Wednesday, October 22, 2008

The Pros and Non-Pros of Triathlons

PRO: Two of my sisters called about a month ago to invite me to do the Lake Powell triathlon with them. I light-heartedly said that sure I would if it happened to be on the exact weekend that Corey had vacation to watch the kids. I thought the chances were slimmer than slim. It was the exact weekend. Maybe it was meant to be. It could happen!
UN-PRO: But this would also mean that I would abandon Corey on his birthday. Maybe I should reconsider. I take birthdays pretty seriously.
PRO: I think this would be really really good for me. Sometimes the groundhog days of motherhood can be unbearable, especially as winter starts to poke her icy fingers in my eyes every morning. My list of "creative ways to break the monotony" gets hopelessly buried somewhere under my layers of warm blankets. I really should go.
UN-PRO: Oh, snap. I am a great dog paddler, but not great at actually getting somewhere while swimming. I am going to have to work. Plus I was informed that people kick and claw you in the water. Maybe I can find a way out of this.
PRO: Again the whining about being a stay-at-home mom......I know that I am so fortunate and would not have it any other way, is such an intangible and unquantifiable position. Sometimes when Corey comes home from work and cheerfully inquires, "what did you do today?" , I want to hide in my scary messy closet and sob because I really don't have anything to show for my day. I feed the kids and they just get hungry again. I wash the clothes, and somehow I have to wash the same thing the next week. Motherhood is a job in which I believe there is a natural tendency to feel like a failure. A tangible goal with a finish would be such a refreshing change. I would come home a better mother.
UN-PRO: I will also come home a bit downtrodden when I am reminded that Corey's housekeeping skills are far superior to mine.
PRO: It will be a lesson in humility

My sister Carrie (right) was the 1st woman and 4th human to finish. No wonder she kicked my butt in our swim practice the day before.

PRO: I worked out a lot before the race and felt confident that I would at least finish
UN-PRO: I read way too many articles written by PROfessional triathletes. These articles trained me to be a an extremely effective worrier about the race. I wanted to put balloons on my bike just to prove that I wasn't taking it as seriously as any of those self-involved Energy Gel Dopers. Maybe I will write an article on be UN-PROfessional when doing a Triathlon.
PRO: It was so much more fun than I had previously expected. I soon realized that many of the people were there to have fun. The swim was tough and the sun was blinding the course they set out. I only got kicked a few times, kicked a few people, and found myself laughing at how silly we all looked. The biking was my favorite and I could have gone faster if I would have kept my eyes on the road instead of stealing glances at the incredible scenery. The run....well, my body hates running, but my spirit loves it. They cooperated without any vomiting. It felt great and I didn't come in last....4th in my age group.

PRO: I got to spend quality time with some of my nieces and nephews. They give me so much more attention when my kids aren't around hogging it all. I love being called "Yessa." Maybe I am called this because it is close to my name or it is possibly because I can say "Yessa" to whatever they want without suffering any of the consequences of spoiling them.

UN-PRO I missed my kids and know that the nieces and nephews would have been happier playing with them. The 11th commandment should be "Thou shalt not listen to the Veggie Tales Soundtrack while driving in God's Country".

My sister Julia wanted to get her money's worth and did the Olympic course which was twice as far as mine. I think she is twice as crazy as me (just kidding, Julia. I'll be with you next year.....if the stars align again. Who am I kidding? You are too busy being fit to even read this blog)

PRO: Now that the race was over, we were ready to have some fun. When previously visiting Lake Powell, I could never unmerge myself out of the water to do much sightseeing elsewhere. I was short-sighted and missed Antelope of the slot canyons of the southwest. The above photo is what it looks like from above. The entrance is a narrow curved slit in the cliffs only a few feet wide. Once inside, you are in an entirely new world. The ambient sunlight filters down the curved sandstone walls and makes mystical, constantly changing patterns and shadows. Narrow sketchy staircases take you deeper into the labyrinth. I mentioned in an earlier post how much I love red rock. Being completely engulfed in red rock sent giddy chills down my spine.
UN-PRO: If I know that I am going to be having a lot of fun, I leave my camera at home. A nice camera limits your physical activity. I wanted to have a lot of active fun on this trip and so I brought our old ancient digital camera that I felt compelled many times to sacrifice to the desert slot canyon gods. It belongs among the dinosaur fossils. I don't know if I wanted to cry because I was so happy being there or if I was just sad that I didn't have my "real" camera. However, the many people waiting with tripods and light meters trying to compose the perfect shot, grumbling when we walked in front of their two minute exposure, made me happy to just be experiencing the moment.

This picture isn't so bad, is it?

My sister Camille with nephews Ethan and Jacob. This was better than Disneyland.

We play with the shadows

The next morning I walked down to the lake to watch the dawn and sunrise.
Again, I missed my CANON REBEL. I am not a morning person. I loved watching the sunrise. I think if I was able to watch the sun rise like this every day, I could easily learn to love the morning.

PRO: A stop in Zion National Park is worth a year of therapy sessions.
UN-PRO: I need at least two years of therapy.

PRO: Having the opportunity to bike through Zion
UN-PRO: spending less than a day in Zion is a little like taking a bite of your favorite chocolate cheesecake and spitting it out before you can swallow it.

PRO: My early morning flight looked like this. Yes, I did stretch out on all three seats and sleep.

UN-PRO: I missed the beverage and peanut cart.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Happy Birthday Doady

Corey was born on Tuesday, October 17, 1972 at 7:42pm. He weighed 8lb 13oz and was 23.5 inches long.

I don't know too much about Corey's temperament as a baby, but I do know that he was constantly hungry. My speculation is that, judging from his height and IQ, his cells were producing and synapsing at an accelerated rate and needed the extra fuel.



Corey's family, who I hope will not kill me for posting this picture, was a huge influence in Corey's life. This is personally one of the photos that just makes me happy.
1st grade

2nd grade
5th grade

One of the highlights of Corey's childhood came when he was chosen to be a torch runner for the 1984 summer Olympics. We have a box fun of newspaper clippings, stuffed animals, his clothing, and the actual torch; but the gem of all this memorabilia is the whole event captured on VHS. A small museum of sorts may be lurking in our future. I believe that the attention showered upon him during this time may have cracked a bit of his shy shell. He still doesn't like the limelight, but can at least function normally in society.

1984 Olympics

7th grade
8th grade
I found a plethora of these goodies while I was snooping. Corey loved to draw little people falling to their deaths.
The Pac-Man Digestive System Maze. I couldn't pass this one up.

It is uncertain how old Corey was when he completed this paintings. I am impressed, regardless of his age.

I'm guessing 10th grade (Not your best year, Corey. If it's any consolation, my 10th grade photo is big bangs, permed hair bad.)

Corey has had a variety of jobs, ranging from newspaper route, gas station attendant, janitor, self-employed window washer, art gallery assistant, and elderly care-giver. The only inkling I've been given that he has ever slacked on the job is when he was too chicken to collect newspaper $$ from one house because a girl from his class resided therein. Other than that, he has always been a stellar employee.

12th grade

Corey earned his eagle scout award and our family has repeatedly reaped the benefits of his many survival skills (except for the time we couldn't start a fire on our secluded Santa Cruz island trip....but that was completely my fault, right Corey?) I am still waiting for him to make me a lanyard key chain, however.

A hard-earned 4 year full scholarship to BYU

Corey served as a missionary for 2 yrs in the Washington D.C. mission.

5 years undergraduate double major (Art and Chemistry) from BYU. He had several Art shows his last year and was a speaker at his graduation.

Saint Louis University.....4 years of medical school. These years included the birth of 2 daughters, a weekend job, one mugging, one robbery, and multiple smashed windows. It was a long 4 years.

SACRED HEART MEDICAL CENTER.....Transitional and Residency.....5 years

One year as Chief Resident and One year as a Musculoskeletal Radiology Resident in Portland Oregon.

So, I could go on and on and tell you how Corey has landed a great job, recently built his own bike, can blah blah blah. His achievements can be a bit intimidating and sometimes annoying to us underachievers. He has done some great things, and am sure will do many great things in the years to come(like build me a kayak). All I really care about is that he is a great husband and father......ok, and the kayak.


****Disclaimer.....dates may be incorrect and vital information missing. Feel free to correct me.

Thursday, October 9, 2008


Emmy had the cutest little speech impediment until she was 6. She couldn't pronounce her "th's" and "r's" and used n's in place of her l's. This caused a little confusion in her church class when she told her teacher that she was thankful for her "Knife" when, of course, she meant her Life. Her teacher quickly consulted us to ensure that Emmy didn't have an arsenal at her personal disposal. She began speech therapy in kindergarten and too quickly, was talking like an adult. Now I find that she is the first one to correct me if I mispronounce something or heaven forbid, round up a number. If something is $3.99, it is $3.99. Don't you dare round up to $4.00. If it is 3:59 pm, it is 3:59 pm. Don't even consider that it is 4:00 pm. I understand that she has grasped on to perceptual concepts and must follow them rigidly at this point in her life. It is a normal stage of intellectual growth and moral reasoning. But in my more immature moments, I must grit my teeth in order to endure being corrected by an 8 year old. These kids grow up so mind-spinningly (I know that Spinningly is not a word and I don't care) fast.
Ansel, on the other hand, is still wrestling with his own lexical representation. I always want to have a 4 yr old in my immediate vicinity. Attempting to compartmentalize the world is a magical experience. I want to document his paradigm at this point in his life, so in a few quick moments, when he is 8 years old and rolling his eyes at my naivety, I can look back and remember that he didn't always have it all together.


Lets go back to We're house.....Lets go back to our house



I want to take a haircut...He LOVES haircuts

A Rock Or Bomba (Barack Obama)......a non-partisan mistake

I am having a Dairy Good Day. (A very good day)


I can do it by my own......I can do it by myself

Do you have a secret for me?....(this means he wants me to tell him I love him)
We saw man with a patch on his eye one day in the store. Ansel yelled LOUDLY, “Look, there is a real pirate!”
We were listening to the radio and we heard "Eye of the Tiger." I said, “This is an old song”. Ansel asked, “Is it going to die?”

Ansel walked in the house with a bit of a bloody nose. I asked him, "Where did you get your bloody nose Ansel?" He replied, "Duh, Mom. On my nose".

The reality is that, even as adults, most of us are far from attaining a realistic and objective view of the world. Our communication with others is bursting with misunderstanding and
subjective interpretation full of error and erratic response. The only difference is that when we are adults, it is no longer very cute.