The Do-nevers

Nora says "do never," as in "I do never want to be a swimmer because there are too many sharks," or "Mommy, do never ever do my hair ever again," and, of course, "I do never ever want to kiss a boy." I love it, especially because the do-nevers are almost always things she will inevitably love to do one day.

Turns out I thought I did never want to blog again because I am a quarter of a year behind. But here I now sit, ready to slog through. Pretty sure I've lost all readership, which is fine. But I recently tackled another do-never....family photo books (ok, just 2008 and 2009), and it would have been a much bigger project had I not kept a running account of life in Burtlandia. So without further ado, one of those missing months, in moments...

September

A quick trip to Park City to ride the Alpine Slide (and buy school clothes and complete Andy's six-month Lasik follow-up).

Note the nervous little half-smile. I don't know who was more nervous to have that tiny, wiggly girl high up on a ski lift—the little one who kept saying "This sure is high off the ground, isn't it Poy-da?" the mom who refused to be responsible for said wiggly body, or the daddy who kept both hands on her the entire time.

In the spirit of new kinds of summer fun (Nora had never been on the Alpine Slide), we also rounded up the cousins and Grandma for the kids' first round of putt putt (remember, we live in a small town = no mini golf).

 

September also brought a few trips to our own, closer mountains down south, complete with the requisite KFC  picnic with pals. Unfortunately, what was sweltering and sunny in the valley's daytime quickly turned into a freak summertime 40-degree cold snap that left us all feeling very cold and under-prepared for not just the picnic, but the night star presentation at the state park just down the road. Fortunately, we were with the kind of close friends who don't mind sharing and cuddling in warmth's sake.

Aaaand, it was too cold to take many more pictures than that, but there was a fire, thanks to loads of lighter fluid on wet twigs, and s'mores, etc.

Up next: another trip back to Grandma's house for playtime with cousins and big city shopping, just because we needed a break from the new school year routine that is still a drag to get used to just two years into life with a principal husband and school-aged kiddo. (Actually, I am pretty sure there was a reason I braved the three-hour drive solo with my two are-we-there-yet kids, but I can't remember what it could have been now, months and months later—I'm sure it was a really good reason, though, because I do remember his teacher's concern over dayS of missed school so early on.)

Just look at Porter's face—doesn't that look like fun worth ditching school for? Turns out a group of little people holding wiggly babies do not enjoy having their pictures taken.

Much better.

This one loves babies, but only the real kind. She got a Cabbage Patch doll for Christmas that I was sure would turn that all around—not even a little interested. Fortunately, there are cousins who seem to have much more patient temperaments than our own girlie did, even then.

Meet cousin Millie. She got her mama's eyes, lucky girl.

After settling into the school year as a FIRST GRADER, this boy grew up all at once.

He suddenly schemes new ways to get money (though he never spends any of it).

The rock shop made a whopping 68 cents after I knocked on our pre-teen neighbor's door with a handful of coins and begged him to come buy the rocks my son had just pilfered out of his and all the rest of our neighbors' yards.

He spells.

And he does weird things in public that only make sense to a 61/2-year-old boy.

On our first day of school ice cream date. He swore he was comfortable and just needed to relax after being in school ALL DAY LONG.

And speaking of back to school, we celebrated SUU's homecoming in grand fashion, with football and parades and a late-night dance party at an outdoor summer family-friendly concert. If you're not parenting in a small college town, you should be. Oodles of free fun, loads of safe, clean space to run and explore, and the added benefit of kids who talk about college like it's a given—this really cool place they'll get to one day go.

Throw in a bumper raspberry crop—the only successful plant this year in our little backyard garden, and some Playdoh and painting on days that were just too hot to go outside (now, in February, I'm wondering what we were thinking to waste perfectly good outside time), and that about wraps up September.








One do-never down, four more months to go.

New

2012 was a year of settling. Settling down, settling in, and setting our sights on the life we've got, which is pretty darn great.

Looking back over the past two years: being surprised by a new job for Andy on the tails of finding out we were having twins, starting the school years with our oldest, shifting everything in our lives to accomodate two newborns and then suddenly losing them and scrambling to undo all that had been done, a miscarriage, and the brain-wrecking roller coaster that comes with the battle to get pregnant...always hoping, always planning only to undo those plans. We've been on defense for so long, that I forgot what it felt like to be in control of my life. And though I am generally not a big New Year's girl myself (I'm too busy and lazy to be thoughtful about resolutions and too scattered to be deliberate about following through on them), 2013 felt like a great time to really move forward now that the dust has settled and we are "back to normal."

And so far, I have to say, I think I've been missing out on the magic that is a fresh start—of recognizing the things that need to be changed and doing something about it. I know, I know, I could do that any ol' time I want (which is why I've always thought New Year's a little silly and arbitrary), but in this instance, I think I was just so far removed from what my life had been—before—that I needed a reason to look back and remember that life before, to survey life now, and to move forward into the life I want.

So there are resolutions that, at least in these early days, feel life changing, bringing more order and peace and control to a life that felt anything but.

All this rambling, to wish you a belated but sincere happy new year (timeliness was not one of my resolutions) and to hopefully, in some small measure, excuse myself for the sporadic inconsistencies that have regretfully come to light over the past year and a half. I've always admired those who are graceful under pressure and steadfast in the storm; sadly, I am not one of those people. They are the ice-crusted buffalo, head down, immoveable; I am a chicken with my head cut off, scrambling until I flop.

Hoping to change that, at least a little.

Wise words from C.S. Lewis:
"There are far better things ahead than any we leave behind."