Sometimes Reality Transcends

"Every dreamer knows that it is entirely possible to be homesick for a place you've never been to, perhaps more homesick than for familiar ground." -Judith Thurman

Do you have a Bucket List of sorts? A real or imaginary list including all of those wonderful things that you want to do before you die? I have one. I think my Bucket List began on the campus of Ricks College as I sat in my art/history class and resolved that one day I would go to Europe.

Do you have things on your Bucket List that you're pretty sure will never happen but you keep telling yourself that they will because you think you might die if you have to accept the devastating thought that they might not? I have lots of those. The chief unrealistic Bucket List item being going to Europe.

Have you ever had your husband walk into your cluttered office one day after work and non-chalantly announce that he is going to Europe on business, and would you like to go with him? I have. And it pretty much made my life.

Have you ever thrown all caution and reason to the wind and just hopped on a plane to Germany, leaving your children to essentially fend for themselves while you're frolicking with your adorable husband in another time zone? I have done it. And it is delightful.

Have you experienced the pure elation of crossing something off of your Bucket List after it has sat ignored on said list for almost 20 years? I have, and it feels pretty darn good. 

Every once in awhile, real life transcends our deepest hopes and dreams. And when that happens...it is a happy day.

Too Tired to Hover

"Trust that you have raised competent, capable offspring and that you have adequately prepared them for the outside world. As a last act of parental kindness, show them that you have faith in their ability to run their own lives. Believe that you have equipped them with the tools to do so. And then let them do it. This is the biggest ego boost you can offer."

As I was frantically preparing dinner last night. That is the only way I prepare dinner during the school year...frantically. Anyway, I was chopping basil and giving Jessica instructions on how to bake the cake she needed for Young Women's in less than an hour. As she separated eggs and I minced garlic, Jessica began to tell me about the opportunity she might have to play in a pit orchestra for Layton High's school musical this year. Layton High usually hires out their pit musicians, but this year, they may have need for string players, and may allow students to fill those slots.

She was all excitement as she discussed the possibility of playing in the pit again. She played in Davis High's pit last year for their production of Phantom of the Opera and considers it one of the great highlights of her musical life. As she chattered about how much she would love such an experience, I chimed in with an occasional, "That would be awesome....What a neat opportunity that would be for you...How fun to be a part of a Layton High production!"

I continued to chop and sauté, and then Jessica stopped and said something very interesting. She mentioned that her friend had heard how much Jessica loved playing in the pit last year and was excited at this prospect of playing in Layton High's pit. She had discussed with her boss whether it would be an option to take work off for the rehearsals and performances in the spring and got the clearance to do so. But she arrived at school yesterday and informed Jessica that her parents would not allow her to participate, that it was just too much. Jessica says that there have been multiple times that this friend has not participated in activities because her parents "Won't let her."

She began to discuss how much this idea baffled her. She said she just couldn't imagine me and her dad forbidding her to participate in some of the things that she has done over the years. It was just beyond her ability to comprehend that there are parents that "involved" she worded it. Then she corrected herself. 

"I mean it's good to be involved, but you guys don't try to control my life. You give me your advice and counsel me about what you think I should do, but you don't make the decision for me. I really appreciate that."

I began to discuss with Jessica that there is a phrase running rampant in the parenting world. "Helicopter Parenting" is becoming a problem in our society. I will not begin to judge the parents of Jessica's friend or to say that they fit under this category. It is apparent that they love their child and are struggling along like all of the rest of us to raise her in the best way they know how, and they are doing a fabulous job. She is a remarkable young woman. 

Neil and I are trying hard not to fit into that category of a helicopter parent. I admit, there are times I believe it would be much easier if I just did all of the decision-making for my children. It would be easier if they would just stick to my plan for them, my daily schedule for them, my hopes and dreams for them.

But would it really be easier? Would it really be easier for me to have my 35 year old call me up from her fetal position in her bedroom because she is finding life with all of its decisions and consequences insurmountable? Do I really want to be writing my kids' resumes, and helping them with their church callings, and making every major decision for them in their 40's? No thanks. I'm trying to work myself out of a job here. In less than one year, Jessica will be in college. She will be making the decisions on what classes to take and which awesome opportunities are worth exploring. And if she isn't making those decisions for herself, then shame on me, I didn't do my job. I am trying to gradually move from the role of parent to advisor and friend, a change I welcome whole-heartedly. I want my grown children to come to me for advice because they respect my wisdom and experience. I can think of nothing worse than having helpless grown children requiring me to make major life decisions for them, because they are crippled with fear by the notion.

Raising resilient kids is hard. This friend of Jessica's has a 3.9 G.P.A. Jessica does not have a 3.9, partly because of a rigorous month last year in which she spent all of her homework time in Davis High's pit. It is hard to watch your kids work through the consequences of their decisions. And not all consequences fit into the category of good or bad. Consequences sometimes just mean that you made a choice and therefore have to work hard in one area while another area suffers. Welcome to adulthood.

 I should be scrubbing bathrooms right now, but I chose to blog. My bathrooms will be grimy for one more day. The thoughts flowing through my head on this very day of my life are now recorded. Those are the consequences. Not necessarily good or bad, just consequences. I chose to sell my house. Now I am crammed into my father-in-law's home wondering what I was thinking, but it's a consequence, and I'm adult enough to accept it and work through it. Some people ask me how I could displace my kids like this during their teenage years. Because my parents did it to me, and I lived, in fact I attribute much of my resiliency to that "traumatic" teenage experience. I have already watched my children face the trepidation of walking into a whole church building of unfamiliar faces with absolute courage. And they are already getting a sense that they can do hard things, and that some things are not as hard as you think.

The problem with not starting out a helicopter parent is that there is no changing your mind. There is no suddenly deciding to hover about your children and make every decision for them. The problem with allowing your children to make decisions for themselves is that they are slow to give back such independence. If I had told Jessica last night that there would be no pit orchestra for her this year, she would look at me like I was crazy, then turn around and begin preparing to play in the pit this year.

I did remind her that I haven't been intervening because the choices she has been making have been all about different healthy and rewarding experiences. I reminded her that if tomorrow she decided that she was going to quit school and up and move to San Francisco to join some symphony, that I would be forced to put on my "mean mom" pants and forbid her from acting upon such a hair-brained idea. She found comfort in that idea. The only reason she has so much steering power in her own life now, is because she has proven mature and responsible in making little decisions along the way. She's proven herself up until this point.

I still don't know if Neil and I are making the right decisions for our kids. But there was something nice about having my 17 year old tell me, before she even leaves the nest, that she appreciates us not clipping her wings before she even had a chance to try flapping them. 

I've never been a hoverer, and it's a little late to start now. Nor do I have the energy.

Hangin' With the Dinos Over Labor Day

"What you do on a dinosaur expedition is you hike and look at the ground. You find bones sticking out of the dirt and, once you see something, you dig." -Nathan Mhyrvold

Not a lot of time to write today. Got some exciting things brewing, but here is a quick look at our weekend adventure in Vernal with the Howells.

Thanks to the plethora of information we received when Jonah did his county report on Uintah county, we ran across this little gem, and insisted on stopping here for lunch.

This is Chip. His great aunt Marion opened up this little shop in Roosevelt in 1933. His dad took it over in 1964, and Chip started running the place in 1992. Surely it is virtually unchanged from when his aunt sat at the counter 80 years ago.

Seating capacity is maybe 20 people. These burgers were fabulous! They tasted like something you would make at home. Chip even sliced a fresh garden tomato to put on our burgers! Chip also runs a string instrument rental business. Someone came in and handed him a cello, and I just had to ask. Nothing like getting your ice cream soda and your new violin at the same location.

I had to try the authentic raspberry ice cream soda. You can't get those just anywhere, because not anywhere has an authentic soda fountain. We felt like we had gone back in time a little bit.

As we drove along the Vernal deserts, there were signs reminding us that we were walking where Stegosaurus' had walked. At some point, that desert must have been a lush green oasis, but we could see nothing but orange rock coupled with a little sage brush. The earth is a fascinating thing. I hope when I get to the other side, that the Lord allows us to watch, on the ultimate big screen, the history of the world.

We sure do miss Grandma's cooking on our family adventures, but we do our best to imitate it.

Sunday morning, we went up to Red Fleet Reservoir to do some fishing. The reservoir was extremely low!

The fishing was crappy, but the kayaking was fabulous!

There's something about a boy fishing with his dad that is so very Norman Rockwellesque.

And there's something great about three generations of fisherman sitting on the same rock on a lazy afternoon.

And there's something about a mom kayaking with her daughters that is pretty great as well.

These two were born three weeks apart. They were buddies when they were little ones, and they continue to be friends today. There's just a little more sarcasm and joking than there was when they were three. Jessica asked Evan to instruct her on the fine art of casting your line out into the water.

If it weren't for the unusually low water level, we may not have been able to kayak into these little caves. It was a wee bit eerie in there, but cool.

This was just one of those pleasant, pristine, afternoons in a beautiful place with some beautiful people.

After fishing, we took the boys for a little drive to Dinosaur National Monument. The girl's had seen it the day before. They just built this building right up against a wall of dinosaur bones.

I was surprised at what a random conglomeration of bones were embedded in this wall of rock. Apparently a river ran through this area millions of years ago. When the dinos starting dying off, and the river would flood, it would collect the dino carcasses, leaving them in big heaps along the river bed. Those heaps of carcasses eventually decomposed and fossilized, leaving us tourists with a virtual Where's Waldo fossil perusing type experience.

We stopped to admire some petroglyphs, but it was 180 degrees in that blaring desert sun, so one ancient indian rock sketch was enough for me.

We also drove by this darling little tabernacle turned LDS temple.

Grandma always celebrated Teresa's birthday while we were on our Labor Day adventure, so Grandpa was sure to bring a cake for the celebration. Happy Birthday Teresa!

Jonah has become quite an expert fire-starter. He likes to combine the log cabin fire with its more popular counterpart, the teepee. It turned out to be a very effective combination.

We finished the warm night with a marshmallow roast around the fire. One of our most favorite family moments. I threw the question out there, "If money and time were no object, where in the world would you like to travel?"

Teresa: England

Kelly and Evan: A world cruise

Tessa: Greece

Kelcey: Africa

Neil: Quaint towns and villages in any European country

Spencer and Myself: Italy

Jessica: Switzerland

Sabrina: Scandinavia

Jonah: New Zealand because that's where Lord of the Rings was filmed.

I think the reality was that we were all pretty content sitting around that fire,  on that warm humid night, under the stars, in little Vernal Utah.