26.2

Spring Fever has hit me full-force. In the past month I installed a new pool pump motor, supervised the replacement of 600 lbs of sand in the pool filter, snaked a drain and used a drain bladder (loved the spraying flood of dirty water), found an awesome green-leather recliner at goodwill (yes, I am a proud consumer) and fixed the upholstering with superglue. I've also landscaped the front yard, pulled out a light fixture in my bathroom, conducted unending research on framing mirrors, started reading many books, finished reading a few books, laid a stone pathway to my front door, pruned trees and bushes, picked weeds and more weeds, helped organize a relief society dinner and a neighborhood party. And, perhaps the biggest one, survived Spring Break.
Spring break activities: Science museum

Chipping toys out of an iceblock

These little people don't understand that it's too cold to swim

Yes that's a lot, but one more…the marathon. The first official participant in the marathon, Pheidippides, died after his run. Although all who can complete the marathon without the same fate should be proud, I cried after I realized my horrible time (4:39) might necessitate a redemption run. Although I plan to never put my body through that torture again, if I fall into insanity, next time my longest training run should be longer than 26 miles so that the actual race is more enjoyable, I shouldn’t let my adrenaline push me too fast at the beginning, I need to become visually familiar with the route before running it, and lastly, don’t ever run a marathon again.
In other news: Renaissance fest: abundant cleavage, turkey legs, elf ears, capes, axes, but mostly cleavage.

I am undecided as to where Iris falls on the crazy chart: either way above E, or in a healthy lead. She is ever the entertained. The boys, especially David like to make her squeal and she is happy to oblige. She sporadically told Roberto (who moved to Chicago tonight) to "get out of my house" or "get out of my car." The second in crazy command (Elijah), runs the fastest half-mile in first grade. His PE teacher made a point of telling me today at field day that he is extremely athletic, full of energy, and FAST. He pulls his own weight:

E also composed an unsolicited movie review of the new Oz movie:

Claire has turned a new leaf and is now the cleaning queen (on some days). A morning last week she dressed Iris (including the diaper: a first), picked out e's clothes (a first) cleaned her room, helped e with his room, made both her and iris' beds, made my bed, and was organizing her dresser when I found her.

David and I have been able to go on a few runs together since Roberto has been with us. We did an 11 miler a few weeks ago and I came to the conclusion that all successful marriages have an accepted set of idiosyncrasies. I'm going to leave that one alone for now--just something to chew on. He will go on another man trip this weekend: rim-to-rim-to-rim in 24 hours, aka insanity.

Elijah=7

Happy birthday (1 week ago) Elijah! It's funny how his bdays make me feel older than my own. We celebrated at IHOP, then a man's hike with David.
Overlooking Scottsdale from Camelback Mtn.

Then a family gathering with the large Udall clan. I made a cake that I was going to frost there, but after Elijah accidentally made a large handprint in it, I decided to let the kids do the dirty work:

Elijah is a considerate and passionate boy. We just finished the first Harry Potter book and he's been listening to James and the Giant Peach in his bedroom. He got a hummingbird feeder, Harry Potter movies and a book from us for his bday presents. The meeting with his teachers this week was the best yet--he's maturing, although he still has his days. He loves playing soccer and collecting "crystals" (white rocks). He actually tried to pay for our breakfast at IHOP with one of his crystals. His favorite thing to do is play with friends which usually includes wrestling and running.
I wish I were as good and forward with people as he is. As always, he has no qualms asking people why they use crutches, where they are going, etc. One of the things I love about him most is that he still not only enjoys mama hugs and kisses, but craves them.

President's Day in LA

I have learned that it is sinful to visit the LA area with children and not visit the happiest place on earth where clothed animals greet you and dreams come true. Forgive me now my trespasses. I was obligated to justify my sin to just about everyone: we wanted to experience LA, not amusement parks.
We started out at the oldest street in LA, Olvera Street.

We brought a good friend, Hannah.

Curved through the Hollywood neighborhoods. I had sustained eye-contact with the dude who plays Leslie Knope's boyfriend--now ain't that something!

Then on to Grauman's Chinese Theater.

Can you spot the white girl at the Santa Monica Pier?

Most of our time in LA was spent in the omnipresent traffic. David had flashbacks of Mexico: chaos was the taskmaster.

The highlight of the trip was spending Sunday night with my aunt/uncle/cousins, but the Getty was pretty awesome too.



After enjoying audio-tours, drawing the classics, and the family room,

 the kids rolled and ran.

Then we drove around Bel Air. Rodeo Drive.

Venice Beach.
Iris is not a fan of the ocean. She kept her distance.

Claire is a composer and a constant performer (as her brother is a constant heckler). The following video is a song she composed and sang non-stop on this trip.

The lyrics are:

"My eyes are blue same as you.

We're tight together like parents too..."

the endings varied.

Muscle Beach.

 

Chinese New Year and Vday

Celebrating the Year of the Snake

 



            



Visits to both classes for Valentine's Day

 Nothing says "romantic" like a moustache.

 

Claire, the biker babe

Claire is riding! She was riding a while ago, but then got spooked and rode the balance bike for a few months. Don't mind my hoarse, diseased voice, nor my yelling at a certain child.

Iris celebrated Claire's feat with a strip dance.

Rolling with January

Last month I was wondering where December had gone and now I’m wondering where January went. This sense of flying time has got to be a product of either my aging, or maybe my children aging? Speaking of aging, I think there was a 33rd bday somewhere in January, but I can’t be too sure. I was too busy swimming in virused bodily fluids (as I am now, for our 3rd go-around of disease) while my husband was on a man’s trip. All while we were living with another man. Roberto moved in with us from Argentina, David traveled to a bevy of Central American countries which I claimed I supported until Iris got sick and I found at least a half-dozen rancid green puddles hidden around the house after returning from a run. That’s when I got MAD. When people heard about David’s escapade, the traditional response was, “When is it your turn?” I’d venture to say “Never” b/c I will be able to hang this over his head for a really long time. And I mean REALLY.

Now I feel compelled to write my annual contemplations on birthday aging, mainly because I feel like this year I’m pleased about it whereas I have been ambivalent in the past. You heard me right, this year I’m happy about getting older. I know myself better than ever and therefore have an enhanced understanding of others. I think this is what people call wisdom (definitely not knowledge—my brain is gelatinous). I’m more comfortable in my skin than I’ve ever been—no matter the size and irrespective of its frequent break-outs (which technically should categorize me as a teenager— they share my mood swings and accompanying whiteheads). With this wisdom comes an awareness that I’m not the center of the universe and what I struggle with is extremely inferior to what most of the world has to deal with, which then leads me to a sense of awe and thanksgiving, paired with empathy. In part, my metamorphic aging process might be a product of lengthening relationships: daughter, wife, parent, friendships with those who are unlike me. Lasting relationships require enduring patience, selfless love, and self-control.
That’s the mental/spiritual aging. Then there’s the physical. A year ago I felt like I was at the climax of my Spanish abilities and in a few weeks I believe I’ll be at the climax of my physical abilities. I will complete the last bucket-list item from my post-missionary goals (since 23-year-olds can’t think much past the age of 33): the marathon.
Anything for which you must take anticipatory drugs should not be classified as leisure nor fun. But ever since I walked the last mile of the Boston marathon with my mom (she was a bandit runner and I was 6), I have had the desire to do the same, even after watching her have to painfully climb stairs backwards for a few days after. Last night my pounding head hung over the toilet for the same reason.
18 miles at 9:03 min/mile.
Next week is my 20 miler and I will have to make sure to write my obituary before March 2, partly b/c I’m not sure whether I will make it and partly b/c after I’ve finished the last item on my bucket list, what’s left? Bucket list #2, I guess, but this time I won’t be able to see myself much past the age of 43—knock, knock knocking on heaven’s door.
I’ll admit, it has been enjoyable pushing myself physically more than I ever have before. Until training, I have never been so focused that I can’t eat—I even have to force myself to drink during the long runs. I usually run in the dark, watching shooting starts, beautiful sunrises, and listening to books. I’m now listening to Atlas Shrugged, which by the way, should be required reading for all fiscal liberals (even though Ayn Rand’s characters are way too flat—I couldn’t finish Fountainhead, it was too painful). Anyway, here I am at the summit of my musculature, unless geriatric bodybuilding is in the stars, which it very well could be (steroids would work wonders for my beard). And I guess I’m ok with this summit too, although I wonder how many more summits I’ll reach before it’s all downhill. But really, downhills are the best part of rollercoasters, so I’m just going to roll with it.

December

When I was a kid, we had at least half a dozen Hacker Whackers. They were foam bats that you were to use if your computer farted on you. Of course my siblings and I mainly used them to hit each other, but boy do I wish we would have had a Hacker Whacker in the house about a month ago. But we didn't and therefore a computer malady has kept me from my dear blog. At the same time, I’m slightly grateful for one less thing to do b/c I feel my head has been spinning especially fast with the season tidings. As you may well know, I’m mellow with the holidays, no presents, no fuss, and usually traveling somewhere else where incredible women arrange, shop for, and then produce beast feasts—all I do is wash some dishes and make sure my kids don’t destroy anything/one. But this year there were some firsts for us: 1) no travel. 2) buying presents for my children (I’m proud to say I still have never bought a roll of wrapping paper; the Wall Street Journal and plastic Walmart bags work just as well. I told my aunt this fact and as soon as she asked why, I sang a beautiful rendition of “Heal the World,” although I’m sure it has to do more with my traditional laziness, apathy, and stinginess). And while the presents were meager compared to many, the great thing about my kids is that they really don’t care…yet. Elijah got a hand-me-down skateboard. Claire got a paint-your-plate kit. Iris got a book. And a few other small gifts from eachother. They were tickled silly. ) baked a medley of cookies and delivered to about 25 homes. 4) we even used the “S” word a few times. Santa was hygienic this year: undies, socks, mouthwash, toothbrushes. Why the heck would anyone go and spend a boatload of dough on their kids and then give all the credit to a mythical figure? It makes no sense. Let the glory be mine. 5) Cooking, of sorts. Since David insisted on inviting others to our house for Christmas Eve (I was Christmas-ed out by that time) he stayed home all day cleaning. He also planned the catering, i.e. paid a woman in the Spanish branch to make pozole and tamales. I spent the day out, arrived, and ate. Yeeeessireeeee, I got me a good man. Here he is flexing at the summit of Flatiron.

6) our first Christmas tree and decorations

A few other happenings:
1. With a few neighbors, we threw a Christmas neighborhood party. It was meant to bring us together as a community, create camaraderie and a sense of trust. OOOh no, not at this party. How many people, besides me and Marilyn Manson, can say the cops crashed their party not once, but twice? I live on a small street, but it’s busy b/c it’s one of the few that connect to the neighborhood, the high school, and the elementary school. We got permission from the city to close the road and folks weren’t too happy: driving on the sidewalks, screaming, speeding away, calling the cops. Love me tender, people!
2. I clocked running over 1000 miles in 11 months of 2012. I could have run to Austin, TX for goodness sakes. Why the heck am I not a bean pole or at least bean polish? Let me tell you why: I am a real woman and I got love handles, stretch marks, and chocolate on my breath to prove it (and maybe a ginger cookie and ham and eggnog, even though I don’t really like it, and one-too-many donuts and birthday cake and hashbrowns and pancakes and blueberry muffins and Reeses cereal…)! roar.
3. I listened to the Hunger Games trilogy in one week. Not something I’m proud of. Do they lace those books with nicotine?
4. Once again, tis the season for disease. That gift was gifted to just under a score of the Udall conglomerate. Put on a few pounds, barfed a few pounds, and then ate them right back on. My Houstonian sisters staggered their visits. Below you will notice many more pictures of the first sister because disease was upon me and mine for a good part of second sister's visit.
Christmas festivities included a visit to the cemetery. Male cousins + cemetery= some sort of a Mortal Combat game.

Hiking

These 2 held hands for the last part of the hike. Claire threw an all-out tantrum (screaming, foaming, kicking) when David told her she couldn't marry her cousin.

Temple lights and more cousin wrestling.

Polar bear swimming. I tried to get a picture of the participants but my children kept flexing in front of the camera. Where would they learn such a thing?

Fun times at the train park where Elijah displayed his many faces:

A day trip to Prescott

Sledding

Iris didn't enjoy her first encounter with snow.

Claire, keeping up the fashion in all places and under all circumstances.

Celebrating the grandparents' birthdays with piñata loot.

New Years

A trip to Goldfield: an old gold-mining town.
Ethan and Elijah decided they needed to be brothers but came to an impasse when neither was willing to leave his mom to live with the other.

Claire running at the sight of animals

And now I sit here and am extremely excited about a whole lot o’ nothing: no plans, no people, no cleaning, no food. Just a couch and a computer and a memory. Christmas, you are great, I loved you and all the people and fun you brought and I’ll be recovered enough to be ready for you again in a year. Toodle-loo