by Darla Jones

GUEST COLUMNIST

Life is what happens when you are making other plans.

Throw in children and, well, it's what I call "Life in 3-D"

One morning last week, my husband and I were making spontaneous plans to go into Salt Lake. Before going, however, he wanted to run the sprinklers for the first time this season. You know, dampen the grass a little; smell the fragrance of wet cement; get ready for the first mow.

Fifteen minutes after attempting to turn on the sprinklers, my husband entered the house and informed me that, one of our children sometime between the months of November and May, decided to drop a rock into the pipe that gives access to the sprinkler shut-off valve, and then -- for reasons known only to children -- pounded it down with a rake handle, ensuring a secure fit! And the only way to turn on the sprinklers this year (or any year henceforth, for that matter) was to dig six feet down to remove and replace the pipe.

So, instead of going into Salt Lake, I spent the day without water as my husband dug himself into a six foot hole -- literally.

Not a really good time to remind him that life is what happens when you are making other plans.

On another afternoon (in the same week as the pipe incident, I may add), our family had plans to go into Salt Lake. As I got myself ready, I could hear my children playing gleefully, cheerfully and happily. Somewhere, in the deep pit of my stomach, I was being warned that the joyful noise was just a cover-up for something bigger than just good old-fashioned childhood fun.

To my shock and horror, my children had conveniently "found" an 8' x 4' piece of styrofoam insulation. There they were, my sweet little young ones, delighting in their ingenious ability to make snow by tearing the styrofoam board into tiny pieces. Teeny little balls of Styrofoam filled with an incredible amount of static electricity were in about every fiber of carpet the eye could see. (clarification: My older children want me to make it perfectly c-l-e-a-r that this disaster was brought about by the younger children).

This was SO not a good time to be reminded that this was life when I had already made other plans.

But I've calmed down -- for now -- and when I really stop and think about life and the plans I have made (I can do that now that the water is working and all the styrofoam has been vacuumed up), life really has given me the better part.

Like when I was making plans to become a bigwig broadcast journalist, life came along and gave me a husband instead, who loves me for me and not because of a prime-time rating.

And the time I thought I'd plan my life around two children, life came along and gave us twins. We went from one to three and all the way to eight in just about that many years! Who'd have known that planning dinner for four is much harder than for 10.

Even now, as I'm planning what I should write for this week's article, it sounds like life is about ready to happen because it's way too quiet with eight kids at home.

Darla Jones has lived in Tooele for nine years. She has eight children and loves chocolate.