On Hiking

"Everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you're climbing it." 

-Andy Rooney

It may be a little known fact to most, but let me just come out with  it now, that I hate to hike. I like the idea of hiking. I like to act like I like a good hike. But when it comes right down to the inner workings of my heart of hearts, I really loathe hiking. 

Don't get me wrong. I love being out in nature. I love a nature stroll particularly in the cool forests of the Pacific Northwest. But hiking, in my mind, generally points to some sort of elevation gain, and as soon as you're talking an elevation gain of say more than ten feet, I'm out! When enduring that ordeal we call a "moderate hike", I quickly am reminded that I have the lung capacity of a chain smoker, the heart rate of one who just saw a ghost, and leg muscles resembling that of a bowl of jello or over-cooked spaghetti noodles.

But herein lies the problem...the amazing man to whom I am married adores hiking with all of his big heart. He spent every summer of his youth leading hikes at scout camp in beautiful Yellowstone. The man has climbed the Tetons. You can see him get all giddy as he puts on his microfiber hiking pants and his wool socks and one of eight pair of pricey trail shoes or hiking boots. His face lights up as he fills his camel pack and perches his Indiana Jones/BSA hat on his head. But because this man to whom I am married thinks only of my happiness a good 98% of the time, he rarely suggests that we throw on our hiking shoes and start trekking up a mountain. For this reason, my children tend to harbor my attitude. That is, except for little Jonah who is a Mini-Neil in both body and spirit.

So every summer, I attempt to be a good wife and recommend that we go on a family hike. I do this because I love my husband and love to watch his face light up, and because I feel that hiking is literally the best exercise you could do, and because I get tired of watching my children slowly atrophy due to extensive idleness. 

But there are conditions. I will only hike in Utah under two conditions. It must be under 90 degrees, preferably significantly under 90 degrees, which means we generally have to hike before 5:00 a.m. or just about the time the sun is setting. (This proves problematic with teenagers) The other condition is that there must be some worthwhile reward at the end of the ordeal in the form of a breathtaking piece of nature. Hiking for the sake of hiking offers me little reward. An occasional pine tree or stream along the way is also insufficient. If I'm going to enjoy a tree, I'd prefer to be lounging underneath it. If I'm going to revel in a stream, I'd rather soak my feet in it whilst reading a good book. Don't make me just trudge along such things in 100 degree heat. 

The other reward at the end of a hike generally involves a treat of some sort, and I'm not speaking of trail mix or green smoothies. I generally prefer the milkshake variety, because you know I don't like to be parted from my calories for too long, and hiking seems to burn them at an appalling rate.

So a couple of weeks ago I suggested that we hike up to waterfall canyon in Ogden. Everyone who is anyone in Davis or Weber county has hiked waterfall canyon, except of course for yours truly, and her four offspring. I had done my research. Google described this hike as everything from easy to strenuous. Something told me that the latter would hold true. I think the 1400 foot elevation gain in less than a mile tipped me off. I needed practice so that the hike up to Delicate Arch a week later would feel like a cake walk. We started up the mountain at our regular one hour before sunset.

It took about ten minutes for me to start muttering that this was the stupidest idea ever, and why didn't anyone talk me out of it, and that I didn't care about some stupid waterfall, I just wanted my milkshake. My thighs were burning, the mosquitoes had begun feasting, I needed an oxygen tank, and possibly a stretcher. My face that turns several shades of red after a walk to the mailbox was now purple, and the amount of sweat gushing from my pores was obscene. But Neil was right by my side reminding me to take it slow, Sabrina and Spencer seemed to be enjoying themselves, and Jonah was running up the mountain like a hyper puppy.

We did make it up the mountain in the end, albeit in double the time that google suggested it would take. I did it. I did it to see these kiddos sucking in every ounce of fresh moist cool air their lungs would allow. And to watch them scouring the rocks and standing under the waterfall arms outstretched.

I did it because the reward at the end was worth it. The falls were beautiful!

 I was panting like a dog, sweating like a pig, and spent the first five minutes looking for a rock to lie down and die on. But such discomforts seemed to evaporate and mix with the mists coming off the cliff and cooling my tired face.

I did it for this view. One perk to making that 1400 foot elevation gain.

And for this beautiful view of a beautiful daughter who came along for the milkshake but in the end enjoyed so much more.

And most of all I did it for this remarkable man whom I adore with the same intensity that I hate climbing a mountain. And for this little boy who is destined to become just like the man he shadows every day of his life. Neil asked me on the way down the mountain, "You did this for me didn't you?!" I gave a sheepish out-of-breath grin. I would hike a hundred more mountains for these two, but just not tomorrow, and not until after I've had my milkshake.

We hiked off the mountain. The sun was setting. The air was cooler. This time it was my knees that were throbbing, but my heart was happy, as it usually is after such a "sacrifice".

Because We Are A String Family

"I learn something not because I have to, but because I really want to..." - Yo-Yo Ma

Because we are a string family, this little guy always seemed disgruntled at being "forced" to take piano lessons. He has watched his brother and sisters perform in orchestras and symphonies and  Suzuki recitals while he has begrudgingly plunked away at those darn ivories. 

Because we are a string family, Neil and I decided to fight Mr. Jonah no longer on this issue, and for the first time in ten years, our little Clavinova sits quietly in the corner with no one to practice on his keys. 

Because we are a string family, we hopped in the car and drove to Circe Dopp's Violin Shop and tried out a 1/2 size cello only to decide that Jonah would outgrow it before he had stepped out of the violin shop. Circe had 3/4 size instruments that we decided would be the right fit. We brought Jessica along to play on each cello, allowing us to make a more educated decision on which instrument had the best tone.

After careful consideration, this lovely little cello became the newest member of our string family. He has a little crack, but his tone is lovely and Jonah is all smiles! He finally feels a part of this string family.

Jessica gave him his first cello lesson. She introduced him to the parts of the cello. He was familiar with the bridge and the endpin and the scroll, because after all, we are a string family.

This lesson was all about having proper bow hold, which is the most awkward experience for every beginning string player. But Jonah paid close attention and followed Jessica's instructions with exactness. He pulled the bow gently across the string, stopping to fix his bow hold before moving onto the next string.

There was no fighting, no arguing with his sister, just careful concentration. He will learn as much as he can from her before she heads off to college to begin her education on how to teach other string players. Jessica helped him name the newest member of our string family. This cello will be known as Emmet. The name may or may not have come from a certain Lego movie. He'll sit in his case alongside Tony, and Jack, and good ol' Danny Boy. Jonah gets him out several times a day and practices pulling his bow across each string, one time pianissimo, the next time forte, each time carefully and with the proper bow hold. Jonah seems to be learning because he wants to, and it is difficult to get this kid to do much unless he really wants to.

I think this switch will be a good one. I look forward to watching Jonah and his new friend Emmet go on this musical journey together. They have a wonderful road ahead of them, and they won't be traveling it alone. After all, we are a string family.

Graduation - During & After

"Graduation day is tough for adults. They go to the ceremony as parents. They come home as contemporaries. After eighteen years of child-raising, they are unemployed." -Erma Bombeck

Jessica's graduation was one of those surreal experiences. I try to not look too far into the future. It makes me anxious. It rocks my world too much. My child's graduation day always seemed like one of those nebulous distant possibilities. To have it upon me left me in a bit of a fog. But it was a happy fog. An "I can't believe this is really happening!" fog. 

Jessica was one of the last students into the stadium. Pomp and Circumstance filled the room. Jessica reminded us that this is really a nice piece of music if only they would play the entire piece.

This young man was one of the speakers. He reminded me almost eerily of the pictures I've seen of my father as a young man. I pointed this out to Mom, and she gasped at the likeness. I wish Dad could have been here to see his first granddaughter graduate. 

He gave the typical speech. You know, all kinds of talk about the world being our oyster, and we can do anything if we work hard enough, and the future is bright. Such words are appropriate. Let these young people have their moment. They've earned it. They have yet to learn that their greatest struggles lay before them. That most of them will end up ordinary people with ordinary jobs and ordinary lives. That many of them will find themselves sitting in this very stadium in a couple of decades, a few pounds heavier with a few more wrinkles gracing their tired faces, waiting for their graduate to walk the stage, and that they might say to themselves, "Why didn't anyone tell me that this is the greatest work I would ever do? That this is where I would be proudest and most pleased with my life?" Such truths must unfold gradually.

We sat in the audience with grandparents and with the Howell family and watched two cousins receive their diplomas. Evan was first thanks to a last name placed conveniently at the first half of the alphabet.

We end-of-the-alphabet dwellers waited patiently our turn. We listened to over-enthusiastic family members cheer and ring cowbells for their graduate, muffling out the name of the next graduate, even though they were constantly being reminded to please be respectful and hold applauses until the end of the ceremony. We rule-followers just shook our heads and commented on the obvious reasons our society seems to be overflowing with deviants. We just hoped the place wouldn't be completely distracted by the time they got to the W's. Whether they were or not, I didn't notice because all seemed silent as I caught my last glimpse of Jessica as a high school student.

My heart fluttered a little bit as her image showed up on the big screen. I'm sure I was the only parent in the stadium to think that I had the most beautiful graduate in the room. Neil got a little teary-eyed.

Her name was announced, we all cheered inside if not out loud, she took her diploma cover, shook a few hands...

 

And that was it. Thirteen years of work, over and done with. She made it successfully through the school system. "We did it," Neil said, "One in a row!"

The ceremonial tassel switching took place.

A few caps were flung.

You can see the absolute jubilation as Jessica waved at her siblings as she waited to be one of the last people out of the stadium.

This is my very favorite picture!

By the time the ceremony was over, the clouds had dispersed, allowing for those lovely sun-saturated post-graduation photos that I love so much. But you have to capture the after-graduation energy. There's nothing quite like it.

How fun for Grandpa to watch both of his grandchildren graduate together. How we wish Grandma had been here to see this.

These kids sure do look up to their big sister! She has blazed a nice strong path for them to follow.

Cousins!

I'll admit that I'm a little jealous that Kelly and Teresa had just watched their baby graduate, while I still have seven long years in the school system yet to endure. They've paid their dues, as we all must.

As grandpa Watson is just about finished watching high school graduations, this set of grandparents is just getting started. Two down, at least thirty-three to go. 

We finished the afternoon with a celebratory lunch at Union Station Grill. 

Followed by one last celebratory ice cream. Our family has single-handedly kept Farr's ice cream in business this year. There was no shortage of photo bombs this carefree Thursday afternoon. 

One more shot minus the photo-bombers.

This is what it's all about. These are the pay-off moments. This is why we parents get up every morning and do what we do day in and day out, for just such an afternoon. There sit two very happy if not slightly fatigued parents, one step closer to unemployment, and quite frankly glad it's still a ways off.

Graduation - Before

"Just about a month from now I'm set adrift, with a diploma for a sail and lots of nerves for oars." 

-Richard Halliburton

I'm going to break this post up because this mama tends to take an obscene number of photos then gets sentimentally attached to every one of them and has a hard time not including 2500 pictures with every post.

Yes, my firstborn graduated from high school just under two weeks ago. As I ironed her gown, I was pretty sure it was the very gown I wore as a Layton High graduate just last year, or wait, has it really been 21 years? How did this happen? 

Jessica wanted some photos with her friends. I generally hate graduation day photos. They are usually sun saturated with every face washed out and every set of eyes two black shadows. I have trained Jessica well, and she is much more lighting conscientious than the average teenage girl. She convinced her friends to meet before the ceremony so that the lighting would be better and so that they wouldn't have to locate each other among the masses after the ceremony. Once again, the heavens seemed to be smiling upon Jessica, as there was cloud cover graduation morning allowing for the perfect lighting for photographing this cute bunch of graduates.

I always say that my two favorite age groups to photograph are newborns and high school seniors. It should be fairly evident why as you peruse these cute cute pictures.

I began shooting, and slowly more and more friends started showing up, each one being greeted enthusiastically by their peers.

Some of these kids have been friends since elementary school, many since junior high, and this group of twenty or so kids have been inseparable since sophomore year, exchanging texts and dance dates over the last three years. They have gloried in the triumphs and sorrowed in the tragedies of high school life together.

I have watched them transform from awkward sophomores to beautiful young adults.

I would be lying if I said that they've lost their goofiness over the years. Perhaps they have simply fine-tuned their humor to a certain level of wittiness that will serve them well as they enter the adult world. They will need that humor.

These are good kids. It is apparent by the cords and ribbons and medals and pins hanging around their necks. These are kids that would get up early on late-start days to go to the temple before school, kids I never worried about Jessica hanging out with on a weekend. Many of these boys already have mission calls. I strongly believe that each generation is more noble than the one that preceded it, and this group of kids is evidence of such a notion.

Jessica had to get a picture with Sabrina, as they are twinners when it comes to accomplishments. Same cords and medals and pins.

Orchestra buddies and best friends since junior high. They will miss each other as they move on to different colleges.

Neil was dubbed the care-taker of the purses during the photo shoot. He has always been the quiet supporter, standing in the background, helping in simple ways, but always present. This photo is all the better as he seems to have antennae sticking out of his head. Yes, I'm that kind of photographer.

We had to sneak one picture together with our beautiful graduate. These are the mommy and daddy payoff moments. Eighteen years of work come to fruition on days like this.

This is what all the blood, sweat, and tears was for. The hours and hours of studying for AP exams, the getting up at the crack of dawn to finish an essay, the drama over getting asked to Prom or not, the teenage highs and lows, and the hoop-jumping for certain unreasonable teachers. It was all endured and endured well for this culminating moment where this little band of friends earned the privilege to do the Toyota Jump or, to coin a more appropriate term for this generation, to have this High School Musical Moment. Because they were all in this together, and from this point on one person after another will begin to step away from the group as they pursue their own paths.

It was one of those wonderful mornings, not just because of the lighting but because of the light in this beautiful young woman's eyes. This beautiful young woman that we were given the privilege to have some tiny hand in her upbringing. She was God's daughter before she was ours, and He helped us raise her, and because He is a perfect parent, she turned out better than we ever could have hoped for.