traditions

Four days ago, I sat on a beach in Trinidad, California watching my family.  There was just us, five Lowrys, alone on the sand. An overwhelming feeling of joy came over me as I watched Q and Sol walk hand in hand along the waters edge.  I smiled as I observed Corbin and Eliza dancing and playing in the surf.  I knew then, that I was exactly where I was suppose to be.  I was with the only people that really matter, doing what we love most.

We have been coming to Trinidad once a year during the summer since before Corbin was born.  It has become a tradition that helps define who we are.  Our children may not be able to remember what events occurred in which year, but they will be able to remember the sounds, and sights, and smells that only the Northern California Coast can bring.  They will have a feeling of nostalgia as they think back on our family tradition.  It was this train of thought that led to a flash-forward moment, of seeing my children grown, with children of their own on this very same beach, instilling in them the tradition we began so long ago.  I realized that this tradition will ring strong when they are grown, as it does for me now.

hand in hand

Corbin took Eliza's hand and led her to play on the playground, so she wouldn't be afraid.  I held Sol on my lap while swinging on a swing, listening to his laughter. And as Q snapped pictures, I thought, "This is it. This is as good as it gets. This is why we are here."  It was a moment when I saw without obstruction the joy that having a family brings.  The kind of moment that should happen more often, but I am frequently too busy or preoccupied to notice.  How many times have other moments like this passed me by without realizing it?  I have rarely appreciated my family more than I did in that moment.

My life is good.  I am very, very blessed.  

a natural instinct

Eliza has given no interest in babies and dolls.  She would pass right by them not giving them a second look.  Choosing animals as her place to focus her love and affection.  I have noticed a change in her recently.  She has been asking to have a baby doll.  {This after I gave her three dolls away because she insisted that she was never going to play with them and didn't want to keep them.}  She suddenly wants to take care of them and clothe them and play with them and feed them and love them.  Then today she said she wants to grow up quickly and "stay a grown up forever".  This again was odd behavior for her. Normally her mantra is, "I don't ever want to get old. I want to stay a kid forever." - just like Peter Pan.  So I inquired why she would want to grow up so quickly.  "So I can have a baby and name it and change it's clothes and love it. And I won't ever get mad at it."

Someday my baby girl will have a baby of her own.  One day she will be a wonderful mother.  The instincts she has within her, that are starting to manifest themselves now, will someday dominate her actions.  When indeed she does have a baby of her own, those instincts will be the one thing that helps her know what to do when she first lays eyes on her own precious child.  No matter what I teach her or who influences her over her life, her natural instinct to know how to be a mother will be what matters the most.

a day to remember

Saturday was one of those days I hope I never forget.  I took Eliza and Corbin snow skiing.  It was Corbin's second time and Eliza's first time.  Corbin was zooming down the mountain (lapping us...he did twice as many runs as E and I did).  Eliza was a trooper, never crying, even when she stayed on the chair lift too long and had to jump off.

One of the things I enjoy most in life is watching my children learn something new.  I love seeing the joy on their face when they realize this new, yet difficult, task is worth the effort it takes.  That great things can come with work and endurance.  Both Liz and Corbin were learning that even though we sometimes fall and get hurt, that it is always worth the effort to rise and try again.  That the reward is greater than the sacrifice.  Who knew that learning to ski could teach so much?

seeing myself

A few days ago, I took Eliza to see the show "cascade christmas" at the Cascade theater.  I was transported back in time to when my mom used to take me to see the Shasta High musical every year.  I absolutely loved it.  It's where my love for music and theater began.  I knew that someday I too would be on stage.

Liz was so precious.  She watched every second, and loved it.  She can't wait to be able to do things like that someday.  Just like me, she is shy and so while being on stage is intriguing it is also terrifying.  But it's when we get over our fears so we can do something we love, that we can begin to enjoy life more fully.

a day of rest

The Sabbath is suppose to be a day of rest.  Mine usually is not.  Sometimes they are more work than any other day of the week. 

I'm not sure why, but it seems the kids are grumpier on Sundays.  In turn, I am grumpier.  I don't want to be.  I don't want to lose my patience on the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th time to take a child out of sacrament meeting.  I don't want to lose my cool, when my 5  year old blatently disobeys.  I don't want to feel frustrated when another child tells me he thinks he's going to throw up while we're sitting in the church pew. I don't want to angrily take away the new birthday toys of a strong willed child, throwing a fit.

But I did all those things today.

It's not that I had to walk in and out of the chapel 5 times, or discipline a disobedient child, or nurse a sick baby that leaves me feeling defeated at the end of the day.  It's the disappointment in myself that I did not combat these things with compassion and love.  Instead I let annoyance and anger take over.  And for that I am ashamed.

At the end of the day I want my children to feel loved.  So I took some time to cool off.  I went to lay down with Lu who had been banished to her bed for the night.  Told her I loved her, kissed her goodnight, and vowed to have a better day tomorrow.

no voice

My voice left me today.  I have wisper voice, or strange scratchy, squeaking voice.  Neither of which do me much good.  Eliza says, "Mom, you need to talk like a real mom."  Good Idea.  I guess it's better than the other day when I was not feeling well, she said, "Why are you acting like a sleepy mom?"  I guess I haven't been the best mom lately.  I need to work on that.

The good thing about my voice being gone is that I can't answer every little question the little ones have.  It's not that I don't want to answer their questions, but sometimes, I answer so readily that they don't figure things out for themselves.  It makes them think a little more. 

I do miss talking to Sol.  He makes me smile when he jabbers. A sure way to get him going is to ask him questions.  But without questions being asked his voice is gone too.  And that makes me sad. 

Tomorrow will be a new day, and hopefully it will bring with it my voice.

Lizzy LuLu

Have I told you about Eliza? My Lizzy LuLu?


Four year old Eliza is beautiful. She only likes "pretty" things. I am occasionally asked why I wear pants, because they are not pretty. Pink, piNK PInk, PiNk, don't forget PINK! Girls are the only creatures that deserve her time. (Unless it's Grandpa. She loves Grandpa, and Sol, and Corbin and Dad. Although she tries to hide her affections from Quinn, but inside she's loving him. She talks about him a lot when he's gone. "Mom, where's dad?" Even though she really does know where he is.) Liz loves animals. Most of her toys that she loves are stuffed animals. She plays with them, talks to them, sleeps with them.

Lizzy is an artist. I am amazed at how well she can express herself through art. She can sit down at the table and color for hours. Quinn talks about how he can't wait to see how her talents develops as she gets older.

She is very shy. Painfully shy around adults. It takes her a very long time to warm up to adults, even those she sees frequently. She is very perceptive. She notices things that I don't realize she is aware of, until she talks about it.

"Mom, what's that smell like?" This is a common phrase, repeated many times each day. Liz has the most sensitive smelling mechanism I have ever encountered. "When will my nose stop smelling?" I feel bad when I have to tell her; Never. I fear for her when someday she is pregnant.

Eliza is my "special girl" and I am her "special girl too" and instead of hugs, she gives "love" because "love is longer".

great day

Today was a great day.


We sat with Liz and Corbin and showed them our wedding album. We talked about how they weren't there because they were still in Heaven. Yes, Brooklyn and Kenzie (cousins - whose mom was in our pictures) were there with you too. It was great to show them everyone 12 years ago. Yes, mom and dad were a little thinner then. No it's not icky that mom and dad are kissing.

Next scriptures, family prayer and bedtime routine. After the big kids woke up their sleeping brother with their loud stomps, talking and slamming of bathroom drawers we had a physical exercise of how to be quiet. "Corbin, show me how to close the drawer quitely." "Lizzy, show me how to walk quietly down the hall"...etc, etc. They thought it was funny.

Later Q and I were laying close in bed. Q asks if I will still love him when he is completely broken. Of course, I say. Will you still love me when I wear grandma shoes at age 35 because my bunions hurt so bad and have a hunchback from my lazy shoulder. He replies, "I get turned on just thinking about it." Ha Ha. But seriously, I will, and he will and that is true love.

But I guess we were lying a little too close because I started pointing out his long eyebrow hairs and he said, 'will you still love me with bushy eyebrows and ear hair?" I love bushy eyebrows and earhair. "Oh yes," he says, "because you see ear hair and think 'that is hot' ". Much laughter follows. And then one more, "I'm sorry I'm not who you thought you married." What do you mean? "I don't look the same as the wedding pictures." And then we laugh some more. Because neither of us look like we did in our wedding pictures. But in reality I don't notice the ear hair, I love the gray hair and all I see is the man I fell in love with. And I love him more now than I did that day in those pictures.