"Firsts"

We had our first snow of the season this week.

I couldn't decide which emotion was stronger:  the giddy feeling I had while watching the flakes fall, or the nauseous feeling I had as I realized that this is the beginning of winter.  This fall has been spectacular and I am not ready to let it go just yet no matter how exciting the first snow storm is.

Fortunately, it didn't snow too much.  In fact, there was just enough snow on the ground that Isaac was able to build the first snowman of the season.

I love this little snowman.  He stands less than a foot tall.  I love his squat little body and the crooked expression on his face.  I love the two sticks outlining a vest and the handsome buttons on his belly.  I love that when Minnie saw it, she went nuts barking at the intruder in our yard.  Mostly, I love that it was made by this boy, who is full of enthusiasm and creative ideas:

I can't say enough about Isaac and his goodness and cheerfulness and his exuberance.   He makes everything in our family more fun.  No wonder we all love this darling boy.

Fall Break

Last week, along with every other school-aged child in Utah, our kids had their Fall Break.  Andrew and I debated for awhile about what we wanted to do while the kids had a few days off school.

At one point we considered making a quick trip to California.  We could hit Disneyland, the beach and come back home.  It would be quick, but it could be fun.  The more we talked about, the less enthusiastic I became.  I wanted to do something fun but lacked the energy that is required for even a "quick trip."

After further discussion, we decided to stick closer to home.  Instead of a 12-hour drive to Cali, we opted for a 20-minute drive to Park City and had an amazing couple of days up there.

We spent one night at Hotel Park City which was so fun and pretty fancy for this family of seven.  The weather could not have been more beautiful.  The sky was the most spectacular color blue, the sun was shining and all around us the leaves were brilliant shades of yellow, orange and red.  It was warm enough that the kids spent several hours swimming in the hotel pool while all around them were signs of autumn.

Not a bad place to spend a couple of days.

Love the expression on her face.

Unfortunately, I forgot to pack Lucy's swimsuit (totally typical of me) 

so her pool time was spent in a onesie.

After a fun day of swimming and a "relaxing" dinner with our friends and their four kids,  we went back to our hotel and all the kids piled into the huge jetted tub for a family bath.  Unfortunately, none of those pictures are appropriate for this blog, but believe me, it was a great time and the kids felt like they were living in the lap of luxury as they soaked, floated and swam in the tub.  

Peter was quite comfortable in his plush surroundings and following the bath, 

he spent much longer than necessary walking around our hotel room wearing only this towel.

After the bath, we all snuggled in bed under a big down comforter and watched a movie.  It was so cozy and fun as we enjoyed a night together with no distractions.  

The next day was much of the same.  Swimming in the pool, a picnic at the park with friends, pizza party with friends and more friends, and then a sleep over at our friends' condo.  On our way home after just two nights away, we drove up over Guardsman's Pass and ooohed and ahhhed at the glories of fall.

After all the discussion that had gone into our Fall Break plans, it ended up being perfect.  We didn't have to travel far and we were able to relax, spend time with great friends and enjoy being together as a family.  That's what taking a break is all about and sometimes there really is "no place like home."

Siblings

Big news here in our house this week.

Lucy started walking!

She walked around a little on Sunday afternoon and then, on Monday morning, (her 17-month old birthday) she really decided that it was time to walk.  So, ever since Monday, our Lucy has been a walking girl.

Anyway, a few days ago, I sent  Lucy and Peter outside to entertain each other and take care of Minnie.  (Is that too much to ask of a three-year-old and 17-month old?)

Peter and Minnie had a great time "walking" each other around the yard.

As funny as it was to watch Peter and Minnie, the real attraction was watching Lucy follow Peter everywhere he went.  It was so adorable, it made my heart melt. When Peter walked down the hill, Lucy would waddle after him her face beaming with adoration.  When Peter walked along the front walk, Lucy would waddle after him. She was bound and determined to keep up with her brother - and the sweetest thing about it, was the way Peter made sure she could keep up.

If Peter noticed Lucy was lagging behind, he would slow down so she could catch up.  He would call her name so she would know where he was, and if she fell, he would help her up.  It was so sweet, I had to grab my camera to try to capture that moment.

Just as I got out there, Peter had reached out to steady Lucy and I took this picture.

I love the expressions here; the proud and mindful older brother, and the absolutely adoring and grateful baby sister.  

When I was little, I always wished I could have a big brother and I was pretty sure that if I did, this is exactly how I would feel about him.  Lucky Lucy has three older brothers who look out for her and protect her - and this is how she feels about every one of them.  Yep, Lucky Lucy - Lucky Brothers.

*To further confirm the adoration these two have for each other, today Peter said, "Lucy, you are the bestest girlfriend I ever had."  (October 17, 2010)

David at 40

I was running some sort of car pool errand this afternoon when I got a text message from Paul that seemed to stop me in my tracks and take me somewhere else.  "David would be 40 today."

I never knew David, but I've always known David.  David is both a symbol and also a reality to me. David Giles Florence is my older brother who was born 40 years ago today, on October 7, 1970, several months premature, and died 2 days later.  From a young age he helped me understand a little bit about mortality and about eternity, about birth, life, death and resurrection.  We grew up visiting his tiny grave in Provo, reminding us, of his short time on earth, and that we would someday be reunited with him again.   I have thought about him throughout my life, sometimes more than others.  There were times when I was young when I assumed he was watching over me, and was aware of choices I was making and things I was saying.  Sometimes I still do.  He seemed to be an additional conscience at times--it never hurt.  I always pictured, and still do, that the rest of the siblings watched from above as he came into the world, a little too soon, to a barely 21 year old mother far from home, who would have given her own life to preserve his.  We must have mourned with mom and dad as they laid him to rest.  Yet we must have rejoiced in his purity and his expedited leap through the Lord's plan.  His mortal journey began and ended almost immediately.   When we are reunited with him in resurrection we will have so much more to answer for than he will.  He was a noble and great spirit who did not seem to have to prove himself or progress much at all.  He never had to act in faith, never had to repent, never had to struggle, or overcome.  His brief brush with earth gave him the body he would one day be resurrected in, and the rest was taken care of.   While I have inherited the same divine potential, it is more of a process.   I am thankful for the reminder he is of where I came from, and why I am here, and where I am going.  I look forward to someday claiming him, and am determined he will be eager to claim me.

Regarding mortality, today has been a day of some reflection.  I lost a patient last night.  He was 75 years old and came in by ambulance with his wife.   He was very unstable and appeared to have pneumonia - advancing to septic shock.  He was very pleasant and so was his wife.  He seemed to be responding to treatment, when he suddenly arrested.  His breathing stopped and he was pulseless.  Likely a bood clot to the lung.  After vigorous resuscitation it seemed that he may pull through, but quickly it became apparent that it was futile.  His wife was there throughout.  She could tell what was happening, but I still had to tell her.  In the end all I could do was hug her and tell her I was sorry.  For some reason I told her, "I don't know when exactly the spirit leaves the body, but you can hold his hand for awhile if you want to."  She did.  It is one thing to have an unresponsive patient brought in by ambulance, but it is a different story to have a patient be in the hospital talking to you and then die.  The former is quite common, while fortunately the latter is quite rare, and obviously much more personal.  It was then her job to gather their children and tell them.  I had to go out and finish my shift.

When I got home Elizabeth showed me a blog post of an amazingly strong person we know who has exhausted his medical and surgical options in his fight against end stage metastatic skin cancer.  I met him in my second grade class and we have crossed paths occasionally since then.  He is my age, has three young children and yesterday he shared these words:

"Although my mortal life has been shorter than I had hoped and anticipated, I have been greatly blessed. I have a truly remarkable wife; three bright, good children with great potential; faith in the Resurrection and eternal family relationships; six siblings who have loved, challenged and helped shape me; parents and in-laws who have loved, encouraged and cared deeply for me; great, faithful, loyal friends; wonderful business associates: and more than a few sacred times when I have known, by the Spirit, who I really am, the purposes of life, and the truths of eternity. I'll be just up the trail and around the bend..."


I have shed a few tears today and thought about things that are, and that might have been, and that will be.  David at 40.  I wonder what David would have been like as an older brother here, what he would have been like growing up, what he would have been like as a son, as a father, as a friend.  Someday I will know.  I am thankful today for my parents, for eternal families, and for my Savior.

Pretty in Purple - Lucy in Lavender

I took this picture of Lucy today.  It was a beautiful autumn day and we were out in the garden.  She looked so cute sitting next to the petunias that matched her dress, I couldn't resist pulling out my camera.

This picture reflects so many of the endearing things about Lucy.  I love her wispy blonde hair and her dark brown eyes (although her left eye is markedly darker than her right eye.)  I love the shape of her little mouth and the curve of her eyebrows. I love her rosy cheeks and her perfect baby complexion.  I love those earlobes just begging to nibbled.

But most of all, I love her little hands - gently grasping a delicate flower while dirt still clings to her fingers and nails - perfect evidence of her continual exploring and dirt digging.  She is a perfect little lady with a major streak of curiosity.

This is my Lucy and I think she is grand.

Baby Feet and Baby Steps

When Lucy was born, one of the first things I noticed - once I got past her perfectly shaped fuzzy little head, her fat little cheeks, her darling little rosebud mouth, and her angelic newborn eyes - was the size of her tiny newborn feet.

I have always loved the feet of newborns.  On all my children, I have studied their little feet and wondered where those feet would tread and where they would eventually take my children throughout their lives.  With Lucy, my thoughts included those sentiments, but as I studied those feet, my initial thought was:

"How will she ever learn to walk on those tiny feet?"

Seriously, her feet were bitty.  I remember studying her heel bone and noticed that it was the size of my finger tip - no more than half-an-inch wide.  From the tip of her toe to the back of her heel, her feet were just over two inches long.  They were tiny - and although, I don't know much about the rules of physics or physiology, it didn't seem like she had either in her favor.

Well, here we are nearly seventeen months later, and I am still asking myself, "How will she ever learn to walk on those tiny feet?"

You see, at 17-months, Lucy's feet are still miniature.  They are less than 4-inches long.  She is still wearing "shoes" that are made for babies ages 0-6 months and I believe the laws of physics are still working against her.

While were in Oregon at the beginning of August, enjoying a picnic on the banks of the Deschutes River, Lucy learned to get herself to a standing position.  It was a proud and gleeful moment for her, and for all of us watching.   As I watched her stand up, sit down, stand up, sit down, I thought to myself, "Walking can't be far behind."

Over the past couple of months Lucy has learned to walk around furniture and to walk while holding my hand, but she is such a chicken, she has continually refused to walk on her own.  Two weeks ago, at Isaac's flag football game, she suddenly took three steps on her own.  Although I was mid-sentence,  talking to another mom, I got so excited I lost my train of thought.  "She just took her first steps!" I cheered and thought to myself,"Finally, the girl is walking!"

Well, not really.  Every few days she takes a couple of steps - and at this point I'm wondering if she's doing it just to keep my hopes alive - because truthfully, she is still a long way from having this be her main means of getting around.

Lucy, NOT walking.

Thinking about walking....

But would rather sit.

Although her feet are tiny I know that she'll be able to walk as soon as she makes up her mind to do it.  In the meantime, she'll just keep teasing me with a couple of steps every few days and I'll just keep nibbling those little bite-sized feet of hers.  Ohh, I just love baby feet.

We Made it a Date

A couple of months ago, on a beautiful summer evening, we were over at my parents house when unexpectedly, my Aunt Robyn and Uncle Steve stopped by, driving some cute little scooters.   As Andrew and I oohed and ahhed over their scooters, my aunt insisted that we borrow them sometime and take them out for a spin.   Andrew and I pictured ourselves, driving up the canyon on a beautiful summer day, feeling the sun on our face as the wind cooled us down.  It would make a perfect date for the two of us.

Well, despite this generous offer, it took until today before we finally made it happen.  Luckily, it was a beautiful day.  The first day of October - and nearly ninety degrees - the perfect day for a scooter ride. 

 Ready to ride. 

Initially, I was a little nervous about my scooter skills.

You see, when I was 13-years old, my friend, Laurel, and I took her scooter out for a ride - illegally, obviously.  I knew my parents would ground me for months if they knew I was doing it, but even with the thought of that threat, I begged Laurel to let me have a turn driving the scooter.  I started out great, but as I made my first turn onto a street, I realized that I was making the turn too wide.  Before I knew it, I had crashed into the curb and both Laurel and I were thrown from the scooter.  

I landed hard on my shoulder and then slid across the sidewalk on my stomach.  When I stood up, the first thing I felt was relief that I was alive, then I felt a pain radiating from my shoulder area, and then I felt fear. What would my parents do if they found out I had driven the scooter and then crashed?   I knew this could be the end of my teenage social career.

I learned a couple of valuable lessons that day:

1. I am not a coordinated scooter driver.

2. It is impossible to conceal a broken collar bone from your parents for more than 45 minutes. 

3. The fear of punishment is not so scary when medical attention is required.

4.  Making a 7th grade girl wear a collarbone brace that pushes her shoulders back and her blossoming chest out, is worse punishment than anything a parent could do.

In any case, ever since that fateful day - oh so many years ago - I have been somewhat leery of scooters.  I was a little nervous today when we went to pick up the scooters.  It took several trips around the neighborhood before I felt comfortable enough to venture on to real streets - and even then, I kept wanting to buckle a seatbelt that wasn't there.  It definitely took a minute for me to relax.

Andrew and I decided to drive up Millcreek Canyon and once we got into the canyon, I calmed down and loved every second of our drive.  It was such a gorgeous day.  The sky was the deepest blue and the leaves were brilliant shades of red and yellow and orange.  Even though it was October, instead of the middle of summer - like we had pictured - we still got to feel the warm sun on our faces and the breeze cooling us down as we drove.  It was nothing short of spectacular.

Is there anything more beautiful than aspen trees in the sunlight?

It was an amazing afternoon.  We came home relaxed and rejuvenated, and I feel like I may have conquered the demons still haunting the 13-year old girl inside me.  

After today, I am once again a lover of scooters.  Thanks Steve and Robbie.