Friday, July 11, 2014

At the Lake: Part Dos


grandma and grandpa
brother
cousin


This summer Jax lived in the sand right by the lake. He went straight down there every morning. Jonah, my little sidekick, hated it. I think he hated it more and more as the trip went on. I spent most of the time with him on my hip or handing him off to my mom. It is fun to have kids. It's fun to watch everything repeat with a new generation. On the other side of that, it's weird being the only one with kids sometimes. Part of me wishes everyone else would get married and/or get on it. All of me though, feels like my kids are lucky that so many people love them. Jax is constantly played with, Jonah is constantly talked to and held. Everywhere they turn, there is someone that loves them- someone to help them or stick up for them or be on their team or teach them. I'm glad we all grew up like that- and I'm glad my kids will too.

At the Lake: Part Uno



Our lakehouse. One of the best places in the whole entire world. It started out as a dusty dirt lot with a motorhome on it. That's where I had my third birthday and played Dick-duck-goose for the first time. Over the years, it has become the place we count down all winter to finally go to. We pack our bags with swimsuits and pajamas and head to the lake. It's five-hour-drive and the last hour is the longest. And still, I get excited when we turn the corner and can finally see it. Every summer, growing up, we have come here with our cousins. We'd all pack into cars with snacks and walkie-talkies. Right when we would get there, we would run down to the lake to feel the water with our feet, which I still do, every time. The grass has soaked up lots of melting popsicles and lake water from dumped lifejackets. And it's mowed every summer by my grandpa- holding a Diet Coke or sometimes a sleeping baby. We all learned to ski here and ride a wave runner. We have turtle races at the pond and go four-wheeling in the hills. We've snuck into the orchards and onto "secret" beaches. We've eaten lots of hot dogs and flank steak and watermelon. We've pull each other on rollerblades with jump ropes behind bicycles. We've built sandcastles and made "soup" with sand and lake water. On the Fourth of July we lay on the hills and eat pie and watch fireworks. We play kickball and make s'mores and eat my grandpa's buttermilk pancakes. We take lots of pictures of naked baby bums in sand and go through lots of sunscreen and aloe vera. We blast music and watch the boys wakeboard or play Crack-the-egg on the trampoline. It's where we made our first clubhouses- and climbed into our first tree fort- and opened our first "businesses" ($2 massages anyone?). We drive eleven hours from college for one weekend in the summer. We play kickball and jump off cliffs and swim to the deep part of the lake. We eat cherries in July and peaches in June and my grandma's cookies almost every day. We bathe the babies and rush to get a hot shower in the evening. We stay up late playing games and laughing. We are always sad to leave.

This was my first summer not bringing-a-boy-from-college-I-need-to-impress, not just-had-a-baby, and not pregnant. It was my first summer in a while I could do whatever I wanted! It was so nice. I wore my swimsuit and sweats and that's it! I never cooked- barely cleaned- and played all day. I stuck Jonah-with-a-naked-bum in the sand (which he hated), and taught Jax how to make lake soup. My grandma made pie and lots of cookies. My grandpa made homemade ice cream. I took Jax four-wheeling and we made lots of sandcastles. We found shells in the lake and fed the turtles. There were a few years back there I thought I couldn't build sandcastles anymore and look for shells in the lake. Now I have kids, so I get to start it all over again! Take me back.

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Just found this in my drafts! hmm.



How do I say this in a way that won't cause my mom to call me tomorrow thoroughly concerned?
I worry a lot. Not in an abnormal way- but in an i'm a mom and a wife and I want to do all of this right kind of way. I worry if my time with my kids is quality. If they watch too much TV. I worry if they're eating healthy enough. If I'm on my phone too much in front of them. I worry about them being inside too much and outside not enough. I wonder if I'm teaching them enough. I worry about them growing up. Gosh, am I sick of worrying about that. There has to be a way to be excited for the future- that's what I was thinking this week. It has to be possible to look forward to every stage without being sad.
And that is not all. I've been worrying about my house. Trying to figure out how we can budget to get all the crap done that I think needs to be done. Planning weekends where we will paint, and weekends where we will rest, and weekends where we will paint... and things seem like they will never end. Like it will never be done.
But then I was driving home from Albertson's on Tuesday and I had an epiphany! It was such a good one and I never have those. Right before driving home, I was paying for my food. And as I slid my card I thought about Jax's third birthday- what I needed to get, how to make it perfect, etc. pointless things that he will never remember/care about, etc. And how in the world would I do all that when I still needed to buy so many things to make our house "home." Girls our age feel pressure I think. Pressure for our houses and our kids birthday's and wardrobes (I've given that one up actually) to be at least the standard- but preferably better. And if you don't meet the standard, your failing in some way because it's possible to have a perfect house and clothes and kids and parties AND be the best mom/wife you can. But for me (and duh everyone else) it's impossible.

I love this lady.


This is what she says, 

“We women have a lot to learn about simplifying our lives. We have to decide what is important and then move along at a pace that is comfortable for us. We have to develop the maturity to stop trying to prove something. We have to learn to be content with what we are.” Marjorie Hinckley

Maturity to stop trying to prove something. And for the record, this isn't one of those to all girls everywhere posts, at all. It's just about me. I thought about my third birthday in the car. My mom had a cake and a pinata and probably bags of potato chips and it was the best birthday. I don't think there was any bunting or paper straws or invitations sent out or even a theme. 
I'm trying to act too old. That was my epiphany. No wonder I feel like my kids are growing too fast. No wonder I feel like I'm in the middle of my life. My house doesn't need to be done. My kid can have a birthday with potato chips and hot dogs. There is nothing to prove. It doesn't matter. It's cute that there is a huge hole in our shower because my husband ripped down the wall but doesn't know how to put it back up. He's only 26. I don't want to miss out on being young. I was looking at instagram the other day at this blogger's house. And I was thinking to myself that is my dream house. And I immediately appreciated mine less. I don't want to be like that. I want to compare or criticize or have to make myself feel better about that stuff. That would be a hard life. A long and unfulfilling life because someone will always have something better. And good for them. And who cares. It doesn't matter. 

Monday, June 30, 2014

I got my camera back!



Did I ever tell the story of when my brother borrowed my camera for a wedding and accidentally dropped it right in front of me? I had just gotten my food and was sitting down about to eat, when I heard a crash. I knew what it was before I even looked. I looked at my brother and both our faces turned red but I couldn't get too mad because he's my baby brother. But it was so horrible. I cried in my car that night. But now it's fixed! Right in time for the Fourth. I got it Friday. 

McKay's mission BFF came to spend the weekend with us. These boys are crazy. Who in the world would jump into the freezing ocean just to say they did it. Every summer at Girl's Camp, some of the girls would wake up at six to go down to the river to do the "Polar Dip." Why?! I never did it once. I guess I am either not cool (or I'm smart). For the record, my mom did it at camp when she was a teenager and when I asked her about it, she still seemed slightly proud haha. 

Anyways- Saturday morning we got ready and headed to the beach so these guys could jump off the dock into the freezing ocean. Right when they took their shirts off and walked to the edge of the dock, Jax immediately started stripping! It was hilarious. It was funny to watch them together. Sometimes I feel bad for dragging McKay to Washington. He misses his friends. I always try to prompt him to make friends here but they just never stick. They're never "the same." It was cute and slightly awkward at times to watch. After the beach we went to Pike Place...of course! Every time we go to Seattle, we wonder why we don't more often. Plus, Burke bought us these eclairs which I have been craving ever since- those things alone will get me down there! 
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