A Thanksgiving Home

Moving is never easy.  No matter if you move across the country (which we have done) or to another country (which we have also done) or just down the road (which we just did).  

A move is a move.  And this move in particular has been no different. 

Actually, I should not say that.  It has been different.  It feels very right, and I have had non stop support throughout the entire process.  Honestly I felt like a new mother the way my fridge was filled to the brim every night with food, or the days that my children were taken care of.  My family, my friends, those who I have become close too since moving here two years ago have been there for me with a listening ear, or hand, support, advice and amazing perspective.

But is still has been really hard.

You see, a very ugly, dark side of me comes out in times like these.  A side that I wish I could do away with.  A side that my husband hates, and that makes my girls question their mothers sanity.  It is called the "perfectionist" side.  I want everything done now and I want it done right.  There is no time for mistakes, there is no room for excuses, let's just press on and get it done.  But this house has been different.  It has by far the most space that we have ever had as a married couple (most of our years have been spent in apartments in larger cities) and I have found myself completely overwhelmed by the project at hand.  I have on more then one occasion just sat down on the hard wood floors with my head in my hands, my eyes closed, boxes surrounding me just trying to figure out the next step only to never figure it out.  

When my husband I lived in London we had each other, a purple couch, a bed, and great friends.  That was it.  I remember getting an apartment warming gift via royal mail from my mom.  Attached was a hand written note that said "enjoy this time.  In a way it will be the easiest time in your lives.  No children, no car, no yard, and no house.  Just enjoy each other."  I read it not understanding.  I read it today with complete understanding.  

Because of the stress of the move I was so looking forward to Thanksgiving for a little break from the manual labor.  My entire family was going to be in town and when I say entire family I mean all 18 of us including my Grandpa.  Somewhere in the last five years we have doubled.  Doubled our numbers, and doubled our pleasure (sorry I could not resist).  We really have turned into a big, crazy, family that you could make a Holiday movie about staring Vince Vaughn.  But through the drama I find myself at the end of every Holiday so grateful for my siblings, for my parents and this year for my in-laws.  What everyone forgets to tell you when your a 7 year old girl in the midst of four stinky and hyper brothers is that four brothers actually equals four amazing, sweet, funny, and talented sister-in-laws.  They treat my children as if they were their own, they respect my parents, they put up with our silly family traditions and best of all they LOVE my brothers.

Oh do they love those Checketts boys.  But I can't blame them really.

So tonight as I walked past my Tiffany blue guest room and saw the bed neatly made but empty I had that familiar pain of another Holiday over,  and another sad goodbye to my brothers who all live so far away.  The stress of the work that still needed to be done in the house came back with full vengeance. This caused the pain of those gone to be worse.   Again my normally "go get em" attitude was being replaced with a overwhelmed, frantic one.  So instead of digging back into the work I gathered my little family into our big empty family room and asked everyone to draw me a picture of what they wanted their new house to be.  I felt like all my focus had been on fabrics and colors, instead of the things that really make a house a home.

But Abigail reminded me. 

Her one wish for our house?  That it was big enough for her whole family to live there.  She drew a picture of a Christmas tree with all of her cousins, uncles, aunts, grandma's and grandpa's faces hanging from the branches.

She does not care one bit if her room has been painted or if her lamps match.  She does not care if I have hung the pictures in the living room or if my book shelves have been filled.  She cares who is here with her.  A true people person and lover of life.  She constantly reminds me what I have to be thankful for. 

A home and a family that fills it.    

Thankful for Baking Powder

I forgot to buy baking powder. Who forgets to buy backing powder when their one assignment for the entire Thanksgiving dinner is dessert?

Me.

My house is quiet (that never happens). Molly is asleep and Carras has run to get the baking powder that his wife forgot, and Abigail is at her grandma and grandpa's playing with her cousins.

Does life get better then this?

Today I am thankful for

My man who says "I'll go" when I have informed him of my silly mistake and runs to rescue me by finding the only grocery store open today that has baking powder.



My oldest daughter Abigail who last week told her primary class that her favorite thing in the whole world is to bake pumpkin cookies with her mom.



and to my Molly Dollies who lets me read her Goodnight Moon no matter what time in the day and who naps so mom can make the pumpkin cookies and so that Dad can go and get the baking powder.



and lastly...I am thankful for my forgetful mind who I inherited from my wonderful mother which allowed me to forget the baking powder, which forced me to stop baking, which caused me to have a moment to sit and reflect on how blessed I truly am.

A Believer

When I walked into my parents house last Sunday I found my dad eating a bowl of cereal with glossed over eyes.

"You look tired" I said as I reached out to give him a hug.

"I am so sick of being on the road and being away from home."  He responded as he picked up my Abigail and swung her into the air.

Just one week earlier we had moved out of their home 20 minutes away into our own.  Out of everyone, Abigail was having the hardest time coping with not seeing her Grandpa as often.  A smile lit up on her face as he held her.

I kept the conversation rolling.  "Of course your tired, you have been on three different time zones in a matter of six days."  And that is just his norm.

"But your coming to Seattle this weekend, right?"  He asked.

I honestly do not know where this man gets his drive, or his energy.

My dad has worked in sports for twenty five years.  It is what I know and how I grew up.  I lived and breathed basketball and hockey.  Instead of watching Annie I watched NBA Basketball bloopers with my brothers.  The smell of a Spalding Basketball brings me comfort and nothing gives me more of a thrill then watching a live NHL game.  To top it all off give me a quiz about NBA in the 80's and 90's and I will blow your socks off.  It was as I have said, my life.

Seven Years with the Utah Jazz, two years with the NBA, eleven Years with the New York Knicks and the New York Rangers and not one championship.  Winning isnt everything I remember hearing over and over, but when you are in this line of work...I hate to say it, but it kind of is.  Growing up this way has had it's ups and downs, but that is a whole other post and for now will only be kept in the vault of Katie's thoughts because today, today I am just proud of my dad.

Because in Seattle his first ever professional sports team won a championship.

When my dad told the family that he wanted to become involved in soccer, my older brother and I who are products of the Utah Jazz were shocked.  I remember Spencer and I looking at each other several times as if to say "is he serious?"

But he was.  And he believed when no one else believed.  He kept going when all had abandoned him, he held his head high when the press attacked, and when the public attacked.  He stood strong on days when anyone else would have become weak, he somehow found a way to fight, to work, to sweat and to believe.  

And so to Seattle I flew, with Abigail in toe for a mother, daughter weekend and to witness History.

For our family at least. 

For more information on this story and for a way better written blog go here.

The Nearness of You

• 

• 

Thank you Blue Lily.  Thank you.

Moving Week

It's moving week. Which means no sleep, break downs, lots of paper plates, great friends who stop their lives to help, dinners brought and my ever dedicated mom who has helped me in every single one of our moves. I seriously don't know how to unpack a kitchen without her....

Here is the first thing I did in the new house....



And yesterday as I walked around trying to find where in the world my Johnathon Adler book ends went...I found the first thing that Carras did in the new house...



Goodness Gracious...

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.