Monthly Archives: April 2013



I do love going out and about with my children. And the area I live in is bursting with fun outdoor activities. Recently I took my kids over to Zion National Park, because I could basically, and enjoyed every minute of it. We went on only one hike, but that was fine. We just enjoyed time together. I also like to write, which isn’t really a surprise considering that I’m writing this now. However, I recently entered a kind of fun writing challenge with a brief entry on my most recent trip to Zion and I thought I’d share that here.

I love the way the sun shines on the red rocks of the valley. I can’t see it from here, but I know that the arch below me is catching the light and highlighting the way the shadows play in it’s depths. As my children run on the rocks a few hundred feet off the ground I try not to look at how close they get to the edge. The fence is only at the flat place between the two sides of the mountain, and even that doesn’t seem like it would stop a six year old running full steam. I take a deep breath and try to find the windows in the side of the mountain near us. I know that tunnel, the number of times I’ve driven through it I should know where all the windows are, but I’m not used to looking at it from this angle and I can only find two of them. It’s getting hot and I want to move to the shade. I look once more at the breathtaking views and call for the children to hurry and take one more picture before we head back to the car.


Of Blankies and Memories


My daughter has this blanket, we call it Blankie, that has been with her since she was born. I don’t know when it is exactly that she became so attached to it, but she has. She is six now, and if I’d let her I’m pretty sure that she would take it to school with her. I call her my Linus baby because she sucks her thumb and carried her blanket with her almost where ever she goes.


Like this, but with long blond hair and a multicolored blanket

Her blanket has been worn through, more than once. When it got to the point that we could no longer sew it back together, my mother and I sat down to make a “sleeping bag” for Blankie. I took Boo to the fabric store and let her and Blankie pick out the fabric that she wanted. We ended up with two different fabrics, one blue with cartoon cat faces in circles all over it, the other white with pink roses. She even picked the binding and the yarn with which to tie it. We spent all afternoon one Saturday when she was about three and a half sewing Blankie into a new covering.

That night, when it came time for bed she asked to have Blankie taken back out. When I told her I couldn’t take Blankie out she started throwing a fit. She told me that I had “Killed Blankie!” and was inconsolable for the better part of the evening. I finally ended up cutting a whole in one fo the corners so that she could still feel and see that Blankie was indeed there.

I still have issues on whether I should laugh at the whole thing (killing Blankie) or if I should cry for causing such heart ache and pain for my baby girl. Honestly, it depends on the day.

Shortly before this incident she had gone to visit her dad and had accidentally left Blankie at grandmas house when they left. It took almost a week to get it back. That was not a pleasant time. She was crying and moaning and checking the mail every day to see if Blankie had come. It was heart breaking to watch. And I’m sure very stressful for her.

We are well on our way to wearing out Blankie’s new coverings, the fabric is wearing thin around the binding and in the places where my daughter rubs it, and I don’t know that we will ever get it completely clean. Lately she has taken to calling the washer “evil” and saying that Blankie doesn’t want a bath. This has helped in keeping Blankie from wearing down as quickly as she is more careful about getting “her” near sources of dirt, like the egg dye from Easter and dragging behind her on the scooter.

At times I wonder if I’ve been a bit too lax with Blankie, but then I think, she’s happy, it’s not hurting anything. And, tucked in a box in my closet is an old purple and white check blanket that still smells of cabbage patch doll and sunshine that I loved very much as a little girl. And it makes me smile.