Tickets and Prayers

Carter has been working on a reward program. If he does good things (as in going to bed without a tantrum, getting ready in the morning without me having a tantrum) he gets tickets. The tickets are redeemed for the various desires of a 4 year old. So far he has purchased lots of computer game time, a checkers game, and a trip to Chucky Cheese. (By the way, on the way home from Mr. Cheese, he feel asleep in the car singing, "it's the best day ever" song from Spongebob. )

Last night, as Jeff tucked him in bed, this was the prayer that Jeff and God heard, "Dear Heavenly Father, please bless Grandma and Grandpa. Bless me that I will sleep well and earn tickets so that I can see Monster's vs. Aliens coming to feeaters (otherwise known as "theaters") this Friday. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen"

Yes, he actually said, "Coming to theaters this Friday." So help me.....

The Wheels of Time

I turned 30 last week and I felt old. It wasn't the wrinkles or the softer body, no it was the feeling that life is going too fast. A week used to last forever. A month was an eternity and anything beyond that was unthinkable. Now, I have suddenly reached a point where I have any overwhelming desire for everything to SLOW DOWN. I love this time in my life. I love having my children small and in my arms. I love arguing about who loves who the most. Last night, Carter told me he loved me more than the solar system....what is better than that? Our support network is strong. Gone are the days of having parents that don't know anything. Suddenly, our parents are our friends, mentors and accomplices. They are planted firmly by our sides in raising our children and surviving life's adventures. We have good friends that have seen us through the best and the worst. Jeff and I are at a point in our marriage where we love each other not only for our strengths, but for our weaknesses. We are a formidable team. Together we believe that our dreams are possible. The future is ours to have. We are healthy and strong. Often I am struck by the realization that this life is better than I ever dreamed it could be. I may not be able to slow down time, but I can make the time count.

Jr. High Ski Days

When I was growing up, we had "Jr. High Ski Day". It was the glorious day, a few times of the year, when the entire Jr. High would suit up and head to Beaver Mt. for the day. It didn't matter if you knew how to ski or not,you went.....and you had fun. It was before the days of helmets. Kids rocked the day in jeans. I don't know if I ever saw anyone in goggles. Maybe we had sunglasses? Probably not. The school loaded us on buses, packed us box lunches, and set us free. The entire day, including a short lesson (if you were shamed into taking one), rental skis, and a lift pass was $10. Free of parents and lacking common sense, the day was chaos. By the end of the day, coats were tied around waists and kids were skiing runs we had NO BUSINESS being on, taking sweet jumps when we could barely snowplow. Oh, the glory days.

Over the years Ashley and I have joked that when we ski poorly, it is a "Jr. High ski day". Last weekend, I had a true Jr. High day. Ash and Mike invited me to hike up Garden City Canyon and ski with them. I really wanted to go. However, I had no skins to skin in, so Mike volunteered to carry my skis while I went in on snowshoes. (Seriously, who does that...thanks Mike!!!). Then I realized I had no boots, so I wore my random winter shoes and gators that I got when I was 11. Hello, ghetto. Anyway, I was totally dragging on the hike up. I lost my hat when I sat down to fix my shoe. When it was time to ski, I got freaked out and had a mental breakdown. (Mental breakdown=me lying in the snow with my skis straight in the air). I was a mess. But then, just like those ski days from so long ago, it was totally awesome. I saw a view of the lake I've never seen before. I felt proud that I actually made it to the top. I felt even prouder that I made it to the bottom. I was out of my league and it was miserable and wonderful.

Cows?

Okay, I can't believe I'm writing this. I can't believe I'm considering it. I'm embarrassed for myself. That said, I am in need of help. Help that I never thought I would need or want. Here it is, Jeff wants to buy a cow. Not a cow as a pet or anything weird like that, but a cow to eat.

Go ahead, laugh, call each other and talk about how I've lost my mind, I'm cool with it.

Okay, get serious now. We know nothing about cows. I'm aware this is a bad sign. Never fear though, I know that my peeps (Rich County, I'm counting on you!) can help. There is a place for it to live, food (grass) and water available. We want to eat it in the fall. (Because we are freaking Little House on the Prairie.) We may have found an appox 600lb beef calf for purchase. Here are my questions.

1. What is a good price?
2. Can it just eat grass or does it need corn and grain through the summer?
3. Is it going to die or get sick? Is this a high maintenance undertaking?
4. Does it need a friend? What I mean is, will it moo all day if it is alone or just with the horses?
5. General warnings or advice?
6. Should we just say "f-it" and buy the meat at the store? I'm serious.

Valentines....belated

Nine years ago on Valentine's day, Jeff and I were counting the days until our May wedding. We skied the Beav during the day. I dragged Jeff to pick out dishes that night (ZCMI was going out of business). I have no idea what I gave him, probably nothing, but I remember exactly what he gave me. I received a red rose and a can of Almond Roca. It was true love. I was certain my future was filled with nothing but romance.

Fast forward nine years to this Valentine's Day. I got up full of high hopes. I tried to make the kids make valentines, but they couldn't focus. (I think Carter got burned out writing his name on all the Batman valentines for preschool). I tried to get them to deliver cookies, but they just lounged around. In a last ditch effort, I cut sandwiches into heart shapes. They were cute, really they were. However, I was informed that they were NOT the shape of normal sandwiches and Carter refused to eat them. So, what's a girl to do but.........



Yep, Monster trucks. Our awesome friend Brandon got us tickets and headed out to Monster Trucks on Valentine's Day. We've been a few years now, and I have to admit, my white trash self LOVES the monster trucks. Spike was terrified at first, but then totally loved it. Carter, is an even bigger fan of monster trucks than I am. He packed up his toy monster trucks and drove them on his lap through the whole show. There were tears when Blue Thunder lost his heat and also tears when the trucks took breaks. Other than that, it was a great evening. We purchased the program ($10!!!!) and it has now joined the ranks of the 2007 and 2008 editions as Carter's favorite books.

So, it turns out that Valentines day 9 years later isn't quite what I envisioned for myself. But when it comes right down to, it, nothing makes me happier than seeing my boys (all three of them) light up with excitement. How can you beat watching a four year old shake it to butt rock music? Is there really anything better than a toddler squealing and clapping? In my opinion, if I spent every Valentine's day for the rest of my life with happy, healthy kids, good friends, and a husband that loves me wherever we are, I will consider it a life well spent. Even if it is at the monster trucks.......

(Oh, and, just for the record, Jeff did take me out for a nice dinner the night before...so romance isn't totally dead)

Appropriate Footwear

Sometimes my Bear Lake upbringing becomes more obvious than other times. I spend my winter constantly planning for "what if I get stranded". I wear only long-sleeved shirts/sweaters/fleece in the winter. I have a space blanket, gloves, hats, extra coats and food in my car. If I'm going anywhere far (as in outside of Heber) and there is a spec snow in the western hemisphere I have boots and a flashlight. I don't like the car to ever have less than 1/2 tank of gas. For a long time, I thought this was normal behavior for all people. Jeff informs that it is not and that I am a freak. Okay, whatever.

I also realize that I am the only woman under 45 who wears tights and closed-toe shoes to church on Sunday and I have come to terms with that. I figure the building is hot and most people have traveled less than a few blocks. Therefore, chances of frostbite are minimal. I'm not sure why no one else is cold, but again, whatever. Last night though, I was pushed over the edge.

We had an opportunity to go to Solider Hollow tubing. Since we went at 7:00 and it is February in Utah, I bundled our little family. Even Jeff had on snow pants and gloves and boots. (Those of you who know Jeff know that he rarely has a coat or gloves. He is apparently immune to the cold.) As we got out of the car I consulted the temp. It was 28 degrees and there was approx. 4 inches of new snow/ice. We started up the hill and some idiot from BYU (I know this because of his sweatshirt and loud converstation about his FHE group) runs past me to get in line 2 seconds sooner. I was thinking what a jerk he was when I looked down. You won't believe it, he was wearing CHACOS w/ NO SOCKS, and NO MITTENS/GLOVES!! Are you kidding me? For real?!!!! How does that happen? These are the questions I need answered:

#1-Who wears chacos as their shoes during a blizzard?
#2-Who decides that they are an appropriate choice to wear through Provo Canyon?
#3-At what point do you say to yourself, "I have no socks, regular shoes, boots or gloves, I should go tubing!"
#4-What was the girl thinking that was hanging out with him?

Is it bad that every time he slipped or fell I smiled?

Skier

It was a big day today, Carter "graduated" ski school. He has been taking lessons with his fearless instructor Steve (or as Carter would call him, "Dave....I mean Steve") twice a week for the last month. I am amazed at his progress. On the first day he was super clingy and terrified. The second week, he would go so slow that it took them forever to go anywhere. Last week, he had a tramatic event involving the wind blowing on his face. Today, as part of Team X-Wing (him and Steve...guess who made up the name?) he fearlessly made wide pizza turns all the way down the little slalom course they set up. Through it all, he has loved the lessons and espeically the treats that he finds in his boots after class. (Thanks Grandma!) Here are some of my favorite lines from Carter during the lessons:

"Mom, do you know the worst part about lessons? You have to listen to your teacher"
Me: Carter, how do you turn?
Carter: "You just put your arms out and your skis know what to do"
Carter: "Did you know there are snow mites on the big mountain that make you fall sometimes? And you have to stand right back up and keep skiing so they don't bite you." (Don't ask, I don't know about snow mites)
Carter: "Mom, great news. The girl peed her pants two times! Bad for her, good for me. Now I don't ever have to ski with her again"

Here is a cute picture of Gil and Cindy and the skier. Thanks to them for making the lessons possible. I tried to con Carter into having lunch in Snow Park today, in honor of the occasion. However, he vetoed the plan and selected Dairy Keen instead. Good for him, bad for me I guess ;)