Motherhood:

Is to be surprised. Life is rarely what I expected or planned.

Is to dig in with my unpolished fingernails; to throw dirt, to catch creatures, and to breathe in the belief that I know exactly what I am doing. Especially when I do not.

Is to accept: myself, my husband, my children for who they are--and to love each without conditions.

Is to become a walking trash receptical, and to rejoice when my children choose-independently--to wipe and toss their own boogers in the nearest trash can, rather than your hands.

Is to forgive and to forget...often to forgive myself for forgetting.

Is to imagine: to make my sons swoon over my animated vocal impersonations and daring hypothetical scenarios. All while simultaneously attempting to do the dishes.

Is to be on my knees mopping the crumbs, designing railroads, steadying little bodies, disciplining, hugging, apologizing and praying to God for help to do it over and over again. 

Is practicing: music and homework and patience and patience and patience.

Is to see myself and my family years from now, and to build our days with my vision for tomorrow.

Is to be brave enough to submit.

Is to read with little ones competing for a place on your lap, and to allow their fat fingers to poke me repeatedly in the eyeball when I dose off midsentence.

Is to advocate for my child; to succeed and fail against great odds, and to teach him to do the same. 

Is to sorrow for pains that are not my own, but that my love chose to bear.

Is my greatest challenge and blessing: a process of becoming--digging a little deeper, trying a little harder, being a little better than I was yesterday. For them.

How lucky I am to share parenting with my Jonny: my love, my support, my inspiration.

The boys surprise me with flowers, a new beautiful bedspread, personalized notes, and promises of painting my bedroom!  I am one lucky mom.

Musical Notes

1. When performing at the year end Rocky Mountain Strings concert, always check to be sure that the violin is in the case before leaving the house.

2. If the case just happened to be empty upon arrival, send Paul (the zombie apocalypse driver) to the nearest relative's home and hope that their spare violin is the right size.

3. Borrow a younger student's violin for the more advanced numbers until Paul enters just on time for the twinkles number with the backup violin.

4. Play the twinkles like a pro, just like Ella did, without a chin or shoulder rest. It can happen to anyone.

5. Then, bow like the exciting mishap was your secret plan all along.

5. Invite a totally rockin girl named Kara to her 40th bday KARAoke party at a dive of a joint.

6. Take silly selfies in the eerie blue light.

7. Watch your sassy sister sing "I'll stand bare footed in my own front yard with a baby on my hip..." With her baby on her hip. And then repeat "hell yeah!" When the song requests all the redneck girls to do so. 

8. Let your mom take silly selfies with your phone. And then post them on your blog.

9. Sing "halo" and believe that you are Beyonce.

10. Wave your lighted cell phone in the air while your sister sings possibly the saddest country songs ever written. "La la la la la la la, la la la la la la laaaaaaa..."

11. Party on stage Mama Mia style while your mom totally rocks out (even though she initially acted like you were forcing her to do).

12. Call your husband and tell him you are finally coming home...two hours later than expected.

13. Make plans to do it all over again.

Queen of the Hill

My cousin Kara turned 40 years old today. Though she looks like she is turning 30. She inherited the coveted Dionne skin, but of course her beauty runs much deeper than that. See what I mean?

Naturally, the boys and I thought it would be fitting to decorate her house beautifully for her birthday. So, with poster paper and permanent markers in hand, we went to her home to set up a little surprise for the queen of the hill.

Aaron helped me cut out the pennant. JJ personalized some of the posters with watercolors. And then we did what we do best: attacked the room with streamers.

The chocolate cake with 40 candles, a crown, and an invitation to a KARAoke girls night the following evening topped it off. The whole secret mission was really quite exciting.  The boys would agree, except for davey who flawlessly carried out his assignment of sleeping the entire time. 

We left before she arrived, leaving the surprise to Stephen, her husband. I received an excited phone call from the birthday queen about an hour after we departed. I'm so glad she enjoyed it. Kara has always been a role model, confidant, support beam, A creative genius, an incredibly hard worker, and and an exemplary mother in my life. My boys adore her boys. Sometimes you just get lucky in life to have someone like Kara one stage ahead of you to show you what its all about.

 Happy birthday Queen of the Aina (land) :)!

Going Nowhere at All

This was my face before my five hour work out:

I don't have a picture of my face afterwards.  It's for the better, really.  I'd rather not remember how I looked when I admitted that my stomach was calling it a day.  It churned and ached near the top of my ribs.  It yelled, "what the heck do you think you are doing?! up my esophagus.  No upheaval, however...though it might have relieved a bit of the nagging pains.

I'm training for a half ironman race that takes place in just a few weeks. And I'm doing my best to stay focused and motivated. Coordinating help for the kiddos during the necessary training hours is enough to tempt me to throw in the towel. Thank goodness for nana and grandpatty. My boys love being with them so much and I don't worry when I leave them smiling in their arms. Driving an extra two hours to have them well cared for is worth it, even if it ends up taking the entire day to work out.

This whole thing seems crazy right now, and maybe it sort of is. But all the moments in my life when I have been stretched, broken and forced to pick up pieces of myself in places I never would have looked otherwise--they all felt sort of crazy: moving to the islands; Vietnam; 24 credits as a newlywed at BYU Hawaii; cochlear implants; driving home 8 mos prego from South Carolina through a Kansas thunderstorm, etc. They all made me feel like puking at one point or another.

So I sit here writing while peddling my stationary wheel in the basement of my house, and I remind myself that I can find the courage to continue: to push against my doubts, my fears, my time, and my fatigue and my expectations. Some of my life's greatest moments are earned when it feels like I'm going nowhere at all.

Tugging on Time

Aaron's front tooth is loose.  And it's irresistible.  From the second he walked off the bus today he has been hard at work tugging on the poor thing.    

I'm sure that my cringing only encouraged him to pull harder. In fact, I know it did.  I never liked pulling my own teeth out and--as it turns out--I'm not a very good audience for it either.  I am, however, very good at listening to Aaron play the violin. So you can imagine my inner turmoil today when he began tugging at his tooth during a group class recital. Hence, I took a picture. What else was there to do besides memorialize this moment in Aaron's life?

I sure love going to and from violin with this guy.  Practicing can be quite laborious for both of us, but Wednesdays are good days.  He loves to chat with me about growing up and all the cool stuff he can do.  And he can do a lot of cool stuff.  At the lesson he plays his best. And he loves showing Mrs. Stirling what he can do.  I love watching him soak in her stories and bask in her attention.  When Aaron wore his "matching" mis-matched shoes (one red, one black...one on each foot) and she made a big deal about how genius his fashion statement was, he has worn them to every violin lesson since.  Even to his little recital tonight.  He played Allegro and Long Long Ago with great poise in those mis matched shoes.  

And when he had to wait patiently for the group numbers to be announced, he did so while tugging on his tooth.  It sort of feels like he is tugging on his childhood.  And I don't want it to fall out.  Aaron loves to be big.  He loves the thought of growing old.  And it's all happening so fast.  Hang in there as long as you can baby tooth.  Don't fall out.  

Housekeeping

When attempting to mop a floor with two eager helpers, four dirty feet and one little injury prone rugrat ready clinging to your heels--it is difficult to contemplate the purpose of housekeeping.  Am I doing this to teach them how to clean?  That it's important to clean? To help them feel the joy of a household in order? Or simply so I don't go crazy looking through piles of clothes for one white undershirt. Probably all of the above.

But really, when JJ tipped over his cup of milk moments after tromping through the kitchen with little black footprints, it's no wonder I growled a little bit. (And it's no wonder why JJ growls whenever he's frustrated.) That sweet jiggy JJ.  I can still hear the echo of his "I'm sorry mom, I'm sorry," in the back of my mind.  My patience stretches and I feel like overlooking all the dust and dirt plastered on the silly floor.  And when I look at Davey's vertical line-shaped bruise on his face, I never want to put him down to pick up a mop again. 

But Aaron's know-it-all excitement redeems my motivation.  "I can do it mom, I know how! It's my turn mom.  I already know how to do it!"  It's then that I begin to fantasize about my three boys doing all my housework for me.  Yah yah, I know...in my dreams--but it was enough to get me through today: scrubbing the tub, bleaching the toilets, folding and putting away mountains of laundry and all.

That, and hearing Aaron say, "MOM! it smeels sooooo clean in here!" while he sat on the pot tonight.  I guess it wasn't a waste of time after all.

Family Night

Tonight was family night.  We were unprepared, short on time, and tired...so we improvised.  Jonny grabbed the guitar and headed out to the grass.

We followed his lead.  Davey immediately lit up.  He crawled strait for the strumming, pulled himself up on dada's shoulder, then anchored onto the strings with all his might.  The most adorable bopping and "na na na na na" singing session ensued.  We sang our "first kiss song," a few primary songs, and a few of Jonny's guitar favorites.

The boys jumped and giggled and wrestled and...

photobombed to their heart's content.  And I was the lucky one to be behind the camera, capturing it all.  Sometimes the best nights are unscripted.