Potion, Please

Look at this kid, acting like he's not a baby anymore and pretending that I'll actually let him go to school one day.

If he knows what's good for him, he'll knock it off.

(Also, does anyone know of a good time-stopping potion? I'll pay cash.)

Time Flies (But At Least the Olympics Are Almost Here)

Trying hard to figure out just exactly when the little girl on the right became the little girl on the left.

When the pictures on the right were taken, I joked about Julia becoming a synchronized swimmer at the ripe old age of 11, in time for the Summer 2016 Olympics. Of course, I knew in my heart that 6 years would never pass and that Julia would never actually become 11 years of age, and that the 2016 Olympics would never actually get here, so I was safe to make all the jokes I wanted to about it.

Except, look. 

She accidentally aged 6 years when she was meant to stay a pre-kindergartner forever.

My only solace is that in this span of six forbidden years, she has become, inside and out, such a beautiful girl who is truly a joy (and a riot!) to be around.

Oh, and also that it's almost time for the Summer Olympics once again.

That makes everything better.

The Two Beans

These girls. They are nine months apart in age and have lived over 400 miles apart in distance for the entirety of their lives. 

But oh, how they love each other. 

Each time they see each other, they pick up right where they left off. And each time they say goodbye, it is one of the saddest things to behold.

How I hope their fierce friendship and love is a life-long blessing for each of them.

Ready for Rain

Monsoon season starts around mid-June in these parts, but it's made a pretty poor showing this year with only one big rain storm on our end of town so far. It's still hot when it's monsoon-y here (that's totally a word), so it isn't like we get a real break from the heat, but there is just something awesome about a hot summer rainstorm, even if you are still running your air conditioning while it's happening. 

The storm that hit at the beginning of July came on really suddenly and actually kicked us out of the pool for the rest of the day. After it didn't subside right away like we thought it would, the kids headed in while I sat in my bathing suit and read on the porch, listening to rain sounds and pretending like I was not responsible for feeding said truckload of children who happened to be watching TV nearby.

I am crossing my fingers that we'll get some more monsoon appearances (not to be confused with Monson appearances, which are quite frequent around here) before the stormy season is officially over. 

You know the phrase, "When it rains, it pours"? I'm pretty sure that was invented right here in our very own hometown.

In other news, we had a blast night-swimming with the kiddos on the 4th of July and avoiding the heat and crowds of valley fireworks shows. The best part is, we can actually seem some awesome fireworks from the front of our house (something that we somehow didn't figure out until this year), so it was really a win-win.

We watched the fireworks, skipped baths, and sent the kids to bed smelling of chlorine, feeling like maybe we were okay parents after all.

Is That It?

A few weeks ago (before the weather turned Phoenasty and I started only stepping foot outside to walk to the swimming pool), I went for a morning run. After 5.4 miles of circling through the neighborhood, I stopped when I got back to the house, grabbed my water bottle, and started heading inside. A neighbor, who, I am assuming had just begun his own run, saw me stop, slowed down as he passed by the house and asked me, "Is that it?" The thought flashed through my mind. "Uh, yeah that's it. I'm lucky I didn't die just now." But I answered with finality, "Yep. I'm done." He responded, "How far did you go?" Again, a thought: "Nunya Bidness, stranger-man." Instead, in a burst of seeking this stranger's approval, I said, "Almost 5 and a half miles." "Oh, wow," he said, seemingly impressed. "Okay." And he ran off.

I'm not gonna lie. I felt a little vindicated that I was able to report to this person (that I don't even know) that I had run a satisfactory number of miles that morning. Running 5 miles still feels like a lot to me on most days, so in general I am proud to be able to clock that distance. This particular day, I was happy that my own secret torture seemed to impress this stranger, and I happily concluded that my run had not been in vain.

The whole episode got me thinking. Both his question, along with my automatic response to his assumption, really made my wheels turn for the rest of the day and weeks that followed, and I have internalized a couple of important lessons.

Since I hadn't crossed paths with this man at any time during my several loops through the neighborhood, I am guessing that his run had just begun as mine was ending. It seems that, for whatever reason, he supposed that I must not have been running very long when he passed by and saw me stopping, prompting him to ask me, a total stranger, "Is that it?" Perhaps in his vigor and newness of energy, he thought that I was giving up prematurely and should be performing and pushing forward the same way he was.

Yet. This man didn't know me. He didn't know anything about my running history that day and certainly does not know my history overall. His reaction to me ending my run as he was beginning his really made me think: What do we really know about the people around us in this proverbial race of life? What do we truly understand about the distance that others have gone, or the exhaustion they are experiencing on their individual journeys, or the injuries, shortcomings, and limitations that they may be grappling with? Maybe sometimes we think that we are "ahead," or better, because we have just started out feeling fresh and unbeatable, but in reality we are just leaving our driveways for the first time while they have already been running circles around us for hours, days, months, or years, without our even knowing. Maybe when others are slowing down just as we are starting up, it is because their legs and lungs and heart are worn out in a way that we have yet to even experience because we are just barely lacing up our shoes.

I hope I can remember that, when I am feeling strong and capable, or young and energetic, compared to others who seem like they are lagging behind, that I actually have no idea how long, or hard, or excruciating their journey has been. That there is no way I could ever understand the details of their efforts, or the glory of their accomplishments. There is One who can, but I am not that One.

Here's another thought. In this particular case, I had been running further and longer than this person had imagined, and it made me happy and smug to be able to report that to him. "Yes, I just ran 5 miles and  I have earned a rest, so you don't get to judge me." But...what if I hadn't just run that far? What if I had also just started, and that was as far as I could possibly go? What if the best I could do was to run down just one street before I had to pause and catch my breath, or stop altogether? What if he was better and faster, and more able than me, and my only response to his question in that moment could be, "Yes, that's it. My paltry offering to the Universe has come to its slow and pathetic conclusion"? Does he get to judge me now? Am I required to answer to him, or any person on this earth for that matter, about how far or fast I can go? About what my abilities or intentions are? Do I actually need another human being's approval of whether or not I am giving the best and most appropriate effort?

What a blessing to know that the answers to these questions are a resounding NO. To be reminded that, when it comes to our efforts, our abilities and our failings, we answer only to the One. The One who actually knows us. Who understands our hearts, our weaknesses, our desires to progress. The One who has "engraven [us] upon the palms of [His] hands," and thus has a true and lasting stake in where we end up in this life. The One who will never say, "You have not tried hard enough," but instead, "Look how far you have come."

In this life, some may be ahead. Some may be behind. Some may be standing aside, waiting to truly begin. But wherever we find ourselves, and wherever others around us may be, I pray that we will cheer on, uplift, and show a confidence in them, without ever attempting to judge what we can't possibly know about their efforts--their life, sacrifices, or progress--compared to our own. I pray that, when it comes to feeling accepted and approved, we will be concerned only with the opinion of the One who knows us perfectly and desires only our success.






Life is not a run. It is not a race. It is much more complicated and tiring and cruel and wonderful than any physical exertion alone could ever be. It is also more rewarding, for the very reason that so much more sacrifice and faith and willingness and stamina are required than any other temporary venture we may undertake in mortality. Truly the whole point of this life is not for us to determine who is ahead, or behind, who is winning or losing. It is to finish. To do our best to make it through, all the while encouraging and loving and praising those around us who are doing their best, whether or not it looks like what we think it should.

We want to finish. We want to make it to the end. We want to do more than to survive, but to thrive, experiencing peace and happiness as we put forth our best effort.

We want to succeed.

Let us do everything we can to help others do the same.

Come Back, Asteroid

Maybe one day when you are up very early on a summer morning, you will see some very cool looking clouds. Maybe you will run inside for the camera even though you are kind of in a hurry to get out the door for a run before the temperature increases by one more degree. Maybe later you will mention these cool clouds to your sister Laura and she will find it interesting. Maybe she will tell you two days afterwards that those strange clouds were actually the mild aftermath of a freak asteroid that happened to pass by the planet early that morning.

And then maybe you will be thankful for the "Good Dinosaur" moment in which the world was not destroyed. Because this means that you still get to go on a little much-needed vacation that you are planning with your honey for few weeks later.

But after that, the asteroid is welcome to return and finish the job. Because, wow. Look what a mess we have made of things here on earth.

A Much Overdue Daddy Shout-Out

Dear Craig,

Words are usually my friends. 

But. 

When it comes to trying to use them to accurately describe how much I love you, and what a wonderful companion and devoted father you are, and how you bring so much joy and peace to our family every day, the words manage to fail me every single time.

Father's Day just passed, and, as usual, I spent some time contemplating how very blessed I feel to have you in my life. And not just in my life in a peripheral, "sometimes we are lucky to have time to talk or text" kind of way, like it is with so many other special and important people that I love, but IN my life. IN my every thought and heartbeat and action. IN my life because I want to tell you about every single thing, interesting or uninteresting, that happens in my day. IN my life because every second that you are gone I think about how much nicer it would be if you were here. IN my life because I cannot think of you without smiling or wanting you close.

And that's just me. 

When I witness the love and attention that you daily dedicate to our precious littles--both those by birth and those by chance--my heart just about bursts with gratitude for the father that you are. When I think of the countless hours that you toil uncomplainingly for our support and comfort, I am amazed and humbled. When I think about how happy our children are to see you at the end of the day, how you are so special and important and wonderful to all of them, I smile and feel a deep and unending thankfulness that penetrates my very being. When I contemplate our partnership with one another and with the Lord in raising and helping and loving these precious souls, I cannot even begin to fully grasp what a sacred and blessed privilege that is. 

I wish there were words enough to truly say how I feel. How we feel. We know you love us. We know we are precious to you. And we thank the Lord every day for the handsome, loving, hard-working father of our family whose presence and dedication are a steadfast, unmatched, daily gift.

Love,

Your biggest fans

"For men, fatherhood exposes us to our own weaknesses 
and our need to improve. Fatherhood requires sacrifice, 
but it is a source of incomparable satisfaction, even joy...
Fathers manifest that love as they lay down their lives day by day,
laboring in the service and support of their families...

Some men are single fathers, foster fathers, or stepfathers.
Many of them strive mightily to do their best in an often 
difficult role. We honor those who do all that can 
be done in love, patience, and self-sacrifice to meet 
individual and family needs." 

--D. Todd Christofferson