Christmas is here!

While getting ready for Christmas and trying to recover from surgery, things became a little tricky. The girls and Miguel really stepped up to help me. Luckily, I had already completed my Christmas shopping, but wrapping was another story. I had most of it done, but then there was my Mother's box of goodies. We also needed to make our neighbor treats.
My doctors orders was to not lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk. That is a tall order with so many things to do. I also quickly learned that my digestive system was my worst enemy! Every movement felt like it was ripping through my stitches, or whoever they had done in there. It was very painful at times, but I managed to get through it. By Monday I was getting anxious to get out of the house and walk, so I went early in the morning to the Rec center with Miguel. Right at the start, I was worried that I wasn't going to be able to do this. I had some sharp pains, but I persevered and made my way around the indoor track 4-5 times at the pace of a snail. The golden girls were walking laps around me, and I desperately wish I had made a sign that said, "don't judge...just had surgery!" It was quite depressing to see all of the things I couldn't do at that moment and how far it seemed I had to go to get to that point. 
Here are the treats we made this year. It is hot chocolate on a stick. They tasted pretty good, but I don't know that it was worth the price it cost to make, or the trouble. Max was pretty impressed by the amount of trash he was collecting by unwrapping all of the peppermint pieces. They were all pretty helpful.



Once Christmas Eve arrived we were pretty much ready to go. The girls had been telling that they really wanted to open one gift on Christmas Eve, so I told them that I had a special surprise for them. They assumed it was a present from under the tree, but I had a better idea. I told them that they couldn't have the gift unless they were dressed up and presentable. Here they are before the surprise.

Gabriela decided to dress Max up like a true Mexican and Max named himself Brandino. We all laughed pretty hard, except for Max. He was ready to go hang out and help Grandma prepare for the party later that day. 
Once we dropped Max off we headed to Shelley's house to get Annabelle. We then started our drive up to Salt Lake. On the way, we handed each girl and envelope with their name on it and had them open them up all at once. We were surprising them with tickets to the Nutcracker ballet by Ballet West at the Capital Theatre. They were excited and I wanted to expose them to something nice.

Ballet West always does such a nice job and the dancers have some serious talent. Makes me wish I had a ballet background. Afterwards, we were off to our family party at Shelley's house.

I'm officially divorcing Andres. Adios!

Well the day finally arrived. I had been contemplating this decision for over a year, but in October I finally decided to take action and move forward. I had been having issues ever since my last C-section with Max and thy seemed to be getting worse each month. In October things had gotten bad enough that I was having to take narcotics in order to get through the pain. That was at the final straw for me and I started calling my doctors back trying to schedule my hysterectomy. I knew Christmas was probably the best time with work, however my OBGYN didn't think so. They told me I had to wait 3 months to even get an appointment with him, and I knew I would have to wait another 3 months for surgery. Ugh, tell my uterus to wait 6 months!

So I started researching and looking for a new doctor. A friend of mine suggested Dr. Gourley, so I called him up and they got me in within a week. Since I had already had all of the previous work done (biopsy & ultrasound) and had been given the go ahead for surgery at Valley OB, the process was quite simple. He said that we could set the date for whenever I wanted. That's my kind of service! We were set for Dec. 16th.  

I'm not gonna lie, I was a bit nervous for this. Was I really sure I was done having children? Every time I had that thought, I remembered the issues and problems I had with each of my c-sections and it solidified my decision. I've been blessed with 4 beautiful and healthy children, and I tend to over 75 children every day. It just wasn't worth the pain that I was experiencing every month. 

We went in bright and early in the morning and they drew blood, tagged me, and started me on some antibiotics. Miguel was a good companion, always calm and steady. They finally wheeled me off to the holding room where I met with the doctor one last time, as well as the anesthesiologist. I told I was good and that I would be fine as long as they didn't hand me a baby when I woke up. They reassured me they could find me one, if I wanted, but I think I'll pass. The last thing I remember was moving onto the operating table and looking to my right to see this giant white spender looking robot with 4 arms. I know they were playing music, but then...I was out.
When I woke up I was in my room. I happened to pull back my gown and it looked like I had been in a drive by shooting! I had 5 incisions and they were really high up? I hadn't expected that. Pretty soon, Miguel returned and there we were. What's done was done. I was free and liberated. Now the hard part...recovery.
While I was chillin' in the room, I decided it would be a good day to finish the Book of Mormon. It had been one of my New Year's goal, and I was happy to accomplish that as well on this monuments day. We also decided to have a Survior finale there at the hospital with the girls. It was great. Max even came to visit with Grandma. I went home the following day. Surgery stinks but overall this was a much better experience than having a C-section. I was able to get up and walk the same day and it actually felt better to stand than to sit.  We'll see how the following week goes.

And we'll ascend together!

In preparation for my Himlayan expedition in two weeks my professor gathered our group together to spend the night up at Brighton in order to help us better acclimatize for our trip. I knew we were going to hike and then find a place to spend the night, so I prepared my things to backpack up in the mountains. Our little family has been helping me prepare by taking hikes up along the Wasatch front here in Utah Valley, so I thought I was pretty prepared for what was about to happen. The group had decided to taste some Himalayan cuisine so we met first at the Himalayan Kitchen in Salt Lake and then headed up to the cabin. By the time we arrived it was well after 7:30 and my professor thought it would be best if I stayed in the cabin, but Miguel insisted we have this klondike camping experience, so we loaded up our packs in the dark and started out on the trail at about 8,000 feet of elevation. As soon as we got on the trail it was dark and Miguel was leading the group with me closely behind him. The trail was a vertical incline that headed straight up the mountain with patches of snow. That distance between Miguel and I got further and further apart because my asthma always kicks in with climbing at fast speeds uphill, and this was definitely uphill! I paused and let the members of the group pass me. I was burning up and ready to throw my pack over the cliff I was having such a hard time breathing. At that moment, all I wanted was for everyone to pretend I didn't exist and keep moving forward so I could deal with my challenges alone....all except for Miguel. I had two members of the group trying to coax me up that mountain, while I'm insisting for them to go on without me. I knew I could do it, but I needed some space and to go at my own pace and the peer pressure was so intense and I was embarrassed. All I kept thinking in my mind was "Where is Miguel! When is he going to come back for me!" Eventually he did come and it was such a relief. I didn't have to pretend, and he grabbed my hand and together we walked up that freezing cold dark mountain together. Hand in Hand! I didn't know if he felt like he was dragging me up that mountain, or what it was, but it was so much more doable hand in hand. At one point he handed me the end of a short rope and he held the other, so we were tethered together. He claims it is all psychological and that he wasn't pulling me, but whatever it was, it worked. It was in this tender moment that I was highly aware of how much I needed him. I knew that together we could do all things, including surviving the night on this mountain.

We eventually caught up with the group and that was when we decided to start finding a place to stay the night. The mountain was still at an angle so we dug around, and walked around by flashlight trying to find a flat enough spot to try to put up a tent. I stood there and froze as I watched the scoutmaster find a makeshift hoe out of a tree branch and dig us out a spot on the side of the mountain. We put that tent up, propped one end up with our backpacks and fallen trees, and burrowed down for the night. As I lay there frozen in my sleeping bag the thought came to me that if you want to see your spouse shine, put them in their element, and watch them go. He was my hero that night.

What was it that Miguel could satisfy verses the rest of my team? I think it was because I knew he wasn't thinking any ill will and that he had a genuine concern for me. It wasn't a race up the mountain, and that he wanted me to make it. He knew my challenges and was sensitive to them. I could be open and honest with him. My heart grew three sized that night, as I watched him take care of me, and we were both able to rejoice in our success the next morning. I did take comfort in the fact that he said his scouts would have cried doing what we did that night.

What can I say...I'm in love with Miguel!

My Artistic Struggle

So, it's 3:30 in the morning and my mind is racing. I came home from my first graduate meeting so full of ideas and questions about my job and about myself. I figure the only way I'm going to be able to sleep is if I get up and dump my brain on paper.
A couple of things I've been thinking about is my role as artist/teacher. For years I have so uncomfortable with the idea of artist. I didn't like calling myself an artist, because quite frankly...I didn't make art. Sure, I did artistic like things, like sewing quilts and making birthday cakes, sewing clothes for my kids, and other stuff, but I did not make art like I did in high school. I never put pencil to paper or brush to canvas like I had done in the past. My journey went from making art in high school, and feeling pretty successful, to making art for professors at BYU, to having a baby and raising 4 children. So it has been about 14 years since I made art for myself.
I struggle with that, as I teach. Sometimes I feel like a fraud and that I'm hiding that fact from my students. Do they know that their art teacher doesn't make art? I've thought about making art a lot, and get inspired to make it all the time, so I go out and buy art making materials, and then they just sit in a drawer. I think I'm terrified by the thought of having lost my talent, or that I can't do it, or I'll make bad art. I'm so worried about the outcome, that I never pick up the brush and enjoy the process.

I've also been stewing over my students as I watch them try to figure out what pleases me as an instructor. They want my feedback and affirmations constantly and simply can't stop and enjoy what they are doing. I had a girl yesterday that had inscribed her upside down drawing onto her paper by placing the image onto her sketchbook, tracing really hard over to imprint, and then sketch over it. She brought it to me to pass off as her own, and was looking for me to congratulate her on her perfection. I totally called her out on it. Others kept complaining the assignment was hard, or that they simply couldn't do it. They couldn't just enjoy what they were doing.

I need to embrace the ideas that it takes 10, 000 hours to become an expert or that the more times you fail the closer you come to succeeding. I need to overcome the paralyzing sensation that comes when I look at a blank piece of paper or a blank canvas.

So my questions tonight are:
1. How can I myself learn to enjoy the art making process more than the outcome?
2. How can I get my students to enjoy the process?
3. What are some open ended projects that are unpredictable, that do not focus on the outcome, but rather the evolution of the artwork.
4. How do you develop an artistic process?
5. How will finding my own artistic voice impact my teaching in the classroom?
6. How can my students learn from watching me explore ideas and seeing me create?


In response to these questions, I had an example last year of where I tried to do an unpredictable art lesson with the students and it was all based on chance. It was a Spiral Art Ed. lesson based on chance. We put on music and created collaged poster boards. When the music stopped, we passed ours to the next person and did this for a couple of days until we had all of them covered. I then randomly passed them out to the students and had them create meaningful art work on top that had to do with chance in their lives.

They hated every minute of it.

I felt like it was the most meaningful art they had produced all year and they looked amazing hanging up in the hallway. But you know what, not one of the students took theirs home. I ended up having to throw them all away? Why? I couldn't wrap my brain around it! But you know what they loved. Graffiti art that they copied off the computer.

I think it was because it was defined. They knew what the outcome was. We have programmed our students in schools to find the right answers and to get the highest grade possible. But art just does not work like that. Students are afraid of experimentation because of the risk of failure. I am too, quite frankly.  But where lies the creativity in that? I think we've squished the creativity right out of ourselves and our kids. So my question is,

How do we get it back?

To be continued....                                                                         (I'm going to try to sleep now.)

I'm a SOCCER MOM!

So we started soccer this year. For a long time now, I've had my hunch that Sophia could be great at soccer. She's just built for it and she's not afraid to get physical. Well it looks like my hunch was right, because she is great and I love watching her play and going to her games. She is quick and likes to play goalie. I've seen her dive for the ball once and made a great save. The kids are getting better and better each week and it's fun to watch. Did I mention Miguel got roped into being the coach! I can finally cross off that last item on my "qualities I want my husband to have" list I made when I was a teen. He had now coached little league! He's my dream come true, and he is actually enjoying it as well. 

 Miguel taught Sophia to defend and it looks like she's a basketball player when she does it. She has her arms stretched out and will not let the girls around her. She might have even pulled a few jerseys in the meantime. Whoops!

 This is coach Steve, who was kind enough to step in a help Miguel out. He know what he's doing and has a lot of soccer playing kids in his family.

 Oh yeah, did I mention that Julianne plays too!

It is halarious to watch her play. To her it is a stage performance. She gets all hyped up and celebrates when her team scores a goal and pouts really well when she gets scored on. She'll run over to the sidelines and dump water on herself, because "she is so hot." To get her in there and actually touch the ball I had to make a game up to see how many times she could touch the ball. Last game, she touched it 14 times in the second half. It seemed to work pretty good. 

 She definitely knows when the camera is on.

 Max gets in on the action too, while on the sideline!

 Nice kick Julianne!

 and again another one!

 I've finally become a soccer mom and I like it!

So here's the start of many more soccer seasons in the future! I think I've got some athletic kids.

First Day of School 2013!

Well, we are back at it again!!!

Now we've got three little girls in school and they all couldn't be more excited!

 And maybe one little boy who is going to miss them. Every time we drop them off and leave he asks "Sophia?" But he does still have Julianne in the mornings and then is spoiled plenty when Grandma and Grandpa arrive. They are amazing and we couldn't do any of this without them.

Sophia with Ms. Buchanan

 Gabriela with Ms. Rasmussen

 And Julianne with Mrs. Wolf (who Sophia had last year!) We love her.

Here's to making many new memories this year.  And away we go....

Angels, both in heaven and on earth.

Wow, well it's been way too long! I'm kind of sad it's been almost a whole year and I haven't documented it. And what a big year in our lives it has been.

I mainly want to write about my struggle with little Maximo right now. This child has a host of angels that surround him on a daily basis. If he were a cat, I think he would be out of lives by now. He is a master ESCAPE ARTIST!
Once Spring had sprung, we started letting him go outside in the backyard. We thought we had it pretty well fenced off so that he couldn't get near the pond and the river. That was until the day we lost him twice!!! We started to search and couldn't find him anywhere. After panicking and searching the front yard, down the street, and all over the back, Miguel found him crouched down by the water's edge behind some brush behind Troy's house. It was impossible to see him unless you were right on him. The river happened to be really high from spring runoff and it scared the life out of us. Once we brought him back we discovered he was stepping and smashing the chicken fence down to get over it. Grandpa initiated his obsession with the river when he would take him back to throw rocks in it.

This happened all over again earlier that morning and there were people on the other side of the river on the trail yelling at us and telling us that our child was by himself and didn't know that a baby drowned in the river last year. Do you know what feels like as a parent. We try to be so careful and cautious. We love our children more than life itself and yes, we are highly aware of the dangers of the river!

My inlaws, I'm sure think I'm negligent, but their expectations are to follow my  year old around 24/7. As a mother of 4, that is impossible, and I have other responsibilities like cleaning and caring for my home. I can not be his personal bodyguard all day long. I do everything in my power to keep him safe. I check gates, I watch him out the back windows while I'm washing my dishes. My biggest safety issues come from his older sisters, who are oblivious to the consequences that come from opening the garage doors or side gate to our yard.

So we reinforced our back fence and have no problems from our son and the river, but now he has a new fasination. It's the front yard and ROAD!!! I try to be so dilligent and check the doors and gates before I let him out to play. One day I started looking for him and as I was headed to the front yard, I heard a knock at my door and there was a lady holding his hand and telling me that she stopped her car because he was standing in the bicycle lane in the street! I had that sinking feeling again. While I was at Girls Camp, Miguel had two other experiences like this where he was escaping from the side gate. But yesterday was the worst!

The girls were begging to go to their friends house and I said yes, but please be sure to close the gate when they left. Well of course they were more worried about darting to their friends house then the gate and left it open. The girls had come home later and Max wanted to go out so I let him out into the backyard, and well you guessed it, the gate had been left open. I was talking to the girls and mentioned the gate and for them to go check. The next thing I know they come bolting in the house and I immediately knew. My heart sank and when I bolted around the house there was Max in the driveway and a UTA bus woman was stopped in front of my driveway yelling at me. "DO YOU REALIZE YOUR BABY WAS IN THE ROAD!!!!" I picked up my baby, waved, and headed inside. That's when I lost it.

How? I was grateful to heaven for watching over my son. And whoever the angels are that watch over him. I don't know how one child can cheat death so much. I should be grateful to all of the earthly angels that save him each time. I feel like an awful parent. I started to break down and let my mind go down that scary road. I unleashed on the girls and then began to imagine my life without my baby boy. It was awful. I questioned whether or not I could look at my girls again if they were the ones to led to his death. (in hindsight, I know I take just as much of the blame, but there have been many times where I lock the gate and they go out to the front without letting my know. So I think it's safe when in reality it's not.) I bawled. I felt helpless and not in control. How could this keep happening to us?!

So this morning, I double checked the side gate and garage door before letting him play outside. You have to realize that that is where my child wants to be. He wants to play outside all day. I let him out for a few minutes while I made him second helpings of breakfast. I was at the kitchen table with Gabriela while she ate breakfast and I knew Sophia and Julianne were downstairs watching a video. I hadn't heard from him in a while and I knew his food was ready to be eaten, so I looked in the yard and he wasn't there. I figured he must have come in without me seeing him and was downstairs with the girls. Then comes that familiar knock on my front door. I went to see and when I rounded the corner, my heart sank, because the front door was open. Some saintly woman was  holding Max and said she saw him next door at Troy's amid the construction mess that is going on over there. I sort of mentally shut down at that point to numb my disbelief. I thanked her so much and shut and locked the front door. Again the question of how? I knew what had happened but amid all of the prayers that I have been sending up to my Heavenly Father, I wondered how this could happen again.

Miguel likes to leave the windows and doors open in the morning to air out the house and because I 'm not the one who does it, I don't think to go back and check that. The front door must have been cracked, otherwise I would have noticed it hanging wide open. Apparently Max discovered it and walked out the front door, while I was making his oatmeal.

It's time I changed my prayers. I keep praying for the Lord to watch over him and bless him with angels to watch over him, because he is outsmarting, and outwitting me on a daily basis. The Lord has blessed him, and I have been fed a big dose of humble pie. Thanks to any and all who help save my little boy. I am on high alert, but if you live in my neighborhood and happen to spot my son in my front yard, just know that you are an angel sent to spare his life. Don't judge me! I'm doing the best I can and apparently I need a village to raise my son. I just feel like my luck is going to run out soon. I can't even described the feelings that my heart holds. I really hope and pray this phase goes away quickly.