I Require Adult Supervision

Some time ago, I posted about feeling frustrated and stuck in life, and vowed to take action. Since I only have two hobbies (running and piano) and am loath to pick up a different one, it was fairly obvious that I'd continue to stretch myself there.

I started my piano lessons with Elaine almost 2 months ago. I love her...as a person, as a teacher, as a pianist. From the very first lesson she identified a technique issue that was really holding me back. The reason I had been feeling so frustrated was because I would go in fits and starts- I would practice like crazy but feel like I wasn't getting any better, then I'd lose motivation and not practice for a little while, then I really WASN'T getting any better. Elaine has unlocked the door for me- all of a sudden because I'm tweaking my technique, I see myself getting better and better every single week. Not only is the music sounding better, it feels so nice when I play it. She recently complimented me on how quickly I've adopted the new techniques, and I told her that I would be an idiot not to since it made playing so rewarding.

But, as is true with most things, you must be consistent to get the pay off. Let me tell you this: there is nothing quite as motivating as knowing you are going to have to face your enormously talented piano teacher on a weekly basis to get you practicing regularly. Even today, I really wanted to do this post because I've been thinking about it for weeks, but first, I marched upstairs and logged an hour tickling the ivories. I'm glad I did. And I'm so glad to have someone mentoring me and holding me accountable.

Speaking of mentoring and holding accountable...

I've been fantasizing about a new PR (that's personal record) in the half-marathon, but knew I needed to change my diet and training to get it. Enter Emilee, my bonus sister. Conveniently, she's a health and fitness coach, and she offered to help me. I'm a consistent runner/exerciser. I do not miss a day. Period. However, while my diet is largely good, I am known to eat mass quantities of candy. It's a terrible habit. I've frequently moaned, "If someone will just tell me what to eat, I will eat it!" Well, Emilee was completely willing to tell me what to eat, what to run, and what to strength train. We've had weekly meetings where she would switch my diet and workouts up, she would weigh me and take my body fat (Yes, I would totally scream "Last Chance Workout!" in my mind when I was at the gym the morning of our appointments), she would give me my runs for the week, and would just all around encourage me. So, no more Hot Tamales for lunch, since I couldn't lie to her and I also couldn't ADMIT that I had eaten Hot Tamales for lunch.

Doesn't she look nice? She is. Even when she "nicely" informs you that for the next three weeks you will be subsisting entirely on lean proteins, egg beaters, protein powder, oatmeal, brown rice, and non-starchy vegetables, and that's it.

But, thanks to her, I did it. I'm sporting a medal from the Ogden Half where I beat my last PR by 6 minutes. (Stats: 1:42:59, 7:48 on the miles. I came in 14th in my age group out of 412, 174 overall out of a group of 2361.) The other "medal" I'm wearing in this picture are my jeans: I'm down a pants size and lost almost 6 points on my body fat.

Liza ran with me of course.

She saved my bacon by giving up her GPS when I realized I left mine in the car.

For a runner, that is the ultimate sacrifice.

After the big race, we got to see the Hunter gals.
Jody, Merrilee, Liza, and Amber

Jody, Jamie, me, Liza, Amber, Emilee
Aren't my sisters pretty?!?

Jody is having a baby in a couple of months and we can't wait.

Back to the theme of my post:

I'm really grateful to have been mentored over the last couple of months. It's amazing what I've been able to accomplish, and I know I couldn't have done it without the encouragement and guidance I've received. Soon, I will have the piano equivalent of race day: a solo recital.

I'm crapping my drawers already about it.

Probably no one is invited.

And I mean that in the nicest possible way.

Kate.G.T.V.

I guess the fact that Kate wants to "decorate" her own room should be taken as a sign of her budding maturity.

I'm not bothered by a little religious paraphernalia...

...or some letters from her cousins...
...or her "All About Me" poster from kindergarten...

...or her homemade calendar counting down the days left in school.

Notice how she even made a pen holder for easy "x-ing?"I will admit that the thought of all that scotch tape on the painted walls kind of makes my blood pressure go up.

I guess that it is another sign of her growing maturity that Kate has embraced something I ABSOLUTELY DETEST.
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Kiki is her usual hilarious self. She says things like, "My legs are so damn hard. I could probably kick a dinosaur to the moon." And, "I've seen where Jesus lives. It's a castle, and it is REALLY brown." And, when Grandpa Jack was coming to babysit: "No tickling. No sunburns (Indian burns). I just want to watch a movie in Peace. And. Quiet."

Today, after Grandpa Jack had successfully discharged his babysitting duties, he helped me jump start my truck (for the fourth time this week) and followed me to Autozone for a replacement battery. He corralled Kiki while I purchased the battery, then hung out in the rain with us while the new one was installed. Back in the car, I remarked to Kiki, "Don't I have a nice dad? I think he is pretty much the nicest dad ever." She said, "Yeah...who is he?"

Also, I've been trying to explain rhyming to Kiki. "You know, Kiki, like rat, fat, cat, and mat," I said. "Yeah," she replied, "Well, what rhymes with pirate?"

My life would not be the same without these two.

Mother's Day Weekend

We are beginning to adjust to Bruce's new schedule. Being in the bishopric is no laughing matter! He has had quite a few meetings and visits the last few weeks. One thing I have realized (thankfully I'm learning this early on) is that it is pointless to complain or begrudge him when he is away. This week, he was gone on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights. On Friday he was headed to St. George to cheer on his brother in the Ironman. He definitely needed to be there to support his brother (Who finished! Go, Mark!), but the girls were not happy when they learned he would be gone for the weekend. I did my best to fill up the time so his absence would not be quite as painful. On Friday night, we went to the mall for some Mother's Day shopping, then dinner, then a movie. On Saturday, I was playing piano for my mom's choir in a competition sponsored by Lagoon, so I brought the girls and their favorite gal of all time, Paige. Paige was my babysitter for several years, and the girls love her dearly and we have become good friends, so she was the perfect choice to come with us.

We rode rides and ate cotton candy and got our first sunburns of the year. We were so exhausted by the time we came home, but I think the girls had a great time.

Bruce had thoughtfully helped the girls pick out some gifts for me before he left town, and they were so excited to give them to me for Mother's Day that they were up Sunday before 6 a.m. We went to church and I managed a nap (despite the fact that Bruce brought home cowbells for the girls as Ironman souvenirs) and then we had dinner with my mom.

I try not to assign too much meaning to Mother's Day. Mainly, I try not to get my hopes up that it will be a day of rest and ease and pampering because I don't think that those really exist for moms. What I try to do instead is really appreciate my own mom and all that she has done for me. I think a lot about my mother-in-law and how much I appreciate that she raised a good son.

When Liza and I both had our first children, they were born only a few months apart. Liza was living in American Fork at the time, and we spent an incredible amount of time together. As a result of familiarity and a striking physical resemblance, Liza and I were almost interchangeable
to the babies. We started calling each other "Fake Mom," and the term has gradually grown to encompass the many women who have influenced my life. One of my Fake Moms dropped by a Mother's Day gift for me with a personal and loving message inside. I'm so grateful for her- she is my mom's best friend and she has known me my whole life. She has dispensed love and wisdom on more occasions than I can count, and now my children are the beneficiaries of that love as well. I realized as I read the card that there is nothing "fake" about the relationship at all. Her love is very real, her influence is real, she is a grandma to my kids. I hope the "Fake Mom" title isn't a disservice to her!

I'm Glad To Finally Get It In Writing.