Thank You

November 2013


Dear Friends and Family,

I hope you will forgive this “form letter” but as I sat down tonight with an earnest desire to write each of you a thank you note for the immense service you have given our family over the last 10 days, I felt impressed to share some of the feelings I have had during this experience.

It is a humbling experience to have a family that you are physically unable to take care of for a time. When we received the phone call that our daughter had been born and we had less than 24 hours to get ourselves to Detroit, we were overwhelmed. We felt an absolute certainty that this child was our daughter and we yearned to physically be there but we could not fathom how we were going to make that happen. Within minutes, we had committed ourselves to be on a plane within 5 hours and to prepare our family for us to be gone for a significant but undefined period of time. As I sit and type that tonight, it makes me laugh! We have 4 children…3 of them attend different schools and one of them is still a baby himself. Over the last few days, I have often thought of the analogy of being willing to take a step into the darkness with absolute faith that your way will be lighted when the time comes. What I have learned is that while the Lord provides that light, He does so through others. We provide the light to each other at critical, crucial moments in life. And our family has been the recipient of angels’ work this week.

Thank you to each one of you for the kind, unselfish, tender service you offered. Whether it was offering to care for our children or assuming all the carpool responsibilities for getting to and from school or providing meals or cleaning our house or just sending texts and emails to offer support and love, you have made such a difference in our family. Every single time that our family had a need that we weren’t certain how to meet, someone would step forward and knew exactly what to offer and how to help. Every text you sent offering a ride or a meal was a direct answer to prayer. I am deeply touched by the love you have shown and offered. I am keenly aware that each of you played a very real part in bringing our Ava home! Every act has left a deep impression on my heart and made me earnestly desire to be more Christ-like, more aware, and more eager to help others in my own life. I have been touched by your examples and truly feel that over and over I have literally seen the hand of God taking care of my family when I couldn’t. I really can’t express my gratitude enough. Thank you!

Bringing each of our children home has been a miracle. They have each arrived with their own unique stories and evidence of the Lord’s perfect love for his children. We also recognize the utter dependence we have had to develop on our Savior to guide and direct us. I testify that the Lord dreams bigger dreams for us and has a greater imagination than we could ever fathom for our lives. Thank you for being a very real part of making our family’s dream come true!

Thank you again for everything you have done over the 10 days. We hope you know how much you mean to our family and how much your love has meant!

The Story of Ava

There was a time in my life where one of my most earnest desires was that my life would be filled with lots of adventures...and the more spontaneous, the better! I know that seems like a strange thing to "earnestly" desire but I just wanted to be sure that wherever I ended up, whatever I did, there would be new things and adventures and surprises. And I don't need to know all the details...things have a way of working themselves out in the most delightful ways when we let go of a little bit of control and allow life to surprise us. 

I also crave good stories. Really good stories. And when you place the events of your life into that "Wow, this will be a really good story" category, events have a way of looking different.

Well, I can testify that God hears prayers and recognizes desires...even strange ones...like wanting adventure and needing a good story. My life has been FILLED with both. Dating Chris, getting married, our actual wedding day, and the birth of every one of my 5 children. Every one of them came sliding into this world on their own adventure and with a unique story to tell. This is the story of my 5th child and 2nd daughter...her name is Ava.

Ava has been growing in my heart for many years. I knew after Hannah was born that there were more children meant for our family and I suspected at least one of those children would be a boy. Spencer made himself known...he wasn't going to wait any longer or be forgotten. And although it took a few years, he made it! But almost as soon as Spencer arrived, I knew there was one more baby...and that this one would be girl. On our first night out six weeks after Spencer was born, I leaned across the table at our Thai restaurant and laid that news out in the open. I have a really bad sense of timing. Here we had just signed over our life savings, were dealing with a brand new baby, and struggling to understand what the new normal was going to look like for our family and I choose that one quiet moment to introduce more chaos. I was genuinely worried that my husband's head was going to explode. But I knew it and I knew both of us were going to need time to wrap our hearts and minds around the idea.

That idea stayed firmly rooted in my mind and heart but I knew that like anything in life, this was about timing and I needed to be patient and wait on the Lord. I also had my hands full and needed to take care of my family. I needed time and knew that if we put our trust in the Lord, He would let us know when the timing was right and what we needed to do.

Last June Chris and I attended the temple with my nephew and his soon-to-be bride. I did not go thinking about our daughter or adoption. And yet the moment the session started, I was sitting there with tears streaming down my face. I felt an overwhelming sense that she was very real and that I needed to pray for her. And so I bowed my head and prayed that she would be protected and watched over and that she would be filled with the knowledge that she had a family who loved her and were waiting for her. I can't describe the enormity of that experience. But I knew the time was right to start moving forward. And I will be honest...that overwhelmed me.

It took us some time to get things together and get our papers submitted. We had no hesitation about going through Heart and Soul Adoptions, the agency that had brought us Spencer. We have a very close relationship with the remarkable women who run the agency and a tremendous respect for how they do the work they do. Our biggest concern was financial. We had used every penny in our savings for Spencer's adoption and were still recovering. We truly did not have a clue how this was going to happen but Chris and I both felt that developing faith in this process was an important part of this process. We needed to be reminded that this was not our work but HIS work and if we could trust Him and be willing to do what was asked then the way would be opened up. But if was really hard because we were unable to see how that way was going to be possible.

 

We finally completed our paperwork and turned it in. We knew there would be a waiting period while clearances and background checks had to clear but we were anxious to be ready and prepared. Just a couple of days after all our paperwork had been submitted, a miracle happened...an honest to goodness modern day miracle...and we had the funds to adopt! All I can do is bear you my earnest witness that your life is in the Lord's hands and He loves His children in ways that our limited understanding can't comprehend. We did not have a clue how we were going to raise that kind of money...not even a vague idea. But we moved forward and after we demonstrated our faith, it happened. We were overwhelmed and humbled and felt so blessed! 

And then we waited. Spencer won't be 2 until January so while I felt anxious to bring my little girl home, I also felt a sense of wanting as much time as possible for Spencer to grow and mature a little bit more. We prayed every day and thought about her often, but waited and waited.

A couple of weeks ago, our social worker at the agency contacted us with 2 potential situations. She emailed us the information and Chris and I looked over it but neither situation felt right. That night as we went to bed, both of us discussed how we had been feeling and realized we had both been feeling the exact same thing. This wasn't it! We needed to keep moving forward.

Last Sunday, November 3rd, Chris came into the Relief Society room right at the beginning of the 3rd hour and asked if he could talk to me for a minute in the hall. I could tell he had been crying and I was instantly nervous. We stepped out into the hall and he told me that Rachel from Heart and Soul had just called him and wanted to talk to both of us about a potential situation. We immediately went out to the car and called her back. She explained that early that morning a baby girl had been born in Detroit, Michigan and asked if we might be interested. Rachel gave us some more details and then we asked for a few minutes to talk about it. 

We hung up the phone and looked at each other for 2 seconds before both us started crying. This was it! This was our daughter...she was here! We called Rachel back and told her "yes"! Rachel told us we needed to try and be in Detroit by Monday morning so birth mom could sign and be discharged from the hospital. And thus ensued complete chaos.

We rushed home and with the help of amazing family and friends, we were packed and boarding a plane by 5:00 p.m. that night. It has been surreal to say the least.

We arrived in Detroit at around 1:30 a .m., rented a car, lucked out finding an incredible hotel, and went to bed (kind of) anticipating what was before us. 

And here we are.

We spent all day Monday and part of Tuesday with Ava's birth parents before she was officially discharged from the hospital and we were able to leave with her. Ava's birth parents are wonderful people! We are so grateful for the time we had to get to know them a little bit and to have them know us. This was their first daughter after several boys. They had been told in an ultrasound that this baby was a boy and so they were pretty surprised when she was girl.  Birth mom had also chosen a family in CA to place her with but when Ava showed up on the scene a little early in Michigan instead of Utah, plans had to change. Over and over again we have seen miracles as the hand of Lord intervened and blessed each of us. Placing their daughter for adoption has been heart breaking for both of them but birth mom explained she believed it would be selfish of her to keep the baby and not be able to provide what they both desired for her life to filled with. I can't imagine the courage of heart and soul that it takes to make that type of decision. It isn't about personal selfishness, laziness, or what is most convenient. Placing a child for adoption is truly about love...the deep, divine, unselfish love that can't be defined. It takes so much courage and faith and trust. I have the utmost respect, love, and admiration for the 2 birth mothers and birth father that have trusted in that love and entrusted us with these beautiful children. They will always have a very important place in our family's life. We owe them so much.

And so in 24 hours, our family changed...eternally. How about that? Reminds me that you never, ever know what is right around the corner...life is a miracle. Families are a miracle. Heavenly Father is aware of every single detail of our lives, our hopes, our dreams, our desires. And He makes us equal to the task. We have truly seen miracles. Like anything in life, this has required many steps of faith in to the darkness and every time we have been amazed not only at the light lighting our path but at the people the Lord has sent to provide that light. There are angels all around us, on our every side, both seen and unseen. I am holding one in my arms right now.

Adorable Ava!

Today baby girl was named! We named her Ava Naomi...she shares her middle name with her great-grandmother who very literally made bringing our baby home a reality.  I promise to write the whole story soon. Meanwhile, enjoy our adorable Ava!

Welcome to the World Baby Girl!

Our family is so blessed to announce the birth of our baby girl! She was born November 3, 2013 in Detroit, Michigan weighing in at 6 lbs. 14 oz. and 19 1/2 inches long. Chris and I flew out Sunday and night and had the opportunity to meet her today. She is BEAUTIFUL and sweet and cuddly and wonderful. We can't wait to get her home so we can start the business of living happily ever after!

Introducing...Baby Girl Carr!

P.S. We are still in the process of discovering what her name is going to be. And Emily...please tell Hazel that after much consideration, we have decided NOT to go with "Brownie".

My Bike

The following poem was written by my 7th grade son for an assignment in his English class...it may or may not have made me cry just a tiny bit this morning. It captures beautifully what it is like for a parent to watch their tiny child grow up...and the bicycle is a perfect representation of that process. I know he didn't mean for it to be all that...but maybe that is the beauty of poetry and literature and its flexibility to represent so many different things to so many different people.

Love you Jake!

Bikes

My very first bike

The bike with the tiny seat

The bike I raced with my friends

The bike the training wheels finally came off of

The bike I crashed on multiple occasions

The bike that got too small for me

My second bike

The bike with the tires that never seemed flat

The bike that seemed to like crashing into things that would land me lying on my stomach

The bike that reminded me all too often that stunt bikes and mountain bikes are different

The bike with pegs

The bike I also raced with my friends

The bike that rode down to the snow cone shack many a time

The bike with tires that just wouldn’t inflate

My current bike

The bike that I rode to the library

The other bike that’s been to the snow cone shack

The bike with gears

The bike with a bell.

August Vignettes

Vignettes is a real word, right? It means "little, tiny stories"...or something like that...I think.

I started my entire educational career at the age of 5 at an international British school while my family was living in Sweden. I don't remember learning a lick of "phonics" anything...we just "felt" the words like any whole language curriculum teaches you do. I am therefore a voracious reader who can't pronounce anything correctly. Given the sheer number of books I read, I think my husband is still scratching his head as to why he has to correct my pronunciation of words so much. Thereby giving a long, slightly off topic and not very interesting explanation of my misuse...and possible misspelling...of the word "vignette".

(Snore.)

So Vignette #1. I'd like to title this piece "How to Destory the General Young Women's President's Office in Under a Minute." One of my darling sister-in-laws is in town visiting and so we decided to go take a tour of the Relief Society building in Salt Lake City and see if the General Young Women's President was in. From the moment we followed the custodial woman into the building via the secret underground parking garage and gave her a stroke because we were strangers who were blabbing about "so and so is my mom and I just wanted to visit her and so and so said we could come" and we had just entered a secure building and were we crazy and was she going to lose her job...I knew we were in trouble. I could just see it in the beautiful chocolate brown eyes of my destructive 19-month old. I could almost see his brain chugging away as he surveyed the landscape of potential things to touch/taste/throw. He is obsessed with elevator buttons and is now old enough to reach all of them. He can easily summon his very own elevator but can usually only reach the "alarm" button once he is inside. True story...ask the staff and faculty at Odyssey Charter School. So after the poor custodial woman had a stroke, we stepped onto the elevator with the entire General Relief Society Presidency where my little son took the opportunity to throw a tantrum because the 1st counselor had the NERVE to press the button when he thinks it is his sacred privilege and duty. Try laughing off a tantrum crammed in a tiny elevator with people whose pictures have been in the Ensign. I'm sure I said many an awkward thing...I'm just grateful they didn't call security on us.

Finally we made it upstairs. These beautiful offices were designed with mature adults in mind...so bringing 5 children under the age of 8 onto the premises starts really quickly to feel like a semi-bad idea. One of the amazing women who works in the office had actually invested in some toys since I think my Mo sees a pretty steady stream of little people come through the office. Hannah immediately went to work on the fabulous cupcake sticker book while Spencer took the little toy tool box blocks and created weapons of mass destruction. He was throwing them at pictures, crystal, and people. Then he climbed the beautiful yellow satin chairs to sit on the table and try to pour himself a glass of water. Next was the mixed nut bowl followed closely by another attempt at pouring himself a cup of water. I finally picked up his squirming, squealing little body and took him out in the lobby where in the short time it took me to pick up the mixed nuts being ground into the carpet, he had found a stack of Ensign magazine and was hurling them at the potted plants. I grabbed him under one arm and tried to pick up Ensign magazines with the other when suddenly Spencer looked up and with one chubby finger pointing at the picture on the wall, he said, "Jesus!" It was like he looked up and suddenly discovered this good friend standing in front of him. He said, "Jesus" again and then proceeded to fold his arms, bow his head, and say, "Amen." Amen indeed. Just when this little boy is on the brink of being hauled out to the sidewalk and handed over to the seagulls, he reminds me that inside that rambunctious little body is a magnificent spirit child...a true, noble son of God. And I went from being insane to being humbled once again at the privilege and blessing of being a mother and having them insanely wonderful little people in my life. 

(P.S. Remind me sometime to tell the story of how we went over to see the general primary presidency and he literally hung onto the primary president's leg and drooled on her skirt and begged for candy...it was awesome!)

Vignette #2: "It Sounded Like a Good Idea At the Time"

HB is attending a new school. We clocked it one day in the car and found it was exactly 3.5 miles from our home. The road meanders through beautiful neighborhoods and pass pretty "country" and wouldn't it be SO fun to ride our bikes to school in the fall.

Like any great mishap, it all started out so innocently.

We decided to do what we had dreamed of and ride our bikes to her school. We left 30 minutes early to allow for plenty of time. We had our Hello Kitty helmets, baby strapped into his seat on the back of my bike, and cool water to drink. It was the second day of school so HB had on a snappy, crisp, new outfit with her darling owl backpack on her back. And for the first 10 minutes, it was all that we had dreamed.

Now the funny part about driving your car versus riding your bike is that:

a) You don't notice how the entire route is slightly uphill the whole way.

b) You forget how big your bottom is when sitting on a tiny bike seat with a baby's legs being smushed under you.

c) You don't realize that biking with 25 lbs. of extra squirming weight can really make those "subtle" hills feel like Mount Everest.

We hit the first "big" hill and despite pedaling furiously in 1st gear, I had to stop and walk. I checked my clock. We were 1 mile into the 3.5 mile trip and we only had 15 minutes until school started. My legs already felt like over cooked spaghetti and HB was starting to panic. "Go HB! You have to be strong and ride without me! Go! I'll catch up with you!" My daughter was torn between her red faced, panting, sweaty mother and the fact that she was about to be late for school. We finally made it to the top of the hill and realized that what seemed like a short jaunt through the fields in the car was suddenly a REALLY long stretch of uphill road. I didn't know what to do. We were too far to turn back but far enough away from school that we were going to be late. I felt like I was in a really bad dream where you know you have to be somewhere and you are late but you physically cannot get yourself there. We had to keep riding.

Somewhere along that country road, HB said, "You know Mom, this would be a really beautiful bike ride...IF MY LEGS WEREN'T FALLING OFF!" She pedaled, she huffed and puffed, and finally....FINALLY...we made it to school. Her face was a strange shade of red/pink/purple. Her darling hair was now matted and sweaty where her helmet had been and sticking out in strange places where it hung below the helmet. Her crisp new outfit was crumpled and had a funky smell to it. I'd like to say we raced into her class but the reality was that we limped and hobbled down the hall and to her classroom where I threw open the door and profusely apologized to her teacher for being an "idealist" and not fully appreciating how chubby, old, and out of shape I am. I'm sure I was quite the spectacle and have been "marked" by school security. It was so embarrassing...although maybe not as embarrassing as having to call my best friend and ask if she could come pick Spencer and I up. No WAY was I climbing back on that torture device...and no WAY was Baby going back in that seat with his legs falling asleep and my backside as his primary view. I have now limited myself to bike rides around the block. Period.

Vignette #3: How All the "Big" Kids Have Gone Back to School and I Take Long Naps in the Big, Blue Chair While They Are Gone.

Maybe the title says it all.

School has started and we are adjusting to a new reality with 3 kids at 3 different schools on 3 different schedules with Activity Days, soccer practices, soccer games, scouts, homework, Young Men's, etc. thrown in for good measure. This time of the year is always bittersweet as I send my kids back to school and realize that another year has started. Even though the summer was a little long this year, I still miss them. I still stand on the front porch every time one of them leaves for school and find myself offering that silent but deeply heart felt prayer that the world will be good and kind to my children and that they will be brought home safely to me at the end of the day. And I love the quiet moment in the late morning when Baby and I sit together in the blue armchair watching his planet video on You Tube enjoying an ice cold bottle/glass of milk while we both nod off to sleep. Life is chaotic and busy and full of adventure...and it is so good. 

I'm truly, deeply grateful.

To Camp or Not To Camp...

Dear Fellow Utahns,

My name is Amy. I have lived in Utah as a "permanent resident" for 17 years. And I have a confession to make...I hate camping.

I don't know why it has always seemed so shameful to admit out loud. I have always yearned for that hearty physical and mental constitution that would send me every weekend scrambling for the pines and the mountains with my sleeping bag and tent. I guess I wondered if developing a taste for the camper's life was a little like hitting puberty. You waited and waited and watched it happen to other people and yearned for the day it would happen to you. I would be a Judy Blume book...camping style. I would think about it, talk about it, watch it happen to my friends, and then one day I would wake up and BOOM! I would know how to set up a tent and cook hobo dinners and think sleeping on the ground was a way for me to reconnect with Mother Earth and my inner nature child.

(Don't get me wrong...I LOVE hiking, being in the mountains, campfires where you go home to your bed afterwards, and all that. It is the physical act of "CAMPING" that doesn't agree with me.)

But I suddenly realized...and embraced...the fact that this is never going to happen.

Ever.

Because if I'm ready to be completely honest, this is the real me:

Well, since we are being completely honest...me without the coiffed, curled hair...or pretty, clean, all white, ironed looking nightgown...or lipsticked lips.

But every 5-7 years, I get this little itch deep down in my dirt loathing soul. It's the kind of itch I can't quite reach but it drives me crazy until one day when my sister calls and says something about, "Hey! How would you like to join Todd and I for a birthday celebration in the mountains? We're camping...it will be fun" I find myself replying back, "Wow. That sounds great! Yeah...sign us up. We'll go for 2 days instead of one because it will be SO fun we won't want to come back." And then I'm suddenly sitting in a chair by a campfire breathing toxic fumes while watching my 18 month old whip himself into an absolute frenzy while throwing dirt into the air because he has had unlimited, unsupervised access to the giant  marshmallow bag! But whoa cowgirl...I just jumped ahead in my tall tale of camping in the woods. Let me back up and do this right...

Todd was turning 39 years old and Carrie decided to throw him a birthday party with a real woodland theme...in the mountains...with fire and dirt and giant marshmallows. Most people agreed that coming up for the evening to roast hot dogs and eat s'mores would be lots of fun. But I was feeling that itch and desperate to get rid of it and so I told her to go ahead and book us for 3 days/2 nights of campground fun. We wouldn't just stay the evening...we'd stay for the weekend!!!

We spent ALL day Thursday packing for the camping trip that was only going to last 2 days now because it was taking us so long to pack. Because we are not seasoned campers, we are not efficient camping packers. Matthew was so anxious to leave that I was sure that at any moment he was going to implode in a small flame of impatience. Now to complicate things a little...not only were we going to go camping, but Chris and the 2 older boys were going to leave the next day to travel even further into the wilderness to attend our ward's father/son camp out where they sleep in a field with no bathrooms and according to Matthew, last year a little boy in our ward had to poop so bad that his dad drove him ALL the way home and then ALL the way back...but apparently that is a completely different story that I'm not touching. The point being that this required taking 2 cars, planning coolers and food for 2 different events/locations, etc. Finally...FINALLY...we departed for the hills.

We arrived at our campground and found out we had the "garden of eden" camp spot...no sarcasm. It really was a beautiful, big camp site directly across from the bathrooms that had FLUSH toilets! Everything about this camp out was going our way. We immediately got to work.

The boys set up the tent. Baby was very good at creating a fun "hide-n-seek" game with the tent stakes, Matthew loved playing woodland ninja with the ax, and Jacob chose a sweet outfit for camping.

I was concerned about the effect that conflicting plaids would have on our fellow campers but Chris quickly ensured me it had a type of "Japanese fashion" feel to it that was probably very advanced dressing for a 12-year old American boy. I just offered yet another silent prayer of gratitude that we had 6 more years of school uniforms ahead of us...and then 2 years of dark suits, white shirts, and ties before he had to venture out into the scary world of learning to wearing matching colors AND patterns. And I figure by then the rest of the world will have caught up with my fashion forward thinker and he will be just fine. 

Spencer was very busy taking dirt samples by the mouthful...

...and apparently we forgot to change his diapers for a few hours because every time we looked over we saw this. 

HB immediately went to work creating fairy houses for all the woodland fairies. There were rooms for the babies, children, and even the teenagers. It was a work of art.

Camping seems like an ENDLESS stream of loading, unloading, then loading and unloading again...within a very short amount of time. But finally we had unloaded and were ready for a party. And we were not disappointed.

Carrie and Todd's adorable "vintage '71" trailer...

The woods with party decorations. Loved it.

If you study his face carefully, you will see we had an amazing dinner of hot dogs and bratwursts with all the fixins' as well as yummy salads and a whole cooler full of yummy beverages.

Topped off with a s'more bar for dessert. It was perfectly heavenly!

Why do the woods have to have so much dirt??? The 2 little cousin boys could NOT help themselves from picking up handfuls of dirt and just throwing it...right in the middle of the party people. Papa went through at least 2 plates of food because he kept getting rain clouds of dirt landing on his food. Luckily Baby's natural skin tones help to hide some of the dirt damage...

Best part of the evening...listening to Papa tell his stories. This man can tell a story like no other. He truly is the master storyteller. He started telling one child a story and by the end, he had all the other children sitting at his knee begging for "one more"! It was a priceless moment!

Another favorite moment...we sang Happy Birthday to Todd at one point in the evening and Baby, who had been playing in the tent, heard the first few notes of the song and poked his head out saying, "Cake?! Cake?!" That boy knows his stuff!

Well...it was time to see what we were REALLY made off. After the wild ruckus was over, we headed back to our campsite to get ready for bed. Baby had fallen asleep from sheer dirt throwing/marshmallow eating exhaustion and we thought we had dodged a HUGE bedtime bullet by just being able to lay him down. We had brought the port-a-crib and we didn't even bother peeling his dirt infused clothes off him. Just laid him down gently and got ready for bed. He slept for about 2 hours and then woke up screaming his head off. Chris tried to calm him down and ended up taking him to the car because he was being so loud. A few minutes later he brought him back and put him on the air mattress between the 2 of us where Baby proceeded to jump up and down, roll around, giggle, play, talk, and watch You Tube videos on Chris's phone for the next 3.5 hours!!! Finally he fell asleep but he woke up every 20-30 minutes kicking or screaming until 6:00 a.m. when he fell asleep for 2 hours. I didn't know whether to laugh, cry, scream, or just go hunt for those yummy chocolate/coconut candy things that I knew were in the car somewhere. On top of it all, our air mattress had a slow leak in it so by 6:00 a.m. when Baby finally fell asleep, we were sleeping on top of the plastic that used to be inflated that was now helping to dull some of the rougher rock edges we were lying on. I'm telling you...where is the fun in all this?

The next morning, I finally got out of bed to go and fix the older kids their "mountain man scramble". Our family firmly believes that when camping you must eat a pork product at every meal. End of discussion.

We spent the day relaxing and hiking at Cascade Springs. I love Cascade Springs...it is BEAUTIFUL! And I'm not kidding when I tell you that just about every time I have gone, I have seen a moose...either at the springs or on the road leading down. Today was no exception...I had just finished telling Chris all about my amazing Moose Whisperer abilities when lo and behold I literally looked up and there was my moose for the day!!! Female moose, looked to be about "teenagerish" age. I am a moose magnet. It is an awesome talent.

Cascade Springs is beautiful! The water cascading over all the rocks, down the gently sloping hills is mesmerizing and hypnotic! I love it!

After our awesome outing, we headed back to camp for lunch and naps. Because of our awesome sleepless night the night before and the fact Chris and the boys were going to the father/son outing, I opted NOT to stay by myself with an 8 year old and 18 month old in the woods with the signs all over camping announcing how this was black bear country. I can personally testify that my little chocolate baby is plumb and delicious and I know how much self-control I have around him...I wasn't about to take a chance with a hungry bear. So we packed up...and I left for home. HB and I immediately showered and headed out to Cafe Rio for dinner and to get stuff for ice cream sundaes. Civilization never looked so clean!

So why do it? When you hate camping so much that you are willing to devote an entire blog post to it, why do it? I'll tell you why...

Because nothing in the world touches my nature deprived soul like the sound of the wind rustling the aspen trees.

Because nothing is more fun than watching my city slicker kids run around a campsite marveling at the large trees and big rocks and discovering "secret" trails and pinecones.

Because despite the dirt...it makes my boys happy. Dirt is happiness for these little men...and for a few moments I can suspend my horror at how dirty their bodies and clothes are and appreciate that because this is the stuff we are made of, it feels natural and right to roll around in it and throw it in the air with carefree abandon and joy.

Because it teaches kids to work hard. If you want to sleep, you better figure out how to put a tent. If you want to eat, figure out how to fix your food. If you want a fire, learn to chop wood and build one. If you don't want bears eating you, learn to clean up properly.

Because food tastes better cooked over a campfire and s'mores can only be eaten if the marshmallows have been roasted.

Because everyone looks happy, relaxed, and beautiful by the light of a big, roaring fire.

Because my children don't have a lick of technology and choose instead to play with each other and their cousins and pull up chairs to listen to their grandfather tell stories and talk to their parents!

Because the best stories I've ever told or heard have been around a campfire.

Because the stars are so bright at night that you feel like you can reach out and pick them right out of the sky.

Because it is so quiet that you aren't distracted by all the noise we have in our every day life.

Because we need nature in all its beauty, splendor, and glory. "All things bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small, All things wise and wonderful, The Lord God made them all!"

And so I will continue to pull out my camping gear every few years and grit my teeth and head to the hills for some camping because sometimes the itch just needs to be scratched.

It was a glorious weekend when all was said and done. It really was.