More from the Graduation.....

Thoughts from my 9 year old....

Sunday night, sitting on the bed, Connor came into my room kind of somber and this is what came out of his mouth (nearly word for word) my son is a very deep thinker, an old soul.....

Mom I was just thinking, about how I have all these nice things, nice parents and good friends, and the animals that live on earth that I think that are cool. I think about how the pioneers settled the land for us and how all the army men are out there risking their lives so that we can be free. (tears streaming down his face) Our earth is so nice. I don't like construction guys who build 5 star hotels and ruin the habitat of the animals. I think about these things all of the time. Im happy that Thomas Edison made the lightbulb so that Im not afraid of the dark. Mom where are our ancestors from? I said England and Denmark, and Scotland. Do we have any Native americans in our family? "no i reply". So then Im not american? Well you were born in America so you are American. "but my heritage isn't". (Deep thoughts) His sweet thoughts had Ashlee and I in tears. Such big things to be thinking about at 9 years old. Im touched by his gratitude and realize that he is paying attention to big issues.

Im not sure if its a Martindale thing or if others say "Oh I have to wake up at the butt crack of dawn." Connor said recently, "Mom we shouldn't say that anymore." "Why?" "Well, grandpa Martindale's name is Don and when you say "the butt crack of dawn" people will think we are talking about his butt crack. Haaa. his brain is a curious thing.

THE GOWN

I will never forget the day....July 8 1991. My belly was bursting, I thought she would never come out. Was it possible to be pregnant forever? Once she arrived I thought she would never grow up, at least not all of the way.  But the minutes turn into hours, then days, months, years, and one day......They come home with a shiny square cardboard hat carefully covered in the school spirit colors and a gown to match.  I brought her home from the hospital in a gown, a sweet little layette in cotton candy pink pastel. I loved her little gowns, she wore them almost everyday. They look like infants longer in the layette gowns.. As I was ironing the polyester grey gown of graduation, I couldn't comprehend how 18 years had slipped through my fingers. 

When a baby is born, they cut the cord because the baby no longer needs the blood supply of the mother. But there is an invisible cord that takes it's place, You can't see it or touch it, but every mother knows it's there. I know that It's time to set her free, but this kind of cord cutting hurts much worse than the labor pains. There is also the extreme joy that is so much like the joy you feel when you meet them for the first time. Once a mother, always a mother, and then a grandmother and if you are graced with a lot of good years, then you will pose for the 4 generation photo as great grandmother. Ashlee, congratulations! As the good book (dr. seuss) say's, you have brains in your head and feet in your shoes, you can go any direction you choose!!

Whatever the path, I will always be here with my not to be humble opinions, and love that will span the circular time of past, present and future!! You make me proud Smashlee!! 

Wheheww!!! class of 2009....We both made it. (My twitches have almost stopped)

P.S. we never grow up all the way! That's what makes life so sweet.

Kid Trapped

I've spent the last 18 years "Kid trapped"  {good excuse anyway}. We had Ashlee and Ian, and then an 8 year gap when connor joined us, three years after that Sydnie made our crew complete. But you see, when they are all so spread out, there is always a baby. UNTIL NOW!! 

We went for a weekend at our Solitude Condo, and like a bad habit, I waffled about skiing. Im way to old, never really tried, don't have the gear, blah blah blah...

John went down to our storage lockers to get Ashlee's snowboard and other bits and pieces, but returned with a deal breaker. He handed me a single ski boot and told me to try it on. {??} K..

"how does it feel?" I said "I think it fits, what am I to do with it?? He said "Get dressed love, you are skiing today!" Hmmm?? What?? He said that there was a sign in the locker room.."Free skii's and boots to a good home." My heart was racing, Crap, how do I get out of this?? I was so scared.  I was scared that the "free skii's"  would be ugly, rusted out, fashion Don'ts!! But also scared that my orphaned skiis would carry me to a certain cold icy death.  Did I ever mention how much I hate being cold?? When I get cold, my appendages literally go numb. My bones feel like frozen Ice spears, and It takes major effort to warm up!! But my heart warmed when I met my new free skii's. They were actually kind of cute. Turquoise blue with yellow bits, I felt like they looked good with my hodge podge ski outfit!! The universe aligned that day, it was with great trepidation that I strapped on these "kind of cute" death sticks to my robot feet. I was hand in hand with my 6 year old sydnie scootching along in the snow arriving at the bunny hill ski lift. I asked the lift operator to please stop the chair, I just knew it would catapult me into outerspace. We made it up just fine. Stopped the lift again at the top to dismount and then with great courage, and my 6 year old by my side, we began our decent down the bunny hill. {it felt like a black diamond to me just so ya know} and then.....the magic. I managed to stay upright, took to the "pizza and french fry concept" and felt the wind in my face. I was instantly addicted. What fun, pure joy, and then it hit me... What the Crap!!! how many years have I waisted staying in the condo or lodge, or home for that matter. It was an awakening that could only come as I near 40. After 3 runs on the bunny hill, I needed more. We braved the moonbeam run, much steeper and faster and funner!! And yes... I am still kid trapped, will be for years to come, difference. Traded in changing diapers for skiis, and the kids make great companions on the hill.  I need to work out my ski outfit. In this picture, I feel like the kid in the "Christmas story". I borrowed Ian's goggles. They were way to big. They kind of pinched my nose closed. Thank goodness we have a mouth for a back up plan {or I would have suffocated}. I had so much fun, I took Syd and Connor up the next weekend by myself. Yes people It's true, I loved it that much!! My 40's will rock!! Yay!!

The prize at the end of the hike

Zions Canyon

This view is only 4 hours away from our house. 
How old do you think this tree stump is?? very cool...
Check out the ginourmous marshmallows. Ewww. barely edible. 

Underground lava caves

We spent our easter holiday in St. George.  As I quickly approach 40, I find myself becoming more adventurous and curious.  My goals for this year include exploring nature, get off the park bench or out of the car and use my legs to take me places I've never been. We went to the lava flow outlook in snow canyon. Word on the street was that this lava flow area was hiding large underground caves and tunnels. Armed with a flashlight and crappy shoes we ventured out. The opening in the second photo descends about 20 feet down and then opens up into a giant cave inside the belly of the earth. Without a flashlight, it is total darkness. The picture of me illustrates how dark it really is. (this would be an excellent backdrop for a photographer) The third picture almost looks like a holy sight. The sunlight from above illuminated this lava rock. Im so glad I had my camera. This was a most excellent adventure. One of many on our trip. 

Lola the other sister

I've never been much of a dog lover. As a kid growing up in a small farming town, a dog was an out door creature. When the dog became annoying or what ever... it went for a "drive".  I know!  It's sad, but I learned not to bond. It was wilbur without charlotte to save the day. It was a random day, the kids had been begging for a dog. I said NO NEVER AGAIN!! They poop and barf in the house, they are just plain gross. Farting, peeing, not my style...I was looking out the kitchen window and saw the tallest man with a leash in his hand walking the smallest little dog. I laughed out loud. The most mismatched dog owner and dog I had ever seen. I ran out of the house to ask about this curious sight. The man introduced me to his little yorkie friend and told me how great they are. Poop is small, pee too. Barfing...not so much...small. Hair not fur, they don't get ugly when they grow up. Small....3 weeks later, I loaded the kids in the car and found myself driving far away about an hour or so to find an address in the paper that said "Female Yorkie" Small......And that's when "The other sister" joined our crew.  When some one ask's the kids how many are in your family, they always include Lola as their sister. She really is almost human. She talks in her funny dogish way, she is full grown and Small.....Cute and a true joy.  

Photos from London and Paris.

Behind on the blogging. But really this is more of a family record of events so I guess an out of order posting isn't such a big deal right?? My photo gallery from the Charger vs Saints at Wembley stadium and my trip to Paris.

My dad

This is my original photograph......

This is the painting! (I know!!)

My dad is such a talented man. He can build a house, do all of the electrical, plumbing, wiring, fixing. He can build a car, fix a car, he can make any old car run. My dad can make use of any old junk. He is the master of trash to treasure. My Dad can paint!! with oil. Im blown away at his talent. He can paint a masterpiece in a day. I offered him a challenge. I wanted him to paint something for me. There is a castle in Scotland. The Ailsa Craig castle. It is a favorite spot for John and I. Last summer I took a picture from the perfect angle, and forwarded my dad a copy. I wanted a painting. It's a masterpiece a true treasure. My dad can paint! It's intuitive for him. He hasn't taken a class.  I want to paint. Can I paint? Dad will you teach me how? is it in my DNA? I want to know. I stand in awe!! 

Mom you are Santa!

                         

Sydnie's first Christmas with her Grandpa "Santa" praying over

her cradle. She will always believe!!

 

Well.....it's over. Connor is totally on to me and knows that I am Santa. Last year I made a believer out of him, by leaving a muddy boot print trail from the fire place all the way to the living room. I got the soles of John's boots wet and dipped them in potting soil, I proceeded to trash my tile floor to "prove" that Santa was real. I reminded Connor of the evidence. He said "Oh yeah, that was you, I'm sure you used one of dad's boots" Dang.. he didn't let me down easily he just threw a one two punch strait in the gut. But what am I to expect? the poor kid is going to get clobbered on the play ground if he keeps telling the guys that Santa comes down a gas fireplace chimney because he is "Magic". So here I am 3 down and one to go. Syd is 6, how long will she believe? Will the magic be gone when she has the same realization? Or does the focus just change? I'm mixed. Part of me thinks that the preparations would be much less stressful when everyone knows that we are just exchanging gifts from each other. But the other part of me is sad that that magic on Christmas morning is kind of gone... or is it? Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Jesus. How often are we remembering that when we are racing to get the 50% off the latest gadget with an extra 15% off if you show up at 3am? My dream...would be to donate all of our Christmas budget to someone in great need. That would keep the focus on the Savior. Reality....I helped to create the consumer crazy monster that fills the living room floor with mostly crap that goes into the trash and then off to the land of lost toys.. Really i think its about balance. Even though Connor has totally dissed Santa, he remembered last year when Grandpa Don dressed up like "Santa" and we all delivered Christmas to refugee families. I was so over come with true joy when he reminded me of his memory. He was feeling that spirit of the Savior this year as we offered Christmas to other families. So even though my Christmas monster reared its ugly head, I realized that the magic of Santa was really being paralleled with the belief of the gift of our Savior. Connor could not tell you what he got from Santa last year, but he can tell you what his "Santa" (grandpa) gave to others last year. This year "Santa" had open heart surgery. John's dad has been a professional Santa for years. He has been hired to work in malls throughout the country. Our Santa has given so much joy and magic to both adult's and children. We are most grateful this christmas to have a healthy recovering Santa. His heart needed repair because it has spent a life time giving pure joy to everyone. Now with renewed energy and the generous donation of a wonderful pig valve, our grandpa will continue to offer his gift of love and hope for many more years.  This has been my greatest gift this Christmas. I will enjoy what few years Sydnie has left believing and then I don't know. I'm sure it's a natural evolution that prepares us for things to come... (grand kids?) Nah.. not yet.....I'm grateful to have the knowledge of the sacrifice of Jesus. I'm grateful for the magic of Santa, and the magic of the Savior. Most of all, I'm grateful for my family. I am a blessed woman to be surrounded by such fabulous spirits!!  

And to all of you... blessings and light for this new year.

"That's right!" Im 6. Practically an adult. I'm really a 25 year old squished into this pint sized body. Geez...

So I planned my party. My mom followed my direction. (Thought she was loosing it when she had the kids doing a Zen meditation. She is old, can't handle the noise.) So I wanted a pajama party. I wanted cupcake's. (The Costco cakes are overrated.) I wanted to watch Kung-fu-Panda. And I wanted to color. That's it. Easy breezy.

My mom finally got me that cupcake

maker that I see on every commercial.

It was so much fun. You get to make

ONE cupcake at a time. It took me an

hour to make 4. My mom said she could

have made 4 dozen the old-fashioned

way. I say, get with it mom. We live

in 2008 where "One at a time is IN"

This is what my Mom calls "Crowd Control !" We went with it. She's kinda crazy but I still love her.

These are my girls, all 16 of us. We are the future. We will rule a small country for sure!

So my Auntie Monica showed up

with her horse Smokey. He came

right into the garage. What a totally

rockin Birthday surprise. He even

pooped on the driveway. It was

awesome watching my Dad be the

pooper scooper. LOL.

Oh and the best story....

My 9 year old brother Connor thought he would show off. He went in the other room and in-hailed helium from a balloon. He held his breath until he got in front of the girls. Then without warning he passed out. He fell really hard, was totally loopy and dizzy. Talk about live entertainment!. My mom called poison control. She was worried that he might start levitating during the middle of the night from to much inhalation. (J.K. she was really worried cuz his stomach hurt and he was dizzy) The dude from poison control told him that in-hailing helium is dangerous. Don't think he will do that again. Duh!

K. gotta run. Happy Birthday to me!