40.4/52

I love animals.  All kinds, really, but there are two that reign supreme.  Giraffes and elephants. Hands down.  No question.

Yesterday we visited the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo.  Our first stop?  The giraffe exhibit.  We bought the equivalent of three heads of romaine lettuce and spent about an hour feeding them.

Give me that lettuce!

I'll take that!

How about me?  Do you have any for me?

Isaac is a little afraid of that long tongue!

Giraffe selfie!!

After the giraffes, we went to see the elephants.  Elephants are Abbi's favorite.  We got there just as they were doing a little demonstration.

This is Lucky.  She has arthritis in her back and one of her back legs.  They do elephant yoga with her  (and all the elephants) every day and do all kinds of exercises with positive reinforcement to strengthen their bond with Lucky and so that they can examine her so she stays healthy.  In this demonstration, she started purring.  Seriously.  Watch the video.  I didn't even know they made this noise.  It was the cutest thing ever!!

And even cuter than that?  Elephant art.

I'm pretty certain I know my next dream job.  Hosting art class with all my elephant friends.  

I love all the interaction opportunities with the animals at this zoo.  Check out Isaac with a budgerigar.  It's also known as a budgie or a common pet parakeet.  Some were very friendly and would come down and perch on you to eat the birdseed on the Popsicle stick.  

Abbi petting a wallaby.

And we ended our day at a row of rocks.  Smiling.

Well, we were smiling until we got to the little shack that sells cotton candy and realized they were closed.  Do you know how difficult it is to find cotton candy??  LOL

40.2/52

Who knew my family would love skiing so much!??  It took a bit to get us all booted and skiied up, but once we did, Brian gave us all a lesson.  How to stop, how to ski, how to turn around - all that. And in no time, we were ready to hit the ski lift!

My skis, Isaac's skis and Brian's skis. That shadow?  That's the girls on the chair ahead of us.

Isaac was a natural.  He is wired just like Brian - it's so easy for them to learn things.  The girls did great too - a couple of falls, but soon they were going on the harder trails.  I have been skiing only once before (also with Brian - and his friend, Chad, too) about 19 years ago.  Sheesh, that sounds like a long time ago!!  It took me a bit to feel comfortable, but then it was sort of like riding a bike, it all started to come back to me.

R - L: Me, Emma, Isaac, Abbi and Brian. Check out the mountains behind us!

The last run we took, I decided to go down the same trail as the girls.  Someone forgot to tell me to stay to the left.  The right side of the trail was, let's say, bumpy, hilly, not completely flat.  I couldn't tell and all of a sudden I'm struggling to stay vertical.  Expletives were said aloud and I prayed that I wouldn't die.  I made it out of that crazy terrain and then almost slowed to a stop, just to catch my breath.  I'm glad I survived.  

When we were returning the boots and skis, I was surprised to hear how much everyone loved it and how we have to plan another ski trip.  Yes!!

Thankfully Wisconsin is closer than Colorado, so it's definitely doable.  

40/52

Happy Easter to everyone!  

As I sit here writing from a desk in a hotel room, I'm looking out the window to see snow covered mountains.  It's Spring Break for us and we opted to do something a little different this year.  Brian and I love the mountains, and the kids had never been skiing before.  It was completely logical, then, to go to Colorado.  

Brian and I (and our kids for that matter) have always lived in Illinois.  It's flat there.  You look out into the horizon and see nothing.  Sometimes clouds would form a ridge along the horizon and I would imagine they were mountains off in the distance.  

Mountains are majestic, awe-inspiring and beautiful.  Being close to mountains, or being on one reminds you how small you are and how big they are.  And makes you thank God  that he created them.  

This is our second trip to Colorado as a family.  We flew out here in 2008.  Abigail and Emma were just little midgees then, 7 and 5.  And Isaac was just two.  Brian and I would remark at the beauty of the mountains as we drove through them and the girls were nonplussed.  Although they really enjoyed the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo and the hike we took to the Flatiron Mountains, so thankfully the trip wasn't a complete bust for them.  

On Saturday, as we began to see the mountains along the horizon, the kids were instantly excited.  And with every mile, the enthusiasm grew.  Until we were driving THROUGH the mountains.  We all couldn't even contain ourselves.  At one point, Brian actually let me and the kids out of the car so we can run up a ridge and take pictures.  

It was cloudy on Saturday when we drove in. 

It was snowing through some of the mountains as we drove through.  Beautiful fluffy snowflakes swirled around us.  

Yesterday we tubed at Copper Mountain.  It was so much fun!  And then we had dinner (notice that even though there is snow on the ground and all around, we aren't wearing coats!) and the kids actually asked for their picture to be taken.  You better believe I took advantage of that!

Blue skies on Sunday!

Their future is bright, isn't it? 

So this morning, we are off to ski.  We are beyond excited.  I'll try to check in again if I can. :)

39/52

Have you ever seen the movie "The NeverEnding Story?"  You may not have.  It wasn't ever a big hit.  It was released in 1984 and was pretty cheesy.  But it was and still is one of my favorites.  I think my dad took me to see it in the theater.

Without giving too much away, I'll tell you a little about it.  Bastian, a daydreaming boy, gets his hands on a book like no other.  About a land called Fantasia, that is being destroyed by the Nothing.  The childlike Empress that rules Fantasia is sick.  So Fantasia needs a hero.  Enter Atreyu.  He is asked to go on a quest, with his horse Artax, to save their world.

Atreyu journeys through the Swamps of Sadness, where it is said that if the sadness overtakes you, you will sink.   Morla, the ancient one, lives in the Swamps of Sadness.  He is thought to know how to cure the Empress, although he doesn't seem to care that the Empress is sick or that the Nothing is destroying Fantasia.  "We don't even care whether or not we care."  After sneezing on Atreyu several times (ick), Morla refers Atreyu to the Southern Oracle.  Atreyu is excited for the information, until he finds out that the Southern Oracle is 10,000 miles away.

Unbeknownst to Atreyu, he is being chased by Gmork, a fierce wolf-like creature.  Just as Gmork is closing in on Atreyu in the Swamp of Sadness, Atreyu is rescued by Falcor, a luck dragon. 

Falcor carries Atreyu 9,891 miles - almost the entire distance to the Southern Oracle. Before he can get to the Southern Oracle, he has to pass through two gates.  The first gate has two sphinx statues.  "The Sphinxes eyes stay closed, until someone who doesn't feel his own worth tries to pass by."  The second gate is a mirrorgate.  This is where warriors see their true selves.  "Kind people find out that they are cruel.  Brave men discover that they are really cowards."

Atreyu finally makes it to the Southern Oracle.  As the winged Sphinxes start to crumble they explain that the way to save the Childlike Empress is to give her a new name.  A human child, beyond the boundaries of Fantasia, must give it to her. 

As Atreyu and Falcor fly to get beyond the boundaries of Fantasia, the Nothing is growing stronger.  In the storm, Atreyu is thrown from Falcor's back.  Atreyu comes face-to-face with Gmork, but Gmork doesn't realize that it's Atreyu as he gives his villainous monologue. 


G'mork: Foolish boy. Don't you know anything about Fantasia? It's the world of human fantasy. Every part, every creature of it, is a piece of the dreams and hopes of mankind. Therefore, it has no boundaries.
Atreyu: But why is Fantasia dying, then?
G'mork: Because people have begun to lose their hopes and forget their dreams. So the Nothing grows stronger.
Atreyu: What is the Nothing?
G'mork: It's the emptiness that's left. It's like a despair, destroying this world. And I have been trying to help it.
Atreyu: But why?
G'mork: Because people who have no hopes are easy to control; and whoever has the control... has the power!
Atreyu: Who are you, really?
G'mork: I am the servant of the power behind the Nothing. I was sent to kill the only one who could have stopped the Nothing. I lost him in the Swamps of Sadness. His name... was Atreyu.

I won't give the ending away, because I know that you now desperately want to go to the WalMart $5 DVD bin and look for this movie.

But here are the lessons to be learned from this cheesy, 1980's children's movie:

1. Fantasia is real.  It's where all your dreams live.  The Nothing is also real.  And it comes in the form of the busy-ness of life, time that gets away from us, and it's threatening all your dreams.  Gmork is very real.  He is the negative force in your life that doesn't want you to achieve your dreams.  He pretends to be a healthy dose of reality and caution, but really he is just mean. 

2. There are times in your life where we feel like you are stuck in the swamps of sadness.  You'll make it through if you have a little bit of faith and just keep swimming  moving.  If you stop, and lose faith, you'll sink.

3. You do have to feel you are worth it (and you ARE, you just have to believe it) - taking this chance to achieve your dreams (you deserve to!) - and take an honest look at yourself.  Who are you, really?

4. You have to give your dream a name.  You really have to give it wings (for the record, Falcor can fly, but he doesn't have wings).  Put some thought into it, map it out, and reach out and grab it.  

So I've been wanting to get my haircut for a while and just couldn't.  Something was stopping me.  Some nagging, annoying, naysayer in my head (that sounded an awful lot like my brother) telling me that it wouldn't turn out the way I wanted, I would look like a boy, blah, blah, blah.

Well, I fought Gmork and won.

Because when I was right around Atreyu's age, I looked very similar to a twelve year-old boy. LOL

 

So grab a bag of popcorn and your favorite friends and watch this movie.  Enjoy it's cheesy soundtrack, the fantastical creatures and encouraging plot line.  :)

38/52

Saturday morning, Isaac and I went to watch my nephew, Luke, play basketball.  All the boys played well and it was such a close game!  With just 17 seconds left in the fourth quarter, the game was tied at 20. 

But with a two minute overtime, the other team scored and won. 

When Luke wasn't on the court, though, I noticed how my brother interacted with him.

I have no idea what they are saying to each other, but my brother thinks it's hysterical.  Nathan is like an assistant coach for their team, so he often yelling out directions and encouragement to the boys on the court and praising them when they're off. 

I usually don't like my brother very much.  This is the kid that would endlessly practice wrestling moves on me after watching some WWF match.  Who bodyslammed me off a bed and knocked my front tooth out.  This is the kid that would tell me that he would give me a dollar to do his chores and then never would cough up the money.  This is the kid that teased me about all my imperfections.  I know, you feel really bad for me right now, don't you?  Eh, you shouldn't.  I got my revenge.  I once bopped him over the head with a metal lunchbox.  And then again some other time with a heavy metal shovel.  I am laughing as I write this, because, seriously, I was the "good" kid. 

At family gatherings now, we tend to reminisce about our childhoods and things we remember.  Lately we spend a lot of time talking about all the things I did wrong and all my crazy antics as a kid.  I think Nathan's strategy is to make himself look good by making me look bad. 

As we got a little older, we got along better.  He tried to teach me how to drive, except I forgot to take it out of park and just revved the engine thinking it would eventually go.  That was the end of my driving lesson.  He worked at a pizza place and would get off work at midnight and bring home pizza for us while we played cards with Marcy (his wife) and friends.  Sometimes we would go out to Lakewood for breakfast in the middle of the night. 

And now that we have our own families, we are still pretty close.  For all the trouble he caused growing up, he should have gotten rotten kids.  Oh, but he didn't (must be because Marcy was such a good kid).  They are all so sweet and kind and amazing. 

Front row, L to R: Nathan, Luke, Marcy. Back row L to R: Alexis, Jacob and Ashley

After the basketball game, we went to Portillo's for lunch (have I mentioned ever how much I love their chocolate cake??) and then to an indoor water park.  And after I expressed how unfair it was that he got such great kids, I did tell him that he was doing something right.  (It wasn't easy saying that out loud.)  Seriously, Alexis and Ashley are in school and have jobs and are in relationships and they are beautiful and are two of the sweetest girls I know.  Jacob plays excels at every sport he can get his hands on and is ridiculously smart (now if I could just get him to stop calling me MEG-an).  And Luke is just adorable and caring and cracks everyone up.  

His secret?  They do something as a family every weekend.  Now with the girls having jobs that require weekend work sometimes, they don't always get to participate (and they are disappointed when that happens).  It's something to look forward to and it's fun!

Nathan shared this with me: Take Vacations. You can always make more money.  You can't always make more memories. 

And it's so true, isn't it?  We only get our children for a time and then they are off to be young adults and grown ups with responsibility on their own.  And if you don't spend time together, what crazy stories (that tend to get a little crazier with every telling) will you share at family gatherings years from now?

37.9999/52

Last weekend's photography adventure was a ton of fun. As Carly mentioned, we went to an abandoned barn and then we went to this little area that is tucked away in my neighborhood.  The day was a little cold and windy, but we made it through with a little help from Starbucks.

This little spot is actually a rest stop for golfers.  For real, it's a bathroom.   They did a great job of dressing it up, didn't they?  This is the kind of stuff I love about photography adventures.  Finding extraordinary in the ordinary.  Framing the photo so that it looks like it could be some cottage nestled in a secluded countryside. So that later, when I look at the picture, I can imagine myself being there, at a cottage near the middle of nowhere. 

 

As I thought about Carly's post last week, I asked myself two questions:
What do I like to do?
What energizes me?

After being a mom for several years, I think it's easy to lose touch with what you love doing.  When the kids were young, a lot of my time was dedicated to taking care of them.  But now they are older and I don't have to wash their hair for them or cut up their dinner into tiny bite-size pieces.  So what did I like to do before I had them?  I think back to my career choice after high school - what I went to college for.  Fire Science and Safety.  I wanted to be a firefighter.  How is that for living on the edge?  I think there is something to looking around you; seeing the beauty and enormity of chaos and danger, but standing there with intense focus knowing that you are there to do something.  Something big.  While you're practically flirting with disaster.  

Aside from photography, I like to drive (fast) staying at or below the speed limit (because duh, my mom reads this blog).  That silver Versa that was featured in my blog for Week 36?  That car has a manual transmission.  Stick shift.  So when we bought an (automatic) SUV to replace the minivan, I immediately had two thoughts, "the girl who wrecks the minivan shouldn't drive the brand new SUV" and "I really like driving stick shift, so Brian, YOU take the SUV."

So every day, I get to feel a little bit like a race car driver.  That drives at or below the speed limit, of course.

Do you remember in Week 29 I told you about my repelling experience?  I also like to climb.  When Brian and I went to Door County, Wisconsin for our 15th anniversary, we went to Cave Point State Park.   This place was gorgeous.  As we explored the cliffs on Lake Michigan, I couldn't resist climbing on the rocks.  Handing my camera off to Brian, I could hear the edge in his voice, "be careful!" as he watched me scamper off.  But at that moment, there was nothing I wanted to do more than to scale down twenty feet of cliff and then make the climb to a rock like this one.  And I could have sat there all day.    

Cave Point State Park, 2012

What was awesome about the photography adventure with Carly last week was that she had the same wandering strategy I did at the locations we visited.  We'd walk around and hold up the camera, look through the lens, get closer or further and then wander some more.  Maybe all photographers have this strategy, but I haven't really done an adventure with another photographer before.  It was just a fantastic feeling to not be questioned about where I was going or feel awkward about having no sense of direction.  I could just be.

When Carly and I walked on the other side of the tunnel and saw all the rocks, I got that itch again.  So this formation wasn't nearly as tall, but it was still fun to climb up and down.  And well, since it's been a while since I've had my picture taken on a rock, it seemed like it was time. 

It's like this ledge was meant to be sat on!

On the edge.  Where I love being. 

Sometimes life is meant to be this kind of exciting!  Like being on a roller coaster at the very top before the almost ninety degree drop.  Especially the ones that suspend you there for a second before gravity carries you the rest of the way down.  The adrenaline, the waiting, the screaming!  And then you hear the click and you are released.  You throw your hands up and you don't know whether to laugh, scream or cry!  Once you catch your breath, you look at the person next to you and make sure they are still conscious and then you decide that you can't wait to do it again.  Isn't that the best??

37/52


Happy Monday y'all!  This week you get a bonus.  Two posts in one week.  I know, you're welcome.

Let me introduce you to my friend, Carly.  She's just plain amazing.  I admire so much about her - her quick wit and her honesty (and sometimes that combination has you staring back at her wide-eyed and shocked or doubling over in laughter).  I also appreciate her ability to really understand your feelings, even when you don't.  She loves to write and take pictures, so I wanted to give her an opportunity to do both without a lot of pressure.  Carly, thank you for sharing today on my blog! 



It recently came to my attention that I have stopped doing many of the things that I once enjoyed. I realized this, and immediately started to unpack it: Why wasn't I playing the piano anymore? Why wasn't I writing? Why wasn't I running? Why wasn't I tinkering with my camera in my free time? Why did I refuse to learn to play any video game with my husband that required command of not one, but both, of my thumbs simultaneously?


A nagging voice in my head answered for me: because you're not any GOOD at those things. (Oh, hey Nagging Voice, nice to see you again...hope you've been well...)

If you're like me, this might sound familiar. Many of us were pushed at a young age to participate in activities that we were good at. Sometimes, we enjoyed those activities. Other times, we just enjoyed being good at them. It could have been anything--sports, music, art. At the heart of it, a lot of these activities are competitive--so, to an extent, being "good" was a necessary evil. But at some point, some of these things that we may have had a natural talent for became hard. And not all people are motivated by challenge, because challenge can mean failure. For some, fear of failure is absolutely paralyzing. I'm one of those people. I was the softball player who, with one opportunity in three years to catch the perfect fly ball that was lobbed right at her, ducked out of the way.

While softball may not have been my calling, I did have a natural predilection toward the arts. I spent a lot of my childhood experimenting with art supplies, and later, playing the piano. I was born with some level of innate creativity that served me well at the start of these activities that eventually, I kind of outgrew. I still identify as the artsy person I once was, but I haven't actually done more than color in an adult coloring book or take amateur photos with my iPhone in upwards of 20 years. "Crafty" or "musical" would be the last words I'd use to describe myself now.


The second I stopped being praised for being ahead of the curve, in both art and music, I stopped enjoying both. In fact, I didn't even see art and music as hobbies anymore--they were chores. I still to this day remember the calendar I had to keep to log my piano practice. My teacher had us log 30 minutes a day, 6 days a week, and when we brought the sheet in to our next lesson, we got a sticker for the week. After so many stickers, we received a special reward. My teacher knew in the months leading up to me quitting that I had given up. She begrudgingly gave me my sticker every week after listening to me struggle through pieces I had clearly only just looked at the morning of my lesson. She knew I wasn't practicing. I knew I wasn't practicing. My mom, who had to initial my sheet, knew I wasn't practicing. This was A Very Bad Feeling.


What was the point of playing the piano if I wasn't good anymore? Being challenged--and failing--meant that I was less likely to practice, and less practice meant I was less likely to advance. My peers continued to hone their craft, and I became green with envy. After several attempts to persuade my parents to let me quit, I finally freed myself from the shackles of piano lessons. "You'll regret this," my parents warned. And, they were right. I do.

This habit of quitting or giving up on things I enjoyed would follow me into my adulthood. Photography, running, cooking...All things I enjoy, all things I worked at perfecting, and all things I have quit. If nothing else, at least I am consistent.


A friend asked me recently, "what do you like to do?" When I realized I could only answer what I used to like to do, I felt a pang of regret. I still like music and art, speaking as a casual observer of both, but...creating it? Participating in it? What if I fail?


So, I had a crazy thought. What if I stopped basing my enjoyment off of success? Or, if that's too abstract, what if I redefine "success" all together--what if "success" stops meaning "being good at something" and starts to mean having fun doing something? (Side note: Have you ever watched people dance at a wedding, or sing karaoke? Clearly, being "good" is not always a necessary factor in the equation!)

This weekend, Maegan was kind enough to let me tag along on a photography excursion with her. I used to love photography, but always felt mystified by the technical part. My camera is sub-par, I don't have fancy photo-editing software, oh, and I don't know the first thing about aperture or shutter speed. I will admit that I felt a bit of panic when I woke up on Saturday morning to an overcast sky. Without the natural intrigue of light, shadows, and contrast, will any of my photos turn out? I had to gently remind myself that my goal wasn't to take "good" pictures (although, good pictures would be a happy accident), but instead, to enjoy the experience. It was fun just to get out there, trespass on the property of a creepy, abandoned barn, and put on my Artist Hat to see beauty in unexpected things, like the dilapidated structures on this property. It may be a cliche, but it's the journey that counts.

Here are a few of my favorites.


Mastery, as it turns out, may not be the end-all, be-all that we make it. I encourage you to find something that you used to enjoy--and do it! If you enjoy it, isn't that enough?