Reflections in a Mirror

I thought turning 40 would be a much bigger deal than it is. Happy Birthday to me. It seems to be just like any other day.

(2 days later.) I was at Cicely’s getting my haircut today. On her counter was a great picture of a kitten looking at its reflection in a mirror. The reflection was not one of a little orange tabby cat, but rather the king of all beasts…a lion. I had to chuckle a little bit. I could clearly see the message the picture was trying to convey-one of self confidence; one of empowerment. I was laughing, however, because the power of a beautician’s chair has the complete opposite effect on a woman. I’m serious. Think about it for a minute. Three weeks ago I was getting ready for work. After 30 minutes in front of a mirror, struggling to do SOMETHING with my hair, I give up. I decide it is about time for a haircut. After all, it has been a couple months. I have a good 2 inches of re-growth from when it was last colored. There is no shape anymore. I can’t get it to flip or curl under. Ugh! I look awful. I need to call and make an appointment. Well, life is crazy. I don’t think about it again until the next morning when I am again getting ready for work. So once again, first thing in the morning I am in looking at that stupid mirror telling myself how bad I look. It takes me a good week before I get around to calling for the appointment. It takes another 2 weeks before she can fit me in. By the time I sit in that chair, I have spent 3 entire weeks of telling myself how ugly I am. I don’t know about you, but once I start ripping on myself about one thing, it is easy to continue with just about everything else. “I need to lose weight!” “Is that another grey hair?” “Ugh! When did THAT wrinkle appear?” “Would you look at the circles under my eyes?” And of course the kids don’t help. My personal all time favorite, other than being asked when I’m going to have a baby when I’m not pregnant, is when Sierra asked me, “Mom? Why are your boobs in the wrong place?” I wasn’t wearing a bra at the time (something I will never do again, I might add.) By the time we actually make it to the salon and sit in that chair, we are usually so down on ourselves all we can see is every flaw, every wrinkle, every single grey hair on our head…real or imagined. As women, we are and always have been our very own worst critics. In jr high and high school we are constantly comparing ourselves to other girls. You would think it stops there, but it doesn’t. It continues on into college and even after we are married. The “real” picture should be the lion seeing the reflection of the kitten instead of the other way around. When I was about 15 or 16 (I could be totally getting the timing wrong), my dad would make us stand in front of the mirrored entry way at our house in West Bountiful. We were supposed to look ourselves in the eyes, and repeat the words, “I like myself!” 10x’s every morning before we left for school. I kid you not. I don’t know that it made much of a difference then, but now when I am standing in front of a mirror engaged with myself in a self defeating conversation, I remember those words and actually stop myself. (Ok. Maybe not all the time, but most of the time I stop myself.) Here I am now, 40 years old or celebrating the 11th anniversary of my 29th birthday, depending on how you want to look at it. I have found that over the years those self defeating conversations happen less and less. No longer is it a daily occurrence, well, except when I am in desperate need of a haircut. In fact, at 40 I think I like myself more than I ever have. I look back to the places I have been in my life, emotionally, mentally and even physically. I have done things I am not proud of, some even recently. I have made mistakes, made poor choices and I have hurt people. BUT…I have also made some very good choices. I have learned some poignant lessons from the mistakes I’ve made. I have learned to be patient, to trust, and how to forgive; I have learned to love unconditionally. I have learned that I am not perfect nor will I ever be. I will not always make the best decision as a parent and my children know it, but they also know I love them. They know I am trying my best…well, I hope they know it. I have learned that sugar is BAD unless my goal is to let the Mr. Hyde in me come out. I have learned that I will notice a difference in my mental health when I exercise long before I see any physical changes. And no matter what I do, I will NEVER have the physical body I had when I was 18…and I’m ok with that. At 18, I may have looked much better in a bikini but at 40, I am much more comfortable wearing one. So maybe I do see the lion when I look in the mirror…but it took me 40 years to get there.

Alright, enough of my rambling. Last year Odean got me the greatest present for my birthday. He bought me a badminton set. Can I tell you how much fun we have had as a family with it? We pretty much play every evening once the sun is behind the hill until the bugs drive us into the house…or until all of the birdies end up on the roof. We don’t play regulation but just volley it back and forth. The kids rotate in and out as others need a break or until someone hits it over the fence. Talon is always quite comical. He can’t just hit the birdie, he has to add a “ninja leap”. Maybe one day I will actually be able to snap a shot for posterity’s sake. During a big wind storm last summer the poles actually broke. As a late mother’s day gift, Odean made me some new poles out of pvc pipe so we could continue our summer evening tradition. By the time my birthday hit, we had were down to the last birdie. All the others had been played to death. They literally had fallen apart from use. So what did I get for my birthday this year? BIRDIES!!! Hooray! Let the games begin!

I’m not the only one who had a birthday this month. Jens turned 10 on the 19th. Because of conflicts with a school program that evening, we chose to celebrate the last day of his 9th year instead of the first day of his 10th. Rather than cake, we had a tower of donuts. Hmmmm, is it a tradition if we have had donuts for the previous 3 people to celebrate birthdays in our family?

Distractions & Jr. Prom

I’m trying to decide which has been a bigger distraction lately-my Cricut or Facebook. I could argue that it is good time spent on either. If I’m using my Cricut (“playing” according to the kids,) then I am exercising the creative part of my brain. I could also argue that I am bringing happiness to those I am designing for-whether my children, my primary class or the assorted friends I have made cards for. If I’m creating a scrapbook page, then I could say, “I’m preserving memories for future generations.” (Does that sound like as big of a load of crap as it does to me?) What about Facebook? I’m reconnecting with cousins & family members, actually keeping track of my brothers, sisters and their families, and even reacquainting myself with friends from the past-in some cases as far back as elementary school. As I was growing up, we had a pretty close extended family. Holidays were spent at my grandparents with most of the cousins. For those who lived in California, we would head out west most summers to spend a week or two on the beach with them. As we got older and our lives became crazier, it became harder and harder to get together. Pretty soon we were only able to visit at the occasional wedding. Now most of us are married and the funerals, thank goodness, haven’t started yet. I probably spend the majority of time catching up with old friends. I have thought of over the years. I am very grateful to have the venue to find these old friends, people whom I have lost touch with but thought about often. Some of these friends have played very pivotal roles in my life, people who have helped me become who I am…whether they knew it or not. Some of them I have even tried to track down on my own with no luck. The problem with Facebook, however, comes from me having so very little time for anything extra. Why is it I don’t have time to check my email, but I can find the time to get on Facebook which takes infinitely longer to even load onto my computer? Walker told one of my friends at church yesterday that I didn’t have time to make dinner anymore so I was making the kids cook. Wow…is that how he views it? While it is true that I am having the kids take turns cooking AND that I am very busy, the reason for it is simply to help them learn. Granted, Walker and Jens are both a little young, but they aren’t assigned their own night-they are supposed to help. If my 8 yr old thinks I am too busy to do my “mom” job, I have no business crafting or being on the computer.

I think Talon learned a few valuable lessons this week. First, don’t ever ask your girlfriend, “Do you want me to take you to Jr. Prom or what?” If she says, “Whatever you want to do, “ what she is really saying is, “Of course I do, but I want you to WANT to take me.” When she starts sending you pictures of dresses on your phone…she might as well be saying, “ASK ME TO THE STINKING PROM!!!!” It’s too bad he didn’t figure it out until 2 days before the dance. The dance itself was on Valentine’s Day. (Who on earth planned that one?) Talon spent the afternoon cooking and putting together a picnic for him and Allie. He packed the basket, grabbed a blanket, and headed out the door in his new suit (too bad he didn’t get a hair cut). Lesson #2-When you are having a picnic after dark in February, it’s going to be REALLY cold. Bring HOT food or skip the picnic altogether.

Best of Intentions, Walker turns 8, and saying Goodbye

One thing I have learned over the years is that during the rush and craziness of December, I always have the best of intentions for the new year. I know better than to make formal resolutions, but I find myself saying things like, “ok…forget the Christmas cards this year, I will send out a Valentine’s letter instead.” Or “I have got to get all this junk off my desk; I’ll take care of it after CHA when I have a minute to breathe.” Then there is, “oh yeah, I still haven’t blown the computer out this month…I’ll have Talon do it Saturday.” Or when I said, “I will be much better about blogging-no more of this once every couple months crap.” Not to mention, “I shouldn’t be drinking Mountain Dew. This will be my last one. Just one last swallow.” (Which is NEVER just a swallow; well, actually sometimes it is, but very rarely.) Anyway, it’s very sad. For each thing I think of 5 more come to mind. I have every intention of following through, but the reality of it is that I still don’t have time to sit down to write the Valentine’s letter (I’m doing this instead,) and I can ask Talon (again) to take the computer out to clean it but that doesn’t mean he will. And although I haven’t had any Mountain Dew for 2 weeks now, I may need it to stay awake today. My plan is to use the early morning hours on Saturday when I open at work to write my blog…not that I think there is anyone anxiously waiting to read what I have to say. I simply write as a way of keeping track of thoughts and events for future recollection.

January was a good month although it went by much to fast. Walker turned 8 at the beginning of the month. No party this year, which turned out ok simply because he was (is) still so captivated by the Nintendo DS he got for Christmas. He was thrilled with the tower of Hostess Cupcakes and I had been able to find the exact Lego set he had been asking for, (and let me tell you, it was quite a miracle.) Walker is a pretty laid back kid, very low maintenance. Give him a mint and a time to snuggle occasionally and he is a happy camper. He is extremely smart (especially when it comes to numbers) but lazy. A few years ago his teacher told me, “He will go to an exceptional amount of work to keep from doing any work.” He is such the youngest child…he knows how to work the system not only at school but at home too. He knows I am to busy to do the follow-up when I have asked him to do something. When the older kids are in charge, he is not nearly as happy- go-lucky, simply because there is no way they are going to let him get away with stuff they never could. And although he won’t admit it, he is already starting to like girls. In his second grade class, if he doesn’t take his homework back to school completed everyday he isn’t allowed to go to recess. I have him sit down everyday with me after school before he plays to get it done. He doesn’t, however, “remember” to take it back unless I have threatened to take the DS away on the weekend (it’s the only time he is allowed to play.) About a month ago, I was helping in his class. It was recess and once again he was sitting at his desk because he had failed to bring his homework back to his teacher. I noticed that the room was filled with little girls…about 7 of them, who also had failed to bring their homework back. I pretended to read while watching the interaction between him & the girls. Later that night I asked if the girls spent most of their recess in class, too. Yes. “Walker, is that why you don’t take your homework back to school, because you like to stay in class with those girls?” He didn’t answer, but the flushed face and the smile said it all.

Walker was also baptized at the end of the month by his dad and confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints by his Grandpa Allman, my dad. Walker was so excited to find out my dad was coming. When Odean & I pointed out to Walker that Grandpa Bowler had confirmed Jens and did he want to ask Grandpa Allman to confirm him, you should have seen the look on his face. (And I’m kicking myself for not getting a picture of them together. Obviously I was not thinking.) About a week before, Alesi Taylor asked Walker if he was excited to be baptized. His response? “Oh yeah, ‘cause all my sins will be washed away like Wednesday morning when I was playing my DS in bed under my covers when I wasn’t supposed to.” I guess I need to hide that DS better.

January has also been the end of an era, of sorts, for me. For the last 7 years I have been fortunate enough to have the opportunity to work with a marvelous group of people in the scrapbook & crafting industry. I started teaching at a local store at a time when “scrapbooking” was the rising star of past-time hobbies. I was there for close to 5 years when I moved away from the retail/consumer aspect of the hobby and began to work with a repping group covering all stores south of Nephi. (There were originally only 3 large enough to buy direct.) Anyway, twice a year I had the privilege of working for Creativity Inc. at the Craft & Hobby Association (CHA) tradeshows and then again at a couple other events a year. There was even one summer where every couple weeks I flew to another consumer show to teach classes for 3 or 4 days. It was always a nice break away from the kids and my “mom” life. I looked forward to wearing clothes I didn’t have to worry about peanut butter or mud being smeared on. I could sleep through the night and actually eat food while it was still hot, not to mention adult conversation for the entire week. I made some amazing friends, people who have made a lasting mark on my life in one way or another; people well worth the effort to keep in touch with.
As the industry has slowed down, I have felt a little lost. Those I started out with have either left the company or moved up. I have felt a little lost. I have had opportunities to move within the company but have felt strongly that “mom” should be my only career. Traveling a few times a year is very different than traveling monthly. As the company changed its focus away from the independents and more towards the box stores, I have had fewer orders to write and more time sitting at the shows. I have often wondered why I was there, not wanting to be considered simply a show “fixture” but not ready to say goodbye to my “other family” yet. My life has gotten increasingly busier as it often does as children get older. I have 4 teenagers and will have teenagers for another 12 years or so. It was so much easier to be gone when they were little. I never realized how much teenagers needed a mom to be there and available. Not just to take them places but to listen, to laugh, to help them unwind from the social pressures at school while they are trying to find themselves. (Writing this, I actually realize what a great disservice I did to Gypsy by adding pressure to her while I was gone. I should have stopped years sooner. Although I told her I would stop any time, I should have known would never ask.)
I truly expected that as I told my friends of my decision, I would become emotional and change my mind. It never happened. The same peace I had felt when I made my decision stayed with me throughout the entire show. I admit I did have my teary moments but I knew I was done and that it was for the right reason. I hope to still do occasional work for Creativity. Maybe the occasional ad for Hobby Lobby or design samples for the trade shows; I would even like to help with the annual Archiver’s event at Mall of America in September if my schedule allows; I just can’t bear not getting to see Wendy (photo left) and Iliana (photo right). I still love to scrapbook, probably more than ever, but as for the trade shows I’ve said goodbye. (Photos of Wendy, Iliana and my blog photo were taken by my great friend, Becky http://beckynovacek.typepad.com/live_and_learn/)

The Week of December...surely it wasn't an entire month!

Christmas came and went much too fast. I am starting to see how time is moving much faster as I am getting older…maybe it isn’t because of my age nearly as much as it is because of my increasingly busy life. Or maybe it is simply a mixture of both. Whatever the reason, it seems as if just when I had time to take a deep breath and enjoy Christmas, It was gone. The memories are already fading like the fragmented dreams from just last night.

December started off…hmmm. I’m not sure. Seems like I went to sleep after Thanksgiving dinner and woke up mid month. I do remember having the wonderful opportunity of chaperoning Gypsy and the Snow Canyon Madrigals/performance choir to Salt Lake City. They had about 11 different performances in 2 days, starting at the State Capital Building and ending on Temple Square in the Assembly Hall. I admit I went reluctantly. I didn’t want to go because I felt I was too busy. I hadn’t even started with the Gunlock Pageant; not a gift had been made or purchased. I had something scheduled every night and I was scheduled to work every day. When Gypsy asked me to go I could see in her eyes how important it was to her. (She denies this fact, but she did tell me it would be the best Christmas present I could give her.) I don’t remember the last time I was so torn. I even cried to Shanna who quickly put it all into perspective for me, “Kim, she is 18 years old. How many more opportunities are you going to have to do this kind of thing? Do you not realize how lucky you are that she even wants to spend time with you?” I actually sat in the van and cried when we hung up because I knew she was right. I didn’t cry because I didn’t want to go, I cried because I realized what a precious opportunity it was. I was ashamed that I ever considered not going.

As I try to organize my thoughts about the trip to put down, I realize I can’t do it justice. I choke up just thinking about it. These kids were amazing-both in voice and in spirit. Everywhere we went there was some sort of little “moment”…maybe not for everyone, but certainly for me. I should have kept my journal with me constantly. I could have written about the little boy at Primary Children’s Hospital who was just being released after having a brain tumor removed. Or the woman from Ivins who was at Church Office Building. She is serving a mission in the Family History Center and was there hoping to catch a glimpse of anyone she might have known from home. Or when upon completing their performance at the Assembly Hall, the gentleman in charge abruptly demanded to know who’s parent had a camera. (This was after, prior to the performance, he explained why no photographs were allowed to bed taken in the building). As the kids filed off the stand he then whispered to Mr. Reimer, “I have probably heard 100 different choirs so far this season, and I have NEVER heard anything like that!” And no one will forget when Sister Dalton, the president of the YW’s organization hugged each one as she looked in their eyes and spoke to them individually. (Even the boys waited anxiously for their minute to visit with her.) It was the high point of the season for me… the perfect way to start Christmas.

Ten days before Christmas, still no presents had been purchased. Not for the kids, any extended family or for the annual Gunlock Christmas Eve program. I think I had canceled and rescheduled the shopping for the program at least 3 times. I did at this point have the day scheduled to get Santa’s Gunlock shopping done. Buying toys for 65 kids with a blank check from Santa himself….it just doesn’t get better than that! But it did!!!! The most wonderful snow storm came swooping in with a vengeance. It has been years since we had snow this close to Christmas. All morning people would come into Dutchman’s, moaning and groaning about the weather. I drove people crazy with my giggles and smiles. Someone even growled and told me to go back where I came from. When it came time to leave work and begin shopping I couldn’t have been happier. Alesi Taylor & Sara Laub met me at Walmart. Let the party begin!!! In less than an hour and a half we had the majority of shopping done. No stress, just Christmas carols all the way. Believe it or not, my favorite part of the night was driving home in white-out conditions, at about 5 miles an hour. What normally takes me 25 minutes took 2 ½ hours. I sang at the top of my lungs the entire way.
It snowed all night. We were stuck in Gunlock for most of the next day. The school bus couldn’t leave. I couldn’t make it to work. We took the day to get the house straightened & cleaned. When the kids were in bed, the decorations went up. Speaking of decorations….I don’t think I have ever enjoyed putting out my things near as much. Every item that came out of the box was a little trip down memory lane. Every seasonal item I own has been a gift from someone I love or something I made. My favorites? Definitely the reindeer Mindy gave me years ago. It was handmade, tea-dyed with twig antlers and wearing a red tutu. Odean hates it. He thinks it looks like a jack rabbit that has been run-over by a truck…notice the bulging eyes. I love it so much that it stays out until after Valentines Day. (With all the red, I feel it is justified.) I also love my nesting snowman boxes. Years ago we came home from FHE at a friend’s home to find these 10 nesting boxes filled with gifts at our door. We were financially struggling and not sure if we would be able to pay our usual monthly expenses, let alone a bill from Santa. The kids were so excited! I remember what was in each and every box. Not very long ago, probably within the last 6 months, I found out who left those boxes. (To my knowledge, they don’t know I know.) It makes me love the boxes even more. Then there are all my Santas. I never consciously planned on collecting them but I have accumulated quite a few. I have a couple given to me by my sister Tami, many from my mom-gotta love The Santa & Reindeer Tango. Then there is my Santa painting the toy fire truck, given to me by my late Grandma Felt. And although I know Grandma gave the same Santa to many (if not all) of her married grandkids, I feel as if she picked it out just for me. I could go on and on listing each and every decoration with the memories that come rushing forth. While I was taking out each item, it dawned on me that the decorating that takes place at around the holidays isn’t really about just making the house look festive…at least not for me it isn’t. It is about surrounding myself with memories of those I love whom I don’t get to see or share the holiday with. It makes me a little sad that it is time for it all to be put away. I’m just not ready to say goodbye to all the memories for another year, but having it all out just represents one more thing that needs to be done.

Distinguished Scholar

Congrats to Gypsy for her SUU Distinguished Scholar Award. She has always busted her butt in school regardless of the subject. It is now paying off as colleges are trying to recruit her for next year. Great job!

Halloween, Birthdays & Parties, Old Friends...

I know it is November, but just one last comment on the holiday and some photos…Gotta love having kids old enough to take care of Halloween costumes on their own. I love that Sabrina & her friends got together and planned a “theme”. They worked on pageant sashes all week. I’m hoping one of the moms was able to get a group photo at the party Friday night. Jens’ and Walker’s costumes were thrown together just prior to heading into school. Jen’s bandages didn’t make through the day-they drove him crazy. The wound tattoos, however, seem to still be holding strong almost 2 weeks later.

Last week was Sabrina’s 12th birthday. Wow…has it really been that long? It seems like only yesterday when she was screaming nonstop, spitting up constantly, and in the hospital with RSV. It was winter; we were living at Bigelow Ranch in a home with no furnace and with kids sleeping in our bed or on the living room floor. Seems like a nightmare now, but sometimes I actually miss it…not really. I’m rambling… Anyway, my little girl turned 12! She is an amazing young lady-ok…having issues with “young lady” not that she isn’t one-more along the lines of “denial” that she is old enough to fall into that category. She is so sweet-I love watching her with little kids. She always tries to involve them in whatever games she and her friends are playing. She is very nurturing and tender. She would like to be a nurse someday-a field I think she will excel in. She likes playing the clarinet but can’t wait until after Christmas to change to the oboe. She loves to read and loves papercrafting of all kinds. It’s not uncommon to find her and Lexi or Keki & La spread out on the floor in the homework room surrounded by scrapbooking supplies. So anyway, it was her birthday and I was not here. I know, very crummy of me-I was in Kaysville at my sister Tami’s house, watching her kids while she was in Hawaii with friends. (If Tami was a better sister, she would have sent me instead-but she didn’t.) Tami had to get permission from Sabrina for me to be gone before I agreed to go up there. She did give permission but there were a couple of conditions. First was that Tami had to bring her home something from Hawaii-which she did and Sabrina LOVED, btw. Second, was that I would allow Sabrina to have one last birthday party-which is this coming Saturday. I think the last time Sabrina had an actual birthday party was when she turned 8. This party will have a scrapbook theme. I figured with all the extra supplies I have left over from various classes taught over the years I would only have to spend $ on a glue stick for each girl. I am using older sales samples of albums, stamp sets, paper packs and calendars as “prizes” for the girls to take home. I knew I must be saving all this stuff for a reason!

While I was up in Kaysville, I was able to reconnect with some friends from high school. I had lunch with Stacey McNellis one afternoon at Applebee’s. (She hasn’t changed a bit.) I connected with Talena Johnson through Facebook and then read her blog from beginning to end-it is amazing what I have the patience to do when it doesn’t take 2 days for an internet page to come up. I’ve known Talena since I first moved to West Bountiful in 1st grade-she sat right next to me and was the only person who read more. (Isn’t it funny the things we remember?) We had almost every elementary school class together. (This was our 5th grade class photo-Talena is top row far right. I am bottom row far right.)

I also was able to visit with Kelli Rencher-now Rollins, at her home in Bountiful. Can I just tell you how much I love Kelli? We became friends in 9th grade-never had a class together but our lockers were close. She always called me Kimless, actually still does…I never could figure out why. We both worked for Desert Book after high school in different locations but for the same manager. She has 5 very active boys of whom I only met the youngest, a 2 year old. He looks just like her. Whenever I need a good laugh I read her blog. Anyway, I tell you this because the next little bit about my house is specifically for her.

...What Makes a House a Home, Coming Home and Vanquishing Evil …not to be confused with “Vanquishing Evil Upon Coming Home.”

I have a love/hate relationship with my house. I LOVE where we live . I LOVE the fact that I have a relatively low house payment. I LOVE the low ceilings, the low utilities, the paneled walls…actually, sometimes I hate that part, and I love the layout that allows me to know who is home and where they are at all times. I love the giant tub in my bathroom. I love the built on addition that gives me a family room, food storage and that gives me a place to throw all of Odean’s stuff that he leaves lying around. I love that the water heater and stove are run on propane instead of electricity-when the power goes out I can still cook and have a hot bath…even if it is off for days. I love that my house is lived in, child friendly, and comfortable. It isn’t the nicest or the newest with all the stainless steel, granite, rock and wood of the newer houses. While I was at Kelli’s we got in a debate over who’s house had more of a “White Trash” look. This conversation wasn’t a “feel sorry for me” pitty party, not in the least. It was a laughing realization of how much we are alike in ideals and priorities. We both have older homes that need attention. We both have large families and the expenses that come with them. It seems for both of us that whenever we have the money saved to fix or replace the cupboards, floors, carpet, etc…either a car or major appliance dies and needs to be replaced. Windows get fixed only to break again within weeks or sometimes even within days. While both of us dream of owning furniture that hasn’t belonged to someone else first, we are very grateful for the well loved pieces from friends and family. Every thing we own has a story with how it ended up in here. And Kelli, while I will concede that your kitchen wins the “Hammered” award with the missing cupboard doors and the loose railing (even though you must admit the holey carpet over the linoleum and mustard stove missing the oven knobs has a nice touch,) I do win the “Trailer Trash” award with my overall outside view. I do admit I wouldn’t mind a new house with new appliances someday, I wouldn’t trade the memory of Talon falling through the floor while on the toilet for anything!
I am finding that going away from home without my kids is even harder now that they are teenagers than it was when Walker was 1 and I was going to work at the trade shows for the first time. Back then it was hard to get ready-I needed to arrange for someone to watch the little ones during the day until their Dad got home. I had to have meals planned and prepared for the week I was going to be gone. Not only did I have to pack for myself, but I needed to have everyone else’s laundry done, bags packed for each person’s house each individual child might be going to. The house was usually trashed when I got home. Odean’s philosophy was always, “If they are alive when you get home, I’ve done my job.” It got easier over the years as the kids got older. They were able to do their own laundry, prepare their own meals; I just had to make sure there was laundry detergent and options for dinner. I would get home and things would be relatively picked up. It would almost seem like just another day. Now I have 4 teenagers. There are schedules to be juggled; homework to follow up with and make sure it gets completed. Instead of just having to remind Odean that there are kids at home-now’s not the time to be working late if you can help it-I have 4 others that are so self absorbed that they forget Jens & Walker still need supervision and help. I’m not saying that my kids are totally selfish but the true nature of almost any teenager is that the world pretty much revolves around themselves. I have spent the first two days home with my teenagers lined up and bursting at the seams, waiting for their turn to erupt with all the emotional baggage they have had pent up waiting for my return. I have spent the next two days recovering from it. And while it is every bit as exhausting as was the late nights up with a baby, the countless diaper changes, the many miles spent pacing with sleepless babies, I wouldn’t go back to the other for anything in the world. I LOVE having teenagers. I love seeing how far they have come. I love getting a little glimpse of what they will be like as adults. I don’t always love what I see, but I love them tremendously.

And finally, just when you were thinking this was never going to end, I close with photos of our own Superheros as they spend a day vanquishing evil rather than cleaning their rooms like they were supposed to. (And I quote, “But Mom! There was evil to be vanquished! My room could wait just a little longer!”)