Of Stitches and Wheels...

Howdy. 
It's been an eventful month, full of stitches, toothaches, big dogs, wooden cars, new cars and trophies.  Let me catch you up:

At the end of January, Colt had what was left of his lower two front teeth removed in an extremely painful process by an oral surgeon (his was a very complex extraction).  The result of a collision with a metal sled when he was eight or nine, he has since continually lived with crowns and root canals that have caused swollen gums, pain and infection--never being able to bite into an apple or gnaw on a steak bone.  While we have received five different suggestions for treatment from five different specialists, he's probably going to go with implants--but will be hilariously toothless for a while as it heals.

When we returned from our Denver tooth-extraction trip (where we also said "good-bye" to our beloved Mazda CX-9 "Blueberry" and said "hello" to our new Toyota Sienna "Sweet Pea"...I CAN'T believe I'm driving a minivan now...gulp...but we direly needed the room!), I made a trip out to get the mail and came back with a HUGE package, in the form of a Great Pyrenees dog.  I said "hi" as I was reaching into the mailbox and he bounded over to me and nearly knocked me over with puppy glee. I could tell immediately that he was a big teddy bear and still quite young--though still very BIG.  I put him in the back yard, locked the dogs inside, and promptly found out the only way to get him to the animal shelter was to load him up myself (life in the country).  Colt was in LaLa Percocet-Land, so I attempted to load him in Big Red (our Dodge truck).  I giggle to think of how I must have looked as he gladly let me loop the leash over his neck, then he sweetly but resolutely disagreed about the direction we needed to go.  His way was any way AWAY from the truck (got that?).  When it was clear that he would not budge I knew it was hopeless.  I put him back in the yard and called the neighbors.  Knowing that he was likely a wandering sheep dog, our neighbor called all the sheep ranchers she knew.  No one was missing a dog, but they'd send the info out along the rancher-wire.  After a few days of not finding a place for him, it became apparent that it was no longer our choice.  When one night he awoke us with barking, we looked outside to find him outside the gate asking to come in!  He freely came and went from our back yard, jumping over it with ease.  He watched over us, barking and chasing things away at night, and was great with the kids (though I always stayed near as one playful bound could lay them all out).  He also played well with Silver, so his presence wasn't such a big deal EXCEPT for Jasper.  Jasper, our fearless terrier, turned into a nutcase around Casper/Cooper/Maximus (we all had our pet names for him).  He would bark furiously at him then run away yelping like a hurt rabbit the minute Cooper looked at him.  At first, Coop didn't care about Jasper but when the yelping started he became more interested in the little furry thing--as though it might make a nice snack--and so we continued to have to monitor Jasper's time outside.  It became quite a pain.  Eventually, Cooper began to just stay on the front porch (encouraged by the fact that after finding a skunk one night, none of us would give him hugs anymore)--literally guarding our house day and night.  We got used to his presence, even felt comforted by it, but we were tired of dodging the skunky fellow and I felt for the UPS guy trying to deliver us packages. (0:

Then, one day after a week or so of his guardianship, he was gone. 
I can only hope that he's found a flock, and is safe and not hungry.  He was such a gentle, sweet soul.  I still find myself looking out the window, expecting to see the giant white fur ball laying on our front doorstep. 

A few days after Cooper left, Wyatt woke up on a chilly Sunday morning to a face swollen like a balloon and complaining of a BAD toothache.  He had been up most of the previous night complaining of the pain--and let me tell you, when this kid says it hurts, then you know it HURTS!  He has Colt's high pain tolerance, which is seriously not even human.  Before his face swelled up, we couldn't see anything the matter and I thought it was an adult tooth trying to cram itself into too small of space.  When he turned into a Who from Whoville the next morning, we knew it was something more.  It turned out to be an abscessed tooth from a fall on a wet tile floor that happened eight months ago (in which his front adult tooth was chipped and shoved into his gum).  We put him on penicillin, thanks to a wonderful friend from church who is a local dentist, and halted the infection.  He's back to looking like our Wyatt again and the poor kid is scheduled for a root canal the first week in March.  Following right in Daddy's footsteps...darn it!

Wyatt Who From Whoville

As Wyatt began to mend, and Colt began to be able to eat solid food, we felt we simply had not had enough of stitches, blood and pain, so we took our 12-yr old Weimaraner, Sage, in to have surgery on her CCL.  The surgeon cut into her bone, shaving off a chunk of it to create a new hinge, if you will, and added a plate to secure it.  Her activity would need to be severely restricted for eight weeks (i.e., carrying her out to go pee, etc.) and she would be in intense pain while the bone healed.  Home now for a week and a half, she is doing very well--a relief considering she nearly died five years ago when we had her other leg repaired by a different method.  She is in pain, but she is the toughest dog I know and she is already ready to escape her bathroom prison.  I think the only thing she enjoys about her seclusion is that Jasper is barred from annoying her.

On a positive note, we did have some celebratory moments over the past four weeks.  Colt turned one year older, an event that didn't phase him one bit.  I wish I could be so blase about the aging process, but I am seriously freaking out about cruising towards the forty-year mark!  He's been-there, done-that, no worries. 

Eek!

His greatest celebration, though, came in the form of watching his son win Second Place for speed in the local boy/cub scout pinewood derby.  Last year, Wyatt didn't do so well and it was heartbreaking to watch him lose.  This year, Colt researched well and designed a pretty unique car (influenced by some powerful painkillers, perhaps?).  He and Wyatt built it and ran it last Thursday.  When it lost its first race, my heart dropped as Wyatt, with watery eyes, looked up at me and said "it's okay, we're here to have fun, right?"

Gulp.

Colt and I held our breath as he set up for the next race...and WON!  He then won again, and again and AGAIN!  His car kept getting faster with each run that it made and in the final race he actually beat the car that had beat him in the first run.  He ended up taking second, but actually never raced the car who took First Place (another one of my Bear Scouts, thank you!).  He was sooooo happy, I think he slept with the trophy that night.  His intensity, when he is into something, is off the chart and he so wanted to do well in the derby.  So Kudos to my boy, who put on a brave face and ended up doing awesome.  And Kudos to my hubby, who put his own pain aside in order to help his little boy win his very first trophy.  I'm so proud of both my boys! (0:

spreading the love...

Recap of the past month:

Let's see...the kids participated in a wonderful Christmas program at school and enjoyed a two-week Christmas break. We would have liked more snow, but it is what it is.  The break and Christmas zoomed by quick, filled with presents, traveling, laughter and yelling, tears and hugs, torn ACL's (Sage) and the stomach flu (all over Nana's couch and floor).  School came again, and with it a trip back to Price to see some dear friends but also to mourn the loss of a great man, our past Bishop in Price.  He fought cancer for eight years and underwent triple-digit chemotherapy treatments, never giving up.  He was a kind and generous soul and will be missed.  We returned home to Tsegereda Rosalie turning 10 years old, something she is not thrilled about as growing up is not something she's sure she wants to do quite yet.  The presents and cake are cool, though. (0:  Jasper is now an "it" which has brought with it some interesting discussions with the kids, and we are looking towards two more surgeries in the near future as Colt needs major oral surgery done to fix some faulty root canals done when he was a kid whose bottom front teeth got in the way of a speeding metal sled and Sage needs her rear ACL fixed (it's really a CCL in a dog, but if I wrote that you'd be like, her what?).  So, 2012, here we go!

First hunt for Christmas tree took one day, lots of mud, and resulted in: a porcupine.  Cool, but not appropriate for ornaments and lights.

Second attempt to find Christmas tree took one day, tears at evil snowshoes until they got the hang of it (girls), and the perfect tree for us.

Mom and kids after the tree hunt.

Our perfect little Christmas tree.

Presents, oh yeah!

Star Wars AND M&Ms--she is the best sister EVER!

Mortenson Christmas Mayhem

Tse and Branlon, the newest addition to the Mortenson clan.

When you're desperate for snow, you'll make do with however much you've got.

Yup, she's 10 now (gulp!)

 
As for the following, this is mostly a memo to myself...a wrestling match over how to learn to love who you are in order to give to others better.  It's probably whiny and petty, but if you're bored then you're welcome to come along.  Pull up yer pants and wade in...

So, my goal after my last post was to cowgirl-up and  show more love without expecting a return.  How'd I do last month?  I sucked at it. Seriously.  I sucked.  I put in some effort at first--hugging her a lot more than normal--and she really responded, but then the hassle of everyday life took over and I fell back into my normal rut.  Mechanical Mommy--here's your lunch, have a good day at school, condition and comb never-ending curls, exercise, clean dishes, clean toilets, laundry, make lunch, don't eat with your daughter because if you do she will chatter nonsense the whole time and take two hours to eat (not joking), check email, laundry, etc.  Christmas break made it worse because it was an extra busy time and having the kids home again was surprisingly stressful as I really missed my daytime quiet.  Anyways, short of it is, I need to do better because I haven't pulled my boots on properly and really worked at it. I know it will help.

What's more, I need to spread it around.  As I wrote my last entry, I wrote it saying in my head that this so applies to spouses, too--especially mine.  I needed to cowgirl-up with him as well, as he is very similar to Rodas in his language of love.  Over thirteen years of marriage I really have tried, but it never seems enough.  I need my personal space and easily feel smothered.  He loves to be smothered.  We inherently treat others as we would like to be treated, and thus we often end up doing the opposite of what the other wants.  We speak our own language of love, not theirs.  How can miscommunication not happen?!

I know this, and have tried for 13 years to be what he needs, but I always come up woefully short.  Mostly because I'm emotionally drained by motherhood and plagued by pesky migraines, but also partly because I selfishly guard myself from giving everything of myself--been there, done that. Won't again.

If I give everything, then what is left of me?

Of course, that begs the question: who is me?  Mother and wife.  That's it.  And that is what I think might be the greatest issue that I need to wrestle with.  Growing up I had some seriously big dreams.  Africa-big dreams.  I knew where I was going and that somehow I was going to make a difference in the world.  I was told more than once that I was meant to do something important with my life.  I'd had a paycheck since I was 11 (seriously), I'd traveled alone to South Africa to stay for the summer at 14, and was a student ambassador to the Soviet Union after that.  I had focus and I was headed somewhere.

Then I came to an unexpected Y in my life journey and I took a fork that led me away from all that I was to be.  It was my choice, and I won't say that it was wrong because that would be denying the blessings that are in my life today.  But it was uncharted territory and I became a person unknown to me.

I have been trying to get to know me ever since.  I am mother and wife--but I don't recognize me.  Someone very intuitive once wrote to me that "some people have to look and act busy to feel important."  Yup.  That's me. I do the laundry, cook meals, clean house, become scout leader, coach soccer, volunteer at school, stay at home while hubby travels...all in an effort to be the best Mom and Wife that I can be, because that is who I am supposed to be.  And I need to be...I need to feel...important.

But I'm failing.  Miserably.


In the LDS Church, there is a creed recited every Sunday in the Relief Society.  The RS is the organization of women dedicated to serving all those in need--spiritually and physically.  Their motto: Charity never faileth!  The creed that is recited includes a phrase that has haunted me ever since I first heard it:

"Find nobility in motherhood and joy in womanhood."

I love it.  I want it!  I don't feel it, yet, but I know I should. That's the problem, I know that I should feel this about being a Mom and Wife--it's what I chose, and fought hard for--but I don't know HOW to simply enjoy it!  When Noah lies to my face about washing his hands or brushing his teeth--I have failed.  When Rodas spits in Colt's face and throws daggers with her eyes at me--I have failed.  When Tsegereda consistently doesn't understand that a quarter-of-an-hour is the same as 15 minutes--I have failed.  When Wyatt is curled around the toilet for hours, his tummy a bundle of pain and acid--I have failed.  When Colt is tired and stressed and spends hours on the computer instead of talking to me--I have failed.

How can I enjoy and find nobility in something that I am failing at so miserably?  I know that I should see the good things...the weight that Rodas is finally gaining, the pure joy on Tsegereda's face when she reads out loud, the kindness when Noah shares all his giant candybar with his siblings, the intelligence when Wyatt passes his multiplication tables.  But I can't take much credit for these, they are mostly inherent.

The worst failing? If you don't know who you are, how can you truly give of yourself?

And there's the petty resentment. I begin to resent the fact that I feel like I'm the only one who has to give...give to the kids all of me...give to the husband all of me.  What's left?  Where am I?  I am lost.  I am defined now by others, not by myself.  Of course, Colt probably feels the exact same way...and added to that he goes to a job everyday that stresses him out and twists his stomach in knots.  But it also takes him away in a good sense...it sends him to Mozambique and all over the country, and it gives him an outlet for the side of him that is not Father and Husband.  He is still, partly, defining himself.

I hate to cook and clean.  So how do you love what you are when you feel like an imposter? I think that's the key to learning to speak love to my husband and my children better.  I need to accept who I am.  I need to find and accept that nobility in motherhood and joy in womanhood.  I need to understand that being a good wife and mother IS doing something important with my life. It WILL change the world, hopefully for the better (visions of Noah running for Congress or selling used cars crop up). In order to be a good wife and mother, I need to love who I am, where I am, and give without expecting a return. I need to stop doing the laundry all the time and start enjoying my kids and husband more.

'Course, knowing that is a whole lot easier than living it.

And the laundry pile just keeps getting bigger the less you do it...

Learning to Love

Yeah, yeah, it's been a while.  Call it life; call it chasing four kids and three dogs around, staining a house, plowing snow, building a fence, helping at school, throwing birthday parties and keeping tabs on a husband who's schedule is as variable as the weather...it is what it is.  However, "IT" keeps me from being able (mentally or physically) to plant my butt in front of the computer for more than a few minutes at a time.

But, as this is a record for my family more than anything, I gots to get to it!  So, here goes...

First of all, an update in pictures of our doings for the past few months...

Exploring the Green Goblins of Sandwash Draw

The Wild Horses of Sandwash

Wyatt Turns 9 and has a SPOOKY Party!!!

Nana and PopPop Visit!

Halloween

Yup, He Made It To 7!

First Snow!

Three Eagles in Our Tree (can you find them?)

Birthday Barbie Turns 4!

Hundreds of Helpless Underwear and Socks Lose Their Lives To the Loveable Four-Legged Terror

Okay, you can stop there and go check your email if you just wanted an update on the family.  If you're up for something a little deeper, get yer waders on and follow me...

I have debated how to write this entry for quite some time...simply because of not knowing how to relay my thoughts in a manner that wouldn't be misunderstood or taken the wrong way.  It is something very close to me though, a struggle that I want to write down to perhaps help me, and perhaps others sitting in the same shoes, to see it clearer. Adoption is often treated like this warm and fuzzy fairy tale and no one wants to hear--or admit to--the nitty, gritty.  Only happily-ever-after's allowed, thank you.  But the truth, the terrible, awful truth of it is that adoption can really suck.  Seriously.  But, you have to realize, pregnancy and childbirth aren't always a bucket of fun either!  The creation of a family, whether through biology or adoption or a mixture of both, is simply tough--and sometimes sucks--no matter how it occurs.  It is a roller-coaster ride of epic proportions made worse by the fact that you can never truly see the curves or stomach-flopping drops that are coming.  The key element which helps us parents keep it together through the hundreds of poopy diapers, crayon graffiti on the walls and temper tantrums in the checkout lane is the unconditional, blinding love which is born within us along with the child.  When that child is not born of you, that love may come in a different manner and maybe even on a different chronology...but it comes.   And when it doesn't, you have to make it happen.

I'm at the "make it happen" stage with my adorable-to-the-world 4 year old. 

It's no secret that Colt and I have had our struggles with Queen Ro--she's a tough nut to crack.  I have slowly come to the realization that, after 17 months home, my difficulty attaching to her is not her problem.  It's mine.  She's just a normal, ornery, know-it-all mule-headed preschooler, with a few extra issues to spice it up.  She does have some attachment issues influenced by her past...how can she not?  But her reaction to her life as it is is very typical of her emotional age (we're sure that she is older, but emotionally and physically she fits her legal age perfectly).  Rodas views the world as revolving around her (typical of the age) and struggles with trying to control it (typical of the age) and all those in her immediate world.  While her sister often bends over backwards to please Colt and I--something I am quite sure sadly stems from her trying to assure that we will not send her back or abandon her, Rodas continues to literally and figuratively spit in our faces (rarely in front of others, mind you) when she doesn't get her way or is admonished. 

Worse than that, she can change her affections at the drop of a hat in a silent but obvious (to us) way that we know she has yet to truly care for or trust us.  She can give you a look full of ice and daggers one minute and want hugs and cuddles the next without skipping a beat.  We don't switch that fast.  It is a constant push and pull and it is exhausting.  I watch her with family, friends and strangers and see her time and again gravitate towards those bewitched by her--she will latch on, lavish them with dimples, giggles and affection, and leave them without a second thought (and often not even remember them later).  This even includes close family.  It is a common adoption/attachment issue; a way of assuring or procuring someone to take care of them should Mom or Dad leave.  People think it's adorable.  It makes me cry inside because I know she doesn't feel secure.  And I know that it is partly my fault.

Noah was a tough toddler and I wasn't sure I'd survive him.  Looking back, I know it was those soft moments when I'd find him sleeping peacefully in some crazily contorted position on his bed or watching him offer Dad the last precious Cheeto out of his little bag without hesitation that got me through.  Those moments continue to bolster that powerful love that I felt when he was born, helping to restrain me from wringing his neck when he pees on a dog or hides his carrots under his dresser.  I watch other preschoolers and, seeing their tantrums include whacking Mom, throwing toys and simply being a pill, I think "that kid would drive me nuts!"  But I know how they put up with it.  It's that love and those moments that get them through.  It lets them take it and keep coming back for more.  It's our job and it's why that love was sparked within us.  Otherwise, the human population would have died out centuries ago...(0:

When you adopt a toddler, you are adopting a child at one of the most challenging stages of life (keep in mind, none of my kids are teenagers yet...).  Wrap into that the fact that the child has likely been through a traumatic life situation dealing with loss of parents or caregivers--or simply never knowing either of those--and you've got a condition ripe to produce a challenging child.  Now, add to that the fact that you don't even know this child--have never met him or her--when you decide to parent them.  That's a situation ripe for attachment issues.  There's a love you feel when you decide to adopt a child--and it is STRONG...similar to the love you feel for the babe growing in your womb.  You haven't met them yet, but you KNOW them...you know that they are meant to be your child.  Then when you meet them, that love metamorphoses and you learn to love the child that they are--and with adopted ones, all the emotional baggage they have already collected in their short lives--and let go of the child you imagined them to be.  It is the true love, but so much harder.

With our girls, we have missed out of years of growing this love and getting to know them.  You just have to jump right in and put that learning to love on the fast-track.  And it does get put to the test...right from the get-go.

I had unconsciously expected it to be a two-way street, where we all work on learning to love each other.  I was wrong.  A wonderful speaker said something at church last week that slapped me upside the head.  He said we have to teach our children how to love.  We have to be the example for them to follow.  We have to show them love for them to know it and give it back.

EEK!

I've been expecting for Rodas to meet me half-way...and I certainly haven't been teaching her well.  She doesn't want for anything--I take great pains caring for her hair, clothing her well, reading books to her and playing games with her...but I don't think I'm showing her love well in a way that she understands.  Every child--and adult for that matter--speaks a different language of love.  For some it's through affection, some words, some gestures and some time spent with them.  She speaks affection...and I don't do affection well, especially with a little girl that can cut me to the bone at any second.  I see her affection lavished on others with no discern, so I have discounted the affection she gives to me as superficial.  I also hold back, waiting for the flip to switch in her where she'll turn the cold-shoulder and defiantly disregard me.

I need to show her affection.  I need to accept affection, even if it is superficial.  And if I don't want to, I need to do it anyways.  I've always known that, the books preach it.  I do it to some extent...but not as much as I know that I need to.  It just is finally, truly sinking in.

But it is hard.  I find myself unconsciously avoiding her eyes because she will smother me or hurt me when I find them.  I eat my lunch fast because she will talk to me incessantly and ask absurd questions and never finish her lunch if I sit with her too long.  I don't play Barbies with her because...well, I really just don't like to play Barbies.  But she does.  She loves it.

And you may shake your head at it--because she's so adorable and just asking to be loved--but I'm thinking if you had to be on this journey with her 24/7 for the last 17 months as I have, you'd understand.  I have not had the years of building and bolstering love with her...the little unguarded moments that get you through the tough times...and in fact, they probably won't come UNTIL I learn to love her.  She will not show those adorable moments of true self until she feels totally loved and secure.

We all can show our love to another better.  We all can step forward and love in another's language, without expecting them to meet us halfway.  It is how we teach and how we, in turn, learn to love.  So, I need to cowgirl up and work at love a whole lot more...

Wish me luck...

Happy Holidays!

Birthday Surprise!

There is a good reason why there's a new post so soon after the Giant Twinkie one...we have BIG news (actually, it's quite little, but don't tell him that!)!  Wyatt got an early birthday surprise on Monday that has the whole family laughing, growling, howling, amassing band-aids, googoo- and gaga-ing and cleaning up pee.  Let me give you a hint:

Meet Jasper Jax, the coolest little dude on four white paws.  He is 150% Jack Russell Terror and we have all fallen head over heels for him--well, almost all of us.  Sage is a wee bit grumpy with the bundle of over-abundant energy, but give her time.

You know how sometimes the best things in life are those that aren't planned?  That's Jasper.  Colt and I have been discussing getting a puppy within the next year or so as Sage is getting older and we wanted a bridge to help Silver deal with her loss, when it comes.  Plus, Wyatt has been pleading for his very own dog for years, and we figured he would be ready for his own four-legged buddy by then.  So, it has been in the thought process for a while, but wasn't meant to be put into action for months.

But life doesn't follow your planner, does it?!  Let's just say, we saw an ad in the paper and both Colt and I felt the pull to follow-up on it.  Wyatt's birthday is in two weeks and once we met Jasper, well...

Three big dogs is too much, so we have been looking into big dogs in little dogs bodies that could keep up with Wyatt on a run and deal with Sage.  Jack Russell Terriers are known to be:
* Extremely Intelligent
*Assertive
*Sturdy, tough and tenacious--one JRT was reported to have lodged himself in a fox den for two days, refusing food or water until the quarry came out.
*Seriously fearless and assertive.  Case in point: In 2007, George, a JRT in New Zealand, defended five children from two pit bulls just long enough for the kids to escape to safety.  He doggedly refused to let them get to the kids--especially the little 4-yr. old, and ultimately lost his life doing so.
*They were bred to bolt foxes and ground-dwellers from their dens, so they are hunters and like to dig...everywhere.
*High Energy and athletic
*Vocal
* "It is not uncommon for these dogs to become moody or destructive if not properly stimulated and exercised, as they have a tendency to bore easily and will often create their own fun when left alone to entertain themselves."  (Wikipedia)

Yup.  We're in for it!  But since when have we ever done things the easy way???

The Day of the Giant Twinkie (Schoolbus)

Well, it came and went. Without too great of a ripple, and only a few tears (Rodas missing brothers and sister). The first day of school was much anticipated in our house--it being not only a new school year but a brand new school and brand new set of teachers. Even Rodas had her first day of preschool, and marched in like it was about time she had her turn (picture her with her hand on hip wigglin' her upper body and waving her finger with what I call "the sister swag"). She sent Mom on her way with only a slight quiver to her lips, but quickly recovered as she knew she was now, truly, a big girl.

Now, let's just get those pull-ups off at night! (0;

All the kids enjoy their teachers and seem to have received the right one for them. Tsegereda Rosalie's teacher is a very fun and loving woman that Tse just adores. She is the perfect successor to the AWESOME Mrs. C who gave our girl such an amazing start last year. Her class is a mixture of second and third graders and she seems to fit in very well. Tse has lots of friends and it seems her glossy braids and chocolate beauty have brought her more adoration than ostracism--almost to a worrisome level. It is something that we saw in Price and we try to temper at home, but I'll leave dealing with "The Ethiopian Princess complex/exoticism" for another blog entry....

Wyatt's teacher has a wonderfully dry sense of humor and doesn't seem to let much rile her. Wyatt's best new buddy is another Wyatt M....seriously. He has slipped into his class and seamlessly blended in with kids that have been together since preschool. That's Wyatt.

Noah has had a rougher start. Academically he is very strong, but socially he has struggled....and he's the one I usually don't worry about socially. Go figure! It seems that he is so used to kids gravitating towards him that when they didn't here, he was a bit lost as to what to do. Instead of trying to ingratiate himself, he sort of did his own thing hoping someone would come and join him. I noticed it at recess one day when I was helping in class and began asking him questions about it. Then Wyatt and Rosalie mentioned a few instances where kids had actually been picking on Noah and not treating him well. Mama Bear came out in me and I coached all of them about dealing with bullies and having each others' backs and working at making good friends. Suddenly Noah realized this was a great thing to play up for extra attention, so he began coming home every day with a "woe is me, I have no friends" attitude. That lasted a few days (and a talk with the teacher to find out more of the story) and he soon got no sympathy at home and I told him point blank that if he didn't like it then he had to work to change it. Go and ask someone to play, and then play what they're playing. And choose your friends well. I have always told my kids that it is not the quantity of friends that matters, but the quality.

So, the next day, he had a new buddy and all is well.

Hopefully.

Anyways, overall we really like Hayden Valley Elementary. Academically they might not be as strong as what we came from, but they more than make up for it in how well-rounded their program is. Music and PE everyday is a reality and the kids love it. They also allow a morning snack and afternoon snack (must be healthy) and their school lunches are wonderful and include lots of fresh fruits and veggies and the rule is you must try everything and eat at least 50% of what's on your plate. Most classes have 15-19 kids and I have been impressed with every school employee that I've met.

The longer school days -- catch the bus at 7 and get out at 3:35 or off the bus at 4:40--make for a little crazier schedule, trying to get kids to dance lessons and boy scouts, etc. on time and also complete homework due each day. I've also been asked to be the new Webelos boy scout leader, which is a good sized time commitment for only two kids. I'm a bit frustrated with that, but I figure it's a right of passage for any mother of boys. Yippee.

(0;

So, that's the past month in a nut shell. Fall is here, the trees and weather are finally joining in on the change of season, and my buck antelope has survived one hunting season. I'm not against hunting, as we are all hunters of one sort or another--whether you had an elk steak, a burger or broccoli salad last night. Everything eats something else to live. But when you see the same animals wander in and out of your life...you get sort of attached. I selfishly hope he makes it, not only to keep passing on his gorgeous genes, but because I like seeing the guy lazing about in our back pasture. Simple. As. That.

Happy FALL!

The Descent of Summer

Okay, so I'm way late on this blog entry...I simply, truly, REALLY cannot believe that it is almost September. ARGHHHH! I know that I'm echoing the sentiments of Moms everywhere as I wonder "where does time go?"

So, as school approaches like a sledge hammer (my kiddos first day is September 6th) and summer slips from our grasp, I guess I'll journey back a little and figure out what we've been doing as the summer has slip-slided away...

Although the move and crawling out from underneath boxes has hovered over most of our undertakings this summer, we did manage to squeeze a few fun and "normal" summer escapades in. The boys did soccer and swim lessons, and Rosalie did swim lessons as well. The girl is a fish and passed three swim levels in one class (it was just her and another girl in the class so the instructor had the time)! She is now just one level behind Wyatt, my super-pro swimmer. Noah did really well in his lesson as well and can't wait for next year. Rodas wasn't quite ready for lessons this year--she LOVES the water, but wasn't ready to let go of Mom's hand quite yet. She's headed to Preschool in a few weeks, which I know she will embrace and love and will help her to let Mommy go a little easier. My only regret is that I'm not handing her off to the BEST preschool teachers in the world (Miss Racquel and Miss Gwen!), but I am hopeful that her Hayden Elementary teachers will be the next best thing. She goes to Primary at Church okay, but grumbles going in (although she's always smile's coming out). Her dance classes, which she loves, also help her learn to trust that mommies do come back.

One thing we have enjoyed tremendously this summer is living five minutes from Elkhead reservoir. Many mornings we have paddled our sea kayaks (yes, the WHOLE family in two Kayaks!) along it's shores and nearly had the whole reservoir to ourselves. I often take the kids and mutts to a quiet beach for the afternoon where they swim and play in the sand while I attempt to tire out the dogs with fetching and swimming. It is wondrous and I LOVE this little piece of heaven and can only hope that the secret doesn't catch on because I love having it all to ourselves! Colt recently organized a triathalon up at the reservoir for anyone on his fuels and fire crews that wanted to participate. He did a great job organizing it and, great father that he is, made sure his boys could participate too (his girls preferred playing in the sand). Wyatt beat ALL runners (and these are some fire-tough firefighters he ran against) and Noah ran the whole 2.2 miles (not easy miles either)--his first race ever! This blew me away (literally and figuratively) as this is the kid that I practically had to pry out of the backpack carrier when he was three and, when prodded to use his own two feet for hiking, would walk five feet and announce he was done!!! He's suddenly had this drive to run and bike with Dad and Wyatt, and he's actually starting to keep up!

It's also been fun living close--but not too close--to Steamboat Springs. It's a fun, little tourist town and we've enjoyed a balloon festival and some yummy dinners there. The Howelson Hill alpine slide was a fun excursion for the whole family for my birthday! Yahoooooooooooooo! Colt's excited to do some downhill skiing, snowboarding and telemarking again this winter.

We have also enjoyed being closer to both sides of the family and have been able to spend time in both Vernal and Grand Lake. We went to Buffalo BBQ Days in Grand Lake and Wyatt, Mom and Dad ran the 5K there. Wyatt came in 40th out of 200+ runners and took first place in his age group (0-10 yrs.)...WOW! I finished 60th...and I'm simply proud that I finished! If you want a tough 5K, try one that is more uphill than down and is at 8000 ft. elevation! Whew! The kids enjoyed playing in the frigid waters of Grand Lake and helping Nana release the endless stream of ground squirrels she relocates away from her flower beds (warning to moose and ground squirrels: don't mess with NANA!). Just recently, the kids and I were treated to a wonderful weekend with Nana (my Mom) and my sister Debs in Denver where we visited the Denver Zoo (Tsegereda got to see her favorite animal, the flamingo) and Waterworld. We all had a blast, and it was a wonderful vacation for the kids, who deserved "a summer vacation."

We have also added a new member to our family...well, sort-of. Clementine/Bob, our new Bobcat tractor, was finally purchased after exhaustive research and watching of classifieds. We girls call her Clementine, the boys and Colt for some odd reason feel the name "Bob" better suits her. Hmmpphh. She is sooooo not a "Bob." She came with a mower for keeping our huge lawn trim, and a bucket to dig us out of the plentiful snow that we have been promised will come. I'm reminded of the wonderful childrens' book "Katy the Snowplow" that dug out her whole town one winter. We've been warned that Craig gets a lot of snow, and we have a lot of driveway to plow, so a Katy (NOT a Bob!) is what we need! Colt is like a kid in a candy store with her, the kids think she's the next best thing to a four-wheeler, and she's easy enough to drive that I can move the bucket up and down AND go forward AND mow at the same time! (0:

Over the summer we've continued to enjoy the blessings of our new home...and all the furry visitors that enjoy the land as well. Routinely we have a beautiful buck antelope, a family of bluebirds, and a doe with her twin fawns that drop by. Another single doe (Daisy) is also a frequent muncher of our alfalfa. [Note in the photo the bluebird at the bottom and the antelope buck at the top of the picture] The mowing of our fields--which resulted in 13 huge circular bales--didn't seem to deter them and, if anything, they can find the succulent alfalfa even better now that the waves of waist-high grass are gone. Some marmots have taken up residence in our far back pasture, and I had a hoot watching them cuss-out a bald eagle hanging out on one of our cottonwoods. They shut up and hit the dirt when the eagle decided to take flight and come in for a closer look (yes, they're fine, and still cussing out anything that even comes close to their pasture). I LOVE my wildlife. The kids are enjoying it as well, although Noah and Rodas could do without the plentiful mosquitos. Noah, after a night on the trampoline in Vernal, found out that 14 mosquito bites makes him look like he went a round or two with Mike Tyson!

The kids are excited and nervous about school--as any kid usually is this time of year. Colt and I really feel good about their school (Hayden Valley Elementary) and I am ecstatic that they will be getting music and PE every day, as well as weekly art classes! The school also has it's own chef who loves to introduce the kids to wonderful new and HEALTHY foods (finally!) so I'm really diggin' it! Check out next month's blog entry to see if it all is really too good to be true. (0; Most importantly, though, the school will have new friends for my lonesome four. They are still heartbroken over friends they left in Price. The older two have made a few friends through church, but, as I've told Noah, school will provide an opportunity for all of them to hopefully find that special someone who's turn it is now to be a part of this adventure in the tale of his life.

I am praying that they will be as blessed with wonderful teachers and friends here as they were in Price.