Opening song

Church was good today! I love it when that happens! Because honestly, it's not always all peachy-perfect. Ok, so 2/3 of the hours of church were good today: I spent the middle hour sitting in nursery with Amber, which I struggle with. When I got ready to leave her, she was not happy and I thought she was going to FREAK out and melt down like usual. Eventually I extracted myself, assuring her that I was going to look for Daddy. She stayed in nursery alone for the last hour of church! That's two weeks in a row! I am totally trying to leave a little earlier next week. 

Anyways, I felt so uplifted during both sacrament meeting AND Relief Society today. It was such a YES, slow-burning feeling of TRUTH. The opening hymn in sacrament meeting was #136, I Know that My Redeemer Lives. Wow. Usually that's sung as a sacrament hymn or a rest hymn or even a closing hymn, but today it was the opening hymn. It was so powerful to start the meeting off "with a bang," singing pure unified testimony about Jesus Christ LIVING RIGHT NOW. He is alive right now and he definitely knew we were singing that hymn. I could feel it. While we were singing, I was still wrestling with Amber and doing all of the normal things we do to settle our wiggly family into the hard-backed pews. But amidst all of that, while I was looking around the room singing the line "I know that my Redeemer lives!" I thought "That is why we are all here. Because he lives and we want to worship him and remember him and keep on trying to do better and be a little bit more like him." That is what the gospel is all about: trying our best to follow Jesus Christ's example.

Another thought that came to me while I was singing and looking around the chapel (I know enough of the words to hymn 136 to be able to look around more while singing it): I suddenly realized that this ward felt like family. Already? I asked myself. We've only been here for three months! Another look around the chapel confirmed the feeling. I saw the families we had worked with to clean the church building over the past month (odd how companionable vacuuming and sweeping on opposite sides of the building can be). I saw kind Relief Society sisters whose comments in class had inspired me. I saw families who had reached out to us repeatedly, from bringing cookies to inviting us to their homes and really working to help us feel welcome. I recognized a few tireless primary workers who patiently handle the circus of five dozen-plus energetic kids for two hours every Sunday. I saw our good bishop and his counselors, who have made the effort to get to know us and include us (hello, callings, assignments, and church talks--haha). I also saw plenty of people who I did not know yet. But even their unnamed faces felt familiar. Already.

While we sang, I wondered at that sudden surge of familial-feeling. When did it happen? I realized that I did not feel stressed or anxious to go to church today (almost every week I have been nervous to go to church and do all of that awkward-cringe-worthy preliminary socializing to get to know people). I have been doing my best to serve and participate and show up for our new ward family. Even though my social style is quiet and it usually takes me a very long time to really feel comfortable in new places, I felt comfortable in the group of people assembled at church today. Sure, there is still a long way to go before I know everyone's names and faces, along with their stories and which kids belong to who, (and before I stop feeling totally awkward!) but I still sat there savoring and wondering at that feeling of belonging while we sang about Jesus. That's what the love of Christ does: it speaks peace, saying that you belong, that you are needed, you are important, and most of all, you are loved. 

Sunday morning still feels roomy with church at 10am, so we have time to spare before church. And freshly washed, dressed up kids are irresistible. So, these are some pre-church pictures taken over the past couple of weeks.

 Amber insists on digging in the dirt, no matter how recent her last bath or how dressed up she is.

 We dug out Jeff's old missionary nametag one morning.

 Sniff. 

 Rose's teeth-bare-ing smile-on-demand.

Sister Sunday best: bobby socks and mary janes.

"Fun mom" outing

Last week had its share of star-crossed gatherings. We made plans to meet up with two sets of moms-and-kids in our ward at the nearest splash pad (45 minutes away) so the moms could chat while our kids played. We arrived at the splash pad first, before our friends. The kids played at the splash pad (without our friends) for half an hour before I realized that we had gone to the wrong place. I spent a good amount of time corralling the reluctant children back into the van. It is hard to gather kids at a crowded splash pad, especially when you're not wearing a swimsuit! Right when I had one kid cornered, the other two ran off in opposite directions! I felt bad for pulling them away so soon after our arrival, but at that point I thought we'd be at the other splash pad in no time. Alas, it was not in the cards. One of the text messages from our friends said it was the "big wood castle park" so I tried Goethals Park, passing around our picnic PBJs while we drove. No splash pad. I felt so lame for not finding the right park because even though I'm new in our ward, I am not new to the tri cities! We decided to abandon our plans to do our own thing, and spent an hour at Goethals Park playing in the tunnels, creek, and zip line before heading out to our three "fun errands": two bookstores and the scout store.

I do not want to turn this into a cub scout rant, so suffice it to say that we spent $70 on the required cub scout paraphernalia for Jay to start up with the church troop. The checkout lady was all matronly and acted like she was presenting Jay with a rite of passage and he should be so grateful to her. But she wasn't the one paying for all that STUFF! I gave a wan smile, forked over the fortune, and got OUT of there. Sigh. Did I mention that I was called as the 8 year old cub scout leader? This should be interesting.

After that expensive trip, we went to my favorite used bookstore, The Bookworm, where they were having their annual teacher sale, with a section of books for 50 cents each. Guess what book I found? A pristine copy of the cub scout Wolf manual, which we had just spent $15 on at the scout store. It was 50 cents at the Bookworm. I bought it on principle, although there was no way I was about to drive back across that busy section of town and return the $15 book.

I browsed the Bookworm happily while the kids played in the fun corner full of toys (genius store furnishings). Amber's extra-saggy bathing suit bottom brought me back to reality with a jolt: I forgot to put her pull-up diaper back on after the watery parks, and she pooped in her suit. In the bookstore. With other people nearby. It was not our finest moment. I promptly purchased my small stack of 50 cent Black Stallion books with a few others, and herded the kids out to the van. We were parked right in front of the big windows of the store and I had no choice but to yank Amber's suit down right there and take care of the mess. The clump of poo fell out of the suit and landed on Amber's shoe, and the situation did not improve until I fished a discarded peanut buttery sandwich baggie from our picnic lunch off of the floor of the van and used it to scoop up the plop o poo off of the shoe. I wrapped it all in a grocery bag, scrubbed Amber's butt off, sanitized her shoe, and FINALLY got her back into the car seat. It was 93 degrees. Stinky smells and wiggly two year olds are always more difficult in the heat.

After that I was feeling hot, tired, and done with the outing, but it has been over a year since I took all three kids to walk around the temple together and I really wanted to go. It felt like a good idea, and I reminded myself that I have never regretted going to the temple. So I mentioned it to the kids. My suggestion of a temple walk garnered a 66% approval rate from the back seats, and I was able to get a unanimous vote when I threw ice cream into sweeten the deal. We walked around the beautiful temple and admired all of the bright blooming flowers. Every time the angel Moroni was out of view, Amber said "where's da temple?" Then when it came back into sight, she said "dere it is!" Although I was too hot to explain that not all temples have the angel Moroni statue, it was still a worthwhile walk. In spite of the heat, we felt that calming, steady peace that lingers even on the outside of the temple. I was glad that we went. Amber did run away a few times, but for the most part I think it was positive.

We drove away from the temple chanting ICE CREAM, ICE CREAM! and decided that we needed a drive thru since we were all hot and tired. McDonald's won the day, and I passed soft serve cones to the back seat thinking that our nice new van was about to get a sticky milky taste of real life. Miraculously, the damage was minimal, and we drove the 45 minutes home in good spirits. Visiting two parks and getting ice cream made me feel like quite the fun mom. We don't go out and get treats very often at all (we are more of a slow-paced home-body type of family), so it felt extra special to have an outing designed for PLAYING and then finish it with ice cream. A fine fun-mom summer's day!

Jay and Rose, shooting each other with pivoting water guns.

Rose climbed atop the basketball shaped tunnel slide. It seemed risky to me, but what is childhood without a few risky climbs?

Amber was in heaven, but this particular park had too many blind spots for me to sit comfortably and watch Amber roam. She kept disappearing alarmingly.

Goethals Park:

I thought it was a wood castle, but it turned out to be brown plastic.

(she peed through her swimsuit onto the grass, so I told her to sit in the creek to wash off...)

 Jay riding the fun zip line swing at Goethals Park.

Temple walk:

(selfies in the bright sunshine are not all fun and games)

Ice cream on a hot day: fun mom win!

Yakima Canyon Run

As my marathon training progresses, my weekly long run gets longer. And longer. One of the ways I handle the tedium of 2++ hours of running is to have a destination. It keeps the run interesting and exciting. To stay sane, I'm trying not to do a long run in the same place twice. Last week was a building week and on Saturday I did my longest run in eight years: 17 miles. I knew that I had to go somewhere good if I was going to be running for nearly THREE HOURS in a row, but it is August and rattlesnakes abound on all of the nearby trails. So I picked the most scenic route that's an hour drive from our house: the Yakima Canyon.

Like any heartless marathon-training spouse would do, I left my sick husband at home with three kids on Saturday morning and drove the hour to the Yakima Canyon outside of Selah, WA. During the drive, I tried something new and listened to a downloaded religious talk from a BYU forum speech called Audacious Faith by Brett G. Scharffs. My mom emailed it to the family because she liked it and I really wanted to read it all week, but the thing was LONG and the kids are loud, so it wasn't happening until I realized that I had an entire hour of alone driving time coming up. Anyways, with my phone, I lassoed the sleek Bluetooth speaker connection in our new van and the talk lasted exactly the number of minutes between our driveway and the parking spot I chose in the canyon. It was such a refreshing way to start the day, driving along at dawn listening to thought-provoking, uplifting, wise words.

Thanks to Brother/Professor Scharffs, my inner zen was humming before I even reached the scenic canyon. I parked at Roza Campground and recreation area, paid my $5 day use fee, used the vault toilet, and embarked on my run. It was a pleasant 60 degrees and the sun was low. The road winds through the Yakima Canyon, hugging the Yakima River for most of the way, with tall rocky cliffs on one side and rainbow-reflective water on the other. I was even in the shade for the first third of the run, thanks to those high cliffs. In spite of my best efforts, I did see a lone rattlesnake--smooshed on the side of the road. But dead or alive, snakes always rattle my nerves, and I was twitchy for the next few miles after The Sighting. Then I reached my destination turnaround point at Umtanum Creek, the sun climbed over the side of the canyon, and it got HOT. We're talking 80 degrees at 10am and I still had seven miles to run!

Umtanum Creek proved to be a mile further from Roza than I expected, but I figured I could run 18 miles instead of 17, and then walk the last mile back to the car. That plan failed to factor in the 80 degree direct sunlight and several hefty hill climbs through the canyon! Thankfully I had the brains to stop around mile 11 for a water bottle refill at the only store in the whole canyon--Red's Fly Shop (apparently fly fishing is big in the canyon). The nice folks at Red's filled my bottle up with ice cold water from their drink machine and I continued on with six miles to go. I had to shift up a few water-gears and drink 3 times per mile in the heat. It wasn't helping either--I was hot and tired by mile 12. At mile 15 I had two thoughts simultaneously:

1. "I am stopping at 17.0 miles and walking the last 2 miles, no matter what." 
2. "If Rose joined me right now and ran these last two miles with me, I would not be able to keep up with her!" The thought was somehow motivating, discouraging, and satisfying all at once. 

I kept jogging till my watch beeped at mile 17, and then immediately stopped and walked. The sun was hot. I felt it burning my very exposed skin. I drank my last few mouthfuls of now-warm water, reminding myself forcibly of Frodo on the side of Mount Doom, minus a little of the dirt. It took me 38 minutes to walk that last 2 miles back to the van, and I very nearly tried my thumb at hitchhiking a couple of times along the way. At last I saw the blessed sign for Roza Recreation Area, and then Vanna came into view. I unearthed my key from the depths of the awkward key pouch in my shorts, grabbed my sun-warmed spare water bottle from inside Vanna, and walked down to the river to cool off. Removing socks and shoes, I waded in the cool water on velvety mud, scattering minnows in all directions. In hopes of cooling down my warm water bottle, I floated it in the river while I waded. 

There is nothing quite like stepping hot tired feet into a cold mountain-fed river after nearly 3 hours of pounding the pavement. It felt AMAZING! After ten minutes of basking and wading, I put my shoes back on and drove home, stopping to buy expensive gas station Gatorade to begin the lengthy process of post run rehydration. I'm not sure which sensation was more soothingly satisfying: tired feet/swollen legs in the icy river or cold blue Gatorade sliding down my parched throat. I ignored the horrific sugar content in the Gatorade and focused on the electrolytes. Yum, it was good.

Saturday's 17 miler brought my weekly mileage total up to 50 miles--the most I've run in a week since college! Thankfully 50 miles is also my peak weekly mileage, so even when my long run gets longer, I won't increase my overall weekly mileage. But still. I was feeling that canyon run all the rest of the day on Saturday, and I slept like a rock that night. I woke up on Sunday morning in the same exact position that I fell asleep in! I even "slept in" till 6:45am on Sunday, something I have not managed to do at all since we moved. It felt wonderful. Now I am already seven miles into a new training week. 8 weeks till race day, and it can't come soon enough!

 I counted at least a dozen different colors reflected in the river. Amazing!

I wanted to stop for longer and admire this view around mile 6, but I only took 30 seconds. 

 Up and over through this basalt funnel.

After a slow climb, running this long stretch back down to the river level was a veritable wind tunnel--I could barely move forward for a few minutes, the wind was so strong! 

 Basalt

My relief at finally finding Umtanum Recreation Site prompted a slightly crazed thumbs-up picture. 

This is what I wanted to check out: the Umtanum suspension footbridge. It was bouncy and the river below looked really deep and menacing while I swayed across the bridge.  

Across the bridge, a quick peek around, and then back the way I came, all 9.5 miles of it. 

 Thank you, Red!

While I walked, I decided to stay positive and call it a Victory Walk rather than a walk of shame. Because running 17 miles is a victory! 

I want to ride this train! 

 I made it. Whew. 

Vanna had a nice view while I was away.

 Do you hear the angels singing?

 Sweet, sweet nectar.

   Lest this tale leaves the impression that leaving three kids home with a sick husband for six hours had no consequences... when I got home, the house was eerily quiet. The first thing I saw was a jar of Nutella sitting on the kitchen floor with the lid lying next to it. Then I heard running water in the bathroom. Amber had feasted on Nutella and then painted the sink with it. She was in the process of trying to wash herself off when I came in.