Our House, In the Middle of Our Street...

Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of--Benjamin Franklin. I adore clocks--just ask Shayne, if you do not believe. A blank space on a wall? It begs for a clock. It doesn't matter if they work or not (and I have plenty of those, again, defer to Shayne). At least, only one has to work to keep us functioning in tandem with the rest of society. And, even then, I usually set it forward. Why? I don't have a good answer for that. I just do. As a child, I remember curling up on our blue love seat in the living room. Facing south, the afternoon sun streamed in through a large window and I would bask in the opportunity to take a long nap. And what was the last remnant of consciousness I processed? The ticking of a clock. That clock lingers in my memories as one of the many patchwork pieces constructing the metaphor for my childhood. I've always been fascinated by the concept of time and the inability we have to capture one moment, hoping to soak up every bit of possible emotion it has to offer. In the last year, more than ever before in my life, I have lost my ability to remember so many of those moments. I don't know the cause--I ponder over it often and have many a quick quip for justifying my lack of memory clarity. I hope it is not permanent. At least, I tell myself it will only last as long as I am a strung-out mother/wife/daughter. You know, until that day when I have nothing more in my life titled "stress." I pray some of those memories aren't gone forever--they were never long enough to begin with, some of them. As I realize today the way our lives morphed so vehemently three years ago--most likely at this very moment in time, then. We turned onto a street called Coventry and knew we had found home. It was the beginning of a dream come true for me. The chance to come back to where I found the most peace, to be surrounded by the mountains I adore and the people I love most. Not a day passes, not a moment of time slips away that I do not carry in my heart a constant utterance of gratitude to the Lord for giving me each moment here, and a prayer for its continuance...

See that Girl, Watch that Scene, Dig in the Dancing Queen!

You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life--see that girl, watch that scene, dig in the dancing queen! Flashback--a tiny little girl with a braided bun a top her head, royal blue puffy dress with ribbons trailing away from the bodice while gliding across the stage to the sweet tune, "Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens." My heart melted...and I cried! My sweet Natasha on stage for the very first time--a debut never to be repeated but often recreated with each passing year. Today--a beautiful, confident 11-year-old surrounded by giggling friends all dressed in black, complete with a sassy red tie to match the lips. Last Saturday, March 21, marked the beginning of Tasha's third year of dance competitions. The results? For the first time ever, the Extreme Team placed first in three dances (Competition Jazz, Competition Lyrical, and Pro Team Lyrical) and second place in Pro Team Jazz! I was so very proud of our little Dancing Queen! Every time she is on stage, I get goosebumps and butterflies in my stomach. I love to watch her dance--especially in lyrical. She has a natural grace that was never mine to enjoy and I adore how easily she moves across the floor. Love you Tash, and so proud of your accomplishments!

Might as well Jump! Go ahead, Jump!!

"I get up, and nothing gets me down.

You got it tough. I've seen the toughest around.

And I know, baby, just how you feel.

You've got to roll with the punches to get to whats real...

Oh can't you see what I mean?"

--Van Halen

(Jumping cast: Fynnley & Dane and their best friends, Jackson & Portia Thacker)

'Cause I'm a Blond (yeah, yeah, yeah)...

Nothing ruins this girl's day more than Mom pulling out the camera! She hates 'photo shoots'. While I run around like a circus clown trying anything I can think of to make her smile, she poses happily for shots one through three, then it's downhill from there. Who needs the gym? All I have to do is start the morning trying to capture my child on film and I work up a serious sweat. But when the stars in the universe magically align at the exact same moment my shutter speed is fast enough--magic! Ah, it's a crazy quest...

I've Been Dreaming of a True Love's Kiss

Hard to imagine what goes on in the mind of a 2-year-old. Is she yearning for Spring to come? Does she dream of what her greatest talent might be when she grows up? Is she pondering over the beauties of the day? Hmpf...doubt it! More than likely, Dora the Explorer is searching for Boots the Monkey for the 5th time this morning in between demands for a fruit snack and a milk sippy. No need for growing up today...

You Say It's Your Birthday

Has it seriously been 11 years since I first held that gorgeous, hot pink, wide-eyed bundle in my arms for the first time? I don't think I'm quite ready to let go of the little girl that is quickly transforming into such a great little lady. I remember so clearly my cherubic two-year-old Tashee sharing words of wisdom and plenty of "nices" (as we call them) as the only child of her new mommy and daddy. I have tried to treasure every day of this child's life as I've felt from the very beginning she is one special spirit. Natasha, we adore you and look forward to sharing every year to come!

Sure signs that you are 11:

--You want to celebrate your birthday at Cheesecake Factory with your two best friends (Kameron Contino and Kaite Guiver)

--You are as caught up in the tween adoration of HSM as the rest of the tween female world

--You still want to collect Littlest Pet Shop figures as gifts instead of "older girl" trinkets

--The only other gifts you want for your birthday are clothes (okay, sign you are moving on from "little girl" trinkets!)

--You get to go see "Wicked" with Mom and Dad in April as a huge birthday surprise!

--We had to attend the Maturation Clinic six days after your birthday...good times!

HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! We love you, baby!

Oo-wha, Oo-wha, Cool, Cool, Kitty...

I am not a pet person. I realized this one day in high school when that dang, ratty cat, Maji, was asleep on my bed instead of where she usually napped on Kathy's bed! I hated that cat (sorry Kath and John--I know she was your treasure). So when Shayne conned me into a spur-of-the-moment kitten purchase when we were first married, I made a grave effort to bury my anti-pet feelings for the good of our marriage. But "Satan-Key" was a feline force to be reckoned with (she even scared the kitty-loving Kathy and John!) After dumping that cat on some naive teenagers, I vowed never again! But, several years later, in an attempt to win some serious grandparent points, Brenda decided to buy our children a beta fish (I was out of the country, by the way!) We went through several versions (unbeknownst to our kids) of "Rainbow" (and his progenitor, "Rainbro"), before it experienced it's final, watery grave (hey, we honored it with a good, respectful flush!) I declared at that funeral, 'No more pets!' Little did I know, I already had another waiting in the wings. For, you see, my dear, little Fynnley believes herself to be a cat. It's been quite a few mewing months now since we saw the first transformation from human baby to little kitty. When she falls, she meows. When she wakes up in the night, she cries out meows. When she wants to snuggle, she nestles up to us and meows (which she is currently doing as I write this!) And what must accompany her to bed every night? Of course, her stuffed kitties. This morning I asked her if she was my little girl and she matter-of-factly replied, "No, I Mommy Cat!" Oh well, at least she doesn't require a litter box...

Do You Love Me?

Dane is a picker...it's true. It causes me to experience great stress, high blood-pressure and sore vocal cords. But it won't be relieved by handing him a mere tissue. For, unlike many 5-year-old boys, he's not a picker of the nose; he's a picker of his sister! The louder she screams, the more he "picks." The more riled up he can make her, the bigger his smile becomes. And it makes me nuts! Natasha never picked on Connor. Connor never picked on Dane. But Dane LOVES to pick on Fynnley. Too bad for me that face of his is so darn cute. It gets him out of "picker" time-out way too often! (But, please, Dane, can you just leave her alone for two seconds???)

I'm Too Sexy For My Shirt...

I adore fashion--clothes, shoes, handbags, accessories...love it all! And, according to these shots, that gene has obviously been passed along to my little diva! I can hardly resist her beautiful soft skin, gorgeous blue eyes and wispy baby hair. Hope Dad has enough money to support all of his divas' love for style!

If I Were King of the Forrrrrest...

From day one as a mother, my children have been subjected (pun intended) to my camera! Back in the day, it was a really bad camera. Today, I now own a camera that is way too smart for the likes of me. Nonetheless, smile they will and smile they must (or at least I'll die trying!) And 'though I don't intend to load down this blog with the thousands of digital pictures I have taken and continue to shoot, some of my favorites will surely be posted for all to enjoy (or, maybe, just for me to feel like I can justify what I spent on that new camera...) Today, King Dane and Queen Fynnley were coiffed by Natasha, the royal stylist, and Connor, the court jester! Love when they play with such imagination!

I Love to See the Temple

I wasn't sure how well taking all four kids to the Draper Temple open house was going to unfold. But, I was pleasantly surprised to see their enthusiasm for everything from being transported by bus to the temple, to seeing the amazing oxen-laden font, to sheer giddiness at the twinkly chandeliers! Shayne and I loved the painted rooms and much use of beautiful woods. And neither Dane nor Connor even tried to jump into the font water! The kids loved seeing the temple picture gallery afterwards and reminiscing over all the temples we have taken them to in their lifetimes (Salt Lake City, Provo, Washington, D.C., Portland, St. George, San Diego and Mount Timpanogos). In fact, Shayne still claims Washington, D.C. is the only true temple on earth! We are truly grateful for temples so close to us and so glad we got to share this opportunity with our little ones.