Hershey's Track and Field Event

There's an annual track and field event put on nationwide by Hershey. It starts locally and as you do well, I think placing 1st and 2nd, maybe 3rd even, I don't know, you move on to the next meet. Line had so much fun this year participating in a relay with two of her cousins and one of her cousin's friends thanks to her Uncle Rex getting her involved and for taking her to and from the first two meets when I had sick kiddos. The girls were so dang cute! They had their first meet in Provo, then moved on to the next meet I think south somewhere...and then they moved on to their final meet in Kamas, Utah which is close to Heber and Park City. We have the best family, and I love that we can spend time together that ends with us always wanting to get back together soon. I know that this isn't always the case with families, and feel so blessed to be a member of a family that works hard at staying unified and unselfish.

We had a lot of time to burn since the girls needed to be there early to register/sign in and yet their race was one of the last events of the meet. After a bit of exploring we discovered some sand volleyball courts behind the Rec Center that the track was located beside. I don't know exactly what I was thinking, since bubble solution and sand are some of my most irritating textures that I try to avoid, and yet we spent a good amount of time playing in both. The kids had fun, and I tried to not cringe every time I saw sticky fingers covered in bubble solution then become covered in sand. Most didn't seem to mind it. I had this huge wand that I would just wave around and tons of bubbles would result. The kids dubbed themselves 'bubble warriors', and when you take into consideration that in order to be a warrior meant you were required to run around with a stick popping all the bubbles, it was quite the miracle that no one ended up getting poked in any way. Ane quickly became irritated at the amount of yucky stuff that somehow kept ending up in her mouth, and decided that it was more fun stealing everyone's shoes.





I spotted Uncle Matt with a stop watch around his neck, which I thought was a cute touch. I asked Katie what it was for, and she said that she'd decided it was best not to ask.

I love watching these uncles with the girls. Matt helped them stretch and get ready to run. The girls did a couple of trial runs passing the baton, and before they knew it their event was being called. It was roasting hot so we only sat on the bleachers during the girls actual run. Some were creative in their attempts to find shade there...









These last pictures are of the scenery on the drive home, I believe. All the pictures are from Ginny's camera. Thank heavens she brings her camera along. For me, just getting to, enduring, and coming home from anything these days is about all I'm capable of, and some days not even that. Being on the ball enough to capture the memories has landed in her court, and she's saved me multiple times by always having her camera handy.

It really was a stunning ride home. It turned out to be the same road that we'd traveled on a couple of summers ago when we took a Maile trip to Rockport State Park for our first camping reunion. Naki had picked the site after much research and deliberation, and so it was sweet to be driving on that same road that the last time we'd been on had been together as a whole family. For me it was as if somehow, just by traveling on that particular road coming home, that he'd been a part of the days events despite his absence.

I Miss My Optimist

Can someone please give me tips, tricks, tools, anything, to help me quiet the pessimist in my head that never ever stops giving me it's two cents? I've battled that my entire life, feeling naturally pessimistic, and since Naki's death and consequently losing my eternal optimist, it's ridiculous the way I have to fight against that part of myself. This week I'm not doing such a hot job at filtering through all the negative to try and find just a bit of positive. Usually I'm able to see my thoughts for what they are...a mortal weakness that only impairs my one-step-forward-two-steps-back progress towards what used to be my eternal goals. I was able to look past my here-and-now focus and balance the negative with the positive thoughts of life after this one. I am surprised to see how the issues that I'm struggling with spiritually are making it impossible to do that at all. When I don't have that strong confidence and trust in God nothing seems worthwhile anymore. I wish that I could figure out all the answers that I'm seeking already, so that I can get balanced again. The silly thing of it all is that I've already gone through these thoughts before. But just like all of the other emotions that I spiral through with grief, these keep coming back around, reminding me that I am still unsatisfied with the results from the last time around. I would love to hear if anyone else has ever found themselves in my shoes, and how you were able to get past it.

The True Purpose of Summer

As far as we're concerned, summer is only summer so that we can spend our days in the water, rain or shine. Literally. We've actually been swimming in the rain before. Of course for Mom, the best swimming days are the sunny ones, since I love trying to get as brown as all these beautiful Poly babies I'm surrounded by. We added a couple of new toys to our swimming collection, and it looks like the girls are loving all of them.

Mellow

These pictures are proof that things actually do slow down around here. Peaceful moments do exist. The times when all are freshly srubbed, hair is flowing freely down their graceful backs, and they all lay together with such peace and harmony rejuvinate me and make me feel the possibilities for our family. They are some of my most favorite times...those when we're all together without the need for conversation.


Then there are times like this...an illusion of sorts. I assume all are peacefully sleeping in their beds, tucked away all safe and sweet. Imagine the shock to find this awaiting my discovery.


I'm sure asking her to stay put so a photo could be taken does little to persuade her of my desire to have her NOT do it again some future night. But in this I've mellowed. I recognize it won't be long and I'll no longer have a little one around with the desire to line up her and her sister's shoes all mismatched when she should have been sleeping. I looked up the definition of 'mellowed' just for the heck of it, and I like how the words make me feel about myself. It said "made gentle and compassionate by age or maturity; softened". I like that. I really like it.

I have recently been working in my yard, trying to add landscaping where there is none, and have found that it has been such great therapy for me. I want to devote an entire post to my new-found love of landscaping/yard work, but just wanted to mention it as the main reason I haven't been writing in here. I have many things to write about, emotional and just simply all the events that have happened over the last couple of weeks. I'm reading a book called "These Is My Words", a fictional adventure of Sarah Prine's life and struggles in the Arizona Territories in the late nineteenth century inspired by the author's own family memoirs. It's written in her voice as you read her journal entries over the span of about 20 years.

I was engrossed in this book, which was a surprise for me. I have a love affair with reading...you just cannot tear me away from it. That is, before Naki died. Since then I hate it. Probably I hate it for the same reasons that I hate certain music and television/movies. The kinds that I love the most all have the same result in that they pull up all the feelings of love that I have for Naki, which in turn makes me miserable since he's not here for me to express that love to him. If I read a sweet love story, after finishing it I would love to cuddle with him, knowing that I have my very own love story right beside me. If I read a scary murder plot, I would cuddle close to him, knowing I would always be protected by him. If I read a funny adventure, I would cuddle close to him, knowing that I was living my very own funny adventure with him. See a pattern? No matter what I read, it somehow strengthened the connection that I have with him. He could always tell when I'd found a good book...it was pretty obvious when he'd come home from work and I was still in my pajamas and the kids were craving some one on one time. I didn't neglect them! But I would make sure they were content and safe so I could keep on reading whatever had me glued to it.

I've really missed reading. Not that I haven't been reading at all, but I am so tired of reading my scriptures, reading gospel study books, or just reading books written about gospel topics, that I could scream. I know that all that I'm learning is what I need. The knowledge I acquire about all the gospel things I'm reading are essential, eternal truths that will completely effect my future. But it's getting old, reading about that stuff all the time. It isn't relaxing the way my other reading material was, and doesn't allow the part of my brain that is "on" all day to turn off for just a bit. Probably it wouldn't get old if I had some peace on some very important gospel principles, but I definitely do not have peace. And until I do, a lot of what I read just tends to leave me feeling bereft, frustrated, confused, angered, and alone. I will be the first to admit that having gone through this experience I know more certainly than I ever have before how much I love and need the Savior in my life. His Sacrifice astounds and overwhelms me. I find myself continually humbled when I feel my Spirit strengthened by It. Many of my struggles with my faith these days have nothing to do with Him, and more to do with the nature of God. Having such struggles brings an accompanying sense of guilt, but I'm working on it and will continue to work on it until I find the peace I'm searching for.

But last week I decided that I wanted to read something floofy no matter the consequence it would bring me emotionally. BIG MISTAKE. Let's just say that it didn't go so well. I loved reading it! And I loved the story line, and as usual just could not put it down. I hadn't realized how much I loved telling Naki about what I'd read, and if not needing to tell him what I read, then getting that reassurance that I, too, had it good just like the characters I'd read about. I decided it was time to try another tactic. This week I picked up the book I mentioned before, having forgotton I'd bought it some time ago. I thought that maybe this one would be better for me emotionally, since I knew the ending ended similar to my current ending...losing your husband. I'm not sure how I'll feel when the entire story is over, but so far I've loved reading about how this amazing woman endures the sorrows she's faced with...they seem way worse than mine when compared. She reminds me of myself in some ways. She wrote, "It seems as if I can only think if I write my journal, it just connects the part of my head that is busy doing things with the part that is busy thinking about everything else." It seemed to me the perfect way to describe why I like to write. She also later wrote, "I feel like I have turned into another person, like someone else walks around in my shoes, and I don't know who I was before, nor who I am now." I couldn't have said it better to describe myself these days.

I have so very many thoughts running marathons in my mind. Just when I think they've crossed the finish line, they start another marathon and stay with me until once again, I feel like that running thought has finally finished it's race. Imagine my surprise, and quite frankly, annoyance, when it starts yet another marathon all on it's own. Try as I might I can't convince my heart, mind, and spirit to finish with certain trains of thought. This cyclical grief that I experience is driving me batty. Ask my sister Ginny. I know she walks on egg shells around me because she never knows which Abby she's gonna get from day to day, or truthfully minute to minute. I feel like what I want least is to be surrounded by anyone. Being alone sounds so heavenly. I imagine that being alone would allow me to emote any feeling, thought, or emotion freely without fear of the consequences or effects it would have on those around me. Then I feel that what I want most is to be surrounded by everyone. It comforts me to know that people are able to somehow love me despite my continual depressing aura. I know it exudes from me despite my best efforts to push through it. It saddens me to feel that because I can no longer hide it as well as I once did that it will end up pushing away those that I actually need the most. I feel like Scrooge constantly. Although it may seem to an outsider that I choose to feel like Scrooge, you should know that I fight against it every single day. I hate the way all this feels, and wish that these ucky feelings would just go away already. I see all this goodness, love, and pure charity in the countenances of all these amazing and beautiful people that continue to lift me, love me, and support me, despite all my depressing faces and thoughts and despite the amount of time that has passed...almost 9 months. Sarah Prine wrote, "I wish the Lord would just knock me over with kindness and goodness and simple purity, because I don't seem to be getting the knack of it on my own." Amen, Sarah.

One thing I've learned for sure is that losing Naki is my "something" in life that only I have to figure out how to deal with, and that everyone has a "something". Some may already know what their's is, or they might not even know what it is yet to come. I am able to recognize that I have not been singled out to endure something hard. Even knowing that with complete certainty, when I read Sarah's words they surprised me by making me cry, ringing true within myself without having known that I felt that way.

She wrote, "Sometimes I feel like a tree on a hill, at the place where all the wind blows and the hail hits the hardest. All the people I love are down the side aways, sheltered under a great rock, and I am out of the fold, standing alone in the sun and the snow. I feel like I am not part of the rest somehow, although they welcome me and are kind. I see my family as they sit together and it is like they have a certain way between them that is beyond me. I wonder if other folks ever feel included yet alone."


How is possible that pictures like this even exist? I look at it and am in awe at my own ability to hide my sorrow. I don't look sad. And when I think about that moment the picture was taken I was grateful to be surrounded with my loved ones, and yet so simultaneously sorrowful. I felt "included, yet alone". I just want to not feel so depressed, and soon. I guess I've never been all that patient of an individual.

The Surprise of the Day...in a good way

God knows me...very well. He must remember very clearly the summer of 2008 when I was around 8 months pregnant, trying desperately to teach Lose how to ride her bike. It was, ummm, one of my least lovely moments. She was an excellent balancer, but truly struggled to steer her bike. It seemed to steer her. Either it or she had a magnetic pull to any immovable object such as light poles, trees, fences, water fountains, cars, benches, etc. It didn't matter where she started from, she'd always end up running smack into one of the afore mentioned items. No matter how I tried, I couldn't convince her that she alone held her crashing destiny, or the lack of it, in her own hands by the simple task of steering. I think she ended up being so afraid of again running into one of those things that her eyes would automatically lock in on what she was trying to avoid and as a result she'd drive right into it. I'll never forget watching her little self get whiplashed, again, as she crashed into the cement block at the park that has a water fountain on the top. It was my final straw. Much to her shock, the other girlies' shock, all those park goer's shock, my own shock, and probably not Naki's shock when he was told later on what happened (he knows me too well to be truly shocked), I lost it. I actually picked up her bike and threw it as far as I could. Given my extremely pregnant circumstance, I'd score my bike shotput a '10', for sure. Distance alone was rather impressive. What wasn't impressive was the fact that I did it at all. I try, I really try, but I just do not have as much patience as I should, or as much as the girls require and deserve. Don't worry. She was not permanently scarred from the experience. I hope. She quickly remedied her directional issues and to this day is a fantastic bike rider. I still am ashamed of my irrational temper tantrum.

So to say that I was dreading the day when it would be time for Eli to learn how to ride her bike would be an understatement. Anyone remember my post earlier about those training wheels of hers? Maybe with an understanding of how much I truly wanted her to NOT be needing to be taught how to ride without them would explain a bit of my anger when I couldn't attach them to her bike earlier this year.

This afternoon I decided to again tackle those darn training wheels. Seriously. I'm super annoyed that I STILL didn't get them to tighten enough. What's the deal with this anyway? I know there are plenty of people I could ask to do this, but it seems so simple that I should absolutely be able to do this one alone, unassisted. As I felt the steam beginning to pour from my ears, Eli casually mentioned that I didn't need to worry. She didn't really want them on anyway. She just wanted to learn how to ride without them. She said it so confidently that I am positive she was too young to remember the bike episode of 2008 and didn't know how much I really DID NOT want to go through all of this again. Oh well, I figured. I couldn't avoid it forever. Might as well start now.

Wouldn't you know, with just a little bit of helpful tips and advice, that girl took off! She was so determined, and only fell a couple of times. But really, what a fun experience, especially after dreading it so much. It was such a great surprise. I can't say that I 'taught' her how to ride a bike. She somehow was able to take the tips I told her and immediately apply them. She was so so super excited. It seemed perfect that Lose would be watching the whole thing, cheering her own. Hopefully she wasn't sitting there thinking awful vengeful thoughts about her monster mother.

My favorite thing Eli said about all of this was at the softball fields tonight. She had wanted to bring her bike, but that would only bring out the snowball effect of everyone wanting to bring them. Not only do I not have the ability with the van to bring all the bikes, but then I REALLY wouldn't be able to keep track of them during the game. As she was unloading her scooter in the parking lot, she stood on it, gave a dramatic wobble for effect, and told me "Wow, Mom. I can hardly ride my scooter now that I can ride my bike so well." What a cutie.















I asked Eli to show us how happy she really felt, instead of just a posing smile. This last picture was the result...she's doing a "Yessss!" at the same time. Thank You God, for the miracle that both Eli and I needed.

Such A Lady

During dinner tonight, I was treated to some stimulating conversation, thanks to Lose.

Lose: Uuughh..
Mom: What's wrong, Lose?
Lose: Oh Nothing! I'm just trying to pull out a nose hair to see how loud it makes me scream.

Never sure what's going to come out of the mouth of that one.