Green Canyon

When I was a kid and we would go to St. Anthony to visit my maternal grandma, Lillis Johnson, I always hoped that she would take us to Green Canyon.  Green Canyon is a natural hot springs and pool.

When Grandma would take us, I always called her Gram, we would all pile into her old boat of a car.  It was one of those old cars with the really long nose and seats that went all the way across both front and back.  I think it was a gold or tan color with a hood ornament.  She'd put all five of us in that car and drive us to the hot springs.  We would be so excited.  I don't really remember a radio on while we drove but I do remember Gram talking to us and playing road games.  It was quite a long drive for little kids.  I think it was about 30-40 minutes from Gram's house. 

The road there was not paved and I remember knowing we were getting close when we'd turn off the paved road onto the dusty road, kicking up dust and gravel.  I loved having the windows down even though it had to be really hot with all the summer heat and bodies trapped in that car.  It's amazing how well you tolerate things as a child.  No air conditioning is a deal breaker for any adult these days.  When we turn onto the gravel road we would slowly make our way down a winding canyon road.  It was always really pretty.  Green and lush.  It seemed like we were the only people in the world as we drove down that road. 

Recently, we had a family reunion in Eastern Idaho and Green Canyon was on the itinerary.  I was amazed that there were still places on this planet that were quiet and untouched.  There was a lot of farmland.  You couldn't see any residences are businesses.  It was just an endless sight line of beautiful green rolling hills.  There's a small river that snakes through the canyon with you as you drive and you may see an occasional fisherman, but otherwise it's completely isolated.  I've been living in large cities for so long that it was unfathomable that something so serene existed.  It would be nice to be able to escape to a place like that every time life got chaotic.  Sometimes there's nothing better than silence.

As a child I knew we were there as soon as I saw the camping site right next to the small building that housed the pool.  We would pull into an unmarked parking lot and cascade out of the car.  We were so excited to be there!  I am amazed at my grandma's courage in taking five small children on her own to a pool!  She would keep us close as we paid our entrance and made our way to the dressing rooms.  They were damp and dark with small stalls lining the walls.  There was a curtain for each stall that didn't cover the entire width of the door.  Gram would take us into one of the larger corner stalls and get us all ready together.  I remember sitting patiently on the bench in the dressing room as she got my two younger brothers dressed.  My older sisters were old enough to get themselves ready and they would go in ahead of us.  They were already great swimmers.  I probably could have joined them, but I had this pull towards my grandma.  I never wanted her out of my sight.  I loved her so much and wanted to be with her every second I had her.  Mom always said we had a special bond and I still remember feeling it as a child. 

After we all got dressed we'd put our clothes into mesh bags with hangers on top.  There was an elastic with a numbered medallion around the neck of each hanger.  Gram would slip that off and put it around her ankle or wrist, turn in the bags, and take us by the hand as we made our way out to the pool. 

The smell of the pool is something I'll never forget but never be able to adequately describe.  The air was hot and humid and sat on top of you.  It didn't help that it was all enclosed.  You weren't cool in the water or out of the water.  It truly felt like bath water.  It looked like bath water, too.  As a child you don't care and you go for it, jumping in the pool all at once and loving every second of it.  The Green Canyon establishment was probably never a well kept, classy place.  You don't notice the floors that have probably never seen a mop or the rust around the perimeter fence when you're in the middle of childhood.  We didn't care and we loved being there.

Gram would call us out of the pool too soon.  We'd go back into the dressing rooms after turning in our numbered medallion and try and pull on our dry clothes over our damp, sticky bodies.  It was always a struggle as the clothes twisted and stuck.  We'd make our way out, bellies full of dirty water feeling relaxed and a little sick at the same time.  Every once in a while Gram would let us stop and drool over at the candy counter where tootsie rolls, dum dums, and candy bars were shining up at us.  If we had any of our own money we would spend it there.  That never helped with the aching stomach!  Gram would surprise us sometimes with a few nickles and pennies and we could each choose one treat. 

We would eat our candy in the car as Gram would take the steering wheel in both hands and drive us home.  The drive home was always quieter than the drive there.  We had expended so much energy while the warm water pulled out all the rest.  Sometimes we'd sleep and other times we'd try and hold our stomachs.  I just remember sitting next the Gram in the front seat.  The summer air blowing past me from the open windows.  I'm sure I leaned on her as I watched her slender hands with their pronounced knuckles and clean, well filed fingernails take us home.  Nothing was better than that secure feeling.  We'd made memories together.  I wasn't aware of it at the time, but those would be memories chiseled deeply into my brain.  I treasure them now.  Something so simple as a trip to the hot springs as a young family left unforgettable impressions and feelings.  

What's most rewarding to me at this time is that I have now taken my two small children to Green Canyon.  I've done all the same things with them.  It's as if time never touched Green Canyon in it's secluded Idaho location.  The tiles are still crumbling off the walls and the dressing rooms are still completely inadequate for privacy.  Even the mesh bags with the elastic tags are the same.  I bought my kids penny and nickle candy marveling that there are still places that sell candy for so little.  I watched them jump from the sides of the pool into the warm water feet first just as I used to.  The only thing that has changed is me and the size of the pool.  In my memory it was so much larger than it actually is.  That night after our swim, I hugged my children while we roasted hot dogs at the same camp site and smelled the hot springs in their hair and glowed in their smiling faces turned up towards me.  I know it's too much to hope that my children will have the same memories of their trip to Green Canyon as I did, but I do hope that they knew at the end of that long, jam packed, fun day that they were loved and well taken care of.  I guess my biggest hope is they had the same secure feeling that day with my arms wrapped around them as I did resting my head on my Gram's shoulder.

Insecurities and Regrets

This post has the potential to have a pretty depressing tone, but I'm writing about these topics in an effort to be an open book to those who read it.  I don't have a ton of insecurities.  I think I have the equivalent that most people have.  I believe that everyone is blessed with some easy things and everyone is blessed with some harder things.  I've found that people I look at who are so long, lean, tone and thin, like I'd like to be, suffer from feeling too tall, having big feet, or being uncoordinated.  The things that I feel would make my life perfect, if only I had them, come at a price.  Unfortunately, we always want what we don't have.  For me it's really easy to fixate on that and get a little depressed.  Like I mentioned before, I've always wanted to be a little taller, a lot toner and much thinner.  People looking at me don't think I'm fat, I hope, but I've always felt insecure.  I have a dense body with high muscle mass and in my mind that's not very beautiful or feminine.  I try to look at the bright side and tell myself that I have a strong and highly functional body, but some days I just really wish I could be the beautiful, tiny doll that all women are judged against these days. 

I think that your peers growing up play a huge role in the insecurities that we end up struggling with our entire lives.  For example, my two older sisters, in a completely nonthreatening way, pointed out that my eyes droop slightly.  Since that day I've been acutely aware of that fact.  I've tried to learn to do my eye makeup in a way to disguise their downward slope, but I still never feel completely confident.  My sisters didn't do that to make me feel bad but I'll always remember that. 

Speaking of confidence, that's another thing is struggle with.  I've never been overly confident.  I wish I was.  I hold myself back from a lot of things because I'm afraid to fail.  Failure isn't my biggest fear, though, it's looking stupid while I fail.  There are so many things that I'd like to do like go to grad school, publish a cookbook, and maybe someday have a bakery.  All of these things scare me.  I applied to grad school this year and wasn't accepted anywhere.  It was really painful.  I put myself out there knowing I could fail and I did.  The great thing is I have a good support system and I've been convinced to try again, maybe in a different field.  I hope to eventually get into a program and educate myself a little further.  I don't want it feel like I could have done more or that I chose to stand still when I was given the chance to run.  In regards to the cookbook, what if no one buys it?  I would see that as a failure.  What if I finally get the bakery of my dreams and no one comes to eat there?  I get huge satisfaction out of feeding people and seeing them enjoy my food.  What if people came and realized it wasn't good?  That would be worse than people not coming at all. 

The good thing about all my insecurities is that there is always a flip side.  Like I said before, despite my physical insecurities I am relatively healthy and can do most things I want.  I may not have beautiful eyes, but I have long eyelashes and I think my hair is pretty.  I may never get into grad school, or I may and find out I can't hack it, but at least my kids will see that I tried and I wasn't afraid to fail (on the outside).  The cookbook may be published and the public may not love it, but I know my family will find joy in seeing what I loved to cook.  Same with the bakery.  It may be a miserable failure, but I reached for a dream.  I think finding the flip side is part of the reason we are each given our own insecurities.  We struggle all our lives with them, the key is to accept them and rise above.

Okay, regrets.  I kind of touched a tiny bit on them with the insecurity topic.  Redundancy is my specialty!  To quickly sum it up in reference to the insecurity stuff, don't let an insecurity keep you from trying something new.  You will regret it.  Even the small things.  When we lived in Chicago there was so much I wanted to do but was afraid to do on my own.  I never did them and now I wish I could go back to that great city and do it all over again.  I missed out on great culture, food and events and I regret it. 

I think life is riddled with regrets.  You can't go through it with out a few.  I regret that way I treated people when I was younger.  I was selfish and only cared to review my perspective before making decisions.  I regret some of the boys I dated, but try to remember what I learned from each one of them.  I regret not spending more time with my grandparents before they were all gone.  If I had them now I would treat them so differently.  I looked at them as sharing nothing in common with me.  I didn't find them approachable.  My Grandma Johnson wasn't like that.  She was one of my favorite people in all the world and she still is.  I wasn't there when she died and I could have been.  I will regret that decision for the rest of my life.  She'd struggled with Alzheimer's for a decade at that time and I didn't know how to be around her.  That shouldn't have mattered.  She was who I'd loved my whole life.  The grandma who smelled like celery, who pushed my on my trike down the sidewalk, who made her own yogurt and spoiled us all with root beer floats.  I made a terrible decision.  The awful thing about most regrets is that you usually have no opportunity to fix them.  I may get to go back to Chicago, I may not.  I will never get to see my Grandma Johnson alive in my lifetime again.  I think some regrets can be spared us if we remember what a blessing each day is.  You don't get to do anything over after you close your eyes at night.  You get another opportunity, maybe, but those will eventually run out.  Each experience is it's own and can never be duplicated.  If you remember that and what your priorities in life are maybe you can be spared some regrets.  Love your family fiercely, treat people with all the consideration you'd like in return, and try to do the things that sound exciting to you when you get the chance.

Interests and Daily Frustrations

The things that interest me are very diverse. This becomes quite a problem when I think about what I'd like to do once I get a chance to pursue my higher education. First, and I think most obvious to those who know me best, is cooking. Right now I find it very fun and interesting. There's so much to learn on the topic that I don't think I'll ever exhaust it. I want to get really good at baking. Making beautiful desserts and breads is very rewarding to me. I love to feed other people and I think it's a good way to form relationships and memories. I'd love to have a very small bakery and pastry shop where I got to produce whatever I fancied. I'd love to travel and try to duplicate the delicious creations from whence I traveled. Another interest is reading. I think I read about a book a week when I go to the library or I have new books. I especially love books that are historical fiction. A friend of mine only reads non-fiction and so I thought I'd give that a try because I may learn even more. It would be wonderful to be an author. The amount of work and research going into authoring a book sometimes astounds me. If I ever author anything I hope it's a cookbook. I am a very dedicated exerciser. I got my degree in exercise science and although I don't remember much, I do remember why I love it. I try to go six times a week but recently someone is always sick and I don't want to share the germs with the rest of the community. I really love the YMCA that I currently am a member of and it will break my heart to leave it behind when we move. Another thing I love, and I worry it will make me sound materialistic, is beauty and clothing. I don't know if I do this so much because I love it, or because it boosts my confidence. Either way, it's something I find myself doing regularly. I especially love shoes and high heels. The fancier and more colorful the better. I love looking for new ways to wear makeup and do my hair. I think the internet and youtube are heaven sent for people like me who really have no idea what they're doing. I think I come together pretty well in the end. I want to be sure that I never embarrass my children because of the way I look. I want them to know that I respect myself enough to try and take care of myself and put my best foot forward at all times. Hopefully, this will wear off on them.

I'm not sure where I was going last time with my daily frustrations, but I'm guessing it had to do with being home everyday and doing the same things all the time. I love being home with Scarlett and being able to hang out with Nate when he gets home from school. My mom being home for me was one of the most important things for me growing up. I remember when she went back to school and work my senior year of high school. It was strange not to have her home and to talk with her about my day. I understand now why she did go back to school and work, but at the time I didn't. I hope if I work or if I'm away that Nate and Scarlett know it's because I want to become the best version of myself and I believe that means always improving and learning and for me that means school. Anyway, back to the frustrations. I think one of the hardest things to overcome as a stay at home mom is the monotony. My mom was always so busy that she never really told me she was bored. Maybe she never was. I remember her "going on strike" when she got sick of cleaning up after us, but I never heard her complain about the mundane tasks she did daily. It's not fun to always be doing laundry, standing at a sink full of dishes, or scrubbing bathrooms. There is great reward in taking care of your things and keeping an orderly home, but it never stays taken care of or orderly long enough. I always feel like I'm thinking, "Didn't I just sweep this floor?" Most of the time it doesn't bother me but every once in a while I crave something different. Of course, like everything in life it's a matter of perspective. At this point in my life I think going to school would be just the medicine I needed to break my monotony, but Robert, who goes to school daily and finds it monotonous, may think that staying home would be just the ticket for him. It's so hard to understand where people's perspective comes from until you've experienced their circumstance. What I do know is that there are people who are older than you and have experienced more than you that may offer some wisdom. Don't disregard it. Listen and try to apply it. I hope that this may be one such time. No one ever really told me how much my stay at home mom would really appreciate me going out and weeding a flower bed, or vacuuming all the carpets or cleaning out the garage. I can tell you now, she would have really appreciated it. It's hard work to keep a house clean and functioning. You don't know until you try it yourself. So much goes on behind the scenes. So, if you can see something that would ease the burden, try and do it. Nothing tells a mother more that you appreciate her and love her for what she does more than trying to lighten her load.

Next time: insecurities and regrets.

Why

I've been a blogger for quite some time and always looked at it as a way to avoid journaling and scrapbooking. Since I find little pleasure in either of those activities I found blogging to be the best way to chronicle my life for my children and possible future generations. Recently, there has been a small voice in my head growing in volume telling me that although the blog shows what we do as a family and the people we meet and the places we go, it says little about me personally. I grew up in a home with very dedicated and supportive parents and I've grown to love and appreciate them so much more as I've grown into an adult and begun my own family. One if the things I was never privy to was my parents' thoughts. My mother is my best friend now and we speak on the phone frequently. Now she shares with me the thoughts and concerns that I was oblivious to as a child. I think sometimes it might have been beneficial for me to have known those things earlier. So that is why I want to do this. I want my kids to have some sort of reference into my heart and soul. When I'm not around I want them to know what kind of person I was and how I thought. I hope the things I post here will be mostly uplifting and positive, but I want them to know that life is not always easy and it's okay to struggle. I want them to know the things that spark my interest and things that bore me. The things I aspire to and the things that scare me. I also want a place that I can be completely honest. So in an effort to fulfill that goal I want to start with some of the thoughts I've had this weekend.

One of the things that I have always struggled with is prayer. I've been aware of this shortcoming, but I always lack the urgency to be better. I miss the conversations I could be having with my Heavenly Father and know that if I were having them some of the things I worry about wouldn't worry me so much. Although I don't speak with Him frequently, I feel His presence in my life constantly. I've been blessed beyond measure. I want to become better at prayer for my children. We try to pray together as a family regularly so I know they see me pray, but they need the personal prayers of their mother more. I worry about them all the time being placed in my care. I feel inadequacy almost daily. Nate is such a sweet boy. His heart is full of compassion and he genuinely loves everyone around him. He is the picture of Christlike love for me. Scarlett is in her toddlerhood and therefore quite a challenge. I worry how to teach her boundaries. I also worry about helping see her own worth. I struggled with that supremely as a young girl and want to be able to help Scarlett through all that uncertainty. I want them both to know without a doubt, everyday, that they are a child of God. They are so special and unique and they can do things that no one else can do. I also want to teach them that everyone is a child of God and we should look at them as such. No matter what the outside may say about a person, we all came from the same Heavenly parents and He loves all of us. This is why I need to pray more. I know Heavenly Father will direct me, helping me touch my children in a way that they can learn these things.

The other thing that has been on my mind a lot is family. You only have one family. Recently, mine has hit a few rough patches. My parents are doing well, but some my siblings are struggling and it has affected me deeply. Two of my siblings have been through divorces in the last year or so and another has not been active in the church for a long time. My heart breaks for each of them. My sister who is not active is golden. She's wonderful and selfless and can make any party more fun. I'm sad she doesn't have some of the blessings she could have. I worry about her and her family's eternal state. I want them all with me forever. My brother whose been through a divorce fell away from the church for a while and turned to alcohol in his anger. I feel like I can understand his loneliness and sadness. It's been hard to watch his children work through things. It's been even harder learning to forgive my brother for his choices and his ex-wife for hers. My sister whose been through a divorce is also angry. I want to her be happy so badly. I know she can be but she complicates her own life a lot of the time. My purpose in bringing this all up is to say that family is hard. It's almost inevitable that they will hurt you. That being said, you have to be okay with that and still love them. There may be times that you will be stuck in the middle. I hope you don't choose a side. Love them all equally. It's the only way you'll get through it and still be close. If there is a strained relationship in your family don't turn away from it. There are a few for me that scare me and I'm nervous whenever we interact, but I don't want to lose whatever I do have with them. Whatever we go through together, good or bad, I want them to know that I'll be there. Like I said before, you only have one family. Love them as deeply as you can. Nothing is more important than your parents and your siblings and your future family. Don't let anything ever come between you.

Next time I want to tell you about my interests, and some daily frustrations. Don't worry, nothing too heavy!