Book Club Calendar 2013

I've been hosting a book club for four years now. I still really love it and am so happy that we still have faithful members, new and old. In case you need some book ideas for the year, here is what we are reading.

Del Sol Ragnar

Complete Ragnar #2. Check. A few weeks ago we loaded up the cars and The Real Housewives of Palm Springs set out to complete our second 202 mile relay race from Wickenburg to Scottsdale, Arizona in a day and a half. We had an amazing trip and it was A LOT easier this time. I think we were all in better running shape and knew how to prepare ourselves a bit better for the emotional turmoil it puts you in to run three times in a day and a half, on no sleep, while surviving on whatever random treats you stocked in the car.

Before we left I kept thinking, we don't have to do something so dramatic just to have an excuse to do a girls trip, but after returning, I'm so glad that this is what we did. As moms, we do hard things all the time. We wear ourselves out. We go through emotional days with our kids. We feel like we aren't going to be able to finish our job the way we want to. At risk of sounding like a contestant on The Bachelor who claims that bungie jumping is a perfect analogy for falling in love, in crazy way the Ragnar is a good comparison for mothering and is proof positive that when you stretch yourself beyond what you thought you were capable of it is always astounding to think how much more you could do than you thought. Nostalgic, I know, but it really was a great trip and learning experience. And yes, I got weepy many times. I am really emotional, in a good way—I hope—when I run.

All that said, here are my favorite quotes from our van on the trip:

"I'm a very fearful person, Marci." Dayna

"You look like Angel Moroni with that." Tara to Monica while blowing her horn.

"I do pay attention when I text and drive." Jenie

"This is a great wind breaker, in a good way." Dayna

"2.5 is running on a level surface." After a conversation on how I trained at an incline of 2.5 in preparation for my hilly runs on the treadmill. Marci

"I think I'm preparing for a famine." Discussing the amount of food she has been eating. Monica

"Redo." Tiff

"We're popping Ibuprofen. I'm breaking ice packs. I'm swearing. It was a whole big ordeal." Dayna greeting me after my 2nd run.

"If I fall asleep, I may fart. Just warning." Monica

"I can't get on the bumper." Monica "I'll give you a boost." Dayna

"I'm going to get that SAD disease from running in the dark so much." Dayna

"Let's just get this done." Tiff

"I look, not angelic, but like a white devil angel." Dayna

"I just got my fifth wind." Jenie

"Tiff, you freaking had a baby in a car. You can do this!" Tara

"Squirrel!" Jenie

"I'm telling you, Ragnar Rapist!" Dayna

I blinked and she turned four.

The day after Christmas Kennedy turned four. Ever since, I have been thinking about what I wanted to write to remember about her being three. Three was particularly scrumptious on Kennedy. I really love this age when kids are old even to communicate almost anything, but everything that comes out of their mouth has a first-time-its-ever-been-said feel to it. They are so fresh, open-eyed, trusting and confident and all of this is true for my Kens.

Kennedy loves clothes. She goes through multiple outfits each day. At the beginning of the year, she would literally wear ten different outfits a day, but now we are down to about three—not including dress-ups. I wouldn't quite call her a fashionista, because I would think that you would have to have style or even just a simple coordination of colors, fabrics, or accessories for that, but she definitely has a point-of-view. She picks all her clothes now. I have just given up. She cares so much about it that it is really hard for me to protest. I sort of love wondering what she will walk out wearing each morning.

While she loves clothes, she detests sleeves, pants, or even socks. This works, for the most part, in a primarily warm climate, but getting her to wear warm clothing is a struggle. We settle on layers. She is warm-blooded, for sure. At night, Claire will be snuggled under several blankets while Kennedy sleeps in flimsy little pajamas and then throws off all the blankets. I love to see her sprawled out with arms hanging off the bed and one leg propped against the other at night.

Kennedy tells "stories" right now. I hate to call them lies because when pressed she will tell you that she is just pretending or imagining, but there are a lot of mysterious friends, play dates, places she has visited out there. Claire is very factual about Kennedy's "stories" and spends a lot of time scrutinizing these stories for truth and error.

My girl has daily quotables. At night, Dave asks for stories of what the kids said or have done and Kennedy typically has several. She asked me to put her hair in a bun the other day as she was going to a party and was "going to be eating cake". On Claire's birthday, she said in her prayer, "Bless CC on her, wait a minute, let me count, and then counting on her fingers, 'One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six', sixth birthday." In the car the other night, Kennedy asked Dave to turn on the internal lights. When he asked why she said, "So I can find my bummy". Dave told her that she didn't need a light to find her bottom. A minute later, she shouts out, "I found one!" and then a minute later laughing, "I found another one!".

Kennedy still loves her blanket, but has added a stuffed mouse, Razzle Dazzle, to her comfort objects. Of all the stuffed animals she could attach too, she choose one that her dad won for her out of a vending machine.

I asked Claire what she likes about Kennedy and she said she likes that she is kind. She really is kind. She is a mother at heart and a protector. She looks out for David and Claire. She makes sure that their needs are being met. She gets David food, leads him by hand away from dangerous situations and rubs his back when he gets hurt. She comforts Claire when she is upset, will take the higher road in disagreements with her and is always ready to forgive.

Kennedy is very independent, in many ways more independent than Claire. It amazes me the things she can do on her own. I would never test it, but I am sure she could survive in our home for weeks on her own (or at least until the food ran out) and maybe even take care of David while doing it. She has even changed David's diaper. She tried a poopy diaper the other day, but quickly discovered she was in over her head.

Kennedy asks for "X's and O's", hugs and kisses. Claire taught her this, but Kennedy is keeping it alive. I am loving her coming to me and asking for four X's and fours O's, "cuz I'm four years old". I can't squeeze her or love her enough. She is a gift in our home.

Christmas Nativity 2012

For Christmas this year, we got together all of the Thatcher California cousins for a Nativity photoshoot with the amazing Rachelle. Rachelle did this with her family several years ago and created a photo album book with the script for the book taken from Christmas story contained in Luke 2 in the New Testament.  Since I saw hers I have been dying to do my own. The stars aligned this year with a cast including a perfectly behaved and cute newborn (thanks Brent and Melissa), two adorable three year olds, two cooperative and very reverent for the moment (miraculously) five year olds, and two "big" kids that still weren't too "big" to have fun with the idea. There was one missing link, a 20-month-old without a nap, with a crazy cold and little respect for the concentration and introspectiveness that it takes to be a sheep, or a wise man.

The book turned out so well and I know that we will treasure it always.

Six Years of You

Dear Claire,

I told you the other day that if I was in Kindergarten with you, I think I would have chosen you for my best friend. I like your ways, sweet girl. You are shy in public, but never at home and definitely not around your close friends. You watch closely. You make wise remarks. You ask insightful questions and like to listen to the answers. Sometimes you also just ask questions to keep the conversations flowing. I love to listen to you and Kennedy asking each other these type of questions, from "What do you like better a quesadilla or French toast?" to "What do you think runs faster a cheetah or a chipmunk? (followed by giggles)".

You are conscientious and can stick to a task for hours. The way that you will painstakingly work on a drawing amazes me and your dad. You remember every detail—a dog's tongue hanging out while it is running after a rabbit, a condensation trail behind Santa's sleigh, the exact slant of a peacock's eye (yes, you drew all of these pictures and many more). You rise early and start your day with art. The rule is you must produce two drawings before you can wake up mom and dad and some of your best work comes from these early morning art sessions.

You are taking the piano and just had your first piano recital. The piano is hard for you to learn and while practicing the other day you complained that the notes on the staff all looked like "lines and circles". They do, yet you stick with it and I love to see that furtive glance at me when you know that you have played a piece perfectly. Once you can play it perfectly, practice becomes a breeze. You like to show off what you have learned.

You really like us, particularly Kennedy. I hate to even think that there may come a time when you won't for awhile, but for now revel in the fact that you want us all around. I asked you one day what your favorite part of school was and you replied "homework". I liked to think that it is because we do your homework together. You miss Kennedy and me during the day, and maybe even David and we miss you. Kennedy cried inconsolably the day you started school repeating "And now I have NO ONE!".

You love your chickens: Speedy, Bubblegum, Silky and Whiskey Pete. You are the best wrangler in the house and when you catch them you give them lots of snuggles and kisses. You feed them our table scraps and laugh when they eat spaghetti which you think they think are worms.

You use prayers to preach to your younger sister with statements like, "If Kennedy is really sick bless her to feel better, if she is not bless her not to lie" and "Please bless that Kennedy won't get water out of the fridge during the prayer".

This was an easy year for you. There wasn't a lot of drama associated with five. Not many tears, except daily when we comb your hair. Not many angry moments, although you can perfectly replicate my too loud "Errr!" when you are frustrated. There was just a lot of growing up and becoming more of the sweet little girl you are.

I love you wholeheartedly, my little one.

Mom

MERRY CHRISTMAS

For Hate is Strong

I've been listening to Christmas songs for weeks now, just wanting to fill my soul with Jesus and the peacefulness of His birth and His life. Unintentionally, I even quit reading the news and life has slowed down for me this Christmas season and grounded me to the real reason I celebrate. Today, I felt unwillingly catapulted back into the world and the brutality and hatefulness that exists. Today, a young man killed 28 people, including 20 children in an elementary school in Connecticut. It is unimaginable on so many levels and has happened too many times in our world.

After I heard, I came home and made sure all my doors and windows were locked and then pulled my little ones close to me. I hugged them extra hard, lingered with them over lunch and read every word and even added a few to their nap time books. I just wanted to treasure them. I just wanted them to feel safe and loved, even though they are unaware of what horrific events that occurred today.

Then I sat down to work, my mind still fixating on the sketchy details of the murder scene. I couldn't focus and kept thinking about how many in our world are "past feeling" and wondering what I could do to shelter my little ones from this reality. I turned back to my Christmas songs to seek some serenity. My mind was still running and despite the Christmas songs streaming, I couldn't focus on the lyrics but instead another stanza of a song filled my mind.

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along th’unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head:
“There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.”

These last words kept filling my mind, “For hate is strong and mocks the song of peace on earth, good will to men.” I just had to sit there with that for a long time, think about it, and let it play over and over in my head. I had to agree that hate is strong and there are those that mock true seekers of peace and enduring happiness. There are those that are so "past feeling" that empathy, love, compassion, sorrow for sins and forgiveness are emotions that no longer occur for them. They are hollow. Their feelings shallow and only skin deep. They are obsessed with self, with vindication, with spite, with that which does not "live" and ultimately with hate. They have let these emotions run uncontrolled in their lives to the point that they are all encompassing. Before I could get swallowed up in worry and sadness about our world today and our future world, the next words of the song leapt loudly out at me.

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men.”

Till, ringing, singing, on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,
Of peace on earth, good will to men!

And again, the peace that only Christ, Jesus, can bring to my life returned. I breathed it in deeply. There is a plan. God will prevail. The power of love is immense and can heal lives, mend wounds and bring life. I'm so grateful for the Prince of Peace this day.