Ragnar

We did it. We Ragnar-ed it. Dave and I each ran 13.1 miles over 24 hours. It.Was.Awesome. Dave's legs were 6.7, 3, and 3.3 miles. Mines were 5.1, 4.2, and 3.8 miles. All together our team ran about 190 miles.

We had a super-awesome team. And that's what makes it so fun. Our "van" consisted of 3 seminary teachers and their wives. They were well trained. Dave and I weren't.

My mom took the kids, even though they had to bring Mari and the baby home from the hospital that day. She had one crazy weekend! But we were so grateful she did it. And we LOVED our little mini-vacation from responsibility. We went to bed the night before the race with no kids in our house. We've never done that before. It was weird. But cool.

I haven't been on a team in awhile. Not really since cheerleading I guess. I love being on a team. That was my favorite part about the Ragnar relay. You are all cheering each other on. So much so that it seems like every team is cheering all the other teams on. We started calling it the Spirit of Ragnar.

There were 1050 teams this year. There are 12 people on a team. You do the math. That's a lot of people. It seemed like everyone I knew did it. And one of my friends who didn't do it said it felt like he missed out on something big.

We learned some valuable lessons. When van 2 was running we went to Wolf Creek and enjoyed a lovely lunch in the shade. We lounged around, but I started panicking that we were going to miss our exchange. I was shot down a few times, but eventually we mobilized and boy were we lucky. As we drove up the hill to Snowbasin, we watched for our runner. We couldn't see him. We knew we were in trouble. Less than half a mile from the exchange, we finally saw him. We BARELY made it. We tried REALLY hard to make each exchange because it would be pretty deflating to run your hardest and get to the exchange only to sit there waiting for your teammate. We watched lots of people do that, and always felt bad for them. For our next set of legs we drove to the exchange and hung out there. It took 2 hours to go 40 miles. That's why you go there first, you can never estimate how long it will take you to get from place to place.

If you were wondering, the item that you pass off for the relay is a slap bracelet. As you approach your exchange you take the bracelet off and slap it on their wrist as they run away.

Dave's first leg was 6.7 miles. He didn't think he could do it. He ran the whole way. He made pretty good time. 11 minute miles. I fell even more in love with him. I was so unbelievably proud of him.

My first leg was ugly. For me anyway, I thought it was hard. My second leg was quite nice. And my third was fantastic. Although the third had a rough start. I had asked over and over, best case scenario when will she show up. 8:20. Best case. At 8:05 I heard my number called. 695! She totally exceeded our expectations which was awesome. Later I was proud of her. But in the moment I started panicking. Yelling, "You said Best Case Scenario!!!" I did make it in time for the exchange, but I was not ready. I hadn't even used my inhaler for my asthma yet. I think I'll put the video of that exchange on here. As I turned the corner of that mountain I saw around 7 hot air balloons. That was my tender mercy. I loved it.

We already signed up for Ragnar next year with our same van. I can't wait. I hope I can do it.

Our team at the start line

Me. Just happy to be a part of the action.

Celebrating at the finish line


My favorite leg and surprise exchange

Mari

It was brought to my attention that some people have no idea who Mari is, or how she fits into my family. That makes sense to me now, as I tried to never bring up the confusing topic before of adoption and the challenges it can bring.

My family is so confusing. People ask me how many kids are in my family and I get a really un-intelligent, grimace on my face as I try to figure out the number. It has been ever changing since 1992, and as most families only GROW, ours has expanded and contracted at different times.

Here is the story in a nutshell.

In 1971 my parents got married. They had their token two kids, and that was it. Well, you know, one thing led to another, and 5.5 years later they had ME! For 10 years I was the baby of the family. It was fantastic. But after my dad was baptized (my mom was baptized when I was a baby) he agreed that babies come from Heaven, and there were more children to come to our family.

In 1992 my run as the baby ended with the birth of the fattest little Italian baby I've ever seen. 9 lbs 13 oz and 19 days late she was. My baby sister Lauren turns 18 tomorrow. Wow! Four years later, and at the ripe old age of 45 and 10/12 my mom had another baby girl. Baby Kate. My mom still felt strongly that she was supposed to have boys.

In 1999 my parents traveled across the world to a land called Kazakhstan. They found the sickliest little baby boy (10 pounds at 6 months) which they barely knew if he would survive the trip home, and they fattened him up to a little butterball. I think he had nearly doubled his weight in 2 months. Little Joshua, with his blond hair and huge blue eyes fit right into our family, and quickly made our little Italian Lauren look like the adopted one.

Shortly thereafter a little Russian boy showed up at our doorstep. Literally. There he was, dropped off at our house with about a week before he would return to his Russian orphanage. He won our hearts, and my parents made the journey across the world once again to adopt him. He was old. Maybe 9? Poor little guy had so many terrible things happen to him in his life. He just never could recover. It was strongly encouraged, maybe even thrust at my parents to adopt his biological sister. Maria. She is two years older than him. So they once again made the trip to Russia and adopted Maria. Shortened her name to Mari as it fit our last name better.

Unfortunately they both have been very damaged from all that they have been through. It's a tough world for a Russian orphan, especially when your mother was an alcoholic and gave you problems before you were even born. This little boy couldn't control himself in ways that were very damaging to a family. After months in a hospital, it was determined that he needed to be with parents who were specialized in taking care of children like this. His biological sister Mari followed him around as he bounced from house to house. He was the master of disaster. No one could handle him. At a certain point, when Mari was in a house where she was thriving, it was decided that she would no longer follow him around. So she lived in Arizona with a mother who is pretty darn good at raising these adopted kids.

Mari did well, working very hard in school, and setting records in cross country running for the state of Arizona. Her little 5' tall body with teensy tiny size 2 feet can run like the wind. So she stayed there until she turned 18 and unfortunately found herself pregnant after only 2 months on her own.

Worried about the welfare of the baby and Mari as well, my parents flew her home and kept her healthy through her pregnancy. My dad worked so hard to get things situated for Mari, he spent entire days driving her around helping her out.

This whole situation was very hard for me to figure out for years. Very embarrassing. Where are those adopted kids? Are they my siblings? I just avoided the topic.

Now Mari is very much a part of our family again. We are happy to have her.

How many kids are in my family? Well 3, at one point. Then 4,5 and 6. Then 7 & 8. Then 6 again. Then 2 deaths in 3 months and back to 4. Now 5. But Mr. 6 is still out there. Just not stable enough to really be a part of our family. Jail tends to be his hotel of choice.

Crazy family. But I love them. All 7 of my siblings.

I love my 3 week nephew. He is not 3 weeks old, it's that he is only my nephew for 3 weeks. Then he will hop onto someone else's family tree for the rest of eternity. And that sounds just perfect to me.

Somethings that bug me

My dad asked me to give back this amplifier that he gave us because we weren't going to use it.
I bet that was a week before he died.
I didn't give it back.
And now I can't.
And he doesn't want it now.
And I probably won't use it ever.
And I miss him.

I saw a guy at Macey's walking out with groceries.
He looked like my dad.
Anyone with a bald head and white mustache looks like my dad to me.

And I still keep hoping he's gonna call.
In fact one day this week the phone rang as I was thinking about him.
I said out loud, "That's my dad."
It wasn't.

Sometimes I entertain the thought that he will still call and tell us we were tricked.
In my mind my eyes well up with tears and I say,
"Dad you have no idea what we've been through the last 8 weeks."
And then we catch up on all that has transpired.
It takes us hours of course.
And then a week later or so I go visit them like nothing has happened.
And we talk about fruit trees and basements and new.familysearch.org.
And when I leave he gives me a hug and kiss and tells me he loves me like every other time I left.

Has anyone called his phone lately?
Maybe he would answer.
He had that number longer than anyone else I know has had a cell number.
I think he had it for 17 years.
Does someone else have it now?

I hate death.
It seems really cruel to separate people who don't want to be separated.

But REALLY, all in all, I'm doing really well.
Doesn't mean certain things don't bother me.

Good thing I have a cute baby.
Who just walked into the wall with a big grin.
Not grinning anymore.

My little animal

My little animal is walking 80% of the time now. Finally. Little monkey, loved his monkey crawl and just didn't care about walking. He is so stinking cute. And soooooo much trouble. He can get out of any restraint (luckily not the crib though) and climbs all over the place. He gets in to all his trouble with a smile on his face, huge smile, mouth open as wide as possible, and melts our hearts. We worship this little G. baby, and are glad he's finally walking!!!

Baby Boy

My sister Mari had her baby boy last week. It was really quite an experience. Ever since we found out she was pregnant, we worried how she would get that baby out, she is so tiny. But that 5 foot tall little Russian girl birthed like a champ, and surprised us all.

Mari was dilated to a 3, and due to upcoming vacationing circumstances on the part of the doctor and my mom, it was decided she was in early labor and would be helped along that afternoon.

I must start the story by telling you the incredible feeling in that delivery room. I don't know if I have been too distracted to feel that in my delivery rooms or what, but I walked in and got choked up knowing what a sacred room this was. I know there were a lot of angels in that room, I didn't recognize any specifically, just felt like the room was really full, much more full than it looked. It was neat.

So at 3:30 we showed up at the hospital and she got hooked up to an iv. Mari has a fairly low pain tolerance, and hates needles, so getting the iv was a huge deal for her. Around 5:00 the doctor showed up and by 5:15 her water was broken and she was hooked up to pitocin. It got pretty dicey after that.

She started having contractions, but they weren't showing up on the monitor, and with her low pain tolerance we didn't think too much of them. I recommended that she get an epidural, but she insisted she wanted to feel some contractions. The anesthesiologist took off to a c-section and another girl signed up for her epidural, so unfortunately the epidural was now way off in the distance.

Contractions started picking up on the monitor and were less than 2 minutes apart. Crying and cringing, and lots of complaining were taking place each time. I went outside to ask the nurse for some IV meds. They gave her a push of Fentanyl, which calmed her down a lot. But within an hour the contractions were every minute and the Fentanyl was gone! So I begged the nurse for more. I also asked her to turn down the Pitocin so Mari's contractions weren't so close. She brought more Fentanyl in, and the anesthesiologist followed shortly.

I haven't had a natural childbirth with pitocin, so I wasn't sure what to expect, but I remember saying that if it were me I'd be thinking the baby was coming soon with contractions so close together.

As soon as the epidural was done, he told her to lay down and when her head hit the pillow she got the urge to push. The nurse was skeptical as this was just 2 hours after she started and it was a first baby. The nurse felt pretty certain the baby would be born the following morning. But she checked and sure enough Mari was right. We rushed to call the adoptive mother (we had planned on calling her when Mari was a 6 or 7, but she was only checked at 3 and 10). The adoptive mother came in time to see the delivery and be the first to hold the baby.

23 minutes of pushing was all it took. I tell you what, that girl is a birthing fool. She is amazing. She did really well, and did almost all of it without an epidural.

The baby is beautiful. He does look a lot like Mari. He is half African American as well. He's adorable, and I can't wait for him to join his new family. This family has already adopted a boy, and I am so thrilled that he will have a brother. What could be better than two boys? (Maybe four boys :)





It was such a neat experience being there with Mari. Watching how natural the birthing experience is, a person who has no clue about it can do it with their natural instincts. I was grateful that she had so much support in the room to help her through a crazy fast 2.5 hour delivery. It was the first birth I've ever really seen, it helped me understand it on a greater level. Thanks Mari for letting me be there! Good luck with your placement! And to baby boy, I know you'll have a wonderful life with your new family. Please know how much work it was for everyone to get you there. It took time, stress, money, prayer, given by SO many people. But everyone is thrilled for you. It wasn't easy, but you are one lucky boy. We all love you.

Happy Father's Day!

Just wanted to say Happy Father's Day to the hottest dad I know. I really love this guy, and I feel so lucky to be married to him. Our four boys are so lucky to have him as a dad. And I fell even more in love with him this weekend watching him run the race. Happy Father's Day Dave. And here's to many more!

House for Sale!

Not mine, my mom's. We haven't gotten all the pictures taken yet, but her house is looking really nice. I still have a room to repaint completely, and then some touchup, so I'm bringing down my sprayer next time. Other than that, it's looking awesome. I'm so grateful there isn't much to fix up! It's in quite good condition.

Please, if you know anyone who might be interested, please direct them to the listing. Send an email, the listing number is wrong and I can't seem to fix it. I would REALLY like to get my mom moved up close to me soon. It would be so nice!

http://www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=475&ad=11176558&cat=279

Someone said to me the other day....

"How many kids do you have?"
To which I proudly responded.....
"I have FOUR boys."

And do you know what she said?


"Oh I'm so sorry."


And do you know what I wished I had said.
Because I'm not very quick on my feet.
And I always think of what I wish I would have said a few hours later.
But if I had said it, I would have totally meant it.

"I'm not. I hope I have 6 boys."


And that's how I feel these days. I absolutely adore my boys.
I think I could be eternally happy with a family of all boys.
I think it might actually be BETTER to have the same gender.
And let them all do boy stuff together.

I mean, look at these guys. How could anyone be sorry?
I am madly in love with each one of them.

Potato Bug

Yesterday as I was getting Henry out of the car for church, he had a little ball pinched between his fingers. He showed me proudly and agreed with him that it was really cool. We got into church and Dave was sitting up on the stand with stake sustainings, so I was alone with the kids. Several minutes into the meeting Isaac tells me Henry has a bug. I tell him no he doesn't. "Yes, he has a potato bug." *LIGHT BULB* Oh yeah, that little ball was a potato bug all rolled up. "I think it's dead." I told Isaac. Then I looked over and saw a potato bug crawling around Henry's hand.

He had brought a live bug into sacrament meeting.

I was alone with these four kids, there was no way to get rid of the bug without making a huge scene! This poor little bug was his entertainment for about 30 minutes of the meeting. The family of girls behind me had a good laugh. The bug was eventually legless, and I think Henry figured out how to open and close him even once he was dead. I kept trying to convince him to throw the bug out, but Henry thought that was the worst idea ever. At one point, he pointed his little finger toward my face which had a black stringy thing on it, I'm assuming guts. Finally Henry agreed that the bug was done and we wrapped him up in a wet wipe and threw him away.

Phew.

I love boys.

Saddle Rock

Today my fantastic hubby took the day off work to go on a hike with us. Jesse brought his boys along and Trisha brought Naomi. It was lovely. Nicely overcast so it wasn't too hot, but not muddy and slippery. It was a tough hike and it took every last ounce of energy Dawson and Drew had, but they did it, all the way to the top and back down. We also stopped at the "bear" cave on our way up. It took us 3 hours round trip, and we had a nice snack on the top.

Yeah, this is saddle rock, but I guess we hiked up the other side of it.


Trisha and Naomi


Me and my Daws at the top


Me and Daws. He's really cute, and I'm.......


Check out his smile!


Trisha and Naomi at the top


Jesse and his boys


Us looking a little bit ragged at the top. Check out that view!


Group shot. And for those who care, check out my t-shirt. It says Randolph New Jersey. Yeah baby! Found that little gem in my closet after having ignored it for quite a few years.


Thanks guys for an awesome morning! And thank you Dave for coming with us. I'm sure enjoying not being pregnant or nursing this summer!

Memories

The sad thing, yet good thing, about death is that in time, a realization occurs that the person who died is no longer alive, and will turn into a more of a memory. You can't talk to them, or see them, watch their mannerisms, or touch them. They become a memory, and as more time goes by the memories of them become harder to recall. This passing of phases can really help as you don't feel as sharp a sting when you remember their absence, or at least you don't feel it as often. I've started to arrive in that place, and I'm feeling better. It hurts less, I comprehend my father's absence more, I don't feel like he should be calling me or coming back, not anymore.

I would like to record, on my blog, memories of my dad, and of my sisters. So that as these memories may become harder to recall, I can read them and remember them. I am so glad to know that I will see them again, but I do feel frustration in the amount of time it will be before we are reunited.

So if there are random posts about them, you will know why.

Dad
My dad loved telling a certain story about me. When I was very young (You know probably only 6 months old or something as I was so brilliant) he was working outside. He was cutting wood. I watched him, and rather than seeing what he was making with the wood (I was very short) from my perspective I only saw what was on the ground. I looked up at him and asked "Whatcha doing Daddy? Making triangles?" He was floored by my brilliant question at such a young age, and I think my age decreased about a month every time he told the story. My dad loved bragging about his girls.

Squirrels and Groundhogs
Boy, if there were two pests in my childhood they were squirrels and ground hogs. We had 6.5 acres in New Jersey, and those darn groundhogs loved to make big holes out in the grass. It made my dad furious. When he spotted one, he made us all be still. He quietly went to his bedroom, got his gun ready and snuck up on those groundhogs and shot. My poor sister Aimee hid in the basement, she felt so sad for the poor animals. I generally did everything she did as I worshipped her, but I thought it was pretty cool. I didn't mind watching him trying to get those groundhogs. I also remember him trying to smoke them out. And the squirrels would always eat our fruit off the trees. When we lived in New Jersey I remember going up on the roof with my dad. We were up there to shoot squirrels. I can't quite believe he let me go up there with him, but it was one of my fondest childhood memories. I would spot the squirrels, point them out to him, and he would shoot them. I felt so special. It probably only happened twice, but when I talked about it in later years, it was something we "always" did. Just me and my dad. I prided myself in being the son he never had, at least didn't have yet... In Utah he had squirrels too, digging holes through his rock retaining walls. He had to use a bb gun or something since we were on a small piece of property, but he still shot those squirrels. And I still pointed them out to him.

Horses
My dad loved horses. He owned race horses. A few time, he took me down to Freehold to watch the horses race or just visit. We visited my Aunt Lily, whom I loved. We always got some kind of Beer advertised clothing or something out of it as they sponsored the race track. For years we used the Coors light umbrella which was kind of embarrassing, but they were nice umbrellas and he wasn't about to get rid of perfectly nice umbrellas. Dad eventually got out of the horse business, after much prodding from my mother, but he always loved horses. His favorite horse was EZ Ben. I always wanted a horse named after me, but it never happened. But my older sisters got horses named after them.

Hands
I don't ever remember my dad with his hands free from the effects of hard work. As I worked on this basement and had my hands nicked and cut up, my dad told me he knew exactly how I felt. He said he always had a smashed finger or a cut or two healing. I remember it. When I remember my dad's hands, I remember his battle wounds. Just the small wounds from the battle of life, but so uniquely his hands. I love hands. My dad's hands worked hard throughout his life.

Driving
Oh man, my dad was a scary driver. He was very aggressive. Very fast. And later in his life, very scary. But he always seemed to be in control, and didn't get in a lot of accidents. When I got the phone call that he died in Wyoming, I was 100% sure that he died in a car accident. I asked my mom about it, and was floored when she told me it was natural causes. How that man didn't die in his 66 years of a car accident is beyond me, but I am SO glad that we don't have to deal with him driving in even older age. Taking away his driving privileges would have been nearly impossible, I'm glad we never have to go there. Both me and my dad can drive for long periods of time and not get drowsy. I'm glad I got that quality from him.

Love. I think I'm going to do a whole post on love.

Running
I don't remember my dad ever running except once, but it is such a special memory for me. When I was in 5th or 6th grade I wanted to get a certain time on a mile. My dad took me to the field and we practiced. He held a stop watch and timed me. He cheered me on with each lap. After running a few miles, he told me he would practice with me, and he ran a mile with me. I was the luckiest girl on Earth. There I was with my Dad coaching me on running.

Cheerleading
I think I've mentioned enough that my dad was so proud of his kids. One thing that made him so proud was when I became an Aggie cheerleader. When I had cheered with Cheerz I was a base in stunting. I loved it, and my email address became ericabase. When my dad got my computer all set up for me at college, he named my hard drive "Ericaflyer" because I became a flyer in stunting. He was so proud, he loved to come to the games and watch me. He took pictures of me, and printed them out for me.

I'm not imagining things....

Taken from the Herald Journal

Western tanagers flock to valley

They’re everywhere this spring — small birds with a bright red-orange head and face, yellow body and black wings. The colorful birds seen perched in trees and on fences throughout Cache Valley are male western tanagers. Female western tanagers are abundant also, but their toned-down plumage makes them more difficult to spot. They have an olive green head and face, underparts that vary from bright yellow to grayish white, and a gray back and wings.

The notes in my old copy of Birds of North America say that I saw my first western tanager on May 31, 1993, on a hike to the Wind Caves. Sightings since then have been few and far between, mostly because I’m only a casual birder who doesn’t even own a bird feeder. But this spring the numbers of western tanagers has dazzled me. Why the sudden upswing in numbers here in Cache Valley?

Kim Sullivan, an ornithologist and associate professor in biology at Utah State University, offers an explanation: “Western tanagers breed in forests, but due to the late snowfall in the mountains and cold weather this spring, they’re staying low for food.” She goes on to explain that insect emergence is controlled by heat, and as the temperatures rise over the next week, the mountains should experience insect hatching, allowing the birds to make their way to their usual breeding habitat.

Val Grant, president of the Bridgerland Audubon Society, offers an additional reason for the increased western tanager presence.

“They may have simply experienced a population eruption,” he said. “Last year was a successful year, so this spring there are more birds to return.”

He then went on to tell of a friend who was visiting Rendezvous Park last week. (It’s located on the west side of Highway 89-91 just past the Logan River Golf Course.) A flock of some 250 western tanagers flushed from the nearby willows. It’s hard to say who was more startled, Grant’s friend or the tanagers.

I joined Birdtalk, an e-mail list through utahbirds.org, as a way to find out more about the increased tanager population this spring.

From the responses to my question about the numbers of western tanagers, it seems that the colorful little birds’ numbers are up all along the Wasatch Front. Tim Avery, who lives in the Salt Lake City area and maintains the website timaverybirding.com, writes, “I have been birding almost 18 years and have never seen more than 20 at one time. Right now you can travel pretty much anywhere in the state and see western tanagers.” He notes that on a recent trip from Northern to Southern Utah he saw numerous western tanagers in every type of habitat.

There is some speculation that the sudden increase in this year’s western tanager numbers might have something to do with climate change affecting migrating patterns. When I put that question to Sullivan, she was quick to point out that it’s impossible to make such a statement based on one year’s observation. It would take a number of years to determine whether climate change is affecting the tanager population. She did note, however, that the localized weather patterns we’ve been experiencing this spring will likely delay this year’s breeding season for western tanagers in our area.

“Their typical breeding season is now,” she noted. “They’re usually up in the mountains at this point with males establishing territory.”

Sullivan maintains that once there are insects to feed on up in the forests, the tanagers will migrate there to breed.

If you’ve been bemoaning this year’s cold and rainy spring, you’re not alone. The western tanagers have been waiting out the cold too. When it finally warms up and the tanagers leave the valley, look for them up in the mountains this summer.

Grandparents

I've been so bummed that my kids won't grow up with their Grandpa George around. He was an awesome grandpa.

Yesterday, we went over after Isaac's baseball game to the Low Grandparent's house. I was sore from a run so I sat on the sidelines playing with my baby. But I sat back and soaked in every second of Grandpa Gordon and Grandma Stevie playing with those boys in their beautiful backyard. They played baseball with them and pushed them on the swings. It was magical. I'm so grateful that my kids still have 3 grandparents living, and may all 3 of them live a long time!

Birds

Two "Western Tanagers" were hanging out in my backyard today. They are so beautiful, and look so out of place in our backyard which usually only has gray and black birds in it.