HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Ben & I - December 1980

Today is my brother's birthday. He was born on 12/12/80.  He would have been 33 today.

All week I've thought about how I wanted to do a blog post on his birthday and say things to him that I wish I could have said over the past 10 months.

But now as I sit here I almost feel like a blank slate.  I feel like I have nothing to say and that I should just log off, hoping that maybe that flow of words will come later.

Perhaps I'll start with this:

Sunday I was reading a little article that said something along the lines of "children who know their family history feel more secure in their lives".  The premise was that children who are told stories about their parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles etc. grow up knowing where they belong and where they came from.  Also, children who know the story of their own births, the story of how they got their names and where they fit in a family are better off in society. 

Over the past 10 months I have felt that crack in my foundation.  I've said before that Ben was an "always" person for me - meaning that he was always there.  I have no memories prior to his birth.  He, along with my parents and grandparents, were people who I had never been without.  It gave me a firm foundation whereon I was able to build my identity. 

Now I feel that void.  The knowledge that he isn't there haunts me.  In some ways I feel like I don't know who I am totally.  I mean, so much is the same about me, but so very much is different.

My siblings and I at Ben's wedding

 When people ask me how many siblings I have, I have to pause and think about it.  Even though I believe that Ben is still alive somewhere, for the moment I am no longer a person who has a brother.  I just have two sisters.  Something is off in the balance of my life.  We were never a family of three children.... but we are now. 

There's a crack in my life's foundation.

Perhaps the hardest thing has been what I feared it would be.  The text messages I can't send.  The phone calls I can't make.  The visits that will never happen.  Sometimes when I think of the long future ahead of me without my brother I feel a horrible choking sensation.  I still can't quite deal with that thought.

There are pictures I still can't bear to look at.  I still haven't watched the DVD from his funeral of pictures of his life.

While I believe that Ben is still involved in our lives and cares about what we're doing, it's painfully lonely to not have him here, as always, chatting about it with me in person.

Today I'm allowing myself to remember.  To embrace the emotions on a day that I used to celebrate.  Even though my heart aches, I'm grateful that I loved him enough to miss him so much.  It means our bond was close. 

Sometimes I feel him.  I see his little half grin and I feel his love.  I'm grateful for these snippets of time in my busy life.  They are moments when I feel partially back to normal.

For those of you who haven't yet experienced this loss in your lives, I ask that you be patient this holiday season with people whose hearts are full of days past.  Be gentle.  Be understanding.  And have faith that when it's your turn, others will do the same for you.

Happy Birthday B. 

I'll love you for always.

Christmas Letter 2013

I bet you thought I'd given up on blogging.  You may be correct.  We'll just see.  One of my main problems is time (translation:  My Dad seeing me slack off during the day) and the fact that I don't have a computer at my parent's house.  So I just borrow my mom's, which doesn't have any of my pictures.  Since I kinda feel like pictureless blogs are a total let down, I have hit a slump.

On that note, I hope you enjoy this pictureless letter.  Our 2013 Hadley Happenings.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hadley Happenings 2013

“There is no greater gift at Christmas than 

to have everything you want before you open the gifts.”

Steve & Aspen:  Steve is sneaking up on his 15 year mark working for Intermountain.  He likes to list all the reasons that growing a beard makes a man more attractive.  Aspen continues to stay home and some days wants to arm wrestle the baby for who gets a nap.  We recently sold our home and are living with Aspen’s parents while looking /saving for a new home. 

Ms. Els has turned 10 and was finally able to get her ears pierced.  Afterwards she felt a little bit lied to as “that pinched much harder than she’d been told it would!”  Thankfully the reward of having sweet new earrings outweighed the injury sustained.  Our sassy girl is now the same height that her mother was in the 6^th grade and as the leader of the pack insists on walking ahead of the group at all times.  When she sets her tyrannical tendencies aside she is the best co-parent Aspen could hope for!

Cadie Lu:  (almost 8) broke both bones in her left arm over the summer in a spectacular scooter crash.  She re-broke her left arm in November in a spectacular trampoline launch aided by an angry sibling.  Cadie continues to truly excel in school - learning Chinese and being invited to test for an advanced program.  She got 100% on every end of year exam.  And yet, she can never find her shoes, can’t remember which toothbrush is hers, and isn’t sure if she made her bed this morning.  Also, she likes to take off her socks and fill them with crushed leaves at recess. 

J Bear: (5) continues to memorize random things, such as calendar dates and street numbers.   He  remembers pretty much everything you ever say to him, so tread lightly!  He also falls down a lot and is convinced that riding a bike isn’t for him.  He likes to play video games and tell jokes.  He’s become interested in cars and when he opened the utility closet in a home the other day he yelled, “Look there’s the house’s engine!”

Bubba J: (2 this month) has discovered the word no, scowling, screaming and insists on speaking really loudly in quiet places.  He loves all things with engines – trains, cars, trucks, airplanes and helicopters.  He screams for joy when he hears one drive or fly by during the day.  He has been known to beg for Jeep rides relentlessly.  Bubba J is our only blonde, blue-eyed baby and his siblings love to make him laugh and teach him funny phrases and noises.

This holiday we are so grateful for all the goodness we’ve received this past year.  In particular, we want to thank you for your kind words, cards and emails at the passing of Aspen’s brother, Ben, in February.  We are grateful for our belief that we will see our loved ones again!  And we are especially grateful for the blessing of family and friends who bring us much happiness daily!! 

Merry Christmas from the Hadley's  

Movers and Shakers

You know what's weird?

Moving back in with your parents after almost two decades of living on your own.

Oops.... that just reminded me that I left my mom's clothes in the washing machine and I was supposed to change them out.

Busted.

I'd better go do that.

Anyhow, it's the little things like that which make me feel strangely off kilter.

Also, lying on the bed of my past bedroom...next to man.... who may try to kiss me.  ILLEGAL!!!

One thing I am loving is having my Jasec Benjamin living in my brother Ben's old room.  I'm loving how he wakes up each morning yelling "jeep, cars, truck" and basically goes straight out to the garage where he wants to spend his entire day following Grandpa around and sitting in the front seat of whichever vehicle we'll put him in.  Just like his Uncle Ben used to do.

It's bittersweet.  I hope Ben's looking down from heaven on his little namesake and loving watching him as much as I do.

So, I suppose you've gathered that the Hadley's are in transition.  As with all things, once I make a decision I tend to run full steam ahead, dragging poor Hubs along with me like a bleeding carcass of confusion behind my locomotive.

Good news is that this time he's alive and was on the same page as me.  Okay, he too wanted to sell the house.  I don't think he realized that once I got the green light I'd be like the Mario Andretti of real estate.

He will most likely need a hospital stay to recuperate.

See, I think we decided on like October 1st to sell our house.  We listed it on October 8th.  We moved in with my parents on October 12th, and as of today we're under contract.  BAM!

If everything goes smoothly we'll close on the sale by November 20th.

Hubs is taking cola by the IV in the family room right now.  I think he's whimpering too.

Your next question is probably "Where are you going next?"

It's a good question.

I'll look forward to finding out the answer myself.

For now, I hope my parents are enjoying living with my slightly nutty family.  I tried to prepare them:

"So, Els is kind of a hypochondriac and you'll hear her complaining about her ailments daily".....  So far she's complained about a numb pinky finger, slightly bent toe, achy kneecap, an eye that 'feels strange', and a mysterious burning sensation in her thigh.

"So, Cadence tends to not focus that well"......  Favorite so far is when I was lecturing her about keeping her back pack and jacket hung on her designated hook and when I took a moment to breath she said, 'Did you know that leather back turtles are the largest reptile in the sea?'.

"So, Joel's mind is always one step ahead of what he's actually doing"....  My dad came to me the other morning and said Joel had left a little surprise in the toilet and my mom had tried to blame him for it.  Ha ha.  I should have let him take the fall.  My reply was, 'I'm pretty sure Joel is already playing a game in the next room by the time he washes his hands.  As far as his brain is concerned, he went potty like 15 minutes ago.'

Jasec, well, there's not much to say other than he's 22 months old now.  He vacillates between absolutely darling and slightly neurotic.  Truth.

Hopefully we'll all come out of this situation alive, well, and still willing to see each other.

As for that kissing thing....I promised not to conceive any babies in my parent's basement.  I feel like it's the least I can do!

Grief Intelligence

Friends,

At the risk of being a downer, I feel compelled to share something with you.  My sister, Camille, posted this article on Facebook today and I loved it.  No, I ADORED it.  It's about the grieving process.

As I've experienced a loss this past year that has changed my life forever, and still has the power to take my breath away with it's pain, I'm so grateful to read this and know that I'm "normal".  Many of the things she mentions in this article I have personally experienced, and am still experiencing: 

"tears, sleepless nights, sorrow and a heartache that knocks you to your knees. It can be hard to concentrate, hard to think clearly, hard to read and easy to forget all the details of life that everyone else seems to remember."

We can't make it through this life without facing grief.  Grief comes in many forms, but someday we will all be touched by the loss of a loved one.

So, whether you're saying goodbye now, have lost someone in the past, or have been fortunate enough to not part with someone yet, I hope you'll read this and take comfort in knowing that the heart's capacity to love is one of our greatest gifts.

Love,
Aspen

Ben and I, Christmas 1982

* * * * *

GRIEF INTELLIGENCE: A PRIMER
by Ashley Davis Bush, LCSW

For the past 25 years, I have worked with thousands of grievers. I have sat with widows and widowers, the young and the old. I have offered tissues to bereaved parents in their inconsolable grief. I have normalized, educated, listened to and championed those grievers who, through tremendous pain, still engaged with life.

In the decades since my book Transcending Loss was published, the grieving process has not changed. As I interact with grievers from around the world, I am reminded of the universality of grief. And though each person has their own journey, still they share many common experiences.

Yet, still, I see and hear so much misinformation and confusion around grief. Principally, this comes from the widely-held myths that grief should be easy, that grief should be short, that grief has closure, that people should get on with their lives unchanged and that ongoing connection with the deceased is somehow pathological.

So, in trying to set the record straight, I'm offering seven principles in this primer on grief intelligence.

Most people don't learn these lessons until life thrusts them onto the roller coaster of major loss. However, if we can get the word out, then perhaps a new generation of individuals will feel more supported and understood when it is their time to grieve.

1. Grief is a normal reaction -- Grief is the natural emotional and physical response to the death of a loved one. Although our society desperately wants to avoid the messiness of deep sorrow, there is no way out except through the pain. Typical numbing techniques such as medications, alcohol and food are only temporary distractions to dull the pain.

Letting oneself grieve by going directly into the pain -- in manageable doses over a long period of time -- is healing. Avoiding the pain simply forces it to go deep into the heart where it subtly affects emotional and physical health.

2. Grief is hard work -- Grief isn't easy and it isn't pretty. It involves tears, sleepless nights, pain, sorrow and a heartache that knocks you to your knees. It can be hard to concentrate, hard to think clearly, hard to read and easy to forget all the details of life that everyone else seems to remember. Grievers frequently feel that they're going crazy and they sometimes wish to die. This doesn't mean that they're actively suicidal, it just means that they're grieving.

3. Grief doesn't offer closure -- Closure is an idea that we like because we want to tie up our emotional messes with a bow and put them in the back of a closet. But grief refuses to play this game. Grief tends towards healing not closure. The funeral can be healing, visiting a gravesite can be healing, performing rituals, writing in journals and making pilgrimages can be personally meaningful and healing. But they will not bring closure. Closure is relevant to business deals but not to the human heart.

4. Grief is lifelong -- Although we all want quick fixes and short-term solutions, grief won't accommodate us. Many people want grief to be over in a few weeks or a few months and certainly within a year. And yet, many grievers know that the second year is actually harder than the first. Why Because the shock has worn off and the reality of the pain has truly sunk in.

I let grievers know that the impact of grief is lifelong just as the influence of love is also lifelong. No matter how many years go by, there will be occasional days when grief bursts through with a certain rawness. There will be days, even decades later, when sadness crosses over like a storm cloud. And likely, every day going forward will involve some memory, some connection to missing the beloved.

5. Grievers need to stay connected to the deceased -- While some might find it odd or uncomfortable to keep talking about a loved one after they have passed, or find it disconcerting to see photographs of those who have died, it is healthy to keep the connection alive. My heart goes out to a generation or more of grievers who were told to cut their ties to their deceased loved ones, to move on, almost as if they had never existed. Such unwitting cruelty! It is important to honor the birthdays and departure days of deceased loved ones. Their physical presence may be gone, but they remain in relationship to the griever in a new way beyond form, a way based in spirit and love.

6. Grievers are changed forever -- Those who expect grievers to eventually get back to their old selves, will be quite disappointed. Grief, like all major life experiences, changes a person irrevocably. People don't remain unchanged after getting an education, getting married, having a baby, getting divorced or changing careers. Grief, too, adds to the compost mixture of life, creating rich and fertile soil. It teaches about living and dying, about pain and love and about impermanence. While some people are changed by grief in a way that makes them bitter and shut down, it is also possible to use grief as a springboard for compassion, wisdom, and open-heartedness.

7. Grievers can choose transcendence -- Transcendence has to do with gaining perspective, seeing in a new way and holding pain in a larger context. Seeing one's grief from a larger perspective allows it to be bearable and gives it meaning. For one, transcendence might mean reaching out to those who suffer. For another, it might mean giving to a cause that will benefit others. Grievers who choose transcendence recognize that they are not alone, that they share a common human condition, and that they are amongst so many who have experienced love and loss. They use their pain in a way that touches others. The pain is still there, of course, but it is transformed.

So I invite you to reflect on these grief principles, how they might be true for you and how they might be true for someone you know and love. Share and share again so that we might spread grief intelligence far and wide. Perhaps we can effect a change so widespread that grievers will know what to expect. Hopefully, we all can be comforted, in small ways, by that knowledge.

Foxy Park City Ladies - Hella Happy

Ladies and Gents,

This blog is struggling.  I believe it cries at night, just waiting and wishing and hoping that I'd have something to share on it's empty pages.  Waiting for the breath of life that my keyboard brings.

Sorry, Blog Dearest, but I've been working on other projects.  One of those projects is building a family.  It takes a lot of work.  Other projects just make me look bad, or instill a false sense of hope in those I tell about them.  So, for now, just know I wish I could visit you more and I miss you too.

In the spirit of taking a break I'm here to report on my annual Park City getaway with my gal pals.  I apologize, because I know for a fact that many of the funny things that happen on this trip won't make you giggle if you don't know my friends.  This post is, in fact, mostly for my friends and I to gobble up the juicy morsels of the weekend after the fact.

I don't know what happens to perfectly respectable mid-30s ladies upon being released in a hotel room for 48 hours, but we like to revert back to the days of our youth.  We stay up way too late, eat lots of junk, giggle and giggle and giggle, play card games, watch music videos on You Tube and just generally devolve.  The bad part about this is the fact that the older we get the harder it's getting to keep from wetting our pants.  Also, the worse our recovery time is getting.  I've been home for 4 days now and I still have a stomach ache.  And I still need a nap.

The weekend was successful.

This year I did actually take a few pictures.  Let us pause in honor of this historical moment.  Really, we can thank our smart phones for the fact that our time was documented for once.

Friday night we busted out of the house in the early afternoon.  I have to say that we love the irony of the fact that we ditched fathers just as babies were waking up from naps.  One husband had injured himself at work that day and as we helped his wife carry her bags to the car we were just smiling and nodding as he told us about it.  Finally he said, "You guys don't really care, do you?"  Ha ha.  Too true.  We left him nursing an achy ankle and high-fived as we laid rubber in the driveway.  'Cause we don't care!

After a bit of a housing fiasco involving many phone calls to the management company, the arrival of two roll away beds and me literally lifting a queen size bed across the room (Yes, Amber had her dainty little hand on the bed attempting to "help me", but she just looked pretty.  The real muscle got the job done) and quickly calling "not it" on sharing a room with Becky we were ready to hit the shops.

* Side note.  Becky now has a c-pap machine and insists her snoring has improved.  As she was relegated to the couch bed in the living room there are no witnesses to testify either way.

Serious shoppers went and did serious shopping.  Britnee, Alison and I did this:

Me, Brit & Al

Saturday we did the Extreme Zip Line at the Olympic Park.  Okay, those of us who wear big girl panties did it.  The rest of them sat in a field of grass and slept.  It was a two hour wait.  Everyone got sunburned.  But the ride was pretty fantastic.  I'll never do it again because of the wait.  Oh, and I appreciate the Park City employee who when Amber asked me if I had any tips for her when it was her turn inserted, "Try not to die!"  Loved the way he instilled confidence in our plummet!

Here is a pic of the four FABULOUSLY BRAVE WOMEN at the bottom of the hill before taking the chair lift up.  We started out above those ramp things and went past were we are standing in this pic.

Amber, Laurie, Me and Alison

I won't bore you with the specifics of the rest of the day.  But I will share with you some things we learned.

* If you tie a twist tie onto your steering wheel you can loop one finger through it in order to drive in a more relaxed manner.  Yes, that extra inch you may have to reach for the steering wheel may be too far.  And yes, she's never had an accident.

* Whales sound sad.

* Breast your cards at all times.  Canasta is a rough and tumble game.

* A certain person isn't going to dress up like a snow princess, despite our best efforts to convince her otherwise.

* You can keep pee in by crossing your legs really hard.  Most of the time!  But no sneezing!

* You can dance while keeping one hand on the table.

* A 44 oz coke and a unisom cancel each other out.  The coke makes you need to get up to go potty all night long, but the unisom makes you dizzy and you run into things... like the glass shower door.

* Roll away beds can be forced to fit almost anywhere.  And yes, there is a real danger of being folded in half.

* Sleeping with your head rammed against a wall makes it easy to hear the ladies chatting in the next room.

* What happens on the mountain stays on the mountain.

* You don't want to stand next to us in a 2 hour line.

* It's fun to all look out a window at a couple having a heated discussion in the parking lot and come up with what they are saying to each other.   As I was typing this I realized that sharing what we made up for their "chat" makes us sound like horribly disgusting people.  (In a clean and honorable way!) But it was funny.

* Half of us would be willing to try peeing in an adult diaper on a road trip.  Half of us refuse.

* We have some interesting taste in music.

*We all know how we became vampires.

I couldn't end this without sending a shout out of love and hope to sweet Tawna's family.  At 2:30 in the morning on Friday night she got a phone call saying her brother had been in an accident and was being life flighted to IMC in Murray.  Becky and Jolene were quick to drive her down to SLC at 2:30 in the a.m. and then come back up to Park City.

Yes, Tawna, we did have fun, but we also prayed for your family at each meal and talked about you all day.

As always, I'm so incredibly grateful for my girlfriends.  Love you all!!!!

To end, I just want to share perhaps the number one thing we learned this weekend:

What the fox says...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jofNR_WkoCE

Soccer Schmoccer

So, it's been a while since I blogged.

Whatever.

Life is busy during the summer with all four kids at home.

Also... having all four kids home all day doesn't really provide me with a lot to laugh about, 'cause I'm usually crying.

I was scrolling through some pictures this afternoon and came across some from Joel's first ever soccer game.  I wasn't there, because {shocker} Jasec had another ear infection and was sick.

Whatever.... {sigh}.

These pictures made me giggle.  I thought I'd make up my own story of how Joel's first soccer game went.  If a picture is worth 1000 words....

I really need to preface this with a little story.  A few months ago I decided maybe Joel should have some social skills.  {Translation:  Please, please, please do ANYTHING but play computer/DS all day long!}

We had a conversation that went like this:

Me:  Joel, what sport would you like to play?
Joel:  What's a sport?
{Crum.... he's more messed up that I realized!}
Me:  It's a game you play with a ball.  Soccer, basketball, football.
Joel:  Why would I wanna do that?

So, when my friend invited Joel to sign up with her son for soccer this fall I decided that I'd better introduce him to sports.  'Cause I want him to have friends.  And I REALLY want him to move out someday and not create a man's gaming cave in my basement where he will have mustache growing competitions with his internet buddies.

Now, enjoy.....

It's 8:15 on a Saturday morning.  I can't quite bring myself to open the blinds yet, 'cause I should still be sleeping.  But Joel looks so handsome in his new uniform.  And so grown up.  He's gonna make me millions! "I like these clothes, Mom!"  I gently remind it's that it's called a uniform and you wear it when you play sports.  I'm not sure if he fully grasps the concept.

  

"Huh, so this is soccer.  I'm unimpressed.  Can someone please explain to me just exactly HOW this is more fun than Mario?"   

"Man, I have worked up some serious thirst sitting on that lawn.  Whew!"

"Seriously, am I the only one here who realizes we've been punked by our parents?"  

"Hey, I just noticed there are girls on our team!  Mom said I looked cute in my uniform.  Strike a pose...  'What's happenin' ladies!' "

"Oh, now I get it.  It's just a big game of follow the leader!  Someone should move that huge net, it's totally in the way!"

The Car Show

A few weeks back my family went to the Bountiful Coats for Kids Car Show.   The show is mainly comprised of old restored and hot rod type cars.  It's really fun to watch.  Hubs and I went with Jasec to watch the parade while my parents drove my brother Ben's truck and my three "older" kids rode along.  It was pretty cool.

Cadence and her parade wave from the back seat

The parade route goes along Main Street to about 400 South and then all the cars flip a "u" and parade back down to the beginning point.  A large oval.

Jasec LOVED it and kept saying "Cahs, Cahs, Cahs" (Cars) the entire time.

One particular car caught our eye.  It was somewhat unexpected and didn't fit in.  However, Hubs and I didn't think too much of it 'cause technically Ben's truck isn't a "classic" car and there aren't rules about that kind of thing.  I don't think there are anyhow.

But, regardless, we did chuckle as this sweet ride went by:

Technically this could be considered a classic,
as it's most assuredly from a "day gone by"....

We went on enjoying our eye candy until that little wagon passed us again.  This time the geriatric couple was gesturing wildly and looking around at all the people lining the street.

Hubs and I began to chuckle.  Could it be possible that this couple did not intend to parade down Main Street but had instead somehow slipped past the guard while out doing errands and ended up being featured in a car show?

Yes, indeed friends, that is EXACTLY what happened.  Because just a short ways from where Hubs and I were standing we saw this:

They got out of that parade and parked in the first open parking lot, all the while gesturing at each other.

He he he.

I'm sure it isn't as funny in the retelling, but while it was happening Hubs and I were busting up and wondering if we were the only one's who saw this little display of geriatric success.

After the parade we walked up and down Main Street where the cars had parked and you could see them up close.  Joely got to try out this sweet ride...

Just before going home we went to see the Burn Out.  This is where any of the hot rods that want to can compete to see who can lay the biggest strip of rubber and make the biggest smoke cloud.  It's pretty cool, and loud.

Some of us were unimpressed.

But, as Ms. Els reminds me often, she's "practically a pre-teen", so it'll be years before she finds anything interesting again.

All in all a lovely evening.

Hopefully next year we can see our geriatric champions again... with FLAMES painted on their wagon!

Blushing...

Welcome to the grand month of July!  This is the month of my birth, which makes me partial to it.  Also, I thoroughly enjoy celebrating 2 holidays AND my wedding anniversary.  It's a good month.

Last week I made the trek down to visit my sisters in St. George.  My mom came along with me.  I can't really say she was my navigator - because she is seriously challenged in this area (perhaps I could dedicate a blog posting to this some day!).  I would, however, cheerfully refer to her as my trip nanny.  She graciously handled all kid needs while I drove.  No wonder The Hubs always wants to be the driver on road trips.  The driver seat is a pretty cushy place to be!

The wise person would suggest trips to St. George be limited to the months of October through April.

I've never professed to be wise.

It got up to 112 degrees while we were walking around the temple grounds.  'Cause we're smart like that.  With any luck I lost 5 pounds of water weight while there.  I refuse to weigh myself and find out.

Most of the grand kids at the temple.

Anyhow, one night when us oldies managed to stay up past 9:30, my sister Em was kind enough to remind me of an embarrassing moment I had in the early days of my marriage.

I decided that maybe I should dedicate a few blog posts to the highlights of embarrassment in my life.  Emily and Mom were totally on board with that.  Even though most of my dear readers probably already know these stories, they are classic enough to get a chuckle on the retelling.

Today's Tale:

Tippy Chairs and Straight Faces.

At one point in my illustrious career I was the receptionist / sales processing/ shipping invoice person for an obviously small company.  My desk was at the front of the building, where visitors to the "store" would be greeted by me.  However, it was also up against a wall so that I could shove shipping invoices through the wall to the warehouse.

I took the liberty of drawing this super fabulous picture below to give you a bird's eye view and help you fully visualize the story.

Please take a moment to ooh and aah over this artistic rendering.  Don't worry, I know there's no money in selling kindergarten level artwork as an adult!

One day a coworker's husband came in to take her to lunch.  He came quietly in the front doors and walked up to the counter top on my right, where he proceeded to lean.

All the other employees worked behind the wall that I faced while working on my PC so after smiling at him, 'cause I am FRIENDLY, I called his wife over the sweet loud speaker system that I had total control over.  We waited a few minutes while the only sound was my computer keyboard.  She didn't appear.  I called again over the speakers.

Please keep in mind that he hadn't said a word to me yet.  I just recognized him from pictures she'd shown me.

I kept cheerfully clicking on my keyboard.  No coworker.

Finally I glanced at him and said, "Where could she be?  Is she coming yet?"

Then I made the fatal mistake that led to the blushing.  I rolled my chair backwards a bit and leaned back to try to see both over the counter top and past the wall.

The only thing I saw was the sight of my feet flying up over my head as my desk chair tipped completely over backwards.

OH, friends, we aren't done there.

As if that weren't bad enough, I had been leaning to my right at the same time, so I was shot off to the right and somehow miraculously fell under the counter top shelves.  I landed on the floor, facing the front side of the counter top, lying on my right side.

Still more, people....

Somehow my chair landed directly behind me in a way that had me trapped between my chair and the counter top facade.  Under a shelf.

I started laughing.

He didn't.

I tried to get out but I was kind of wedged.

He didn't come around to offer assistance.

I ended up kicking the chair donkey-style out of my way so that I could then scoot out from under the counter, still on my side, shuffling backwards like a little worm, before finally gaining freedom.

Still nary a chuckle, word or offer of help from the husband.

I laid there for a minute laughing hysterically and thinking he must have left by now or else I'd have heard some sound from him.

I stood up and was shocked to see him still standing there, no sign of his wife, him just staring at me.  I started blushing like crazy and kind of giggling.  I'm sure I said something about a "wild ride".

His response to all this?

He raised his eyebrow at me.

With disdain.

I was so humiliated.

While blushing and feeling a little shaky I had to wrestle my desk chair back up and I try to gracefully sit back down.  I then silently got back to work on my computer.

This is when coworker wifey finally showed up and they left for lunch.

I told her the story later and she thought it was strange that he didn't laugh or offer to help me.

I think he was a robot alien sent from another planet to destroy my pride.

Some Randomness

Friends,

Never fear.  I am indeed alive.

I regret that it's been so long since I've had a chance to blog, but I've been so busy trying out adulthood that I haven't had a chance to sit down and write.  Turns out being an adult is a major bummer, so here I am.

We've been pretty busy so far this summer.

First week of summer vacation I took off to Girl's Camp with my ward.  Yes, I work with the young women.  I, too, often question my suitability as a role model for youth, but we laugh a lot and hopefully they'll at least come away knowing that even though things can go down the crap shoot with crisco faster than you believe, there is always something worth smiling about.  I loved camp.  I think it may have saved my life.

The Leader's Posse at camp

Directly following camp, my sweet Cadie Lou broke her arm.

Surprise... she chose pink!

The next day Ms. Els had 4 teeth extracted.

Trying to keep a stiff upper lip

I'll let you guess who handled things better.  And I'll also let you guess which one said to me, "It's not MY fault I cry.  I just feel the emotion of the situation!"

This past Saturday morning The Hubs and I had a long financial discussion and decided to make an effort to get ourselves in better financial order.  This is hard for me... mostly 'cause I don't care about banks.  They're totally boring and dream-killers.  I just want to order books on Amazon and eat shakes from DQ and assume that there is money available for me to do those things.  I don't ask for much.

The Hubs believes my attitude may eventually lead us to a place of financial ruin wherein we find ourselves literally living in our van down by the river.

I say, "Don't sweat the small stuff.  My parents have a basketball court where we can park our van!"

He never laughs at these things.

We decided to be grownups.  (Incidentally, I just realized that the first syllable in the word grownups is "GROAN".....)  After talking about areas where we can skim some cream off the top and put that money to better use in paying off student loans...blah, blah, blah... we decided to trade in our van for a more "modest" model.

I say this just makes our future lifestyle as van dwellers slightly less comfy.  But I'm all for keeping my future bright.  So I agreed.

Plus my new van is blue.  Which is sweet.

Blue Steel

Now I find myself avoiding packing for a trip down to St. George to see my sisters.  Another GROAN-up activity is packing bags for children who are doing nothing but watching My Little Pony and eating DQ sundaes.  It's good to be my kid.

So, friends, now you're caught up on the happenings at our house.  You can see why I'm taking a break out to blog.  Or maybe you can't.  Maybe you realize it's nothing but a time waster....

Wait!  I have a sundae waiting in the freezer for me.

Later Gators!

The Rage Fest

Friends,

I have to honestly say that I'm not sure I can do this story justice on the pages of my blog.  I'm not sure my words can paint a vivid enough picture.  I think this is one of those stories where you need to see my hand gestures as I reenact the violence of the scene.  You need to hear my tone of voice as I describe my level of angst.

The other night I was telling my Mom this story while gesturing wildly during my reenacting.  And at the end of it we were laughing at the absurdity of it all.  I realized that I wasn't sure I'd shared this story with my friends.  I shot off a quick email to my DC ladies and it turns out that some of them do have a vague recollection of this occurrence.  But they wanted a refresher.  I promised to share it with them at our next monthly dinner.

However, after thinking about it, I decided that I want this story written down because despite the horror of what I'm about to share with you, I am pretty dang proud of myself.  I may be feisty and sassy, but that's usually where I draw the line.  I don't like real fights.  They make me edgy and I tend to just walk away.

But one day, in 9th grade, I didn't walk away.  No, friends, I faced the beast head-on.  And I lived to tell about it.

I don't really remember why I didn't like *Eric (obviously NOT his name!) before 9th grade.  I just remember that I didn't.  At all.  By some crazy twist of fate in my 9th grade year I ended up having 5 of the 7 classes with Eric.  I was devastated. To add insult to injury, we also lockered next to each other.  {SIGH!}

I also can't really give you a specific example of something Eric did to make me angry.  I just remember that I had come to deeply hate him.  I remember avoiding the locker when he'd be around because he'd kind of taunt me and pick at me.

One day, Eric pushed me too far.  We were both at our lockers getting out our books for science class - Mr. McClurg for you CJH alumni - and he'd been doing his taunting thing.

Now, I need you to understand that in 9th grade I think I'd finally attained my full height of 5 ft 4 in.  But my weight was significantly lower than it is now.  Like, TONS lower.  Eric was much larger than me.  In my mind's eye I remember him being one of the bigger guys in school.  I admit that may  not be the case.  But he seemed huge to me.

Anyhow, I had my science book in my hand and Eric bent down to a kind of squatting position to get something out of the bottom of his locker.  He'd said something that had me glaring at his back.  And I snapped.

I still distinctly remember lifting my science book above my head, holding it tightly in both hands, and swinging down with all my might until it connected with the back of his head.  As you can imagine, the force of that blow knocked him off balance and started him falling into his locker.  But I "helped" him along by kicking him in the - ahem - buttocks.

When Eric was fully head first into his locker - bum sticking in the air, feet still on the floor - I let go of my book with one hand, grabbed his locker door and began slamming it into his side.  Repeatedly.

As he began to scramble back out of the locker I kept slamming the door using my hand, but then I added my foot to the scuffle.  Hand on the top of the locker, foot down at the bottom of the locker.  Eventually he got out enough that my foot and hand were slamming the locker door right into the side of his head.

Repeatedly.

I was a raging lunatic.

He finally managed to get to a position where he was able to put a hand out and stop the beating.  Then he  looked me in the eye.

Friends, I saw death in that glance.

I immediately released the locker and began running as fast as my legs could carry me down the hall, hugging my science book to my chest, with my backpack slamming against my bum.

Eric roared to his feet and gave chase.  At one point I remember looking back and seeing him with his science book raised above his head, set on retribution.

This was between classes, so the hallways were full.  But students heard his raging from a ways away and parted to let us through.  However, I do have to wonder why no one tried to stop him from killing me.

Due to the speed with which we'd been flying through the hallways, we made it to science before pretty much anyone else, including the teacher.  Once in the classroom we began zig zagging around desks, playing cat and mouse.  I was the mouse.  I'd been the cat.  It was a cruel twist of fate.

I just remember him screaming at me, and his face was all red, carrying that book around like an instrument of torture.

Finally a couple guys who I was friends (ish) with came in and told Eric that you can't hit girls.  (About time, fellas!)  Eric said something about me attacking him first.  But they didn't really care.  They kept him away from me until the teacher came in and told us to take our seats.

The funny thing is that I don't remember anything after that.  Obviously the science class was of no consequence.  The only thing I remember about that class is losing my earring back one day.

I don't even remember how Eric and I went forward from that moment.  But I do know that he didn't give me guff any more.  And we kind of just avoided each other.

You know, maybe the reason I walk away from fights is because on that day, so long ago, I saw a shadow of the violent beast I could become if I let the rage free.  So, you're welcome world.  I'm really doing you a favor by keeping her sedated with chocolate.

However, don't push your luck!

Then & Now

I'm writing this post for completely selfish purposes.

See, I was attempting to write down some information the other day while on the phone and couldn't - for the life of me - find a pen with any ink or a pencil with a sharpened tip.  I thought to myself, "I USED to have plenty of pens and pencils neatly organized next to the phone.  That was then, and this is now..."

It got me thinking about how much my life has changed in the 9 1/2 years I've been a mother.  And in a spurt of bad attitude I started making a mental list of all the things that I miss from my pre-parenthood years.

There are a lot of things on that list.  I'm sorry, but it's true. 

It wasn't exactly making me bask in the joy of my calling as mother.

The "nows" kinda seem like a bummer when compared to the "thens" of life.  Lots of sacrifices, tears and prayers, and feeling in over my head as I try to raise 4 children.

But that's the crazy thing about being a parent.  You see those little faces, and well....

Then I had:

Plenty of computer paper

Pens and Markers with ink

Sharp, non-sticky scissors

Staples in the stapler

Now I have:

Reams of paper with one small picture drawn in  the middle

Dry pens and markers, broken pencils

Dull scissors with yogurt smears

Staplers stuck in my feet rather than in the stapler

And them

Then I had: 

Clean windows, mirrors and sliding doors

Toothpaste free sinks and counter tops

Plenty of toilet paper

Towels hung on their hooks

Now I have:

Finger prints, lick marks and crayon art on all my glass

Blue and red toothpaste drizzles 

Empty toilet paper rolls

Crumpled towels on the floor

And them

Then I had:

Salmon and steak dinners

Lindt truffles

Capitol Theatre

Olive Garden

Now I have:

Macaroni and cheese and hot dogs

Lindt truffles still... but eaten in the privacy of my locked bathroom!

Netflix and Redbox

McDonalds

And them

Then I had:

Mesquite and Las Vegas

New Orleans

Seattle

Jackson Hole

Moab, Moab, Moab...

Now I have:

The elementary school

Smoot and Founders Parks

Hogle Zoo

Dreams of Moab...

And a family.

So future Aspen, when the days are hard, the dishes are piling up, the garbage is stinking up the place and the phone won't stop ringing, read this post.  And bask in the "now". 

Paper Saves Lives

So I try to do my best to not kill off Mother Earth.  I recycle - even if my kids occasionally throw some food in the little white bin.  I fully support other people riding bikes or walking rather than driving.  I try to reuse... stuff.  Oh, oh, and I never litter!

But I had a little epiphany this past week.  See, it was a busy week with field trips and school programs and ear infections.  Typical family life, really.  So I decided that something had to give.  And it was going to be dishes.

I busted out the paper plates, plastic utensils and cups.  I only ran the dishwasher when absolutely necessary.  (Translation:  When some rogue family member thought they were allowed to use a dish or drink from a cup during what was clearly a paper week!!  Get with the program people!)

As I threw away paper plate after paper plate smeared with pbj, ketchup, marinara etc...

* because you can't recycle it if there's food on it... which makes NO sense!  I'm not going to wash the paper just to recycle it.  The entire point of me using paper is to avoid washing.  Honestly..... *

I had little pangs of guilt over how much waste I was creating.  I was adding to the wasteland of an earth that my poor children and grandchildren will have to inhabit.

And then it hit me... paper saves lives!

See, 'cause this past week if I'd have had to add dishes to my list of things to do I would have snapped and gone all Wolverine on the kidlets.  And they maybe wouldn't have lived through all the growling and slashing and muscle flexing.  And if they're dead than it really doesn't matter what the state of the earth is.

Are you with me?

So, really, I used paper, it kept them alive, and now thanks to my sacrifice they will live to enjoy the earth for years to come.

Someday, when I'm sitting in their beautiful new home, I will look back at this past week and be grateful that I used paper and saved lives.  And I'll never tell them that we're sitting on the front porch of an old landfill.