My own private Idaho

Idaho isn’t exactly on most people’s bucket list for beauty.

Sure, there are pretty areas. Sandpoint and Coeur d’Alene in Northern Idaho stun. I went to Rick College (now BYU Idaho) and though Rexburg was nothing to write home about (read: not scenic), it is surrounded by beautiful forests and sand dunes. Sun Valley’s Sawtooths are world famous and my gosh, if I’m not dying to get back to resort town McCall after a quick drive-through several years ago.

But I’ve had an abiding opinion that southern Idaho is downright ugly and when you’re driving I-84, it really is. Until you venture off the freeway.

Boise

Following a loooong drive from British Columbia (complete with flying, suicidal cows), we spent the night in Boise with my former mission companion, Katie, and her darling girls. Katie and I have history–we strolled the streets of a charming Suisse village together and that bonds you for life.
She hasn’t changed a bit, unless you count her new sassy “I’m 40 and don’t care what people of think of me/love it or leave it” attitude. I loved it.

The kids had a blast at Ice Cream Allie (the coolest ice cream/candy shop ever) and playing in the Boise River,

and then Bode thought he’d died and gone to heaven when she took us to an ’80s arcade, Grinkers Grand Palace.

I was pretty stoked, too until I played one of my old favorites Q*bert and realized my gaming days are far, far behind me.

Twin Falls

Facebook can be a beautiful thing and one of the swell things about it is reconnecting with old friends. Jenny and I were roommates at Ricks my sophomore year and her freshman year. She was fiercely independent, a clean freak and there was no way she was marrying young like so many of those silly Ricks College girls.

Which is why I was delighted when she met her awesome husband Travis and was married within the year.

Now she has 9 wild and crazy kids so those days of OCD cleanliness are over. But one thing she is now is FUN and we had a blast exploring Twin Falls.

I was blown away by the beauty of Snake River Canyon, which resembled a tropical rain forest more than the barren wasteland you see on the freeway.

My kids have only kayaked once by themselves. Each had separate freakouts, worked through them and eventually beat us all back to the docks.

And then we hiked…lo, did we hike. I used to think we were outdoorsy but then her family reduced us to mere city folk as we scrambled over boulders, needed a machete to cut the trail and skirted around poison oak.

But who would have thought such gorgeousness was found here?! And yep, that’s blood streaming down Hadley’s leg but her little tumble didn’t slow her down one bit.

That night after dinner and swimming in the Snake River, I unleashed our Canadian candy on them.

I think the treats were a hit judging from the way her 10-year-old twin boys stuffed them in their pockets.

Early the next morning, Jenny and I sneaked out at dawn for another kayaking adventure. The Snake River was a ribbon of turquoise that cut through deep tropical green cliffs as waterfalls gushed around every bend–a dizzying array of diversity.

Beckoning waterfalls in the distance

Southern Idaho, I misjudged you. Let’s definitely be friends because I certainly have two wonderful ones who made me fall in love with you.

I left my heart (and a psycho dude) in San Francisco

When I heard BlogHer was in San Jose, my first thought was I’d slip away one evening and pop over to San Francisco, which is one of my favorite cities in the world. When I was 16 years old, my mom and her business partner Lin owned a gift/shop tea room. They thought it would be fun to bring Lin’s daughter and me along on one of their buying conventions. While they worked, Janelle and I played in San Francisco before we all explored the Napa Valley and Carmel. I fell in love love love with Northern California!

But here’s the deal: I was delusional thinking I could “pop over to San Francisco” and getting there is half the battle from San Jose. Fortunately, I had an entire day before the conference to explore.

I had a few options: 1) Take a cab, which would have cost a minor fortune for the 50-mile commute. 2) Rent a vehicle. Another pricy option and driving in a foreign-to-me city by myself is never a good thing. Plus, have you seen those hills?  3) Take the Caltrain. Though it had a lot of stops and took an hour and a half, it was by far the least expensive of my options.

The Caltrain station was about a mile from our hotel, which I figured was no problem. It was a lovely day and a chance to explore San Jose.

As it turns out there really wasn’t much in San Jose’s conference district. There were a couple of cool shopping/restaurant areas but the parks and bike trails I’d hoped to explore later were dirty, rundown and inner city. The day after I flew back to Utah, someone was murdered outside of the Tech Museum of Innovation and the Fairmont Hotel, right near my hotel.

Note to self: do not wander San Jose after dark.

I found the Caltrain fairly easily but it took me a while to figure out what train and stop I should take (heaven forbid they should actually have people working at the kiosks). I eventually figured it out and settled in for the 1.5-hour ride. I had forgotten how entertaining it is to people-watch in California. A loud woman sat across from me and proceeded to do her morning make-up routine. That was just swell until she whipped out her deodorant and other personal hygiene items.

It only got better. When I disembarked at the Caltrain’s final stop, I still had a 4-mile walk to Pier 39. No problem again! I would stroll along the Embarcadero, the eastern waterfront and roadway of the Port of San Francisco.

I was minding my own business basking in the views of the San Francisco Bay when a crazy black dude started following me. I tried to brush him off but he was persistent. He was about my size (read: short) and walking his bike with a broken chain. Though he babbled incoherently (I wasn’t sure if he was drunk or mentally ill), I figured I was in a public place and he seemed harmless enough so I let him walk with me, brushing off his advances.

Crazaaay dude behind the sculpture

He’d been trailing me for a good two miles when something triggered within him. He stopped and I kept walking. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw him walk over to the water’s edge, pick up his bike and fling it into the water.

You’d better believe I got outta there like a bat out of hell. No way I’d be his next chucking-into-the-bay victim.

I finally arrived at Pier 39 after about an hour. My knee was starting to feel sore after walking 5 miles but my gosh if that place wasn’t hopping. I know it’s blatantly touristy but I love exploring Fisherman’s Wharf!

Lunch on the Wharf

Token selfie

Sunbathing sea lions

I had planned to hop on a cable car to Union Square and then take a cab back to catch the Caltrain but there were lines everywhere and I knew I’d be waiting at least an hour. My knee was throbbing so I knew walking another 5 miles would render me incapacitated for the conference. I’d just talked to Jamie who told me to watch our $$ because he was waiting on some clients to pay so I didn’t want to spring for a cab.

Then, I had a stroke of genius: the Bay Area Bike Share! There are rental stations all over the city for a nominal charge so I hopped on one of these baby blues and cruised back to the Caltrain station. Why hadn’t I thought of this in the first place?

P.S. Don’t tell my mom I was biking San Francisco’s gnarly streets without a helmet.

Once back in San Jose, I grabbed another bike (my rental fee was good for 24 hours) and rode it back near my hotel. It was an exhausting, exhilarating day and though it made me miss traveling solo, I resolved I couldn’t wait to take my family back to San Francisco and experience it all.

Minus mentally-unstable-stalker types.

The mouseketeer of the Dark Ages

Today at Mile High Mamas, I’m doing a throwback to the Dark Ages. Long before there was technology, enlightenment and potty trained kids.

Consider yourself warned about these dark, dark times.

A potty training descent into hell and the realization I am not above bribing a mouse

Paying with Passion at BlogHer

Prior to embarking on our 3,000-mile road-trip, Skype contacted me and asked if I’d be at BlogHer ’14 in San Jose, CA. I haven’t been to BlogHer in years and told them so. They came back saying, “I don’t think you understand. We want you to go to BlogHer on behalf of Skype and become our Family Ambassador.”

However, there was another complication: BlogHer was near the end of our huge trip and the kids and I were supposed to spend that week with Jamie’s family in Utah. After some agonizing–and a very generous mother-in-law who agreed to watch the kids for four days–I flew out to California. Prior to doing so, I had a blast interviewing a bunch of BlogHer panelists via Skype, one of whom was Elise Bauer, founder one of my favorite food blogs Simply Recipes.

Skype was a sponsor of BlogHer and was THE place to hang out with a cool Airstream Lounge where attendees stopped by to make “Passion Pledges” in exchange for some pretty cool swag. It was a campaign that resonate with me and that’s why I volunteered to sign on. We all have a passion for something, whether it’s travel, spending more time with family, or just trying something completely new. Skype’s campaign was to not only encourage people to pledge their passion and motivate them to follow through, but also to prompt them to share their pledges online to inspire friends and family.

The contest isn’t limited to just BlogHer attendees. Just make a pledge about how you are going to live your life with more passion, share it on Twitter or Instagram using the #PayWithPassion hashtag through Aug. 31, 2014 and you’re entered to win some awesome prizes including a Surface Pro 3 tablet.

Awesome, right?

And BlogHer was great. Though it was still overwhelming, I had a really great time attending the sessions, going to the parties and hanging out at Skype’s airstream talking Passions with the other attendees.

The Aussies always know how to party

Over these coming months, I’ll be doing some fun campaigns with Skype as a part of their Moment Makers ambassador program. Sure, Skype is awesome for keeping in touch with families and friends but I love that they’re taking this to the next level. They’re looking for people who love to share their passions over Skype—from trading fashion tips with friends to previewing that dance recital with cousins to bedtime stories with grandma.

There are three ways to get involved: apply to become a Star Moment Maker (someone who works with Skype to showcase their talents to the world), upload a moment you’ve made with Skype, or sign up for their newsletter.

Stay tuned for my family’s passion moments over these next months.

And yes, at least one of them will assuredly involve pumpkins.

 

 

When cows fly

When you embark upon a 3,000-mile road-trip, you expect the unexpected. Except for when the unexpected turns really unexpected.

Following our week-long family reunion in Vernon, B.C., the kids and I dropped Jamie off at the Kelowna airport to fly back to Denver while we continued on our vacation. We had an 11-hour drive to Boise, Idaho where we stayed with my former LDS mission companion, Katie. This was to be the longest drive yet. Many parts of Washington are gorgeous; central Washington and Northern Oregon are not.  A stretch on Highway 17 after Dry Falls State Park was particularly tedious and I couldn’t wait to race through…until we ran into a huge traffic jam. Cars were making U-turns and a few people informed us there was some kind of rock slide that resulted in the closure of the small highway.

My phone’s GPS didn’t work (remember, we were in the middle of nowhere?) so I pulled off the side of the road to ask the State Trooper when they planned to reopen.

“No idea,” he replied.

“No idea? I thought there was a rock slide and I see crews out there working.”

“It’s not just a rock slide. There is a huge wildfire on top of those cliffs. Cows are getting backed up on the edge and are either jumping or falling off. The falling rocks you see are when they hit the side of the mountain.”

I stared at him in disbelief. Could this really be happening–jumping cows? As I stood there for a few moments, I saw it: a cow doing several backflips in the air.

I felt physically ill. Like everyone, I’ve seen my share of dead animals and road kill but have never actually seen anything die. It gave me a small glimpse at how horrifying 9/11 must have been to see people jumping from the buildings.

I walked back to the car, unsure how to deliver the news to Hadley and Bode. I gave it to them straight.  They were as incredulous as me but morbidly fascinated and started peppering me with a gazillion questions.

We ended up doing a huge detour on a back road, got lost for a time and eventually made our way back on another freeway, adding an extra 1.5 hours to an already long day.

A friend later sent me a legitimate road sign of exactly what we had witnessed.

Who knew suicidal cows was a thing?

For lunch, we opted for Subway instead of hamburgers.

It was our way of honoring the poor, ground beef.

 

 

Bode’s LDS Baptism Day

I have many wonderful friends from all religions asking me about Bode’s baptism day so allow me to share with you what a special day this was.

Turning eight is a big milestone in the Mormon church. It marks the year kids can be baptized, a sacred ordinance that is similar to Catechism for Catholics but LDS children also receive the Holy Ghost, a separate ordinance that follows the baptism. They understand that this covenant or promise they make with God involves keeping his commandments, remembering Jesus, and serving Him the rest of their life.

It’s a pretty big deal but in case you haven’t noticed from my blog, clean living free from addiction, devoted service, eternal families and discipleship are also full of joy. Authentic and pure in a world that touts the opposite as desirable.

Bode is the best kind of boy. Kind-hearted. Good to his core. Selfless. And so darn attuned to others’ needs that he is constantly humbling me. When Hadley and my in-laws were recently driving from Salt Lake City to Denver for his baptism, the weather took a turn for the worse. “We need to pray they arrive safely,” Bode announced. I agreed but I was driving. A few minutes later I pulled into the parking lot to McDonald’s (he had earned a Happy Meal reward) and he reminded me to pray. So we did and a feeling of calm washed over both of us.

Getting both sets of grandparents to his baptism was nothing short of a miracle. The day before driving out, Jamie’s dad needed eye surgery. My mother’s health is as bad as ever but she was determined to make the trip–until we received a call the morning they were supposed to fly from Calgary and she had been hospitalized. I was devastated there was no way they would be able to come. Bode was to be the final grandchild (youngest of six) that she would see baptized.

Then, that afternoon, my dad called. The hospital had medicated her and she was able to travel–unbelievable! They rushed home to pack, I checked their flight plans and through another divine intervention, found out their flight had been canceled (it wasn’t listed on the airline’s website). I quickly called them right before they left, got the airline on the phone and we were able to fly them out the next day, which gave my mom another day to recover.

Miracles, I tell you.

Having both sets of grandparents and Jamie’s brother and sister there made for a perfect day.

Grandparents

Jamie’s family

Mother and son

Bode’s Grandpa Johnson gave a wonderful and entertaining talk on baptism and then Jamie baptized Bode by immersion.

This picture of my two boys is my absolute favorite from that day. Normally Bode does his fakey-canned smile but he was glowing.

Following his baptism, I gave a talk on the Holy Ghost and how to recognize its influence for the rest of his life (it was largely based on this wonderful article I found).

The gift of the Holy Ghost is given when a person is confirmed a member of the Church after baptism by someone having priesthood authority from God. It is given by the person having authority laying their hands upon the head of the person who was baptized and giving them a blessing to receive the Holy Ghost (Acts 8:14-18). Whether or not we then receive this great gift depends on our keeping the commandments of God.

Jamie, Bishop Larson and both grandpas laid their hands upon Bode’s head as Jamie declared Bode a member of the church and to receive the Holy Ghost. What followed was a beautiful blessing of the life he was to lead and of the joy he has already brought so many people. I held it together and didn’t cry during the entire program, until Bode later divulged to me that when he felt Jamie pronounce the Holy Ghost and subsequent blessing on him that “it felt like tiny little sparks in my mind.” Talk about immediately being able to recognize the Spirit in his life.

We had many wonderful families come to support Bode on his big day and we invited them back to our house for an ice cream social that my wonderful mother-in-law helped me setup.

Ice cream sundaes for dinner with 25+ different toppings including homemade caramel, fudge, gummy worms, Captain Crunch and more?

Bode was in his element. I stopped him for a moment as he was racing around to ask if he was having fun. “Yes, AND I NEED MORE SUGAR.”

Chalk his baptism day up as being one of his best days ever.

Why you should totally NOT feel sorry for Hadley

Do you remember my previous post about Hadley’s rocky reentry into the real world after a month-long vacation and most recently getting spoiled by Grandma J.?

One of her complaints was about her eensy-weensy twin bed. I blow off first-world whining like that. I didn’t get my first queen-sized bed until I was in my late-20s and wasn’t going to run out and buy her a bigger bed. I figured when she was a teenager, it would be great to upgrade to a Queen so we could boot her out of it when we have guests.

Case in point: my parents stayed with us last week and I certainly couldn’t have them stay on the twin bed in my office that doesn’t even have a bed frame. So, Jamie and I gladly gave up our bedroom and slept on the couch in the basement.

But then two days later, my friend Ratna posted on Facebook that she was giving away a queen-sized bed. I hesitated. What kind of message would that give to Hadley if she whined and I delivered? The last thing I want is an entitled, spoiled tween.

Then I remembered how I really don’t want to sleep on the couch again so I jumped on it. We’ll buy a headboard and new bedding later.

Fat Kitty & Hadley, sitting on a bed

She, of course, was thrilled.  But part of “earning” the bed was helping me move her old one to my office/spare bedroom and finish decorating it while also cleaning out the disaster zone under her bed.

In the end, everyone is happy. Hadley has a bigger bed, Jamie and I have something to sleep on the next time the grandparents come, my den has an actual bed for my friend Vikki who’s coming to visit this week and it didn’t cost us a dime.

“It’s not really my fault,” she defended, referring to the mess under her bed.

“Oh really? I’d like to hear why not?”

“It’s like there’s a magnet and everything just ends up under there.”

Just think how many more treasures that “magnet” will attract under a queen-sized bed.

Why you should totally feel sorry for Hadley

Hadley’s reentry into “the real world” has been a bit rocky. Not that I’m surprised. The girl loved every moment of our 3,000-mile road-trip. Reconnecting with cousins. Stampeding in Calgary. Her free reign at the lake to roam and do whatever the heck she pleased. An extra week and a half with Jamie’s parents in Utah where yes, she worked hard helping Aunt Tammy move and watching the twins but there were shopping trips with Grandma, fancy wedding receptions and outings to the museum.

She arrived home last Thursday to much fanfare. How we missed her!

And how she apparently needed a Grandma Detox because she complained about what we had for dinner (chicken quesadillas, though we redeemed ourselves with red velvet cake), having to do chores and that night as she was going to sleep, she announced she needed a bigger bed. Grandma’s spare bedroom had a Queen.

Sorry, dear. You’re a princess-in-training and you’re stuck with a Twin.

She starts school on Monday, which will be an even more startling transition.We’re simply not ready. We’ve had a busy, fun holiday and the summer doldrums never hit.

But apparently it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. As she was reflecting upon the last few months, she observed.

“Mom, this summer has actually been really hard.”

“Really! HOW?”

“All the packing and unpacking.”

How to honor pioneers in the easiest way possible-Part I

Pioneers are a huge part of Mormon history and Pioneer Day is an official Utah holiday that is celebrated annually on July 24 in commemoration of when Brigham Young and a company of Mormon pioneers entered the Great Salt Lake Valley in 1847. New LDS converts had made the harrowing 1,300-mile-long journey from Nauvoo, Illinois and since they couldn’t afford wagons, they pulled human-powered handcarts. Many lost their lives but the stories of sacrifice and survival are downright inspiring.

Every four years, the youth in our stake (and hundreds others) go on a mini-Trek for four days on a portion of the actual pioneer trail in Wyoming. Jamie was in the first youth group from our stake to do the Trek and has a lot of fond memories.

And not-so fond ones of the turkeys they killed, plucked and cooked in a pit.

Fortunately, our Treks aren’t quite so extreme but I guarantee most kids have never done anything so physically demanding as pulling handcarts for hours on end over four days, sleeping on the ground, cooking their own meals and enduring extreme heat, rain and wind. My friend Tiffanie went on the Trek and took these fabulous pictures of our youth. It was one of the hardest things they’ve ever done but also one of their greatest spiritual experiences.

The testimony meeting following the Trek is always the best part as the youth spoke of how they banded together and were deeply inspired by their pioneer ancestors.

Hadley will go on the Trek when she is 14. Bode will just miss the cut-off (he’ll be 12 and needs to be a minimum of 14) so he will go when he is 16.

During our 3,000-mile road-trip to Canada, we had to do a massive detour after a road closure in the armpit of Washington (read: ugly). Wildfires were blazing, the temperatures were sweltering and I was grateful for our air-conditioning. I shared stories of our pioneer heritage with my kids and mentioned how at that exact same time, the youth from our ward were on the Trek traveling several miles a day on foot.

Then, there was silence.

After a while, I asked the kids, “So, what do you think? Doesn’t Trek sound like fun?”

Bode was the first to respond. “It’s nice and all to not forget about the pioneers. But can’t we just honor them by doing a play about them or something?”

Okanagan Lake: A season to soar

‘Twas an awesome week-long family reunion at Okanagan Lake in British Columbia where we:

Learned to wakeboard

Walked on water

Birthday partied

What else was there left to do? Turns out, plenty! When we weren’t boating, swimming and kayaking, we:

Caught plenty ‘o fish off the docks.


Played a lot of Rook, Scum and inhaled Jane’s delicious cooking (we’re not talking sub-par food, either. We’re talking a menu that included grilled tenderloin, Eggs Benedict, pina colada chicken burgers and smoked pork tacos).


And the woman even hand-delivered Screamers in her “spare” time when she wasn’t busy cooking and teaching everyone to wakeboard and surf.

We also:

Had campfires on the beach,


Spent hours building sand castles…

Mothering from my hammock

Or rather, sand toilets which are so much more practical.

We brought our volleyball net. My brothers and I were all MVPs of our high school teams and what started as our Return to Glory Tournament…
…ended with the one-bounce rule.

There was plenty of time for just hanging and chilling out.

Superhero cousins

Is it just me or does The Pumpkin Man glow orange?

We visited charming Davison Orchard Country Village where the six cousins posed for cheesy family tree photos.

Touched the sky.Toured the beautiful orchards on a “Johnny Popper Apple Train,” sitting in authentic apple bins as we were pulled by an antique John Deere Tractor.

And we bought jams, syrups, fudge, cobbler, fruit and lots of pies from the Country Market.

Aunt Sue and her pies

We had plenty of cousin time and on the last day, I asked cousin Connor (the blonde in the middle) if he had a good vacation.

“I’m glad I don’t have sisters” was his only reply.

Of course, a family reunion isn’t complete without family photos. Do you know those people who color coordinate and micro-manage every last detail of their perfect pictures? We are not those people. We were unshowered. Unmatching. Unclothed.

Grandkids

The menfolk

The “winners” of the unshowered club

And I wouldn’t have them any other way.Thanks to my awesome family for letting us soar with them this summer.