October 2007

My birthday was filled with surprises and even more surprises. Sean (and several other contributors) bought me a shiny, red full-suspension Diamond Back mountain bike. I’m not sure if he was more excited about the great deal he got, or giving it to me for my birthday as he jubilantly pointed out the upgrades and squishy gel seat he handpicked for my oh-so-delicate tush. He urged me to test ride it before “the big ride” he had planned for the following morning up South Fork Provo Canyon. I took off before he could change his mind and rode a mile or so on the canal trail not far from our house. I met up with a boy who I thought was treading water without the water, but quickly realized he was rollerblading. I passed him widely in the weeds as to not get beaned by his flailing arms. I smiled and giggled like a young girl as a bug splattered between my two front teeth. I could hear the wind spray past my ears even as I slowed down to cross the street. I quickly realized it wasn’t the wind, but the air seeping out of both tires that were speckled with goat heads (thorns). I knew one of Sean’s favorite jobs was changing flat tires, so when I explained what happened I was surprised by his lack of enthusiasm and the sounds of clanking tools and swear words seeping through the garage door.

Manipulating Drew’s and Clay’s sports schedules can test even the most savvy juggler—of which I’m not. Throw in a fever and a seal-like barking cough, and one kid that “can’t hold it any longer” with no bathroom in sight, and you have the recipe for pure glee—and sports spectating at it’s finest. Add tears of just missing that touchdown pass and the screams of joy for unknowingly shooting and swishing it in the wrong basket and it’s family fun unmatched.

Parent teacher conferences almost parallel the anticipation of fall sports. Teachers rave about Drew and Clay being good students. Then their voices turn low and raspy as they lean in talking through clenched teeth, “and if they could just shut up, they would be even more amazing” as if they have just shared the coveted secret of success. I nod and smile, the light glints off my eye.

Judd likes to whack people in the head when they least expect it. Then he makes it up with a sweetness only a double scoop of earnestly chocolate ice cream with a cherry on top can match. As I busily talk on the phone one morning, he leans over and whispers in my ear. “Mom, tell ya secret?”
“Yeah, babe,” I whisper back, covering the phone.
“I wuv you sooo much.”
I drop the phone forgetting what I was talking about anyway, and we hug and dance around the room. I wonder how I got so lucky.

I’m also reminded how lucky we are when Drew tells me he feels like he was sent to our family for a reason, and that even though he doesn’t know why, he is grateful because he loves us so much. In the same lucky day, Clay asks me if we’re going to have another baby someday. I tell him “no”, but thanks anyway. “Good mom, because I like our family just the way it is.”

Somehow during these tender times, our whiplash-like schedule seems to stop for a fleeting moment, and I’m engulfed by their love for life and the frank simplicity of their words.