Grace the Fish

Grace had her first adventure in a swimming pool today. I was somewhat skeptical about her enjoying the experience very much. The water was freezing cold (Spencer and I had to ease ourselves in very slowly) and Grace isn't the...bravest of babies. :) I figured she'd scream and protest at first and then gradually decide that water was okay. This is how she seems to react with all things new. However, something about being here in Illinois has turned her into a little daredevil. When we put her in, she started a bit, but then was perfectly content to float around--in water that even Spencer and I were hesitant to be in! It was really quite adorable. She was so happy! By the end, she was leaning back against the floaty relaxing and soaking in the sun. Apparently, there will be a lot of swimming in our future. :)

The complex that we live in has a pool, so that's where we were.

It was Grace's little friend Beau's first experience in a swimming pool as well, but he didn't like it as much. Grace kept trying to assure him that it was okay, but he didn't trust her.

Pre-swimming pump up.

Nauvoo Trip

Nauvoo is such a perfect place to spend Memorial Day. For me, Nauvoo is all about remembering. Remembering to be grateful for all of the wonderful advances technology has brought us (hooray for no longer traveling across the country by covered wagon!), remembering the beauty of the earth and a simple lifestyle, and most of all, remembering the sacrifices of the early members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. What a hard thing it must have been to leave such a beautiful city and existence for a future of relative uncertainty.

As Spencer and I prepared to move and sell our home, I felt a strange connection with the early saints. Obviously, I was not leaving my home under even remotely similar circumstances. No one forced us to leave. It was a choice we made of our own accord. And their journey across those same plains and mountains that we crossed stretched on for months and months and included terrible heartache and suffering. Ours took a whopping 24 hours, most of which were spent watching a plethora of redbox movies we rented before leaving. Now, listening to Grace scream and protest for the last two hours of the trip felt like terrible suffering at the time, but obviously can't even compare to what so many of the saints went through.

But all the same, I wondered if some of the emotions I was feeling were similar to theirs. Spencer and I spent a mere 9 months in our home. A home that we (along with the help of so many friends and family members) worked so hard to get and had planned on inhabiting for quite some time. It was beautiful to us. Our first real home together and the first place that we could paint, decorate, and mold to fit who we were. We spent many a Saturday mowing, watering, weeding, pruning and raking. And this doesn't include all the time we spent sanding and refinishing the wood floors, fixing various aspects of the houses physique, and painting the walls. In the end, I had a finished kitchen floor for only about 3 days before we had to leave. And then there's the whole issue of leaving the only state Spencer and I had ever known as home with all of its mountainous splendor. And don't even get me started about having to leave all of our family.

But I digress. The point of all this is to say that I can understand now what it must have been like for them (in some small degree) to leave behind such a wonderful place after such a short time and so unexpectedly. It's not easy. What faith they had. We, at least, knew that there was a place to live and a livelihood of some persuasion waiting for us. We also knew that really, no matter how far we wandered, home would always be just a plane ride (or a very long, but wholly doable car ride) away. What assurances did they have? All they knew was that Joseph Smith, as a young boy, had seen God and his Son, Jesus Christ. And nothing else mattered. That was enough. I stand all amazed.

The house we stayed in for the weekend

The Carthage grass war with Grace's new buddy, Beau

Grace at Carthage

The Linx Wives

The Linx guys

Becoming Midwesterners

So, here we are, living in Illinois and adjusting to life in the midwest.  It's been strange how easy it's been to switch gears into my new reality.  Sometimes I feel as if Spencer and I never lived in Provo, but have always been residents of Illinois.  Everything about our life before seems so distant.  And, obviously, it is (literally), but we've only been out here for a few weeks!  I guess, honestly, when you're home full-time with a baby, it doesn't much matter where you live.  Life goes on pretty much the same as it did before.  And I don't mean this negatively, I just mean that's how I feel.  I can feed, change, bathe, cuddle, and put Grace to sleep no matter where I am.  The routine remains constant whether I be in Utah or Illinois.  I guess, in that way, having a baby with me has made it easier for me to adjust.  My purpose and basic life outline haven't changed much.  I just do it amidst humidity.  :)

I think Spencer's life has changed much more than mine.  A salesman's life and hours are not exactly what you'd call ideal.  But, it really hasn't been as bad as I would have thought.  I guess I can only speak for myself, though.  Spencer may think differently.  :) From my point of view, I get to see Spencer more than before--it's just at different times.  Spencer is home with me for pretty much the entire morning and lunch.  He sees Grace more than he ever did before, minus the fact that he works on Saturdays.  With his previous job and school schedule, on a good day, he only saw Grace for about 2 hours.  More often than not, it was more like an hour and a half to one hour.  She just goes to bed so darn early!  Now, his Grace time has doubled if not tripled.  I love that.  

Plus, since moving to Illinois, we have become a two tennis racket family.  We may never make it to being a two car family, but at least we are covered as far as tennis rackets are concerned. :) Meaning, Spencer and I have already spent many a morning out playing tennis together.  When Spencer is feeling especially amiable, he is willing to go jogging with me as well.  This would never have been an option with his old job.     

So, with the difficult, there comes a lot of good.  Spencer doesn't get home until late every night (minus Saturdays), but there are things to make up for that.  And he's been doing really well selling, so hopefully our crazy plan will work out after all.  

I think that, besides family and friends, the thing I miss the most is my home.  It hasn't been easy to go back to renting, but Spencer and I do feel that this sacrifice will be worth it.  I loved our house so much and Spencer and I put so much of ourselves into it.  We joke that we took about as many pictures of our house and yard before we left as we have of Grace since she was born.  This isn't exactly true, but you get the idea.  We loved that house. :) It hurts to think about it and realize that we're not there to take care of it.  I think often about the grass, the flowers and the cherry tree.  I never thought I could get quite so worked up about a bunch of plants and bricks.  But it was ours.  And it meant so much to us.  But there will be others.  :)  And we're so happy about it's new family.  We give them to our house highly recommended. 

But there is so much to love about Illinois.  We live within 5 minutes of the Mississippi and there is a lovely little jogging trail that curves along it.  And there are bunnies, squirrels, and ground hogs everywhere.  They just hang out in plain sight!  Love that.  Not to mention it's nice and green here and the people are really friendly.  Plus, we get to have missionaries over for dinner!  Hooray!  Not so much an option in Provo.  And...we once again live within walking distance of a library.  :)  I couldn't be happier.  Oh, and one more thing: when you live in an apartment building, you can do more than one load of laundry at a time.  That can make it all worth it.  :)   

So, goodbye Utah.  Hello midwest.  And now...the above information in picture form. :)

Some of the many wonderful people we will always remember:

Snapshots of the house and  yard we will greatly miss:

And last but not least, a shot from our drive out to the midwest:

Grace was more than willing to do her share of the driving.  :)

The Kite Runners

For my first official Mother's Day, Spencer surprised me with a lovely pair of genuine, hand-crafted WalMart kites. :0)  I was so excited!  Kite flying is something that has always held such wonderful appeal for me.  It  seems such a romantic pastime.  I believe that if there are still people in this world who spend windy afternoons flying kites, then all is well.  

Spencer has mentioned to me many a time (and quite nostalgically) his kite flying experiences as a child.  He describes himself lying on a blanket with his brother and dad, relaxing and watching their kite fly higher and higher into the blue.  So, I, of course, had already decided to get Spencer a nice kite for his birthday. And he, of course, beat me to it.  Spencer is the murderer of birthday surprises.  :0)  But, at least this way he got to pick the kites out and I didn't accidentally buy the cheap kind that doesn't work--which I am always apt to do.  

At any rate, we took our kites on their maiden voyage that very day and had a lovely time.  Grace, turns out, is an amazing kite-ist.          

First, Spencer taught her the ins and outs of being a chill kite flyer.  She listened and studied attentively.

Then came the legendary hand-off.

Grace got it down to a science.

And soon, she discovered that kites were not only good for flying, but for eating, as well.

She found the whole thing so easy, she decided to lay down for a bit and rest (notice the kite continues to fly with ease, as is evidenced by the string still held taut).

Spencer was pretty good, too (as seen with the more advanced, but slightly less restful, two-handed kite!).

And now, a shot of the happily soaring turtle kite.

All in all, the afternoon was a big success.  As was Mother's Day.

P.S.  This blog steals its title from the book, "The Kite Runner," which I highly recommend.  It got me interested in all things kite and Afghanistan.  For those who have read it, Spencer and I took turns being each other's "kite runner."  I loved it.

An overabundance of blogging ideas...

I finally seem to have developed a taste for blogging.  And it all came because, for once, I couldn't blog when I actually wanted to.   It's funny how I tend to not miss things until they're gone.  Ever since Spencer and I moved to Moline, IL., I have spent many a moment fantasizing about all of the amazing blog posts I would create about our adventures once we finally got the internet for REAL in our apartment (sneakily stealing it from other unsuspecting people's unsecured wireless routers does NOT count, though it does seem a cheaper alternative...).  At any rate, I am so excited!  So, here it goes.        

"Snowed-in" in mid-April?

This is why we prune our trees, prune our trees, prune our trees; 

this is why we prune our trees, so we can get out of the garage.

Stupid snow.

Our poor little tulips.  You can do it guys!  Rise above the ridiculous weather! 

Violated

About two weeks ago, Spencer and I discovered a very unwelcome little furry visitor in our home.  Actually, I discovered it.  I was happily sitting at the computer wasting time when I noticed a little, gray streak dart out from our fireplace and head for the hallway.  I, of course, shrieked and jumped up on the couch.  I couldn't believe it!  A mouse!  In MY house!  The house that I had spent so much more time cleaning then any other place Spencer and I had lived in.  A house which, I believed, did not deserve to have a disgusting, loathsome mouse as an intruder.  I know the deserve comment is silly and that having a mouse is not a punishment for some strange cleaning crime (or maybe it IS...), but I felt like it was.  I instantly saw the arrival of this mouse as a painful rebuke of my housewifely cleaning prowess.  I felt violated.  I felt our house was violated.  And I decided right then and there that either the mouse was out, or I was.

Ironically enough, earlier that very same day, my visiting teacher had mentioned having seen a mouse in the living room back when this house was occupied by the previous owners.  I laughed at her comment (and secretly felt grossed out and disgusted) and assured her that we had never seen any evidence of that kind and weren't worried about it at all.  Little did WE know...

After the first sighting, Spencer jumped into action to preserve my sanity and keep me from putting the house up for sale that very moment on ksl.com.  He rigged up a make shift mouse trap using some lettuce, cheese, a garbage can, and some string.  He set it up in front of the offending closet where we were sure the mouse was hiding and scheming and then lay waiting.  His job was to pull the string when said mouse appeared and tried to eat the bait; mine was to lull the mouse out of the closet.  I failed, he failed, and the trap failed.  The mouse had vanished.

Having lost the mouse, we began searching for its secret lair of filth.  Once found, we ammonia-ed everything he could have possibly dragged his nasty paws across and filled in all mouse-shaped holes within and without the house with caulk.  But I still felt violated.  I went to bed having no doubt that the mouse would be running all over the house triumphantly while we were sleeping.  Stupid mouse.

The next day, Grace and I took many, many walks.  I was willing to do ANYTHING to get out of the house and avoid the constant feeling of imaginary scampering paws across my feet and legs.  I still naively hoped that the mouse had left the house while we were on our mouse hunt and was currently unsuccessfully trying to get back in through his now caulked entrance holes.  But, nevertheless, I wasn't taking any chances of a meeting.

Later that night, Spencer and I were sitting on the couch and mouse sighting number two occurred.  This time by Spencer.  I sent him straight to the store to buy a real mousetrap.  I stayed on the couch the whole time he was gone and avoided allowing any part of me touch the mouse-infected ground.  As soon as Spencer got home, he set up the mouse trap and we began our vigil.  I, for one, was NOT sleeping until the mouse was gone!  

It was then that we met our little intruder on a more personal basis.  Mere minutes after the trap was set up, the mouse came out and started sniffing around.  It was baited with peanut butter and the little guy apparently could not resist.  We decided he was either desperately hungry or incredibly stupid.  Or both.  We sat there watching as he inspected the trap and naively decided it was safe to enter.  He crawled into the back and we waited anxiously for the little trap door to shut and lock him in.  Nothing.  The mouse was in there happily and freely enjoying a free meal of peanut butter.  Argh!  

We discovered the problem, fixed it, and again began our vigil.  Only five minutes later, the mouse appeared again and wandered hungrily into his peanut butter lined heaven.  And...snap!  One very humanely captured little mouse!  Spencer then took the trap and let Mr. Mouse out of it a few blocks away from our house, with a promise that he would never return or tell ANY of his friends about our house.  :0)    

We set the trap up in various places throughout the house to catch any relatives or friends that had snuck in previously and have discovered none.  Turns out, our little mouse was a loner.  A rogue mouse.  

It's funny how after the mouse was caught and banished I began feeling sentimental towards him.  I told Spencer what a cute little mouse he had been and that, maybe, had he agreed to pay a little rent (plus utilities of course...), he could have stayed on with the girls downstairs.  :0)  I blame Disney.

Mice are gross.  End of story.