Emerald Pools--Zion's National Park

In August, the kids and I (and Bailey-pad--my right hand woman!) and some extended family went to Zions National Park. I love this place!

Naturally, Jack decided the top of Emerald pools was the perfect place to relieve himself. So much so that he finished the hike on the way down nakie.

-what you can't see here is a no swimming sign-

We hiked during the day and swam and played tennis by night and had a great time, with one exception, one of the people we were traveling with behaved inappropriately toward me. When writing up this post I was absolutely not going write anything about what happened. But every time my kids see the pics from this trip they mention this incident so I thought I would say a few things so as they later look through this journal they will also remember my thoughts on the subject.

Kids:

You can't control how other people behave but you can control their access to you, meaning you don't have to continue to expose yourself to them. You move past. Crappy things happen but we don't need to carry them around with us. Forgive others and yourself--that does not mean things go back to how they were--and let it go.

Tour de jour

Throw every expectation out the window (or boat in our case). Last week we returned from our first, and last, trip to Cabo San Lucas. (For the same money, I prefer Hawaii .) We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves on the last night of our trip. The Mexicans offered us a glass bottom boat tour about 10-times-a-day and we took them up on it on the last night! We had low, low, low expectations of the excursion because of the seemingly real possibility that the crappy boat could sink, run out of fuel, or our inebriated captain could just fall overboard.

My mama and brother Josh accompanied us on the tour de jour—these two also love to have fun and throw caution to the wind! Moises was our captain and even through inebriated, he was darling. Upon boarding the “vessel” Moises inquired how much we had paid to his wrangler; “$45” we chimed. Moises shook his head sincerely because the wrangler paid him $10 for his services.

Despite this, Moises cheerfully took us to see much more than the famous Arch of Cabo San Lucas that was promised (see the sea lion above? There were TONS of them!). Halfway through the trip we filled his tip jar with the rest of the money in our pockets, which sadly was only like $14 dollars; all of us wanted to give more to our darling Moises.

Chad and I were so impressed with Moises—he received a paltry sum for his services but maintained a great attitude. He threw out food to attract the fishes and they came by the hundreds! Bright yellow and black fish, Nemos, tiny orange fish, blue/green fish, long black fish. It was seriously SO cool.

Moises took us over to the pelicans hang out and we couldn’t get over how giant they were. We saw about 50 of them! Throughout the charter, Moises was shouting for us to look at this, and to look at that, hey, it’s Scooby-Doo rock, see it? See it? Look at this cave—it’s where two people go in and three people come out—Owen was particularly curious about this observation. Look, it’s a rock shaped like the Virgin Mary, etc, etc. We couldn’t see everything, but the Scooby-Doo rock was spot on.

The tour lasted maybe 90 minutes and we enjoyed every second of it. We couldn’t get over how great it was. This was probably due to our low expectations going in. Expectations are a dicey tomato. While it’s important to have high standards of people and experiences, this can often lead to disappointment and frustration. The tour was so great because we went with no preconceived notions. We were able to just enjoy it for what it was and see it for all the positives that it offered—ignoring that the vessel was the equivalent to a blow up row boat or that any quick movement on it could sink us.

This experience was a good reminder to us to just mellow out and look for the positive because even things that aren’t perfect can be pretty darn amazing.

This is hard, you're worth it and I'm trying.

Fair warning: I might emotionally vomit on you if keep reading. Accompanying this emotional vomit are photos from the day Chad and I thought the Mead children were ready for a four mile hike. These photos show a very trying experience for all involved.

I know motherhood is the most important thing I will ever do, but I often feel certain -- sometimes daily -- that I am irrevocably screwing it up. Logically I know that large cups of chocolate milk will be split and that we will clean it up and all survive. Yet, when it happens I'm pissed off. Irritation surges through me like blood through arteries. If you don't already know let me tell you that irritation and motherhood go hand-in-hand.

My mom often exclaimed, "I'm going to have a nervous breakdown!!!!" I remember thinking, "Phefp, what's she freaking out over?" Mom, I feel you now! I get it. Maybe I'll have one or maybe I already did (my memory is shot too). It's probably for the best.

All four of you are flawed. You're impatient, selfish, insensitive, oversensitive, negative, lazy -- I could go on and on. The thing is, I suffer from a lot of the weaknesses too. Yet, here we all are, together trying to work it out. Seems like kind of a sick joke; putting insensitive people next to overly-sensitive people. Sometimes I'm sure God is up there having a really good laugh; the kind where you're re-watching a favorite movie and you start giggling before the funny thing happens. Probably exactly like that, but by now the joke must have gotten old. Certainly he's now thinking "Really? This situation still irritates you!? Get it together."

Tone. I have a problem with tone. Not really the screaming or yelling but speaking in a tone that clearly communicates I don't like you, I'm mad at you. Staph. Then it happens, your shoulders sink in and suddenly you seem so small; I see how deeply I have cut you and I hate myself. I know that despite reacting appropriately over the three prior irritating things I have now blown it over this trivial thing and you don't remember how we happily cleaned up 1,000 cheerios together just an hour ago.

I often think, "I never speak to my friends or husband this way, why can't I get it together for the people who need me the most?" But then I also think, "I wouldn't be friends with someone who never appreciated me or ruined my dress and then later told me how disgusting my dinner was." Seriously, raising kids ain't for whimps.  Especially after you factor in that their ingratitude and rudeness is also your fault! Why haven't you taught them better? Aghhhhh!

Our lesson at church today was The Words we Speak. I felt guilty -- naturally -- and reflected on how just last night Luke told me that I talk to him angry a lot. When I tucked him in I told him he was right and that I am trying and that I'll try to do better, then I apologized and we both cried. As part of the lesson today we were given time to consider, if we had only 25 words we could give to our families what would they be.

Here's mine: I love you. I'm sorry. I'm trying. It's harder then it looks. I'm imperfect, You're worth it.

I only got 18 words down before I was blubbering and could no longer concentrate on what my imaginary last words to you would be. Where my head was at is pretty clear; I'm feeling bad and know I need to do better.

One adjective I didn't list before that belongs squarely behind my name is determined. I am determined to be better at this; for you and for me. Because we were put together to smooth out each others rough edges and both become better for the journey.

Laughter is the best medicine.

Meet Shelly. She makes me laugh.

Notice that the paddle is also through her bikini top -- the girl's got skills.

The thing is . . . life is hard, annoying, disappointing, scary, messy and, don't forget, irritating (there's a lot of that). There's also a lot of joy. Here's a tale of joy; the kind that makes me glad I've had four C-sections and can still bust my gut laughing until I'm literally in tears.

Shelly and I often paddle board and somehow find ourselves in bizarre and painful situations. Possibly due to a potent cocktail of self-confidence and I fancy myself as having a good sense of direction. Once, Shelly, Amanda and I decided to go down the river. Upon seeing the river, Amanda immediately put her board back in her car and announced that she was out -- the water level was too low. Shelly and I looked at each other with the same thought in mind: "eff this river! I came here to have a good time and I'll be damned if I'm leaving before it's been had."

Off we went. We had good times. Insanity and hilarity ensued because, of course, the water level was too low. This may or may not have caused Shelly to fly off her board at about 10 mph, face first, into two inches water (the river bed is mostly gravel and rock -- ouch!). I may or may not have laughed so hard that I fell off my board at this point. Who can remember? But if I did, keep in mind that compassion isn't my strong suit. I was raised with five brothers after all.

We continued down the river laughing and having a darned good time, which brings us to the above photo. Notice the large and tiny rocks and general lack of foot wear? This point in the river is called pullout four.

Jamie: "Whelp, fun's over. We're here. Time to get out." ("Let's pull over to the side furthest from the exit and walk across an extra mile of rocks just for fun.") The part in parenthesis may not have been actually spoken out loud, but the truthfulness of it is certain.

Shelly, "K"

We walked across about 100 yards of rock shards, which, literally, to this day, IS THE MOST PAINFUL thing I've ever experienced! And I ain't no princess. Don't forget we were both carrying our paddles and heavy 12-foot boards. Take a moment and get the mental picture. We are hobbling, carrying a heavy weight, and mentally cursing every painful step of the way -- at least I was, and I'm pretty sure Shell was too. But we were also dying of laughter, like the kind where snot involuntarily blows out your nose (sorry for the mental image).

After about 25 minutes of this we reached the parking lot. Victory! But we were at the wrong pullout. Oh! My car was parked miles away at the Phon pullout, which meant we had to retread the ground we'd just covered to get back into the water to paddle the extra five miles to get the right location. Shelly may or may not have cursed at me. Who can remember? Maybe it was just the noise of me loudly cursing myself in my head.

Jamie: "Well, $#*! we're at the wrong place! We've got to go back and go further down the river. Let's go."  This is a summary, the actual statement included a lot of dumbfounded frustration and gut busting laughter.

Shelly: "Wait!" She kept hobbling back to the parking lot expecting my car to appear. Or maybe she was referencing the map again -- not trusting herself to my navigation skills ever again -- I can't be certain.

Eventually, we summoned the courage to go back down the hill over those forsaken rocks to get back on our way. Three fourths of the way to river I called to strangers to help carry our boards the rest of the way. They ran over to grab them from us and Shelly hobbled on, struggling to finish what she had started. Though exhausted she still managed to tell them, "ignore her, don't help her." Thankfully, they ignored her and I made it to the cool water's edge, unburdened.

Shelly followed closely behind me eager for the coolness of the river and in the process deftly dropped her board squarely on her left foot.  I somehow found this to be hilarious and dropped to the earth in hysterics. She did the same. Her foot was jacked up for weeks, which still makes me giggle every time I think about it. Every. Single. Time.

Good hair is hard to come by.

In no particular order. . .a hair journey through the years:

• fifteen tiny knots on the head trend
• Katie Holmes hair of 2007- dumpy version
• Cowlick dead center of hair with curls and hot pink hair accessory
• Some of these I cannot comprehend
• Tried for years to be blonde
• Nati-curl 
• Plastic hair cap under straw hat, sexy!

Now that you are armed with A LOT of blackmail I'll end it with some good ole fashion Sunday hair otherwise known as the pinnacle.

This will wet your appetite:

Been missing yourself some Mead action, can't sleep at night due to lack of Mead knowledge? I know, I know. I've been a bad family journalist.

As punishment (for everyone involved) I will share photos of me trying my wedding dress back on last month on Chad and I's SIXTEEN year anniversary! It just so happened that I caught a stomach bug and was positively ill for two days straight. I rallied for 30 min to try my dress on, not enough to fix my ponytail that was trying to turn itself into a low side ponytail but only managed to get to the side. You are welcome!! 

I'll be back positing on the Mead goings-on with things that are not to be forgotten shortly. . .

Mountains make me feel weathly

One of my aunts (VV!) lives in Utah and her house backs up to a mountain. This made a HUGE impression on me and I always wanted a similar landscape when I grew up. Whenever we visited we would always go hike the mountain and I absolutely loved it!

Grew up I did and live on a mountain I did! Yay! I go out on these trails at least four times a week and run/walk and solve the worlds (or at least mine) problems with girlfriends. Occasionally armed with my pepper spray I go it alone and thanks to the endorphins and music I come home thinking I can just about do anything. This part of my life brings me so much joy and makes me feel richly blessed.

Bounce

I'm waxing serious today, my apologies.

We've had two hospital adventures this past month and the day after the first one I was chatting with Eda. She called to see how I was recovering from the prior two days events. I was in the car just finished with a yoga class and on my way to Trader Joes, she commented to me that I sure do bounce back from craziness quickly.

I thought about it and thought YES! --I'm sure trying. I probably didn't always used to but once you have been through ALL of the insane medical insanity we've been through (I thought about doing a funny list here but then thought---that'd take forever to write!) your perspective kinda changes. That and I've seen WAY WAY worse. I've seen babies that will never leave the hospital, babies leave their family, kids and families endure so much adversity that your heart could break.

The thing of it is, we are in for it. This life is for growth and learning--so you better believe you will be challenged to your limits, and you're never done. Death is beginning to sound not so bad, eh? I kid, I kid.

Crappy, difficult things are bound to happen to everyone. Learning to be able to pick that ball up and run with it is something I aspire to do and I love seeing it in others. People that are sucking the marrow out of this life. Why the hell not! Life's pretty awesome! Fall down; get back up and run to something better.

Leave yesterdays bad day there, don't bring it into the totally awesome day that's staring you in the face today.

This photo showcases a vintage dress given to me by the lovely Eda...plans for it...

Hurry!! Quick somebody call my husband. . .

It's the middle of the day on a Monday and I'm wearing lipstick. It's a miracle.

 

Now, if I could just perfect my posing skills

Mr. Mead was trying to compliment me yesterday about how sessy I was looking at the moment. It went something like this, " Waimy, you're lookin good!!! Those high heel shoes, the panty hose, tight sweater (etc, etc, etc) and you even have LIPSTICK too!! (hopefully the all caps relay the emphasis he put on this point)."

Something about the way he said it made me a wee defensive for a sec; I mean, are you sayin that I rarely look this together???!!!  A few minutes later there was a meeting of the minds; "waim, you're beautiful but ya' know. . .Sunday's are usually your high water mark though."

Ha!!!

. . .Sunday's, you better watch out for Mondays!
(I'm probably going to be in trouble now (tee he he))

P.S.  A few favorite things of the day:: Phillip Phillips song Home---it's up loud and on repeat (go ahead and live with me--I will make you hate a song by listening to it one bazillion times), Flowerbomb perfume from Sephora--perfection, my UGG slippers--obviously and Pawn Shops!!!---along with the paddleboard Mr. Mead gave me for my birthday I scored a Michael Kors watch I've been crushing on but couldn't pull the trigger on due to it's $300 price tag. Pawn Shop price?---$65 bucks, its possibly stolen, but it needed a good home, so I decided to put it out of it's misery. ~~~love~~~

This is not another post about mountains.

Well, only kind of.

Putting your oxygen mask on first is an excellent metaphor for being able to give others and yourself your best. Every Saturday morning I nurse Jack to sleep and race out my door to go for a hike. Sometimes I go with a friend (remember Jenny?!!!!) or just with my iPod. These hours fill me up. I appreciate Chad so much during these times for making it a priority to give me this time.

I come home invigorated; ready to get chilly waters, do deep compression massages with Jack, make my man a panni, whatever! This little time, while not at a very convenient time is so important to me. This time of life that I am in right now is wonderful but challenging. Everyone needs me but I also have my needs to. If I neglect my interests and things that fill me up I am not as good for my family. I'm more irritated, short tempered and not my usual wonderful self. ;)

I have demands on me and my time coming in from all around. Which is wonderful to be so needed but for me its important to not give everything away. These days it's important to be able to say no. Things are hectic and crazy most days so what I choose to spend my time on generally means I am so no to something else. Keeping this in mind when I'm asked to do something or even things I plan for myself helps me to prioritize.

Happy days are here. Multiple times a day I look around and reflect on the beauty of my life.

--pics from a hike I took the kids on at Pappago park a few weeks ago.

Bless their heart.

There are many wonderful things about the South. One of them is this very popular saying, "Bless their heart." Once this is said the say'er has carte blanche to completely insult that person.

Let me tell you. IT IS AN INCREDIBLY USEFUL conversational tool.

I mean, a lady (especially a Southern lady) wouldn't want to demean herself by speaking ill of her neighbor. BUT! We've got loads of gossip/bad stuff to say about them. What to do, what to do?

They say necessity is the mother of all invention. Enter three very important words. . .bless their heart.

Now that you have an insight into Southern ways I will continue with my story.

My neighbors; bless their heart, should be destroyed for how they have hung their Christmas lights. Some may think this is possibly too strong of a statement. It is not. Let me tell you this, it is much much worse in person. It is an abomination. We watched the process unfold in disbelief.

Watching. . . waiting. . .wondering; are they INTENTIONALLY hanging that hodge-podge collection of lights together with ABSOLUTELY NO REGARD for its effect on the human eye. They also disregarded the precious brain that must process the images that the eyes send it. And the brain REMEMBERS with frightening detail the arrangement/colors of lights! THE HORROR. THE HORROR!


I'm not very good with my NEW! camera yet, but I'm trying to give you a better idea of what we are experiencing here. The desert has many charms, but a backdrop for Christmas lights? Um, I'd probably just have to pass on that. But hey, we don't have to shovel anything wet and cold!


Again! Sorry for the fuzzy picture, but if I take it with my flash it doesn't show the wonderful spectrum of colors we are subjected to every time we come home after dark.

Maybe we'll just have to take a page out of Will Smith's book in I am Legend and get home before the horribleness begins. This is just about as awful as super-strong, human-eating zombies trying to rip the flesh off your body. This is where being color blind would actually work for you.

Disclaimer! Our neighbors are incredibly nice people, but they have horrible, horrible taste. And for that, they deserve to be judged and condemned.

Bless their hearts.