Wednesday, August 29, 2012


We are drifting currently. In a perpetual state of suitcases and beds that aren't our own. We are buying half gallons of milk rather than whole gallons because we are never in a place long enough to finish an entire gallon. All of our stuff is packed up ready for a move to an unknown location.

We are drifting because Kyle's internship is over and we had places to go and things to do before routine starts back up at the end of September. So when there is a 75th Anniversary at Camp Dudley...we go. Packing up our apartment? Back up to Spokane. Family vacation in Yellowstone. It's been planned. My suitcase feels routine now. My makeup jumbled up in a bag. This whole summer I had to decide what few outfits I would wear. Enough to last me a week but who are we kidding I am a compulsive overpacker.

What if scenarios play in my mind. Rain, hiking, swimming, camping, fancy dinners, exercising....I like to dabble in various activities. Quite frankly, as much as I love the stability of staying in place there is something alluring about drifting around.

You have to adapt, go with the flow, and be creative. I feel like I am working full force trying to figure out how to get my child to take consistent naps when every day looks different and often we are moving.

But my little boy is a champ and has taken to drifting about like a star. He reads to himself in the car sometimes but mostly stares out the window. I like to imagine he is taking it all in, this earth that has been created for us. Imagining climbing those trees, scaling rocks, and swimming in lakes and rivers. He is a dreamer. I can tell.

Currently we are in Yellowstone and have just been amazed at what is here. Bison on the side of the road, geysers and hotsprings bubbling, releasing sulfuric steam. It's pretty wild, literally. On Saturday we will make the drive home and attempt to find a place to live for the next year. Originally we had a place lined up, practically perfect with a backyard and everything. But it fell through, with the owner wanting to make updates so that we can't move in until October. We were  hoping for September. So the great search for an awesome place is on. I have dreams of course of woodwork, hardwood floors, and a backyard for Max. But hey, I am dreamer, always imagining the possibility of the wishes of my heart coming true. It keeps me going, especially when we are nomads moving from place to place. My dreams ground me, create a foundation for me to build my life upon, even when I myself can't stop moving.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012


I think I have a problem, I think I think too much.     -Maria Mena

That is one of my favorite songs of all time. It jumps into my head when I realize I have been mulling over something far too long to the point where I have lost perspective. It's like I am too close to a Monet painting and all I see is the brush strokes.

I have a hard time feeling successful. I used to depend on teacher's compliments, grades, and awards for feelings of success but now I look around and pray that I can feel Heavenly Father's approval which I know is there.

I love to write, I like to draw, I can read like a racehorse and analyze like...a good analyzer. I love to sing and dance and boy do a love to sit down and watch a good movie. I love working with children, building their confidence and reminding them so much of the love this world has for them.

I can recognize what I am good at and what I need to work on but sometimes I need that immediate gratification.

My mom is a rock climber.

She started when I was about 3 years old and I used to dread it when she would head out on a Saturday and be gone ALL day climbing away in the mountains. I even hid her keys in a vaccum bag once. I never understood the draw of climbing for her.

A couple of years ago, before I got married I finally got to go up with her. The sun was unapologetic but my mother was her optimistic self and encouraged my ability to climb the column of rock before me. I trusted her belief in my ability and so I climbed up.

I have gone occasionally during the summer but it was always just a fun activity to do with my mother. Last summer I didn't go at all being pregnant and then a new mother. But this past Saturday I went up, without my mother. She watched Max so I could just climb and not think about all that motherhood stuff that can get so messy like a Monet painting.

Turns out I am pretty good at climbing. I mean, it's just climbing up rocks but it can get hard at spots and your arms are aching and you can either decide to just go down and try another time or you can continue to go up.

Climbing rock, real rock, is a beautiful experience. There is no music, only the chatter of friends. Nothing to focus on except the rock in front of you and even though you are close up, the rock is straightforward. Sometimes there is a puzzle to find within the grip of your fingers but it is ultimately that pull to get to the top that clears your mind.

One goal. A mix of adrenaline and peaceful clarity and moving up. Then the sweet sigh of success.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Ode to a Nectarine

Great for teething.
 Delicious to mothers and babies alike.
Nectarines are a divine gift of the summer.