There's Just Something About The Dirt

I grew up on a farm in southeastern Idaho and I am VERY grateful for the childhood I had. My siblings and I climbed stacks of hay bales and pulled each other around in the horse buggy (we got rid of the horses by the time I was in Jr. high so we had to do the pulling ourselves). We had picnics on the banks of the river...er, ditch. We played in and drank canal water--and lived to tell about it. We had our own clubhouse (a.k.a. the old chicken coop). We munched on fresh fruits and veggies from the garden. We put a million miles on our bicycles. I don't think I ever once played a video game.

I woke up most mornings to the sound of my dad getting ready to go out for the day. He'd spend countless exhausting hours on the farm during the summer months. From him, I learned the value of hard work. We were taught how good it feels when you work first and play later. I still feel that way. If only I could instill that value in my own children...

I still get excited about going home to visit the farm. The smells, the sounds, the dirt...yes, even the dirt...all bring back fond memories. The dirt is in my blood! We visited the farm for spring break and our "new" 4-Year-Old (D) got to ride with her grandpa for the first time while he planted grain. She was a little apprehensive at first, but when they came back from their first round, her grin was from ear to ear.

A Little Bit of Culture

I'm not a person that can sit still for very long. I guess that's why I was in trouble in school a lot. A teacher once told my mom at a Parent/Teacher Conference that he could stick me in the corner and I'd talk to myself. Another teacher put my desk in the closet so that I could still hear her, but I couldn't distract anyone. Another teacher put my desk outside the window. That was probably deserved. (Okay, if I'm being honest, they were probably all deserved.)

If I'm sitting, I'm doing something with my hands. Tapping, biting my nails, touching things... As a child, I drove my mom crazy because I would shred my paper napkins into little pieces while waiting for everyone else to finish their dinner so I could leave the table. (Seriously?!? EAT FASTER!)

Because I like to stay busy, we're always off on new adventures. Recently, we re-visited the LDS Church History Museum in Salt Lake City. (They will be closing it soon for major renovations, so visit soon if you plan to!) There are the obligatory historical displays, but there is also a children's area where we spend most of our time. Children's museums can be expensive, but this one is absolutely free. Ya can't beat free no matter how hard ya try.

I'm grateful for my middle son (B) who was willing to dress up and Latin dance with our 3-year-old (D) at one of the displays. The museum has life-size TV screens with dancers that teach you the moves. All the costumes are provided. Did I mention the museum is free?

I'm going to attempt to post a video to this blog for the first time. If it works, and my son finds out, I may have to buy his forgiveness. BUT, I'm confident that I can get away from him easier than someone else. Like my husband. If I were to post the pictures or videos of my husband dressed up (in the female dancer clothing--not the male kind, mind you) I might not live to see tomorrow.