The Trail

Our town is filled with walking trails. There are so many trees out here, and tons of trails meandering through them. It still amazes me how close we are to huge, tall, thick trees. And it amazes me even more that just a short distance through these huge, tall, thick trees, there is water. Beautful Pacific ocean water.

One trail near our house leads right to Puget Sound. Once you jump the fence, duck under the barb wire, walk about 2 miles in muddy forest along a creek, scoot sideways through the chain linked gate, and walk through a tunnel where the train crosses above, you're there.

Joe and I have been on this trail a couple times about a year ago. We've been waiting for a day when the weather was nice so we could go again. Yesterday was that day. With family in town, we were eager to get out and let the girls freely explore. We threw the girls in their grubby clothes, barely ran a comb through their hair and set out for our adventure.

The walk was so peaceful and enjoyable. The girls ran ahead then back to us, then ahead again. They found sticks and water to play in. Butterflies and frogs. The fresh air and no rules was nice for everyone.

Once we made it to the water, I realized I forget how beautiful that beach was. It made me wish I had made my girls wear their Sunday best while walking, just so they wouldn't look like ragamuffins in the pictures. But then again, it wouldn't have been as much fun. The mud on their knees shows that they fell while laughing and running at the same time. The water splashes on their shirts shows that their walking sticks were really great paddles to splash the dirty, cold water on themselves with. And their hair in their faces, well, that just means that I was lazy.

The beach was empty and quiet. I love beaches with weathered wood all around. It's rustic and old feeling and it makes me happy. The sun was out and the crabs were plentiful. We found hundreds and hundreds of them. We found snails and mussels and great sea shells and rocks for our beach jar. We even found this gigantic, beautiful blue piece of glass that had been smoothed by the tides. It's gorgeous. Gabriella calls it her diamond.

It was such a fun outing for everyone involved. Then we made the hike back and eight pair of legs turned into four pairs while all the adults carried four very tired, very heavy girls.

An outing definitely worthy of a repeat on future gorgeous days...but next time, I think I'll comb their hair. Well, maybe.

Pikes Place

It's a given. If you come visit us in Washington, we're taking you to Pikes Place.

Joe's brother, wife and two little girls are visiting for the week, so this weekend we headed to Seattle. I've decided that the only way to get decent weather over here is to have family visit. It was a perfect day for walking the tourist attractions in Seattle.

There is something that I really love about a big city. I love the crowds. I love the fast, busy pace. I love the huge range of people you see. Some are weird yes, mostly harmless, but weird none the less. I love it that my girls hold onto my hand tight, because they too recognize that there are weird people all around. I love all the crazy people with signs on the corners and the people trying to hand you pamphlets. Okay, I don't really love that so much. But I do love the people on sidewalks playing the harmonica with their hat on the floor hoping that you'll drop a dollar in it. There is just something about a big city that I love.

Our trips to Pikes Place are never the same. But as different as they are, there are some things that we always have to do when there. So if you're planning to visit us, or just visit Seattle, here is what your Pikes Place Market experience must include...

1. Daily Dozen Doughnut Company. This is right around the corner from the fish throwing and they are the best mini doughnuts EVER! It isn't the cleanest or safest looking place to buy food and the line is always huge, but it's so worth it. Be sure the guy with the blue Mohawk is working, he's the best.2. Once you have your bag of donuts we head over to the fish market. This is where you get to watch the guys in the orange suits tossing fish and yelling things you don't understand. It's always amusing to see the fake fish fly into the crowd and see people freak out.

3. Near the fish market there is a spot where you find struggling musician trying to earn a buck. This time we saw The Tallboy Band. I love the open guitar in front of them, and the girls get to dance and put some change in the guitar. Always a good time.4. Then you walk the farmers market. Beautiful bouquet of flowers for $5 a bunch. We can't help but buy a tulip. This time Gabs picked a purple one. 5. Then you walk the many many steps down to the piers. We usually eat at a better fish and chips place, but when family is in town, you have to go for the whole package. That is at Ivars Fish and Chips. The seagulls there are waiting for you and will take the food right out of your hand. It's always a hit with the little ones to feed the birds. Gwen had no fear this time and held her little arm up for those big birds to get her french fries. One seagull even got her finger, but she didn't seem to mind. Gabs only wanted to feed her animal cookies to them, for some reason no birds came to her.6. At this point, we usually take a fairy ride over to Bainbridge Island. If you're short on time you can take the water taxi to Alki Beach for only $3 and it's a fast little ride that allows you to see the city sky line from the best perspective in my opinion. 7. After all that, you head back up to the market to buy fresh produce. I love this part! I love all the colors and smell. The produce is beautiful. We walked away this time with grapes and white corn. Boy, was that corn delicious.8. Then of course you go back to the fish and buy fresh King Salmon. Take it home and grill it along with your corn and count that as a good day!

We had such a great time with John, Maria, Anya and Nadia. They loved it too. Maria sees a lot out here that reminds her of New Zealand. We're glad that we have beautiful Seattle to entertain our company with! Who's next?

Really?

If it weren't for the obvious, would you be able to guess which of these pictures was taken by a three year old, and which was taken by a 31 year old? I would have to say that probably the three year old did the better job. At least we're completely in the frame and not cut off.

Want to know why you don't see me in any pictures? Well, here you go. This is why. Joe and I were cracking up looking at these pictures the other night. We were laughing so hard. I told him that I had no choice but to poke fun at him. He said he deserved it.

I have a really hard time handing over the camera to someone else. I like taking the pictures. More than letting go of the camera, I have a really hard time with "posing" for pictures. I like candid shots. I'm always hurrying to get my camera when the girls are being so cute together or when Joe's playing with them. I love a good in-the-moment picture. I rarely take a "say cheese" kind of picture.

But who's hurrying to get the camera when I'm being so cute? OK, not likely being cute, but what about when I'm playing with the girls? I can't go get it. I'm suppose to be in the picture. All the girls will know about me from pictures is that I can pose and smile. They won't see my personality. Personality like the ones I try so desperately to capture every day of them. They won't see what I look like when I laugh, or see how often I kiss them.

I guess that is all okay though, because they'll see these pictures that their dad took and they'll know that he was crazy. And hopefully they'll laugh like we did. They'll at least see what I look like when I smile. And really, that is mostly what I do when I'm with my cute kids anyway...smile.

Maybe, hopefully, by the time Gabs is 6 and can actually hold my camera by herself I'll be in a few more candid shots. Until then, although I whole heartily love him, it's obvious I can't rely on Joe.

Well, maybe for just one...

Fashion Show

I knew as soon as I said it, I shouldn't have. You know when you're in the middle of saying something and you think "I should really stop. This is not a good idea. I know better." Well, I said it.

I got as far as "fash" and knew I was in trouble. Yup, I made the mistake and suggested we have a "fashion show" to Gabriella the other day. What was I thinking introducing this already obsessed, addicted, dress-up diva to the idea of fashion shows? What have we been doing every day straight since then? Having millions of fashions shows.

Don't get me wrong, I think fashions shows are great. I had fashions shows with my sisters clear into high school it seemed. Every new school year, just before the first day of school, we would try on all the new school clothes we had gotten over the summer and decide what to wear each day for the first week of school. We would run downstairs to show my mom and dad, and they would politely smile and tell us we looked great. Then we'd dash back up stairs for a quick change and run back down again. I'm sure they thought we were crazy, but we loved it. Fashion shows are great. But when the cat is away, the mice will play.

The other night I was gone and Joe was home with the girls. Turns out when Joe's the one sponsoring the fashion show, it's way better. He told me after I got home that Gabriella kept telling him that she wanted to have a fashion show. And here's where the better parent thing comes in. Instead of getting down the girls dress up box like I always do, he got out my jewelry and they got to wear bracelets as earrings and such.

They must have had a ball, because the first thing the next morning, Gabs immediately told me all about their fashion show. She also kept asking for a certain pair of my Sunday shoes...ones really high in the closet. Apparently, my jewelry wasn't the only fun of the night. It's true, Joe is definitely the better parent.

After days and days of begging, yesterday I just gave in. It was snowing outside and we weren't going anywhere. I had given up. I gave the girls free reign of my jewelry. It's only the cheap $7 stuff anyway. And what's a few passes down the hallway catwalk in my Sunday shoes? The carpet needs cleaning anyway. Why not get down my grandma's old hats she sent? She would be tickled to know they were used in an ever important fashion show. And what kind of mother am I to display my moms old Sunday School gloves on the girls dresser and never let them touch them? Today, it was all fair game.

We sent Joe out of the bedroom and I helped the girls get dressed. Whatever they wanted, they could have. They dressed themselves however they wanted. I was only there to assist them. I was surprised, Gabriella showed some restraint on the jewelry and only picked matching pieces. But not Gwen. Oh my Gwen Gwen. She quickly turned into Mr. T and had every piece of jewelry she could find around her neck.

Gabs came out of the room beaming for Joe. She made him "cheer" for her as she and Gwen took turns walking up and down the hall on the so-called catwalk. They worked that catwalk for a good 30 minutes. And Joe politely smiled. I'm sure all the while thinking they were as crazy as their mother.

I had to smile too. It was the first of many fashion shows to come over the years. One day, I know I'll be sad that they won't be wearing my clothes, but their own grown clothes that they actually fit into. So here's to many, many more fashions shows.

Sidenote to my love Joe: Keep smiling babe. It's only just begun. It's only just begun.

Hypochondriac

When I was little, there were many a times I was sure I was dying from something. Sometimes I wasn't dying. I was just deformed. I hope I wasn't the only one. At some point, didn't you think you had some horrible rare disease that you were dying from?

I thought that I literally had a box in my throat that was filled with "voice". If I talked too much, I would run out of "voice". My box would be empty and I wouldn't be able to speak anymore-until the next morning of course when my voice box would fill up on more "voice" in the middle of the night while I slept. Unfortunately for my parents and siblings, this theory didn't keep me from talking constantly. Shocking that I never really ran out of voice!

And of course, don't all skinny girls think that their wrist and ankles protruding through their skin ridiculously far are deformed or extra bones that shouldn't be there at all? Just the other day Gwen was trying to push my ankle in with her pointer finger while saying "yucky." Okay, so maybe I am still self-conscious about my super skinny limbs.

But the worst of all was when I was little and saw myself swallow while looking in the bathroom mirror. I sat in the bathroom shocked. Wondering, why my throat made that weird up-down movement when I swallowed. I would put my hand over my throat and swallow again and feel my throat go in then out. It repulsed me. I was sure then and there that I was going to die from a deformed throat.

The other day when Gabriella came to me telling me there was something really wrong, I was quite worried. She looked serious and she had a concerned look on her face.

She said "Mommy I don't feel right. I think I need medicine."

I said, "Gabs what's the matter?"

Then she hiccuped and said, "My feelings hurt from hiccups."

She thought her hiccups were an illness. And that made her sad. It made me feel normal. At least I'm not the only one who got scared by perfectly normal things.

But today, I wasn't prepared for what unfolded. Ever since Gwen broke her arm, every minor scratch or scrap is a big deal needing bandages and first aid. What was once a bruise is now "broken." Well, today while Gwen was napping, we were outside. Gabriella bumped her head while playing...a very soft, barely any impact kind of bump. She told me that her head was broken and that she needed a bandage. She ran inside. I waited outside. Minutes later she came back all bandaged up.

Yes, that would be a 5T size sticker from some new pants. Apparently, that bandage made her feel all better.

So, if for any reason you don't see us or hear from us in awhile, it's probably because we're dying from hiccups, or we've broken our heads.

The "Haze"

We had been checking the bloom updates for about a week. Hoping and praying the tulips had bloomed. Finally on Friday, some good news. There was a "haze" of color on several fields.

My mom flew in on Wednesday to spend the week with us and visit the Tulip Festival that we raved about last year. Why wasn't Mother Nature on our side? Why did it snow and freeze just two weeks before? Why weren't the tulips in bloom yet?

When we read on Friday about the haze of color at the tulip fields and that we would be experiencing 70 degree weather, we decided we still needed to head north. We visited a garden filled with a variety of flowers and saw fields and fields of spectacular daffodils. We also saw the "haze" that will soon to be miles and miles of beautiful fields of colorful tulips. Yes, we were disappointed that we weren't able to deliver a breathtaking experience for my mom, but the day had only just begun.

The weather was unbelievable...dare I say hot even? We decided that we would drive down Whidby Island for a change of scenery, and boy am I glad we did. We drove over Deception Pass and the view was amazing. One of the best views I've ever seen here in Washington. It was a site unlike any other. The bridge was unbelievable. Even with my fear of bridges, I was in awe at the grand structure. It was gigantic. Boy, would I like to meet the guys who built that! The water raced down below like a river, yet it was so wide and deep. And the color! The water was this remarkable green color! I really can't say enough about it. If you live here and have never seen it, you must go!

After our drive down Whidby, we caught the ferry back over to the main land. I am well on my way to reaching my goal of riding all the Washington Ferries. This was a quick little 15 minute ride, but all ferries are lovely and the experience is one I'll miss when we live this unique state.

As we drove home we decided no trip would be complete without a stop for fish and chips on the pier at the Seattle waterfront. We stopped again at our favorite spot and enjoyed the scenery and many seagulls. Gabriella flapped around like a bird forcing my mom to feed her crackers, while Gwen's lip quivered everytime a real seagull swooped in close. Those seagulls don't fool around. They are there to eat and you better have food ready for them. It was a wonderful way to end our long day of travels.

As we were walking back to the car Gabriella noticed a horse and carriage. She dug down deep into her pocket and pulled out the .61 cents she had been carrying around all day. She was hoping to buy a snack on the ferry, but everything was .75 cents. She wanted to help pay for dinner, but Joe took care of that meal for her. She wondered now if that money burning a hole in her pocket would buy her a ride on the huge Clydesdale she had fallen in love with. I felt so bad telling her again that .61 cents wasn't nearly enough. But I did tell her that I bet she had enough to pet him. We walked over and she was able to pet "Comet" and even feed him a carrot. She was in heaven. I wanted to run from the gigantic thing, but she would have marveled all night long. It was the highlight of her trip. I think one of these days we'll have to treat her to a carriage ride. That would be so fun.

It was a fabulous day. I went to bed thinking last night, just how grateful I am to be able to experience new areas and see such breathtaking scenery. It's amazing the beauty that is around us. Could it be that I felt so grateful because the sun was out the entire day without an ounce of rain? Probably. But mostly I was so happy to spend such a perfect day with my family and mom... haze and all.

The Beach

Well, does it qualify as a beach if there is no sand, no waves, or no surfers?

Whatever. It's as close to a beach as I'm going to get for awhile, so I'm calling it a beach. We did have sun however, so that about made up for the lack of everything else.

Last week we had a few gorgeous days (i.e. only a little rain in the morning, temperatures that soared clear to 59 degrees, and a fairly cloudless sky). There's this little beach that I love to go to out here. It's close by, deserted, and most importantly, extremely peaceful. I love the serene, calm feeling I get at a quiet beach. I knew that this day I would have to take the girls to the beach. My plan was to go the last nice day we had...the day Gwen broke her arm, so I've been dying to spend a few hours here for several weeks.

This so-called beach is actually on Puget Sound and was once a Marina to a town I absolutely love out here. There is no sand. Only millions of little rocks. The water is freezing. The only waves you get are little ripples from Ferries going back and forth to the near by island. You won't see any surfers. Just seals. There are seagulls though, so that helps me feel right at home.

When we first moved here we were driving around this little town and it instantly reminded me of San Clemente. There are train tracks that run right along the water. Just like on San Clemente beaches you hear the train whistle before you even see the train coming. At our new found beach, we hurry to run up the stairs onto the walkway above the tracks. Then you get to watch the train race down below. It's fun to try to count the train cars like we would on long rode trips to Utah when the train is speeding by under your feet. Gabriella likes to look for the red train cars...there are usually too many to count.

This great little place reminds me of the Huntington Harbor Bay too. It is easy to let the girls walk down by the water because there were no waves going in and out. They sat and played in the rocks, and I had no worries about them being washed away. Granted, rocks are a little tougher to make a castle out of, but they didn't seem to mind.

Joe was able to go with us on this evening and it was so enjoyable watching him skip rocks with Gabriella and throw rocks with Gwen. Gabs found a collection of what she insisted were pink rocks. And Gwen held very tightly onto two prized rocks that every once in awhile she would put near her mouth and say "yum, yum, yum." I don't know what she thought they were, but she thought she was a riot.

Being at this beach just reminded me how much I love the water. Joe always talks about missing the mountains of Utah. I obviously don't get that. I've never lived near mountains. But, at least now, I understand. I understand, because I'm desperate to be near the ocean. I feel at home when I'm near it. I'm so glad we live here where I can go to this beach and feel those feelings I did as a girl.

I very much look forward to many more walks on the beach, and picnics in the sand. Well, picnics in the rocks. But I'll take it. Rocks will definitely do! And hopefully one day soon, we'll actually be in our swimsuits!

Just The Two Of Us

When Gabs was a little baby, someone told me that I would never be able to spend that amount of one on one time with any of my other babies. There is only ever one "only child" she told me, your first. After that, the luxury is gone.

That devastated me. I didn't believe it. I thought she was wrong. I would be able to spend the same amount of one on one time with all my children. It was a priority and I would make it happen.

Well, I was wrong. I can't seem to do it. No matter how much I wish I could spend that same one on one time with Gwen, it's impossible. Gwen hasn't gotten my undivided attention her whole life. She hardly gets any one on one time. And it's only getting harder to find those opportunities.

When she was a newborn, we had lots of one on one time...but 1 am, 3 am, and 4:15 am, was not my idea of quality alone time. We soon were able to spend some together time when Gabs would go to sleep and we still had another feeding before I put her down. That was a peaceful time. She would also wake up before Gabriella, so I had about an hour with just singing and snuggling Gwen all by myself. I loved that. If I was lucky, Gwen wouldn't be sleeping when Gabriella took a nap, so we got some quiet time together then too.

Now, bed times are the same, wake up calls come simultaneously, and Gabriella doesn't nap anymore. So where does Gwen's one on one time fall? I'm finding it hard to know.

When Gabriella is at preschool with her friends, I take advantage of not being out numbered and head to the gym, or the grocery store, or any of the many errands that have to get done. Poor Gwen, just willingly goes right along with it. She's such a sweetie about it too.

Yesterday, Gwen and I were finished at the gym earlier than normal. We had about 45 minutes to kill before we walked over to pick Gabriella up. Finally, it was gorgeous outside, so we enjoyed the weather. Just the two of us. It was just her and I playing ring around the rosies, picking flowers and playing ball. It almost made me teary eyed just thinking about how she hardly gets those moments with only me.

Then I thought about it. I'm not the oldest in my family. I'm one of five children. And I'm a twin. I never think about how I didn't get as much one on one time with my mom as my older sister did. My life was my mom and dad and all my sisters. Gwen's life is Gabriella. She doesn't know any different and she loves her sister.

I realize, as a mom, I can only try my best to make each of my children feel the love I have for them individually. But truth be told, we're a family. We'll always be together and we'll always have each other around. That's how it should be. There will be times when I can take just Gabs to lunch or Gwen to the park. I will look forward very much to those times. But in the end, we are a family, and most of our memories will be of us being together.

That makes me feel better.

Typically...

I turn a show on for the girls when I get in the shower. This morning...
I didn't.

When I walked out of my bedroom this is exactly what I found. Gabriella bounced over to me with such a look of accomplishment and satisfaction on her face. She handed me the insides of two crustless pieces of bread smooched together and told me she had made sandwiches.

Uhhh...thanks babe!?

Quality Time

I was tempted to say "no" when Gabriella came into my room and asked if she could help.

I was in a hurry to finish a bag and really didn't have time for "help." Especially from a three year old. Gwen was asleep and I had just about an hour to get to the post office before it was too late to get the bag in the mail.

I still needed to hand sew the straps together when she saw me grab the needle and thread. She really wanted to help. And I really didn't need any...

I always go back to something that really stuck with me from my last semester at BYU before Joe and I moved to St. Louis. I was a newlywed and enrolled in a new family and marriage class that was devoted to The Proclamation on the Family. This was a fabulous class. By far the class that has stuck with me the most of all my classes.

I only wish I could go back now and take it all over again. Being a newlywed and playing softball was enough to distract me from really diving into all this class had to offer. I especially wish I could have soaked in more of the parenting part of it. I was clearly tuned into the marriage side of things, I had just gotten married. But children were certainly not in my near future, so I didn't at all take advantage of what I could have gained as a future mother.

I do however remember talking about young children and their eagerness to help. How children are always wanting to be involved in everything going on around them. If it's chores they're willing to do dishes or sweep the floor. They usually ask if they can help wash the windows or wash the car. My girls love to help in the kitchen. Stirring, pouring, mixing, dumping, they want to be up on a chair helping.

It so easy to not accept the help. Because, we know we can do it faster, better, or cleaner. I do usually end up wiping more pancake mix off the floor than anywhere else. And the apple juice always sloshes onto the counter when it's being mixed. But, at least they're helping. I want to encourage help. I want my girls to enjoy being with me and doing something with me. I think those will be the moments they remember. It's the quality time that matters.

So, today, I'm glad I remembered my BYU class. I'm glad I told Gabriella she could sew with me. I taught her how to do a running stitch and she was on her way to making a purse of her own. She was concentrating so hard on sewing just right. We sat together and sewed. So what that she got bored after 5 minutes. It's quality time not quantity.

I know one day I will be getting "help" from both Gabs and Gwen...but since I can't even trust Gwen with a crayon, I think I'll keep the sewing between me and Gabriella. I know I will miss these little girls being so little and willing to help. I know I can find so many more opportunities in my day to involve them. I hope I do.

So here's to more quality time...I need to take advantage while I still can.