Lark and Parker's going away party

The Fillmores were the kind of awesome friends who live down the street and trade babysitting and carpool your kids and teach their primary classes and feed your fish while you're away and come over for holidays and commiserate about the tough and wonderful life of surgical residency.  Our kids would bike cheerfully between the two houses and could be bribed to do just about anything with the promise that "you get to go over to Lark's house afterwards!"  Unfortunately, Parker decided to graduate from residency, get a hot-shot fellowship at Johns Hopkins, and pick up and move to Baltimore.  We didn't know what we'd do without them.  And my philosophy is "when in doubt, throw a party." 

Yeah, so that's what we did.  To send the Fillmore family off in style, we invited the whole ward and made tex mex food by the pan-full.  Everyone who loved the Fillmores---which is to say, everyone in the entire ward and a good portion of our neighborhood--came out to wish them well.  

Ana Wagner

Lark with the Turners

Zach and Summer 

The Airds

Jamie Jones with Cassidy and Dakota, Lisa McIntyre, Thavrin Sok, and Diane Stephens

The Peltons

At one count, there were as many as 11 children in the sand box. 

We loved the Fillmores and we'll miss having them around.  But I'm so glad we got to know them and their great kids, and we hope we'll bump into each other again.  

Jack, Paul, Charlotte, Afton, Mimi, and Anna

Charlotte, 5, and Afton, 8

Anna, 3, and Mimi, 4

Jack, 7, and Paul, 5

the marathon

Things I hope I won't forget about running my first marathon

Night before: Left my children with my in laws and drove down to Provo.  Upon noticing that the distance between Riverton and Provo is 26 miles, I hyperventilate the entire drive down.  Look for steel cut oats at the grocery store and come home, instead, with a large loaf of frosted apple cinnamon dessert bread.  Ok, well, actually only half of the loaf made it home.  Nervous eater.  Jenny stayed up and played cards with me until 1:00 am.

3:45 am:  Oatmeal (non steel cut) in hand, phone charged, dressed from head to toe in geeky running gear, Jenny drops me off at (what I thought was) the bus stop.  Jenny fusses over me like I'm a kindergartner on the first day of school.  Then, I realize that I have been dropped off at the "marathon maniacs" reunion bus instead.  Flee back to Jenny.

5:45 am:  I don't know if it's runners, or if it's Utah, but everyone at the starting line was really nice.  And as far as I can tell, everyone else has run at least a few marathons before.  The number of people willing to repeat the experience encourages me.

6:00 am:  Get lined up with the balding, smiling pacer wearing a "100 marathon club" singlet and holding a "4:00 marathon" sign.  He is full of encouragement and bouncing from foot to foot, anxious to get started.

Miles 1-7: Beautiful.  Keep the headphones off and talk to the racers nearby.  Wave at the few people who have come out of their farm houses and ranches to cheer us on.  Everything is green and smells like earth and I'm making plans in my head to move here someday.

Miles 7-9:  What?  A hill?  I thought this course was all downhill.  Untangle my headphones and plug in some hill-killing tunes.  This is about the time I start to notice the wind, too.

Miles 10-13:  Lost sight of my pacer when I take a quick porta-potty break.  Start rethinking my ambitious pace.

Mile 13: Catch up with the pacer around the half marathon mark.  Ask "Am I supposed to feel like this only halfway though?"  He keeps stride, doesn't move his head and say, "Nope.  You should feel great."  I am really hoping he is being sarcastic.

Mile 15:  I start looking forward with longing to seeing my family cheering up ahead.  Start counting miles by how close I am to mile 22 (our rendezvous) and then, by how close I am to mile 19 (when I plan on calling to give them a heads up.)

Mile 19:  Call Mom.  I am informed that Matt has driven all night to come cheer me on and is now somewhere between me and my family, walking ahead. I am expecting to see Matt waving on the sidelines any moment.  During all this, I lose sight of the pacer for the last time. And in an instant, I don't care how long it takes me to finish anymore.  I understand that just finishing at all will be an accomplishment.

Mile 20-21:  Where is Matt?!?  Seriously, how slow must he be walking?!?  I vow not to let him catch me walking, but my calves are starting to ache.

Mile 21.5:  Finally see Matt, holding a sign up high that says, "I drove all night to see you".  I nearly knock him over.  He runs beside me until we catch up with my family.

Mile 22:  Kids waving cow bells, holding signs.  Hugs and smiles.  I am so happy to see them all that I just want to quit right there and maybe sit down in their cooler.  Matt gets a bike and prods me onward.  I burst into tears.

Miles 22-26.1:  This is where I learn the difference between saying something will be tough and knowing how tough it is.  This is when I pull up every cheap mind trick and mantra I have to keep my legs moving. This is where I begin to form metaphors in my head between running and childbirth.  This is where I see the finish line ahead, but feel like I'm on a treadmill because it doesn't seem to be getting any closer.  This is where runners are stopping to rub their legs with ben-gay and slug down painkillers.  This is where the crowds thicken and a little girl waves a sign that said, "Don't stop now, people are watching!"  This is where Matt stays beside me on a bike, holding my popsicles and offering me water and telling me to get going again every time I start to walk.

Mile 26.2:  This is where I transform from a girl that runs sometimes to marathoner.  I am a different person than I was 4 hours and 7 minutes before.

Right after we crossed the finish line! 

  Even though I started the race with a goal of running under 4 hours and ended up at 4:07:02, I'm surprised by how little my finishing time matters to me.  I think with awe and respect of all the runners that surrounded me and finished near me and think, "Yeah.  I don't mind being one of these people." I might break 4 hours someday--might even go on and qualify for Boston--but maybe I'll just come back and toe the line for the joy of running and finishing and becoming a different person all over again.

I'd like to thank Mom, Dad, Carolyn, John, Jenn and Chris, James and a whole cadre of small children for coming out to support me.  Big kudos to Jenny for volunteering as team mom and dropping me off in the middle of the night.  I'd also like to thank Creamies for donating ice cream to all my children after the race.  Oh yeah, and Matt, for driving all night, and then walking a mile, running a mile, and biking 6 more.  And for shoving me out the door on the mornings my alarm clock was "broken", pretending he enjoyed hearing play by plays of all my long training runs, and everything else.  

Highlights for a New Year

I'm not nearly as good at taking pictures as I should be, considering how absurdly attractive my family is.  Here is a smattering of the last few weeks.   

This is: a pictures of Charlotte showing off her finished Christmas cookies.

The pictures I did not take:  anything at all of the 20+ people we had in our house one afternoon during Christmas break when we hosted a cookie decorating party.  Together, we managed to decorate well over 200 cookies.  I was inspired to host this party by Matt's work friend, Terry, who has hosted a similar party for many years and who has invited us to come and frost her home year after year--despite having no children of her own.

These are: pictures of the kids in their new Christmas jammies.

The pictures I did not take:  the kids running around the house searching for "Christmas angel" clues, "mary" (Charlotte) riding on "the donkey" (Grandpa), while the "angel" (Anna) stands on the coffee table and shouts, "Behold, I give you good tidings of great joy!"


This is:  a picture of the kids on Christmas morning, ready to go downstairs.
The pictures I did not take: Charlotte and Anna throwing up on Grandma right before bed on Christmas Eve.  Matt sneaking downstairs to turn on my new iPod dock (which started playing manheim steamroller while it was still wrapped under the tree.)  A morning full of  frenzied, noisy joy, crinkled paper and "oh, mommy, I LOVE it!"

This is: a picture of the girls painting each other's nails.

The picture I did not take: Anna opening her nail polish straight out of her stocking and proceeding to paint her lips with it...like lip gloss.  Also, token splotches of nail polish that ended up on Jack and Ben's church clothes.






This is: a picture of Anna's stitches, the morning after her unfortunate disagreement with our TV stand.  (January 7th)


The picture I did not take: blood streaming down Anna's head as I yell up the stairs for Matt, who was mercifully home and ready within minutes with lidocaine and sutures.  Anna, crying but holding remarkably still as Matt put 7 stitches into her forehead right in our bedroom.  The 6 OTHER children (ours, plus Lark's) that sat downstairs while all this was happening, being considerate enough not to break their heads open, too.

The picture I did not HAVE to take: Liz sitting with 6 other children in a crowded ER into the early hours of the morning, waiting for someone to get her 3 year old's head to stop bleeding.  Wow, am I grateful at times like this for the highly specialized talents of my superhero husband!

For my tech-savvy friends (especially the ones for whom I have no valid street address), here is our 2011 holiday letter, complete with charming pictures. :) 

There’s a first time for everything…

Swenson Family 2011

In February, I was inexplicably inspired to start running and started the Coach to 5K training program.  Subsequently, I ran my first 5K (April 23), my first 12K (Thanksgiving), my first half marathon (July 4^th), and my first Ragnar relay (October).  I offer cheerful apologies to all the runners I have taunted in the past, as well as all the non-runners whom I now badger to run with me because “it’s just 3 miles, come on!” (Since we’re on the subject, you know you really want to run the Salt Lake Marathon with me next spring…!)

Anna has transformed into a dangerously charming young lady this year, earning nicknames like “bombshell” and “Miss America”, in part because of her cascading blonde hair.  She will stormily protest if you accidentally call her a “little” anything (“I am NOT a little lady.  I’m a BIG lady!”)  She has yet to experience her first haircut, as Liz is still remembers Charlotte’s own haircut from last year all too clearly. 

Charlotte started Kindergarten and Jack started first grade, and with those first days came hectic schedules and a flurry of other firsts.  For example, my first carpool, the first time I made a loaf’s worth peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and froze them, and the first time I fell asleep on top of my kids’ homework.

Jack signed up for his first organized sport --coach-pitch baseball.  Although it took some time to learn the rules (once, he got to second base then kept running straight into the outfield) he enjoyed it.  He also loved having Matt there to cheer him on, even when that meant Dad sacrificed sleep to be there. 

Do you remember the first time you read James and the Giant Peach or The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe?  Matt cuddles up with Jack and Charlotte each night and reads out loud from our old childhood favorites.  It’s been wonderful seeing our kids experience these classics for the first time!

Matt has always loved fish, but recently took his first steps into the complicated world of salt water reef aquariums.  He takes great joy in watching his new coral thrive and agonizes over unexplained fish deaths (Matt’s mom: “Honestly, Matt, you should know better than to name a fish!”). 

Ben’s first words so far have been “Yeah!” “Uh-oh!” and a fuzzy version of “Look at THAT!”  He hasn’t yet taken his first steps, but since he can make it from my lap to the open toilet bowl in 2.3 seconds, there’s no rush.  He is as charming, happy, and googly-eyed as ever.

While we’ve had plenty of new experiences this year, lots of things have stayed the same.  Matt enjoys his work and I thrive as a stay-at-home mom.  Jack continues to constantly hum his own theme music, Charlotte still gets lost in art projects, and Anna can still get out of trouble with a charming smile.  We still miss our scattered friends, and we still invite all of you to stop by our house if you ever come our way. 

Love, Liz, Matt, Jack (6), Charlotte (5), Anna (3) and Ben (1) Swenson 

Halloween fun!

Halloween is one of my favorite times of year.  It's a wonderful combination of mischief, creativity, and neighborliness.  Sprinkled with liberal amounts of chocolate.  From the left:  Anna as Rapunzel, Ben as a dragon, Jack as Captain America, and Charlotte as a witch.

"Mom!  I have to have a green face so that I will be so spooky!  My friends will not even know who I am because I will be SO SCARY!"
                                                                                 --Charlotte
 

"Mom, I'm not dressing up as Captain America.  I AM Captain America."
                                                                              --Jack

Anna got this Rapunzel dress for her birthday last week and was thrilled to use it as a Halloween costume.  Multi-tasking bonus!  :)

Ben actually looks like he has a healthy body weight in this picture.  Poor thing.  He got lots of candy from the adoring neighbors though!

Matt didn't go all out on the pumpkin carving this year--just three--but the kids were great helpers, scooping pumpkin sludge all over the kitchen, while Matt crafted his masterpieces.  

you did WHAT in Vegas!?!?

Reasons Why I am Going to Wear this Gray T-Shirt EVERY DAY for the next 2 weeks...

Reason #1:  After months of planning, recruiting, shuffling, and plenty of self doubt, Ragnar weekend came: 188 miles, 12 runners, 29 hours.  Here we all are at the finish line with our well-deserved medals (I would also wear the medal for the next two weeks, but Matt forbade that.  Probably a good thing...)

Reason #2:  No really, I promise, it was REALLY fun.  I know all you non-runners are rolling your eyes at the prospect.  It was 3 parts racing, one part slumber party, one part camping.  All through some of the most beautiful areas around.  

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 Reason #3:  We went pretty mellow in our costume choice--and yes, compared to many other teams, our brilliant neon tee shirts were very mellow.  Our favorites: a bunch of dudes running in red dresses and a group wearing togas.

Reason #4:  What better way to hang out with people than to meet them every mile of their race at the side of the road, hollering and cheering?  Also, nothing like knowing the van is waiting up ahead to keep you from walking up those nasty hills.  It was racing with a whole new level of support and camaraderie.

 Reason #5:  I took the car seats out of my van for the first time in months, and vacuumed up layers of accumulated crackers, stickers, and polly pocket shoes.  Then, we proceeded to load it with junk food, 6 smelly runners, window chalk, and by the end, a complete coating of dust.  I will get around to cleaning it, but I must say it was quite the spectacle in the church parking lot this morning.

Reason #5:  Matt came out to support me on my night run, because I wanted him to be part of the fun and because I had to run through a trail away from the van for a while.  He came along on his bike and chatted the whole time.  Also note the attractive reflective running gear we lived in from 5:00 pm to 7:00 am.  

Reason #6:  I am a killing machine. See the red blur?  That's a dude in a dress.  See that yellow blur?  That's me, leaving him behind to choke on my dust.  Not to say that worthy opponents didn't catch up to me plenty, but I did run like greased neon yellow lightening.  I made great--even PR beating--times on all three of my legs.  

Reason #7:  I even love the less glamorous aspects of the race--like wearing reflective vests, using porta-potties and sleeping clumped together in the back of a rank van.  Just added to the whole experience.

That's seven reasons.  It could have been 12 (as in 12 amazing team members), or 36 (number of legs we ran together) or even 188 (for the number of miles.  or the number of porta-potties).  But if I had to describe the whole thing in one word?  Epic.  :)

Happy Birthday, Ben!

Well, I've been the mother of four for a year now.  A long, hectic, wonderful year.  Something about this year changed me.  I'm not really a better mom, but I'm definitely a happier one.  I love being with these kids; I love watching them grow up and I've even found myself taking pictures of their messes so that I can remember them when my house is empty and clean someday.  

This new attitude may be the result of maturity or desperation but I think it mainly comes from looking at my little family and saying, "hey!  Everyone's here.  Now let's get this party started!"  Add to that the considerable joy I feel at the prospect of never being pregnant again, and it's been a party, for sure.  Ben is more delightful than I possibly could have hoped.  I mean, look at him.  If he were your kids, you'd be writing gushy blog entries about him too.  :)