Hello. I am a mom and it's my birthday...

Yep. I am 45 today! Go Me! 

In the words of my own mom, "I am sorry you are so old."

It's okay because I started this adult-mom thing so long ago so I am actually pretty damn young. I mean I am not only a mom, I am a grandma.

But that isn't the point.  The point is I am in my pajamas watching the news, drinking coffee that I made from a kitchen I cleaned and I will have cleaned 3 or 4 mores times before this day celebrating my special day ends.

No one is going to make me breakfast, well maybe Beach will try.  She will make me pancakes from the batter she made herself pancakes yesterday that she put in a questionable jar in the fridge.   

I will eat them and smile through the headache the fake syrup and white flour gives me. 

Now that I think about it I would love to go to McDonald's and get myself a sausage biscuit and 2 hash browns like my sister and I used to do every morning on our way to skip school together. 

But I am a mom.  I don't think I am not supposed to like McDonald's breakfast.  It's been so long since I had one I probably don't.  I know I don't want pancakes.  I would rather have a spoonful of peanut butter from a spoon that will later come out of the dishwasher with the same amount of peanut butter scum it went in with.

I had planned to ski on my special day but my car has been overheating when it goes uphill.  BC assures me it is a total mystery but not to worry because it's not a problem unless I want to go, well, UP anywhere.  And besides, he went skiing yesterday so he supposes if wanted to borrow his truck that he needs for work today... yeah I will pass on driving his giant truck up the tiny canyon to get in a few runs before having to come back to take Beach to gym because he can't BECAUSE he skied yesterday and so he needs to work today.

Clearly I should have planned my birthday with a little more consideration for him.  

I do have an alternate plan to spoil myself though. I am going to go to Home Depo and buy a box of self adhesive tiles to retile our bathroom. 

Yep. That's never going to happen. 

The box is only $33.50 and it is in stock.  I checked.  There was a way to make sure one box is enough but that requires measuring so I am going to go with sure one will work why not? It's one bathroom.  

I would also need to buy a razor knife because asking BC for his would cause suspicion.  My plan is to rip up the 4 year old temporary floor installed by my father-in-law and Fisher while taking instruction from Colby via cell phone that year or so he lived in Moab building a house.  In case you didn't know he is contractor.

Okay, so then I have a strategy for how I am going to go around the toilet base and the way I want the lines to fall.  My plan is pretty awesome, even seems simple in my mind.  However, I am blessed with logic and I can see the tragic end result. 

Can I make the floor in there any worse than it is?

Yes, yes I can.  I should also not do the kitchen floor...

So instead I am going to see a movie, except all the movies I wanted to see are so old that they have fallen into that grey space between the big screen and red box and if there was another one I might like I can't remember what the fuck it would be.

Okay I will do lunch.  Can't do lunch BC accepted a tending job for Beach at 11 on my Birthday for one of our old neighbors.  How out of character proactive of him.  She, the mom, is an adorable 23 year old vegan who doesn't wear a bra. Interesting, I wonder why he did that without asking me if that was okay?  It's not okay but okay. Yeah, babysitting! 

So after I sit around cleaning the house all day and drive Beach to gym I will go.... do what? Binge Netflix's? Fold laundry? I know cook myself a birthday dinner! 

And a cake because if I don't have a cake Beach will be sad. I don't really want a cake but whatever.  What are more dishes to wash and more pounds to lose?

Sweet.  What kind of cake do they want me to have?

While I am at it what do I want for dinner? French Fries!!!

Yeah, so I am probably not going to have, buy, or make French Fries. 

Okay, actually, I probably am- but it will be in my car as I am driving.  I will have to hide the greasy bag in the trash when I get home because I didn't share.  And I will drive the freeway with the window downs to blow out the smell but yes, there will be fries on my birthday. 

Fries followed by cardio ballet!... that is if BC isn't home and if I have time between making dinner and driving to and from gym, baking myself a cake, and not retitling the bathroom or the kitchen floors. 

Wait, did I decided yet what I am cooking for my family for dinner for my birthday?  What's easy to clean up?  

You know what? It sounds like I have a lot to do today!  I better stop wasting the morning and go get dressed so I don't ruin my special day for my family. 

I wouldn't have it any other way.... that's what I am suppose to say, I am a mom <3 

winter driving

Have I told you about the family living in their van in our driveway?

No?

I didn't think so.  Maybe that's because they don't live there all the time.  Or maybe because I am embarrassed for of them.  Perhaps I think them being so near to us says something about us.

They lost their house this fall to an inflated rental market.  It sold right from under them.  They lost their chance to get a new place to stay because of a past eviction on their record.  We never thought they would go all winter but they have.

Sure most of the time they aren't huddled in their van right outside our front door.  For starters he works everyday, their son goes to school and stays with friends.  I don't know what she does but they move around a lot.  We go weeks without seeing them. 

When it gets cold and they need somewhere to plug in the small generate that is somehow related to how they stay warm (I don't know the details because it seems rude to ask) they come back to us.

I do have so many questions though. The etiquette for this sort of thing is awkward at best.  Do you wave happily when passing by them to take out the trash, as you would when you see other neighbors? Hello there, I am just living in a house over here making trash and all, you know being normal.  We even have recycling too but I will wait to take that out later, now just seems too soon.

Do you knock to say "Hello" or Good-bye"? Yes, hello van people, this me walking into my house...and out of my house...and back into my house with bags of food that I bought at the store...then out again to go to work....and back to go to sleep...I know it seems super simple but actually it is a little bit harder now that you are parked in our little driveway and I have to step into the garden to get around you, and the day it snowed all day?! that really sucked getting plowed in on the street but don't worry about it because, um, well, it's nothing compared to what you are going through...so...yeah.        

I know they don't want to be invited in to stay.  We do have an open room.  They won't take it.  We have offered the use of our bathrooms.  That too seems untaken. 

On the days their van is parked in our driveway I walk around my imperfect kitchen wiping up crumbs my family is blind to.  It keeps me busy in the way it keeps all women who sweep dirt floors busy.

I am always aware of them being out there even though I have long since given up on asking BC to explain it to me one more time how they can live like that.

I wonder about them with the same amazement that attracts me to abandoned buildings.  There was a point, a very final moment, when the last person closed the door and walked away forever.  What was that moment like? What tipped the scale?  What forces could draw the line between I live here, this is mine, and nothing.  Who leaves a house?        

But they aren't buildings.  They aren't make of bricks and timber.  They are people: abandoned people.  

They live in a van with makeshift curtains and a pallet bed.  They move from place to place looking to be left alone.

We do that, we leave them alone because there are rules about trespassing.

now reading, Alice's Adventures In Wonderland

reading now, School Of Fear

private life

On Thursday morning we slipped the city to ski for a few hours as a family.  We tried to keep it under wraps because it was a gym day for Beach.  I am sure the fact that she has a season pass would not please the head coach.

On Friday, after a morning workout, Beach came home quietly.  It helped that we also had Baby J to run home from her gymnastics class.  Or at least that what's I thought at the time. I hadn't realized how tired Beach was. 
  

I don't recall the afternoon being anything special; calm and simple.  A trip to the bookstore, a fresh backed carrot cake hold the frosting, and the original Charlie And The Chocolate Factory. 

The day faded into night.  We had a dinner of steamy pasta smothered in spicy tomato sauce. It was the calm before the storm.  We spent the night playing Parcheesi.  Beach icing her arm watching the Olympics.

Saturday afternoon we drove out to Sandy to pick up Sophie. A soft blur of the girls trying on high heels and eating Oreos in her mom's apartment before heading back home.  

By 6:30 PM I was back in the car moving through the center of the city to drop the girls for a little ice skating and meeting up with more friends. 

We passed the flashing lights of police cars and ambulances in the city park, trains clicking by, headlights & taillights, traffic lights, and towering glass buildings. They slipped off laughing closing the car door behind them, stopping to wave good-bye one more time.

Before 10 PM it was a reverse course for pickup. 

The wind blew all night long.

Sunday morning 9:30 AM we drove the interstate chasing Baby J and her parents through the rain that changed to snow, to Crystal Hot Springs (an hour north of SLC). 

We spent a few hours with them soaking in the pools of hot water as the snow fell.  The big white flakes stinging our shoulders and sticking to our hair.  Baby J floating and talking, her arms around my neck, calling out for Beach as Beach slipped beneath the water.

We drove home, snow changing back to rain, changing to low grey skies that knew nothing of the winter that was coming.  

That night Beach's friend India appeared for a sleepover.  Beach's room was draped with sheets and blankets.  The sound of laughter slipping out into the house as the snow began to catch the valley.

Monday morning, a holiday, with a breakfast of fried doughy scones and baked apples.  A couple of hours of playing in the snow and back to the Parcheesi board. Before lunch India was gone.

Beach didn't have gym and I was let out of work.  The snow fell for hours.

Sophie turned back up in time for dinner; taco soup and cheesy quesadillas.  They walked out in the snowy night bundled up in layers of jackets for an ice cream cookie shake that they spilt eating it over the heat of the wood burning stove.

Sophie was picked up around 9PM.  The night getting cold and thin.

Tuesday morning BC nursing a cold crawled out of bed early to ski.  He sectioned two halves of a grapefruit, one for me the other for himself.  We drank coffee and I stared out the window at the snowy branches.  I have caught his cold but it doesn't matter- the long weekend is over.

Before he left he cleared my car of the heavy snow encasing it.   

I didn't take any of the photos I normally would have.  I have been thinking about whether or not I want to keep blogging.  I am still thinking about it, wondering how much more I have to say.

ready to go home

I spent yesterday watching the Las Vegas sky change. All alone in the house we rented.  I was home sick but not actually at home.  

The girls were back at the meet venue, BC hiking in Red Rocks, Jeff heading back to SLC for work.

The house is nice.  Nicer than our own.  I love these house for their minimalism. 

My favorite, would have been the Ohio house.  I'm not even sure why.  Perhaps it was the way it held us safe and comfortable while still being in walking distance to all we needed.

I love the inspiration of the rented houses.  The reminder of how little we honestly need.  A space that frames your life a little differently.  A strange view of yourself.  None of them alike and yet they are all the same.

But I'm ready to go now.
Ready to pack up and go home.

I haven't felt this homesick in a long time.

In my head I can already see the girls (who are still in bed) in the back seat of the car as we drive the interstate.  I see sunlight and winter fields go by.  I see bathroom stops and gas station potato wedges.  I see the sun moving across the desert sky.  Distance and miles slipping away.

I can see myself closing the front door of our house behind us as we carry in the last bag from the car.

I want to walk out the door into my own backyard.  Cross the garden and slip the gate.  I want to go home.  I want to see my other children and Baby J.

I want to watch the Las Vegas sky disappear in the rearview mirror.

One day I want to move to White Pine County, Nevada.  Buy land and a small house.  Start over in a new town.  But not today.  Today I want to go back and pick up where we left off.

one-thousand six-hundred four

It's actually more than that.  More miles than a round trip flight to Denver, a drive to and then from Colorado Springs, and a long one way trek back to Vegas.  But you get the point 1,604.0 mi. in a week.

1,604.0 miles, a day of nervously waiting, followed by tight judging on an unforgiving floor, 2 vaults almost not landed, a fall on a double back dismount on bars, teary eyes, tired muscles, a wave of disappointment, and at the end of all of that is beam.

It is easy to keep going when everything is going well.  It's easy to be a good sport and teammate when you are on top. But only part of character is built in those miles leading up to success.  The bulk of it is forged on mile one-thousand six-hundred and FIVE.  Where you fight for what matters to you even as the arena empties and the parents drift away.

Whether or not Beach stuck her series, hit her leaps (the best her healing hip allows), did all the other skills required with grace and power, and landed her dismount- it doesn't matter.  What matters was the way she took it on.  The determination to do what she could with all that was left. 

Maybe in that moment when she paused to smile the judges understood the look, you can put your pens down because from here this routine is just for me. 

Of course they scored her anyway- it's their job. They scored her beam routine 2nd, judged the last couple of beam routines and called it a day.

As the mileage rolled on 1,605.1 the Little Giants of GTC stopped together on the edge of the floor to cheer on the last 2 competitors of the session.  Cheering for girls they didn't know without being prompted without a second thought of where else they could be, or what else they could be doing.

The arena empty their job done they stood with the other team to bring everyone home they way they deserved.

As a team they placed third.  As tiny humans they took first.

Beach had the exact opposite meet that she had in Colorado.  Season highs replaced by season lows.  In Colorado I was proud of her scores. In Las Vegas I was proud of her, of who she has become. 

on the road in Nevada (travel meet)

The Little Giants came home Sunday night from Colorado.  They squeezed in a few practices and a couple days of school.  Then we headed back to Las Vegas for the second time this season. Of course all work and no play isn't going to cut it for this clan. 

Once again we went off trail taking an alternative route between SLC and LV.  It's a good thing they are gymnasts and not part of something like the Amazing Race we would have been the last place team.  As far as we know we were the first to leave and the last to arrive! But it was well worth it!!! 

 Bristol Well, Nevada 

Cathedral Gorge State Park

This time we did NOT stop in Caliente! Creepy!

On to the meet!!!

Good Luck to all the Little Giants

from Utah competing this weekend

in Las Vegas at Brestyan's.

Travel safe.

the skies of Solitude