Mind over matter...

  A couple weekends ago, I flew to LA for a sister's weekend. Actually, Susannah had won the entry to the Los Angeles New Year's Eve half-marathon and she had a hotel and wanted me to come hang out with her. I agreed, under the condition that she understand I will NOT be running any races. I hadn't jogged a step since the Zombie race in October. I brought a good book onto the plane (Unbroken, which incidentally is about an Olympic runner from Torrance--where Susannah currently lives) and was planning to read the book back in the hotel room while she was out running in the middle of the night. Still, she said I should bring my running things just in case.

  I spent the first night at her house and got to see the kids. Then we did a little bit of shopping, lunch at P.F. Chang's, and then headed to the hotel, The Biltmore downtown LA which was swarming with runners for this very race. I love historic buildings so I thought the hotel was great, even though the bathroom was a little "icky". I love the ceiling in the picture here, and check out that chandelier

So you see that I'm wearing running attire. Rest assured, I let Susannah talk me into walking the half marathon with her. I hadn't signed up for the race but figured it wouldn't hurt anything if I'm just "walking along." "It's just walking; I can always walk another step," I thought. We explored downtown and hung out at the mall and at nine, the race was beginning. I don't know what it was that filled that air, but the tension made my legs start itching to run. "Maybe I'll run the first mile," I told Susannah and she was so agreeable and said she'd do whatever I wanted; she was just so glad she wasn't there alone. Here we are just minutes before the race started. 

And once that race started, I don't know what happened but I felt invincible. It didn't matter that I hadn't run in two and a half months, I was going to run this thing. Okay, so we ran and walked and ran and walked and just kept going as fast as we possibly could. We ran through Chinatown and up and down hills. At mile seven, we were at Dodger Stadium and actually ran through the field there. We talked and walked and ran and talked through the whole thing. We thought about dad and spoke about him when we were passed by the cutest old man. I felt pretty good up until we passed Mile Marker 11. And then my legs hurt so bad from walking fast that it was actually a relief to run. So we ended up running more in the last two miles than walking. And wow did I just want it over! It is amazing the feeling of accomplishment you get when people are cheering you on at the end and you realize that it was kind of a big deal. I've never felt more relieved than to stop moving. We crossed the finish line a little after midnight. No one seemed to care that I hadn't actually registered for the race and they showered me with a medal and a tin-foil blanket and lots of food and drinks. I was doubly surprised by how many people we passed in those last several miles. Here we are, barely able to hold up our medals.

After resting a bit, we still had about seven blocks to walk home, but at least we could walk slowly. Kind of. It was late and it was downtown LA after all, so we kind of wanted to stay with a group of people who were all heading back to our same hotel. I showered, then laying in bed was actually the best feeling of all. 

  I didn't really understand just how much this 13 miles would affect my body. The next morning, I could hardly walk, which wasn't great considering Susannah had planned a "walking" tour of the city where she showed me the building where she worked as an accountant at KPMG right out of college. Every step was painful. Yeah, I shouldn't have been all that surprised considering I hadn't run in over two months, but sometimes when you tell your body to do something, it listens and then you pay for it later. Mind over matter, right? Well, I was definitely paying for it.

  We had tickets to see the LA Philharmonic perform Tchaikovsky's 4th and then some experimental, first-time-performed-in-the-US piece that reminded me a little of August Rush. We drove around a little city where Susannah hopes to move to in the future and then she dropped me off at the airport. It was a short trip but so fun. I'm so lucky to have an awesome sister who makes me do things I really don't want to do and then appreciate it later. Now, weeks later, when the soreness is all finally completely gone, I can say that yes, I'm glad I did it. I can now check 1/2 marathon off my bucket list of things to do before I die. 

Vintage Tiles

One of my very favorite things about my house is the antique fireplace mantle with vintage tiles in the master bedroom. In fact, we chose wall colors to coordinate with these tiles. I loved them from the first time I walked into this house. A couple weeks ago, I was watching an episode of HGTV's House Hunters International because I've been feeling the itch to roam the world again. I love England so I was watching a couple who was looking for a home in a village in England. I was shocked (and super excited) when I saw MY vintage tiles in a cottage the couple was looking at in Hertfordshire, England. Here they are:

And here's my bedroom mantle with the same tiles:

On this wall, we pulled off the closet doors and made it into a niche. And I added this antique desk I found on ksl and this chair I bought at an antique store in Alton, Illinois this summer. I love antiques!

And of course there's Eric's grandpa's chair that is the most comfortable chair in the entire world. Eric doesn't like the old-timey velveteen fabric, but I happen to like the pheasants on it and think the colors sort of go with our color scheme. (Although I have to mention that last year, when we put our house in Herriman on the market to sell, the realtor took one look at grandpa's chair and said, "You'll need to put that in storage." That's okay. She didn't understand its merits. She never sat on it.)

And lastly, we found a comforter set at Pottery Barn that pulled in the orange and blue of the vintage tiles, but also added several more colors into the mix as well. Eric and I have never had a king-size bed before. I read recently about some study done that showed more people with king-sized beds divorce than couples with queens. It's been an adjustment and I do find it a little too big at times, but I guess it's nice to have a little extra room on Saturday mornings when Portia and Bianca try to pile in the "family bed."

To the mountains we go...

I made it a goal to go skiing & snowboarding once a month during the winter month's this year. I figure if we're going to be living in Utah (and it looks like this is my fate), we might as well be able to enjoy the perks of living here. So during Christmas break, Eric took a day off work (this is a rare occasion) and we headed up to Solitude. We were late getting there so Portia couldn't get into the ski school for the morning bit, so we put her in the "play" area, which is pretty much like a nursery with crafts and Play-Doh. After lunch, she started at the ski school. This is her third season skiing so Portia's quite the little pro.

Bianca snowboarded with me in the morning and then she got in on the afternoon class as well.

It was sunny but really cold. On our drive home, Portia informed me that she preferred the "nursery" over the skiing. The more you do it, the more you like something, right?

I've already signed the girls up for January. We're going to The Canyons, which used to be called Wolf Mountain and is where I worked all through college as a lift operator and in the kitchen. I hear it's much changed. The girls are going to do the Utah Learn-to-Ski program and I'm going to mix things up a little--Portia's going to snowboard and Bianca's going to try out skiing. I don't think Bianca will like it, but I'd like her to make an informed decision, nevertheless.

Christmas 2012

Now that my house is void of any trace of Christmas, I feel a hint of depression settle over me (that could be because the kids STILL aren't back at school). January is always a difficult month for me. I normally start a project, but with all the projects I had this year, I'm not sure that's the best thing for me now. Maybe I'll start planning a summer trip. That's a small project in itself. Christmas this year was another good one. We considered going away for Christmas, but I wanted to spend our first Christmas in our new house.

We spent Christmas Eve this year with a friend of Eric's. We did our normal Christmas Eve stuff, just without the shepherd's pie Eric normally makes. Instead, we had Chinese food. We read some Christmas stories and did the nativity. Portia was Mary, with her silky wrapped around her head, and Bianca was the angel. It had snowed all day and the roads weren't great. There was plenty of snow for a white Christmas.

Eric and I started a fire in the fireplace in our bedroom when we returned home Christmas Eve and wrapped presents until about midnight. Bianca and Portia decided to sleep together in the bedroom downstairs by the Christmas tree to await Santa's imminent arrival. Fortunately, they fell asleep really quickly. Every year I think I've got to start the wrapping earlier and every year we end up doing it all on Christmas Eve. The 4-hour-log we used in the fireplace ended up going for nearly 8 hours and I slept fitfully through the night.

Eric got up at 5am, started a fire in the fireplace in the basement, and we got up at seven for presents. Portia's three categories this year were: 1) creativity -- art easel, paper rolls, smock, paint and paintbrushes, more art supplies; 2) exercise -- new skis and ski boots and koala aromatherapy koala for after-skiing sore muscles; 3) creative play -- lego friends stable.

Bianca's three categories were: 1) creativity -- calligraphy quill, ink well, parchment paper and ink; 2) beauty & relaxation -- bathtub caddy, scented bubble bath and soaps, flat/curling iron, and jewelry tree; 3) exercise -- new running outfit and shoes, MP3 player, and stop watch.

Father Christmas, of course, fills the girls' stockings with toys and candy and other little things like jewelry and lip gloss.

One of the highlights of Christmas morning was the present Bianca made for Eric. She had been sewing and cutting and working on this for days before Christmas. I woke up to the sound of Bianca's sewing machine whirring on Christmas Eve morning. She worked so hard and Eric loved the BYU apron she made for him. It's rugged and awesome and she is so sweet and thoughtful. Bianca tagged Portia's name onto the presents she thoughtfully gave. Hopefully Portia will eventually learn from Bianca's gift-giving example.

Bianca also gave presents to the dog and cat. Jillyboo wasn't exactly overjoyed with the dress Bianca put on her. In fact, once it was on her, she would only move to get closer to us. It was amazing how affectionate she became with that dress on. But really, she was trying to get our hands closer to the velcro she we could take the dress off her. Here's Jillyboo feeling very little Christmas joy.

We spent Christmas day at Bruce and Joanie's. We brought our Bread Pudding Quiche, and I got a nap in the afternoon, and the kids did a little talent show. Portia played O Come Little Children on the cello while I accompanied on the piano. And Bianca played a Seitz concerto she's been playing on her viola. Then Josh played his trumpet, and Emily played her clarinet and they all played Christmas songs together and it was a beautiful cacophony of wonderful Christmas music. We even headed over to the swimming pool and went in the hot tub at Saratoga Springs before heading home for the night.

It's taken me weeks to finally write this...

as my heart was so bruised over the whole situation. And then the Sandy Hook elementary school shootings happened and it made my heart even more tender. But I think I'm finally ready to admit what happened and to preface it by saying that I'm so grateful and lucky to have Portia. Don't get me wrong--I'm so lucky to have Bianca too, but this little story is one that had my head reeling with thoughts of losing Portia.

It all started at cello lessons. Portia has a hard time remembering to keep her feet planted firmly on the ground when she plays. Her teacher pulled out two quarters and put them under her heels and said if he didn't see those quarters for the rest of the lesson, she could keep them. Since that lesson, she would ask me to put coins under her heels during cello practice with the same agreement. I didn't mind it. And she started collecting her money until she had a dollar and then kept begging me to take her to the dollar store so she could buy something. 

We had some time in South Jordan and I needed to pick up a book from the library there (Sorry, Highland City but your library isn't up to par) and I told Portia that we could stop at the Dollar Store over there by the library as well. As we were pulling into the parking lot, I asked Portia which she wanted to do first--the dollar store or the library--and she replied the dollar store. I was getting off the phone with Eric, asking about where the cheapest place to buy gas around his work was, when I parked the car right in front of the Dollar Tree. Bianca jumped out and made a mad-dash for the dollar store. (Kids love the dollar store--not sure why but I think it's because it's easier to persuade me to get them something when everything's so dang cheap.) Portia was getting out too and as she was, I jumped out of the car to hold the door so that it wouldn't ding the car next to us. She went to the sidewalk and I had to grab my purse and lock up the car. When I entered the Dollar Store, Bianca was studying some cozy socks near the front. She told me that Portia never came in. Of course she did, I said, and we started to go through the aisles trying to find her so I could prove Bianca wrong and that she could get to the toy aisle to finish up business so we could move on to the next thing on our to-do list. 

After three times through the store and a check of the bathrooms, I started panicking. Then I checked the stores next door--a dance studio and a mattress store. And I began to wonder, could someone have snatched Portia in the short, distracted time I was turning off the phone and grabbing my purse from the car? When I asked the cashiers about a missing little girl, they were not helpful. Just a shrug, a no, and they continued checking everyone out. I called Eric (he said he'd come right over from work) and then I called the police. In eleven years of motherhood, I've never had to do this. Never. I can't remember what I said, just something about not being able to find my child and I just didn't know what to do. The police came and there were officers everywhere. The woman police officer I was following around said her entire force was there, about 10 officers, all looking for Portia. Then I was the tear-streaked crazy mother following behind her, going from store to store, searching frantically. I know what all those people were thinking and it drove me mad that there I was, someone who prided myself on being a good mom, and being looked at with scorn as people thought, "You can't even watch your own kid?"

Eric and Bianca were now going to Menchie's (another of my kids' favorites) and Harmon's and everywhere along this very long strip mall. I just couldn't believe Portia would venture out there on her own. I pictured her stuffed into some strange car and couldn't fathom the myriad things that could be happening to my baby. I began to break down, not being able to see where this was going to end. 

And that's when my police officer said, "We think we found her." She put me in the back of her cop car (a first for me) and we drove to the library, all the way at the end of the strip mall. I think it's at least a good quarter mile from the Dollar Store with at least two through streets. And that's where we found Portia--hanging out with a police officer there, looking not so upset at all. It's funny how you can want to hug and kiss your child, while simultaneously want to beat her for putting you through such a heart-wrenching half hour. And what was she thinking, walking all that way by herself?!?  She informed me that she did let the librarian know she couldn't find her mom, but what good is a loudspeaker through a library when your mom is a quarter mile away frantically searching the aisles of the dollar store? Eric and I joke that Portia has a built-in compass, something neither Bianca nor I were blessed with, and maybe she's a little too independent knowing exactly where she was going. But didn't she say the dollar store first? Aghhhh!

At the end of it all, I have never been so relieved to have Portia with me. We ended up having to reschedule cello lessons that night to an hour later and I found it ironic that here we were, going full circle--ending right back where we started, at cello lessons. 

At least there was a happy ending. And we had a nice long talk on staying together. Always. Even if we think we know where we're going.

I just can't stop...

I blame pinterest. Too many ideas. I just can't leave my Christmas tree alone. I've been consumed by it. I keep adding something here or there. First it was the little brown owls and pinecones I already had leftover from my Thanksgiving decorations. Then the big snowy maribou owls I found at Taipan Trading. 

Then I went to IKEA and got some lanterns so I can replicate the big fabulous already-decorated tree I love at Taipan. Then I got these awesome little crystal chandelier ornaments there too. And I hung a chandelier over the bird's nest in the lantern. I LOVE this!

And oh my gosh, I love these birdhouse lights from Target. It fit with my bird and owl theme perfectly.

And I just can't stop. I cannot walk into Taipan again (UNTIL after Christmas for the after-Christmas sales, of course.)

But I LOVE my tree, even if it is a little overdone.

I realized as I was getting my girls ready for church yesterday that their dresses matched my tree's blue and red color scheme. See, I'm obsessed with my Christmas tree! (I can't believe this is Portia's Christmas dress from two years ago and it seems to still fit her just fine.) 

I'm pretty sure I just need to leave the poor Christmas tree alone. Maybe if I sit far enough away from it, I will stop tweaking and re-adjusting the ornaments as well. 

St. Nicholas Day

Dec. 6 is St. Nicholas Day. I guess not many people celebrate St. Nicholas Day, but we always did when we were kids. Maybe it's from my mom's German heritage, as it is still celebrated in Europe. It's based on the Saint Nicholas who is the model for our modern day Santa Claus. This was a real saint who had a reputation as a "bringer of gifts." Before you go to bed, you're supposed to leave out shoes by the chimney or by your door and they're supposed to be filled with sweet treats when you awaken.

This is a tradition that I've tried to continue with my family. I know Christmas is already a lot of work, but I like this little mini celebration to get things started. This morning, Bianca and Portia awoke to a new pair of slippers with some of their favorite candy.

It wasn't much, but I love the little squeal of excitement and the happy footsteps thunking around the house after they find their treats. And I like to hold on to the traditions that were special to me, in hopes that my children will continue to pass it along.

Happy St. Nicholas Day!