Refugees of the Rodeo

Our tale begins in 1999. Brad had been romancing me for only a short while when he became a member of a band named Topaze and the Regency. 'The Regency' frequently displayed their talents at fine, upstanding, smoke-filled establishments. Being in love, I became a reluctant, second-hand smokin' groupie. It was not all hacking and blood shot eyes, though. There were good times. I really liked the members of The Regency and I loved their music. There were late nights at taco joints, Dead Goats, dancing, and one gay rodeo. I especially liked Mark Smith, the guitarist in the band.
There was just one problem, I was the only girlfriend.I sat alone many a Saturday night doing my best to deflect drunken ABGers.
One night, as I sat on the sidelines waiting for the show to begin, Mark brought over a pretty young thing, sat her down next to me and said, "This is my friend Emily". I liked Emily immediately. She was a girl after my own heart. She loved Anthroplogie, shoes, and Topaze and the Regency. I was often grateful to have a sober companion who enjoyed the music but also understood the woes of being a musician's girlfriend.
Brad and I eventually married. Emily and Mark continued to date and date and date. Topaze and the Regency eventually went their separate ways. It's a common tale, drugs, money, egos. OK, maybe not the money.
Brad and I moved to Salt Lake City. Mark built a house in Lehi. In June, 2002, Mark and Emily invited us to attend the Lehi Rodeo with them. We all enjoyed ourselves that night but I was not feeling well. The next week I discovered I was pregnant.
Time went by. In 2003 Mark and Emily married and Brad and I had a daughter. In 2004 we moved to Utah Valley. That year, we invited Mark and Emily to the Rodeo. Both Emily and I were big with child. Not only were we uncomfortable pregnant women, but halfway through the rodeo the heavens exploded with bone chilling rain. We stuck it out until we saw the bulls, my favorite part, but I swore I would never go to the rodeo pregnant again. 2005 brought Mark and Emily's turn to invite us to the rodeo. If I remember right we all had a good time. In June of 2006, Emily and I were pregnant once again but the rodeo was a tradition by this point.
It is June and 'the Rodeo' is once again upon us. It's hot, I'm breastfeeding, I feel I've payed my dues at the rodeo, besides I HATE calf roping. I'm hoping Emily is feeling the same way. Luckily she does, we decide on dinner at our house. I also invite Mark's sister Natalie and her husband because they are our Traverse Mountain friends. The moon was beautiful that night.


The conversation was delightful but often interrupted.

There was lots of salmon, roasted vegetables, cheese cake, yelling, crying, laughing and biting.
I think perhaps it was our best rodeo get together yet.

I Met My Old Lover On the Street Last Night...

OK, so Paul Simon was never my lover and we didn't meet on the street, well, we've actually never met, but our connection is real, it's real I tell you.
I was a sophomore in high school when I discovered the genius of Paul Simon. He's a little white man with an enormous amount of soul. This genius, I discovered, gave birth to a sort of crush. I call it a crush because I don't know what else to call it. I felt these waves of emotion when I heard his music, sometimes I cried, sometimes I had to dance. I held as an ideal what I perceived Paul to be, a quiet intellectual overflowing with art, wisdom, humor, curiosity and of course, soul.
I've grown older, I've married (now that I think about it I married someone a little like Paul, a musician, intellectual, soulful) and have a family. Since I've started my family I haven't thought about Paul that much until last night. There was a special on KUED. The Library of Congress was honoring Paul Simon. There was a concert with a number of artists paying tribute to Paul in both song (his songs) and word. All the old feelings came rushing back. I was once again 16 in my parents attic bedroom playing my father's records on the turn table.
At one point a gospel duo sang a rousing version of 'Gone at Last'. As they exited the stage they shouted, "We love you Paul!". It was all I could do to not yell out, "I love you Paul!". My husband was sitting next to me and as if he could hear my thoughts he said, "You think that old guy is sexy?".
I don't know, maybe it is sexiness or maybe I'm just grateful that there is a Paul and he has shared his talents with me. So, thank you Paul. Thank you for making me feel. You put words and rhythm to the emotions I can't articulate. You make me happy, think, grateful and boogie. I will always be a fan and I guess I too am still crazy after all these years.


Have you ever felt this way about someone or am I a lone weirdo?

Sunset, Ringlets and a Bucket

A few hot evenings ago we found our way to our south-east facing back yard to escape the setting western sun. The girls stripped and ran naked through the grass and sprinklers and occasionally took a turn in the pool.

Lulu decided the pool wasn't confining enough so she stuffed her self into a nearby bucket.
The light was beautiful, the breeze was gentle and the company content. For certain, these are pictures to smile over at a 2020 'Wright family slide show'. Not quite as awesome as Bobby with his guns and holster,for those of you that are familiar with Bobby's famous photo, but just as sweet.
I can't forget about my handsome men who were enjoying the evening and show as well.

A Hot Day and a Childhood Fantasy Realized

I'd always heard stories of men having conversations with women's breasts. I never could empathize until I went to Albertson's soon after I started breastfeeding my first child.
I knew that my breasts had grown 2 sizes but I didn't think much of it until it appeared that those 2 sizes were the difference between anonymity and being the feature attraction in the produce, meat and baby isles.
I went home feeling ashamed and dirty. With each child breastfed I've struggled between feeling pretty and too sexy. Today's fashion seems to accentuate the bust area but
wearing an extra large moo moo will not disguise the fact that your bosoms protrude a good 6 inches past your ribs. I have a brother in-law who says he prefers the fashions of the eighties(when he was in school) b/c the boys never knew the size of their co-eds breasts b/c they wore loose tops. I say BS, I was in junior high and high school during the 80's and early 90's and the 'young men' with whom I was educated knew, discussed and teased every girl and her cup size despite the Coca-Cola rugbies and Flash dance sweat shirts, (these more accurately would have been popular in the early 80's but I grew up in the time warp known as Crosby, Minnesota, they probably still peg their pants there).
So Anyway, yesterday Norah talked me into running through the sprinklers with her while Lulu and Abram were napping. I even put on a swimsuit and felt like a busty fool until I saw this picture. One of my childhood idols was Wonder Woman. She was beautiful. I dreamed of one day being her. She had the ultimate feminine figure, she kicked butt and she was a raven haired goddess. Until yesterday I never thought I resembled her in anyway.

Now thanks to my milk-filled breasts and raven hair I'm a sexy super hero, at least in my back yard.
I've gotta get some gold cuffs.

My Brown Eyed Boy

I was disappointed to find that I was pregnant March of 2006. My first two children were closer then I had anticipated and I had promised my midwives, my mother and myself that I would wait longer the next time around.
Pregnancy and deliveries are not my forte. I started later in life then most Mormon moms and although I would consider my early 30's to be the prime of my life thus far, my body was asking why I didn't have children 10 years ago.

My pregnancy with Abram was a tough 9 months. I often found myself saying to anyone that would listen, "This baby had better be worth it".
I was a little nervous about having a boy, would I love him as much as I loved my girls? It wasn't going to be nearly as much fun to dress him.The day of Abram's birth arrived. As the midwife lay him on my stomach two large saucer-like eyes peered up at me, my hard heart melted.Abram has the most patient, sweet disposition. He only cries when really ticked off, hums himself to sleep every night and eats all his vegetables and rice cereal. My angelic Abram was absolutely worth 9 hard months.
Now if I could just get him to sleep longer than 2 hrs at a time.

Sweet and Sassy Lulu

Lulu's name isn't really Lulu. Officially, it is Lucia Louise, but she doesn't know it.
Like Norah, Lucia's meaning is light. Unlike Norah Lulu looks just like my baby pictures, although I don't believe I grew up to be as beautiful an adult as Lulu is a child.Lulu's hair is a hue that belongs solely to children and even the best beautician cannot replicate it. At about 16 months, when she was done breastfeeding, Lulu developed a wicked ear infection that seemingly lasted for 14 months. A month ago a drowsy Lulu underwent a short surgery to be fitted with tubes. A new child emerged from that surgical room.
Lulu is stubborn, sassy, affectionate and loves to boogy. She has a squeal that could wake the dead and a seriously deep voice for a 2 1/2 year old.Her nemesis is the spider and she loves ice cream and her 'B'(blanket). Her Father and I never tire from laughing while watching her run. She has soulful eyes, a bewitching smile and I cannot help but love my Lulu.

Norah's Light

Norah was born on a rainy day in March. She didn't arrive without complications. It took just about all I had to bring her into the world. Brad knew his first would be a daughter and she looked just like him.
Norah is now 4 years old. She is curious, bright, busy and loving. She dances, sings, draws brilliant pictures and has the most vivid imagination.Norah is never at a loss for words. She loves all things pretty and always stops to smell the roses, dahlias and daisies, even though the latter 2 don't smell like anything.Norah's favorite things to say are "I love Jesus, Mommy", "You made me sad"and "I'm going to marry Daddy". The definition of 'Norah' is light. Since March of 2003 our family and home have been filled with brilliant, out of this world, light. There is absolutely no hiding it under a bushel. I love you Norah.

Thanksgiving Indeed

The phone rang rather early yesterday morning. My neighbor and friend wanted to know if we would join her at Thanksgiving point's Discovery Garden. We used to be frequent visitors to the gardens when we were new to Traverse Mountain.
Recently, however, I have hesitated to take my children to frolic in the shallow waters of Noah's Ark. For one, it is much more crowded then it was 3 years ago. 2nd, I have more children then I used to and sometimes find it difficult to keep them all in sight.Last, with every visit to the water of the Ark came grave consequences. My children, like most unknowing young tots, drink the water. Soon after swallowing Noah's water, everything they ingested would pass through them at the speed of light.Yesterday morning I decided to end my boycott of the Discovery Gardens and join my friends. My children were in need of some fun and I was in serious need of adult female conversation, especially if it involved Brooke and Belinda. So on went the swimsuits and off we went. The sun was hot, the water cool and the conversation delightful. Even Abram patiently endured the sun and light housewife chatter.So thank you Thanksgiving Point for the opportunity to be grateful.

Dear Daddy

Dear Daddy, this post is for you. Father's day is oh so short so let us count the ways we love you on Tuesday the 12th.We love your big hands and strong arms. We love your soft lips and kind smile.
We love your dancing and your drums. We love your songs and your guitar. We love the water you put in our pool. We love the elevator at your office. We love the candy there too.
We love your wit and your humor. We love your stories and your hugs.
We love your trail mix, the nuts and the chocolate ba ba's. We love your wrestling, yoga and gymnastics.
We love your protection from spiders, monsters and witches. We love taking a ride to look at castles. Most of all, we love hearing the garage door open in the evening signaling your arrival because we just love to be with you.