you and you love sleeping in it.  At night and for naps you stay put so well.  There was never any pounding on the door crying, no crying at all, actually.

We've been working on sign-language and you are doing excellent.  We've got the essentials down and now we are working on building your vocabulary for common things that you like to eat.  You know eat, please, play and more.  We can't get you to say 'thank-you' - perhaps it is still too abstract.  This week you also broke out in signing 'milk' and 'cheese'.  We're still working on banana.

I would think you have said your first words.  You would sign the word for 'eat' and also say 'ea' at the same time.  Shoes are 'eash'.  Kitty Kitty is 'itty itty' and Grandma Mary's dog JD is 'yadie'.    You can say 'here it is' but there are really no words attached to it.  It's mostly intonation.  I haven't heard you say mama, but you call dada when you need him.  You also know everyone's names and when asked to take something to Grandpa or Megan or Dorian you can respond and go to the correct person.

You love giving hugs and know just when to give them.  All the time.  As well as kisses, both giving them and blowing them at goodbye.  You are my loving little girl and I hope to always be worthy of that.

Woodland Tulip Festival

My mom and I signed up for a 5k tulip trot for the Woodland Tulip Festival on a Saturday morning.

We heard the race start and trotted our hearts out.  The lady who was trailing behind us at the end confessed that she had to jog a little to keep up with us, we were walking so fast.  We made the 45 min. time and did a victory lap over to the show fields and u-pick fields to take some pictures of The Punky for the baby photo contest.

She was fast asleep, snuggled in the jogging stroller, totally unaware that the race had ended.  We took some pictures of her surrounded by tulips i
n her chrysalis and woke her up.  She opened her eyes and said, "Oooooh."  I held her in my arms and turned slowly so she could view all the flowers at once.

Alaska wasn't much interested in getting her picture taken, more so in adventuring and she headed her way down the furrows of tulips.  What pictures we did get, we got in that one stripe of tulips.  She wasn't willing to venture down another row.

We asked her what was in a tulip and she graciously looked inside while Grandma Mary pulled the petals open for her to look in.

Near the end of the row Alaska's punky self started to errupt from her shortened nap and she shook her shoulders to stop the tulips from tapping her on the back, stopping to look behind her and scowl as she tipsed down the rows.

Love that little girl so much!

I Zipped Your Mouth

Alaska, I am so sorry.  Today I zipped your mouth.  And by that I mean I was zipping you into your nice warm coat for a hike up some logging trails and it slipped and totally caught your lip.  It bled.  A little.  You cried.  A lot.  My heart hurt for you.  I know what that feels like, the surprise of the pinch and the sting that comes afterwards and the way that it just won't go away.  No band-aids, kisses or pressure can make that go away.

I pulled you into my lap and tucked your head up on my shoulder, your piercing screams next to my ear, and the sting of it all was inside my heart.  Tears came to my eyes as I rubbed your back.  I wanted to scoop the pain away.  As if your heart were a bucket of ocean-wet sand and I could take my plastic shovel and neatly scrape out just the part that hurt.

You are my precious daughter and I felt so sorry that you hurt.  That I had been the one to inflict that pain.  Accident or no accident, it still hurts the same.  My tears brimmed over onto my cheeks, bent over your little head, and I cried.

While I let you tell the world about your hurt, I thought quietly, trying not to focus too much on the noise you were making right in my ear.  Sometimes a good cry is the only way to release the pain and that is something that I can let you do while holding you close.  I thought about all the more times I will hold you while you cry.  All the more times there will be a pain that I will wish to take upon myself so that you won't have to.  All the more times when your little heart will hurt and all I can do is hold you tight.

And then I thought about Heavenly Father.  How He must hurt when we do.  How He prepared a way for that.  For one other person in the whole world to be able to feel the exact way that we do.  How He sent His son, Jesus Christ, to take the hurt from the world.  Not just the hurts from mistakes made, but the hurts that come from feelings being bruised and things not going as we have planned.  The atonement covers so much more than just forgiveness of sins.  It is God's healing gift to the world.  A gift that He could only give through Jesus Christ.

As we face the temptations of time, the confusion of choice, the embarrassment of error, the pursuit of perfection, our Heavenly Father is there to listen, to love, to inspire. Our Father, to whom we earnestly pray, is not an ethereal substance or a mysterious and incomprehensible being. Rather, He has eyes with which to view our actions, lips with which to speak to us, ears to hear our pleas, and a heart to understand our love.  
                                                                                                                     President Thomas S. Monson.

Alaska, any hurt can be resolved through prayer and scripture study.  I will be there to hold you.  Every time.  But I cannot take my sand shovel and scoop the pain out of your heart.  There is only one person who can do that.  And I hope every night when we say prayers as a family and we call it 'good enough' if you are quiet that you are learning the manner of prayer.  Of communication with the person who loves you the most.  When your heart hurts and you are done crying I hope that you find yourself on your knees.  That you can pour out your heart to someone who knows.  Knows every hurt and ache, and not just as in, "I've been there, too" but as in, "Your hurt is my hurt, let me take it away."

And, Alaska, you let Him.

You are not the only person in the whole world who is feeling exactly the way that you are feeling.  Jesus Christ has felt that exact same hurt.  The marvelous thing is, He can take it away.  He can take his sand-shovel and scoop out just what hurts, leaving the rest untouched.  His sand-shovel is so precise that it can even grab the small grains of sand that have been touched by pain but are mixed with joy.  The love that you had for that boy that broke your heart.  Christ can take the pain and leave the good.  The best-friend that you've had forever that told those lies about you.  Christ can take the pain and leave the good.  The scary parts of leaving home for college that are mixed with excitement.  Christ can take the pain and leave the good.  Yes, his shovel can be precise.

Already, I know that you are brave.  You are going to make brave decisions and do brave things.  And brave people often get hurt.  It's part of taking a chance.  I love you fiercely.  I will always be there to hold you when the tears have no where to run but down your cheeks.  But it doesn't matter how fierce I love, I cannot take the hurt away.  You know who can.

Feel Great In 8

To start this post, I must catch up a on few things.

First thing:  When Alaska was 6 months old I decided it was time to stop being a pansy about getting my body back.  I worked really hard to lose weight and get my body to a healthy state of being and was indeed headed in the right direction, but then Christmas came and my plans were thwarted by lots of yummy treats.

Second thing:  It was really hard to get back on a regular schedule of exercising and eating healthy after the holidays.  I was lacking the motivation and routine.

And then while clicking around on facebook I saw that my aunt needed some team members for something called Feel Great in 8.  I didn't even know what it was, but I knew it was something I wanted to be apart of. Who doesn't want to feel great?  I let her know I was interested and before I knew it I was signed up with a team complete with my two aunts and my mom and was reading down a list of things to do each day.  Things like eating 5 fruits or veggies, drinking X amount of water, reading scriptures and saying prayers, eating healthy foods and exercising.  It sounded hard.  Really hard.  Especially drinking the water.  But it was a check-off list, complete with little boxes for each item, for each day, for a total of 8 weeks.  I know my strengths, and checking things off a list if most definitely one of them.  Give me any list of anything and it will be done by the end of the day.  No compromises.  I am really good at list checking.  So I decided to give it a try.

And it has changed my life!  I know, so cliche.  But seriously.  I am a better person.  I can drink 64 oz of water in one day.  I know.  Gasp!  I never drank a swallow more, but I could get that required amount down.  I took my measured water with me everywhere so that I knew at all times how much more I need to drink.  During those first 8 weeks I never drank out of a 'people glass', never.  It was me and my water bottle at every sit-down meal and I wasn't shy about taking it in with me to restaurants, either.

When the program started I had a nine pound loss as a goal and totally ended up losing 11!  I was stoked.  I was now the weight I was when I got married.  All baby fat gone.  Only thing was, I still looked like I had the baby fat 'cause my body had changed so much and my muscle mass was down.  So I was a chubby, light person.  But light none-the-less and was so excited!

There was a 2 week break between rounds and I totally busted up during that two week rest, and I could tell.  I wasn't eating my vegetables/fruits or drinking my water and having more sweets and refined flours than was necessary and my stomach revolted.  But if I didn't have to follow the program, I wasn't going to.  I had a junky tummy for the most of those two weeks and I hope that when this next round if over I can do better about following the rules than I did before.

We're two weeks into the second round and I am already down 4 more pounds.  It's so satisfying to me how I don't need to go hungry and still peel pounds off.

Three things I learned about myself:

one: I won't eat an apple unless it's cut up.  And by cut, I mean very thinly sliced.  My mom had always told me that if I weren't hungry enough to eat an apple, then I must not be very hungry.  I would nearly starve before eating an apple.  And now I know why.  'Cause I would never cut it.

two: Sugars and fats don't bother my tummy as much as refined flour does.  Candy and frenchfries I can eat with no problems, but if I eat a doughnut or piece of pizza I can count on a clenchy tummy.

three: One of the requirements is to eat 5 good foods a day.  I prefer to get a headstart on my fruit consumption at this time, but if I don't, then I tend to not eat anything.  Which creates problems at 7:30 pm when I have already had dinner and cannot eat after 8 pm without losing points and still have to eat a good food.  Lesson learned, anything is better for breakfast than nothing.  And it's probably better to have carbs in the morning rather than at dinner anyways, so eat away at that cereal!

First Day in the First Ward

Upon being approved for our very own apartment, we also get our very own ward.  And by 'very own' I mean that neither my parents, nor Steven's parents, go to church in that ward.  It is our own, and that feels good.  Good like climbing into a bed that's been freshly made and stretching your feet to the bottom of the covers and doing a stretchy jumpy-jack, wiggly toes making some room and getting comfy where the blankets have been tucked tight.

Our first day could not have gone any better, and I want to remember every bit of it.  Every soft feeling of the holy spirit whispering truths to my heart, the friendly faces that said, "We're so glad you're here.", and the nodding smiles as Alaska quietly took in her surroundings.

My idea of being 'on time' to church is 10 minutes early.  I like the no hassle, no finish-line-rush to find a seat before the opening hymn is sung and the prayer starts.  I like the quiet whispers that accompany early-comers as they great each other and step from bench to bench shaking hands.  I like the ability to get settled with the baby, the diaper bag, the coats and jackets, the quiet-time books, the quiet-crackers and then to take a peak around and smile at others, not worried that I am distracting anyone.  I like looking around, taking stock of who is who, rehearsing names in my head as I search out faces.  I just like being early.

We were able to sit behind a lady I already knew since her and her husband used to be in my parent's ward and we chatted easily about the dynamics of this new group of people and a few other things.  We were introduced to the older couple behind us through Alaska's easy smile as they played an almost silent game of peek-a-boo over the back of the bench.  They guessed that we were new and welcomed us with big smiles and a touch to the shoulder of "we're so glad to have you."  Sacrament meeting was full of good talks that provoked thoughts in my mind and the holy spirit confirmed their truths and I am motivated to try a few changes in my life that will make things at home be more heaven-like.

The closing prayer was said and before we had a chance to get to Sunday School the ward clerk found us and asked for our information to get our records transferred and be officially a part of the ward.  I felt like everyone was so excited for us to be there.  They wanted us to stay.  And stay we will.

During Sunday School, Alaska made Handsome Husband nervous as she wiggled out of my arms to the floor and proceeded to explore a little.  I didn't hold my breath, she was being as quiet as someone her size can be and that is truly the most important thing.  She would come back to me for a cracker and we read a quiet-book before she slipped away again and headed for the lady that was sitting ciddy-corner to us.  She had a bag with some of her son's sacrament quiet-toys in it and Alaska brought me action-figure after action-figure until they were all in my lap and then she took them back to the bag and called the game done.  Alaska quietly smiled at everyone who caught her eye and walked curiously toward the teacher but stayed her distance.  A lady in the back gave me a thumbs-up when Alaska squirmed her way to the front for the third time and it let me know that it was ok.  It was all ok.  I am always afraid of Alaska being a distraction but one thing I have learned as a momma, watching other mommas and listening to old ladies, is that everyone loves a baby, distracting or not.  Even I can appreciate a good baby when Alaska isn't with me needing attention herself, and they are as cute as can be.

Handsome Husband took Alaska with him to Priesthood and I was free to mingle myself among the ladies in Relief Society.  And mingle I did.  I just love meeting new people and as I moved from my seat, I introduced myself to everyone along the way before the lesson started.

I am so excited to be a part of this fresh group of people.  To serve them and accept service, to share the gospel and make memories.  Leaving church I couldn't believe how lucky we are to be so joyfully accepted, at least three times I was told, "I am so glad you are here.  We need someone like you."  And they don't even know me!  But they know they need someone like me.  That is the best part.  To be needed.

Easter Sunday

There's always too much going on and not enough quiet time to think and write.  And I know.  Everyone has the same 24 hours as everyone else.  I know that my most favorite blogs to follow are those of people who are out doing things, filling their days with stories and taking time in the quiet mornings or evenings to reflect and tell.  I've just got to get that balance right.

Easter this year was just as it should be.  Surrounded by family. All family.  Alaska played her part of princess well, in her froofy dress.  It was seriously a ballerina tutu attached to the cutest top complete with appliqued flowers.  Maybe a little over-board, but if you're going to get a dress for a special occasion I feel it's go big or go home.  And sure, Alaska, you can quote me on that any dance you are chosen for court and your special prom.  We'll have to set up some limitations on that wedding dress, though.  Those things can be a little outrageous but hopefully you will be raised right and it won't be a problem.

Sunday mornings are always full of showers and good smelling lotions, but this Easter Sunday was complete with special occasion dress and hairbow.  I wasn't able to listen to all of sacrament meeting since I had to take Alaska out for a nap and that always includes taking her outside and walking around the building while she screams at the top of her lungs for being swaddled for some sleep, but as I left in my own new Easter dress and manicured nails,  I could feel the spirit as the speakers bore testimony of Christ and his sacrifice of love for us.

A quote from Pres. Monson comes to mind:

"No words in Christendom mean more to me than those spoken by the angel to the weeping Mary Magdalene and the other Mary when, on the first day of the week, they approached the tomb to care for the body of their Lord. Spoke the angel:

 

“Why seek ye the living among the dead?

 

“He is not here, but is risen.”    

 

Our Savior lived again. The most glorious, comforting, and reassuring of all events of human history had taken place—the victory over death. The pain and agony of Gethsemane and Calvary had been wiped away. The salvation of mankind had been secured. The Fall of Adam had been reclaimed.

 

In our hour of deepest sorrow, we can receive profound peace from the words of the angel that first Easter morning: “He is not here: for he is risen. ~ Thomas S. Monson.