the little things

I got a little note from Paulie tonight that was a big deal to me. I am a little weepy about it. I had posted a preview of some family holiday photos that we had done a few weeks ago on Facebook. Not gonna lie, they're pretty cute. Stinking adorable. Mostly because our kids are darling and our photographer is amazing. Maybe we're not so bad either.

So Paulie Facebook-messages me cuz that's how you do it these days and says, after letting me know he's almost done with finals (good boy):

"i just looked at some of the christmas pictures gosh he is getting soooooo handsome and sloan is just gorgeous you guys look like the perfect little family =] makes me the happiest person in the world"

That right there is the beauty of open adoption. You get to share all of this stuff, this great love, these perfect moments...these children, in a way that is so incredibly special and shocking and unique and wonderful. My heart is so full of love right now. We are all the perfect little family.

care

We went to see Kid Rock on Saturday night. Total last-minute thing but I love Kid Rock. Like love, love. His songs have been Lake Powell soundtracks for years and you just don't get over that stuff.

In a little drama moment, my online ticket purchase transaction did not go through so at the last minute we ended up in a parking lot at a seedy truck stop meeting someone named CannedAss (Candace. Get it?) to exchange 250 bucks for 5 general admission tickets. Felt like a drug deal. Seriously.

So we get to the concert at Saltair and it's...insane. Packed. People were angry and pushing, probably trying to get to the bar. And then we went downstairs to actually "see" the concert and dance and it was a little the same but also amazing.

Obviously love hearing my favorite songs....Cowboy, All Summer Long and, of course, Bawitdaba. I don't even know what that means but I love it. But even better, I love the whole concept of this tour.

Just before the main song, "Care," Kid (we're apparently on a first name basis) said "We're here to appreciate the love of music, not the money.

So we're giving most of the money from this tour to charities in every city, because that's how we do it in Detroit. We take care of our own. We are not left or right, us or them. We are Americans and we are in this together. And we may not be able to do everything we want to make everyone good but the least we can do is...care. So dance and sing and share what you can. And care. Just care." I'm sure I didn't get it exactly right but the sentiment is dead on. And that's pretty cool. Especially for a white cowboy rapper type from Detroit (is that even a thing?) who is oddly sexy if not traditionally hot (hey, how many of you have been married to Pam Anderson? Shut it!), borderline talented (I'm channeling that from the internet buzz because I think he's amazing and I'm tone deaf), and uber-wealthy but eager to share as much of his earnings as possible.

It made me think. And care. There was a woman in the bathroom trying to get her friend to the front of the line because she was going to puke. Nice try. I was cranky and waiting in line when I really, really had to pee and I was not very charitable. Sure, I let her cut but I was not happy about it. As I was leaving the bathroom I noticed a red-headed young woman janitor cleaning up puke and paper and crap. And I thought about how horrible her job was but she would do anything to get money to feed her kids, keep a roof over their heads, whatever. So I tipped her every cent I had in my pocket, which was about 20 bucks. And I swear, when I looked back she had tears in her eyes. I'm guessing she wasn't weepy about the money, I'm sure, but because somebody cared. And they didn't care about where they were in the beer line, or who pushed by them to get to the front or the back of the concert, or whether they could see from where they were, but because somebody cared about the people who made a night of fun and enjoyment happen.

And that is what it's all about, right? Caring. Sharing. Dancing. Singing. Living. Loving.

Never thought I'd have that epiphany at a Kid Rock concert. Very grateful that I did.

save the trees

I'm a bit of a hippie, I guess. In addition to my desire for world peace and love-not-war, I want to preserve some (if not all) of the world's natural beauty so my kids get to see and enjoy the blue sky and forests and clear running streams. Today, I had a tree-hugger moment...

For the last few years, I've pulled up to my office and been greeted by this fabulous tree. Dead, yes. But the majesty of its branches against the sky is always exaggerated by the season, the sunrise, the sunset, a snowfall. It changes but it's always powerful and beautiful.

The rustic barn, the tall grass field and the worn fences serve as a canvas for this bit of art. For many months there were two horses that circled this statuesque tree, adding their equine glamour and peaceful demeanor to the barren beauty of the tree. It's hard to capture in words the impact that this tree, even without leaves and life, has had on me and everyone in our office for the past few years.

So today, when they started ripping down all the trees in the yard that belongs to this tree, with a huge yellow backhoe thing, I was unnerved. As were a lot of people in our office. People stood at the windows watching huge yellow machines crush these lovely, gigantic old trees that were overgrown and half-dead but still majestic and important somehow. And it was a little tragic. We took pictures. And videos. And likened "our" trees to the Ents from Lord of the Rings. How did they feel about this travesty? Were they sad, angry, violated, vengeful? For us humans, there was sadness. There were even tears. There was mourning for this beautiful view we've enjoyed for so long and depression about the "zoned for commercial" buildings and expansive asphalt parking lot that we are certain will replace them. 

It took five minutes to demolish "my" tree's twin.
Five minutes for 50+ years.

I hope, for myself and my children and their children, that someday we find a balance between commerce and development and nature and beauty. I loved this field, especially when the horses were there and they'd walk up to the fence hoping for nothing more than a carrot or an old apple. And I loved this tree because it always reminded me that even when you're dead you can still inspire people with beauty and poetry and character. I loved that every day when I walked into a corporate world, there was this superbly human, basic, natural, majestic moment right outside the door to remind me why I was walking into a world of cubicles and meetings.

So good-bye beautiful trees. You were loved. You will be missed. And we will be better. I hope.

thanks a million

I love Thanksgiving. Not just because turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, rolls and pumpkin pie are my favorite...although that's always been a big part of it. But mostly because it gets really easy to take all of the things that make life wonderful for granted and this time of year you get to revel in each and every blessing that you have. So here we go...

our little man.  
He is such a joy and a blessing and a gift. There's no way to describe how his big heart and sharp wit and around-the-neck-bear-hugs and 'emergency kisses' have made our life and our family so amazing. He has this little lilt in his voice when he says things like "Thanksgiving is for loving mommies and daddies" or "You wanna make a deal?" We are so incredibly grateful that Tagg is our son.

our baby girl 
Those big blue eyes. Sloane brings new meaning to love and adventure every single day. She will wrap her arms around your knees one second and scale the counter tops the next. There is nothing better than her belly laugh or her big kisses or her curiosity for life. She is our angel and our love and our miracle baby.

friends, family and crazy running stuff.  
I am grateful for my family and friends who do crazy things with me, like run 188 miles in 24 hours or get up at the ass-crack of dawn to run a 5K in freezing temps on Thanksgiving. And I'm grateful that I am healthy enough to run a block, let alone 6.2 miles in 63 minutes. Most every step is hard, but every step is a gift and I know that for sure.

sunrises. sunsets.  
Somehow the sky gets painted with these breathtaking colors and patterns that make me stop in my tracks. God, nature, miracle, call it what you want. I don't care. I love them.

freedom.
You ain't seen nothing until you've seen Sloane in the throes of the joy of running. In her Uggs and her leopard skirt-pants, baby mullet flying in the wind. She is the epitome of joy in life, all day every day.

love.
You can't ever have too much love in your life, we always say. And judging by the calls, texts, emails and hugs we got today, we are not lacking in that category in any way. We are so very, very blessed to have an extended family that envelopes us all with so much pure, unadulterated, unselfish love. It is beautiful and amazing.

special friends.  
Tagg and his cousin Ashley have a special relationship. They have grown up together and well, they just love each other. I have a lot of friends like this. The ones who love you even when they smack you or share their cold with you. No matter what, they are always there to hold your hand when you need it, or when you don't, and to give you their last M&M, even if you don't ask.

Scott gets the love. I am the ride. Did I mention that I also love little kids in footie pajamas?

my amazing husband, scott.  
I love this man. He is my best friend, my rock, my guy who will do anything for me as long as I ask with a smile on my face, and he is the best best best father in the world. He can out-play, out-patience, out-smart, out-love our children and me without a sweat...and that's saying something!

Seriously. Does it get any cuter than this?

suburbia.  
Normally I don't love living in the burbs but every once in awhile you find a reason to love it. Today, we had an epic Thanksgiving dinner with the family and then walked about a half-mile to see a zebra. Oh yeah. You heard me right. A ZEBRA! Like at the zoo. And a couple of emus, a goat and some horses and stuff. But seriously, a ZEBRA...named Zuri. We fed it grapes.

Here, goatie, goatie.

grandparents. 
Scott and I have unbelievable parents. And those parents make over-the-moon grandparents. It's a different kind of special love. It's beautiful to watch and enjoy and appreciate and be inspired by. And I love that our babies are embraced by that all-consuming love from all of their grandparents every day of every month of every year.

family.  
Sometimes a walk on a cool day is the thing you remember.
It's always the thing that you love.

football. 
I am grateful for DVR (thanks couch potatoes) so I could watch the games between chasing kids.

food on the table. 
We ran a 10K this morning to benefit the Utah Food Bank. They did a challenge recently to see if you could survive on food stamps for a month which basically meant you could spend 6 bucks a day on food per person. Uh, hello. That's my Starbucks budget. So we've tried it and failed. And I am so, so incredibly grateful that our family has more than enough to eat and that we can share with others who don't.

The spoon is actually sticking to Sloane's hand like magic. But really it's sticky Jell-o hands. I am thankful for Jell-O, especially when I'm sick or when my mom makes it for Thanksgiving with cranberries and nuts.

hope. 
I want everything for my children, my siblings, my parents, my family, my friends. When there is something that they desire, I want it for them and we will do everything we can to make it a reality. Today we know that the all promises of life and love and family continue. There are so many great things ahead of us, more joy, more love, more photo moments. And we are nothing but thankful. So incredibly thankful. Today and every day.

drinking games ain't what they used to be

I was indulging my guilty habit the other night...watching Teen Mom. And Scott, who suffers through this with much more grace and patience than I get through World Poker Tour re-runs, innocently asks me if Farrah's mom is an alcoholic or if she's addicted to prescription medications or something. So I obligingly Google the question and...bam! up pops "Teen Mom Drinking Game." Noooooo....really?! Does such a thing exist?! Yes, yes it does.

Two comments. Maybe three.

One. You could totally get hammered if you followed these rules during an evening, but only if you add in the ones suggested in the comments. Just the ones about when Tyler (who I love!) has his hat tilted and wears clothes too big would have me passed out on the living room floor about 52 minutes into an episode. I think I will add one to drink every time Farrah whines about being broke and then promptly goes on a trip, to the spa or has plastic surgery.

Two. It's kind of sad that teens, or whoever, made up a drinking game about the teen moms. But I think we all get the underlying tragedy of this game so let's just focus on the funny, ironic part shall we?

Three. Back in my day (insert old-people joke here), we knew how to do drinking games for TV shows! I will never forget the first time we got a bunch of girls together and tried to do the Friends drinking game. It was not pretty. Especially because we were drinking some kind of sugary sex on the beach crap and kamikazes on the rocks (kind of cute and sad, right? who does drinking games with THAT?!). So we start playing, rules printed out and set conveniently on the coffee table. Why? Oh yeah, there are FOUR levels of drinking: sips, gulps, chugs and drink everything in sight. And the attention to detail is just, well...you really have to try it to appreciate it. You'd miss 3 things while you were trying to find out if you were supposed to be drinking for 1 thing and then have to catch up while someone else made refills and you kept their "tab" open for missed drinks. Crazy. It was like 30-minutes of power drinking where we were just praying for commercials. Maybe that's why we only did it that one time. Here's a little sample:

Take a sip if...

• Rachel demonstrates her lack of understanding of the real world
• Monica anal-retentively cleans or straightens up (2 sips if it's not even her stuff)
• Phoebe says a "Phoebism"
• Ross gazes longingly at Rachel (2 sips if she notices)
• Joey doesn't understand something that should be perfectly obvious (2 sips if you didn't get it either)
• Chandler makes a deadpan smartass response to a stupid comment (2 sips if you predicted it ahead of time)
• any main character makes a sweeping generalization about the opposite sex
• anyone mentions or sees Ugly Naked Guy (2 sips if you're ugly, naked, or a guy)
• any of the main characters drinks any coffee product
• the exterior of Central Perk is shown
• the interior of Chandler's and Joey's apartment is shown
• any of the main characters' parents show up
• any of the main characters are shown at work (Rachel only counts if she is wearing her apron or holding a pot of coffee)
• any of the main characters hug (2 sips for a hug involving more than two main characters, or an exaggerated hug between any of the guys)
• any of the main characters asks "What's wrong?" (2 sips if followed by "Nothing, it's just that...")

So, bring it, kids! If you're going to do a drinking game, maybe do one about fake people whose lives aren't so tragic that it kind of makes you want to drink anyway, and do it good. Gotta go. We have a bunch of Friends re-runs on Tivo and kamikaze fixins in the bar...

dirty girls

Dirty Girls.

 Have you ever hear of the Dirty Dash, a 6 mile mountainous trek that promises the following:

Have you ever said to yourself, “Marathons are too easy, and Triathlons are for sissies?”
We haven’t either…those races are really hard. Think about it…the first person to run a marathon actually died.  HE DIED!...and he probably didn’t even have fun along the way!

Well, welcome to a new kind of race: THE DIRTY DASH.  This race that puts all other races to shame.  The Dirty Dash is a mud run obstacle course where a military boot camp meets your inner five-year-old’s fantasy and subsequently converts boy to man and then man to swine. 

You’ll need endurance to trudge up mountains of sludge, courage to overcome uncompromising obstacles, a complete lack of shame to wallow in pits of mud and a smile to show through at the end!

Dirt? Mud? Sludge? Sign us up! Cuz that what's we do.

Obstacle #1...balance beam, over a mud pit. Seriously.

Greased up with dish soap before the big slide. Sweet!!!

Army wall!

Natalie after rocking the big slide!

Apparently hands like to make mud prints on butts.
There's no other explanation.

Shut up. We walked some.

No. These are not Jell-O shots. Everyone was
hoping but they were just the straight stuff.

Before we got "dirty." Literally NO idea what we were getting into.

Pig Tattoos? Perfect. Almost better than a medal.

We were the first wave of the day so we had a little less mud and guts. The reason we know this is that Natalie ran the Dirty Dash again the next weekend with her company team from Adobe, which includes my brother Marc. Dressed as Angry Birds. (video, anyone? You really should watch this!) And they were dirty dirty. Like REALLY dirty. We kind of had to try to get dirty. Which we did.

Mile One. With all the hills, it felt like more. So clean.

Climbing the walls, all military like.

The tire run! I felt like a pro football player!

Climbing hay bales! Some guys were literally jumping them.

Here piggy, piggy!

The rope climb was awesome!

Heading into the swamp. Seriously a half-mile slog through
thigh-high water filled with critters, ivy kind of stuff, and
really stinky mud. Like the kind you don't want your lady bits touching.

The last jump into the mud pit! Photo by 8 year old strangers.

Much needed. Best 4 bucks we ever spent!

The showers weren't quite as warm and relaxing as we'd
imagined. That's a power washer for heaven sake.
But not freezing was well worth it!

happy birthday?

Tagg's baby-mama's birthday was this week. We've called her every year on her birthday and on Christmas and it's always been really sweet and wonderful. So this year we called and Tagg jumped in as soon as she answered and belted out his rendition of Happy Birthday. And it was weird.

We could tell she was a little choked up. Who wasn't?! (other than Tagg who was just quite pleased with his singing skills). So we tried to chat about life and birthdays and stuff and it still seemed really awkward. It felt like she was in a place where she couldn't talk or didn't want to talk and then we started feeling bad. So we hung up the phone, and spent the next hours slash days feeling more bad. And then even more bad...

Did we just completely 100% RUIN her 18th birthday with her friends or her boyfriend by having the baby she gave up for adoption call her for a b-day serenade? My God. How absolutely stupid are we?! That might have been the most tragic, horrible thing ever when we thought it was so super-sweet. Or would it have been worse if we'd called every year for the last couple and then didn't call at all? On a big b-day. Mind-numbing arguments can be made both ways. Trust me. We've been having them.

Definitely one of those moments where you wish there was some kind of handbook for this open adoption stuff. I hope she knows and believes that the call meant that we love her and are always thinking about her, every day but especially on the big days.  The call means that we are so happy that she is doing exactly what she was supposed to be doing on this important birthday - thinking about homecoming and what colleges she's applying to and volleyball and her boyfriend and hanging out with her girlfriends and just being 18. And the call means that the baby she gifted to us is doing and being all of the things she wanted for him, and that he will always be grateful to have her in his life. Hopefully that was the gift. And it wasn't an emotional white elephant.

So happy birthday, beautiful girl!