Mother of the Year

The day after Halloween I felt like I had been hit by a truck. I woke up with circles under my eyes and got the girls ready for church. I actually don't even remember that Sunday, what was said or what took place....I do remember coming home and falling deeply into a sleepy nap that I so desperately needed.

I woke up to the sounds of Molly crying waking up from her own Sunday nap. As I reached inside the crib to hold her closely I noticed glitter in her hair. I carefully examined her blond locks trying to remember if she had participated in a craft that required glitter during her nursery class....I carried her downstairs to find Abigail spread out on the floor with empty candy wrappers surrounding her.

"Isn't Halloween the bestest ever!?" she shouted when she saw me.

"Halloween...what?" I said trying to wake up. "What is in your hair!?" I then shouted.

"I don't know" she shrugged as she stuffed another recess pieces into her mouth.

I bent down nervously to smell her hair. It was chocolate. Chocolate from candy adorned Abigail's hair, and glitter from Molly's tinkerbell costume adorned her hair. It was all slowly coming back to me now...Halloween was the day before and

I had nothing to prove for it.

No pictures. Just a messy house, tried and cranky kids, a worn out husband and a worn out me.

Thank goodness for friends who came to the Holmstead Halloweenival (a Holmstead Halloween tradition) and took pictures for me, the slacker mom who was too busy ordering pizza and making sure the music was turned up and the fog machine blowing.

And in no particular order, here is the cast of the Holmstead Halloweenival.

CARRAS-Zoolander, 6 years in a row and counting.

KATIE-The famous vampire Rosaline from the Twilight series (might I say, my costume was kind of amazing thanks to my fabulous hair stylist and dear friend, Krista.)


Abigail-Ariel (by choice)


Molly-Tinkerbell who on the night of Halloween decided that she did not want to wear her costume, but play the donut hole game instead. You will see two pictures of her, one in costume, on the day of Abigail's parade and one of her on actual Halloween in which she is not in her costume.




I wish that I could write about how amazing my Halloween was, how much candy my girls ate, and how much fun I had, but the truth is, I tried once again do too much and I felt sick Sunday night realizing that I had not snapped one shot of my girls. Sure, my friends came through and somehow managed to take pictures for me, but in the end it was me who failed. Where was the perfect pumpkin background with make up and hair done just right? Where was the perfect trick of treating picture candy in hand? Where were my priorities?

Tonight as I was looking through my phone pictures to make sure just one last time I had not taken a shot of the girl I found this taken at 8:46 PM October 31st.



Half of their costumes have been removed, hair and bodies wet from trick or treating in the rain, smiles of joy, and then I realized...oh yes, there they are. There are my two precious priorities. Mother of the Year, I did get a picture!

Witches Making "Potions"

Abigail has a friend. And this friend's name is Mia. And Mia has a mommy and this mommy's name is Alyssa. And Alyssa is Abigail's mommy's friend. And Alyssa is amazing at sending Abigai's mommy pictures, voice recordings and so on of these two playing.

It melts my heart.

Today while they played I was sent this picture. With the subject line "withces making potions"

I loved it.

I hope you do too.

Halloween pictures and posts are coming later today. I promise. In the meantime this will have to do.

Currently in LOVE with...

Oliva Broadfield. A fabulous artisit I discovered when I heard her song Holding onto you. I cannot get enough of her. I intend to listen to her right up until I change the CD's in my car to Christmas music. She makes my morning and afternoon car pool's so much more enjoyable.

Download Holding onto you (which inspired my last post) save me, probably nothing and eyes wide open.

Oh for crying outloud just download the whole thing and if you don't like it I will give you a full refund. The entire album is only 7.99 on I tunes right now.

But only because I know you will fall in love with her.

What are you listening to these days?

You Should Know I Bleed Blue

Usually when I set out to write a post I pick the title first. I am not quite sure why, but for some reason if I pick my title the rest just seems to fall into place. Tonight was no different. The title of this post was intended to be Marriage is about compromise. A plain and simple truth that most of us have heard over and over, but what does it actually mean?

I will tell you what it means.

It means taking your two little girls on a Friday night flight leaving JFK international airport in New York City and flying across the country to Salt Lake City, UT where the local time is 2:00 AM in the morning once you finally land. You wake the girls up while they scream and kick the inside of the airplane. Onlookers stare at you as you, yourself try to wake up. You grab the I-pods, sippy cups, blankets and that box of animal crackers left on the floor and exit the air craft. Once you step off the plane you devise a plan with your husband. Who will get the car, and who will stay with the girls and wait for the luggage. Both girls want to be carried because you didn't bring the double stroller. Your arms are burning as you try to carry your 5 year old and all carry on bags in one arm. Once you reach the baggage claim the one suitcase that you carefully packed the entire families clothes in is the last one off. Your phone buzzes and your husband tells you he is waiting patiently outside. You hang up the phone and realize you have two kids, one large suit case, and three carry on bags to somehow get outside. You convince your five year old to pull the suitcase and she complains. You pick up your two year old, a princess back pack and two other carry on's only to walk outside to rain. Once the car is packed you settle in for the 60 minute drive up the mountains to where you are staying. You arrive at 3:00 AM to an eager cousin and two adoring uncles just wanting to see their nieces You let them play while you sleepily put your pajamas on. Once all is quiet your husband looks over at you and says

"It's all for the Cougs babe."

I couldn't decide at that point to laugh, cry or smack him.

So I decided to laugh myself to sleep.

My alarm clock- Molly wakes Abigail and I up at 8:30 AM. We all had received just over four hours of sleep but it was game day and napping was not an option. I made eggs for my sister in law and bacon for my nephew. I watched Abigail run around screaming that this was "the best day ever!" One by one the family walked into the kitchen in their pajamas. We discussed the day and the schedule. I bathed and dressed the girls. I dug around in the suitcase wondering what had happened to my super packing skills. I did their hair, tried to do mine and ended up leaving with it wet. While putting on mascara my eyes stung due to lack of sleep. My outfit was a mess and so was I, but we pressed forward with pumpkin picking, carmel apple eating and pig racing. Carras wore his BYU hat and BYU sweatshirt proudly.

The late afternoon causes us to change out of our hay filled boots. The girls are split up, Molly to go with my brother and his wife here and Abigail to drive down to Provo for her first ever...

Cougar Game.

This is where the compromise comes in.

You see my husband is an avid, crazy, psychotic at times BYU football fan. Come the fall our Saturday's are literally planned around the games. Good moods are based on wins, bad moods are based on losses. Boxes are shipped to the house every year with new sweatshirts, hats, and outfits for the girls. In other words, it is a big deal to him.

I remember having a serious conversation with him once. We were discussing what we could do to be better spouses to each other. The tone was serious as I was explaining what I needed from him. When the tables were turned I looked him straight in the eye and asked what I could do better. His response?

"I would really like it if you got into Cougar football more."

I almost fainted. Not just because of what he said, but because he was heart felt and dead serious. It was from that moment that I decided to no longer just accept his crazy obsession but to embrace it. In the same conversation he expressed his desire to one day make it a tradition to take our children to Lavell Edwards stadium (where we met) once a year for a game. This was before he knew he was to have two girls. I of course supported him in that dream and thought it was actually rather adorable.

This was the first year we made his dream come true.

The Cougars lost but in the end it did not even matter. What mattered was looking over at Carras holding Abigail. She wore a BYU sweatshirt with the Cougar claw on her left hand. Her team beads around her neck, and cotton candy around the sides of her mouth as she cheered right along with her dad.

The next day we ate with family, visited Grandparents and packed our bags for the all night flight. We left Salt Lake City at 12:11 AM and arrived in New York at 6:47 AM. The girls were cranky, and tired. They cried as we waited for our bags. They cried as we carried them to the car, they cried on the way home until in their own beds, but in the craziest way possible I can honestly say it was worth it. It was my chance to show my husband that no matter how crazy, or in my world how silly this little obsession he has is, it is his and therefore it is mine, and in the end that it what marriage is about. I have learned so much about myself throughout this process. I have learned the true power of giving of ones self to another. To make this sacrifice, and the work that was involved just to get my little family there. To letting go of any sort of pride involved in cheering for the Cougs. To being ok with your daughter wearing a cheesy blue sweatshirt, to becoming a true fan, and to actually liking it.

Besides I don't do it for the Cougs. I do it for him.

I do

a picture is worth a thousand words...or say they say. It is true. Pictures can often speak more to the heart then words.

We spent the day in central park taking pictures with Blue Lily. We had the perfect weather. I cannot remember a fall day as beautiful as today. The leaves are at their peek, the sun was shinning, and we photographed in a comfortable 74 degrees. Abigail was a rock star but Molly was stubborn, Carras was an amazing sport and I was stressed to the max. Wendy kept assuring me "everything was fine" but I wanted the perfect shot. I wanted to somehow capture my relationship with the girls, and our relationship as a family. Could we do it? Could we pull it of?

You will just have to wait to find out....These things take time you know.

In the meantime a little story about why I choose Blue Lily. A dear friend that I met in California had used Wendy and her husband Tyler for their Family pictures last year. Sus gave me the password to look through her pictures to help her choose her favorites. I was floored. The pictures were amazing, real, and unique. They captured each of her four children perfectly. Their different personalities coming out in each picture were evident. I had never seen professional pictures that captured what the heart of a family really is about.

But time passed....and the need for my own family picture faded from my mind.

Then last July a friend sent me this.

I looked to see who had taken the shot and again, it was Blue Lily. I picked up the phone and a sweet voice said

"hello, this is Wendy."

"oh...um, hi" I stuttered. "My name is Katie, but I live out east, I don't know if you ever come this way....." I was making no sense.

"Oh!" she said rather cheerfully. "We are coming to New York in the fall. Central Park."

Central Park, in the fall? I booked, signed, and drooled, right there. It was as if she was reading my mind. I Katie, take thee Wendy, to come to New York in October, to photograph my family. Oh and can we make it Central Park?

I do.

And that day was today.

Thanks Wendy. Thanks Tyler. Thanks for the quarters, the bribery, the laughs, for talking me out of wearing black, and for making the haul to this amazing City that I love with all of my heart.

Especially in the fall.

Fall Afternoon at Grandma's.

Make believe is a great place to be.....

Where the Wild Things Are

A couple of weeks ago Carras and I took the girls to see a movie, not something that we do very often with a four year old and a two year old. We were seated parent, child, parent child. Each girl had a treat of their own and a bucket of popcorn to hopefully keep them seated through at least the previews. The lights were dimmed, sound system in check and the movie previews began.

Right as I reached for a twizzler, my hand stopped, my mouth hung open, and my heart melted. Eyes watering already during a preview is never a good sign.

I had heard a rumor years ago that a certain book would be turned into a movie but I refused to believe it. I could not possibly see how a book this great and short in length but deep in message could be messed with by Hollywood. It turned out I was wrong, and it indeed has been made into a movie. My eyes became huge as the music started and I saw for the first time Max in character and his furry friends. My heart tightened and I could not control the emotions. I was crying.

Carras looked over confused. "Whats wrong?" he asked. "Are you ok?"

"This book", I tried to say but could not finish. "This book" I tried again but the sobs were harder at that point. Then I mustered up the only words I could.

"Ben used to....."

Carras casually gave me that "your crazy but I love you anyway" look and reached over to grab my hand. After 10 years he knows me well enough to just leave it there.

You see for the first 13 years of my life I grew up with just boys. Four to be exact and when my mom announced to the family that she was pregnant with number five I remember skipping merrily into my pink room to think about all of the things that my new little sister and I would do together. I had never had a sister and after three rowdy and dirty brothers this was finally going to be my chance.

What happened next it one of my mom's favorite stories to recall of my younger years. It was just weeks before the arrival. The nursery was set, the family excited and I quietly walked downstairs in my night gown and socks to find my mom talking with my dad. What I said next stunned them. "Mom and Dad, I want you to know that I have been praying for the new baby and I know now that is is going to be a boy." I remember the look on their faces as I continued. "But it's ok" I said "because I am good with boys."

Three weeks later my mom gave birth to a new baby boy. They named him Ben.

Then it was official. I was the only girl in a family of four boys. One older and three younger. My childhood memories consist of playing basketball on the sports court with my older brother, walking to school with him and to our favorite local candy shop. My memories of my younger brothers consist of reading. Reading to them whenever and wherever we could. In their beds, in my beds, and in our parents bed when they traveled. On the porch at night with a blanket spread or in our back yard. Whenever it seemed like mom had, had enough with four rough and tough boys, I knew that the minute I offered to read to them, they became calm, sweet and eager.

Where the Wild Things Are was Ben's favorite.

"Again" he would say over and over as he ran around wearing a cowboy hat and cowboy boots." I would agree. He would climb to the top of the bed post as I read pretending to be Max sailing away on his boat. He would march right along side the bed as Max marched along side his furry friends and when Max climbed back from his make believe world to find his warm dinner, Ben would climb into his own bed and lay his head on my shoulder. He then would grab the book from me and ask "Can I sleep with it?" "Sure" I would answer laughing. And as I switched the light off I knew that Ben would reopen the book to find Max's world.

Fast forward 30 years later and I am dinning with friends at a swank New York City restaurant. My dear friend tells me of her young daughters sadness of being the only girl in her family of three brothers. I sat back and smiled at those memories of being her exact age feeling that same sadness, but I had to tell my friend that those four stinky, annoying, crazy and down right hysterical boys are now my best friends. That I would not trade one day of my childhood for anything in this entire world. That the days spent playing sports, watching sports, catching frogs, building forts, getting hit in the head with nerf guns, and reading Where the Wild Things Are over and over are the days that define the person and the mother I am today.

I don't think I can adaquately express what these wild boys mean to me. Nope, that was easy, I can't. They are now all grown, Ben being the youngest, some are married, some are not. I often find myself drifting off into my own dreamland of when we were young and free. I can see Spencer out late shooting hoops on the sports court while mom begs him to come in and start on his homework. I can see Nate on the trampoline with no shirt, no socks and no shoes. He is working to master the "donky honk" while Andrew looks on. I can see Andrew hanging on Nate's every word and smiling that adorable dippled smile at me when I walk in from school.

And I can see Ben. King of the wild things, always in costume, holding this book with his arms stretched out hoping for the magic that comes along with turning it's pages.

And I see me, hoping and longing for that same magic as I am right there beside him.



If you don't have time to go and see the movie you need to at least download the soundtrack. It is adorable and great for the kiddies. Enjoy.

Denial and Letterman

Me too J.Crew....me too.

Sorry folks...that's all I've got tonight. I love the fall but when the temperatures are already in the low 40's in October, I find myself longing for clear summer nights and craving a girls weekend to California (yes girlies, you know who you are. When can we set it up?)

Molly has a double ear infection, Carras has been working all hours of the night and yes we are still working on the new design of hey katie girl...

Stay tuned...

If you want...

I don't blame you if you have already given up...

Meanwhile I am going to sleep and I will be dreaming of my inability to accept what I cannot change.

Like Cold weather

Like babies getting sick

Like husbands who work in stressful jobs

but grateful for

modern medicine

gorgeous leaves

and that my husband has a job.

P.S. after living outside NYC for over 20 years I finally did this on Monday night....it was a hoot.

A Bouguet of Pencils

That Nora Ephron...she really is amazing and let's face it I have never ever seen a movie of hers that I did not love, I repeat..that I did not love.

I have many favorite fall activities that are my own personal traditions. Pumpkin chocolate chip cookies must accompany every BYU game watched on television with my fanatic husband, apple picking with my girls, pumpkin picking with my dad, pumpkin carving with the family, Ella Fitzgearld's rendition of Autumn in New York, and of course that oh so cozy movie

You've Got Mail.

My heart melts every time I hear Tom Hanks say "Dont you just love New York in the fall? It makes me wanna buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address. On the other hand, this now knowing has it's charms."

I can't quite express it but my heart still melts when I hear him say that line. Once the leaves on the trees start to change this movie calls my name. It brings wonderful memories along with just the pleasure of a perfectly written script, sweet characters and a fantastic setting.

Try it. I promise. It will become a new fall favorite.

Thanks to everyone who voted! The new name has been picked (it just might surprise you) stay tune for a brand new blog....

Or...Vive La Vie

There is no better place to be in the month of October then Connecticut. And to prove it I spent the entire better half of the day at the beach with my girls, in 70 degree weather while the fall foliage surrounded us.

Can you say perfect? (not me or my kids, we are far from it, but the weather)

Per designer request, the voting polls are still open. Thank you all so much for your comments about the blog change. It really does mean so much. More than anything it is just so amazing to hear from so many of you that I rarely get to hear from.

and if you have not voted yet, you still can. See post below.

So from me, Katie girl who as it has been pointed out, loves the posh in life, but also embraces the apple sauce might I say to all of you thank you, thank you.

Vive la vie.

I know I did today.

Pish Posh

The verdict is in, my blog is a mess. This I know. And as of a week ago I had no idea what I was going to do about it. I had tried to do some "modifications" on my own and just completely ruined the entire website. I even went so far as to call the Geek Squad to see when they could come to my rescue but the soonest time slot they had was October 21st. Oh and by the way the Geek Squad knows nothing about blogging (he told me so himself).

Cue Blog designer Megan.

This girl has brought light to the darkness that has descended over hey katie girl. She has given me hope when I thought all hope was lost. She has helped me believe that blogs are good and can be good when done right! (is anyone sensing my sarcastic tone yet)? But really I love her, what more can I say. After several conversations and late night chatter we have decided that the blog needs a complete and total makeover. New name, new layout, new header, new button, new html format (see how far I have already come) and so on and so forth...so now

Cue you.

That's right, lucky you. While your children are tucked away in bed, or your feet are resting comfortably on your ottoman after a long day of hard work, you get to read on and help me pick my new name for my new blog.

But before you do, a brief background if I may. When I decided to start a blog I really had no idea what the blog would become. I knew that I needed a place to record feelings and thoughts, but mostly I needed a place where I could record my world and my life as a mom. You see I think that every woman is so magnificent that I long for their wisdom and advice. Mother or not, I have learned more from friends, single, married, mothers, non mothers, aunties, my mother, grandmothers, sisters, and cousins then from anyone else. I think that the power women can portray to others with their words is a blessing I feel lucky to have. I am not saying I am one of these magnificent women who can bless with words but more so what fuels my fire is that one day my girls will have these words for themselves to help them and guide them through their own days of motherhood, which can be both good and bad (because God knows we have both). This is why I write, for them. But wait we were talking about you and why I need your help, not me. Sorry.

Back to the name.

I originally wanted KissmeKatie.blogspot.com but that was taken, so was KissmeKate. Many of my friends call me Katie girl, and that is where I came up with the name heykatiegirl.blogspot.com but the truth is it never felt right. Every time I would type the blog name in the computer my eyes would linger on the title thinking how not me it was.

So..

Megan and I have narrowed it down to three. I will write them for you to see and explain each one. At the end of this post will you pleeeeeeeeeeeease leave a comment or e-mail me and let me know which one you like the best?

Here it goes. Don't laugh.

Option 1) Kiss Me K. (www.kissmek.blogspot.com) The explanation behind this name has been explained (see above). When the world of blogging was introduced to me, this was the name I envisioned myself having. Because the others are taken, KissmeK is the next best option.

Option 2) Vive La Vie (www.vivelavie.blogspot.com) which translates as Live the day in french. This idea came from fashion designer Diane Von Furstenburg's spring collection. Her clothing was designed as care free, loose, and their motto for that particular collection was Live the day. When I first saw her spring collection I thought it was genius. To be honest, and don't let this steer you one way or the other, this is my favorite.

Option 3) Posh Applesauce (www.poshapplesauce.blogspot.com) This one is tricky, but also my blog designers favorite. The other day Abigail overheard me explaining to my friend my dilemma in needing to change my blog. My friend said to me "You have to ask yourself what your blog is about?" "That's the thing I replied, it is just a bunch of pish posh. A collection of my thoughts, my opinions." I continued "It's stories about the kids, about my family and life as a mother. Just PISH POSH!" All of the sudden Abigail chimed in, turned to me and said "pish posh apple sauce?" in her high voice. I looked at my friend and said..."that's it! Pish posh applesauce should be the name of my blog!" My brilliant moment became not so brilliant after I found out very quickly that blog name too was already taken. My clever blog designer came up with this shortened alternative.

Option 4) and the last option is to not change the name, keep it the same and just revamp the layout. (but don't let this be because you are too lazy to change the new name in your archives).

Again please do not let my personal favorite (or Meghan's for that matter) make the decision for you. I want honest opinions because I really do value them. Even if you have never left a comment in your lives please just this once, take the time to let me know what you think. Closing ends tomorrow night! (or when Meghan says so). Yes, I love her a little too much....

Until then

Vive La Vie!

Mommy Elizabeth

I walked into the room in my mothers house today which she refers to as the Children's study. The Children's study is basically just a code name for "room filled with messy papers, computers, homework folders, high lighters and i pod connectors." But let's face it Children's study does sound better and much more dignified. I have many memories in this room. This is where I wrote every single late night paper in high school. This is the room in which the phone rang hoping it was that certain boy asking me to senior prom, and this is the room still where all the books read to me as a child are stacked high into the shelves. I love this room. Pictures of my siblings from babies till graduation hang on the walls. Art projects given to my mom decades ago shower the shelves, it is a room full of memories. Whenever the six siblings are home and together, this is the room we all seem to congregate in, even if by accident, this is where we seem to find one another.

And so when I walked into this room today and found Aunt Lily playing with Abigail and Molly I smiled.

I found it incredibly ironic tonight that right at the same time that I found this picture taken on my computer...I also received this e-mail from my mom. The e-mail was entitled We are Blessed.

Dear Kids,

Dad and I had separate but similar parenting moments yesterday and as we spoke about them today on the phone we both shared the same thought- how blessed we are to have such wonderful children that have become such wonderful parents.

Dad spoke of Nathaniel coming up to Caspian and bringing Baby Gabe so Dayna could catch a break and being so dear with him and there was brother Andrew right by his side comforting his nephew and being so tender with him.

Dad said as he feel asleep last night he had tears of gratitude in his eyes as he thought about these two boys that had grown into such fine men.

I had the opportunity yesterday of listening to Spencer tell how he had helped Connor to better understand how to deal with a struggle that he was having at school. It was brilliant, he could write a book on how to talk with a child in such a way that he could understand and relate to. I was blown away with his ability to stop and teach his darling boy.

I have the opportunity to watch Katie on a daily basis showing such patience with her two girls but the thing I enjoy the most is the way she truly gets such a kick out of them- like tonight when we discovered that Abby has face painted Randy the dog so he would look like a butterfly. Katie knows when to laugh and enjoy such moments as these.

To Ben and Elizabeth watch and learn, you have some great examples. There is not doubt in my mind that when the time comes you two as well and Drewbe will rise to the occasion.

For now please know of our gratitude and love for the way you take such wonderful care of our grandchildren and for the fine people you are.

We love you all dearly, MOM and DAD

And I had to wonder. Is Elizabeth watching me or am I watching her? She teaches me how important it is to have fun. She reminds me to laugh when I want to scream, and in her subtle way she has already risen to the occasion several times since I started having my own children. She is wise beyond her years and wants so much to do what is right. My girls love her as do I. My girls love their uncles and aunties as do I.

This picture reminds me of just how much.

Martha, Martha, Martha

Is it disappointing or is it ok to discover that someone you thought was incredibly stuffy and boring actually is...well how do I put this....incredibly stuffy and boring? I had that exact experience today which leads me to a moment that I like to call blogger confession. I am entirely and truly not a Martha Stewart fan. I never have been. In fact even in the early days when she was on a rise and becoming bigger and bigger by the minute I was that girl in the check out stand picking up a copy of her magazine trying to find a reason to buy it. The recipes looked intimidating and every time I saw something that I liked for house or home I wanted to know where to buy it...not find instructions on the next page of how to make it...which leads me to my next confession..

I wish I were more crafty.

I really do. I admire women who can sew, make birds nests out of straw and cook a rack of lamb for their family all in one day. I wish I desired a craft room full of ribbons and matching boxes, with jars of scissors and tape, but I don't. I desire a room that I can call my own, but I want it filled with my children's art work, good books, a beautiful lamp, no wait make that two beautiful lamps (but each different) an area rug that is unlike any other, good music, and lots of flowers, real flowers, cut from my garden...which brings me to my third and final confession.

I love a good garden. My obsession started shortly after I married my husband and after living in London. The gardens in London whether it was a public park or someone's common gardens (a term they use instead of private gardens) are immaculate. They are cared for, thought out, beautifully pruned and unlike anything I have seen. (Remember the scene in Nottinghill where Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant have their first kiss after they have climbed the walls to a garden? All is quiet, it is green and lush and beautiful. The music starts and as Hugh tries to talk, Julia turns around to kiss him. That ladies is not made up. Those gardens really do exist and are that beautiful). Shortly after returning to the States my American husband (who by that time truly believed he was meant to be British) and I bought our very first home. It was old, but had charm. The garden had been clearly neglected and before we did one thing to the inside of the house we started on the outside. Many evenings and Saturday's were spent outside and occasionally this American man turned British would spend time alone outside evaluating what was growing, and what was not. He became so wrapped up in our English gardens that he was later inspired to write his Business school essay around his own ability to create, which not only got him into Stanford University but was read at the opening ceremonies of his first year.

But back to Martha. I got to see a taping of her show today in New York. I was so hoping that she would be funnier, happier, and less of a well oiled machine when the cameras were off but I am sad to say, she is just the same if not worse. She looked good. She has great legs, but the poor woman just lacks a personality.

But hey...she's got one hell of a Garden.

Besides seeing my 'friend' Emily, the very best part of the day was the drive to and from the City with my mom. Driving in my dad's car (shhhhh) and listening to old Burt Bacharachs hits with city views was comfort for the soul. The car blasted with I Say a Little Prayer, Walk on By, and my favorite What the world needs now is Love sweet love.

Maybe...someone outta tell Martha.



Thanks Em for the tickets and to see me and my adorable group of girls (including my mom) tune in Friday, September 25th at 11:00 AM eastern standard time.

Indian Summer

I find it incredibly fitting that on the very last day of Summer I post my Summer pictures.
It's oficially over. Even Abigail and I's 14 days.
I learned so much. Important things. I also learned a lot of
non important things...but mostly I was reminded of what I already know.

I LOVE MY FAMILY.

Weddings...




Lazy days with friends..




Soccer Games





My happy places of all happy places....Sun Valley. All 76 of us.











Lazy days at the Cabin....

The Ragnar High

My Phone vibrated with a text tonight. I picked it up to find a message from my cousin.

"You have not blogged for over 10 days, what is your problem? Are you out of material?"

My stomach turned at the sight of the number 10. 10 Days. Had it really been 10 days since I blogged last? That could not be right. I checked the date of my last blog post and realized that she was wrong. It has not been 10 days. It Actually had been more. I then had to laugh at the assumption that I was out of material. Quite the contrary in fact. I have too much material. To much inside my head to keep it straight. And instead of doing what most good bloggers do-which is record things as they happen, I record things when and only if I feel like it. When the writing urge snaps me and takes me into that world that I love so much, that writing world where nothing can stop me...that is when I blog.

And tonight, I am happy to say, I am in that world. So pull up a chair. I have a lot to say.

This past weekend, I along with 11 other amazing women ran the New England Ragnar Race. No, that was not a typo, and yes I ran another Ragnar. My dear friend Mel (who I ran the Ragnar in Utah with) decided back in the spring to put together a team for the first ever New England Ragnar. This race would take us from New Haven, CT to Boston, MA. Mel's vision was clear. She wanted an all girls team and she wanted to run for a cause. After the team was taken care of and the runners picked, the cause was still to be determined. Not long after, it was clear who and what we would run for. I will never forget when Mel had told me her idea.

"I think we should run for Jennifer."

I thought over and over about "running for Jennifer." I thought about this woman that I had known almost my entire life. I thought about her sons who are dear friends with my siblings and nights spent with them playing pool basketball or grilling hot dogs. I thought about these boys and how the circle of Life has brought them back to teach my daughters how to swim. I thought about walking into church the first day Jennifer had lost all of her hair and watching her stand proudly at the pulpit wearing a hat with large flower on the side. As she spoke to the congretation about motherhood I was overcome with her courage. Mel was inspired. Running for Jennifer was not a good idea, it was perfect.

The training started once again. Except this time around we all had each other. We had a support group of 12 women discussing the aches and pains, but mostly the highs of running. We had each other for the gently reminders of why we were doing this and who exactly we were running for. I would look at Jennifer during church and picture her body when it was strong. I used to envy the energy she would display while she would calm 52 primary children with such grace or run her boys around from activity to activity all the while displaying her dimples for all to see.

Her face echoed over and over in mind as I rised early in the morning to train. When I found myself weary of the long runs or the early mornings, I pictured Jennifer and I wanted to be better, more patient, and more grateful.

With a month to go, we picked the final name for our team that would accompany us to the finish line. Jen's wonder women. We dressed as Wonder women complete with socks and wrist bands. Once the morning of the race was upon us, I looked around to find us all dressed in our costumes standing in the rain. The sun, not yet upon us caused me to reflect on the reverence of what we were doing and why we were there. I was so proud at that moment. I was so proud to be part of such a cause and to be part of such an amazing group of women.

After 194.9 miles, 32 hours, 36 different legs of runners, two tanks of gas, a dead car battery, many bathroom breaks, 6 seperate rain storms, 2 hours of sleep, a skunk,a wild pig chase, many handfuls of trail mix, 17 different dance parties, and too many laugh attacks to count, I was reminded of why I run. There was a moment when I was running alone. The clock was way past the midnight hour and I still had over five miles to go. As the music played in my I-pod I was taken to a place where only runners can go. I thought of my girls, I thought of Carras, I thought of Jennifer. I was so overcome with emotion and gratitude for the life that I live. The heavens were opened and I felt a warmth that I needed to finsih the race.



I was also reminded of how proud I am to be a woman and how amazing and powerful we can be...as long as we have each other.



As our team entered the Harvard football stadium in historical downtown Boston, I saw something that I will hold with me for the rest of my days. There in the middle of the Ragnar finish line was Jennifer with her husband by her side. She was dressed in her signature breast cancer color-pink. They had made the three hour drive up to see our team cross the finish line. In her hands-a home made sign that read simply

I love my girls. and on the opposite side, Thank you.

"I am going to cross the finish line with you." she said softly.

The tears came. We all put our arms around Jennifer and then joined hands and walked across that finish line with her at our side. We were complete. We were a team.

Jen's Wonder Women.

It was an experience like no other. I came home and wrapped my arms around Abigail and Molly. I retold story after story to Carras until I cried myself to sleep. My tears were of complete joy, that such an accomplishment could be made all in the name of a woman we all loved. It is a high that is impossible to top.



The Ragnar High.