Training

Runners train for marathons. Swimmers train for races. Gymnasts, cyclists, and archers all spend months training their bodies for competition.

It turns out I've been training too.

We've been preparing to move for weeks. The house (and our possessions) have been deep cleaned and dejunked, several times. Our mountain of laundry was clean and, thanks to a good friend who came over to lend a hand on Tuesday, was sorted and nearly all folded. The kids suitcases were packed. I felt more ready than I have in previous moves.

But on Tuesday night, we still had so many tasks to finish. Bryan is working this whole week, so I knew he needed to be rested enough to make his three-hour round trip commute. But I didn't need that. I could even possibly take a nap while the packers worked. So we decided that he would go sleep no later than two, no matter what.

And he did.

As he was drifting off to sleep, he implored me to please go to sleep soon as well. I assured him I would do everything in my power to sleep.

While I worked to pack and sort (the most important aspect of having someone else pack your stuff), I marveled at how awake I felt. I wasn't even that tired. How was that possible?

And that's when I remembered. I've struggled with insomnia for the last few months. Nothing too severe, but I've been awake late, even compared to my normal night-owl proclivities. There were several nights that I stared at the insides of my eyeballs, praying for sleep.

But on Tuesday, when I had to be awake, I could be, because my body was already used to being alert at that time of the night. Packing was my own personal marathon.

I finally made myself climb into bed when I saw the dark outside my window starting to get light.

And don't worry, I slept for a full, normal, human eight hours last night. And I plan to do the same thing again tonight.

Hiding

Ant Farm

The movers arrive tomorrow morning. We're scurrying around like mostly-crazed ants trying to prepare.

And that is all.

Rare, Like a Unicorn

We had a beautiful few minutes of peace and calm today, so of course I took pictures.

A Mind of Its Own

I was exhausted when I posted yesterday. It had been a long day and my eyes were heavy as I typed. They were so heavy, in fact, that they kept closing on their own. I had to backtrack several times to fix sentences that didn't make sense. I finally finished and handed the computer to Bryan for proofing. While he read, I woke up a bit.

He had to do some additional fixing, then he gave the computer back. I glanced at the post title.

"Oh hey," I said, "you gave the post a title."

"No I didn't."

"But you must have, I was trying to think of one but I was too sleepy."

"Nope, wasn't me."

You guys, I name blog posts in my sleep!

I wonder if my unconscious mind can do other things, like fold laundry...

Eating the Scraps

We're close enough to the move that I've gone into overdrive using up the contents of our freezer. Yesterday I made strawberry cranberry sauce. Yes, it's a real thing. I'm going to use it in muffins and a cake tomorrow. We baked a whole chicken on Sunday and on Tuesday we used bacon, frozen fruit, chocolate coconut sugar-free ice cream, and green peppers as part of our breakfast for dinner.

Tonight I planned to make tater-tot casserole. Casseroles are a mysterious beast. We rarely ate them when I was a kid. In fact, my first exposure to them was as a teenage babysitter. I did a lot of babysitting when I was a twelve through fourteen year old. Being the oldest of five kids automatically makes you appealing for childcare roles. One family ate tater-tot casserole on a semi-regular basis. It was delicious.

Bryan ate a lot of casseroles while he was growing up. He is not so enamored with them. I generally only make them when I know Bryan won't be able to join us for dinner. However, tonight I knew we needed to use up our ingredients, whether Bryan was here or not, so I went ahead and cooked the ground beef, mixed up the cream of chicken soup from scratch, and pulled the frozen broccoli out of the freezer. When everything was assembled, I went to get the tater-tots to layer on top.

And that's when I discovered they were actually crinkle-cut french fries.

We had crinkle cut french fry casserole for dinner. Bryan agreed that we should have it again sometime. That my friends, is a success.

The Park is Always Better With Dad

Like the Von Trapps, Sort Of

One Sunday last month I was chatting with a friend after church. It's her responsibility to find musical numbers for Sacrament Meeting. She asked if I would sing one more time before we moved. I believe that if we don't use talents, we lose them, so I said yes. After deciding on the day, an idea occurred to me.

What if I didn't sing by myself? What if I had five other people that happen to share my last name join me?

I floated the idea to Bryan later that day. I thought for sure he would say no, but he didn't. Once I got a yes from him, I asked the kids. Peter was apprehensive, Cooper and Phoebe agreed, and Sophie was thrilled. "I sing at the microphone?" was her grinning reply.

This past Sunday was the day. We had rehearsed I Am a Child of God as mush as the kids would allow, which was not nearly enough for my liking. We divided the verses so the girls sang a little by themselves, the boys had a little duet, then Bryan and I sang together. We even added harmonies, but when I moved to the alto line the kids all lost the melody, so we scrapped them for the actual performance.

How did it go? Well, it went. Despite the microphone, I don't think anyone could hear the kids sing during their duets. It's an exceptionally lousy microphone. I got lots of compliments on how sweet it was that we all sang together, and several people said they had no idea that Bryan could sing, let alone that he has such a great voice. I smiled and said thank you and agreed that Bryan is a great singer.

The kids were happy with it, and that's what matters. Peter almost didn't get up to sing. He has such strong stage fright that it nearly kept him pinned to his seat, but he gathered his courage and joined us. Cooper and Phoebe were our strongest singers, but were a little overcome by the big congregation. Sophie sang as I held her, but would have preferred playing on the stand. The mic was too far away from her face to feel like she was really singing "at the microphone."

Now that this long-held musical dream of mine has been fulfilled, I'm planning for our next family performance. Two things have come to mind so far: we'll figure out a better way to use the mic, and we'll practice more.

Sometimes You Make a Five Hour Round Trip to Run Through a Fountain With Your Cousins...

...and then you spend the rest of the evening telling anyone who will listen how completely awesome it was.

The Plague

Bryan and I are sick, the kind of sick where all your limbs feel too heavy and your nose is plugged and you keep coughing and choking and your head and skin and body hurt. He took an actual sick day on Monday (a rare occurrence) and worked from home Tuesday and today. I used all my energy for the week taking the kids to the museum on Wednesday and have spent the rest of the time resting and letting the kids watch too much TV.

I had high hopes for packing in lots of adventures during our short time left here.

But sleep is good too.