The bonus girls trip

Thanks to my Aunt's generosity, my Mom, sister and I were able to head South a day and a half before my Grandpa's funeral. After loading up in Dawnie's fabulous truck,

(Consider this on Mama's Christmas list, Andrew)

we were on our way to Mesquite, Nevada (and every Maverick station between Salt Lake and St. George). 

I suppose I ought to mention that in the first twenty minutes of my trip, a member of our traveling party, who shall not be named, was pulled over for speeding. Thanks to my big mouth, I informed the officer that my brother was likewise a police officer. Enter false statement,

"I am not trying to butter you up... (actually, I am), but our brother is a police officer."  This could go one of two ways I thought to myself. He looks up in interest,

"Whose brother?" I am sitting next to my sister; who may or may not have been the driver involved in said incident.

"Our brother." Come on, Sir. "We're sisters, can't you tell?" Because the rest of the world can. I've been called, 'Ami' on a regular basis since adolescence. 

 

"Where does he work?" We tell him.

"What does he do?" ... Really? I wanted to say, 

"He catches bad guys, same as you..." but luckily Ami jumped in with his official policeman title. 

 After convincing him that we were worthy of his mercy based on this association, he said that if he was contacted by our brother, he'd see what he could do. I am pleased to say that Officer Mike delivered! The ticket was dropped after he made the call. Hooray! It was a road trip miracle. Things only went up from there.

 

Dawnie's beautiful home

Dinners out, a generous amount of conversation, a movie (we ended up walking out of...) and hiking in dress shoes all contributed to a great weekend.

Here are some photos from our day trip to the Valley of Fire. We are eager to return here and camp with the kids.

Preparing to scale the stairs to see ancient petroglyphs.

Half way up, my Mom remembers she is terrified of heights.

She kept on anyway. Way to go, Mom!

Not hiking shoes.

This photo would be that much better if it was 

my kids heads poking through instead of mine.

Speaking of my kids, it has to be said that I missed them terribly. I was only away two nights but based on my behavior, you'd have thought it had been weeks. We have an extra cell phone, long story, so Andrew used this opportunity to teach Eliza how to text. Now that I'm home and the phone is out of her hands, I don't have the heart to delete our first ever text message conversation that spanned the three days I was gone. Her spelling attempts were darling and her dramatic sentiment echoed her Mother's.

Perhaps they should have come along, but I think there time at home was well spent. Andrew took Friday off from work to accompany Eliza on a field trip to... wait for it... the dinosaur park. Since we have 1,000 dinosaur park pictures already, I couldn't fault him for not taking any. Nanna Teresa came up to tend the other kids so Andrew could go with Eliza. Thanks Nanna!

Remembering Grandpa Dan

 July 10, 2012, my Grandpa, Daniel Straup Mays, passed away. Per his wishes, Grandpa opted out of a traditional burial (in terms that I'm familiar with anyway). Instead, his body was cremated. Two weekends ago, I was able to join members of my family in Saint George to mourn his passing and remember his life.

 (May 2012, my last visit with Grandpa)

My Grandpa loved to travel and he loved nature. My Dad fondly remembers the many vacations that my Grandpa took him on throughout his childhood. I expect it's fair to say that of all the places he saw, the stunning red rock country that enriches Southern Utah was among his favorite places to be.

My Dad's mother, Marie Ford Mays, passed away September 7, 1983. My  Mom was pregnant with me at the time. When I was small, Grandpa remarried my Grandma Katie. Together, they moved to St. George and settled into a tight knit community called Kayenta. Here, they lived out the rest of his life. From camping trailers to a motor home, the two of them (plus a dog) carried on Grandpa's passion for exploration. I have happy memories of visiting the pair of them as a child and remember the excitement I'd feel whenever they'd spontaneously stop by.

Katie decided on a neat location to spread Grandpa's ashes. Again, this was a first for most of us. I have to say that the experience from start to finish suited my Grandpa. I can't imagine a more appropriate place for his family to gather on his behalf.

 

 The family commentary wasn't formal, but there was a reverence and a feeling of unity as we hiked and visited together. It was great to see my cousins, Aunts and Uncles and to listen to my Dad banter back and forth with my Uncle Rob.

(Dad, Grandpa's wife Katie, Uncle Melvin Rob and Aunt Lyn)

A public walk and memorial service followed later that evening for his neighbors and friends. I did not attend as I was already headed back home to my kids but I hear that was likewise a neat experience. Since his passing, my thoughts continue to circulate around my Grandpa as I imagine what he must be doing now. I think of his reunion with my sweet Grandmother among other things.

May you rest in peace, Grandpa. You are very loved and sincerely missed.

fall faces, familiar places

I have a collection of miscellaneous pictures that it's time to do something with so here we are.

 "Hi friends!" 

Henry, with his stellar bed head, loves his little sister very much. He is incredibly affectionate with her, not to mention, he is tolerant beyond expectation of her feisty spirit (read: she likes to pick on him).

 "Don't your forget who wears the pants in this relationship!" She warns. 

Yes. That sounds about right.

Fall has arrived. I forgot how stunning it is. We have never lived this close to mountains. They are alive with color. Eliza has a great view of them from the playground at her elementary school. 

And while we've enjoyed homemade soup and other autumn comforts, we have yet to say goodbye to the bags of popsicles and ice cream.

As of late, we're still enjoying playing outside with friends.

 

 Having a late start with this year's planting, our garden's production has been minimal compared to year's past; which is why these little beauties were all the more fun to pick.

"What's up, doc?"

After Eliza's broken arm, both kids were reluctant to return to their bikes. After voicing my concern over the dust collection on said bicycles (read: "If you're not going to use them, how about we give them to some children who will?), we made it around our circle as a family. It wasn't long until my shadowing services were no longer needed.

 

Henry hasn't wanted to stop riding since. 

 Did someone say, 'bike ride'?

Andrew has his own definition of what it means to really take a bike ride.

No, friends. That beauty doesn't belong to him. His version of beautiful runs a little different. And yes, that's probably a slam on myself, but I'm okay with that. What I'm trying to say is that this past month Andrew sold our 1998 civic. 

 

Because car history matters at this house, sorry, here's a quick summary. We purchased the civic in 2006 from Andrew's parents shortly before Eliza was born. Our personal history extends further than that as it was the car that he took me to senior prom in back in 2002. Crazy, right? Anyway, it's been with us for many years. Andrew was sad, for about twenty five seconds, when it was sold a few weekends back.

The problem was, the vehicle he had his sights set on wasn't ready yet. AS AWESOME AS IT WAS (feel the sarcasm, embrace the sarcasm) to take him to and from work everyday in the interim, we jumped at the chance to borrow my super cool, awesome in every way, studly, quick witted, handsome brother Mark's motorcycle. 

 

 Superlatives are necessary when writing about the generosity of a friend or family member. And if you know Mark, you know he's not embarrassed by said praise. ;)

And finally, after days that felt like YEARS to my poor husband... the 4 runner was his.

I pretty much haven't seen my husband since. He is busy happily checking off his list of updates and improvements. As for Mark's motorcycle, we still have it. Why? Because we stink at returning things. So if you're smart, don't let us borrow your stuff! I expect that it will be back in Mark's garage this weekend (fingers crossed).

Thanks again, Mark.

Last but not least, Eliza and Henry participated in our ward's primary program last Sunday. I considered Henry a wild card as we prepared and practiced his part. I was optimistic but kept my mind open that he might feel overwhelmed, shy, etc.

I was happily proven wrong. That sweet boy sang his heart out. He knew the words to each song well and was full of enthusiasm. Watching both Eliza and Henry do their best was a lot of fun, for lack of a better word. My emotional Mom heart was soaring high in happy heart heaven. As I teach Primary, I was up in the stands too. I had a prime view of Andrew's huge smile and his parent's faces too. Thank you Nanna and Bubba for coming.We had lunch at our house after followed by a great visit outside. We love you!

Soccer Saturdays

We're about half way through Eliza and Henry's first ever soccer season, so I figure now is as good of time as any to do a little soccer season recap.

 

 Says Lottie, "You know, Mom... I'd like a jersey too."

 The season began and to be honest, they were both more excited about their uniforms than playing in a game. Am I right, Eliza?

 Work it, girl.

 

Henry, also known as player #4, was cooperative his first thirty seconds of being on the soccer field. When the game actually started, he short circuited a bit ...or completely. Apparently the stick figure drawings that I so carefully drew to explain how the game would be played didn't do the trick. 

 I am pleased to report that, in the subsequent weeks that followed, Henry's confidence has grown. I think that his experience on the field increased his understanding of the game allowing him to relax and have fun.

 

And even more importantly, he understands the motivational promise of a soccer treat post game.

 Go get 'em, Henry!

 With the help of a weekly soccer practice, Eliza picked up on the rules of the game quickly. My favorite thing about Eliza's experience so far is how cute she looks in a uniform the dynamic of her team. She has great friends to play with and an even better coach.

 Way to hustle, Eliza.

 *Insert another cliche sideline soccer cheer here:

 What a great kick! Go defense, go!  Like I said, we're not done with the season. I have time to come up with loads more cliche cheers. Does anyone know how many years I have until my sideline enthusiasm embarrasses my kids?

Don't worry. There was hot chocolate.

Last Friday, we went camping near the South Fork river with our ward.

 With two playgrounds, a slow moving river, fields to play on and a healthy supply of friends, the camp proved itself to be family friendly. 

 

 

 

 

With the turn out better than expected, there was plenty of socializing to go around the dinner tables. One super fun Mom brought glow in the dark Moon Sand. I had never heard of it. Having taken her word for it that it was washable and non toxic,

"It's CRAYOLA, Ali."  Like, hello. How could I have doubted, right? ;)

... the kids had my blessing {read: who cares what Mom says, this stuff is awesome!} as they delved into the exciting mess of mystery product. They were glowing from head to toe in a matter of minutes. It was a definite highlight of their night.

For me, it was the time spent around the camp fire singing and laughing  that I liked most. Golly gee, I am old fashioned and lame, but those classic scenes of camp fire bliss make me feel warm inside and out.

As 9:00 p.m. rolled around, most of our {wise} friends left for home. For the small handful of us that stayed, bed time had arrived. Feeling tired myself, I volunteered to lay with Lottie as it was her first night out of a crib and/or pack and play ever. I repeat, 'ever.' I was optimistic that her night would go well as I watched her silently wave her green glow stick in the dark. Eliza and Henry were out in a matter of seconds. Lottie on the other hand, was to distracted by her fun toy. I positioned myself close so I could stare easily at her face.With quiet satisfaction, I watched as her lash laden eyelids aggressively fought her body's desire to sleep.

Sleeping children are beautiful. That, my friends, is an after thought. Truth be told, I was so distracted by the rapidly falling temperature that I forgot to bask in their peaceful glow. Instead, I checked and re-checked my kids to reassure myself that they were warm enough as well as ignored my bladder's plea to make another run to the bathroom.

Having no sleeping bag myself, I soon determined that my self made cocoon of blankets was failing me. I was frozen. I had every intention on filing a full complaint with the chief camper in charge, a.k.a my spouse, when he returned from socializing around the fire. However, before I could say, 'frozen burrito,' I was asleep. At midnight, he returned to the tent with an extra blanket. YES!!! Soon after he settled in, Lottie woke up.

She was distressed. We settled her as best we could but in a matter of minutes she was crying again. Apparently, she did not agree with Mom's idea to bundle her in similitude of Ralphie's younger brother Randy, from A Christmas Story. You remember the two brothers preparing to go outside? Randy was so bundled that he couldn't put his arms down? All he could do was cry and whine in frustration. That was Lottie.

She was warm... maybe too warm, confined and ticked off.

It didn't take long for us to decide that we didn't want to subject the rest of the campers to her tearful wails. Andrew offered to spare me the late drive back home. I accepted (Thank you!). And while I believed to have been given the better end of the deal, the cold was a beast. It was a long night.

Right, Henry?

Not everyone woke up grumpy. But then again, Eliza has always been my morning bird. The kids were out and about in a matter of minutes. As I tried my best to locate a pair of socks, Henry rushed back to the opening of tent.

"Mom! They are making French toast and hot coffee over there!" 

He was referencing the amazing group of men who assembled that morning to fix breakfast for the fair few who had stayed the night. Their service, humor and kindness was wonderful. I felt spoiled as I helped myself to a cup of hot chocolate. Henry just about had it right! :)

Don't worry. I'm asking myself the same question. WHY SO MUCH COMMENTARY?! It really isn't necessary. I still like writing.

By the way, a few posts back, I used the word, 'anecdote' when I had intended to write the word, 'antidote.' When I read over posts later and catch obvious and minor errors alike, I feel stupid. Just so you know, Mom. I'm sometimes aware.

After breakfast we returned to the fire where the kids ate smores. Naturally.

 

 It wasn't long until we were reunited with the rest of our family.

 

And that concludes the first half of our camping tale. Ha ha ha. I'll keep the rest quick, yes? Deal. Henry, Lottie and I headed back home for a soccer game while Andrew and Eliza packed up and went on a hike to watch the salmon run.

The hike wasn't as kid friendly as Eliza would have hoped, but I am proud of her after hearing Andrew's report of her (mostly) positive attitude. She told me it was worth it.

 That's right kids. You can't teach redneck. I sure love that girl.