The family that plays together . . .

Early on in our marriage it became apparent that both Dixon and I were on the same page with regards to how we'd spend our money. We both prefer going and doing to having, though I know this baffles more than a few of the people we know.
















It wasn't that we sat down one day and said to each other, "lets always have hand me down couches and drive cars that leak oil, so we can afford to take great vacations," but rather it was a subconscious decision that while stuff could wait; fun could not.

It all began---a scant four months into our wedded bliss---when I saw a notice about a study abroad program in Mexico.

"Wouldn't that be a blast?" I asked Dixon (Note: in the 80's we said things like this---now it would be "wouldn't that be sweet?").

He agreed it would be, and so we applied and were selected as the only married couple to spend winter block doing an intense nine credit Spanish program in Mexico. Pell grants covered our tuition, and we scraped together every penny we could find to cover the rest of the expenses---never mind that we didn't own (and really could have used) a car, and our sole furniture possessions were my old canopy bed and a card table and 4 chairs. Those, along with our other meager belongings, went into storage, and off we went. The tuition bill for the next semester (and the 8 that were still to follow) could wait. We'd figure it out later.

That trip was a blast, and we've never regretted it.

A couple of years later, when our firstborn was about six months old, we packed up the car (we finally owned one by then) and headed for Yellowstone. Again, never mind that we had two years of school left and were living on a continual shoestring. We fished and camped and hiked and thoroughly enjoyed the splendor of the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone. By the end of the trip we were hooked on both national parks and annual vacations.

Since then our family has visited Yellowstone again as well as the Grand Canyon, Yosemite, Devils Tower, Mt. Rushmore, the Oregon coast, and Arches National park. In a previous blog, I mentioned that we've also visited Disneyland 5 times as a family. We've explored China Town, ridden the trolley, driven down Lombard street and walked all over San Francisco. We've splashed in the surf at warm and cold beaches. We've visited the Jelly Belly and Mrs. Grossman's sticker factories. We've had Christmases at Grandpa's cabin in northern Arizona, and we've panned for gold in the Uinta mountains. We've played far and wide, long and hard. And I think that is so very important.

Last summer in addition to the oil leak, our van developed a new problem---the air conditioner quit. For the price of a new compressor (around $700) we could get it fixed. That I chose not to has even had my husband shaking his head. But as I saw it, keeping the windows rolled down meant we had the funds for another vacation. For me it wasn't much of a choice. I cut my hair shorter in the summer and do my errands early in the day. And we still get our vacation.

This past week was that vacation. With my Dad and his family and my two sisters and their families, we spent five fun-filled days at Zion's Ponderosa Ranch Resort in southern Utah. And it was both a blast and sweet--- and worth every moment spent in the hot van this summer.

We hiked and swam, rode horses and atv's. We soaked in the hot tub and screamed as we ziplined off a three story barn. We played ping pong and paintball. We laughed at the outdoor musical and at each other. We ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner together all week. We sang along to Abba and John Denver as we drove in the car. In the immortal words of Styx, it was the "best of times."

Like many families today, we've had our share of "the worst of times." There have literally been weeks and even months when I've felt as if Satan and his angels surrounded our home, their arrows flying as they tried to break apart our family. We've had to hold tight---tighter than I ever could have imagined---to keep from losing our precious children to the influences of the world. And while we're not out of the woods yet, I can't help but feel that playing together---along with praying together and working together---goes a long way in keeping our family close.

As we drove home, the five days spent together were already morphing into memories. From the back seat I heard . . .

"Remember when we were playing shark in the pool and Mom was it, and she grabbed some kid who isn't in our family?" Giggle. Giggle.

"Remember when Craig wolfed down his whole T-bone steak in less than two minutes?" Looks of disgust from the girls.

"Remember when Spencer was catching air on his atv?" Disapproval on parents' faces.

"Remember when Hannah shocked us all by doing the zipline not once, but three times?" High five to newly-brave Hannah, sitting in the back seat.

"Remember when we dumped water on Aunt Amber and she didn't figure out it was us?" Snicker. And unless she reads this blog, she still won't know :)

"Remember during paintball when that kid on the other team said he was gonna take out Mom, and she took him out instead?" Sheepish look on my face---no doubt it was a lucky shot.

And so the memories go. And back at home, the hard times come once more. But I have last week's memories of a close, fun-loving family to sustain me. My children have those memories too. And at some point in the future, when perhaps one of them is on the precipice, choosing whether to follow the world or us, I believe the memories of all those good times we've had will come flooding back. I hope they'll see that their parents loved them enough that we not only worked, prayed, read scriptures, and went to church together, but we took the time and made the effort to play. I'm counting on that old adage about playing together and staying together to hold true.