the past weekend was nothing short of a whirlwind. it usually is when we take a trip up to utah in 3 days. knowing it would be crazy as usual, we were debating whether to go at all. but i just really felt we should. so we did. and it was wonderful. for so many reasons.

i wish i had photographic proof of all those wonderful reasons but some [frantic and rushed to get out the door] lady managed to pack her camera but left the battery charging in the wall at home. nice. oh well.

one of the highlights of the weekend was being able to attend a mission reunion in celebration of the dedication of the spain madrid temple. i can't believe it has been 10 years since i was there. so many memories. it was an amazing experience to walk into a room of missionaries i served with and have those memories flood over me again as i saw their faces. there is just something about the relationships you create as a missionary. it is a connection different from any other. a connection that is bound by the spirit you felt together as you prayed, taught, laughed, cried, and loved. so grateful for these friends who made such an impact on my life.

i got all nostalgic again and started looking through old mission pictures. remembering people, places, and experiences.

like the temple dedication
 

yeah, you. guess what? i'm turning you over.

organization is not my forte. my closets and drawers will rat me out. i'm great at shoving things here and there. buying more laundry baskets hoping they will do magic. sorting piles into…more piles. and saying to myself on a daily basis "i'll do that later."

honestly, the only time my house really gets clean is when someone is coming over. jeff has said on more than one occasion, you know, we really should have people over more often. that's subliminal for…why don't you clean this place up? 😉

most days i feel like i'm drowning in a sea of mismatched socks and underwear while surfing on legos and crushed cracker crumbs. and if you don't believe me, i dare you to come over to my house at this very moment. no really, i triple dog dare you.

so i came across a tidbit the other day that i hope has the power to change my world. self-help stuff is out there everywhere and it's always great to read but i need it simple. if it overwhelms me, it's a no go. but this Daily 7 routine screamed "you can do this!" and i think i can. oh wait. do or do not. there is no try.
this totally together journal has loads of promising info. check it out.
anyway, here is where i'm going to start.

Number 1: Make Beds Right Away
this means that lincoln can be my alarm clock no longer. when he came into our lives with his unruly sleeping patterns, the early morning me checked out. i need to go find her.

Number 2: Do One Complete Load of Laundry
this means i need to love the laundry, embrace the laundry, be the laundry.

Number 3: Empty All Garbage Cans
i used to think that once i got married i would inherit a new appliance–the automatic-garbage-taker-outer. don't get me wrong, he does a fantastic job. but let's face it, i have two hands and so do my kids.

Number 4: Keep Your Kitchen Sink Empty
this means i need to get over my phobia of emptying the dishwasher. why is it so much easier to fill it than empty it. why? (clenching fists in the air) why?

Number 5: Clean Up After Yourself and Help Children Do the Same
this means i need to hang up my clothes right away. no draping them over chairs or making so-called neat piles on the floor. i've struggled with this since the womb. maybe i just got too comfortable with that umbilical cord being all over the place. this one will take all the will-power in the world to change. i must summon the force.

Number 6: Bathroom Wipe-Down
this means just exactly that. the road to a dirty bathroom is paved with good intentions. i have a container of clorox wipes under every counter…what a novel idea to use them!

Number 7: Before Bed 10-Minute Clean Up
this means two things. a quick bedroom sweep up by the kids. and i need to unlock the 50 pound chains of exhaustion that bind me once i've put them to bed and close their doors. maybe i'll dangle a popsicle reward in front of me to make it happen.

it remains to be seen if i am going to sink or swim with this. gonna give it my best effort but also realize that it's okay to have a **subject to change without notice** disclaimer. wish me luck or better yet, nightly popsicles!

my mom and dad were in town visiting a couple of weeks ago. i think one of the highlights of each visit is when the doorbell rings and the kids run screaming with anticipation and excitement toward the front door. grandma and grandpa come bounding in with laughter and smiles. then grandpa does the gup-gup jump–usually holding someone in his arms (used to be me oh so long ago). then more laughter and hugs and kisses all around.

this visit wasn't too different from the usual. but something odd got into me. maybe it was because my mom was folding and putting away all of my laundry or that my dad was outside in the backyard planting me a garden. but one afternoon, it was sort of like the powers of freaky friday decided to take me back. way back to the cherie with a mushroom haircut and jelly shoes.

i found myself upstairs digging through a box looking for my little friends. the ones that filled my childhood with adventures and make believe. they were loyal buddies. when i found them it was as if i was just making sure that the 6-year-old in me was still alive and well. she is.

i loved them then. and still do.

i came across a picture i took a while ago.

i have no idea why i took it. maybe because it looked artistically interesting. or maybe because i thought it ironic that it was in the middle of the street in downtown beverly hills. but in any case it got me thinking.

it's no secret that i have been feeling a little down in the dumps about my body lately. i believe it is part of the human existence to struggle with frailties of the flesh. it can come in many forms whether it be disability, illness, disease, infertility, weight, eating disorders, pain, aging…you get the idea.

as i look at myself in the mirror as of late, i feel like my body is falling apart at a young age. i've had way too many trips to the hospital to deal with the pesky blood clot and yet another one last week to check up on the vile beast that refuses to leave me be. i feel pretty much like bill murray in groundhog day when i go through the same old same old. by now i have the explanation down pat as i recite my plight to doctors, nurses, ultrasound techs, and doomsdayers.
yes, i've had the clot for 7 years.
no, it still hasn't dissolved.
yes, i've been on meds for it.
no, i'm not dead yet.
yes, i'm a mystery.
and oh, that's really too bad that your aunt's cousin's brother-in-law's nephew died from a blood clot while playing tennis. (i really do care. but these stories just seem to come out of the woodworks, you know? 🙂 )

i think that hardest part of it all is feeling like your goals and dreams might be slipping through your fingers because your body is holding you back. as the clock ticks on for me, it seems like the hopes of running more marathons or just even around the block are farther away than ever. my shoes haven't hit the pavement in years. the runner's high i used to live for has all but disappeared.

then i remembered.

i remembered a visit i had with my doctor recently. he was going through the normal check up stuff. listening to my lungs then my heart when he stopped and asked, "are you a runner?"
my voice was sadly hesitant, "i used to be."
he replied assuredly, "well, from what i can hear, you have a runner's heart." 
it was almost as if the euphoria of finishing a race swept through me again. "really?" i thought. i had been told that a long time ago but so much has happened since then.

now as i look in the mirror and make sense of the present and the past me, i take more resolve. more courage to overcome my setbacks. more patience with who i am. and more desire to accomplish my dreams when the time is right. 

and even if my legs don't believe it.
my heart still does.