Summer Vacation

The girls started school last week, and Cal begin preschool this week. We are officially settled into the routine of fall, which gives me an opportunity to catch my breath and reflect on summer.

It was a busy and happy couple of months, in which we stayed up way past our bedtimes. Jack & I repainted the family and living rooms, hung curtains, and replaced light fixtures. The kids swam, completed the summer reading program, and discovered Legos.

And then there was our annual trek west to visit family. As always, this was not the highlight of our summer - It was the highlight of our year, which I hope justifies the following inundation of pictures.

Starting with this one -

This is the first picture I took on our way out of town, of Eddie leading the Dulles aerotrain toward our flight.

And this is the last picture I took, a month later, of Cal leading it back home.

The images are nearly identical, but they evoke very different memories. The first is exciting, and conjures the thrill of anticipating all the fun ahead. The second shot feels heavier, a combination of fatigue from a journey that ended at 2:00 in the morning, and the feeling we left our hearts behind. 

About halfway through our flight home Cal said, "Mom, can we ask the pilot to turn around and go back?" I told him we couldn't, but what we can do is count our blessings for the memories we made while we were there. 

Here are a few of my favorite - 

Prescott  

Our first stop was a stay in Prescott, Arizona, with Jack's family. My parents taught me that nothing beats a cabin vacation, and this was no exception to the rule. The weather and trees were beautiful. We visited on the porch, played games, assembled puzzles, ate buckets of peanut M&Ms, and gathered around the TV to watch Nik Wallenda tightrope across the Grand Canyon.

Everyone thoroughly enjoyed our stay there, unless of course you consider the animals that dared cross the paths of Cal, his Uncle Todd, and their BB guns. 

Cal ranks his Uncle Todd in the same category as Batman and Buzz Lightyear, and his hero worship was forever sealed when he presented him with his own gun and taught him how to use it. He took careful notes of the wisdom Todd imparted, which included things like, "Never shoot pretty birds Cal, only the ugly ones. That's called natural selection."

STATION 55

Prescott was also home to the 19 firefighters who were killed by the Yarnell wildfire the day after we left Arizona. 

When we arrived in Utah, we baked our best cookie recipes, boxed them up, and delivered them to Station 55 in West Jordan. The kids presented them to the firefighters and thanked them for their service.  I can't say the visit was entirely charitable, because just as they were enjoying the cookies and presence of our adorable children, we asked if they would be willing to stop by our 4th of July party and hose down the guests. They said yes!  

The fourth arrived and over 100 friends and neighbors were gathered, most of them children, all of them anxiously awaiting the truck. When it finally pulled up the street it was greeted with a hero's welcome. Posters! Cheers! Chants of "Station 55! Station 55! Station 55!" 

Less than a minute after getting out of the truck, the firefighters turned around, jumped back in, and drove away with lights flashing. Turns out they had received a call. Cal's face says it all.  

Alas, about a half hour later, another truck arrived from neighboring Station 53. The kids were overjoyed, and we were touched that the task had been considered critical enough to call in backup. God bless America. 

FOURTH OF JULY

Speaking of God blessing America, this was our fifth 4th of July spent at Jane's house and my Mom's, and I declare my independence from ever celebrating elsewhere! Slip and slide, bounce house, barbecue, friends, family and fireworks. I pledge allegiance to the Maples. 

14 Day Scruff  

It's also worth mentioning that Jack grew his annual vacation beard, and put it to good use by hiking Mount Timpanogas with the brothers in law, playing football, and going about town looking handsome.  

Cousins & Grandparents 

I will let the cousin pictures speak for themselves. How I love these kids, and how they love each other.  

most of the time 

I wish I had grandparent pictures to also speak for themselves, but I failed to take any. I think because each time they were being spoiled by their Grandma Susan, Grandpa Jack or Grandma D, I was off enjoying the free time it allowed me. 

Daneille taught the kids to play Uno at the cabin, and spent hours (hours!) in tournaments with them. She never turned down an invitation to play. Grandpa Jack would whisk them away for adventures. They would disappear for an entire afternoon and come home showing off Happy Meal toys and movie ticket stubs. Grandma Susan unveiled the newest version of GrandmaMall, which upped the ante from tickets to actual cash. When a grandchild earned their share, she would take them out for frozen yogurt and the store of their choice to spend on whatever they wished. 

Annual armband collection 

By the end of our trip, I don't think there was anywhere in Utah Jolie couldn't gain admission. 

Highlights included Airborne, Hollywood Connection, Jump and Bounce, and the Kearns Rec Center. The Hollywood Connection band stayed on the longest - 4 weeks and 1 day, for those keeping score. 

Lakes Lynx and Oquirrh 

Say that ten times fast! 

Lake Lynx, Prescott

Oquirrh Lake, South Jordan

Airports & Civil Rights Activists 

I actually really enjoy flying with the kids. I credit Jack, and his longstanding family policy that we arrive at the airport two and a half hours before takeoff. I thought it was extreme at first, but have come to appreciate the way it eliminates stress, and recommend everyone with kids do the same. We have a relaxing check-in, eat a leisurely  dinner, and let the kids go hog wild on the people mover so that by the time we board the flight everyone is ready to sit and rest. 

It also allows us time to make small talk with Reverend Jesse Jackson, who walked into the bathroom behind Jack and the kids at Chicago Midway. 

I don't take very good paparazzi shots. 

My sister Jane however, does. The sneaky airport picture that steals my heart is this one, which she took after she and my mom said goodbye in Salt Lake.  

Jane has a talent for photographing from the most interesting angles. This one is so artsy I think it leaves room for multiple interpretation - At first glance you look at the boy and feel pity, because he is so sad to leave his extended family behind. But on closer inspection you realize he is actually a boy to envy, because he is so lucky to have them. 

18 months

Eddie turned 18 months this week, which is my favorite age. 

Old enough to go along with my ideas, but too young to ask any questions. 

Kinderguardian

Leah graduated from kindergarten.

She and her classmates put on a performance, wherein they showed off their musical talents, and all the reading, math and Spanish they had mastered. 

She did a wonderful job

but was really only interested in showing off one thing.

Fortunately, Eddie didn't seem to mind at all. 

In fact, now that school is out, I think he's really looking forward to spending more time with her.

Halftime

Not sure when this happened - 

but today our Jolie turned nine. 

From a parent's perspective, I think nine is the most monumental childhood birthday, because it means we are halfway done raising her. Nine years ago today, she was born. Nine years from today, she will be an adult. As I told Jack, to put it in his terms -- The clock has run out on the first two quarters. Today is halftime. 

Like any committed coach, I think halftime should be spent reviewing the early plays of the game, and contemplating strategy for a victorious finish. So here goes - 

Jolie first joined our team as the most difficult player ever drafted. Colic, allergies, reflux, chronic ear infections. She spit up buckets, never slept for more than three hours at a a time, and screamed so often she was constantly losing her voice. Some days we didn't know whether to call the pediatrician, or an exorcist. 

By age two she completed her physical training by outgrowing most of her ailments, and was ready to be pulled from the bench and onto the field. Her helmet took the form of perfect blonde ringlets. I treasure my memories of Jolie's first quarter, because all the coaching was one-on-one. Jack and I were living a simple student life, and it completely revolved around our firstborn. We marveled at every play she made, and cheered on every step she took down the field. There is no counting how many hours we spent reading her books, pushing her on the swing, or following behind as she splashed along the Santa Barbara coast. 

At the end of the first quarter and into the second, Jolie was selected as team captain, as we drafted 3 new players into the league -

 #2, Leah Jane - 

#3, Calvin James - 

and #4, Eddie Jack - 

This forced her to take a salary cut, and her personal training hours were scaled back significantly. But, she quickly and naturally took on the role of star defensive player, always guarding and protecting the younger three.

Jolie calls the plays instinctively. In the mornings, when she hears Eddie cry, she scoops him out of his crib and entertains him while I take care of the others. When it's time to get on the bus, she helps Leah up and down the giant step, then walks her to class and won't let her leave without a kiss goodbye. After school she sits at the table with Cal and helps him practice his letters.

Not a day goes by that Jack and I don't wonder what we would do without Jolie in the league. As team owners, we have a hard time saying no when it comes to contract negotiations. Without even the help of an agent, her demands are almost always met - whether they be staying up late to watch Wipeout with Dad, signing up for hip hop lessons, or money to buy her own pink lemonade at Cafe Rio.

As we run toward the tunnel to celebrate her birthday, if a sideline reporter were to stop and ask how I'm feeling about the second half, I would say I'm optimistic, and a little emotional. Then I would go on a rant accusing the scorekeepers of speeding up the clock, because there is no way it has been 9 years already. 

These is my hashtags

Recently, I have developed a newfound appreciation for the book ‘These is my Words’ by Nancy Turner. If you haven’t read it, and I highly recommend you do, it’s the fictional story of Sarah Prine, a woman living in the Arizona territories in the late 1800’s. If you’re into things like Indian raids, nervous breakdowns, and amputation without anesthetic, and who among us is not, you’ll eat it up.

The book is written in the form of Sarah’s diary, the first entry dated when she was 17 and barely literate, and spans about 20 years.  By the time it ends, she has been married a time or two, birthed and buried babies, and finally learned how to put together an intelligible sentence. Then of course there is that dashing Captain Jack, swoon, but before I go spoiling the plot I will get to my point.

What I’ve come to appreciate recently about the book is that when it begins, and Sarah is an unattached teenage girl, the diary entries are frequent, and they are lengthy. She writes every day. Multiple times a day. Pages and pages. We get rich details of her daily life, challenges, dreams, joys.  

As time goes on however, and Sarah assumes the responsibilities of a wife and mother, the entries become increasingly brief and infrequent.

She will write once a week, then once a month, and soon only a few times a year, sometimes dropping in simply to mention that the Maldonado children have the measles, or that she is proud of the dress she sewed for her daughter, and of her son, who can now hammer nails into the wall, and “talk Mexican like he was a native.”

Then, another year will go by, and we will hear nothing except that, “A new decade will be upon us soon, and our family will greet it with another baby.”

My favorite excerpt from her journal, is this one:

“My life feels like a book left out on the porch, and the wind blows the pages faster and faster, turning always toward a new chapter faster than I can stop and read it” 

Yes Sarah! Katie Erb “likes” this.

My own book may be free from the threat of poisonous snakes, or tasked with churning butter and fighting off bandits with a shotgun, but the wind blows my pages still, at a rate of speed that never ceases to amaze me.

Like Sarah, the more deeply entrenched in family life I’ve become, the more brief and infrequent the chapters I write. I imagine the posterity of our generation digging up our memoirs, and finding lengthy blog posts that gave way to Facebook status updates and eventually, Instagrams. From these is my words, to these is my hashtags. 

The book helped put into perspective for me, the value of any effort we put into documenting the lives of our families - no matter how brief, infrequent, or inconsistent. Even a picture or two a year, accompanied by a few thoughts here and there, can add up to over the course of a lifetime to tell a remarkable story.

I think sometimes we're paralyzed by the idea of all or nothing - Either we keep an organized, current, consistent record of our lives and our children, or we don't bother keeping one at all. I think I would do well to take a page from Sarah's book and start embracing the concept of brevity. (Nevermind the fact that my post about brevity has ended up being eleven paragraphs long.)

When the pages of my life are blowing quickly in the wind, and I want to remember them as best I can, I'm going to upload for my posterity whatever is on my memory card, with nothing more than a word or two.

Like this. Here a few highlights from our last six months.

“My life is so full of wonderful things right now...Mama told me to make a special point to remember the best times of my life. There are so many hard things to live through, and latching on to the good things will give you strength to endure, she says. So I must remember this day."

-Sarah Prine, These is my Words.

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