500th post !

This week we reached our 500th blog post. In March it will be 6 years- 6 eventful, crazy, years since we started this blog. We started posting in Provo when it was just the 2 of us and life was ridiculously simple. 

Over the 500 posts this blog has given me reason to reflect, to put my thoughts to words, to take pictures, and a chance to laugh, over and over, again at my kids.  Writing an occasional post gives me an excuse to think. It gives me an outlet to communicate ideas and unload my mind.

This blog  is a journal.  Yes, I do my share of bragging about my kids, but that's not the point. I don't link it on facebook, even some of my closest friends don't know about it, and I like it that way.  It's not that it's exclusive, I just don't want to worry about photo-shopping or censoring my writing. I want this blog to be a place where I am myself and a place that feels authentically Firthy. 

 I feel like in my kids, in my family, I have a wonderful gift - a gift that lives thousands of miles from their friends and family. This blog allows me to do a little less hoarding their cuteness and dynamic personalities and gives me an opportunity to share them with people they love.

As I have looked back on our 500 posts I have laughed a lot. There have been lots of goofy moments, lots of fun days, and many nostalgic memories that if I could revisit and soak in again, I would. Mixed in the posts there are a few hard times, a few embarrassing posts I would rescind (my Sarah Palin endorsement and a few gloriously pregnant pics,) but they've always been outnumbered with good times that I treasure-  and I'd say that pretty much sums up my life. 

 In the past 500 posts we've all grown a lot. Some of us have gotten taller, all of us have gotten smarter. Brady and I have gone from newlyweds to seasoned parents. Brady went from undergrad, to masters, to (almost a )Phd.  I've spent many a satisfying day enjoying mothering with walks to the park, and snuggling up with my kids and a good book. Liam has gone from a little baby with spiky black hair to a a curious, gregarious, kindergartner.  Elsie has gone from crawling to riding a scooter while singing about dragons.

I can predict some of the the next 500 posts, but for most of them, like most of life, we'll just have to wait and see . . . 

Rugby

 For Brady, there is nothing quite like rugby. He loves everything about it- the tackling, the technique, the culture, the danger, being with manly boys. It's good to see him happy, and he's like a kid in a candy shop when he suits up to play. He's been playing in a mens league when he can and enjoying it.

(Rugby and I, on the other hand, have a turbulent relationship. I still haven't forgiven rugby for abuse over the years- the separated a/c joint, multiple concussions, and all the tweaks, sprains, and strains along the way. Lets just say, I won't be signing Liam up for rugby any time soon (or ever.))

Brady was on fire this game. He scored, had 4 assists, and picked up yardage every time he got the ball. The kids had a great time cheering for him too. Liam never tired of cheering "Go Dad!" over and over and Elsie loved to point and say "dats my daddy!"

Halloween Party

 I love Halloween parties. I love drinking punch out of steaming punch bowls, the treats, and all the ridiculous, somewhat tacky, decorations. We had a Halloween party this Friday and had a great time with friends, old and new.  We carved pumpkins, ate pizza and played a few games. Liam helped make monster invitations and decorate the house with cobwebs, spider rings, bats and leaves.

 It was fun to meet some of Liam's school friends and their nice families.

What grandmas can do once they're dead

I'm not sure exactly what grandmas can do once they're dead.   I'd like to think at major family events like weddings and baby births the deceased can get a guest pass.  Maybe they can make (non)appearances where they can hang out like invisible angels, felt but not seen.  And it only seems fair that they at least got to spy on their own funerals, right?

I'd like to think that on days when I could use their encouragement that I can say a little prayer to them and God, with all his infinite connections, will pass on the word. I like to think that some days I still make them proud and they are bragging about my cute kids to other dead grandma friends. Some days I'm pretty happy with an arrangement of meeting up in the next life. Other days, I would give anything to summon a warm grandma hug.

 I love the Mormon notion that despite death we are still connected to our ancestors and furthermore  that we need them and they need us. But what can we, the dead and the living, actually do for each other? I remember praying for my grandma shortly after she passed and abruptly stopping myself, asking "Is it ridiculous to pray for a dead person?"  The prayer was humorously similar to a prayer you'd give to send off a kid to college "Please bless that she'll have a good adjustment, please bless that she'll know we love her, that things will be okay . . ." But the dead probably don't need our prayers. That prayer was probably for my use alone.

 I love the idea of family members being our occasional helping angels or heavenly cheerleaders.  That said, I'd easily trade a little bit of this intangible, heavenly  'help' for a package of  my grandma's homemade cookies. Yes, the concept is comforting, which is probably why this idea is easily shared, but it hasn't been manifested in my experiences. At the same time, it came really natural to both of my grandmas to give, and give, and give, to their families and it only makes sense that on the other side, they're still on a roll.

The closest thing to ''beyond the grave communication'' I've experienced is a letter received from my already deceased grandma.   It came in the mail like a surprise from heaven.  It was actually written the week before she died, sent a few weeks after, and it was her love, her wisdom, her last thoughts.  I cherish this letter.  I wish that I could write back and another one would generate.  I wish I had a hundred more of them. But I guess I just need to appreciate what I've already received.

Part of my faith is a hope that death is not the end.  My gut tells me there are more long conversations to be had and holidays yet to be celebrated with my grandmothers. But some days, in the here and now, I just wish death wasn't so final. 

 Liam, being the sweet, sweet boy that he is, went outside to rake leaves for his mom. He made a pile so big that he wanted to wear a life vest to jump in it (for padding) :)

Liam loves it when he sees pictures of himself and discovers they are blurry. He says that means he was going lightening-speed. As you can tell by these pictures, the kid is practically a cheetah.

 Elsie also made a pile of leaves but hers wasn't big enough to really jump in. When I told her we could add leaves to it she told me "No thanks, den it wont be a baby pile." . . . She likes things little and cute, just like her.

 We live in a place with lots of nifty places to visit and cool little streets to stroll.  This restaurant here is our favorite, it's called "Founding Farmers," in downtown D.C. a few blocks north of the Whitehouse.  It was voted by the Washington Post as "favorite Obama Date Night Spot." The food comes from local sources and everything, down to their ketchup, is handmade.  It's 'kid tolerant' enough that we don't need a babysitter but cool enough to make eating there feel like a special occasion.We went for brunch and had a delightful time.