Settling In

We are figuring out life here in Utah. I am personally feeling a lot more settled in after making it to Costco today. There are few things in this life that I find more settling than large quantities of staples resting in my fridge and cupboards. Luke is all set for first(!) grade with new shoes, all his supplies, an outfit laundered and laid out as well as a lunch packed and waiting.

Noah is, as I anticipated, having the hardest time with the transition. He melted down today telling Caleb and me that he wanted to move to Utah and not Adelaide's house and that he wanted all his toys out of the boxes. He wanted it to just be "our family". He seems to have made peace with it though, when Adelaide was making the round with bedtime hugs he paused, looked at her and said, "you're part of mine family now."

Family is the best.

Road Tripping

Nearly every summer of my life I traveled on interstate 80 from Illinois to Utah. When I was young and my parents were likewise young and spry we would start out early in the morning and drive straight through. We had a large Ford van and my dad had rigged up a bed in the back which we all took turns sleeping in. I loved watching the flat green stretches of Illinois turn into Iowa's rolling hills. Nebraska was just to be endured without either the trees or the hills. Reaching Wyoming always felt like a celebration as the long flat landscape was broken up by hills and rocky plateaus, setting the stage for Utah's more dramatic mountains. I love my parents for packing five kids in a van and giving us the chance to get to know the country first hand.

It had been seven years since my last trip across I-80, the longest stretch in my life without a road trip across the country. My mom, Nat and I last drove it from Utah to Wisconsin to begin graduate school.

We just completed another journey and added another leg of the journey on driving from Maryland to Chicago. We added Maryland, Pennsylvania, Ohio and Indiana on our list of states.

Here are some images of a wonderful trip across the country at the beginning of another adventure.

Outside the car:

I wish that I had taken more outside pictures, maybe one from every state.

Inside the car:





The kids were incredible road trippers. I was thrilled to be giving them the same experience and understanding for the landscape of our country.

We barely needed to stop because we have learned that all great road trips begin at Trader Joe's and a few other little tricks. The drive went by quickly and without incident. Nat and I had some great conversations and I was reminded again how much I love being with him. Really, it was a great time. I have to admit, though, I am glad not to be turning around and doing it again in a week.

Summer Fun Camp

At the beginning of the summer my friend Mollie and I got together and decided to do summer fun camp. It was one of the most pleasant parts of the summer. We have boys that are similar in age, interests and personalities. It was a good summer to do it; neither one of us had a newborn, we weren't pregnant and sick, and the babies napped at the same time which allowed us to do fun things with the older boys. We picked themed units for each week. I took the boys one afternoon a week and Mollie took them one afternoon. We then planned a field trip for Friday mornings which corresponded to the week's theme. It worked out wonderfully! The boys adored each other, learned some, played a lot and each mom got some time in a quiet house once a week. We also took advantage of some of the local attractions.

This is the slide show that Mollie put together for our end of the year party. Oh how we will all miss summer fun camp!

Crossroads

There seems to be a moment from each transition in my life that remains frozen in time, suspended in my memory as the marker of passing from one phase to the next. Crying and lonely in the futon at my Aunt Sheree's house the night before I moved into the dorms at BYU. Boarding the plane bound for Chile as a missionary. Arriving at the temple, wedding dress in hand the day that I married Nat. The night that Nat and I moved out of our apartment in Provo he drove around to our favorite spots and I cried, mourning the end of the beginning. That was followed by a summer in Samoa and five years in Madison. The end of that phase of life was punctuated by a(nother) hard pregnancy, selling a house, and defending a thesis. We packed a very pregnant momma, two small boys and a portable DVD player into the car and began our Maryland adventure. When I stepped out of the car here in our neighborhood there was another moment to remember. The neighbors were all out playing and Kristin introduced herself as her little almost year old baby toddled down the sidewalk. During these two years we've added another family member, a few more church callings and so many dear friends to our list of assets.

Now we are off to another adventure. The end of this remains to be seen. Nat will finish off this round of interviews and finish up his work here while I move in with Ashley in Utah. As I sit on this uncertain threshold I feel (inexplicably) calm. I packed boxes while commenting to the boys that I didn't know where we would be opening them again and it felt exciting instead of scary. I feel so confident that this is the Lord's plan for our family and that is all I need to know. It took some doing to get here but I'm pleased with the lessons I have learned along the way.

I wanted to remember some of the sweet parts of packing this house up. This time around I had six little hands helping me pack (or, in Isaac's case unpack) boxes. I had wonderful friends who took my children. Then my dear mother and father in-law came in and like miracles, packed up whole rooms at a time, loaded the boxes into the van and drove them over to another friend's house who insisted I store my belongings in her basement rather than rent a storage unit. Then the neighbors and church members showed up and loaded the furniture onto the truck. Then Kristin loaned me laundry detergent so that I could wash some shorts for Noah, who never seems to have shorts. People are so good.

Then there are these sweet, sweet boys. Who, despite the upheaval in their lives, are trying to be good and helpful. What more could I ask for, really?

Moving... is hard work

I just caught this guy trying to sleep on the job.

A Real Live Monet

This little fan of impressionism is still talking about getting to see all those paintings in real life at the National Gallery. He has informed me, though, that he likes sculptures even more than paintings.

Mothering

I found myself wandering around the house deep sighing all day today. I had to clean the house for a showing (don't get me started on the depths of inconsideration shown me by the property manager and showing realtors-- the one today left the front door COMPLETELY AJAR through the whole showing-- excuse me, who is paying for the air conditioning? and did you think about the mosquitos that will be draining my children's blood all night?-- I guess I got myself started ), think more about packing and arranging, then I got distracted and flooded the kitchen. Then the boys made a colossal mess in the basement-- the playroom, with their toys-- as little boys do.

I sighed my way through picking it up while Luke followed me around apologizing for making the mess. Then I saw the ridiculousness of the situation. Kids should be allowed to play with their toys. Clean up should happen cheerfully and together. I mean, c'mon here Carrie-- you had those sweet boys, just enjoy them. Enough with the sighs and the furrowed brow.

I have been thinking a lot lately about the lofty ideals that I started this whole parenting journey with. I have held to a lot of them and on my good days I see that I am getting there and approaching the parent that I want to be. Then there are days like today-- where reality gets in the way of ideal. When I was imagining the perfect mother I would be I wasn't envisioning all the moves, the uncertainty, disappointments and the endless and clumsy transitions from one stage to the next. This has to be the real test, mothering well through tough times.

I always feel, however, that bedtime affords a chance at reconciliation. Isaac has a way of melting into me and staring at me while we read, sing and pray that makes up for all the climbing, messing and toilet flushing he does during the day (he, by the way, told me he had to pee, climbed up onto the potty and peed last night). Noah slowly smiles at me while I tell him how much I love him and then asks for kisses on his buttery smooth cheeks and forehead, grinning as he points out all the places that need just one more kiss. Luke lies still while I read him the final chapter of Indian in the Cupboard and scratch his back. He yawns as we discuss Omri's decision to send Little Bear back to his own time. Then there are the sweet, sincere prayers he offers-- they just make me crumble. I read him a scripture aloud as he falls asleep and he repeats it back until the yawns get too long and his eyes too heavy. This is what it is all about. Those boys are such a precious gift and their childhood is just too fleeting for me to be sighing my way through it. Here's to more smiles and less sighing tomorrow.

Monday Morning

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The boys are somewhere between their pajamas and naked. Noah is using his mad climbing skillz to fish money out of the spare change box for Luke. Luke is calculating how many Lego sets he will be able to buy with the money he's "found" around the house. Isaac is observing Noah's toes on the knobs technique and taking mental notes. I am wet haired and wondering whether I should focus on the kids or on getting our life in order. Happy Monday!