Running

Early in May the high school track team sponsored a community track meet.  We signed the boys up for a few events and Brandan and I decided we would run the mile, except we turned into me.  A couple of days before the race, Brandan pulled his calf muscle and was struggled to walk let alone run.  Like a good sympathetic wife I responded with anger.  I wasn't at all excited to run by myself. The boys promised me their support, however, so I sucked it up and decided not to fake an injury.

To humiliate me, the track team had one of the high school runners participate in the race.  Hannah is also one of my Young Women so it was actually kind of fun to have a running buddy.  With her help and the motivation of a trying to beat the male teacher in the race, I ran a 6:27.  I don't know when a 6:27 became an almost unattainable goal, but it has, so I was proud of myself.  But, seriously, when did it?

Sport and Colt stretching (?) before the 25m dash.

And they're off!

Running!

Colt took 4th in his race!

Dash in the 100m dash.

A tight race.

Dash took 4th in his race.  And those are all his buddies on the stand with him.

Colt taking a handoff in the Kindergarten relay.

Running his leg.

Colt's team took 2nd! Yes, a team of girls beat his team.  And, no, it didn't go unnoticed or unmourned.

Dash handing off the baton in the 2nd grade relay.  If it looks like the little gal on the right is about to hit the track its because she is.

Dash's team won the relay!

This last year I've learned something about myself and running.  I started examining my own motivation to run when people questioned me about running through my pregnancy with Tag up to his delivery and then again 10 days later. Why do I run?  I'm not tougher than average or more motivated than most, but I've discovered...I am an adrenaline junkie.  I'm an adrenaline junkie in a traditional marriage with 5 young children.  I don't drink, smoke or do drugs.  I don't gamble or chase thrills like ski diving.  But I like adrenaline.  And so I run.  And I run just hard enough to hurt a little bit.  Fast may be relative, but pain is pain.  It's how I get my hit.  It's my daily fix.  After my morning jog and I can go back to worrying about whether or not my kids are wearing warm enough jackets, watching too much tv, and eating enough vegetables because I already fed my addiction.  Running is my rebellion.  

Thoughts on Being a Mom - Written on Mother"s Day

I think I must have wanted to be a mom my whole life.  I know because I remember the games I played.  As little girls, Cam and I would play pretend "church".  The sacrament meeting was held in the basement and the pews were the bottom stairs.  We would bounce our baby dolls in our laps while we took turns bearing our testimonies.  Inevitably, while one of us was at the “pulpit” (a boom box with the antenna extended for a microphone) pouring out our soul in fake tears, the others baby would become fussy.  We would look apologetic and exasperated before slinking out of the “chapel”, careful not to make eye contact with the rest of the congregation.  This must be an innate skill.

By the time I was 10, I had proof of my ambition.  That summer I shopped a garage sale with Mom and the sisters.  I was sorting through piles of baby clothes for baby Jess when I found a tiny plaid button up shirt for a dime.  I knew a bargain when I saw one so I bought that shirt and tucked it into my cedar chest.  Over the next few years my career aspirations changed (at one point I dreamed of being a cashier who could look bored while  my fingers flew over the keys on a register), but through it all, I still hoped to be a mom.  Twenty-two years after the garage sale summer, I've dressed four babies in that tiny plaid shirt.  And every time I do I am reminded how lucky I am.  How many people grow up to be exactly what they want to be?     

(As for the cashier gig - there is still time.)

Two month old Tag dressed in the shirt that is becoming a family heirloom.

The Tulip Festival

The weekend following Easter, I took Tag and Sis and headed to Lehi, Utah to meet Annie and Jessie Jacobsen (yes, their names have changed now, but...semantics), Cam and their daughters.  We all have only one daughter a piece so it was a perfect number of females for a Girls' Weekend (lucky for Tag, he is cute enough to be tolerated).  We spent Saturday afternoon at the Tulip Festival and then lounged at the hotel pool eating pizza and watching the girls swim in the evening.  We headed our separate ways Sunday morning, so it was a short weekend, but completely awesome nonetheless.

Hannah and Sis at the festival.

All the little ladies.

A pretty waterfall.

Sis abandoned her shoes halfway around the gardens.

Sweet little Sis posing politely. 

Pretty maids all in a row.

Tag, Sis and I at the end of our tour.  Funny story about the flower in Sissy's hair - Hannah gave it to her and I thought it must have come out of Hannah's hair.  Come to find out, Hannah found it on the ground and noticed it matched Sis's shirt.  No sign of head lice yet.

The little girls loved, loved, loved swimming.  I told Sis she had to stay on the stairs, but the other girls kept a close proximity and so Sis had a great time as well.

Tag is two months!

Little baby Tagalong is the absolute smiliest baby I've ever encountered.  I guess he has adopted a "come what may and love it" attitude.  Probably for the best.

At two months his stats were as follows:

Height - 22.50 inches (14th percentile)

Weight - 10 lbs 7 oz (23rd percentile)

Head - 27th percentile

Clayson Family Reunion 2015

This year, the Clayson Family Reunion was on Easter weekend.  We had such a great time with our family enjoying each others' company and participating in some Easter traditions.

We started the day off with an Easter egg hunt at the Firth football field.  Colt found a familiar face.  He and Madison chased eggs together.

It was really fun (and relaxing) to have the older cousins help with herding kids through the egg hunt.  Kyle took Sport and Boe was in charge of Sis.  As Kyle put it -"The Dream Team".

 I can never take enough pictures of egg dyeing.  Maybe because it gets me out of actually having to help dye eggs.

Sport and Colt and the family hard at it.

Dash and Sis with more of the cousins.

That's the look of someone who takes this work seriously.

Designing

Dipping.

Desperate to get her hands on more.

Colt and the cousins playing a card game.

Sis and Grandpa taking a nap.

The treasure hunt.

After the initial crowd of cousins rushed towards the eggs, Sport came streaking around the corner screaming out for everyone to "save some {eggs} for the baby!" He was referring to Peyton who was very patiently being walked through the treasure hunt by his older siblings.  Did this Mom's heart good.  Maybe there was a little bit of the true spirit of Easter in that day after all.

And then there is Dash and Colt.  These two (three counting Andrew) were most particularly interested in the
end-of-the- hunt booty.

Tag's Blessing

We decided to have Tag blessed in Idaho in conjunction with the Clayson family reunion at Easter time.  Tag uncharacteristically screamed through the whole prayer, but it was still touching to see so many worthy priesthood holders in our families surround our infant and participate in the blessing.

Tag in his blessing outfit made by Grandma Clayson.  I mean, seriously.

Grandma Madsen made the booties. A perfect fit!

Gorgeous.

Great-Grandma Minnie, Tag and Brandan.  Grandma Minnie died just three weeks later at the age of 100.  We were blessed to have had her at the blessing and in our lives.

5 generations.  And this is the absolute best shot out of probably 20.  Let's just say the ability to pay attention to the photographer is not a family trait.

Some of the family at the dinner after the blessing.

Tag and I.  I'm so in love with this little man and grateful to have him in my life and in our family.

March 2015

I'm so incredibly far behind on the blog.  I'm giving up on trying to be thorough and focusing on getting through.  So, I'll get through March in one giant post.


Tag hit his one month mark at the beginning of March.  His stats at his appointment are as follows:

Height - 21.25 inches (10th percentile)

Weight - 8 lbs 8 oz (25th percentile)

Head - 14.75 inches

Tag at 3.5 weeks old.  Sweetest little blue-eyed baby.

Sunday afternoon.  Dad, Sport and Colt zonked out on the bed.

Sunday afternoon.  Sis didn't make it on the bed, but she crashed on the floor.

Sunday afternoon.  Tag is scared of the quiet.

Tag the day before 5 weeks.  Practicing his head hold.  Different from a headlock, which is a skill he'll need to pick up later.

Tag snuggling on the couch.

I've discovered I'm a bit of a gambler.  I'm always gambling with Tag's well-being.  For instance, I leave him unattended in the middle of the bed while I use the bathroom.  Gamble.  I come out to find Sis arranging Tag across her lap.  With four older siblings the odds are really stacked against us.

Dash, Tag, and Colt watching the ESPN highlights early in the morning before the boys start getting ready for school.

 March was the month of the much anticipated/dreaded Pinewood Derby.  Dash designed and painted his car.  Our only wish was that he not take last in every race.  Correction, one of our wishes was that he not take last in every race.  We also hoped he wouldn't take first in every race and book up not only our Saturday morning with the Stake races, but our Saturday afternoon as well, participating in the District race.  I guess you can't win them all.  By that I mean Brandan and I can't win them all.  Dash freakishly did.  His little car, that was slapped together with Shoe Goo and a rusted out bolt, won 1st place in our ward and went on to take 9th out of 60 cars at the District race.  And it only took all day.

Dash and his Scout buddies.

Dash with his car and "driver's license".  Not a sentence I want to type again for a very, very long time.

Setting up his car at the race.

I'm not sure why I have so many pictures of Sis on the tramp, but there is something so charming about carefree hair.