Octogenarians

In this month 80 years ago my grandfather was born.  It was quite the time to be born, too.  The World's Fair in Chicago was going on and things were happening at an alarming rate. If you've read "The Devil in the White City" you'll have a good idea of what kind of excitement was buzzing about.  We had The Great War wrapped up for a while now and there were so many immigrants nation-wide which I'm sure contributed to the development of the western half of the country. Yet, along with the good came the bad.  The Great Depression was hitting with full force and the U.S. economical future was looking grim.  FDR had just signed his New Deal, yet circumstances for most families remained desperate.

However, the worst was yet to come.  A trouble of the worst kind was brewing in Europe and soon nearly the entire world would turn its attention to the startling Nazi invasion of Poland.  By the time World War II was officially declared, my grandfather had turned 6 years old.  He was a little boy who lived on a little farm in a little town in the somewhat inconsequential state of Utah.  How did it affect him?  What does he remember?  Does he go back to that time often or rarely, if at all?

I would like to know the answers to these and many other questions, and I am really lucky to have the opportunity to find out.  We get to see my grandparents at least once every couple of months and seeing as his big 80th birthday bash is coming up, I have my chance to ask away.

I'll do a follow-up blog post on my findings with his permission, and I hope my experience will motivate myself and others to do more family history.

July, July.

July, can you already be here?

Is it really time to pick fresh peas, smell the wafting barbecue scent from the neighbor's yard, run through sprinklers, crank up the A/C, and live in flip flops?

Where did Spring go? When did the trees shed their blossoms? Why didn't I notice how fast time was passing?

Notes to self:

Count on stopping at a few lemonade stands over the next month or two. 

It's time to stop the clock and lay in the grass at dusk, just to breathe deep the smell of summer. 

Savor the flavors of juicy, sun-ripened tomatoes because those memories will get you through the harsh winter ahead. 

Slather on the sunscreen.

Laugh. Skip. Sing. Repeat.

This July, I refuse to be a victim to my schedule!

Normalcy

Normality has finally found it's way back to our household.  The month of June has been too crazy to recount fully, but between all the weddings I've been working on, and the playdates and sleepovers the kids have had, not to mention the different outings we've been enjoying, we've been running ourselves into some kind of busy frenzy.  Time to         s            l            o            w         things down a bit.

Besides the house begging to be cleaned, the kids are (subconsciously) desperate for a regular schedule again.  Siena has performed under her usual ability in piano because of the inconsistency, Qiana has started her screaming tirades and potty accidents again, and Ez has "diva" days now.  Of course, I can relate some of this to just plain Growing Up because they've cycled like this before, but I think most of the changes are due to our over-scheduled and routine-less days.

(Wow, I just read those first two paragraphs and I realize how "Parent Magazine" it sounds.)

Today, although it was a little different since we were babysitting Maximillian Robison Magleby III, we got back into the swing of things.  It took a little coaxing to get the girls to write in their journals, and watering the garden took extra long, but it sure felt good to back on schedule.

The summer is looking good again.

Keep on Cluckin'

What June has been like for us...

We've been eating out a lot (like, once a week!) because of all the summer events/activities we've been invited to.  Ez is finally back to his normal self, eating up a frenzy; he was pretty ill and lost his appetite for nearly an entire week but thanks to a lot of prayers from his sisters on his behalf, he's his chipper self again.

My latest project: refurbishing/restoring my dad's old baby high chair.  It's definitely slow-going since I don't find myself with a lot of spare time and since the rust a little bit more stubborn that I am.

June is the month for WEDDINGS!  I've had a few busy weekends where I find myself elbow-deep in flowers, but I'm grateful to get back into my profession.  I've been trying to weigh whether I want to go full-scale with Solstice or not, and I have pretty much made up my mind that I'll do what I can without advertising, since I've got a family to pay attention to.  I do still like referrals, though.... ;)

The yard is coming along.  I've only been concerned with the back yard since it is where we spend a lot of time, regardless of the rocks.  The garden is growing really well, I'm just sad that I didn't get started a lot sooner.  I was too worried about a late frost.  Anyway, we've kept busy weeding and watering and I'm grateful for the things it's teaching my daughters.

I was in charge of a wedding party for Maggie and Melvin last week and it was a huge success.  The theme was "Vintage Italiano" and thanks to a lot of people, it came together really nicely.

(Siena took this "photoshoot" of Qiana.)

Swimming at Grandma Peg's community pool.  Reminds us of Midvale and we get a little "homesick".

Juan got a tent for Father's Day from the kiddos and they were so excited about it that they camped out for three days in the loft.

Pupusas, due to a sour attempt at homemade fish tacos.  Note to self: never freeze fish again.  It's probably already been frozen once before.

Piano Girl-- we're both ÜBER FRUSTRATED at times, but the overall experience has been good.

Impromptu bike ride to Utah Lake with the Goldings.

Many fun times were had here in my youth and the memories just came flooding in once we got on the river trail.

A Birthday Fiesta for Tia Sierrrrrrr-ah.  Living near family is too awesome for words.

Hear Ye, Hear Ye

Let it go down in the historical books that today, the tenth of June in the year two thousand and thirteen, I, Stacia, fulfilled a near impossible dream of completing the To-Do list I set out to accomplish today. I owe all of my success on this point to my 3 year-old who complied with the idea of an afternoon nap, my toddler son who slept soundly alongside his sister, and my 5 year-old who quietly kept herself busy while I whittled away at my household chores.  It was a momentous and fulfilling moment the second I peeled off the rubber gloves and stored them away for another day. I'd also like to thank the academy for nominating my house as one of the not-so-filthy houses they'd seen, (although they may revoke that nomination tomorrow.)  And a big Thank You to the Internet for allowing me to share this special day with anyone who cares.  The best part about the whole thing: I still had time to play with my kids.

(wipe a tear and blow a kiss.)

in·sane

/inˈsān/
Adjective
In a state of mind that prevents normal perception, behavior, or social interaction; seriously mentally ill.
(of an action or quality) Characterized or caused by madness.
Synonyms
mad - crazy - demented - lunatic


Motherhood is a silly thing. It doesn't make you insane, it shows you how insane you already are, deep down inside. I'm starting to realize that as the days are getting longer and the nerves are wearing down; I'm forced to think about the fact that I will never be Supermom and that I'm truly... insane.

It's a good kind of insane, though. It's the type of insanity that drives a person to become a parent in the first place. See, you don't fully realize the weight of the contract when you think of starting a perfect, cute, fun (--insert any lighthearted adjective here--) little family, but you are rallying yourself up for quite a long and arduous journey, something beyond dirty diapers and sisterly cat fights. Yours becomes a life of worry and self doubt. You put yourself in the very relentless grasp of Torture by Whining. You sacrifice your physical body beyond just giving birth; it's all the bending over for something dropped or spilled on the floor and the permanent right shoulder sag from the daily weight of a diaper bag or infant car seat. And those are just in the first years of your parenthood. If you willingly sign up for all those things and countless other parental grievances, you are, by definition, truly insane. "Normal" people steer clear of uncomfortable situations like that, yet we as parents commit to a lifetime of it.

Why?

Well, I propose that we are every bit as brilliant as we are insane. In Brilliancy's favor, I think it does outshine any kind of monotony to which Parenthood contributes. We, the parents of the next generation, have got Creative Brilliance down pat.  In the primal sense, we gave life to those little rugrats because humans feel the invisible force to create.  It's by pure nature that we want to experience and perpetuate life like 99.9% of all biotic things.  The brilliancy behind the natural inclination is interwoven with complete insanity given the simple fact that we already know, or have an inkling at least, what kind of life we're getting ourselves into--yet we do it anyway.  Whether we are conscious of our brilliancy or not, we're setting ourselves up for a lifetime of not only the discomfort, but the inexplicable, unmitigated feeling of happiness that comes only from being a mother or father.

Before I had children, I would observe the interactions of parents with their youngsters and would try to empathize with them so I could set the right expectation for myself in order to form a logical and informed decision for my own future.  I noticed soon that there were many things about children that I was not keen on--the smells, the bodily fluids, the grime, the sass, the whining, the... well, you get the point.  Then I would pay attention to the smiles that parents would flash whether they were the result of a child's full-effort given, or a funny phrase spoken, or even a reaction to a completely new experience. I could tell that the parents were happy, but I did not even grasp their level of happiness.  I could not, because I wasn't a parent yet; I did not understand that those same little rugrats who drool and scream also give a powerful dose of joy that cannot be matched by any drug.

Well, you know the story for me: insanity and brilliancy won.  I became like most other people at some point--a parent--and it gives me pleasure to admit that I am not unique in that sense. Though I may have been at war with my children today, in realizing that my choice was formed from that crazy psychological potion, I find an odd comfort.  I have many more reasons, mostly religious, to find peace with my choice to have children, but I can say that even lately when the girls and I are constantly butting heads, I wouldn't have traded it for the world.

(No one has their hair brushed and we're taking a picture in the bathroom... That's just how we roll these days.)

#FelízMamasDay

I'll just come out with it: I'm spoiled.  This Mother's Day I wasn't surprised with an exotic vacation, new wardrobe, or spa gift card; rather I got a gift every mother would agree is the BEST gift a child or the father of your children could give: a day of pure consideration.

Siena actually gave me my gift on Saturday with a surprise "Mother's Day Breakfast" she concocted herself.  She must have sneaked downstairs while Juan and I were still sleeping because neither of us knew she had this planned (and unfortunately, she didn't know it wasn't officially Mother's Day yet; when she found out the news that Mother's Day was on Sunday, she was a little crushed that her labors had been performed on the wrong day.)  Her breakfast masterpiece?  " Breakfast Lunchables"--made with Wheat Thins, strawberry yogurt and vanilla yogurt, all topped with Craisins.  I am still so honored that she made that all for me for Mother's Day.  Pure consideration.

The next huge wave of thoughtfulness happened Sunday morning.  While I bathed the girls and got them ready for church, Juan was busy in the kitchen preparing a delicious breakfast of crêpes with homemade whipped cream and freshly sliced strawberries.  It was a scrumptious start to the Sabbath.  He even cleaned up the kitchen!!  Pure consideration.

After church we changed our clothes and Juan took us all on a picnic up the canyon.  He had prepared the whole thing so I didn't even have to lift a finger.  The weather was perfect so after we ate, we took a nice family drive up the canyon to Squaw Peak to show the girls the Overlook to the valley.  We happened to get up there right as about a dozen paragliders were preparing to take off.  It was kind of fun to see the whole process, as we don't know much about the sport.

We drove home and Juan started preparing dinner while I completed his mom's Mother's Day gift from the family (a planter with herbs we grew this Spring and flowers. Why had I never thought of that before??)  Once we arrived at his parents' house, the moms were directed not to do a thing but relax which was a little difficult because the guilt was weighing on me.  :)  Dinner was amazing, as was dessert and we didn't have to clean up at all.  (Can you tell that I don't really like to clean?) 

When we arrived, Juan cleaned the kitchen again while I organized my ribbon stash (...and then somehow wound up crafting.)  He didn't leave a single dish unclean or a single countertop cluttered.  Pure consideration.  

He really is a man who thinks of others more than himself and puts his family first in his life.  I couldn't have asked for more and this Mother's Day reminded me of that over and over again.

Juan's kitchen gadget gift to me: my favorite type of can opener. We haven't stumbled across one in a while and we've been looking, so I consider this gift a definite WIN. :)

Sunday:

(When it comes to family pictures, we'll take what we can get....)

 Saturday: