Swimming in St. George

Sweet waffles, our photographer must have been delirious and did not
realize she did not get any good pictures of two of her five children.
Poorly played lady who usually takes 487 pictures per event. Poorly played.

My grandma

Without question, one of the hardest parts of living so far away from family, was not being able to see my grandma (who I am extremely close to) for almost three years. We talk each day on the phone, but not being there to see her every few months or to be a part of her special events was hard.

So within days of moving to Utah, we decided a road trip was in order. And St. George was the destination. My grandma's house in St. George to be precise.

And it was a wonderful two days we were able to fit in. More posts on other fun details to come, but just being with our grandma was fabulous and way too long in coming.

We love you Gram! Thanks for having us and we can't wait to come back again soon.

More pictures from the wedding

Grumpy anyone? This is by far the best I could get of our Nate baby.
Not that I blame him. After all, moving an eighteen-month old across the

country to a new house, new time zone, new everything and expecting him to

understand...well, let's just say we are hoping for some kind of adjustment

 before he turns two. Three at the latest. Okay, before Kindergarten for sure.

And the reason we moved a few days early...

Honestly these two are not only fabulous, but aren't they darling?

We were so grateful to be a part of their wedding day.

And this here would definitely sum of their relationship. Danny and Camie are just awesome.
And lucky for us, they are family, so we get to be a part of their awesomeness for a long time to come.

(Incredible pictures taken by my darling sister-in-law Taunya. She is an absolutely amazing photographer.)

Did I mention?

We arrived in Utah and had a couple of days to settle in, as much as that is possible in a couple of days. I wish I could say that it feels normal and natural. It doesn't. And that is okay. It will in time. But for now, we will just keep feeling like we are on vacation. After all, we kind of are for the time being.

So now that we have been here a couple of days, we decided to take a ride to visit a bunch of dirt.

Exciting no? Actually, it was for us.

Did I mention we were building a new home? No? Well then, we are. Because who doesn't want

to move across the country, have a sixth baby and build a new home in one year? Not us for sure.

But with the craziness of moving and all that it involves, we haven't been able to focus much on

the new house. Enough to buy the lot, choose a house plan, put down money to the builder
and sign more papers than I ever really wanted to sign in my whole life. But otherwise...

The view from one side of our lot. 

And the view from the other side. 

Pretty good pick for not seeing it beforehand me thinks. 

 

 Our visit made things seem kind of real. Like we are building a house or something.

Which we are.

Did I mention that?

Saying goodbye

It is hard to believe almost five years have come to an end here. Sometimes I have the words

to express how I am feeling, sometimes I do not. This is definitely one of those times I do not.

I don't think I have ever felt anything close to the way I do today. This place has changed me to

the very core of my being. It has brought our family closer than I could ever have imagined. 

It was harder than anything I would ever wish for, yet I would not trade it for anything. 

It has brought me to my Savior in ways that continually bring tears to my eyes. 

I'm so immensely grateful. And never want to forget.

Goodbye Boston.

Documenting moving day

It is 9:34am and the movers will be here right close to ten. We are completely ready. 

And for that I am grateful. But nonetheless, all of this feels so very strange.

This is how much bubble wrap we have left. Pretty good planning yes? Or just big time luck. 

This is everything from the basement.

And this is everything from the second floor. 

And this is everything from the main floor. 

(Except the furniture. I don't mean to be misleading, so please imagine five beds, one crib,
one couch and chair, one love seat and chair, one dining room table with chairs, one library table
with chairs and a few small bookcases and nightstands. Okay, now I feel better.)

And finally, this is everything ready for the plane. (Well, not the desk. That was in the house
when we moved in and will be staying here when we leave.) All of this will get all seven
of us through the next eight or nine days. (Or so we thought. Story coming soon.)

Ready or not...moving day is here.

This morning

This morning, I stood at the mud room door watching the kids wait for the bus. There definitely isn't anything unusual about that. I've seen the same view (with varying degrees of leaves, snow, rain, sun) from this exact spot hundreds of times in the past (almost) five years. But this morning everything seemed different.

We are moving. And with every part of my heart I know it is what we are supposed to do. I don't know why and often during the past many days, I don't know how. But it is what the Lord has asked us to do. And if there is one thing I have learned in the last 36 years of being on this earth, it is that His plan is always better than my plan. Sometimes they are the same, sometimes they are not. But I am perfectly confident which one is better.

I can't quite wrap my mind around this move, even with it so very close. I don't know why. Maybe because I am feeling too many emotions at once--excited, scared, sad, happy, exhausted, overwhelmed, peaceful and mostly just gratitude.

Gratitude for the past five years, gratitude for the years ahead and gratitude that our Heavenly Father is kind enough to make His will known. And let His imperfect children try their best to follow. Even when their hearts don't fully understand everything they might want to. But their spirits know, deep down, that it really doesn't matter in the end. Because the knowledge that He knows is enough.

The view may change, but He does not. How blessed I feel to know that this morning.

Grateful for mine

When I am out and about by myself, I get asked on a very regular basis if this baby is my first. And even though I know people are asking because here on the east coast where we live, it is very common to be expecting your first baby at my age, it still does something to my self worth. I mean really, whether it is true or not (it's not), I can pretend they are asking because I look so incredibly young and energetic and rested.

But if you haven't heard, we are moving to Utah in a very short period of time. And I am pretty positive that the assumption that this is my first baby isn't going to be happening. (Especially as I'm quite confident the last three or four months have added about ten years to my whole self.) Neither is the absolute shock (and look of horror/astonishment/awe/annoyance) that follows my reply that this is our sixth baby likely to happen.

If anyone had told me twenty, ten, five or even one year ago that I would be the mother of six kids, I would have laughed. And told them they were crazy. But here we are.

And I am so incredibly grateful.

I truly believe that I, personally, was put on this earth to be a mother and wife. And feel thankful beyond words that that is exactly what I get to do with my time. Even when I'm quite a big mess at times--like the past few months. Gratefully, my mothering motto says nothing about perfection. Only about continuing to try and loving these kids and husband of mine like crazy. And relying on the Savior to make up the rest. I'm so thankful He always does.

Yes, I am expecting our sixth baby. But sometimes, when the question is posed to me, I want to answer that yes, it is our first. Because it feels that exciting and that special and that wonderful to me. 

What a crazy, wonderful, loud, unexpected, hilarious, exhausting, joyful, beautiful ride.

Our kids' teachers

We are so grateful for our kids' teachers!

Honestly, I don't know how we have been so blessed for so many years, but this year was no exception when it came to our kids having incredible teachers. I was at the elementary school the other day and had to grab a photo of Annie and Matt with their fabulous teachers.

And although I do draw the line at going to the middle school to take pictures of Campbell with his teachers (which I'm sure he is extra grateful for), he also had some amazing ones. And Ben has absolutely loved preschool and his four teachers are truly and completely awesome.

What an amazing year for all of them. And how incredibly grateful this mom is for those that spent hours each weekday with our children and made their school days full of learning and security and fun. We are so blessed.

Goodbye parties

Who wouldn't want to host four goodbye parties in one day? Not us for sure. Especially as that is exactly what we did yesterday.

Each of the kids wanted to have a small get-together with a few friends before we moved. And because our time here is limited and we really didn't have a lot of available evenings, we decided to schedule them all in the same day. And it worked out remarkably well. (Even with the complete exhaustion I felt at about 10pm last night.)

Ben had his during the day with just a few of his preschool buddies. Oh the cuteness of seven five-year olds for two hours. They played inside, outside and with great enthusiasm. They were so funny and sweet and Ben felt so excited to feel like one of the big kids.

Matt's party started right about dinnertime. Seven of his buddies from school showed up and spent every second of the two hours in the backyard. I finally took the pizza and drinks out to them so that they didn't go home starving. Oh man, they were fun to have.

Annie's party started about an hour after Matt's. She had some fabulous crafts planned, as well as pizza and drinks for dinner also, and she and her six friends from school spent all two hours of their time inside. If noise level equal happiness, those girls were happy.

And Campbell's friends started to arrive just as Matt's friends were leaving. They also spent every second they could outside--playing soccer and eating pizza when they got hungry--until it was too dark to see anything else. Then they came in as Annie's friends were leaving and they talked and laughed and watched soccer and just enjoyed being together.

It truly was such a fun night for everyone! And although it was pretty crazy and intense as far as how many hours we spent in party mode, it really was pretty seamless and everyone enjoyed it. So win-win for all.

Actually, make that win-win-win-win. And one more win for how deeply all of us slept last night.

The injured Allens

Our kids have been playing sports for years, but gratefully, we have been injury free (at least anything major) the whole time. Until this season. Within the last three weeks, Campbell injured his back to the point that he has been attending physical therapy and cannot finish the soccer season. Then Matt injured his knee to the point that the doctor said he was out for the season. They were both pretty disappointed, but the pain was bad enough they are willing to take it easy for a few weeks.

In addition, Jacob has been attending physical therapy for weeks due to a knee injury while running.

We are a bit of a mess at this house. I haven't been to a physical therapist or anything (well, except to take Cam), but I'm just a disaster due to expecting our sixth baby, being old and the stress of moving across the country. So only Nate, Annie and Ben are injury free at our house.

Or so I thought.

I came around the corner to this sight the other day. Ben had hit has head on a drawer a few days before and seemingly it was still a little sore. But nothing a cold pack won't fix apparently.

I wonder if we can get a deal at physical therapy. Buy two, get one free maybe? And I'm sure they have a whole bunch of exercises they recommend for a bump on your head.

Good gravy. Injuries abound at our house. Or hypochondria. Or both.

A year and a half

This baby boy is eighteen months old today. Everyone says it, but that is because it is true...

time flies and they grow up before you can blink. How we love our Nathan.

The post that really has no purpose...but when did that stop me?

It is Cinco de Mayo and so, appropriately, I would like to talk about soda. Now don't pretend that the two are not related, because I really can't think of two things that are more related. Okay, fine, it's a stretch. But not as much as you might think, if you stick with this story until the end.

(If you don't, I really can't blame you. I can't guarantee I'm going to stick with it and I'm the one writing it.)

Some background.

Our family is definitely not a family of soda drinkers. Soda just isn't something Jacob or I grew up drinking, so we don't really think about it most of the time. And it seldom occurs to us to buy it. Oh of course, sometimes the kids want it for their birthdays or for a special occasion and we are fine with that, but they really don't ask for it more than a few times a year and we don't think about getting it, so soda very seldom enters our home.

Except when I'm pregnant. And with each pregnancy I will crave soda three or four times throughout the pregnancy. I have no idea why, but I know it has happened each time and this pregnancy has been no exception.

Several weeks back, Jacob and I were grocery shopping. And I started to think how good soda sounded. And the more I thought about it, the better it sounded. But then I remembered that quite often, soda sounds like something I want, but when I actually drink some, it completely disappoints. So I didn't really know if I wanted to buy it or not.

And then I walked down the aisle to get some salsa and tortillas.

I had forgotten that our grocery store has an aisle dedicated to delicious Hispanic food. And that aisle has soda in glass bottles, like you would purchase in Latin America. And while I would never say their soda is good for you, I actually like the list of ingredients much more than that of the soda you buy here in this fine country of ours. I am NOT a fan of high fructose corn syrup--no matter how much anyone tries to convince me it is no different than sugar. I'm not saying sugar in soda is especially great for you, but to me, it is the better alternative.

(Now that last paragraph is a tad ironic, since I feel as strongly about dyes in food as I do about high fructose corn syrup, but you could probably figure out from the above photo that this particular soda would have to have dyes in it.)

(Sometimes I'm a hypocrite.)

(With yellow 6 and red 40 running through her system.)

So I thought I would give it a try and purchased a bottle that looks a whole lot like the picture you see above.

You. Guys.

That soda is GOOD STUFF. Oh man, I wish I had known this sooner, for the two or three times a year (multiply that times two when I am pregnant) I crave it. The taste is so much more subtle and so much less fake. It was so good I went back and got another bottle a few weeks later. Yup, I'm only 18 weeks pregnant and I've had soda twice already. What has come over me?

Delicious soda that tastes like what soda should taste like, that's what.

(By the way, Jacob also tasted some and the minute he did he told me, "Finally, what soda should taste like." I think that taste took him back to the soda he would occasionally buy on his mission and during his travels to Latin America.)

Okay, there you go. My tribute post to Cinco de Mayo. Why the soda they make in Latin America is incredibly superior to what they sell here. Fascinating isn't it?

I didn't think so either.

But it does make me want to have another bottle of soda. Good thing it is Sunday, because I'm too tired to drive to the story anyway.

But tomorrow, all bets are off.

This boy LOVES his daddy

Coping, chocolate and possible crying

It is the month of May and how we got here I could never tell you. I find myself taking slow and deep breaths this morning when I truly think about all we have ahead of us in the very few days we have until we leave here. I know we will make it, but the list of things to do before that time makes me feel like I could sit in a corner and cry. And eat chocolate. And cry.

So in one of my favorite forms of coping, I'd like to change the subject.

Can you stand the cuteness of this little baby growing into little boy?

I can't. And he, his five siblings and his dad are why everything I need to do
this month is manageable. Okay, manageable may be too strong of a word.
How about survivable? That's it. We are moving, ready or not.
And I will survive it. Most likely. I'm pretty sure. Very possibly.


*Update: Oh you kind people. I'm sorry to worry you. I was being mostly funny
when I wrote this post, but you sent so many emails of concern and kindness,
I figured I'd better let you know I am just fine, truly. Just the same feelings
I have every time we move--wondering how to make it all work. But it always
does. Thank you for being so kind to me! Sweet chicken I have fabulous friends.

Leadership

This past Friday night, we were at the elementary school for an activity for Annie and were all waiting in line outside to get into the school. Matt had found several of his friends and they were running races off to the side to entertain themselves during the wait. I looked over a few times and noticed Matt seemed to be the one deciding the details of all of the races.

I shook my head and teasingly said to Campbell, "Good gravy, we have bossy kids."

Cam smiled and replied, "And that is why we are so great."

I responded, "You all are great, but I don't think it is because you are bossy."

To which Cam replied, "Actually Mom, I prefer not to call it bossy. I prefer to call it leadership."

This man

This man is one incredible soccer coach. And one incredible dad.
And one incredible husband. But mostly, one incredible person.

How I love him.

Nate's last sideline soccer season in MA

Ben's last soccer season in MA

Matt's last soccer season in MA