...Transparent Mama...

A New Kind of Christmas

2011-12-22T11:19:00.000-08:00

Christmas used to be-

making ornaments with my mom,

climbing the ladder to the roof with dad to "help" hang the lights,

buying a flocked Christmas tree,

making sugar cookies from scratch and frosting them on the counter,

opening one gift Christmas Eve,

sleeping with my sister and staring at her until she said, "yes, now we can get up!"

Then walking out to our living room to see what magic had occurred in the night.

Then Christmas changed-

we still made ornaments with mom,

and sometimes bought a flocked tree,

and my sister and mom began hanging the lights,

and Christmas Eve was at dad's house, Christmas morn at mom's.

We made sugar cookies and frosted them on our kitchen counter.

Then two families came in to play and Christmas became for many years-

Christmas Eve at Grandma Betty's, then on to my mother's house that same night.

We awoke did a quick Christmas morning, then showered and hustled over to HH's parents for a big Christmas Brunch where both our families gathered.

Then Christmas night was turkey soup and stockings

at Grandma Dody and Grandpa Don's.

We made sugar cookies from scratch and frosted them on the kitchen counter and gave them out to family and friends.

HH's grandparents moved to Big Bear, then his parents to Reno and it all changed again.

Brunch moved to our house, we started new traditions of photos with Santa as a family, baking cookies together and frosting them on mom's kitchen counter.

And we made it work, embraced the new, found a way to be together.

I've been spoiled the last few years since we moved.

We've flown to California, had Christmas with both of our families a little early, but still we got to have Christmas together.

This year it is a totally new kind of Christmas. We didn't fly back.

HH can't get the time off and he will work Christmas Eve.

I'm adjusting.

The kids made the cool snowflakes shown above, I shipped all the gifts to family, all the shopping is done, wrapping looms ahead, but I do feel a little bereft.

I'm a tradition lover and there is a big chunk missing this year.

Life goes on as it tends to do...

HH is making gorgeous furniture in our garage (photo is in process... final photo later).

The older boys have been skiing a lot with their buddies on the mountain even though we

still wait for a big dumping of snow.

And I'm certain I'm not the only one dealing with newness and change and difference this year.

Loved ones have been lost, sickness has come, finances are strangling, family isn't near.

The thing about life is that you can't stop it from changing.

This girl wants to throw a fit about that sometimes, but then I remember things usually go south when I try to be in charge

But Christmas is a birth we are celebrating, right?

It's about Him who loved us enough to be born of flesh.

And that's about newness.

An everlasting, unchanging, beautiful NEWNESS!

And there is one other tiny little thing that hasn't changed.

We still...

make sugar cookies

from scratch

and frost them

on the kitchen counter!

Merry Christmas to you with love!

I wish I could give you a hug with that wish.

Grateful

2011-11-24T10:34:00.000-08:00

Life is full of surprises.

Good and bad.

But, it is full.

And whatever our circumstances,

we are called to have hearts full of gratefulness.

To find joy and peace in the midst.

To focus on what the gifts are.

I stand in abundance today.

Grateful for my mother in my kitchen filling the bellies of my sweet children.

For my husband, solid and steady, at the fire station today.

Already a hero.

For little boys who argue and fight, but will throw leaves in the air laughing and will turn up the music loud and dance with me in the kitchen.

For family not with me who I LOVE and wish I could sit at a table with today. Next year.

For light streaming through my windows.

For opportunities I would never have dreamed of asking for.

For abundance, not perfection.

For life, not always easy.

For all the little ways my God shows me His love.

The still rounded belly of my youngest.

Three generations together making stuffing at midnight. Chopping, sauteing, breathing in the moment.

An encouraging word from a friend or a stranger.

A sunrise of fresh created colors.

Abundance.

Gratefulness.

Seeing it.

Drinking it in.

May your heart overflow with gratefulness today.

A gift all its own.

I ordered this Family Rules sign from Tara & Andrew Lowry. They did a phenomenal job creating a sign with our personal family rules. I love it. A daily reminder to us and our children, just who we are.

Happy Thanksgiving Friends.

Fall In Review, Winter's Debut

2011-11-13T20:59:00.000-08:00

Snowflakes are softly falling outside my window. It's not of the sticking kind yet, but winter is certainly weaving its way in and making sure fall finds the exit door.

Spring in California was always my favorite season. I loved the flowers blooming, the warmer weather and jasmine blossoms in the night air. Spring in Montana is yuck— wet, grey, cold.

But, fall here is magnificent and it's now my new favorite season.

As we welcome winter only because it means we get to ski, I wanted to share some photos of our fall.

The pumpkin patch...

And Halloween...

Seriously, how clever is that JACK in the Box.

And my sister made the lion costume years ago when her twins were two (they are 15 now).

My glue gun is my friend. It helped me make this toothpaste costume.

So goodbye fall...

We will miss you.

Three Secrets to A Healthy Marriage

2011-11-02T14:34:00.000-07:00

I wrote that title with my tongue firmly planted in my cheek. Not because I don't feel I have any authority to speak on this issue, but because it sounds like I'm writing a Family Circle or Woman's Day article. A little corny.

Today is my 15 year wedding anniversary with Hottie Husband and I think making it that long and truly being happy for the breadth of it, does give me some authority and wisdom in this area. We have recently watched marriages crumble around us and it is just so sad. I don't have another word for it.

My heart is to share what helps, what works, how letting go of "self" is the only way to flourish.

So here are my handy dandy marriage tips–

1) Give up your right to be right. It's not worth it. How can being right in a discussion or argument possibly help? It doesn't. Instead, brush right past the "who is right" part and look for a different way to make it work. You might be thinking... but, then he'll always think he's right... REALLY? So what! Just think how happy he'll be. And really, try to avoid those kinds of arguments anyway. It gets you nowhere. Honestly, I don't even remember the last time we had a discussion involving a scenario where we were trying to be the one who is "right."

2) Respect and Love Circle- Here is where my husband keeps us on track. Years ago, he heard a talk on Christian radio about respect and love in marriage. You may be totally familiar with this, but for those of you who aren't, the short version is that men really, really want respect and women really, really want love. But, there is this catchy circle in a marriage that if a man is not feeling like his wife respects him, he's not going to show her the love and then she will be even more likely to put him down, treat him without any respect, ect. and then he will pull away the love even more. Of course, it can also start with him not showing love, her feeling unloved, lashing out, he feels like he's not respected, and things get ugly.

The solution. Stop the cycle. Somebody has to do it. Respond with respect. Tell him how proud you are of the work he does, how great he is with the kids, how you see him working so hard to provide for your family. To be honest, I get a little (just a little) feisty and riled up about things sometimes. Do you know what my husband does? He stops me, he kisses me, he tells me how much he loves me. And stubborn girl that I am, I think, "Oh, he's doing that love thing." But, it always works.

3) Accountability. This one is our lifeline. You cannot just be accountable to yourself or your spouse. For us, we both know that the other is accountable to God for our actions. This is in the big things as well as the small things. Infidelity may be a sin, but so is anger.

It also means letting go of trying to fix each other. We are only in charge of ourselves. I'll say that again— We are only in charge of ourselves. Neither of us is perfect; but God is constantly working on both of us. And that's a comfort. It means we don't have to work to fix each other. We can rest in the knowledge that God is in it with us.

Here's last year's post about my wedding with lots of photos of that day.

And please don't get me wrong, I know things can be complicated and hard and I may have it easy, but if even a small portion of this makes things a little better, provokes thought or helps a newlywed, then that's a good thing I think.

Spurs

2011-10-28T11:04:00.000-07:00

I think Montana has had a creative effect on me. Since moving here, I've written a novel, created an online magazine and now I'm launching a business with a dear friend. And we already have more clients than we imagined.

You can check us out here if you feel nosy : ). We are still under construction and launching this week, but crazy super fun busy.

All of this has interrupted my personal blogging time. And I miss you guys.

Can I tell you that I would've never gotten here without being first a mom blogger? It is the creativity I've witnessed by other women and mothers across blogland that has spurred me on. It has caused me to want to know more, create better photographs, form friendships with women I may never see face to face, paint furniture, cook beautiful food and be a better mother.

So this is my little thank you note. Thank you for being the women you are. Thank you for being creative, pushing the limits, using social media for good, and for being authentic. Thanks for spurring me on by being your best selves.

Settling In

2011-10-07T12:40:00.000-07:00

It's raining outside and I'm waiting for the Direct TV guy to come hook up our cable. We moved in a week ago today and I'm suddenly exhausted. It was a week of unpacking, cleaning the old place, washing and ironing (not an everyday occurrence) bedskirts and drapery panels and organizing and purging. The boys are settled in their new rooms and Little Bear walks around saying, "I like the new house. I like the new house."

Mister Luke and Jackie Boy ride their bikes to school each morning and Toots rides or walks with us. Everything is so close. A friend of mine said, "It's like living in a little village." And she's right.

I'm starting to feel settled. Not just in our new home, but in Whitefish. Somehow, living in this new home feels like we are here to stay. And we think that's a good thing.

But, I can't help but feel nostalgic. To think of how life just moves forward. Always moving forward. And I'm ever wishing for a pause button so I can take it all in. I just LOVe life so much. I've got my computer set to go through the 24,222 photos I have on it as a screensaver and there is- Toots as a baby, Luke playing t-ball, Jack as a policeman in preschool, a lunch with my sister and mom, a birthday celebrated with family at our California home, HH and I on an anniversary trip to Avalon. The slideshow is so amazing to watch- our life on miniature pause buttons. One blessing after another.

I missed my mom and sister and mom-in-law and dad during the move. I'm used to them taking over, filling in the gaps, helping with the kids, cleaning, organizing my new kitchen. But, I was grateful for the friends we've made- bringing groceries, making dinner, watching our children, moving furniture, offering a trailer. We are truly blessed with good friends.

And I feel like something has been restored. I can't pinpoint it yet. But, there is something we've been given back. It could be the space in this home or the fact that friends gather after school in the yard, or a place in the community. But, God is doing something there. I'm certain.

Thanks for reading. For caring about me. For being there. It means so much. xo

A New Season

2011-09-28T20:51:00.000-07:00

Every morning this week, the most lovely sunrises have greeted us.

The beams like gateways to the heavens, the colors magnificent.

I have better photos, more accurate photos taken with my big girl camera.

But, I'm so tired right now and could only handle uploading from one device.

The iPhone won.

It's our last week with this view of the lake from what has seemed like a long stay (2 years) at a vacation home.

And I will miss this view and the rumbling of the train passing under our windows.

I will miss Little Bear saying "good morning lake" and "train coming."

It is the place that was our landing spot here in Montana.

It's clear we are headed into a new season.

To a home where I will finally unpack and settle.

Before we moved, we'd spent ten years remodeling, painting, fixing, designing.

And we were tired and burnt out.

So, we did nothing to this house to make it our own. We've lived in it like a vacation home, never unpacking all the boxes.

In this new season, we are moving "into town."

The kids will walk to school.

We will ride our bikes into town and to church and to the high school football games.

We will live on the street where all the trick or treaters go on Halloween and we will be near good friends.

We will have a big fenced yard (we haven't had one), and a huge garden to plant, and a finished basement and the most amazing amount of storage I've ever seen.

The older boys will have their own rooms for the first time.

I will have my own office space. YAY!

These are some photos of the few things we've already moved.

And the biggest laundry room ever.

Ours has been the entry to our home for the last two year. Ughh!

The boys set up our camping table in the yard tonight and ate dinner while I unpacked a few boxes.

They can't wait.

I'm excited too. I like change and I like the purging of "stuff" that goes along with a move.

But, still.

I can't help but feel it's bittersweet.

We'll never get that time back and a season is ending

I'll post more photos of the house soon.

The Life You've Imagined

2011-09-19T22:44:00.000-07:00

I found this pillow in a store a few weeks ago.

the life you've imagined...

Honestly, I feel overwhelmed, blessed to be doing just that.

But what did I imagine?

At one point, I imagined being a lawyer, driving a red Ferrari and being very rich,

... and then I turned twenty-two and learned that I no longer wanted

to be who I was creating myself to be.

I wanted to be who I was supposed to be.

And my imaginings changed to...

a husband who loves me

four children at my skirts

a home warm; a dog at my feet

writing a novel

friends loyal, funny, kind, authentic

camping, skiing, boating

prayer

church on sundays

family

dinner together nightly

travel

serving

But HOW do you live the life you've imagined?

I don't know all the answers.

Problems, tragedy, illness, yuck...often gets in the way.

But I do know that sometimes (most times) the yuck is what you have to walk through to get there.

And I know that this...

give thanks in all things

... THIS is the thing that changes everything.

And I know that stepping out in faith, taking a risk, not knowing if there is solid ground around the next corner, but stepping anyway out of sheer belief that His plans are good...

Well, that is a whole different level of walking and it brings blessings you can't even fathom.

A life you wouldn't even have dreamed up because it would have been too audacious to have dreamed such a thing.

Our pastor told a story this weekend about his daughter. They were on their way to Disneyland, tickets printed and in his back pocket. But, they had to stop at the mall on the way. And at the mall, there was a tiny carousel his daughter wanted to ride. He tried to explain where they were headed (she'd never been before). He described the magic kingdom in the most glorious words he could muster.

But, she wanted to ride that tiny carousel in circles in front of a shoe store in a mall instead.

He compared that to us. How God has so much to show us, but we get distracted by a tiny carousel in the mall in front of a shoe store and so we get on and ride it in circles, thinking that's all there is.

All the while, God has so much more for us... a magical kingdom... that he can't wait to show us.

But, often we'd rather just stay on our tiny safe carousel, going in small circles.

I don't know about you, but I don't want to ride in small circles.

I want it all. All of what He has for me in this life.

I want what I've imagined and what I wouldn't dare imagine.

And it's not a lot of money, or a Ferrari, or the perfect home.

It's doing every. single. thing. I was meant to do.

How about you?

What is the life you imagined?

If it's within your power, go after it.

It can be as small as sitting down as a family for a meal

or saying a prayer

or creating art

or repairing something broken

or reading a book to your child.

But please, if you've been stuck going in circles in a windowless mall,

get off the carousel and step out in faith.

LIVE THE LIFE YOU'VE IMAGINED.

My New Love... Spray paint!

2011-09-09T11:24:00.000-07:00

I'm in love.

With spray paint.

I have painted many a thing in my lifetime. And never liked it.

Taping, priming, waiting, sanding, painting, waiting, ughhh!

I'm a girl who likes to start and finish a project in one day.

And I recently tried out spray paint on a piece of furniture I like, but don't love.

This goes along with my new "thing" of wanting to "love" everything I choose to have in my home.

It started out like this. A cute enough desk, but not completely my style.

No sanding necessary when using KILZ Spray paint Primer. Fabulous product.

Then I used some Krylon Ivory and Krylon Black spray paint on the piece.

Removed the hardware and sprayed one coat of Krylon Bronzed Metallic on it. Weee, this is so easy.

Added some glaze and sanded down the edges to make it a little shabby like I like it and voila...

NOW, this is a piece I will "love" having in our home.

And the cute little chair.

By the way, we are moving to a great new house.

That's whats got me all excited about decorating.

More about that later.

The Bull Thing

2011-09-01T12:16:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, we got all cowboyed up.

Actually, just the two youngest... the two eldest had a great time locating all the cowboy gear for their little brothers.

None of them seemed to realize that boys don't tuck their jeans into their boots.

THEY thought those BOOTS should SHOW!

Grandma was in town (a surprise for my 39th ughh birthday) and friends had invited us to

"The BULL Thing!"

That meant it was a rodeo and it was ALL bulls.

Little Bear thought he was dressing like Woody from The Toy Story and Toots is still just young enough to be excited to dress up.

And me... well, the idea of taking photos...

of this guy... dressed like this...

it was like candy.

Or ice cream.

With chocolate syrup

and whipped cream and a cherry.

Have I mentioned I'm trying to diet today?

But, you get the idea.

It was a treat!

And when the kids saw the bulls...in this little town called Eureka which is about 8 miles from the Canadian Border... all of their faces looked like this.

Not this. No, this is the "I'm not so sure about this burrito you just fed me mom" face.

Not the... wow, look at those bulls mom face.

But, his eyes... oh, those eyes just warm my heart.

The Bull Thing was pretty amazing.

And for reasons unexpected.

They opened the event in prayer and closed it with

in Jesus name, amen.

And during the event, when these brave or crazy bull riders were competing,

and the brave or crazy bull fighters (or rodeo clowns) were doing their job, the one right behind the bull dressed kind of wacky was injured by a bull.

He was on the ground out cold and they were bringing the ambulance in and we were all worried.

And the announcer asked everyone to raise their hands and pray for that man.

Hands went up. Prayers were said. He walked out of the ambulance and my son, my six year old said-

mom, we prayed for him and God healed him.

I smiled and said a silent thank you to the announcerman whose boldness gave my son a spiritual monument.

It was a thing of beauty to watch all of these cowboys work together.

Control their horses, pull riders out of the pen when a bull started slamming around violently, opening the gate, distracting these giant animals to keep every one of those brave or crazy bull riders as safe as possible.

And I have to tell you

that it made me fall in love with Montana even a little bit more.

It's my big sister's birthday today.

I love her.

She is funny.

And sassy.

And outgoing.

And a fantastic mother.

And lights up a room.

You would love her.

The Huck Hunt!

2011-08-23T09:57:00.000-07:00

Our Sunday.

It was lovely.

Not perfect. Not easy all the way around.

But lovely. A family day.

It started out with making it to church on time. Everyone found both of their shoes. We had coffee and creamer at the same time. Nobody had to use the facilities just as we were walking out the door. A rarity.

And the message was solid and filling.

Check out Fresh Life Church...it is taking the state of Montana by storm. The young pastor Levi Lusko is a true teacher and you can watch all his messages online.

At home, I made a brunch of breakfast burritos and banana pancakes.

The boys set the table on the deck and gathered flowers for a centerpiece.

We ate brunch overlooking the lake.

It was hot. We were a little sweaty and hornets swooped in now and then.

But, it was still good.

It is Huckleberry Hunting season in Montana the only hunting season we participate in and we hadn't yet picked one huckleberry.

This is one of the things I love best about living here.

Huckleberries aren't farmed and sold in the grocery store. They only grow at certain elevations and you truly have to hunt for them. They are a favorite food of bears, so you also have to be aware and make lots of noise. We don't have a problem with this. And once you find a good patch, you don't tell ANYONE where it is. This is serious business here in Montana.

So we set out on our hunt.

We arrived at the mountain ready to hike.

Then, HH informed me that the patch he'd found last year involved hiking straight up the mountain.

It would be no gradual, weaving trail.

I followed close behind

Then, not so close behind.

Then realized that my absence from the gym the last two months was not such a good idea.

I mean, geez... it was steep and straight up.

But, those boys were so good.

You okay mom?

Weave a little back and forth mom... it makes it easier.

But, I thought of huckleberries.

This was a hike for a cause.

It was an adventure.

I would make it.

We found our patch.

And picked and picked.

And yes, HH carried a 30 pound child on his back up that hill no problem but he climbs stairs with a tank on his back for a living now so that's not fair.

Our fingers stained huckleberry purple.

We ate and picked and honestly... I could have stayed and picked all afternoon.

I love picking and watching the bag fill.

I wanted it full, but dinner time was closing in and we had one more special thing planned.

We ran by the market, grabbed vanilla ice cream and some dinner for a picnic, then headed to the boat.

We would picnic at sunset on the lake.

Toasting HH's Grandpa Don he passed away a few months ago and it was his birthday and eating our dinner on a hot summer night as the sun set while we floated...it was dreamy.

And the fact that we ran out of gas and had to be rescued by a dock boy from the marina didn't damper it a bit. Really, it didn't.

The night ended with one of the best things in the world.

Huckleberry Shakes.

Yum!

Seriously, I wish I could pour some for you right now because these are ridiculously good.

We think huckleberries and vanilla ice cream were made for each other.

The End of Waiting

2011-08-18T09:05:00.000-07:00

My husband went to work today... he's a fireman.

This may seem like a small statement. A regular, everyday description of our lives. But, it's not. Rather, it is the end of waiting. The fruit of trusting and believing and digging in to the vision.

When we packed up a U-haul one year and nine months ago and uprooted our family from our hometown in California and drove away from friends and family and familiarity and into Montana, it was after a year of testing. Hard testing.

A seed had been planted four years earlier. A seed about a life in Montana, a state neither of us had ever spent any time in. And that seed was nourished. We envisioned HH taking his building talents and the money we would make on the house we were building. We would buy land, build spec houses, make a living.

HH built this entire house, all the cabinets, the island, nearly everything... over a 10 year period while holding a regular job. Also, while we created our family.

But, then time passed and life changed. We finished the house and put it on the market. Days later, the stock market crashed and the real estate market took a hard dive. It would be a year before the house would sell after many price reductions. It would be a year where the building business suffered too. We were tested. We stood on the precipice of losing everything we'd spent ten years building. And it was hard. The kind of hard where silence takes over because there is nothing more to say.

I'd like to say that this was a time when we dug into our faith, hit our knees, opened the Book to the words in red. But, it wasn't. It was a time of frozen waiting for Him to show up. It was also the months I was pregnant with Little Bear, the time when I started blogging.

A year after putting it on the market, we had one offer. And it was from a family made up of a married man and his pregnant mistress. He wanted to hide the house from his wife; buy it without her knowing. He wanted "creative financing." We were tempted. Lose it all or compromise.

We'd written scripture on the walls of that house. We'd inscribed, "He is our mighty Fortress!" in permanent marker under the primer and paint. We trusted Him. But, after a year, this was the only offer. The Montana seed was long smothered, but the house needed to sell regardless.

We said no. And it was not a "no" rooted in our own strength. We found out later that one of our closest friends, who lived continents away, had been fasting and praying for us. He felt he'd been called to fast for us... and this still makes me cry... for thirty days. He went without for 30 days on our behalf.

We said no and a week later we received a great offer from a sweet family. The heavy burden lifted, clarity came quick and that long planted seed sprouted and grew. We would go and we wouldn't go to build. HH had always wanted to be fireman and it became clear that this was the career he should pursue.

This was the day we left.

My friend once said that HH is like a ship. He cuts through the water steady and strong. And that has been true of him these last few years. He's volunteered at the local fire department, taken classes, and pursued the goal. Honestly, I doubted at times. Wanted him to try for other careers, knowing it was a difficult position to find. We watched local fire departments struggle with budget cuts. But, he continued to cut through the waters. To believe.

And then a few weeks ago he was hired. And not in Seattle where he'd applied. And not in Spokane. And not in Bozeman or Missoula. Not anywhere where he would need to commute. He was hired as a fireman here, where we live.

This is his volunteer locker. Don't have any pics yet from the new department.

So you see, it is no small statement for me to say...

My husband went to work today. He's a fireman.

The Baby Bird Can Fly

2011-08-10T20:02:00.000-07:00

I awoke this morning to the sound of Toots saying- mom, the baby bird can fly!

This is the moment we'd been waiting for.

You see, mother bird built her nest before our very eyes.

Choosing a spot on the ledge of a window where the boys could perch on our stairs and watch her as if she were under a microscope.

You could say they had a bird's eye view.

It's an art the way she formed a protective resting place for her eggs.

Here she is saying...

what are you looking at?

And am I safe here?

Yes, yes, you are safe little mama bird.

Then, days later she presented our excited eyes with these beauties.

I loved hearing the voices...

Mom, mom, mom... the mama bird laid her eggs.

At first, every time we walked up or down the stairs, she fluttered away from the window, leaving the eggs she was busy warming with her heat.

Eventually, she grew accustomed to our movements, our noses pressed against the window and stopped fleeing each time we passed.

The kids couldn't help but check the nest each day to see if the eggs had hatched.

And then, one day...

there were two newborn robins and then

there were three.

Fragile and simple in their new life.

We wondered at how they had fit within the vibrant blue shells and how they'd possibly survive.

Toots fretted about them.

Mama... do you think they'll live?

Yes, I do.

How do you know?

Because. Look at their mama. She is a good mother. She feeds them and protects them.

Oh. Like you mommy.

And with that, my six year old gave me a moment I'll store away in my heart for always.

A week later, Jackie Boy came to me with the news that two were gone from the nest.

It hadn't been long enough for them to be fledglings. Flight was not possible.

We searched for them on the ground.

We mourned the two, sadness dipping into our bellies like it does.

Suddenly, the one had doubled its size and the boys wondered if he'd eaten the other two.

Feathers took the place of the pink newness.

Mama sat outside the nest, watching her baby grow.

Last night the new robin hopped out of its nest and slept alone in a corner, mother not in sight.

And this morning the nest was empty and I heard—

Mama... the baby bird can fly!

Time... Grab it!

2011-07-29T12:00:00.000-07:00

Our first month of summer has been busy. Baseball busy. Travel team busy. Practice busy.

And I love baseball. Love the team. Love the travel even.

But, now that we are home, can I just tell you how happy I am to just "be" with my family?

This week I sat on the floor with Little Bear and pushed an airplane back and forth.

I watched his face light up, his little feet wriggle.

We took his sippy cup yes that is the wrong lid for a wild ride

and we laughed.

I sat for hours and played Monopoly and got a swift butt kicking from my eldest son.

I love games. I love having kids old enough to play games with me.

And we headed to the golf course to hit balls.

Where I did not hit one ball, but instead took pictures.

And got looks from HH saying, "Why are you taking pictures at the driving range?"

To his look, I said with my own look and a shrug,

"Because that's what I do. I document our very sweet good life."

Walking Alone

2011-07-26T10:43:00.000-07:00

This morning I was going to meet a friend at a trail head to hike.

I got up early, anticipating her gentle companionship along the trail, our dogs leading the way.

But, she couldn't make it and so...

I walked alone.

I love to be alone so this normally wouldn't be a problem, but I was a little nervous because I was in the woods with not a soul in sight.

And apparently I've seen too many episodes of Criminal Minds because I started picturing a scary man in the woods, jumping out from the trees with a Tazer and dragging me off in a van.

This also has something to do with my mother always giving me the "worst case scenario" as a child before I ever did ANYthing.

It also has something to do with being raised in LA and not Montana.

My mind is trained to be wary of... well everything.

Luckily, I had my girl with me.

And her excitement to be free on the trail was contagious.

I thought about fear and how it likes to be a thief, and rob us of moments that could be times of peace or joy or gratefulness.

So, I walked the path and looked for beauty to be my companion.

And found it.

I walked smiling at the incredible variety of creation,

at my chocolate girl glancing back at me to make sure I was still there,

at the rain drops making their way through the tree canopy to my skin.

And I thought about new paths that we sometimes must take alone.

But, we aren't alone.

He is always there, just before us, causing flowers to bloom along our path, falling a tree to block the wrong direction, calming us with just the whisper of His name.

Gems Along the Road

2011-07-21T10:57:00.000-07:00

The boys won State. And if you want to read that story and see how they celebrated "Montana Style", head over here to my online magazine and read the article about the team. It's a cool story.

We made it home for a few days to launder, get some work done and then made the 10 plus hour drive to Meridian, Idaho for the regional competition. I'm sitting in the hotel now, with my boys next door in my mom-in-laws room and the team is out practicing. Ahhhh!

This is a nice hotel, lovely in fact, as "team" hotels go. Especially, compared to the doozie we stayed in a few nights ago on the way here. But "that" I'll leave for another post. That is not the "gem" I want to tell you about.

The "gem" we found on our way out of Lewistown. Someone suggested we take the team to a market to buy some ice cream. I am so glad they did. It was an Amish market.

This was the father and owner. Here, he is congratulating some of our boys on their win.

These ladies, in their traditional Amish white caps called "coverings", serve up scoops of Huckleberry ice cream.

I loved wandering the store.

and purchased some Raspberry Jam.

They had home baked bread and

Amish made Fine Noodles.

Now, I'm wishing I'd bought these because I am curious about what makes them different.

These were pre-made mixes for chocolate chip cookies, breads, sugar cookies and more.

The most wonderful site in the whole store was not the food though.

It was this little red-headed boy with bright blue eyes, sitting on a stool by the cash register.

I wonder what he was thinking, watching our whole crew of boys.

And I wonder what it is like to live like they do.

The simplicity appeals to me.

Is their life less stressful, less complicated? Is their work hard but simple?

I don't know really. But, I do know I loved watching them and just being in that gem of a place.

Road Trippin It for State

2011-07-15T10:18:00.000-07:00

I have always loved road trips.

Every summer when I was little, our family would pack up whatever car we owned, usually an Oldsmobile, and head from California to South Dakota to see my grandparents.

Driving through the midwest in the summer was always exciting. My favorite part was the thunderstorms and driving through wild weather. That, and stopping at strange tourist trap attractions that my dad was always good for.

This weekend, we road tripped it to Lewistown, Montana with a bunch of families and the weather didn't disappoint. Crazy thunderstorm, sheets of rain, stopping on the side of the road to wait it out.

But, we made it to Lewistown, Montana for the 11 year old State Championship Tournament.

There is a sign on our wall at home that reads, "We interrupt this family for baseball season."

And it's pretty much true. But, it is a sport equally loved by all of us, so it works out.

Funny thing is that I am scared of the ball, never played a team sport, but LOVE watching the game.

Hottie Husband had changed his sport to football by the time we started dating in high school. So, I never got to watch him play his first love- baseball. Yesterday, I entered him in the dad's home run derby and finally got to watch him play a little bit. He hit seven out of ten out of the park and won.

I loved it!

Here are all the kids trying to catch the dad's hits.

But, this is the guy we came to watch play.

Our catcher.

Mister Luke.

But, this guy likes to get in on the action too.

And HH's mom and dad made the road trip out from Reno, NV to support the team too.

They don't really like to ever miss a game.

And here is our fearless bat boy

who sometimes like to monkey around.

We have a few more days here.

Loving to play...

but hoping to win!

Ahhhh Summer

2011-07-12T08:57:00.000-07:00

I didn't used to fully understand the phrase, "long winter."

But, now I do.

Though we love the sun and our fresh powder skiing weekends,

we do not enjoy a dreary, grey wet spring.

So, when summer made its debut with temperatures in the eighties a few weeks ago, we were really all like

ahhhhhhhh!

Thank you summer for coming. We love you. Stay long. Let us play in your light.

My sister in law and her adorable kids came here last week and left this morning.

They were supposed to leave yesterday, but after sitting in our airport for three hours due to delays at their connection in Denver, we brought them back with us and played a little more.

I've know Jen since I was 17, so we've watched each other grow from "sometimes too sure of ourselves" teenagers to "not always so sure of ourselves" twenty somethings to wives and mothers and now it seems we both sit very comfortable in our own skin.

We both live in the understanding that family time is a rare, good thing and not to be squandered.

So, we lived it up.

We played Pink's "Raise Your Glass" a little too loud in the car and danced with our kids.

We hiked and talked about the hard and good things of our lives.

We watched our kids play together.

I had the joy of soaking up some girl time with these two gems.

Aunt B, How did you meet Uncle J?

Aunt B, did you know my mom in school?

Aunt B, did you know that Kesha used to hide in her mom's guitar case when she was little?

Aunt B, I texted you. Did you text me back?

Aunt B, I want to stay another week, but I have cheerleading so I can't. I wish cheerleading started when school starts.

LOVE THEM!

They endured Jackie boys six game state baseball tournament as only family could.

Then we took off to Glacier National Park for some hiking.

And Little Bear, who wanted to hike all on his own very slowly, got a fun ride from Aunt Jenny to keep our group moving.

The trip was too short as it always seemed.

But, we fit a lot in and soaked each other up.

We ziplined. So MUCH FUN!

And I only screamed a little bit on the way down.

okay, maybe a lot and wasn't too great at following the signals, but I made it

The kids even went alpine sliding.

These two are close.

I love watching how they love each other. When they were three, they tried to sock each other out.

But now, they have secret handshakes and tear up a little bit at good bye.

Thanks for coming summer.

Thanks for coming Aunt Jenny, Natalie, Michael and Michelle.

We may have eaten too much and played the music a little too loud.

But, we really had some good times. xo

Cutest Stinkin Shoes!

2011-06-28T16:07:00.000-07:00

Cleats, tennis shoes, flip flops, maybe some brown loafers to wear at Christmas.

Generally, buying shoes for boys is not all that exciting.

No pink ballet shoes or red sparkly Dorothy shoes or purple tennis shoes here.

But, alas, a few weeks ago I think I found the cutest little boys shoes ever.

So, we did a shoe photo shoot

on the kitchen chair.

I said, "Show me your shoes."

And he twisted and modeled and showed off those shoes.

The older boys (and all their friends) love that they are DCs.

I just happen to love the COLORS and

the fact that they are not velcro

and

they are not really lace up either.

The laces are elastic.

Brilliant, I tell you!

They slip right on.

I'd like to thank my oh so professional shoe model pictured above.

This is his posing face.

The Dad Life Video is Hilarious

2011-06-26T21:07:00.000-07:00

If you haven't seen this, you have to watch it. So funny!

Grandpa Don

2011-06-20T23:00:00.000-07:00

We flew into LA today after receiving bad news and will drive up to Big Bear tomorrow morning. I'm tired, need to sleep. But, one of my favorite people in the world passed away this week and I can't help but write something simple to honor him.

Most of my grandparents died when I was young or weren't present in my life. When I started dating HH during my senior year of high school, one of the things that made me love him was, crazy enough, his grandparents and his easy and close relationship with them. Both sets of grandparents along with three living great-grandparents were very present in his life. And they took this little teenage girl in like their own.

Grandpa Don or Papa Don as my kids called him passed away suddenly a few nights ago. And there is, of course, deep sadness. But, there is also this overwhelming sense of gratefulness that I got to be grafted into his lineage, part of the love. That I didn't miss out on him. Because he was great. He loved his family and we loved him.

I loved how he rode bikes with my kids or started a card game, mixed up a bloody mary or ordered steak tartar. I'll never forget the snipe hunt he sent me on during a camping trip or how my kids loved the duck like squeak he made in his cheek. I will forever love him for removing a piece of twine for footings I'd been stepping over for months while I was pregnant and our house was under construction. He was just that grandpa or uncle who took care and noticed.

The hardest part of the whole thing is that he wasn't ever just "Don." It was always "Don and Dody" or "Dody and Don." Together from the time they were 15 and married 60 years, my mind will not synapse one without the other. The two were present at every "event" in their children and grandchildren's lives. Football games, graduations, marriages, more graduations, moves across country, births of great-grandchildren, Thanksgiving, Christmas.

Always there. Ever present. Bringing good times.

To me, this is another lesson in love. Sometimes you don't have to say any wise words (not that he didn't). And sometimes you don't have to even say "I love you."

Love is showing up, lending a hand, joining in and helping when it's needed. That's his legacy.

Thanks Grandpa Don. You will be so missed and you were loved perhaps more than you ever knew.

Speaking Up

2011-06-15T16:20:00.000-07:00

I was a shy child. The girl who clung to her mother's leg and peeked from behind for a glance at the adults towering above. I had a big sister. And in the one instance when oranges were thrown at me by neighbor kids and stuck in my hair, I stood mute and walked away. I told my big sister and she was the one who defended me. She was the one who spoke up.

I was also very skinny and always had a runny nose, but that really isn't pertinent to this story.

As I got older, I learned two things. One, that I had to learn to speak up and two, that though being kind always seemed like the perfect solution to me, it wasn't something everyone embraced.

Over the years, my voice has gained power, though I try to raise it above the din only when needed. I am more confident about what I have to say and care less about what other people think. This primarily has to do with my role as MOTHER. And so I speak...

There is a boy in our community who has no mother to speak for him and his father is brash at times but can be civil and gentle. This is background.

This boy, we will call Phil, is hanging out at the sports field unsupervised. And he comes to me asking if one of my sons is okay. (The two have been in social situations before and I know Phil's reputation for causing trouble. He is unsupervised often and as you know, too much freedom for a child is disastrous.)

I look for my son and find him surrounded by a group of children, some I know and some I do not. He is holding back tears.

Come with me.

He follows and shares that this boy, Phil, hurt him with one swift hard kick.

Would you like me to talk to him?
A faint nod.

I walk with him back over to the others and they say- It's okay. We've got his back. Nobody is gonna mess with him. This group of children loving and defending my son. My heart swells.

He is me all over again. Be kind to him and he will do anything. Be cruel and he will hold it tight.

I approach Phil and wonder at the idea that he was the one to tell me something was wrong, but didn't share that he'd caused it. I make him look me in the eyes and ask for the truth. Tell him I am speaking to him just as I would my own boys, ask him to choose the good and right thing. Tell him that confessing the truth and apologizing is the only way to make things right. He says- I don't know what happened. Sobs erupt, tears stream down his face. He shoves his fists in his eyes, tries to control it.

I glance back and see the gaggle of children watching. A woman I've seen, but don't know approaches. Apparently she has some authority at this field. Her arms are crossed, her lips drawn tight, her voice harsh.

What is going on here? What did he do?

Phil and I are talking. It's okay.

NO, I want to know what happened. We can kick him out of these fields.

The incident involved my son. I'd really like the opportunity to help Phil make things right.

She stands there. Arms crossed, lips drawn tight, eyes narrowed. I try to continue, but with this audience, Phil is a clam shut tight.

Could you please give us a minute?

She looks uncertain. I can tell she is weighing her power against mine. Then she looks me up and down and says- Tell me what happens when you're done.

Fine.

We talk, he confesses. He complains that another boy beat him up and the father would do nothing. I explain that he has a reputation and that people no longer believe him, tell him the only way he can change his reputation is to start making good choices. He nods.

I tell my son about the conversation I've had with Phil. My son knows already that he must forgive. I don't need to say it. Phil apologizes and my son forgives. They shake hands and both smile. Not nervous smiles as I would have predicted, but relief smiles.

I walk away and realize that I may or may not have made an impact on this boy, but I have helped my son move past an experience he could have held onto. Instead, he is smiling and his shoulders are loose.

I go to the woman with the tight lips and arms crossed tight. She stands among others, waiting. They nod, don't smile, look at me like a crazy do-gooder who doesn't get that this boy is bad. I tell them that I won't be having this child at my house and my child will not be going to his, but if we as a community can take a moment to teach, then that is a good thing. I walk away knowing these are not my people.

Then, something I don't expect happens. The boy Phil claims beat him up (and I'm sure this boy got in a few good licks because he is tough and good and temperamental all at once and a good friend of my sons) walks toward Phil. I stop him, explain what Phil and I talked about and ask him to leave it alone. He agrees. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see him head toward Phil and I watch as he smiles and holds out his hand. Phil looks at him and places his hand in this boys palm. They shake hands and there are the genuine smiles again.

A child shouts- Let's go to the park- and that whole gaggle of kids run together toward the park.

Glory Moments

2011-06-13T09:46:00.000-07:00

This baseball season, we really wanted Jackie Boy (our 10 year old) to be able to move up into Mister Luke's league (for 11 and 12s). Some of his friends moved up and it just makes our family life easier. Hottie Husband coaches them both, less practices to keep track of, less games. The ability level is there. The problem was he hadn't played two years in Whitefish Baseball, which was the rule.

I was annoyed. It is a silly rule. He's been playing tournament ball in California since he was five. But, we let it go sort of and he played with the tens. In this case, it turned out best for our guy.

When you have kids as close as ours in age (16 months apart) it is easier sometimes to have the younger one go along with the older. It pushes them, makes them better, makes the family schedule easier. If we'd pushed in this instance, he'd have lost an opportunity to make good friends his own age. And he'd have lost an opportunity to shine.

He never would have pitched with the older kids because there are so many good pitchers. But yesterday, his team had to beat the lead team twice to win the championship game. And he got to pitch and pitch and pitch, giving up only two runs in six innings.

They beat that team once and then beat them twice.

He pitched the final pitch... strike three.. and ran for his coach,

caught his friend and teammate in the air,

and celebrated joyfully.

I loved this next moment. He's was running out to the field with his friends and heard his dad call his name

and he turned back for a hug.

It was a moment he would have missed if we'd pushed for our way.

It's that hard line though. Request a teacher or not? Push for something for them or not?

I thought I need to fight for him to play where he was suited.

But, it is another one of those instances where I didn't know best.

Of course, it isn't lost on me that I do this with God all the time.

Knowing always that if I push for my way,

He might just let me have it.

But, and this is a big but

the consequence is that I'll miss the glory moment.

Because when we want what's better.

He has what's best.

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Mud Boy's Alter Ego

2011-06-11T10:29:00.000-07:00

Today we woke up after nine.

Summer is here and I am delighted.

Having the boys home, not making lunches, not hounding about homework, not wearing my taxi driver hat.

I know it is Saturday, but this will continue...

It is a relief. A welcome break.

Our last day or I should say MY last day of school looked like this.

Wake up. Drive kids to school in pjs. Drive home. Get a call from Mister Luke. He forgot something. Can I drive back to school and bring it? Of course. Brush my teeth. Put on pants. Drive back to school. Deliver item with Little Bear Still in pjs. Drive home. Jackie Boy calls. MOM-you need to pay three dollars NOW on our lunch account or we can't get our report cards. I WILL shower first. Wrap birthday gift for party later. Throw in laundry. Get dressed. Drive to school. Pay three dollars. You need seventy more cents. Walk to car with Little Bear. Pull sticky quarters and dimes from change catch in car. Pay seventy cents. 11:30- school is out. Pick up one, two and three boys. Drive to store to pick up hamburger buns for after school party. Drive to party. Make hamburger patties. Help set up tables. Take two to another party. Drive home to get baseball uniforms for the night. Drive back to pick up Toots at party #1. He goes to a friends house. Drive to second party to pick up Mister Luke. Drive to baseball fields. Sits in car to put on uniform. MOM-you forgot my cup. Drive to pick up Jackie Boy. Back to baseball fields. He puts on uniform. MOM- You forgot my cup. Seriously, those things are always in my car or purse or kitchen counter. How can I have forgotten?

Drive home to find said baseball cups. Only find one. Drive to pick up Toots from friends house. Back to baseball fields. Game is about to start. Carry screaming Little Bear who wants to "walk my myself" and run to field to deliver cup. Stand between two games. Head whipping back and forth.

And mud boy in red gets "little girl in purple" all dirty.

In the midst of that, Little Bear wandered out to a field, piece of cheese in hand and discovered dandelions.

And I stopped and breathed in the moment.

And when Hottie Husband asked me that night what I did today?

I indulged myself and laid it all out.

Scaring The Mom of The Little Girl In Purple

2011-06-10T16:39:00.000-07:00

We have a sign up at our home that my sweet sister bought for me. It reads, "We now interrupt this family for baseball season." And it's true for her family too. Perhaps it's not so much interrupted, but enhanced. As shown in today photos.

Little Bear is dragged to oh... so... many baseball games. And he LOVES it. I once drove away from the fields and didn't drop him off with his brothers and he yelled, "baseball, baseball, baseball" all the way home.

Yesterday, both Mister Luke and Jackie Boy had games at the same time. So, I stood between fields with my neck whipping back and forth, then chasing Little Bear, then trying to find Toots, then putting Little Bear in a time out for throwing gravel, then giving snack money to Toots, then losing two children and finding them again.

So, when our neighbor sauntered over and pointed out that Little Bear had found a mud puddle and asked if I was cool with it, I looked at his happy jumping feet and said confidently, "yes." I was exhausted. Mud was doable.

It wasn't freezing cold and those socks and sandles (he requested shocks and shandles together so I anticipate he'll be attending Berkeley someday) could be removed after the games. But, parents started to look uncomfortable. What kind of mother would let her little boy jump in a mud puddle. And notice that cute little girl in the purple behind him?

Well, Little Bear must have looked dangerous with that mud puddle, because some shoes showed up to tell "Little Girl in the Purple" to stay away from "Splashing Boy in the Red."

But, "Little Girl in the Purple" must have liked "Splashing Boy in the Red" because she had to be escorted away from this little mud baby!

He's the fourth. That's all I can say. Mister Luke barely ever touched the ground. But, when times are desperate, mud is good. Really good.

I got to watch two exciting games, one ending in two extra innings and loss and one ending in a win.

I'm going to be back blogging here.

And I've created a Transparent Mama Facebook Page so you can get updates there when I write.

Please become a fan!

Hold My Hand

2011-06-03T13:18:00.000-07:00

For years, I've been terrified to fly. Well, more like since I've had kids and saw footage of a plane go down in the ocean off the coast of Oxnard, California, I've been terrified to fly. At one point, I could barely make it through a flight without crying. Silly fear!

This has resulted in a ritual. On take off, I reach over and grab Hottie Husband's hand. I hold on tight and pray that somehow this giant man made thing of plastic and metal and gadgets and engine parts will do the impossible and stay in the air. And it always does.

This past week, we flew out to California for a short vacation to visit family. When we lifted off in Missoula, I sat next to Little Bear as he said- Airpane go up,up, up in da sky!

I watched him look out the window in wonder. I watched as he smiled at the lift off. I talked to him about the wings and the clouds and the shoosh, shoosh of the airplane. I didn't think of crashing, or dying, or let fear stomp on the moment. And I didn't reach for Hottie Husband's hand. I didn't even think about it until later.

Instead, I lived in that moment without fear or worry or stress. I don't know why it happened so organically. Maybe because of the lessons of late; that everything can change in an instant no matter where you are. So, why waste time on fear? Why let it steal the joy when the fear is ungrounded?

It got to fly with my two year old son and laugh as he shouted- WE MADE IT - as the plane touched down. We don't know how he knew to say that and the people around us giggled when they heard it.

But, it was my sentiment exactly and perhaps why I was able to let go of the fear. Because through everything that has been thrown at us over the years, we always seem to be able to come out the other end saying, "We made it."

Wholeness

2011-05-24T13:10:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning with gratefulness that everyone was under the roof with me. I imagined each little boy in his bed, snuggled in the early morning light. Soft breath. Rising chest. Safe. Whole.

But, my heart was heavy. Because while I lay wrapped in gratefulness, others wandered ravaged streets, scraped through rubble and shattered glass, searched for loved ones in Joplin.

And my heart was heavy because others close to me are wrestling with a newly discovered threat to their life and family as they know it.

My heart was heavy because I know another whose son is not whole. Who was injured traumatically this weekend. Hottie Husband called from the fire station to tell me that this seven year old, this friend of my son, had been run over by an industrial lawnmower. That he was being air lifted from the property to Spokane and then Seattle. His life was spared, but the injuries are heartbreaking. This sweet family, who loves the Lord, will forever be changed. Please pray for them... restoration and healing over little Joe and his big brothers and his parents.

So, while I breathed in that moment of gratefulness, I also had this sense that all these moments are fleeting. That change can come in an instant. But, God is there always. There always in our pleasures and pains.

And as C.S. Lewis said, "God whispers in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts in our pains."

A Day on The Beach

2011-05-17T10:47:00.000-07:00

Sorry I have been a neglectful blogger. An infrequent poster.

I will not give up this personal blog because I love it and you.

And my attempt to be balanced as I launch my online magazine and write here on Monday, Wednesdays and Fridays has not been successful.

Alas, today is Tuesday!

Things go by the wayside- housework, writing, calling friends.

And we are fully entrenched in baseball season (at the fields nightly with three teams).

You get it. You are my people.

But, I know this temporary and I'm hoping you'll stick around.

I did take a moment to hang with Little Bear on the beach and take some 2 year old photos of him.

I loved this day.

All he wanted to do was throw rocks.

And yes, he is a lefty!

I wish you could hear the sound of this giggle.

That deep belly laugh of pure unadulterated joy!

I think this one is my favorite though.

Little hands and feet.

Sparkling eyes.

Sweet smile.

And then there is the serious side.

Oh my!

Thank goodness for photographs.

Otherwise I just couldn't stand to let him grow.

And my memory could never retain the beauty.

A Field Trip To Glacier National Park

2011-05-11T16:02:00.000-07:00

I'm a field trip mom. I love to go on field trips with the kids because it lets me into their school world, if only for a day. And as a former teacher, I still love the "school world" and getting to know all the kids.

Today was a glorious day in Northwest Montana.

We have endured a looonnnngggg winter. A LONG winter. A LOOONNNGGG winter.

But, today it was clear with no wind at a balmy 75 degrees.

And we were heading to Glacier National Park.

Note- I did not edit these photos a whit. No cropping, boosting or sharpening. These are straight out of my iPhone.

Our lovely park rangers taught the kids about the importance of fire in forestry.

We hiked out to Rocky Point on Lake McDonald.

And then over to the burn area from the Robert Fire of 2003.

We learned how fire clears through the trees, allows in more light, which then produces more growth.

Then we headed back to this spot and sat on the beach for a picnic.

I said to the kids-

Do you have any idea that right now you are sitting in one of the most beautiful places in the world?

But, they don't. Because this is their backyard. It may not be the Getty Museum or a fantastic aquarium.

But, Glacier National Park is an amazing place for a field trip.

The Gift of Mother's Day

2011-05-09T20:34:00.000-07:00

The thing about Mother's Day is that it's impossible for it to be perfect if you think the day will be all about you. Because it never is. Nor should it be.

It may be a day where your family tries to spoil you by making your bed or buying gifts or taking you to brunch. But, they still bicker with one another and leave their things on the floor and forget to close doors. They do not cease being children for a day. Nor should they.

Its preciousness is in the simple tokens of love given and watching their anxious faces as you receive.

This one was made by Toots, my Kindergartener. I look at it and see the green dress, not because I have one, but because he knows it's my favorite color. I laugh at the one that says I like to drive around and look at houses because we've done a lot of that this year. And I smile that he thinks my cookies are good.

This one was made by Mister Luke. I love it because I am a word lover and these are my eldest son's words about me.

I'm glad he thinks I'm cool and hilarious and kind and athletic.

And that he thinks I'm human.

And then a white picket fence with flowers.

A gift made with love and care by Jackie Boy.

How blessed am I.

Their faces as they gave were the real gift though.

The look to see my reaction, my receiving of their gift.

My acceptance of their appreciation.

How blessed am I.

Twice Lost

2011-05-06T13:53:00.000-07:00

What happens when you lose your tooth after losing your tooth...

The Cool Factor

2011-05-04T21:54:00.000-07:00

Someone thinks he's The Terminator.

Imagine "Dynamite" blasting in the background as he struts.

All this coolness has been brought on by Toots, who for some reason, at age 6, is into all things considered "cool." I'm trying to convince him that kindness and generosity are always cool, but for some reason he thinks it has something to do with sunglasses and wearing your hat backwards or sideways.

And blaring "Dynamite" and dancing!

Little Bear is his protege who loves the dancing best,

and perhaps the sunglasses second best.

The News of a Death...

2011-05-02T08:28:00.000-07:00

The news of a death always brings sadness. So, how strange when it brings jubilation. The news last night Osama Bin Laden's demise resulted in streets flooding with celebration, posts of excitement on Facebook, and recollections of the terror he led up our nation.

For me, there was a sense of completion. Probably, much like how crime victims feel when their assailant is brought to justice. I clearly recall the moment I woke to the Today Show showing footage of two buildings falling, planes crashing into buildings and fields, hero's saying, "Let's roll." I recall holding Jackie Boy in my lap, just seven months old, and Mister Luke toddling around as I sat stunned in front of a screen. Our world had changed forever. This was a new kind of warfare; new to everyone in the world. There was no more semblance of fighting fair.

Those babies are now tall, shoulders broadening daily, and can discuss the news with me. Still, no matter how much explaining I do, they don't remember a world without a threat of terrorism. They don't know a world before the Sleeping Giant awoke to attack. They don't remember a world when it was incomprehensible that someone would use a passenger plane as a weapon against innocents.

Though probably more symbolic than preventative at this point, it feels like justice. Nearly ten years later... justice.

Not So Sure About the Term Tween

2011-04-27T19:49:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about the term Tween lately. It defines the ages between 9 and 12; that time period between being a child and a teenager.

It's a weird age to be when you don't really feel like a kid anymore, but you're not yet a teen. It is sort of like being twenty—when you are no longer a teenager, but don't feel like an adult either.

I personally truly disliked middle school. I didn't get it why all the girls were so dramatic about everything and why everyone suddenly separated into groups. I wanted to be friends with everyone. So, I totally understand why this term caught on and describes accurately that "in between" stage.

But, I just wonder if it is doing it's own little damage. The fashion and toy industry is specifically marketing aggressively to the "tweens." The problem is that they are not always marketing things appropriate for kids in that age group. For example, Abercrombie and Fitch recently came up with a line of padded, push up bikini tops for tween girls. Actually, they were made for girls as young as seven. That makes me a little sick to my stomach. Fortunately, they came under heavy criticism and pulled the line, now making it only for girls 12 and older. Still too young, right? What must girls think about themselves at this age if the marketing machine is telling them this is what they need?

I wonder if calling kids tweens is making those 9 to 12 year olds feel even more like they can't just be kids. Maybe it's making them grow up just a little bit faster. And maybe it is giving the marketing machine a feeling that they are not actually marketing to kids. Personally, I'm not going to use the term anymore.

I think the terms kid or child work just fine!

Our Easter Pics

2011-04-25T13:34:00.000-07:00

This was our first official Easter in Montana.

Last year, we'd driven to California, flown to Hawaii and flown back to spend Easter in California.

So, we went about creating some new traditions this year.

We now call this boy The Speedy Dipper. Because in the eggs would go- plop, crack, plop, crack.

And then out he would grab them.

It was hilarious and destructive all at the same time.

We woke up and did our usual hunt. It took Little Bear a minute to figure out what we were doing and then he was all into it, saying EGGS, EGGS, EGGS.

Everyone dressed up for a photo before we were off to church and then onto a nice brunch.

The afternoon was spent with friends grilling and playing.

Football, trampoline, egg hunt, baseball, hula hoop, skating.

The sun was shining and warm all day long!

It was beautiful and needed

I was delighted that it actually felt like spring with a hint of summer.

I hope your Easter was lovely.

Under His Covering

2011-04-23T12:37:00.000-07:00

This week our church hosted a Seder dinner, defined as a Jewish ritual service and ceremonial dinner for the first night or first two nights of Passover. Tables were set with real plates, silver and large wine glasses. The boys each wore a paper kip pah on their heads. We broke unleavened bread and passed it around, tasting bitter herbs and then bitter herbs mixed with sweets. We dipped parsley in salt water and chewed. Each food was symbolic of Israel's history.

A mother and father figurehead were at each table, playing the traditional roles. The father walked around the table and poured fresh water over our hands to wash. Then, broke and passed the unleavened bread. The Mother lit the candles, recited scripture and refilled the wine (juice) carafe when needed.

Prayers were said in Hebrew and because the man leading the Seder is the funniest man in our church, many jokes were told. A history of Israel was recited as part of the tradition. My children were starving and the only food on the table besides the masa (which they couldn't touch yet) was celery and carrots. They have never eaten so many vegetables in their life.

One of my favorite parts was when the children went forward to stand under a the prayer robe held up by the fathers. They held it over them symbolically covering them in prayer as a prayer was said.

It was a long dinner, but the boys enjoyed the ceremony, the ritual, the symbolism and finding some hidden masa bread wrapped in a napkin for a golden coin. They learned to remember what was done for them; how the lamb's blood placed on the doors saved the Israelites.

Good Friday was yesterday, the day we remember that the perfect lamb was slain so we could be passed over too. And today as I drove in the car with Toots, he asked- What if Jesus had never come? I asked him what he thought and his response was - There would be no churches and stuff.

I loved this answer because I always go to the spiritual ramifications with questions like that. But, what about the physical world? How different would the world, the US, this little town be if Jesus had never come.

Just off the bat, I pictures all those churches vanished, all the crosses used in jewelry and logos gone, no Christmas, no Easter, no ministries building homes or delivering shoe boxes full of gifts to the poor, no Christian camps.

And I think then how grateful I am that he did come. That he put on flesh to dwell with us. That whatever happens in this life, He has me covered.

Have a blessed day tomorrow.

Currant Scones and Going to The Sun Eggs

2011-04-20T06:34:00.000-07:00

A local lodge here in Whitefish recently launched a cookbook appropriately named Good Montana Morning. I had the pleasure of meeting the author Betsy Cox and observing a cooking demonstration. You don't want to miss the recipes she shared with my online magazine Whitefish Life.

Head on over here to see all the cooking photos and get these incredibly easy and impressive recipes.

Facebook for Kids?

2011-04-18T07:58:00.000-07:00

My 11 year old just started asking me a question- Can I get a Facebook?

And my gut reaction is "no." This is simply because I know some of the things our relatives post and they are not necessarily bad, but more like inappropriate for his age. I told him this and his response- You can tell me who I can be friends with.

His other argument- All my friends have one. This is not true, of course. Not ALL of his friends have a FB account, but some do. And I have to admit, I think it would be fun for him. I love social networking sites. I am a blogger, I am on FB personally and in business, I tweet. I am most certainly influencing his desire to be on FB.

But, my gut says no. AND apparently so do the rules on Facebook. I wasn't certain of the age limit until I checked today. Kids must be 13 to have an account. This means that his friends are on Facebook with false ages entered. Seriously, I love this. It gives me an out and makes me not the bad guy. Now I can say- It is against the rules, would involve lying and giving false information. What do you think the RIGHT thing to do is?

What are your thoughts about kids on Facebook?

The Biggest Little Fan!

2011-04-14T18:42:00.000-07:00

To Grandma Betty and Uncle Randy-

Thank you for my birthday present.

Mom actually let me wear it.

But I had to say, "Go Bruins!"

Boot Packing It!

2011-04-13T13:59:00.000-07:00

If you're looking at the title of this post and saying- What???
THEN YOU'RE WITH ME!

This past weekend was the closing of the ski mountain for the season. I must confess that I am DONE with skiing and totally ready for summer. It has been one long winter. I have been a trooper though and trekked up to the mountain with my ever enthusiastic boy clan every weekend with ne'er a grumble. That is actually a lie. I have done some grumbling, but only when the weather is really bad.

So, on our final Saturday it was sunny and lovely and I was not doing any grumbling at all. I was feeling proud of myself that I've really pushed myself with some extra pushing from HH and ventured down really challenging terrain this season. I was feeling comfortable.

Then HH says- Boys, you want to boot pack it up stumptown?
I look around at nodding heads and realize they are speaking a language I don't understand.
I soon find out this means taking your skis off and carrying them up a mountain so you can ski in powder.

Now, I don't even like to carry my own skis from the parking lot to the lift. No, I do not. And HH knows this because he has been carrying them for me since I was seventeen. This little fact seems to have totally slipped his mind.

I do realize I could say no at this point. But, I wonder what it says about me if I choose not participate when my children are up for it. I hoist my skis on my shoulder and follow the clan up the hill in super uncomfortable ski boots. HH does reach down and loosen them for me because he really does want me to like this new boot packing thing.

I say- You know that even though we moved to Montana, you still married a California girl.

HH- Think of it as an adventure!

Then I do. I walk and try not to grumble. I see the boot prints in the path before us and realize how many people have made this hike. I think about HH and I'm amazed how Montana suits him so perfectly—like it was in his blood before he arrived here. The ruggedness, the exploration, the terrain. He just knows what to do.

We reach the top and I look out toward Canada and realize I've enjoyed the hike. This place, this Montana, is stretching me. Causing me to grow and be brave in ways I never anticipated. We ski down and it is the best run, best snow of the season.

Then we do something civilized. We sit on a ski run in the sunshine with our friends and watch people who are dressed up as—white trash lady gaga, a bee, a man totally in green, madonna, a kfc bucket of chicken, superheroes— ski down the hill and across a pond. Pond-skimming. The grand finale event of the season.

Some crash and we laugh and cheer. Some make it across and we laugh and cheer.

The Frosting

2011-04-11T16:51:00.000-07:00

Sometimes...

it's just your day

to take both beaters

covered in your birthday frosting

and have them all to

yourself!

Last Day of One!

2011-04-07T19:28:00.000-07:00

This is the last morning Little Bear woke up as a one year old.

Tomorrow he'll be two.

And I can barely stand it.

I almost cried all day today thinking it was the end of babyhood forever.

Until... like grandchildren.

Granddaughters I should say.

But, then my sister convinced me that she doesn't consider babyhood to be over until age 3.

And I felt better. A little.

I think time just goes too fast and I feel like I can't hold on tight enough to the moments.

No matter how many pictures I take.

In other news, we are having a tooth hanging by a thread,

but can't seem to get it come out problem.

And there is also a bad haircut situation we are trying to remedy.

But, more about that later.

Norm's News Candy Store

2011-04-04T20:48:00.000-07:00

Doesn't Toots look just like a kid in a candy store should?

Especially since he also has a huckleberry shake topped with blue (his favorite color) whipped cream.

This is one of our favorite places to go to lunch.

Norm's News has been in Kalispell, Montana for 70 years.

It is in the old Opera House Square built in 1896. I love knowing the history of a place.

The walls are lined with candy, candy and more candy.

Do you remember these?

Honestly, I used to love them.

But, there was no way our kids were getting some.

Every magazine you could ever want is available- that's why it's called Norm's News!

And where else can you buy a ten dollar giant gummy bear?

We did not buy one.

I just love all the colors!

The kids each got to fill a bag with two dollars worth of candy.

And we were finally on our way.

Cheeseburgers, Clam Chowder, Huckleberry Shakes and Candy.

IT was all good.

Fort Spring Break

2011-04-02T21:18:00.000-07:00

What do boys do when it's Spring Break

and it's raining

and no road trips are on the horizon

and mother has banned all tv and video games and computer games?

They build a fort.

A large bedroom fort.

With rooms that they name- Rowley, Relaxation, Shredder, and other hysterical names I can't recall right now.

And their mother smiles, thinking that maybe everything involving a screen should be banned for life, knowing that will never happen.

But still.

A whole room fort.

That is pretty cool.

And they tell me that sleeping in their fort is even cooler.

Easy and Fun Family Dinner Party

2011-03-30T09:14:00.000-07:00

A few night ago, we had two of our favorite families over for dinner.

We are all on Spring Break and having a staycation together, taking turns planning dinners.

Between us, it makes 10 kids, 6 adults and a lot of fun.

We had a "bring your own topping pizza making party."

I just bought two Boboli Pizza Crusts for each family. They each came with a packet of pizza sauce and I grated some mozzarella cheese.

Each family brought their own toppings.

And then we let the kids take over.

See that cute little one next to Little Bear.

This was her mommy's idea.

We popped them in the oven at 450 for 10 minutes.

And they came out like this.

We served the pizza with a salad.

Easy prep.

Fun for the kids.

Easy clean up.

Delicious.

Take A Minute and Protect Your Kids

2011-03-28T13:59:00.000-07:00

There have been a lot of articles and news programs talking about protecting kids online. For years, it's been a big topic. But, when I ask friends if they've set restrictions on their computer search engines, a lot times the answer is, "Not yet."

I know two mothers who have sadly discovered that their young (I'm talking 7-11 year old) boys have innocently typed the words, "girl" or "hot girls" into the search engine and then been introduced to pornography. I am talking the worst kind too. Not just photographs, but video too. It just makes me sad to think of what is robbed in those short moments.

These children have this forever as their first experience and knowledge of sex. And those images are seared on their brains. Both children in this instance were addicted to the images instantly and instead of telling their parents, continued to seek time to look at the images in secret. It is highly addictive for boys.

Girls need to be protected too. Just think of what the search for the word "Barbie" could bring up. I once searched the word "Prego" for a recipe and suddenly images of you know what were popping up on my screen. This was years ago, before kids, but what if it wasn't? What if one of them had been standing next to me, watching the screen?

If you have children, or if children even enter your home, take a few minutes and set restrictions on your search engine. It can usually be found in preferences. For more information, see this website dedicated to protecting kids online- ProtectKids.com.

If you don't, it's like leaving a door open in your home to worst of what the world has to offer.

Okay, I will now step down off of my soapbox!

Shameless Promotion

2011-03-27T17:04:00.000-07:00

The past few days I have been involved in shameless promotion. Online shameless promotion. Begging for people to "like" and become a "fan"of my Whitefish Life (my online magazine) Facebook page. You see, you need 25 fans to become a real page and get your own url. You also need this to be able to comment on other people's pages.

And guess what? I asked for 25 and at this moment, I've got 73. People are amazing! They blessed my socks right off. If you want to be part of succumbing to my shameless promotion, you can like it right here too- Whitefish Life on Facebook. :) Love you.

Even though I have been blogging for a couple of years, I do it mostly for personal reasons- to connect with other moms, create a diary/scrapbook for my family, share my thoughts, make sure grandparents get to see pictures. So, promotion hasn't been a big part of it. Whitefish Life is a business (although my whole heart is just to help people and tell their story which is super fun for me) and so I am treating it as such.

That means promotion. But, goodness sakes, social media makes it so fun and easy. I didn't realize it, but creating a page for your business is HUGE. You can like and comment on other local business pages and they in turn like you and spread the word. Crazy!

Forgive me while I go out and shamelessly promote myself some more, all the while knowing who is doing the blessing.

Homemade Teriyaki Sauce

2011-03-24T08:03:00.000-07:00

Homemade is always better when it comes to dressings and sauces.

It just is.

Well, maybe it's just better when it comes to food in general, but today I'm talking Teriyaki Sauce.

And this one is good.

Start with a cup of water poured into a small sauce pan.

Add 1/4 cup of soy sauce, 1/2 a teaspoon of ground ginger

and 1/4 of a teaspoon of garlic powder.

Add five or six tablespoons of packed brown sugar

2 tablespoons of honey

Stir those ingredients together and begin heating on medium.

Mix 2 tablespoons of cornstarch with a 1/4 cup of COLD water. Pour into saucepan.
This will thicken the sauce.

Heat until desired thickness. You can add water if it gets too thick.

Mix with sauteed chicken and stir fry veggies.
(I keep a bag of frozen stir fry veggies in the freezer so I can make a quick meal)
Put your chicken, veggies, and homemade teriyaki sauce mixture over steamed rice and
you have a yummy meal.

Homemade Teriyaki Sauce

1/4 cup soy sauce

1 cup of water

1/4 teaspoon garlic powder

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger (you can use less if the ginger is too strong for your tastes)

2 tablespoons honey

5-6 tablespoons packed brown sugar (depending on how sweet you like it)

2 tablespoons cornstarch

1/4 cup cold water

Mix all ingredients (excluding cornstarch and 1/4 c. cold water) in a saucepan. Begin heating on medium. Mix cornstarch with cold water and add to saucepan. Heat until desired thickness.

There Is A Monster In My House

2011-03-22T15:22:00.000-07:00

There is a monster in my house.

He's red and has big eyes.

It looks like he may need a haircut, but I'm scared to do it.

He has two heads.

And raids my refrigerator.

But I think I'll keep him.

Because he sure is cute.

Managing A Three Year Old Tornado

2011-03-21T10:40:00.000-07:00

There was a time when I was in the thick of it. When I couldn't have written a coherent thought. That was when my two oldest (who are just 16 months apart) were little. I remember keeping my head down, not meeting the eyes of others in public, not wanting to see what I was sure was a judgemental gaze.

I was a new mom, surprised by births of two boys so close together. I often carried one on each hip and got interesting comments about my giant double stroller. A man once stopped me in Costco to explain the benefits of spanking to me. I seriously considered smacking him, especially because on that day, the boys were actually behaving.

I was in survival mode, as mothers of multiples under the age of five are. I was making it through and trying to absorb joy in them where I could. But, then there was the age of three; the age that nearly broke me. It was only one of them, my own particular little tornado, who I will not name.

I share this because I have perspective now. I'm not in the thick of it. And I can't count how many times mothers have come to me in tears about their boys at the age of three, certain their child is a maniac and will someday be calling them from a jail cell.

We shall call him Tornado and I will tell you what he was like just to assure you that your own little tornado will turn out just fine.

Tornado bit everyone in his family- me, his dad, his brother, his cousins, his grandparents. This nearly killed me every time it happened.

Tornado took my sister's small dog and spun him around by the tail. This is when I was certain that his cruelty to animals was a signal that he would become a criminal.

Tornado told our pastor's wife that he was going to cut her. By this point, I think I have a serial killer on my hands.

Tornado refused to look me in the eye. Oh my gosh, what have I created?

Tornado was wild in preschool and I remember comments from other teasing parents that he might blow up the school. I laughed at these comments, agreeing.

These are the harshest examples I could think of. The ones that have the most impact. But, let me now tell you what I was doing during all of this.

I was praying for him. Self control, kindness, self control, compassion, self control, love.

And I was talking to him. Sitting him down for as long as it would take for him to look me in eye, tell me what he had done and how he could make a better choice next time. This would sometimes take over an hour because he could never meet my eyes and say the words.

My mantra- Choose what is good. Do what is right.

And I was crying when I was alone, certain I was a failure. I was yelling at him in moments when I couldn't take it anymore. I was learning that you can't fight a tornado with a tornado. He needed an example of the right way to behave, not a larger version of himself coming back at him. I knew that under that strong will was a leader who needed to know which way to lead.

And here is the hope I offer. This same child has the kindest heart I know. He loves his friends, sees people in need and must help them, has had more than one teacher comment to me that they wish he could be cloned. He has a heart for special needs kids. He is a leader.

So labor over them. Hope for them. Because if you don't fight for them, nobody will. If you don't believe in them, how will anyone else?

If you know a mom who would be encouraged by this, please share it.

When Will The Rock Move?

2011-03-20T14:04:00.000-07:00

This story was shared at my women's Bible study this week. And although you may have heard it before, it was a good reminder to me that even when we don't see what God is doing, he IS doing something.

P.U.S.H.

     A man was sleeping at night in his cabin when suddenly his room filled with light, and the Savior appeared. The Lord told the man he had work for him to do, and showed him a large rock in front of his cabin. The Lord explained that the man was to push against the rock with all his might.

     This the man did, day after day. For many years he toiled from sun up to sun down, his shoulders set squarely against the cold, massive surface of the unmoving rock, pushing with all his might. Each night the man returned to his cabin sore, and worn out, feeling that his whole day had been spent in vain.

     Since the man was showing signs of discouragement, satan decided to enter the picture by placing thoughts into the man's weary mind: "You have been pushing against that rock for a long time, and it hasn't budged. Why kill yourself over this? You are never going to move it." Thus, giving the man the impression that the task was impossible and that he was a failure. These thoughts discouraged and disheartened the man.

     "Why kill myself over this?" he thought. "I'll just put in my time, giving just the minimum effort; and that will be good enough." And that is what he planned to do, until one day he decided to make it a matter of prayer and take his troubled thoughts to the Lord. "Lord," he said, "I have labored long and hard in your service, putting all my strength to do that which you have asked. Yet, after all this time, I have not even budged that rock by half a millimeter. What is wrong? Why am I failing?"

     The Lord responded compassionately, "My friend, when I asked you to serve me and you accepted, I told you that your task was to push against the rock with all your strength, which you have done. Never once did I mention to you that I expected you to move it. Your task was to push. And now you come to me with your strength spent, thinking that you have failed. But is that really so? Look at yourself. Your arms are strong and muscled, your back is sinewy and brown, your hands are callused from constant pressure, and your legs have become massive and hard. Through opposition you have grown much, and your abilities now surpass that which you used to have. Yet you haven't moved the rock. But your calling was to be obedient and to push and to exercise your faith and trust in My wisdom. This you have done. I, my friend, will now move the rock."

     At times, when we hear a word from God, we tend to use our own intellect to decipher what He wants, when actually what God wants is just simple obedience and faith in Him.... By all means, exercise the faith that moves mountains, but know that it is still God who moves the mountains.

P.U.S.H - Pray Until Something Happens!!!!!

Launch Day

2011-03-18T14:10:00.000-07:00

You know that project I was hinting at a week or so ago. Well, it's ready. I am launching an online magazine dedicated to the resort town we live in- Whitefish, Montana.

I am so excited about this project because it combines everything I love to do. Writing. Photography. Promoting people, business and events. Eating at restaurants. Taking pictures and writing about food. Outdoor life. Community. Youth Sports.

So, I am asking pretty, pretty please if you will all go check out Whitefish Life, like it on Facebook and give me some feedback. If it was your town, is there anything else you'd like to see?

I'm off to promote it on Twitter, Facebook and place some posters around town. This is too much fun!

A Green Morning

2011-03-17T09:02:00.000-07:00

This morning I woke to-

Mom, aren't you going to get up and make green pancakes?

This comes from the child who loves the color green. It's my favorite too. And I love Ireland and Irish people. But, this is his day. He's already dressed in a green shirt, black shorts and green baseball socks to his knees. He's his own little Leprechaun.

Oh yes, I think. St. Patrick's Day.

I pull myself out of bed and head to the kitchen. It will be a tight morning. Finding green for Toots, making pancakes, getting lunches ready.

Then, I remember mom left yesterday and I'm a little sad. She would have liked all this green madness.

Another child emerges, not dressed yet and the green boy leans toward him, a fake pinch.

But, the sleepy one thinks he's coming in for the kill and yells- he pinched me-

and then lunges toward him.

He finds a spot, pinching skin hard between his fingers.

The green boy cries, his happy morning melted to painful tears.

Ughhhhh! Why???

My temper rises. I can feel it coming to the surface. Deep breathing holds it in check.

He didn't pinch you. He was playing. It's St. Patrick's Day. Did you not realize that?

He pinched me first.

No, he did not. Apologize and let's take a look at what you did. See the welt? Maybe we'll start Christmas with a spanking. Wouldn't that be fun boy who loves any type of holiday? You've ruined his morning. Apologize.

He looks at me, getting it.

The morning is restored by green pancakes and milk. Batter formed into the first letter of their names.

We are running a little late and as I walk out the door, Destructo Dog sprints out, chasing a deer.

Ughhhh!

She is coaxed in by a shaking bag of cheese.

We make it on time, barely.

But, I still feel the stress in my shoulders, the contained anger.

Little Bear gets breakfast now. He rejects the green pancakes and decides to shampoo his hair with yogurt. Today, I don't find it amusing.

Okay, green day. At least I am getting my hair done today.

That can make any girl feel better.

How To Make A Rainbow Cake

2011-03-14T20:46:00.000-07:00

My mom is a cake maker.

And she likes to include the boys in projects.

So, last night was "Let's Make a Rainbow Cake" night.

And it turned out so whimsical and fun that I had to share it with you.

Start with these ingredients.

Pour 24 ounces of Sprite into two boxes of White Cake Mix.

Beat together.

No eggs, oil or water needed.

Just the Sprite.

Take out six medium size bowls and scoop one cup of the cake batter into each bowl.

If any mixture remains, spread evenly between bowls.

Each of the six bowls will contain a different color.

We used food coloring gel instead of drops so the color was very vibrant.

We used blue, red, green, yellow, purple and orange.

Of course, for purple and orange, we had to mix two colors.

You could also use pink.

Once you have your six colors, grease two round cake pans.

I prefer to line the bottoms with parchment paper, but we didn't have any on hand.

Pour one bowl of color into a pan. Then pour a second color and finally the third.

Do not spread out at all.

Leave it just like this.

Take the other three colors and layer in the same way in the other cake pan.

Bake at 350 degrees for 40 minutes.

The frosting is a large tub of Cool Whip mixed with a large box of vanilla pudding.

Frost the cooled cake and enjoy

your kids faces turn into big happy smiles.

Ingredients

2 Boxes White Cake Mix
24 ounces of Sprite
Food Coloring Gel

Frosting- Large Container Cool Whip & Large Box of Vanilla Pudding

A Moment of Solitude... on a golf course... with snow.

2011-03-13T14:59:00.000-07:00

The other day I took a moment. alone. to try something new.

This was my view

a cross country ski course that doubles as a golf course in the summer.

Cross country skiing has always been one of those things I thought I would dislike... a lot.

But, friends here have been raving about it so I finally decided to try it.

I rented some equipment from this cute little shack.

and decided that I prefer cross country ski boots by leaps and bounds to the confinement of downhill ski boots.

And I set out in rare solitude on a warm blue day.

I went at my own pace and enjoyed stopping to look at the mountains in the distance, the woman in a fluffy pink hat skimming in the snow across the way, the streaming white clouds in the arching vibrant sky.

I listened to my own breath, felt the air cool my lungs, pushed forward using neglected muscles that would be sure to tell me how I'd used them for days to come.

I looked and listened and absorbed.

And I gave thanks for the gifts of my day.

I tried something new and loved a thing I thought I'd dread.

I really loved it.

It was the mixture of outdoor splendor, quiet solitude and physical exertion...

and a thankful heart.

What is something new you are trying?

My Morning Look

2011-03-11T16:50:00.000-08:00

Mom took this photo of me this morning.

So, in rare fashion, I thought I'd share my morning look....

because I love you.

And my whole goal is to make you feel better about yourself.

This is my threw a hat on, no brushing of teeth or hair, sweatpants, no contact lenses, hooray they all made it to school on time look.

I am not one of those mother's who is put together before drop-off. Never have been. Never will.

I'd rather hang out with them in the morning. And sleep a little longer.

That's just how I roll.

That is MY breakfast Little Bear is eating- Honey Bunches of Oats with Nonfat Vanilla Yogurt.

All stirred up. Yum. And he is getting it.

But, I am getting some work done.

sacrifices. you know all about them.

I am surprised at how serious I look.

I am concentrating though—

trying to complete a project I'm working on.

Yes, I said new project.

It will be released, shared... very soon.

What are your mornings like?

How do you roll?

mom. shopping. hooray.

2011-03-09T10:08:00.000-08:00

My mom is flying in today.

To Missoula.

That's about a two hour drive, but I don't mind.

There will be no children in the car.

And the thought of spending two hours alone just sound a little ...

dreamy!

For some reason, whenever mom comes to town, I post about shopping.

Maybe because I miss the girly time and I know I'll get that when she gets here.

I mean, I'm all good with skiing, hiking, boating, biking and trekking to various sporting events, but a girl needs some

well...

girl time.

So, I am thinking about what I can buy in Missoula.

First, I want to find some shades for this new light fixture.

And perhaps some spring color for this muted wardrobe of mine.

I am color challenged.

I like it but I just can't seem to wear it.

Case in point.

Today's outfit.

But, I am going to search for colorful additions to my closet selection.

And I will share with you soon what I find.

What about you?

Are you a color girl or do you tend to stick with greys, tans, blacks and browns like me?

*...Transparent Mama...*