Poor John!

As I am working out in the yard preparing my soil for spring, my neighbor approaches me for a little chat. The conversation goes a little something like this: Bob- "Would you like me to prune your roses for you?" (I have already pruned my roses) Me- "No thank you I have already pruned them" Bob- "well your supposed to cut them down to 18 inches" (are you kidding me) Me- "This year I am growing rose trees, I want them to be as tall as I am" (Pause) Bob- "Poor John" (I can see exactly where he is going with this) Me- "Poor John he had to marry an ambitious woman?" Bob- "Poor John must never get a moments rest" (if he only knew) Me- "Ha Ha Ha." At this point I think I walked away. If he only knew the half of it, my family has been saying poor John since we were in High School. Poor John's wife bought a house while he was out of town and he had never seen it before, Poor John's wife painted the kitchen green and her bedroom blue while he was out of town on a business trip, Poor John's wife started stripping and refinishing the kitchen cabinets while he was gone only to have him return and help, Poor John's wife bought a dog one day without consulting him just because she wanted one, Poor John's wife can't sit still for 5 seconds, but do you know what? Poor John loves his wife just as crazy as she is. Sorry neighbor, but John knew what he was getting into when he married me, (I am Pete Pearson's daughter and Wilma Bliss' grandaughter, what did you expect) and sometimes I think Poor John myself, but if you asked Poor John about it, he would tell you he wouldn't have it any other way. So no more time to chat, I have a husband to go work to death ;)

Gained, Lost, and Learned

O.K., I know you are sick to death of hearing me talk about "Marathon this" and "Marathon that", but I have just one more thing to share, and then I promise I will stop (unless you are also a runner who likes to blab about running). So, while I have trained long and hard for this past Marathon I have also done a lot of soul searching and pondering. I first thought about what I have lost training for and running the marathon the list includes: 1. Two perfectly good toe nails, 2. About 25 pds. (no complaints there), 3. Feelings of Self-Consciousness (people seeing me in spandex biker shorts and a jiggly buttocks), 4. Hours of my time on Saturday's, 5. Minutes of my time during the week, 6. Skin off my feet, under my boobs, and around my belly button (sorry TMI). I then thought about what I have gained from training for and running the Marathon: 1. Confidence (I can I will), 2. Determination (a desire to succeed), 3. Dedication (I did not miss 1 single training or cross training day for the entire 18 weeks), 4. Perseverence (when the going gets tough, the tough get going), 5. A stronger healthier body, 6. A closer relationship with my family (it involved John and Adessa on Saturday's bringing Gatorade and cheering me through the long runs), 7. A greater dependance on my Heavenly Father, 8. A clearer mind, 9. A sense of accomplishment, 10. A greater knowledge of who I am. As you can see, I gained far more than I lost, but what did I learn? I learned that slow and steady wins the race, not just running, but in life in general. If you are constant and steady than you will benefit more than those who have moments of being zealous and then losing their zeal. I learned that it pays to train and prepare yourself. If we prepare ourselves for the things we want be it gospel, education, athletics, family, whatever, but if we prepare ourselves properly we will be successful. While I was running I passed at least 200 people, but it wasn't until around mile 13-14. Why? Because they started too fast, they didn't pace themselves, they hadn't trained and prepared, they became too competetive, they didn't have the right clothing, they hadn't eaten or drank enough. There were a whole myriad of reasons I passed them, but they all came back to being prepared. I kept saying to myself each time I passed someone "slow and steady Ash." Some of the people I passed looked like they were going to die and others looked like they didn't really care so much about finishing and feeling good. When I finished I felt great. The pictures I have posted are all from mile 22 on, and I don't look like I am going to die. I have taken this experience and applied it to my life. Let's pace ourselves, we don't have to have everything right now, slow and steady. We don't have to have booming careers, big fancy houses, perfect families and bodies and church callings, slow and steady. If we apply this principle of slow and steady in our lives we will be preparing ourselves with the proper equipment to make it to the end of this race of life and when we finish we'll feel good, because we have trained ourselves properly. This I firmly believe and have witnessed with my own two eyes while running the Marathon. If you have any desire to run a Marathon I strongly suggest it. I used Hal Higdons novice 1 training guide. You can find it at www.halhigdon.com O.K., now I will stop blabbing until my next Marathon, which John says I am first going to bear him another child. We all know this isn't so easy for me to do, but hey, slow and steady right! Happy running to all.

Fuchsia Bling Bling

Maren sent me a Marathon "Good Luck" package from TX which included a lovely pedicure set, pink gum, foot lotion, and last but not least the nail polish I am sporting on my fingers, "Fuchsia Bling Bling" so bought for its name. I wanted to wear it while I ran the Marathon so when discouraged I could look down and remember all of the love and support I have received from family and friends. I think I stared at my nails from mile 22-26, that's when things got tough, but, "when the going gets tough, the tough get going" right? In truth, the Marathon went great I didn't even cry when I finished (what? shock and horror) I was relieved and wanted the numbness to leave my legs and right foot. I was hoping for a 4:22:00 Marathon and I ran it in 4:18:01. That's right I was 4 minutes fast I averaged a 9:50 something mile rather than my typical 10:00 long run mile. So hooray it is finished and I had a blast. Thanks eveyone for your love and support I really appreciate it. Pictures of the actual Marathon are yet to come, my brother is holding them hostage in exchange for Christmas ones I have for him (diabolical).

Aaaagh!!!!

At 8:00 this morning I received a phone call from my neighbor Paul, "Did you know that your water is on?" Aaaagh, what? My water is on (of course John is out of town this week). 2 minutes later, the phone rings it is my neighbor Chris, "Hey, did you know your water is on?" I love my neighbors. "Yep, I know my water is on, Paul just called, thanks." So I headed outside in my jammies to find that all of my water was on, the sprinklers were blasted, the faucets were pouring, and my filter box was bubbling over with muddy water. It's a good thing I have been training because I had to race to keep my yard from flooding. I ran to the back yard first and shut everything off and then headed to turn off the front. I was able to shut off everything but the filter. For those who don't reside in Bountiful, we have Weber water which is like irrigation water, you can't drink it, and it is filled with seeds and rocks and worms. So I took off my jacket and reached down into the bubbling box of filth. I felt the lever and tried giving it a pull, unsuccessful. I warmed my arm for a second as the water was freezing. 2nd try, the arm goes in, searches through the water for the valve, reaches, grabs, contact is made with not a valve but something slimey? Naturally, I jerked my arm out of the water setting some kind of a record for rapid arm movement. What was it? All I could picture was some kind of giant slug or maybe a water snake. I finally decided that I am just schizo and it was nothing at all. So what do I do? I go next door and get Bob, he saves the day, and turns off the water main for me. Whew, what would I do without neighbors? A few hours later when I went to check the mail I noticed that the water had finally drained from the filter box. I peeked in side to make sure there wasn't a giant slug and I was just schizo, when what to my wondering eyes should appear? A fish. I saw a fish or wait no, this fish has feet, what kind of fish have feet? Is it a salamander? What are those worms doing on it, oh they're not worms, those are just its intestines. Yes, I found a creature. It came through the filter and out the hose. I think it is a salamander, not sure, but I do know I touched the slimey thing, and I am not schizo after all. My hand can still feel the slimey feeling it felt when reaching for the valve, I am still dry heaving a little. If you have ever seen a salamander and this is what they look like let me know, or you can check out my side walk, I have left it there to scare the milk man when he comes. Ha ha ha...

Oh the Shame!

Back when I was teaching the 3 and 4yr. old classes at my mom's studio I had the funniest experiences. I love the honesty that children possess. At the start of class we would sit in a circle and the kids could each share one thing that had happened that week, with the class. I am certain that the parents would die if they knew some of the things the kids decided to share in class. Deep dark family secrets would be revealed along with information that would make even made me blush a time or two. I felt so embarrassed for those parents. Years have passed and a lot has changed since then. I am on the other side of the fence, Adessa is sharing the deep dark family secrets and I can't do anything about it. every Thursday during the winter I have taken Adessa to McDonalds to get out of the house, have social interactions, and get some exercise. She loves Donalds as she calls it. About 4 weeks ago, we had spent hours at Donalds and it was time to go. I had asked Adessa to come to me 3x only to have her run up into the tube. On the 4th time I chased her down and grabbed her by the arm. "Pop" was the sound I heard and definitely the same feeling I felt. Her arm went limp. She screamed and started to cry, I panicked. I started to bawl, threw her into the car, raced off to kids care. The Doctor was great, he said it was nurse maids elbow, and turned her arm over and popped it back into place. Because Adessa is double jointed, she will be more pre-disposed to having dislocations. I thought I was more traumatized by this experience until Adessa started relaying the incident to random strangers. Everything from "at Donalds, mom grabbed my arm and pulled, I cried the doctor fixed it". Oh the shame!!! Yep, there is no pride in motherhood. Moral of the story, be careful of what you say when you have a 3 or 4yr. old and be careful of what you do to your 2 1/2 yr. old at McDonalds, they won't forget.

Picnik

Thank you Motherboard! John's cousin Motherboard (yes, this is an alias. He doesn't really have a cousin named Motherboard) posted this super cool photoshop-esque website information on her blog. This super cool site allows you to do a whole plethera of photo cropping, coloring, editing, ect... I am insanely, crazy, obsessed with this site. The cool part is you can edit and save to your computer and then burn them to a CD to have the pictures developed. I haven't had any developed or printed I guess you would say yet, but I intend to. I literally have spent a good part of a couple days playing around with some of my photos. I have posted a few things I have done. I say check it out and let me know wat you think. The site is free. www.picnik.com

In My Daughters Eyes

I hung up my performing shoes when I started teaching dance. I figured I had my opportunity to enjoy performing, and now it was my turn to enjoy watching my students perform. The Junior High kids used to beg me to perform with them in the concerts. Naturally, I would decline. There is nothing worse than watching an OLD teacher shake their thang with their YOUNG students. I never wanted to be that teacher who wasn't so young anymore pretending to be, plus, I guarantee that the audience would be watching me not the students (morbid curiosity). The students deserve the attention, not me. For Shellies 40th anniversary of "Shellies School of Dance" she decided that she wanted to do a mother daughter dance to "In My Daughters Eyes" by Martina McBride. The mother daughter dance would include Shellie, her daughter (me), and my daughter (Adessa) as well as, all her teachers and their daughters. I think there are 22 of us in total in this years director's piece. My initial reaction was HECK NO! But for my mom, I would do anything, including wear tight coral pink velvet on stage in front of 1,000 + people. Lucky me. When I first heard the song I started bawling. I cried, sobbed, and sniffled through the entire thing. The song is beautiful, touching, inspiring. It has made me think about what my daughter will admire about me if anything at all, maybe she'll dye her hair black, pierce parts of her body, and hate me for making her wear bows when she was little, who knows. It did however, make me think about the kind of woman my mother is, and the kind of woman I want my Adessa to think I am. On Saturday we had our first rehearsal with the teachers where I taught them 32 counts of choreography for the piece. I was so comforted when half the teachers bawled through the dancing as well. The dance will be lovely, a once in a life time opportunity for myself and Adessa to have 3 maybe 4 generations on stage all together. The teachers at Shellie's aren't my co-workers, they are my friends, my family. I love and admire them, and mostly I love and admire Shellie herself. If you get a chance to listen to the song it is #1 on my playlist on the blog, I guarentee you will either think of yourself, your daughter, or your mother, and maybe you'll even think of me in tight coral velvet dancewear (sorry about that one). If you are a Shellie's alumni reading this, let me know and I will give Shellie your information so that she can send you an invite to the Alumni open house. Happy crying!

Reparations

I have always been an advocate of women's rights. My favorite class in college (as it pertained to my Minor) was Women in European History. I believe that you don't make many friends by discussing politics so I won't get into my personal views on our presidential candidates, but I will express my feelings on an incident recently brought out in the media. Many of you may have seen the video clip of Obama's minister talking about racist white America (which I do believe exists in places) however, I don't think he communicated his message in an appropriate manner. I understand that discrimination has existed since the beginning of time, it is horrible, and should not exist. I can't think of a race of people or religious group that has not experienced some form of discrimination. Christians during the rule of Roman Emperors, Jews since almost the beginning of time heightened by the Holocost, Irish and Chinese emigrants given the most fatal jobs in the American mining and railroad industry, African slavery in Africa as well as in the United States and Europe, Native Americans driven off their land, I mean the list could go on and on. I however, would like to discuss the oldest and in some places still the most discriminated group of people since the earth began. Women! Yes, it is true, we as women are the oldest fall guys in history. From the time that Eve handed Adam the fruit we have been blamed, mocked, defiled, burned at the stake, tortured, and used. Aristotle describes women as "a deformed male" he then proceeds to state the reason women are a deformed male is, "The menstrual discharge is semen, though in an impure condition; i.e. it lacks one constituent, and one only, the principle of Soul." Now we are also Souless. Galen states that, "just as mankind is the most perfect of all the animals, man is more perfect than women, and the reason for his perfection is his excess of heat, for heat is Nature's primary instrument." That's right, we are less perfect because we are colder. He then proceeds to claim that men have heat so their reproductive parts protrude, we are cold so ours are inside. He compares the ovaries to inverted testes. Albert the Great claims that, "any woman might be venemous during menstruation (John would agree), but in a woman menstruating irregularly or in an older woman whose menstrual system was deteriorating, baneful fluids seeking an outlet could be transmitted through the eyes and could poison small infants." Wow, now we can poison small infants with our eyes, who could have thunk it. It only gets worse when we get to the Church Fathers, St. Jerome says, "For that man is lost as soon as he desires your beauty, and he has committed already in his mind what he desired and you have become his sword, so that, although the sin may not be yours, you may not be free from hatred." Now we lack Soul, we are cold, we can poison small children, and we are to be blamed for mens creepy thoughts based on our attractive features. Hmmmm. I especially love this part that St. Jerome says, "It is better to dwell in the corner of the housetop, than with a contentious woman in a shared house." "She floods his house with her constant nagging and daily chatter, and ousts him from his own home, that is the church." O.K. so maybe I can't completely argue that one. The opinions of women at this time of Aristotle in 383-322 B.C. don't change for thousands of years. During the witch hunt in early modern Europe a majority of the people killed and tortured were women. In the 16th and 17th centuries 75 to 90% of all people accused of witchcraft and killed were women. In the book "The Malleus Maleficarum" (aka the hammer of witches), they explain the reason why so many women were witches, "women were intellectually inferior and superstitious, but also to their sexual passion", and concludes that "all withchcraft comes from carnal lust, which is in women insatiable." Yeah, that sounds just like all the women I know. Women of course made pacts with the devil, since Eve had sinned we are all predisposed to being disobedient and therefore we are evil and were burned. I don't want to get into the forms of torture, (although they are way cool) but really, to be blamed for the popular belief of "Eve's choice" for thousands of years is crazy. I could go on and on for pages about this topic, but I won't. What I would like to say is, if anybody has a right to be complaining it is women. It wasn't but a hundred years ago that we were finally given a voice, and in addition to this, I want my check in the mail. That's right I want reparations, maybe scholarships for my children, or even just my daughters since it was their distant female relatives burning on the stake. I think it's the least they could do. So, next time someone wants to talk about discrimination I'll empathize, but let's go back to the beginning and recognize that discrimination comes in all forms, shapes, colors, sizes, genders, and has no address. Whew, that was heavy Doc. On a lighter note isn't it amazing how the programs of the church promote and sustain women. I love that we are built up, recognized, and honored. Hooray for the gospel and the Churches understanding of the sacred nature of women. We rock ladies!

Cousins Day!

We are so excited to have had Aunty Crazy and Uncle Alan come visit us from NM! We had to celebrate the occasion with lots of eating, soda sipping, pinochle playing, and the grande finale' a McDonalds play date.

Adessa

Baby Maidie

Luke

Talmage and Eric the Red

Claire

Claire, Talmage, Eric, Adessa, andLuke

Claire (18 months) and Luke (4 1/2) belong to my sister, and Talmage (6 1/2), Eric (3), and Maidie (4 weeks) belong to my brother. It is funny to me how similar and different they all look. Claire looks like my sisters mother-in-law and Luke looks like her father-in-law. Talmage looks like my sister-in-law and Eric looks like my brother. Baby Maidie is 4 weeks old and looks like a newborn. Adessa (2 1/2) is 100% John and his mother Nana Sue. I am wondering if God chooses to bless me with another, if it will look like me, we'll see. I will confess that John's mother and father are exceptionally good looking, and my folks aren't too shabby either. My mom is very dark and my dad is the fair haired poster child for Sweden. I figured when I married John that my folks weren't too bad and his were pretty good so our children couldn't turn out to be monsterous looking. Honestly, I think all kids are cute, so I guess it really doesn't matter until puberty hits and they all start to look like aliens anyway.

You Vote

Giantess, Amazon, Virago?

OR

Dwarf, Gnome, Munchkin?

Last summer my mom and I went to a "Tremaine" dance convention in Orlando. We of course had a blast and for those of you who are into "So You Think You Can Dance" I met Dan Caraty. I wasn't real jazzed about meeting him since he has never been a favorite of mine, but I figured I might as well have my picture taken with him since we are here together. Like a normal human being I stood next to him and smiled for the picture thinking nothing of it. It wasn't until we had returned home and had the pictures of our trip developed that I saw our picture together. My mom and I laughed, belly laughter, tears streaming, hardly breathing, rolling on the floor laughter. Why you may ask, (for those of you who even glanced at the picture may have noticed) I look like I could cradle him, feed him, burp him, and lay him in a crib. Either he is tiny or I am huge. I have always known male dancers to be of a smaller gene, but I never realized just how small. My face is double his and my bosoms go to his nose. So here is my question, Giantess, Amazon, Virago? OR Dwarf, Gnome, Munchkin? You vote!

Well Pin A Rose On Your Nose

One of my greatest strengths/weaknesses is my so called honest and rather sarcastic nature. I believe this to be a strength because I am pretty much what you see, and yet it is a weakness because I am the queen of TMI. John has recently asked me to keep him out of my blogging discussions. So what does that mean? Blog about him. This post is dedicated to John! Here comes the TMI, and hopefully I don't embarrass him too badly. John and I have a long history together first as friends, and then as a couple. We met when we were juniors in high school, he was 6 foot 1, shaggy brown hair, and weighed 145 pounds. I could have picked him up and twirled him in my arms if I had wanted to. He was the nicest guy, a little shy, very artistic, earthy, outdoorsy, not such a student, and a long shot from a religious scholar. We used to go to temple square and look at the pictures in the visitor center our senior year in high school for fun and the boy couldn't tell me what a single one of the scripture murals was about. He wasn't certain about a mission and technically speaking graduated high shool by the skin of his teeth, much to my nagging ( I wasn't about to date a drop out)! By the end of John's senior year he had determined to serve a mission; this is where the change began. I went away to college and about 4 months later, John left for the Indianapolis Indiana mission. I have never seen or heard of anyone thriving more on a mission than John. He was mentored by an amazing mission president who taught him the sacred nature of the Priesthood, he fell in love with the words of the gospel, he learned to study, to pray, to lead. He served in various leadership positions on his mission which taught him to become confident and assertive. He learned to love his Father in Heaven and developed an undeniable testimony of the gospel. He was a changed man when he returned. I didn't really know the John that I saw 2yrs. later, but I was thrilled that he had become the man that he was lacking before. I share this brief historical account of John for the purpose of showing you how the gospel can change many aspects of a persons life. My darling John the very man I just told you had barely graduated high school just graduated from California State University with a Masters Degree in Business Administration. Not only did he graduate, but he graduated with a 3.92 GPA in the top 20% of his class in the Delta Mu Delta national Business Administration honor society. He is graduating with honors in May and we are all going to California to celebrate his success. He is a gospel scholar and knows almost everything you could ever think of about the gospel. He has read every book and every article ever written about the gospel, he is a member of FARMS and spends his time explaining to a half listening half interested wife what he has just learned about whatever recent gospel topic he is studying. The gangly youth that I fell in love with skiing, rollerblading, mountain biking, and listening to Dave Mathews Band for countless hours while helping me study my AP American History is now a man. He is not just a man he is a strong, worthy, loving, doting, hardworking, ambitious, honest, and good; son, brother, father, husband, and friend. John never once complained about serving in the church while travelling for work, getting his MBA, helping around the home, and being the rock of his family. We hardly ever have time to rollerblade together anymore, our mountain biking days have passed, we still listen to Dave for hours, but the things we spend our time doing together are of far greater importance. I tease him incessantly about any and everything, it is a genetic flaw, but I love him even more. He is my rock, he keeps me grounded, without him I would float off into a hot pink, shiny, furry, rhinestone studded universe. The gospel changes us, refines us, and helps us to become what our Heavenly Father has intended for us to become. I have seen it happen right before my eyes and in my own life. John is truth and righteousness and I love him. So I know, I know, you are thinking to yourself, "well pin a rose on your nose", and you know what, I think I will.

Tagged

My cousin Angela tagged me a while ago and I just realized that I could cut and paste the questions (I know you are thinking duh idiot) so, since I don't have to re-type the questions I decided to go through with my tagging (yo yo homie homey homme?).

#1. How long have you been together? We have been married for 8yrs. of pure bliss.
#2. How long did you date? We dated for 1yr. he went on his mission and we corresponded for most of the time and then we dated for a year after, so 2yrs. dating and 2yrs. corresponding.

#3.How old is he? 29 going on 30, woo hoo!
#4. Who eats more? Well, that is a good question, he can out eat me on steaks but I have him whooped on desserts.
#5. Who said I Love You First? John of course, I am super weird about PDA and the vulnerability of expressing genuine feelings.
#6. Who is taller? John.
#7. Who sings better? Thats easy since dying dogs sing better than myself, Umm, that would be John.
#8. Who is smarter? John, is smarter, but I am more clever.
#9. Who does the laundry? I do the laundry, but he irons whatever he wants wrinkle free, and he puts his own clothes away, I'm his wife not his mother/indentured servant.
#10. Who does the dishes? John most of the time.
#11. Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? John does, I sleep closest to the door so that I can protect him in case of a home invasion.
#12. Who pays the bills? We have always divided the bills as we each have our own bank accounts, crazy I know. Now that I no longer work, John is paying all the bills (ha sucker).
#13. Who mows the lawn? I do much to John's embarrassment. I love being outdoors and I am so anal that I like the lawn mowed a certain way. I even know how to edge, and use the blower. Let's hear a whoop whoop for power tools.
#14. Who cooks dinner? John does most of the time (I know, talk about role reversal, I'm mowing the lawn while he makes dinner. Whatever works right).
#15. Who is more stubborn? Me, and stubborn is an understatement.
#16. Who kissed who first? John of course, I won't get into the dirty details, but when it came to guys I was way old fashioned.
#17. Who asked who out? John didn't just ask me out the guy tracked me down like a hunter.

#18. Who proposed? John did, we planted a tree in rattlesnake canyon after burning out the engine in my car on our way home from Cedar City where we were going to college.
#19. Who is more sensitive? I cried in the "Little Mermaid", enough said.
#20. Who has more friends? Me, I am a people person and John pretty much only cares about me and Adessa, he likes people, but we are where he wants to spend his free time.
#21. Who has more siblings? John does, he has 3 older sisters and 1 younger brother.

Tagging complete! My turn to tag now. I tag Motherboard, Carrie, Sarah, and Maren. I won't flip if you don't follow through (you can however, cut and paste).