Singing in the Lifeboat

Window Shopping

2012-01-22T22:16:00.000-05:00

We had a great time taking a few minutes for a girls day out with the Turner ladies. We went window shopping at Levi's Commons and then ducked in to Books a Million for some hot cocoa. We spent some cash in Claire's on some awesome accessories. It was a few days after Christmas and still warm enough to go without a coat! But a little rainy. :)

Quote of the Day

2012-01-05T22:34:00.001-05:00

Paul was "entertaining" Maryn and I with his rendition of "Sexy and I Know It"* complete with dance moves.
After some... err, awkward moments (dancing and singing aren't his strong suits)...I had to comment.

"WHERE did you get those dance moves?"

Without skipping a beat, he threw back "From white boys can't dance dot com of course!"

We both started laughing hysterically. Then after a moment, Maryn suddenly stopped mid-laugh and asked in all sincerity. "Wait. Really?"

*(Just for the record, this song is not played in our house. But you can hardly avoid it if you happen to be , well, anywhere else...especially junior high or high school)

Six and up my foot...

2012-01-04T23:01:00.002-05:00

Santa brought Conner a K'nex set for Christmas. It sets up as a Mario Kart Wii style race track. The box labels the toy as appropriate for 6 and up.

What six year old can put that together I ask you?!?!

My brother commented that perhaps the age indication was an enjoyment age, not an assembly age. :)

It took ME more then four hours with assistance. I need words, not pictures with arrows to tell me what to do. Would a few "Put the red stick thing-a-ma-bob in the the red spiky thingamajigs and attach that to another orange rectangle doohickey..." be too much to ask?

They had a ton of fun with it until we ran out of batteries.

"The worst museum ever..."

2012-01-04T22:58:00.000-05:00

The day after the day after Christmas, when all of the fam was here, Mel, Mandy and I took the older girls up to the Art Museum. They had some Irish Dancing and Ballet going on in the galleries...and several of those coming along had not been to the museum before.

For those unfamiliar with the museum, the pic above is of the girls in front of Monet's "Water Lilies" The REAL one. Honest to goodness.

As we wandered through the many galleries, MAddie (second from the right) commented that this was the " worst museum ever." When asked why she said "Don't you see all of these naked people?"

How do you explain art?

Old Fashioned Christmas-1895 One Roomed School House

2012-01-03T22:07:00.000-05:00

I loved this. Every moment. I have times I truly feel like I was born in the wrong decade...or possibly century. Although I would like to keep the central heat and indoor plumbing.

When we walked in, they stove in the middle of the room radiated warmth, and the scent of the burning wood filled the room. Its a smell that immediately makes me feel comfortable and homey. We were greeted by the interpretor who wore a pin striped suit with a vest and bowler hat. He asked each of us to take seat at one the desks. He went over the classroom rules (and I think my younger ones were temporarily terrified); no speaking unless spoken to and sit properly in your chair with feet flat on the floor. We were sternly reminded that breaking the rules would result in a trip to the corner with a dunce hat decoration.

The interpretor goes over "expectations"

Ashlyn looks like she's contemplating escape.

He went over how people attended school back then. He played and we sang "Jingle Bells" on the organ in the corner. We looked over a McGuffey reader. We made ribbon ornaments and folded fan ornaments from paper. The boys poked cloves into oranges and we enjoyed some wassail and peppermints.

The tree was charming and there were wooden boxes filled with gifts that were typical of the time period.

Old Fashioned Christmas- Depression Era

2011-12-20T23:14:00.003-05:00

Two Saturdays before Christmas, the Wood County Park District held an Old Fashioned Christmas Open House. There were 2 locations (very close together).

One of them was the Carter Loomis Farm Park. They just received the property and buildings as a gift and are in the process of restoring it to a working 1930's farm. So when we walked in there, there was this lovely lady dressed in a 30's style dress and high healed shoes making cut out cookies. A tree sat in the corner decorated in Depression Era style decorations with a cast iron toy stove and a toy fire wagon with horses underneath it. My kids wanted to know why we no longer had cool toys like that :)

So more about the cookies. Each of the kids got to cut a few out. They had a little nutmeg in them and were super soft when they came warm out of the oven. Maryn was really enjoying them and wanted to copy the recipe down. She commented to the woman she liked them and asked what kind they were.

Nice lady: "You like them? They're lard cookies."

Maryn: "Whats lard?"

Me: "Maybe you should finish it before I tell you."

What I should have taken a picture of is Maryn's face when I told lard was animal fat.

As you can see from the pictures, they were really trying to use all period materials for the baking. I love how the ingredients are in those big jars.

They had old fashioned games as well. The boys (Paul especially) was fascinated with the marbles and asked for some for Christmas. The girls and I tried to master tiddlywinks with very little success. We flipped a few pretty far and had to go find them.

One of my favorite things was a story they told kind of on the side. We mentioned we had already been to the schoolhouse and she said that the lady who left them them the farm, Lucy, grew up in that home and used to go to the one room schoolhouse. She would ice skate down the ditch during the winter to get there. One day, she fell through and needed up spending the day at a neighbors house getting warm and never went to school. Her mom had no idea until the teacher stopped by to find out where Lucy had been all day.

The Claw

2011-12-07T22:10:00.001-05:00

Since the big kids were gone, Conner, Ashlyn and I decided to run to Kroger and get the Smurf Movie and some root beer and enjoy some time on my bed. Conner took with him 4 quarters.

Me: "Honey, what are you taking those for?"

Conner: "I've been watching You Tube and learning how to do claw machines. I want to win a plush."

Me: "Well, its your money and if you want to try that's fine. But understand that those things are really hard to win at. You have to be lucky and watching You Tube in order to try and win isn't really going to be helpful at all."

Oh.

I stand corrected.

Manor House

2011-12-07T22:05:00.001-05:00

So for FHE last Monday we went and visited the Manor House at Wildwood Preserve in Toledo. Every year they decorate it for Christmas and open for tours. We had never been before, but it was very cool. We all enjoyed it. Here are a few pics.

The master bath was filled with piggies! I think they called it "Oink the Halls".
So Cute!

A pig dressed up as Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer sitting on the back of a toilet. How did they know my weakness?

This was kind of creepy at first. What's with the long dark tunnel? It's called "Alternate Delivery" and the little animals are helping with the gifts. We found it was a shooting range when it was actually a house.

Trains! There were neat little village pieces in the middle that sparkled and twinkled while the trains ran round and round.

It's official...

2011-12-07T21:58:00.001-05:00

Yes, it's true. Maryn has lost her mind. Which is probably because she has also lost her head.

See photographic proof below:

(Actually...the real story is that she is looking at fish in the pond at 577 Foundation. We took the girls there on our little weekend of adventure!)

Best. Response. Ever.

2011-12-04T21:41:00.001-05:00

When I dropped by the nativity festival today I was flipping through the comment cards. Each one asks how they heard about it, what they liked and what they would like to see.

To the last question, some little girl answered thus:

"A unicorn nativity made out of real crystals."

Does life get any better then that, I ask you?

I'd like to lodge a formal complaint...

2011-12-03T21:28:00.001-05:00

So tonight we went to our church's Nativity Festival. We went last night, but we went again tonight because I was accompanying my friend Rachel and her mother Angela. They give a little Christmas recital as part of the festivities. They are both beautifully trained sopranos, and it was quite lovely. Afterwards, Rachel asked if I would like to go with her to use a groupon she got at a little hole in the wall pizza place downtown. I checked with the parentals and then gave the affirmative answer. I was enthusiastic. My parents were cooperative.

My kids were mad.

More specifically Maryn was mad. Now in fairness, Rachel and I also did a Biaggi's run last night after we rehearsed. I needed chocolate. It had been a long and stressful day. I need an hour without children or work. I make no apologies for a little self care. (Okay actually I do, because it mostly feels like selfishness instead of self care, but I'm working on it. Plus the cake was amazing.)

But I sensed this wasn't really about my absence. So I asked her why she was mad. Truth be told, is was more about me going somewhere that didn't include her. And it was about me going somewhere she wanted to go and didn't get to go.

What is it about being 11 years old that makes the entire world seem unfair?

Her day had been a list of complaints.

"Why don't WE have a real tree. I want a real tree. THEY have a real tree."
"And they have 2 trees. Why can't we have 2 trees?"
"They put their stockings on the fireplace. You put them on the shelf. They're supposed to go on the fireplace. Why don't we put them on the fireplace."
"You get to go places. I never get to go places. Why do you get to go places?"
"Hannah got one of those, why can't I have one of those?"
"Why can't we have pork for dinner? They have pork for dinner. You never make pork for dinner."

Finally, I stopped her.

"Look, if you're going to continue telling me everything that just isn't working for you like this, maybe you should write it down and submit it all at once a formal complaint."

She kind of laughed.

A friend pointed out that somehow in the eyes of kids that age anything different then what they have is bad. Somehow, someone else having something you don't have (even though you may have many other wonderful things), is perceived as unfair.

Okay, not just 11 year olds. I go there sometimes too. Okay, I go there a lot.

Maybe I should just confess straight out that I live there. I've pitched a tent and hunkered down for the long haul. But so often I feel justified in my complaints, because I complain about BIG things, not pizza and cake.

And yet...

Here is a quote from the latest church magazine. Elder Eyring said:

"So to be happy and to avoid misery, we must have a grateful heart. We have seen in our lives the connection between gratitude and happiness. All of us would like to feel gratitude, yet it is not easy to be consistently grateful in all things in the trials of life. Sickness, disappointment, and the loss of people we love come at times in our lives. Our sorrows can make it hard to see our blessings and to appreciate the blessings God has in store for us in the future.

It is a challenge to count our blessings because we have a tendency to take good things for granted."

I should probably reconsider accepting, or giving, any more formal complaints.

This is what I do...

2011-12-03T15:42:00.001-05:00

Hello, my name is Chiara Cameron and I am a Volunteer Coordinator. I really like what I do. I also happen to be pretty good at it. Most people don't know what it means to be a volunteer coordinator, so allow me explain.

Depending on which agency you work for, that means different things.

For Hannah's Socks, it means I recruit volunteers, match them with the best opportunities for them, and then try and build relationships with them so they stay. That means coming with tasks and programs. It means learning more about your volunteers and investing a piece of yourself in them so they feel important and they invest in the agency and the mission. The key word for most VC's is "engage". We engage individuals.

For United Way, I take on more of a supportive roll for other agencies. I do a little matching of individuals to opportunities, but mostly I work with the VC's in other agencies to help them create great programs so we feel good about sending volunteers their way. Sometimes, I also help groups come up with Days of Caring. I reach out to organizations I know have things to when I am contacted by a business or other organization who want to do a service project. I also maintain key volunteer relationships. Food Pantry Network is one (pretty much all of them are volunteers and coordinate volunteers) and the Office of Service Learning at BGSU is another. I really like being part of both of both of those. Relationships are a core value for me. Anyway, last night I tapped into the relationships I have with both of these groups to do something good. BGSU wanted to have a service project in honor of the inauguration of the new university president. The OSL reached out to me and asked for help planning a food drive and then connecting the food with the right recipients.

Last night we sorted and prepared about 1000 items that we divided between 3 pantries. People give weird stuff. Soba noodles? Seaweed wraps? Foil packaged jelly fish? Tapioca thats older then I am? A #10 can of hot fudge sauce? How is that practical for anyone in rural midwest Ohio?

After all I have learned about food pantries, here is my little bit of advice; whenever you give for a food drive, give food you would eat. Don't reach into your cupboard and just give them whatever you aren't using. Don't give stuff thats older then you kids. You are giving this food to people, not pigs. It will not help them if they will not eat it.

Okay, now the soapbox is officially tipped over and I am moving on :)

Anyway, another thing I do and love doing presentations and training. I love planning just the right thing. I love coming up with activities that have meaning and then leading the group through the processing and seeing their faces as the pieces come together and they reach their own conclusion. I love interacting with people. I love researching and learning more about the topic and subject. Did I mention that I love it?

I get to do a presentation next week on creating positive organizational cultures that support and maximize volunteers within that culture. Sounds riveting doesn't it? And yet I'm excited. The process of bringing it together was tedious but rewarding. I'll have to let you know how it turns out :)

Notes

2011-11-30T20:50:00.001-05:00

I was cleaning out my folder, and found these notes.

This one is from Conner. He gave it to me at church a few weeks ago. Allow me to rewrite (Conner spelling will prevail), translate when necessary, and comment whenever I feel like it.

Top 5 things I like.

1. Pokemon.

2. Angry birds.

3. my big bother.

(My big brother)

4. school.

5. church!!!

top 5 things I don't like.

1. Ashlen (Ashlyn. Really?)

2. Divishen (division)

3. being rich!

(whose kid is this anyway?)

4. being hurt.

5. not loved.

(These last 2 I totally get. Pretty profound)

Top 1 licke the most of all

1. my mom!

(He was not paid for this statement. It was offered without coercion)

I got this from Maryn's language arts teacher in the mail. This is a happy note.

On a side note...a really far side note...I was listening to Ashlyn interact with our puppy Oogie. She keeps calling him "a little ramp" and "you little rampster". I asked if she meant "scamp". She said no. She meant "ramp". Weird. Then tonight he picked up a raw potato piece off the floor where I dropped it accidentally. She starts patting his ears and saying in her "puppy voice"; "You little raw monster."

Don't even ask. I have no idea.

Quicksand

2011-11-29T22:05:00.001-05:00

I love metaphors. Honestly. There really isn't a day that goes by that I don't find a metaphor about something in my world that feels applicable to my own thoughts and processes. This metaphor was in some reading material I was given. I liked it.

When we’re stuck in quicksand, the immediate impulse is to struggle and fight to get out. But that’s exactly what you mustn’t do in quicksand – because as you put weight down on one part of your body (your foot), it goes deeper. So the more you struggle, the deeper you sink – and the more you struggle. Very much a no-win situation. With quicksand, there’s only one option for survival. Spread the weight of your body over a large surface area – lay down. It goes against all our instincts to lay down and really be with the quicksand, but that’s exactly what we have to do. So it is with distress. We struggle and fight against it, but we’ve perhaps never considered just letting it be, and being with the distressing thoughts and feelings, but if we did, we’d find that we get through it and survive – more effectively than if we’d fought and struggled.

I can completely see how this is applicable. The book talks about how life is full of pain, but it doesn't have to be full of suffering.

The whole time I'm reading this book and the concept of acceptance, the thought that kept passing through my head was what is quite possibly the only serious quote in Princess Bride:

"Life is pain highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something."

Isn't that true? Aren't there forces all around us constantly trying to sell us this idea that we deserve to not be in pain? That a life void of discomfort of any kind is indicative of a successful life?

Its a simple line, but the salesmen (who is usually crafty and convincing because he's, well, he's the devil and that's his forte) is pretty darn good. We believe his story without really giving it a second thought. Mostly because we want to believe it. No one wants to hurt. Its actually instinctual to avoid things that our guts tell us will make us uncomfortable. We have found clever ways to try and stop feeling bad. And the salesman who sold us the story that pain is not part of a happy and productive life, also seems to have the cure.

Isn't that convenient.

I know how he works, because he's sold me the same elixir. I've seen him sell it to friends. And he's so good, that he mixes that elixir and adds the exact flavor he knows we want. Its an easy sell.

"You don't deserve to feel sad that you're single and alone. Have a piece of cake. Or two. Possibly three."

This was one from a friend; "You should never feel insecure or inadequate. You should have a drink. Maybe two. Maybe the whole bottle. That should make you feel better."

There's a thousand other flavors; righteous indignation, revenge, pornography...just name any addiction or compulsive behavior and you have the perfect recipe for emotional and spiritual quicksand.

I'm trying to learn more about this concept of accepting pain as part of life. I will learn to lay down in the quicksand. I will stop struggling. I will stop suffering.

As I make progress, I'll let you know.

Reasons

2011-11-28T23:42:00.000-05:00

This is actually just a quick note about my son.

I am proud of him. He may not be the fastest, strongest or smartest in all the things he believes others measure him for...but he is the bestest.

Here are some reasons why.

He was just called to be the first assisstant in the Priests Quorum. He's only been a priest for 6 months. He's not the oldest priest, and when he received the call, he had an enormous amount of self doubt as to whether or not he could be a leader. He wondered why someone like himself (whatever thats supposed to mean) would be asked to fill this position. A few weeks ago, I saw the reason why.

There was an old man who just recently came back to church. He is still a priest. And that week he was blessing the sacrament. Somehow, he got jumbled up, and after several tries and a little frustration, he was still saying the prayers over and again because he kept missing or adding different words. I watched my son stand next to him, smile encouragingly, help him see the small errors so he could correct them, and then lay his hand on the mans shoulder as he knelt by his side to give him support.

I knew why he had been asked to fulfill that calling.

He loves kids. He was more then happy to let his little cousins sit on his lap and explore his nook.

Tonight, he had a scrimmage (of sorts) for wrestling that I couldn't be at. But between wrestling practice and the actual meet, he called and asked for food. We sat in the van and chatted for a few minutes while he ate.

"Mom, I'm really glad we have a good relationship. I let someone else use my phone to call his mom. They were swearing at eachother, and yelling. And when he got off the phone he called her a bad name. I'm so glad we're not like that."

When I had conferences, all of his teachers, without exception, adore him. He struggles with grades, but they all told me what an amazing kid he is. He's kind, polite, respectful, and helpful.

I think that is God's great joke on you as a parent. Right about the time you actually start liking your kids and enjoying their company...
they leave you.

Quote of the day

2011-11-28T23:26:00.001-05:00

Conner asked me yesterday if he could have the hot dog that had been left over from a previous lunch during the week.

Mom: " I ate it a few days ago."

Conner: "You are a menace."

Small Worlds

2011-11-28T23:18:00.000-05:00

Okay, Okay, so I realize I have months tocatch up on. I want to. I really do. But it seems like there is so much I can'teven comprehend where to begin. I remember years ago when I cared aboutscrapbooking, that the advice they gave when facing an overwhelming amount ofcatching up was to start from the most recent and move back when you hadmomentum. Me thinks I shall take that advice.

So here we are.

We spent Thanksgiving at my dad's cousin'shouse; Ethan Gale and his wife Hillary. The funny thing about this cousinrelationship is that Ethan is actually a year younger then me and so his kidsare my kids ages. They had such a good time that we brought their two oldest,Allison and Aubrey, back up with us (along with Miciah).

So what do you do to keep 5 girls occupiedfor 2 days? Find cool free stuff to do!

Enter Toledo Museum of Art.

For a mere $5for parking you can partake of a world class art museum. And on Friday nightsthey do super awesome activities. Thats why we went.

First, we went on a guided tour of their new exhibit, Small Worlds, a statement about space and use of space in our world. It was cool. And then, outside the exhibit, they had a free hands on activity where anyone could create their own interpretation of space in a box (for FREE!).

Hard at work

Aubrey and her "Christmas Thingy"

Maryn always has been in her own little world

Ashlyn wanted a Christmas landscape

Allison and her Christmas Living Room

Miciah and her mini craft room...which if you know Miciah, is super appropriate.

Art Exhibit

2011-08-04T23:11:00.005-04:00

So I think the art teacher at my kids elementary school is amazing. She really tries to no just do projects but to teach concepts and history. And the results, to me, are amazing. Here are some of the projects they did this year. The artist is listed above each piece. :)

Conner

Ashlyn

Maryn

Ashlyn

Maryn

A visitor from France: All about Thibaud Real (our new French speaking friend)

2011-07-30T23:59:00.001-04:00

So for about 3 weeks we had an extra member of our family. Thibaud Real came to stay with us on June 19^th and left July 9^th. He is a kind, considerate and intelligent young man. We learned a lot from him and enjoyed having him with us for those 3 weeks.

The funniest things happened when a language barrier arose. He was only supposed to speak English, but sometimes that was hard. I can only imagine it’s not fun finding the words you really want to say when you have a limited vocabulary. But he got way better at it as the weeks passed by. He had to think less before speaking and had gained some new vocabulary (some of it compliments of our family’s usage of words like “Weird!” and “Seriously?!) But here are some fun, and funny, things we experienced while he was here. They are forever saved in our memory files, but here are ones that were fun but no one took pictures of but we hope to always remember.

Dutch

So one of the first nights, Paul and Thibaud decided to download Starcraft. It was a 24 hour download. The next day, when they checked it…lo and behold they had downloaded the entire thing in Dutch, a language neither of them spoke. Nice guys. Nice. We kept joking that we should find the Dutch versions of things since they had apparently become quickly fluent in it.

Hands on

So we were told French people eat very little with their hands. It’s true. I watched him eat a sandwich wrap with a knife and fork. I mean, who wants to get their hands dirty any way? But this translated into not also wanting to get to much food on his hands. Enter buckeye candy making. You must use your hands to mix the sugary peanut buttery dough. And we let Thibaud go first. See attached picture. He took the candies home to his family.

You First

Paul and Thibaud are both nice guys. As a result they spent a lot of time trying not to be rude which sometimes ended up just silly. They would come to a door and both try and open it first to let the other go and then stand their insisting the other go for like a minute. I finally joked with them to figure it out or I’d have them count off and have them take turns. Also, Thibaud did not want to be an inconvenience and Paul was trying to let him have space, so for the first week or so they would spend their days while I was at work apart…Thibaud upstairs in his room, Paul on the computer. I can only imagine they were bored out of their skulls. I finally sat them down and pointed out it was okay to make requests (Thibaud) and offer ideas (Paul). It got much better after that.

Crazy Cakes

One of the biggest jokes were American styled decorated cakes. He always called them “crazy”. No one slathers fat and sugar on top of stuff like Americans can baby! We went to a bakery and showed him the tools of the trade and explained some of how it was done. “So its like an art form?” he asked. Yes! It really is an art form. He was surprised to find out big fancy cakes cost hundreds and even thousands of dollars. The fascination continued all the way through the visit. Hence the picture of the Meijer bakery. He forgot his camera and needed something to show the people at home.

Wheat and Huit

So we introduced him to 2 new games; Settlers of Catan and Ticket to Ride. We played them a lot. The first time we played settlers, there was a particular number that when rolled, half the people got wheat. They would call out the name of their prize as the die fell where they may. It was coming up a lot. And it took a few times for me to realize that everytime someone yelled “Wheat”, Thibaud was taking ore from his tile with and “8” proudly displayed in the middle. “What are you doing?” I asked. “Well, they keep saying huit.” I smiled and laughed, pointing at the grain tile. “This kind of wheat. Not the number!” It continued to be a joke throughout all the times we played.

Pictures

For some reason I had the darndest time getting any pictures of him. He hated having his picture taken. Finally, at 577 Foundation he was hopelessly trapped in a hammock. Ah-ha!

Great places

Here’s what they got to do for those weeks; lunch at Chipotle (compliments of the manager!),farmer’s market, zoo, art museum (tour and dinner!), Fort Meigs, Library, 577 Foundation, Air and Space Museum, Neil Armstrong Museum, Bisseggars, Country Fest, Cars 2, Transformers, Perrysburgers, Fireworks for the 4^th, Hannahs Socks Library Handout, Game night at the Yosts, Sauder Village, Cedar Point, Family Weekend and big BBQ on the 4^th (With ribs and chicken and homemade root beer!), Cracker Barrel, and lots of movies at home, games at the table and dinners together.

All in all, I would say it was a great 3 weeks!

Thibaud's Visit: Mudhens Game

2011-07-30T23:56:00.001-04:00

One of our favorite outings was a MudHens game. Someone who is in our ward played shortstop for the team (he's since been moved teams) and got a ball signed by all the players. Thibaud had never seen a baseball game before, and it was a ton of fun. Even though there was a foul ball that bounced off the railing and almost hit Thibaud in the face.

Thibaud's Visit: Art Museum

2011-07-30T23:54:00.001-04:00

We went to the Toledo Museum of Art the night before he left. We ate dinner there as well, and really enjoyed walking around and seeing the great stuff there. The cafe is fantastic by the way! I used a cool new app on my phone to capture and edit the pics to make them fancy.

Outside the museum

(The pic fix is called "So Emo". I love the feeling it gives the whole thing!)

The Glass Pavilion. This is Thibaud through one of the glass cases holding glass items including the walking sticks you see in the foreground.

This is an exhibit of Irregular Polygons by Frank Stella. They have space for the kids to draw and their own shapes and use geometric magnets to manipulate and create even more patterns and possibilities.

I love how in this picture, the floors are so shiny they reflect the art. Amazing atmosphere.

Reading in the middle

2011-07-30T23:36:00.002-04:00

So I'm in the mood and mindframe to blog. So there will be many in short succession about varied things. Don't worry. Since I'm not a huge fan of typing, I'm sure I'll just hit the high spots and there will be lots of pictures.

But first, and moment of self discovery.

And a confession.

My name is Chiara Cameron, and I have never actually read a book from cover to cover.

Okay..not a novel. I read If you Give a Mouse a Cookie all the time from front to back. But its the long ones without pictures that get me. Which is probably why my 2 favorite types of books are cookbooks and psychological mumbo jumbo books (NOT textbooks) because you can start anywhere in the book and still get something out of it. I read the first 3 or 4 chapters and the last 2 or 3 chapters and then I bounce around the middle as I please.

My friends are baffled by this. They want to know how I can miss out on the excitement, the build up, the anticipation of not knowing what happens.

I think I know why. I don't like not knowing everything is going to turn out okay. I have to know how it ends so I can leisurely browse the middle with assurance that all things will turn out just swell. There is enough in my life I am unsure of, and quite frankly I need less excitement, build up and anticipation in my life. I'm swimming in it it would seem. I'm waiting to find out how my story will turn out, and its driving me nuts. If I knew, somehow, how it would all end, I could happily paddle around the middle and wait.

But tonight I realized the middle is kind of the point. By bouncing around the middle and picking up only random pieces of information I miss a lot. Like I missed the whole Bella and Jacob kiss on the mountain in Eclipse. I missed Katniss and Peeta finally joining forces in Hunger Games. I missed key points and moments because I already knew the ending and thought I got it and understood the whole thing. But I didn't. I knew where the characters were, but had no idea how they got there. I missed the character development.

And there it was...the explanation for my own middle story. If I knew how it ended, I would quit trying and just wait. I'd bounce around and miss a bunch of important stuff. I would fail to develop my own character. And even when I got to my ending, I wouldn't truly get it without experiencing all of the stuff in the middle.

So here's to the middle! Not saying I'll start reading books like a normal person...

Quotes of the Day

2011-07-30T23:21:00.003-04:00

I was looking at a list of school supplies printed off Maryn's Junior High website and noticed a course offering I found interesting. So I pointed it out to my daughter. "Are you going to take Exploratory French?" Maryn: "Nah. Science isn't really my thing." LOL.
Conner and I were sitting outside together on the lawn while he was eating Laffy Taffy his grandma sent him. He shared something he remembered. I was surprised he could recall it and I told him so. He pointed to his head, "I have a big brain in here. Its full of memories." I smiled and said. "Its too bad that big brain couldn't do a little better in school." He quickly replied, "It's because its too busy with the memories."
Maryn was lamenting the start of her new Junior High journey. She complains about it regularly actually. One morning Ashlyn had had enough. "Come on Maryn! It can't be as bad as getting married!" I chuckled and asked her why that was so. She looked at me like I was crazy and replied, "Because when you get married, you have to kiss a boy. Duh."

Balloons to Heaven

2011-06-17T23:29:00.001-04:00

Today was David's Birthday. He would have been 42. We have always tried to make his birthday a celebration and day of memory. It seems to be the best choice. Father's Day may someday be lost to someone else, Memorial Day is inherently somber, and the anniversary of the death is not a happy occasion either.

Since birthdays are automatically cheerful for the most part...that is the day we have chosen to celebrate and remember.

We started talking about it earlier this week. The kids decided what kind of cake they would have. Their dad was a big Broncos fan, and that was what they choose. I enlisted the help of a talented friend who created a wonderful cake for us (see below).

It wasn't a long drawn out festivity. We kept it simple. It included 2 things really. The first was the balloons. I bought 10 helium filled balloons, 2 for each of us, one blue and one orange. And sharpie markers. I invited each child to write a message on their balloons. A message to their dad. And then we released them to travel to heaven for him on his birthday.

My boys messages were simple; "I love you.", "I miss you." "Happy Birthday."

Ashlyn and Maryn wrote short essays. But it is the way they are.

Maryn's says. "Happy Birthday Daddy your 42!" Everyone misses you! I Love you!"

Theyw ere smiling and cheerful as they wrote. And here is Ashlyns. She had a hard time letting this balloon go. She was afraid the birds would pop it before it got to heaven for her dad. She made me take several pictures of it.

"Daddy when will you come back will I ever see you Again?"

I stood by her and assured her it was okay to let it go. Letting it go was the only way it would get to him.

We watched as they floated out of sight.
"Mommy? Is heaven above the clouds?"
"Are there clouds in Heaven?"
"What does Heaven look like?"

Since we believe as a family that David is being a missionary in the world after this one to those who have not heard of Jesus Christ , Maryn wanted to know if Daddy was teaching Michael Jackson :)

A few hours later, Ashlyn asked me if I thought Daddy had gotten the balloons yet and if he was reading his messages. I told her I thought it was so.

The next part was the cake.

We put a one candle on the cake. We would light it, and each person would take a turn making a wish for themselves they thought daddy would make for them before blowing out the candle. They were instructed not to tell. Although Conner and Ashlyn confessed to wishing for their daddy to come back, and we had to discuss why this was not possible right now. Paul assured them that he would come back, and they would see him again, but when the Lord came again. They insisted on knowing when that would be.

But of course, no one knows. And something that vague is kind of hard to explain to ones so young. But we tried to.

I feel sure David is proud of them; of who they are and who they are becoming. He is proud of what they are accomplishing and the choices they are making.
And I think that is most likely, the best birthday gift they can give him.

Ashlynisms...

2011-06-13T23:32:00.003-04:00

Rob and I: We'll give $10 to whoever can lick their elbow! (All of the children begin desperately trying to do so).

Ashlyn: I can't lick my elbow. But I can lick my armpit!

I gave Ashlyn some pants. I watched her put them on, turned around to grab something and when I turned back they were off her and on the floor.

Me: "Whats wrong with these?"

Ashlyn: "They don't fit right."

Me: "Well are you going to wear them ever or should I give them away."

Ashlyn: "Nah. Keep em'. I'll probably wear them when my butt gets bigger."

(I start laughing hysterically)

Ashlyn: "You're gonna put that on facebook aren't you."

Cincinnati Adventures: Wherein Tamra and I discover that the talent of ballon artist is measured in how long you can wait to use the bathroom

2011-06-13T23:06:00.005-04:00

On Saturday we went across the river to Kentucky and Newport. There's a lot to see. There are shops and restaurants and street performers. Oh, and Cold Stone. Yummy.

But I digress.

Street performers.

This guy was super nice and gave the kids some free balloons. We left a tip. On the way across the Purple People Bridge to Ohio, Ashlyn and Miciah's both popped. So we stopped back on the way out and asked for another. He gladly obliged. While we waited for Rob and the kids wathced a juggler, Tamra and began wondering exactly hwo the stilts and the bathroom things worked.

So Tamra asked.

Apparently, he stand there for 10 hours without taking off the stilts or taking a break. Not even a bathroom break.

Talk about training.

It was hot. So Rob gave both the ballon man and the juggler a water bottle as a tip. They both seemed to appreciate it very much

The girls and their balloons. Tank had no desire to be in the picture.

These awesome little dudes are hermit crabs with cool painted shells. They were sweet!

So we walked across the river on the bridge. Which I failed to take pictures of. Walked around the riverfront park. Ate a picnic. Walked down to the water. Walked back over the bridge and watched a barge pass right under our feet.

And went home wiped out.

Cincinnati Adventures: The part in which we discover that there are leaves bigger then Rob and curlier then Q's

2011-06-13T23:03:00.003-04:00

So after the sauna...er, I mean, the butterfly house, we went on and explored the remainder of the conservatory. We discovered some very interesting plants I found neat to look at and quickly enjoy without much thought.

Robert felt the need to explain the biological individuality and evolutionary genius of each species.

Yea.

Here's the dumbed down, non PhD in something biology related version.

Okay its honestly more of the 1st grade reader version.

See Rob. See the big leaves.

Look children. There are plants near the pond.

The ugly big goldfish swim in the stream. Where will they go?

The leaves are up. Up, up, up!

Some of the leaves are big and wide. Some of the leaves are not big and wide. Some are big and not wide.

Look! Look at the girl by the water. The water is falling over the rocks into the stream that goes nowhere where the ugly big goldfish swim.

The water falls. Splish! Splash! Do not get wet!

Look! Look children and Rob. Look at the path we have walked through the forest that is not real.

The girls sits on the butterfly. The butterfly does not die. The butterfly is not a real butterfly!

Silly girl.

See Rob! See the silly leaves! Why are the leaves so silly?

Cincinnati Adventure: The Part Where we sweat it out in the Butterfly House

2011-06-13T22:56:00.002-04:00

The following events will be retold in detail...but not necessarily in the order that they happened. They are actually appearing in the order of what I thought were the coolest pictures.
So there.

So over Memorial Day weekend my mother kicked me and girls out of the house so she could have grandson's weekend. So I took Maryn and Ashlyn down to my brother's house in Cincinnati where we enjoyed good company and had a few fun adventures.

On Sunday afternoon, we ventured to Krohn's Conservatory where they have beautiful greenhouse gardens (more on that in the next post) and a special Brazilian Butterly exihibit.

It was really a lot of fun. But very, very, VERY hot. The room where the butterflies were was humidly sweltering and everyone was glistening. They say its for the Amazonian butterflies, but I wonder if they just want to shuffle people in and out quickly so they make it practically unbearable to be in there longer then 45 minutes.

Here is a very cool chandelier of recycled items in the tent entryway.

I want one,

So they give you these little foam flower cutouts to act as 'butterfly landing pads". The butterflies preferred fingers. You see Rob getting one off of a flower with his hand. The picture beneath that shows Ashlyn holding one on her flower, but only after Rob put it there from his hand.

Now the little fellow below looks kind of lame and boring. But when he open his wings...it turns out the insides are a bright blue! For some reason, these little guys also like to hitch rides on people. Mostly on their pants. Without them knowing. What was crackign me up is that Miciah woudl walk right up to strange people and pluck these critters off their pants. No personal space barriers whatsoever. It was kind of funny.

Dream House...

2011-06-12T01:02:00.002-04:00

This is interesting in a disturbing kind of way. But I found it enlightening and want to preserve it. So here it is…

So last night I had a dream about a house. The thing about this particular house is that it was not entirely unfamiliar to me. It’s been in my dreams before. It’s a large beautiful house, and it’s always mine to have. But in previous dreams there had been a barrier to me totally taking control of it. Most of it was haunted. Haunted by spirits that terrified me. I remember specifically in a former dream a large majestic dining room with a long dark wood table and many high backed chairs and deep rich wall paneling. But I could never stay. I was afraid. Whenever I was in the house, I always knew there were parts that were haunted and parts that were not. And I always chose to live in the parts that were not because they were safer. They were shabbier, but safer. And so, thus in my dream house we lived. In 2 rooms where the wallpaper was peeling and the décor was bland and the carpets were dirty…afraid to go upstairs to the big beautiful bedrooms or majestic living and dining rooms because of what was there. Things I didn’t want to face.

But last night was remarkable…it was different this time! As I ascended the stairs to my rooms, I realized they were too small and didn’t fit us anymore. The doors were so tiny that not even my youngest could fit through them (although somehow in my dream I did…which is of course, the way it always works!) The rooms had diminished in size because a large hole with an unattached staircase had taken up all of the room we used to have. And since you could see but not technically reach the stairs, whenever you maneuvered form one room to another, or even once space to another, there was a great risk of falling. So we covered it with a carpet in an effort to expand the space. But after a few people fell through, I decided I had had enough. We were moving back in the house…back to the big glorious rooms I knew were there. The ones whose specters had kept me from them. But for some reason…I had no fear. I gathered up my children and we marched back down the hall with a little apprehension. I was pleased to find a bright and cheerfully decorated room for each of us with the doors wide open! Each room was bright; flooded with light from big windows. One room had purple walls and sported 2 large beds ; one covered in a yellow canopy and the other bed littered with big fluffy and colorful pillows. Another large room had 2 sturdy and playful bunk beds against the deep blue walls and many happy and interesting decorations. There were other bedrooms I can’t remember the details of. And there were 2 bathrooms with the doors partly open. White tiled, sink and a shower with a shower curtain in each (but oddly enough no toilet). And there was not a spirit in sight. They had miraculously left the premises. No dining room to be found, no majestic but dark living spaces haunted with former occupants…just the meeting of our basic needs (except for the toilet!). I knew we needed to find a different way to come upstairs since the carpet covered hole was no longer going to do the trick obviously. So I proceeded to the end of the hall, lighted by a large window, and found some back stairs which descended directly to the basement. The basement looked like a maze of sterile tunnels with assorted and random upward flights of stairs spawning from the main corridor which eventually ended at a city street…which was still underground. But a storm was brewing above it. Dark clouds were gathering and the wind was blowing. I quickly made my way to the end of the underground street and pushed through a closed door that brought me back to the outside of the house. I could then tell it was large and yellow, but in desperate need of some attention and repair.

And then I woke up.

Now I rarely take stock in dream interpretations, although I will confess to having a few dreams I KNEW meant something. But they were person specific…dream visits from my late husband for example. But part of me knew this dream meant something. Mostly because it was a different version of another dream I had NOT enjoyed many times before. And so I began looking for some insight online. And what I found…I found very interesting indeed.

Let’s start with the major symbols and their apparent meanings (I assume they are important because even now, nearly 24 hours later, I remember these parts very clearly):

House

To see a house in your dream, represents your own soul and self. Specific rooms in the house indicate a specific aspect of your psyche.

Haunted House

To dream of a haunted house, signifies unfinished emotional business, related to your childhood family, dead relatives, or repressed memories and feelings.

Room
To dream that you are in a room, represents a particular aspect of yourself or a specific relationship. Dreams about various rooms often relate to hidden areas of the conscious mind and different aspects of your personality. If the room is welcoming or comfortable, then it signifies opulence and satisfaction in life. If you see a dark or confined room, then it denotes that you feel trapped or repressed in a situation.

To dream that you find or discover a new room, suggests that you are developing new strengths and taking on new roles. You may be growing emotionally. Consider what you find in the discovered room as it may indicate repressed memories, fears, or rejected emotions.

Dining Room

To dream that you are in a dining room, represents your quest for knowledge and understanding.

Going up stairs:

To dream that you are walking up a flight of stairs, indicate that you are achieving a higher level of understanding. You are making progress into your spiritual, emotional or material journey. The dream is also analogous to material and thoughts that are coming to the surface

Going Down Stairs:

To dream that you are walking down a flight of stairs, represents your repressed thoughts. You are regressing back into your unconscious.

Carpet

To dream that you are installing or laying down carpet, suggests that you are trying to make your life more comfortable. The dream may also be analogous to the planning of something. You are laying out some new project or endeavor.

Hole

It may mean that you are feeling hollow or empty inside. This dream may be an awakening for you to get out and expose yourself to new interests and activities.

Small Doorway

To dream that someone or something is smaller than usual, represents feelings of insignificance, helplessness and unworthiness. To dream that you are entering through a door, signifies new opportunities that are presented before you. You are entering into a new stage in your life and moving from one level of consciousness to another.

Corridor/ Hallway

To walk along a corridor in your dream, signifies a transitional phase of self exploration. It signals spiritual enlightenment, emotional growth, physical prowess, new opportunities and mental passages in your life.

Open Doors

To see an opened door in your dream, symbolizes your receptiveness and willingness to accept new ideas/concepts. In particular, to see a light behind the door, suggests that you are moving toward greater enlightenment/spirituality.

Bedrooms

To dream that you are in the bedroom, signifies aspects of yourself that you keep private.

Bathroom

a bathroom symbolizes purification and self-renewal.

Sink

To see a sink in your dream, represents your feelings and your ability to control your emotions. You may need to cleanse yourself of past feelings and start fresh

White

White represents purity, perfection, peace, innocence, dignity, cleanliness, awareness, and new beginnings. You may be experiencing a reawakening or have a fresh outlook on life

Shower

To see a shower curtain in your dream, indicates that you are not fully expressing your emotions. To dream that you are taking a shower in clear, fresh water, symbolizes spiritual or physical renewal and forgiveness. You are washing the burdens out of your life.

Toilet (remember there wasn’t one?)

To see a toilet in your dream, symbolizes a release of emotions. You need to get rid of something in your life that is useless.

Purple

Purple is indicative of devotion, healing abilities, loving, kindness, and compassion

Yellow

If the dream is a pleasant one, then the color yellow is symbolic of intellect, energy, agility, happiness, harmony, and wisdom.

Canopy

To see a canopy in your dream, symbolizes protection.

Bright Colors

Bright colors mean awareness.

Pillows

To see a pillow in your dream, represents comfort. relaxation, ease, and/or luxury. You need to take it easy on yourself.

Blue

Blue represents truth, wisdom, heaven, eternity, devotion, tranquility, loyalty and openness. Perhaps you are expressing a desire to get away. The presence of this color in your dream, may symbolize your spiritual guide and your optimism of the future.

Bunkbeds

To see bunk beds in your dream, represent childhood and innocence.

Window

To see a window in your dream, signifies bright hopes, vast possibilities and insight.

Basement

To dream that you are in a basement, symbolizes your unconscious mind and intuition.

Underground city

To dream of an underground or underwater city, represents your unconscious and how through deeper understanding of yourself, you find commonality and shared experiences with others.

Storm

The storm also represents unexpressed fears or emotions, such as anger, rage, turmoil, etc. On a more positive note, the storm symbolizes your rising spirituality. It may signal rapid changes ahead for you.

Outside

To dream that you are outside, represents freedom, openness and opportunities. You are able to spread out and enjoy.

House in need of repair

To see an old, run-down house in your dream, represents your old beliefs, attitudes and how you used to think or feel.

To Sum Up:

So… the house is me. The old haunted house was my old self. Emotions and issues left simmering from my 2 marriages. Things I was unwilling to face. It was those things that chased me away from knowledge and understanding, I felt trapped and oppressed (the dark dining room). All of the rooms in my old haunted house were dark and oppressive. I was relegated to my old thoughts and beliefs.

Rooms represent a specific aspect of myself or a relationships. Those old rooms I was living in with the small door around the big hole…I felt unworthy and helpless to do anything about that hole. The biggest thing in my life right now that causes me to literally feel empty is my lack of spouse. So the hole must symbolize a husband. I was covering it with plans (the carpet) to avoid that regression (down stairs) back into destructive relationship habits. I think the knowing I couldn’t go back to the hole and the disconnected stairs and carpet people kept falling through (mostly my kids come to think of it) may be symbolic of my needing a new set of plans to cover the emptiness…I need a new plan to fill the hole (or husband plan). The old unsuccessful plans caused my children suffering before (falling through). New plan it is!

So the old rooms weren’t doing it for me anymore. Each room represents a part of myself…and I was finding new rooms everywhere! Well, rooms I had previously been aware of but kept from because of the haunting. I need to head down that hall. Halls are enlightenment, emotional growth, and new opportunities. The open doors show I am willing to receive new ideas and concepts. I think the fact I could move freely down the hall without fear of the haunting is very significant. If the haunted part represents unfinished emotional business…I think I may have finally moved on from what was damaging me. I was ready to deal with those emotions.

If each room represents a different part of myself… Let’s start with those bathrooms which symbolize purification and self renewal:

They were white but windowless and a bit darker…a little bit of oppression and trapping going on there of my own making surely. But oh, what was available! White represents purity, perfection, peace, innocence, dignity, cleanliness, awareness, and new beginnings and opportunity for a reawakening or to have a fresh outlook on life. The doors to those rooms were open, but I didn’t go in. But I also don’t remember seeing them in my hallway before or in the house at all. I saw a shower curtain which symbolizes repressed emotions and a sink which indicates the need to wash away past emotions. No toilet means I need a release of emotions…to get rid of beliefs that are useless to me.

The two bedrooms I remember (bedrooms are parts of myself I keep private).…let’s talk about the purple one. I remember feeling warm and welcome in both which means satisfaction in those areas. Nice to know the only area that still gets me is the bathroom. Feeling pretty good about the others I think…chasing away those specters again. Letting go of the past. But anyway…the purple room.

Purple stands for devotion, healing abilities, loving, kindness, and compassion. Inside I was protecting my energy and happiness (yellow canopy). The other bed had bright colored pillows…an awareness that I need to take it easy and be easier on myself.

The blue room… Blue represents truth, wisdom, heaven, eternity, devotion, tranquility, loyalty and openness. And optimism. There were two bunkbeds…which represent childhood and innocence. So four beds…and I have four children. Eternity, devotion, loyalty and optimism definitely fit into that well. (Ah, now the fact that these were bedrooms makes more sense. Look at all the protecting I’m doing!)

And now we go to the basement…regression into my subconscious. Which makes sense since basements represent the subconscious. And we’re in another corridor…mental passages with more self exploration…with ascending stairs everywhere…all of which symbolize possible routes for progress on spiritual, emotional and material improvements. I end up in the city with a storm over it…a representation of how unexpressed fears and emotions are keeping me from a deeper understanding of myself and therefore commonality with others. Which is interesting since I was escaping the emptiness with plans, that I discover the best way for me to equate with others is to better understand myself by facing my fears and emotions. Luckily, the storms also represent rising spirituality and rapid change. And then I open a closed door…the end of a phase of my life…and head outside.

Outside is freedom, openness and opportunity. I look at my house in need of repair which represents the way I used to feel…old beliefs and attitudes. I think the house is yellow for this reason…there is another connotation for yellow if the dream is bad (Which all the other dreams about this house were!) “It represents deceit, disgrace, betrayal, cowardice and sickness. You have a fear or an inability to make a decision or to take action. Your desire to please others is at the risk of sacrificing your own needs and happiness. As a result, you are experiencing many setbacks.”

The previous paragraph perfectly describes how I used to feel about myself. All that has changed! I think I have progressed, moved on, moved forward, found some security and have a few tasks ahead of me in order to truly be free.

Intellesting, Velly intellesting.

Brandon and the Birthday Buns

2011-04-15T23:51:00.001-04:00

This is skipping a few days, but it goes nicely with the birthday post, so we'll just put it here.

Long story short, Brandon Cardenaz was still here for a few days after we got back from Nauvoo and Maryn schmoozed him into making cinnamon rolls for her birthday treat instead of a cake. He was happy to oblige and happy to let them help.

So after the dough was made and risen, he rolled it out on the table. Until it was HUGE. Seriously, it practically took up an entire end of the table.

Then a stick of melted butter and an obscene amount of cinnamon sugar and brown sugar was strewn across the dough by hand. Maryn and Ashlyn were especially fond of this step.

It was rolled up (again, seriously huge) and then they cut the pieces of using dental floss. The girls thought this was amazing.

They baked until the entire house smelled incredible. Cream cheese frosting was made. This is the part where I don't tell anyone Brandon got a blister in the middle of his hand from stirring it with a fork. I also won't mention we actually own a hand mixer which he commented it would have been easier with but didn't ask.

The extra sacrifice must have made them extra tasty...

because the girls demanded these particular rolls need to be made for every single birthday from now until forever. Thanks Brandon. Way to live in California.

Party in the USA...Its Maryn's Day!

2011-04-15T22:44:00.001-04:00

Maryn's 11th birthday was April 12th. We had a birthday party a week early since it was spring break.

Just for backgrounds sake; here's how we work birthdays at our house. Every kid gets $100 for their birthday. They may choose to spend it on something of their choice or use it to pay for a party or a combination of any of the above. This includes the purchase of anything they want to eat, drink or do that is not usually in the house. 8th birthdays and 16th birthdays are on me and they get to keep all of their $100. It has been a wonderful and successful experiment, but that's another post.

The point is Maryn chose to spend about half of hers on a party. I admit to agreeing to a few extra things I paid for, partly because I really wanted her to have a cool party and have a chance to bond with her friends outside school. I remember how it felt at this age; fitting in is supreme. She has good friends I feel are mostly non judgmental, but she is at that weird stage where she's still a little girl and partly a young woman. So we compromised.

We played Just Dance 2 on Wii, then had everyone decorate their own cupcakes (Maryn provided all the decorations at her own expense since I don't really care that much). There was punch, pretzels, chips and popcorn out for everyone to nosh on while playing.

Here are the girls decorating...

Then we opened gifts. She got some fun stuff including a Justice and a Books A Million gift card, some cool paper and writing stuff and a newly beloved pillow pet she has LONG wanted...a unicorn she has named Princess Charlie (whatever).

Then we all went and saw HOP at the theaters. We came back, made mini pizzas and played some more before everyone left. I think it was fun. I was tired, so they must have had a good time!

Front Row: (L to R) Zeyneb, Paige, Kate, Eishat , Yasmin

Back: Hannah, Bethany and Krystyna Turner and Maryn

Typical

2011-04-05T23:17:00.002-04:00

So the “theme” of my blog, if you will, is finding joy in the journey. It’s about seeing the silver lining in the cloud and accepting what is happening even when things are not going the way you want them to go and making the most of it. I often wait until a moment occurs to share it and wax eloquent. It might be big news, or a big event, or a moment of illumination that becomes fodder for my posts. Discussions or comments that are out of the ordinary or funny also play a foundational role in my introspective writings.

Which is why this post is different. The last few days have not been interesting in any particular way. No one said anything really funny or profound. There was no catastrophe or glitch in the day that propelled me into chaos and self reflection. There was nothing in my life that fell into the usual categories as far as potential anecdotes for the revealing of my next profound moment self discovery.

Here is what I had to work with…

I took my 3 youngest to dinner at Red Robin and we went to a movie. We got a cookie covered caramel apple at Rocky Mountain Candy Company and shared it. My brother and his family came Saturday morning. The children got along well and the tiffs were few and far between. I made a green jello poke cake for my nephew’s birthday and my daughter’s favorite chicken and noodles at her request. I enjoyed my sister in law immensely and chatted and shared with her while my dad and bro went to priesthood meeting and my mother slept. I played Carcasonne with my family. We watched Tangled and Operation Petticoat. I played Boggle on my iPhone. We listened to and occasionally discussed conference. I took a nap and made homemade foccaccia and creamy tomato soup. I played a few games at the home of some friends after feeding my offspring leftovers. I ate brownies.

Nothing amazing. Mostly boring. All typical.

The regularity of my circumstances inflicted temporary blindness. When I thought I had truly nothing to write about, I realized that so much of what is good in my life I fail to celebrate because it is not earth shattering. And yet, so much of what is worth sharing, isn’t life altering. And every moment I live no matter how ordinary, is amazing because its mine to have and to own and to do with what I will. The joy in the journey isn’t in the mountains that are climbed, but in the naps by the stream as it quietly meanders away. You never see the silver lining if you aren’t watching the clouds. It’s in the picking of flowers not the creation of bouquets. And sometimes when things are just going I can remember that going nowhere is just as satisfying as getting somewhere when you are with the right people.

Illuminations, Complications and Explanations

2011-04-01T00:05:00.003-04:00

Illuminations

We spent 3 days of last week visiting, for assorted amounts of time, with a child psychologist trying to figure Conner out. I had a parent’s only meeting on Monday to get my insights and concerns. Wednesday was an hour and a half of testing for Conner. And Friday was evaluation and discussion. We threw 4 things on the table as possibilities as to why his behavior was erratic and he struggled academically; autism, depression, anxiety and ADHD.

And the winner was…ADHD.

Dr. Smith shared that he though Conner was very bright and quite capable…but very easily distracted and impulsive which led to inconsistent academic performance and behavior. Some of the depressive and anxiety symptoms were related to the ADHD since it probably is frustrating to feel out of control and like your just waiting to get in trouble for something you don't even mean to do... and decreases self esteem. Since home schooling is not a plausible option for me at this point in my life, we will be medicating. But a diagnosis gives us tools and parameters to work with. So that’s helpful.

Complications

My kids talked me into taking them swimming at the Y Saturday evening. I sat on the side and read and watched. 5 minutes into the playing, Ashlyn rushed over to me crying, “I hit my chin.” I put my book down. “Let’s see sweetie.” I was expecting a bump, bruise or scratch because she was only slightly whimpering.

Nah. Gaping inch long laceration.

Sweet.

I remained calm. “Okay, so everyone out of the pool. We need to go NOW. Lifeguard, bandage please.”

Mom and Dad were gone, so I called a neighbor and asked if the other 2 could come hang there while we made a trip to the ER. (Thank you Maddens!)

So she did need stitches. She was significantly less than thrilled about this news. The nurse asked if I would be comfortable holding her body down while he held her head still and the doctor did the sutures. I kind of laughed, smiled, and said “She’s my youngest of four.” Nurse; “Ah, well, then you’ll be just fine.” The doctor entered, and asked Nurse Mark, “Do we need to get someone else to help hold her?” Nurse Mark: “Nah. It’s her youngest of four.” Doctor nods knowingly. “Well okay then. Let’s do this!”

I just found the whole exchange amusing. I guess there are some “less experienced” parents who have had a problem restraining their child. Nope. Not me. Give me a squirmy kid and a reason to make it stop and I can bring it.

She screamed for 2 minutes while they numbed and washed her. Then she lay quietly while she was sewn together, telling the nurse and doctor how she was hungry and had been promised McDonald’s when we left.

Now she thinks she’s cool.

She went to school on Monday and I guess didn't say a thing to her teacher. I saw him Tuesday, and he told me he didn't even notice until halfway through the day she had a bandaid on. He asked her what happened and she simply said "I hit my chin on the pool at the Y." He jokingly said "Did you have to get stitches?" He was shocked when she nodded her head yes. "Really? Let me see." So he pulled back the bandage and (in his words) "Sure enough...there were three of the gnarliest stitches I'd ever seen right there!"

Happy stitches Lyni Lou!

Explanations

While we were waiting at the ER to be called back, Ashlyn sat quietly and nervously holding her raggedy pink blankie and a medium sized stuffed dog of the brown and white variety. I knew his name was Candy Cane, but had never thought to ask why. I should have thought about it, because all of her other animals are aptly and obviously named; a dinosaur named “Diney”, a duck named “Waddles”, a pink cat named “Pink Cat” and about half a dozen other animals whose names are Lily because it’s her favorite name. But a floppy brown and white dog named Candy Cane makes little sense.

So I took the opportunity to ask her about it. She quickly held up one of his paws. There, on the end, was a piece of nasty candy cane stuck to the fur. “See? It’s been there since last Christmas.”

Ahhhh. I see.

Measurable

2011-03-29T22:38:00.001-04:00

So last night I went to a wrestling banquet with Paul. It was to celebrate those who had excelled and recognize those who had tried. Perrysburg is a good wrestling school, and they had a lot to celebrate this year in terms of individual and team excellence. Paul was a first year JV wrestler. He won 2 matches all season. We knew none of those accolades would be his. But we went anyway, to celebrate with the others…and eat food.

All of the wrestlers decided to squish around 2 tables while the parents scattered around the. So 24ish boys of no mean size squashed around 2 round tables. Paul is one of the bigger boys, but he’s not too pushy and as space ran out he just kind of hovered at the edges. I noticed as they got their food and came back, he’d managed to join the main body of the group, so I continued talking to my own table mates without any concern.

I had to leave early for another meeting, and as I got up to throw away my plate I looked around to catch his eye and say good bye. He wasn’t at either one of the wrestler tables. He wasn’t in the food line. I looked around the commons area a little confused, and finally found him sitting with another boy on the perimeter of the room.

I was upset. I was frustrated with his teammates for pushing him to the outside when he just wanted to be included and they could be so thoughtless. I was sad for my son, because I never want him to feel as if he is unwanted or alone. It is not a feeling I would ever choose for him to feel. I didn’t know what to say or do for him to take away the reproach of the situation.

He saw me getting up, and stood, offering to take the plates of the other boy and his mother, who was also sitting at the table. He met me by the trash and put an arm around my shoulders.

“I’m sorry you’re alone.” I whispered so no one else would hear me.

He looked surprised for a moment, and then smiled down at me. “Oh. No mom. I went and sat there because HE was alone.”

I hugged my son without shame, in front on his teammates and his coaches and all the other parents.

“I know you aren’t getting any special awards tonight. But I am proud of you. I am more proud of you then I can even say. You are a good man.”

My son does not excel in areas that are easily measurable. He’s not at the top of his class academically. He isn’t athletic enough to get noticed by his peers. He can’t sing or play instruments with astounding proficiency.

And that’s okay. I don’t feel the need to press him to be better in any of those arenas. Because who is becoming, I believe, is a great person and a good man despite his “measurable” deficiencies. I feel blessed and humbled to be his mother.

The All Kid Channel, All The Time...seriously, like 24/7...

2011-03-24T22:51:00.002-04:00

First in tonight's line-up: Maryn Kate. 10 years old...almost 11...somewhat precocious... somewhat obnoxious...

Quotes:

Maryn: Mom, I know how to tell if a woman is pregnant or just really, really fat.

Me: Let’s just keep that little skill to yourself shall we?

Maryn: “We got a “goody bag” from growth and development today. I looked through it. There isn’t any candy. Everyone was disappointed. But there is a pad that looks like it’s for an American Girl doll.”

We were in Walmart and Maryn pipes up: "Mom? Are Aunt Jemima and Uncle Ben, like, together?" Me (laughing): "Why do you ask that?" Maryn: "Well, one's and aunt, one's an uncle and they're both black and old looking. So I just figured..."

You know how at the end of pharmaceutical ads they talk fast and low about possible side effects? As we kind of half listened in the car, Maryn suddenly perked up and asked. "Did they just say 'May cause excessive smiling?'". It was excessive SWELLING. Although friend pointed out the former could be true if it was ad for Botox...

Next we have the lovely Ashlyn Erma. She's just a bit of a stinker. My friend calls her the rabid squirrel. Yep. That about sums it up. You can see it in her eyes...

Quotes:

Me, to Ashlyn. “I like to hold you because you’re soft and squooshy.” Ashlyn; “It’s my cupcake jammies. They make me cuddly.”

She's more like a commercial instead of sitcom. :)

And the next show is Conner Vaughn. He tries so hard to be good and yet is so good at being a pain in the *beep*. What? What was that for? All I was gonna say was pain in the backside! Sheesh. Stupid censors.
Quotes:

Me: "Conner, can you not watch that now?" Conner: "Why?" Me: "Because it’s obnoxious." Conner: "What's obnoxious mean?" Me: "Annoying." Conner (With not too hidden glee in his voice): "Oooooo. I LIKE annoying things!"

Nurse (to Conner); "Do you get easily distracted?" Crumples face, "Well sometimes at school, it's like I...hmmm, I don't know." Pause. "Wait, what was the question again?" (Let's go ahead and mark yes on that shall we?)

And finally, the debonair Paul in a feature length film! He's the taller one on the right...

Co -starring, for one dance only...the incomparable Dayna M.

Quotes:

Tonight at dinner I dared Paul to eat 3 pieces of fruit I had "dropped" in mustard. He refused. The girls gave him crap. I said, "Its okay girls. He's just being a big fat wussy man." Paul: "Well, I don't see any of you eating it." Maryn:"We're being big fat wussy women. But thats okay, because girls are supposed to be wussy." Paul: "Wait. Did you just call yourself fat?"

Maryn was frustrated over her schedule for impending middle school.

Maryn:” Grrr. I wish I just knew my period schedule!” Paul: "Isn’t that like once a month?”

"Mom, I'd really like to go see a battle re-enactment. Its on my list of things I want to do before I die. Like go on a mission, get married, have kids...and discover the lost elfin civilization in Atlantis, establish contact and bring peace to all people."

Did I say feature length? Huh. Guess a lot of THAT ended up on the cutting room floor...

Puzzle

2011-03-24T22:29:00.000-04:00

So there is something that has been kind of swimming around in my brain. Which, knowing me, could be good or bad. I have a friend who is only 3 years younger than I am, and she and her hubby are expecting their first. I am ecstatic for them. They are good friends of mine, I enjoy their company. We come over to their house late, stay late, and play games. I can, because my kids are old enough for me to do that. I am in that phase of my life. When this beautiful little one is born, it will change their lives. I know it will. Because I’ve been there. I rode that pony already thank you very much. And here is what the race will look like. Gone are the friends over until midnight times, because you’re grabbing precious sleep whenever the baby is sleeping. Gone are the stacks of games of videos because you must baby proof the house (it takes all of one time for some finding little fingers to unorganize your alphabetically arranged DVD’s to move them to higher ground or another room with a door…and games have itty bitty pieces that little ones can choke on because everything MUST be explored with the mouth).

I don’t fit into that world. Not really. Not anymore. Because I have a son who, in 6 weeks time, will be turning 16. When it comes to kids, I am not even swimming in the same pond as they are.

And even the singles, although we a share a social situation, have yet to experience the joys of parenthood. I plan around concerts, homework and lessons…they plan around themselves. I get 5 people up and out the door in the morning. They get themselves up. This is not a bad thing. It’s just a different mentality.

So I try and hang out with people who have kids my age. And they are married. Happily married. And have no time to spare for me really because any rare spare time they find is invested in their spouse (As it should be!). And they politely invite me along on their outings, and I sit there smiling and feeling very fifth wheel even though they try not to. I can’t go out with my married friends who have kids my age because I’m not a couple. “Let’s invite Chiara over for games! Wait…we need 4 players…”

I feel very awkward…the “social situation” version of tween I suppose. I really don’t have all things in common with any one group. Three of the things that classify and define my situation right now are also mutually exclusive if you really want to fit in. “Single” and “Mom” and “30’s”. I don’t dislike being any one of them at once. Just maybe not all of them at the same time.

The Fifth Year: A Meeting With The Master Cartographer

2011-02-25T00:08:00.001-05:00

My take on the last five years is different than that of my children. I have been able to reflect both on what I have lost and what I have gained, which is a point they have not yet been able to get to. Mostly because I think they honestly believe they have gained nothing in the loss of their father. And for them, perhaps, this is right. But I need to start by being honest.

I miss being married. I like being married. But I do not miss the marriage Dave and I shared. His life was riddled with so many struggles that were both physical and mental. He was never quite the man he wanted to be. And he lamented that. He wanted to so much more than the sum of the path he had been given to travel. Being a part of his life was difficult. But when he was okay, it was really a lot of fun. And I knew he loved me. But I think he was just tired of the fight. It had been his battle for all of his life. And yet he accomplished so much despite the issues he owned; he was a missionary and a college graduate. A husband and a father. All things I think most people in his life would have never expected of him, and I am proud of him for his accomplishments.

He is no longer that weakened person. He is who he always wanted to be. And I am insanely happy for him because I love him. I know this is true. How? When I arrived at the hospital that night, after I was told and then saw his body just to let it sink in…I sat in a room with my father. Numb. And floating in a surreal fog. And I felt him come to me to say goodbye. And words passed through my mind I knew were his; “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you this way and I’m sorry for all that I did to you. I didn’t mean to.” Besides my happiness for my beloved David, I am happy for us too. He is still a part of our lives and does what he can for us from the other side. My children, and I for that matter, have a built in guardian angel with us. And he is there when he can be, because I know he is busy. There are moments when we know he is near. Ask anyone who has been to one of my kids baptisms J

I know this is the way to was supposed to be. For him. For us.

But it sure made a mess of the map I had all laid out for my life.

Those weeks following David’s death 5 years ago were times of choices and reflections for me. Here I had been given a new map from the Father. I certainly didn’t ask for it, but I felt like the previous map had been torn from my hands and burned. It was simply no longer an option. And the topography on this new map was so vague, and unknown and frightening…a wilderness of choices mostly. So true to form (I am my nature headstrong and a planner), I came up with a plan, somewhat independent of my Father in Heaven, of the journey I wanted to take in this wilderness and chose a destination that seemed positive, even righteous. Five years seemed like a good measure of my efforts, and I would return and report at that time (as it were) on the progress of my journey and whether or not I had reached my destination. But I made a commitment to consult with he who created the map, the master cartographer, about each bend in the road, each mountain and boulder, valley and river I faced. Despite my best intentions, what I truly wanted was the best path. And I knew who already had that mapped out perfectly. Although I thought I knew exactly what I wanted, more than that, I wanted my plans to align closely with His.

Suffice it to say that as my 5 year evaluation drew near, I was questioning my journey. The destination I had pinpointed years ago was on the other side of the wilderness…and included a husband and nuclear family and did NOT include being 35 and living with my parents without a full time job. I was worried that I had gone all “Children of Israel” on the plan and was being forced to wander the desert out of disobedience and haughtiness and lack of faith. I was terrified I had missed my mark because I had been a less then diligent daughter of God and had missed some key turns in the path because I simply was not listening from the inside out, but instead from the outside in.

So I went to the place where I knew I would feel closest to my Father and my Savior, the temple. For they are the Master Cartographers, they made the map I was given. They make everyone’s map, individually and with great care specific to the strengths and weaknesses of each precious soul. I was ready to answer for what I had done with mine.

Feeling like a failure, I went ready to be chastised. To be set right. To be redirected. So I pulled myself away from the world and prayed quietly and simply to try and open my heart to the promptings of the Spirit. I reflected carefully on the last 1825 days of my life and pondered the steps I had taken that had brought me to this point. And I asked what I had done wrong to have been lost in the apparent wilderness still.

And the answer surprised me.

I wasn’t lost at all. I was exactly where the Lord wanted me to be. All the choices I had made were the ones he had wanted me to make (for the most part…the big ones anyway). I was progressing in the manner He had intended for me to progress when he gave me the map. And what was more, I hadn’t actually ever been in the wilderness at all.

I was surprised but satisfied. My thoughts immediately turned towards my future and I sought answers and direction for this yet unrevealed part of my map…a job, a spouse, growing children. What should I do? What path should I take? How do I stay out the wilderness?

The answer was simple and perfect; “Worry less. Live more.”

I do worry. A lot. Almost to the point of obsession and often to the point of sleeplessness. And here was the One who knows me better than anyone else telling me to basically chill out.

It was as if He was saying, “I have taken care of you so far. And every time I have given you a step and you have taken it with faith and courage, you have drawn closer to me and to the destination I had in mind for you all along. Give it Me. Let Me take care of it. You know I will. And just move forward and enjoy the moments instead of worrying about where that moment will lead. I promise they will lead to joy if you let me guide you. Joy is all I ever intended for you from the beginning. Worry less about the future and how to get there. Live more in the moment and relish the peace and joy.”

I felt peace. And the words from a beloved hymn cam quickly to my mind… the verses perfectly summarizing the chain of thoughts and conclusions.

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.

I need Thy presence every passing hour;
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s pow’r?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.

This is what 5 years has meant to me…”I triumph still if Thou abide with me.”

The Fifth Year: The Children

2011-02-23T23:00:00.003-05:00

Fair warning…you may want to grab a Kleenex.

Last Friday marked a rather significant milestone for me and my children. It was the 5^th anniversary of their father’s passing. At the time, they were 10, 5, 3, and 1. Ashlyn and Conner have no actual memories of their dad, just borrowed ones from others or from home videos or from pictures. For me, this day has meant one thing. For my children, quite another. Let’s start with the children.

At the grave sight the day of the funeral.

For them, it is what they have missed. They want a dad more than anything. They have never known a life in memory with a father, and for them it just screams of injustice. It’s never fun to have to tell someone your dad died before you can even remember him. And then to watch all the other kids your age enjoy their fathers and have not even a memory of a moment to draw on. For Conner and Ashlyn, the grieving process has just begun, because it’s finally something they can understand. It comes in bits and pieces and spurts and we try and deal with it as needed. But again, its what they have missed by the simple thing of being fatherless. I figured it up; 1800 goodnight kisses (Unless your Ashlyn who demands 8 per night and then it’s more like 10,000), 2000 bedtimes stories, 30 birthdays, 2 baptisms, 2 ordinations, 250 family nights, 4000 family prayers, 15 first days of school, and 2 daddy daughter dances.

And those are just simple moments.

Things that most people take for granted, precious jewels of time that most of us cast aside because they seem so common place. And yet it is in those simplest of moments that lifetimes are created. And lifetimes are lost.

My children have lost a lifetime.

Maryn wrote this poem a few days before the anniversary.

February 18^th

February 18^th is my

least favorite day

It reminds me of

horrible things it

reminds me of

my Dear Daddy’s

Death and how

he is no longer

on this earth with

me. I know he is

safe with the all-

mighty god who toke

his last and long breath,

but there I

stand by his beautiful

grave asking him the

best.

These pictures were all snapped by my aunt. I find it significant that this one was on the CD she gave me.

The day after Dave died, I had the job of telling my children their dad was not coming back. Conner and Ashlyn were too young to understand. But Maryn did. I pulled her on my lap, and shared with her the news. Tears began to roll down her cheeks, and she looked up at me as her arms wound around my neck.

"Will he still be my daddy in the resurrection?"

I replied that he would. She pulled me closer and whispered;

"Then I will be okay."

He died that we might live again. That those relationships we build and hold most dear in this life might still be associations we keep in the life after this. The pure and simple faith of a 5 year old who had just lost her father taught me that. It will all be okay. Because He lives, and loves us, it is all truly okay.

Quote of the day

2011-02-23T22:30:00.001-05:00

Its been awhile, so here it is: QUOTE OF THE DAY- Paul "Mom, grandma...if you were stuck on a deserted island and could have any three resources, what would you choose? And that doesn't count water or vegetation. And pigs ...pigs count as vegetation."

The Truth Behind the Tart

2011-01-17T00:12:00.000-05:00

So I have been browsing this book called “Cherries in Winter”. It’s very charming actually. Suzan Colon shares her own, her mother’s and her grandmother’s stories of life and perseverance in tandem and parallel one with another.
There was one particular part that caught my eye.

Suzan shared how she had been attempting to make her grandmother’s lemon meringue pie. Let’s just say it didn’t go well and her take on the “execution” of the pie was rather amusing. But even as she dumped the egg whites that simply would not meringue -up down the sink and lamented her partial pie that seemed flatter and not much like her grandmother’s at all (although she outright rejoiced over the homemade crust!) her husband assured her it was fine. It could just be a tart and it would taste great. But Suzan continues to be distraught because she wanted a pie. She meant to make a pie, she followed the recipe for a pie, and instead got a tart.

She paralleled this perceived failure with the experience her and her husband were having at that time. They had been married later in life (41 for her, 43 for him),but had decided to try and have a child anyway. They both wanted it very much. They tried everything possible, and every month when her period started she would cry. Finally her husband, holding her one night, asked with a voice cracked with emotion “What are we doing wrong?”. Her response was “Nothing. We’re fine.” And it was in that moment that she realized they really were fine…there was nothing wrong with who they were.
To make plain her metaphor: She wasn’t content with the tart because she had been so focused on the fact it wasn’t a pie. But then again, there was certainly nothing wrong with the tart (outside of the fact it wasn’t a pie).

I sat back, closed the book, and immediately found the parallel with Suzan’s story in my own life.
My life is a tart. And I have been terribly unhappy with my tart-ness because what I was really trying to make all along was a pie. I grew up being taught to be a pie. The flaky crust (myself), the lustrous sweet (and sometimes sour) filling (my kids) and the meringue… fluffy, sweet and protective (a marriage to a good man) on the top.
And yet…here I am meringue-less.
And no matter how much I beat those egg whites, they refuse to become meringues.

And so I lament my tart-ness, pining for the pie I should have been, I planned to be, and that everyone else seems to create with far less effort. But perhaps I was never meant to be a pie…and maybe I’ve been missing out on the delights of being a tart because I’ve been grieving my apparent failure.And it was in that moment I realized that I hadn’t failed at all. There is absolutely nothing wrong with tarts. What would this world be if there was only one choice of dessert? I may even grow to hate chocolate cake if that were the case. And so instead I will enjoy the tart that was supposed to be a pie, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

List Maker

2011-01-16T22:29:00.000-05:00

Ashlyn, much to my delight (and often amusement) likes to make lists. She loves them. There is usually one, sometimes two that I see per day. And what is so fun for me, is that she write phonetically according to her first grade knowledge. And she writes lists she feels are logical and important. It is a great insight into how her mind works.

(I will first write the words out exactly as she did, and then offer a translation)

This list is for her birthday party…which is in July. She plans and re-plans it daily and gives me an update on her planning. Here are her plans:
Cake (cake)
Tencrbell toys (Tinkerbell toys)
Frasting candls (Frosting, candles)
Riben ballonns (ribbon, balloons)
Table cloth food table (tablecloth, food, table)
emvatashens (invitations)
And her guest list:
Sindne (Sidney), Jenna, Kacy, Emma, Ella, Lora (Laura), hania (Hannah), behtne (Bethany), krastena (Kristina)

This list I found her making one night on her bed after we had discussed the possibility of going to California as a family. She was elated and immediately began making plans (where she got that from, I will never know)

Californy (California)
Emte 3 playr (MP3 player)
Pelo blanket stuft anamli (Pillow, blanket, stuffed animals)
Clos undrwer socks (Clothes, underwear, socks)
Shoos (shoes)
Chaptstick (Chapstick)
Angalena blaren movies books (Angelina Ballerina, movies, books)
Camra (Camera)
Neckles (necklace)
Sticor creashen (Sticker Creashen)

I love it! It just overflows with cuteness and curiosity! Only two lines are absolute essentials and the rest are the things she has determined are important to this journey. It cracks me up.

The Gift

2011-01-10T23:49:00.000-05:00

So in our famly we have this great gift. It is indescribable in many ways. And yet, a few choice words have been assigned to it.

It reminds me of something that should be dangling from the limbs of an evergreen draped in lights and tacky tinsel.
Or something straight out of Aladdin ("Dead Sea tupperware. Phhhbt. Still good.").

Either way...My brother and his wife bought it for my mom as a gag gift.

A little while later, they got it back from her as a joke.

And the game was on.

Everyone has had it in their posession at one point or another.

It has been wrapped in shiny paper at a wedding, tied with ribbon for birthdays, and presented as "Welcome home from your mission" gift. We though about sending it to Brazil when one of my brothers was down there, but we were afraid since the Brazilians are notorious for pre-opening packages, someone would think it was shiny and from America and keep it. Plus Bryant said he wouldn't have made room in his luggage to bring it home. Obviously he has his priorities all messed up.

It has also been given on the sly, or in disguise. Like this last time. Garrett and Amanda had it. They sent it home from Utah with Tamra and had Tamra wrap it and bring it as a white elephant to our family party. It was a in the biggest box under the tree, tucked safely in a brown box splattered with pleas "I'm the best present under this tree! Take me!" or "You'll love me, I promise!" and "You'll hurt my feelings if you don't pick me. No, Seriously."
Awesome!

And the lucky recipient...Bryant!

You never know when it will show up. Or how it will come to be in your posession. Or even when it will be useful. Like the time my mom's hand pump on her REAL soap dispenser broke and she traded it out.

So now besides being horrifically ugly, it also doesn't work.
Shame that.

-I will refrain from making snide (and yet loving) brother comments at this point. -

Anyway, the funny thing about this gift is that even though its the less then perfect gift we would all be a little sad if it disappeared.

It is, after all, the gift that truly keeps on giving.

Or maybe because its mere presence reminds of something...
We will always have each other.
Even when we can't see each other, we know the others are around and will eventually show up.
And we may just show up when you least expect us, but its more likely at birthdays and weddings and holidays.
Or missions.
Sometimes the wrappings and the situations may change, but whats inside the package will never alter.
And we all know what's ugly inside and manage to not mind when we show up anyway, because it makes it kind of fun and gives us a reason to laugh.
And it helps us remember how precious the simplest things are when shared with people who love you.

For : My Mom, Dad, Melanie, Robert, Bryant, Garrett (And Amy!).
The people who know all my ugly secrets but continue to believe the best of me. They back me up, pick me up, and hold me up.
They are the greatest gift I have ever received.

And I don't mind at all if they show up when I least expect it.

Payback

2011-01-10T10:18:00.002-05:00

Last night at supper, Conner and Ashlyn were both seated on the piano bench since they have the smallest behinds. A kafuffle ensued. There was spitting, and hitting and pushing. And when the grownups intervened; there was blaming from Conner and looks of sweet (fake) innocence from Ashlyn. And Conner was told he needed to move over to another chair. He refused. Refusal is not acceptable in our home. So dad got up to physically move Conner to where he was told to go. As he was being towed away from the bench, he broke free long enough to run over to Ashlyn, lean in very close, and menacingly announce through clenched teeth “You’re going to pay for this!”

Threats also do not go over well in this house and grandpa placed a firm hand on his hind-end as he was not too gently placed into his new chair. Two rivers of silent tears formed on his cheeks as he continued to (more quietly) protest. “But she HIT me!” (More innocent looks from Ashlyn…who then in fairness was also moved, cried, and ended up in her room for 10 minutes because she was hysterically sobbing over moving to the other side of me. Drama.)

Things calmed down and the evening continued without further incident.

This morning we got up and started getting ready for school. Ashlyn was frantically and whinily looking for her shoes. She is infamous for not really looking at all, but just standing there whining about not being able to find something until I go find it for her. So this morning I told her 4 places to look, and that if she came back and said they weren’t there, and then I went and found them where she had previously “looked” that her Angelina Ballerina doll would have to sleep with me tonight instead of with her.

She was motivated.

And she diligently looked in all the places I suggested to no avail.

Finally, grandma suggested she look upstairs. She came back down with them a few minutes later, declaring they had been hidden somewhere obscure (I don’t remember where now).

Suddenly, at the table, cereal bowl before him, spoon in hand…Conner smiles impishly. “I told you you would pay for it.”

That little stinker.

I’m trying to be angry. But that is honestly exactly the kind of payback I can appreciate.

The Whole Fam Damily...

2011-01-09T22:14:00.001-05:00

So Mom and Dad got everyone PJ's for Christmas Eve! I haven't had new Christmas Eve Pj's in years! I always get them for my kids, though. And everyone still loved theirs. My pants, should you not be able to tell, are polar bears on black. I also got a teal plaid pair.

Ashlyn has fleecy cupcake jammies, Paul has Star Wars pants and a few new t-shirts. Conner has Mario Brothers and Maryn's are plaid with a penguin tank top.

We all put our toes in the middle and took a picture of our pants. :)

Except for mom and dad.

Rob and Tamra and kids came up Christmas day afternoon. Garrett, Amanda and Bryant were already here, and Mel and Kirk came up on the 26th after church. That's 22 people in this house. 22! It was...cozy:) But always fun.

Rob, Bry, Garrett and I sang "Gesu Bambino" in church that morning. It was lovely (I think). Then we had our official Christmas Party. We had ham and some delicious sides. And for dessert whatever sweetness we were all trying to get rid of. Then we played Christmas Bingo. Lesson learned...play 2 games. One for adults and one for kids. Reason? Some of the white elephant offerings were cool...if you were a grown up. My poor 6 year old nephew opened a book called "The Belly Fat Cure" and immediately burst into tears. My sister in law took pity on him and traded him her beach balls. Her and my brother ended up really liking the book. So we're trying to come up with a different plan for the kids for next year. But the good news is Bryant got "The Gift" (another long story which truly deserves it's own post). We wrapped it up, got kids in bed (after a little 6-11 year old girl drama about who was going to sleep with whom and how none of the ideas the parents came up with were good enough...whining commences, complaining commences...all girls assigned to their parents rooms for the night. )and played games! Well, one game actually. A new fun game that is like Balderdash but less complicated. And just as fun.

Mom wanted a nice picture of everyone.

Unfortunately, this is the best we could do.

Now that's more like it. Thackers in their natural habitat.

Note the bizarre behavior.

Note it...and run away.

A Licking...

2011-01-09T22:10:00.001-05:00

So yesterday Conner got frustrated with my mom and stuck his tongue out at her, which she, of course, immediately called him on. Grandma: "Conner! Did you just stick your tongue out at me!?!" Conner: "No! I have diseased lips and I was just licking them!"

Christmas Program

2011-01-04T22:49:00.000-05:00

The younger kids also did a program. It was very good! The music teacher used tracks to accompany them and they sang some fun songs like the "Christmas time is here..." song from Peanuts and "Happy Christmas (War is Over)" and they did a good dang job.

Here is my little Erma girl, looking for me.

And she found me :)

And so did Conner!

A Cause for Mrs. Clause

2011-01-04T22:46:00.000-05:00

Maryn auditioned for and got a part in the 5th grade play at Ft. Meigs this year. She was Elf #6! But she has some lines and was on stage a lot. It was a really cute and clever play and quite good actually.

Here she is all elfed out...

The enthusiasm here is truly contagious...

The set and all the elves and Santa...

And they take a bow!

I think it gave her a taste for the theater. She wants to try out for the middle school musical next year. I think she can do it!

Hooters :)

2011-01-04T22:35:00.000-05:00

A few days before Christmas, we discovered a special visitor had taken up residency in our mailbox...an owl. He stayed there are day. My dad, my kids and my brothers spent most of the day going out and checking on our little friend. Sadly, by the next morning, he had left for other boxes.
.

Christmas Decor 2010

2010-12-04T23:55:00.002-05:00

So mom told Maryn that she could complete the family room decorations. It kind of looks like the Christmas rubbermaids threw up all over the place. Lights draped on anything and everything, random groupings of assorted decorative elements...

Like this faithful nutcracker soldier carefully guarding the mailbox while legions of snowmen prepare the onslaught...

Obviously mister tall hat on the floor there FAILED at his job since the blue box he's guarding has obviously been compromised. And what's kilt boy on the right there doing? That's right...NOTHING.

I am especially fond of the Santa on the polar bear on the sled on the TV....

And the figurine on top of the snowman box in the basket under the lights...

Now, this isn't bad at all. I like the balance and the overall feeling. Except one can't help wonder if Santa is practicing those squeazy chimney moves by smooshing himself into a remote control caddy. Love the "one ball only" snowman guards. Cheaper then other snow folk security because they take up less space and don't need as much to eat...

This is our tree...nothing smart alecky to say on this one. I like it! Except for the random poinsettia bush sprouting on the right there...
The string of lights continues... Something about the plastic Santas and resin nativity in front of the fireplace makes me feel...oh, I don't know...all warm and melty inside...

And of course the traditional decorated "half- dead- stick- branch- thing-mom- needs- to- stop- trying- to- save- this- plant "decoration no home should be without. The bow is basic home decor 101 type stuff...

Now these were meant to be pretty. So no comments from the peanut gallery please...

Wisemen...

2010-12-04T23:04:00.003-05:00

Paul had an opportunity to be part of a live nativity this evening! He was a wise-man. Well, you know...as close as he could get ;) I had to threaten to wack him one. It took me 5 shots to get him to stop messing around and just let me take a picture. Are you allowed to smack a wise-man?

His quote, "In order to truly be a wise-man, you have to be half crazy first."

Lights

2010-11-21T18:40:00.003-05:00

Last night was the ceremonious tree lighting at Levi's Commons. We decided to go over and see the 50 foot tree come to life. Santa was there. and there were carriage rides. But the lines for each were so long, we didn't get to do either. So we went and stood by the tree with our friends the Turners. They passed around candles and there were some singers and performances. Then they counted down to the lighting. It was very pretty.Here are some pics from the evening.

Maryn and her magic hat (It makes here do chores without complaint!) by the tree. Love this picture.

The kids in front of the base of the tree.

The tree as it was first lit. I wonder how many lights there are on this thing?!?!

Ashlyn holding a candle. I lvoe the glow on her sweet little face.

Robert, Nathan, Ashlyn, Caleb, Hannah, Krystyna and Maryn share their light!

Socks

2010-11-20T21:43:00.002-05:00

This morning the kids and I went to Toledo Public Library and helped hand out socks to homeless and needy folks. There were other groups there besides Hannah's Socks passing out toiletries, food and clothing. There were droves of people. Mostly black men. Somehow smiling. Some even laughing. And it was cold. And it was going to get colder. We gave out all the socks and went back to out warm car which would take us to our warm house with food waiting. And I was grateful.

A trip to the store

2010-11-19T23:26:00.005-05:00

So this evening we had the Turner children (all 8 of them!) over to watch a movie, have pizza and generally eat crappy food. It was fun. But first we had to go and get pizza for that many people and grab some Twizzlers. Ashlyn wanted to go with me. But first, she had to prepare. Here is a picture of what she wore and what she took to go grab Twizzlers and pizza.

Pink Dora Crocs?

Check.

Fairy wings?

Check.

Blue Velor pants?

Check.

Jasmine Nightgown?

Checkity Check.

2 books, a pencil, and 3 blankets.

Checkity Check Check Check.

Homemade Fairy Crown?

Left it at home because she ran out of room.

Captain's Log

2010-11-18T21:38:00.000-05:00

So, I have always liked Star Trek. Next Generation was my favorite. And I super like the new movie with Chris Pine as James T. Kirk. Best. Kirk. Ever. Yowza.

But beside drooling over hot guys in uniform, there was something else I learned from Star Trek. Captain’s Log. This is a check point for my Captain’s Log.

We have recently finished the first part of new journey. And although we aren’t really going where no man has gone before, we are going somewhere we have never been before as a family. And boldly going into the unknown takes a bit of courage.

I presented the plan to my children and gave them the opportunity to post legitimate objections. They did post objections, but none were truly legitimate or insurmountable. I was very prayerful about this choice. And encouraged my oldest children to discover whether or not it was the right thing for us on their own terms and in their own hearts. I reminded them gently that most often the right thing is not the easy thing. I felt very strongly that if we stayed in Maria Stein, we would have been fine, but moving here would be better. It meant the difference between treading water enough to keep my head above water and swimming toward something.

So now that 3 months have passed, here are the benefits I see from the move.

1) High school. Okay, now at first, the HS freaked Paul out. Its huge. Practically the entire Marion Local High School can fit in the Commons area. Okay maybe the commons and the gym, but you get the idea. But with size there are benefits. More kids mean more diversity. Here, there are many ways to fit in and lots of people to find that you can have things in common with without creating that commonality through alcohol (a huge ML issue). There are more programs, more clubs, more classes. And now, he loves it. He is coming to terms with loving it here and not feeling unfaithful to his friends from ML. He got a B average on his last report cards…first time ever…and has moved out of an academic assist study hall into a regular study hall. This is a shout out to all the ML teachers, his IEP coordinator has commented frequently on how well trained he is. He comes in with his work, sits down, and actually does stuff.

2) Seminary. This is another Paul benefit. He loves seminary. Loves it. He is the first one there every morning. He participates and volunteers. He got an A+ first quarter. He originally suggested a B to his teacher and she laughed at him. Silly lad. He loves the camaraderie with the other LDS students as well. Which leads to…

3) Church. Here, because his dad only lives 20 minutes away (benefit or drawback depending on who you are and what week it is), Paul can attend church every week. With his mission literally 3 ½ years away, I can only see benefits of this. He is the 1^st counselor in the teachers quorum, and loves the fact that there are 20 young men. I know the others are adjusting well to their schools and their teachers only have good things to say about them. Except for Conner. But he’s Conner, and his teacher adores him despite his imperfections. He is often described as charming.

4) This has been a lot about Paul, but I have seen benefits too. I had no idea how stressed I was, until I was no longer in that situation. I yell way less than I did in MS, mostly because I am functioning on a much lower level of frustration. I love taking my kids to school and picking them up. Love it. And volunteering. I want my work to work around my kids, not the other way around. I love helping them with has their homework, and being available to them both physically and mentally. I didn’t realize how hard it was until I wasn’t doing it any more.

Women's Suffering

2010-11-16T22:52:00.003-05:00

Paul was telling me today after school about some guest speakers they had in their CIA class (Contemporary Issues in America).I think their main purpose was to get the kids to think about serious questions. And I guess they did.

Paul; "So they asked whether or not we thought they should vote to get rid of women's suffering...you know..the right to vote."

Suffrage...suffering...same thing...

Although very often the right to speak my own mind does lead to suffering.

Frustration

2010-11-14T23:11:00.001-05:00

So for the last 3 weeks I have been doing this diet challenge. The first week I lost 6 pounds. And I was excited. But these last 2 weeks, even though I changed nothing about my eating habits, the weight loss has slowed. Significantly. And when I can't see progress I get discouraged. When my efforts continue but I get no pay off, it gets hard. Weight loss is not the only area I seem to struggle with this is. How can I be patient and stay motivated when it feels like anything I do will only sink me deeper in the mire?

Hannah's Socks

2010-11-12T18:50:00.003-05:00

We live down the road from some wonderful people. They have 8 children ages 5 to 11 they have fostered and then adopted. Five years ago, they were serving Thanksgiving Dinner at a homeless shelter, and their then 4 year old daughter, Hannah noticed with concern a man without socks. Although her mother tried to reassure her, Hannah was persistent in her concern, and finally told her mother that the man could have her socks. The next day the turners purchased several pairs of socks and took them back to the mission. There was a need, and soon others got wind of the project. Four years later, they have a building and are an incorporated non profit agency. Last night was their open house. We went in support of the Turners, but also because since moving here my kids have become involved on the junior board doing service and I may be serving on the actual board.

Here are excerpts from a book that was written for children about philanthropy. Hannah and her story are included on these pages:

And this is Ashlyn and Maryn with some of the Turner kids at the Hannah's Socks office; Hannah and Bethany (back row left and right) and Faith (in front).

Listening

2010-11-11T15:50:00.001-05:00

I want to share a story with you that happened almost ten years ago that seems somewhat relevant here. We were living in the country and I was driving home from the school when I happened to look over the side of the bridge that crossed the ditch that split the fields and crossed the road. And I saw something strange. There was an empty truck nose down in the ditch. Now we lived in crazy country, and I at first figured that some lunatic farmer had let his 10 year old drive the truck across the field and it ended up there. But something whispered to me to stop. So I did. I craned my neck to see if anyone was in the cab. No one was,so I put the car back in gear to continue. But something whispered in my mind, "Get out and look over the side." I did. And there, in the bottom of the ditch lying in an inch of water on a frigid October morning was a man. I cried out and heard in response gasps and chokes. He was alive. I was only a half mile from home (and had no cell phone back then)so I rushed there, sent my husband down to the ditch to stay with him and check his vitals (but not to move him) and called 911. David went to the hospital and found out the rest of the story.

He had been coming home from a night shift at work, and less then a mile from home, had fallen asleep for a moment. When he gathered himself after hitting the bottom of the ditch, he wasn't bleeding and decided to move over and get out. He had no idea his pelvis had crushed against the steering wheel, and when he put the weight on his feet, he collapsed to the ground. Unable to move, he cried out to every car and truck he heard pass; dozens in two and half hours. But no one saw him. No one heard him. He cried and prayed, pleading with God to help him somehow. And he did. Someone was listening with something besides their ears. When he knew he had been found, the gasps and chokes I heard were him sobbing with relief.

I thought about how grateful I was that day that I had been listening. And I realized something. So often we find ourselves in the ditches of life. Our cries are too small to be heard and no one sees us. I have tried to live my life in such a way that I could hear with my heart when others are in the ditch, and hope that others would be listening when I found myself in a ditch.

Adrenaline Rush

2010-11-10T22:01:00.002-05:00

So it happened. Today my son got his permit. In celebration I immediately took him to the church parking lot and we had our first driving lesson. He did not as bad as I thought he would and it was not nearly as terrifying as I thought it would be.

Funny though...I had him let up on the brake and drive with just the power to practice maneuvering in slow motion. The slower the better from my point of view. At one point, he was doing well and I encouraged him to pick up the speed. And he did...to about 10 miles per hour.

So here we are, speeding along the edge of this parking lot about as fast as I can run sideways, and my son excitedly states, "This is such an adrenaline rush!"

Quote of the day

2010-11-09T08:06:00.002-05:00

Ashlyn: "Mom, is Paul-y getting his drivers thingy today?"

Mom: "Yes."

Ashlyn:" Well what if he drives and gets in a car accident?"

Mom: "He won't. I'll drive with him."

Ashlyn: "But what if he does? Will he have to get the money to pay for your car?"

Mom: "I guess so."

Ashlyn: "Then how would you get to work because you wouldn't have a car because Paul crashed it."

Pause.

Ashlyn: "Maybe you shouldn't let him get it mom."

Warm Water

2010-11-08T23:24:00.000-05:00

I woke up yesterday feeling sore and achy and still exhausted. I was able to drag myself out of bed long enough to get in the shower. I love the way nice hot showers feel in the morning, how they rejuvenate and alleviate the pain. This particular morning as I let the water trickle over my head and shoulders, I remembered some words from a non-nonsense nurse who attended to me after Conner’s surgery birth eight years ago. Her words of wisdom I have never forgotten, and often repeat them to myself on mornings such as this. “There isn’t much warm water won’t fix.”

It was true in the moment she had shared it with me. I had been laying in bed mostly numb form the waist down for 36 or more hours. I felt gross. C-section surgeries do not keep the patient clean and tidy. I was physically and mentally wiped out and in a pain. Every time I stood up I felt fairly sure my guts were going to fall on the floor. Dave had to help me with the 100 tiny steps it took to get to the bathroom 5 feet away. But once I was in the shower, everything changed. The pain didn’t go away (come on, let’s be serious about that…less than a day and half before my insides had been on my stomach and an 8 pound infant yanked out from under my ribs)and I was still a little stooped and slow, but it suddenly felt manageable. I felt clean and more relaxed…and human.

For some reason this Sunday morning shower and the warm water turned my thought in a different direction. I began to think about the scriptures, and how often water is referred to in some form or another and all the things it represents. I was still thinking as I dried off and got ready for the Sabbath. As I waited for my hair to dry, I began flipping through the scriptures and I discovered a few things. In the times that the scriptures were written water was a precious commodity. Nearness to it dictated survival. It stood for health and well being. It was also cleansing. The earth was cleansed by water while Noah was in his boat. The Savior himself entered into the waters of baptism to begin his mission here on the earth.

And then I found a term; living waters. In each verse this term appeared in, it was followed by a very specific description of what these living waters represented. There were two main themes that I felt closely coincided with the Jewish perception of the infinite value of water; The love of God and the Word of God or the gospel.

Is it then not accident that when we are baptized we are immersed in the love of God and His word and come forth again new? Is it not true that our nearness to him ensures our spiritual survival just as nearness to the water ensured the physical survival of the people long ago in the scriptures?

Whenever the world and the day to day life it brings shamelessly to my doorstep leaves me feeling in pain, slow, sore, bent over and exhausted, I can bath myself in His “living water”, warm water that is perfect for what ails my soul and will leave me feeling rejuvenated and refreshed and will leave the pain I feel…manageable. Truly, as that nurse said, there is very little a little warm water won’t fix.

Football Man

2010-11-05T16:38:00.004-04:00

Conner decided he wanted to play football outside. This is his outfit. The helmet is one his dad had for decoration and is currently hanging on his wall. I let him pay with it on. Dave isn't here to stop me :)

A day in the life...

2010-11-04T23:03:00.003-04:00

Get up, Maryn up,Find clothes for kids, Make scrambled eggs, Take Maryn to practice, Make sure kids are ready, find socks, take mom to school, take kids to school, come home, get Tank dressed, exercise, shower, check facebook and email, go get groceries, drop Tank off at Luce's, go to dental clinic at UT, find out I need to either pull the tooth in question or have a $1000 crown put on, come home, get Tank, call Melanie and ask what I should do about tooth situation, pick up kids, pick up mom, unload groceries, put away groceries, make dinner, load dishwasher, play UNO with Maryn and Ashlyn, Homework, Tell kids to shower, watch the Mentalist, Go to bed. The End.

One day at a time

2010-11-03T22:22:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I wish tomorrow would just get here faster. This patience and learning from your experience is for the birds. I am not by nature the type of person who reads all the way through a book beginning to end. No, I am the one who reads the first 5 chapters, skips to the last 3 and then goes back through the middle chapters sporadically to get the gist. This concept does not work well in life. I want to know how it ends. But then again, if I knew how it ended, I would likely just skip all the middle.

Vote

2010-11-02T22:33:00.002-04:00

Conner was super excited today was election day. Way more then I was. He woke up; "Hooray! It's election day!" And I almost didn't go vote. But then I thought about stories I read about women spending time in prisons for asking for the right to express their opinion. And then another conversation I had with a visitor from China came to mind. Somehow we started talking about voting, and I stated that at the last election I didn't go. She nodded knowingly, and said, "Ah, because it was too dangerous to go." I felt sheepish replying that it was because I was getting a haircut and forgot. Often, when a gift is simply given to us, we don't appreciate it because we didn't work for it.

It is a gift to be allowed to choose.

Lord Grant Me the Patience...

2010-11-01T23:16:00.002-04:00

I found this cross stitch in the closet.

I remember this from when I was little. My mother had it hanging on the wall above the piano in Evanston . I can see its place on the wall very, very clearly in my childhood memory file.

But I don't remember seeing it after we left Wyoming.So I find it very interesting it has survived that many moves.

I remember liking it as a child, but not really understanding it. And wondering why it was in such a prominent place in our home where surely, all could see it each and every day.... especially my mother.

But now I TOTALLY get it.

Like when I say to myself "I wanted children. I had each of them on purpose. What the helenore was I thinking?"

Or when my sister and I call each other, children screaming hysterically in the background and one will say to the other..."Tell me why again?"

And the other will say, "Because its part of the plan of happiness. Children bring you joy. Blah, Blah, Blah."

Children are essential to growth. They compress you and stretch you and force you to face everything and ignore other things and make choices and be vague and be firm and be flexible and let go and hold on and look forward and analyze your past...without giving up or giving in.

Truly, Lord...grant me the patience to endure my blessings.

Halloweenin'

2010-10-31T22:44:00.004-04:00

So this is the first time since my kids have been alive that we have not lived out in the middle of nowhere. Our first Halloween in suburbia has convinced by children of the benefits of living in town and not in the country. We went out for just over an hour and had a marvelous time running from house to house and then swimming in the candy we brought home.

I decided to be frugal his year and make their costumes. For those of you who doubt this, making costumes is not more frugal. It was kind of fun though, even if it led moments of mommy shouting. “Leave me alone! Can’t you see I’m busy doing something nice for you! Go Away!”

But I felt overall pleased with how well they turned out.

Maryn was invited to go trick or treating with her friend Kate and another friend Zenub (sp?). So they met at Kate's house.

This Maryn as Dorothy and Kate as Frankenstein's girlfriend...or something like that. Zenub got there much later after I left.

Here are Conner as Mario, Tank (who's visiting) as a pony, and Ashlyn as Tinkerbell in front of Grandpa's Christmas Grinch he put up because he's weird like that. He kept wishing all the children good holidays that were not Halloween. There were some very confused small children in Perrysburg. This is what's wrong with our education system today. They let people like my dad teach little kids :).

Contrary to what one might believe upon appearances, the guy in the hoodie is NOT the Grinch even though he might look like it. That was the green guy on the lawn. He also threatened to turn on the Christmas Fire DVD and play Mannheim Steamrollers. If anyone wants to know why I'm not normal, come to my house for a day or two. Clarity will abound.

We met up with Kate and Maryn by accident. Okay not entirely by accident. We knew they were giving out full size candy bars at Kate's house so we kind of headed that direction. Tank lost it about 15 minutes after this. Dad came and picked him up. The little horsey had run his last race, but he was a big hit while he stayed with us.

Some trick our treat pics. This is at the house of our friends the Maddens. Gummy body parts. Awesome.

Some random people I thought looked cool. I want to confess the shot was set up. I tried taking it au natural but couldn't quite get it. The ladies were laughing and laughing. And Ashlyn kept wondering why they kept fake giving her the same piece of candy 5 times.

This is also a friend. Dayna Miller. Her mom's sewing machine was behind the creations you have been enjoying.

And a Happy Halloween to all...and to all a fabulous sugar high deterred only by your mother forcing you to eat apples or carrots or some other such nonsense.

Devastated

2010-10-29T20:22:00.002-04:00

I can not always live in a bubble. I found out tonight that someone who used to work with Melanie and I was shot by her estranged husband today and then he killed himself. There were 7 children in the house (she had some of her own and ran an in home daycare) who were unharmed. It was another reminder to me of how real Domestic Violence is and what the affects can be. I cried for almost half an hour from shock. Then have been in a zombie - like state for a while. It feels more like a "Lifetime" movie then real life. But it should explain why I do not feel like typing more than a little even thought it is my goal to be faithful.

Of boats and oars and bad metaphors...

2010-10-28T21:40:00.004-04:00

There are days when I feel like I have it all together.

This is not one of those days.

At all.

I have felt short on patience and long on procrastination. I have argued separately with each of my children about something or other and realized that a paper I though wasn't due until Sunday is, in fact, due today. And there is no way I will be able to get it done before I have to got to bed in an hour. I'll have to take the 5% penalty. But even worse, I found out 4 of my other assignments were late for the same reason.

I was a little frustrated to discover one source of income I thought I could depend on ($600 a month worth of income) ...I can't. Major readjustment. I need a job. Really. Thinking about that a lot. 3 hour meeting. Trying to figure things out is mentally exhausting. I walk into the basement and see my kids clothes everywhere and just want to lose it. Trying not to lose it. Kind of just want to go to bed and sleep it off.

Not the worst day of my life. Just sort of...blah. I try and focus on singing in the lifeboat, on finding the good in the bad; but there are seriously just days when it feels like you're not even floating there being battered to and fro by the waves. You're stuck on a stinking sandbar and the water is still except for the occasional shark that stops by and smiles at you like we smile at turkey and stuffing on Thanksgiving day. And thats nearly as frustrating as the storm.

Go away sharks.

I have an oar and I know how to use it.

Paycheck

2010-10-27T22:03:00.002-04:00

So one of the roles take pride in playing in my life (just a role, not the entire identity of who I am…but that’s another post) is that of mother. And it is a tough role. Tough crowd. They boo at you a lot. And it is very time consuming and the pay, most of the time, is terrible. Actually, you often don’t get paid at all. We should start a petition or call a union rep or something.

But, when you play the role to the best of your abilities and with all your heart, might, mind and strength, there are occasional payouts that have nothing to do with cash. And the payouts come in moments not money. And moments are more priceless then a mountain of pennies, more valuable than a no- limit Discover Card and harder to come by then a pterodactyl riding a unicorn chasing a leprechaun.

But today I got 2 paychecks.

One was from Maryn. She got named student of the month for her class. The theme for the month was perseverance. Her teacher, Mrs. Moschinkski came and sat by us while Maryn noshed on some donuts and bananas and juice (and I watched thanks to my diet) and told me that she loved having Maryn in class and how she never gave up and kept trying which is why she chose her.

Cha-ching.

The other was from Paul. I got an email from his IEP coordinator at school with the new IEP attached so I could review it before the meeting. There is section where it talks about the student’s future plans. I quote:

“Paul completed a career assessment October 10, 2010 and stated that his future goals include going on a 2 year mission, attend college at BYU in Utah and major in literature, writing, history, or maybe teaching. He hopes someday to publish a book.”

Cha-ching. Cha-ching.

Bring on those moments baby. To me, it’s a standing ovation.

Home

2010-10-26T21:35:00.000-04:00

This morning as part of my new routine, I tried to catch a quick walk before the weather turned uber nasty. Mom wanted to exercise as well, but she only made it a block. Since I thought we were going to be going together, I did not bring my ipod and found myself suddenly left to my own thoughts.

Dangerous place that.

I really had nothing to think about or have conversation about with myself. So it got pretty boring pretty fast.

And then, as I found myself thinking about, well, nothing…I started noticing something. With my mouth unoccupied, I was able to appreciate other senses I usually ignore. I took a deep breath. I love the way fall smells. Spring as well. Summer just smells like sweat so that’s gross. Winter…I just love the smells associated with the holidays but winter itself is pretty lame.

But back to autumn.

I could smell the trees, the air was crisp and fresh (it had rained the day before) and someone was burning wood. I love the smell of burning wood. So I smiled and took another deep breath.

Which opened up a whole new train of thought.

Why do I love the smell of burning wood? And this time as I took a breath, I closed my eyes and let my mind float on the scent filtering through my senses. Suddenly I was back 25 or so, and we were sitting around a fire in the Uinta mountains at one of our many family campouts. It was always cold enough during the summer in the Utah mountains that a fire was a welcome source of comfort, warmth and light. And food. S’mores. Hot Dogs. And those funky hollowed out oranges with muffin mix in them. We would talk, laugh, and sing. So much singing. The worst part of the night was removing myself from the sweet warm circle of the flames reach to tuck myself into a carefully laid out sleeping bag stuffed with extra blankets. I would lay and listen to the breeze in the pines, the sound of the lake or the creek (there seemed to always be one or the other) and the last hiss and crackle of the fire as is sputtered and died to coals, sleeping as we did until it was needed in the morning.

I took another deep breath.

My thoughts progressed.

I loved the smell of the crisp, wet air in the trees because it meant I was surrounded by living and moving things…trees and water . Plus the smell of the earth after rain…so utterly cleansing. I grew up in Wyoming and rain was a novelty…so I lingered on those moments when the world smelled new. Those things make me feel more peaceful than anything else. I could find my nirvana by a gurgling stream in a secluded glen.

And suddenly there were dozen smells I didn’t smell at that moment that I suddenly realized could transport me just as readily to moments and memories in my life great and small.

New leather book smell take me to New York where I spent 4 weeks as a cast member of the Hill Cumorah Pageant after my senior year. I took my brand new scriptures with me (a graduation gift from my grandparents)and we were challenged to read the entire Book of Mormon in 10 days. When we weren’t rehearsing or learning how to be good missionaries, my nose was buried in that book , curled up in the shade of the very hill where the plates had been hidden before they became the book I now inhaled as quickly as I did the heavy New York air.

I touched an evergreen bush, and my mind moved to another smell I adore; pine. Growing up so close to the mountains, I never knew there were such things as fake Christmas trees. Anyone who had them was ridiculous in my mind. We would go together with other families up into the mountains to a place called Christmas Tree Meadows and ride snowmobiles to where we would pick out the perfect tree. My dad always liked the ones that were not bushy…plenty of nooks and crannies we could nestle our collection of ornaments in. And my dad is a very gifted light putter-onner. And I never thought tinsel looked as elegant and extraordinary as it did draped around one of those trees. And it smelled fantastic. It filled the house with this amazing scent I still can’t chase from my mind. And they are attached to beautiful moments of my life…my sister and I faithfully organizing and reorganizing the gifts under the tree, cheeseball and crackers, finally realizing that mysteriously Dad and Santa’s writing was quite similar…a thousand beautiful pictures of my past that make up a mass of who I am in the present.

I was home by then.

So I paused. And I realized that I needed more moments of silence and reflection in my life to ground me more thoroughly…but more importantly to remind me of home.

But was there something I was missing? Are there things I’m too busy to notice that remind of my first home? Do I miss being brought back to tender memories I could relish in because I’m too busy to let the cue from my surroundings consume me?

If I stopped for a moment…maybe.

Just maybe I could go home.

Carving Pumpkins

2010-10-25T22:13:00.003-04:00

Last week for FHE, Amanda and Michelle joined us (as they always do), and we carve our Jack o’ lanterns in preparation for the upcoming holiday. Bring on the Halloween! For the first time in their lives, we actually live somewhere where we can trick or treat to someone besides the cows and chickens. The kids are super stoked! So we had 2 teams.

Dad is not on a team. He was being a smarty pants with the trimmer.

The kids though it was great to get their hands in and dig around in the goop! Here's team Amanda, Ashlyn and Conner.

And the M2 team...Maryn and Michelle!

Ashlyn insisted on coloring in the shapes they drew before cutting them out.

The finished pair!

Rea life questions...

2010-10-25T20:42:00.003-04:00

Conner, in the middle of FHE, started randomly telling about his afternoon visit to pay at the neighbors. Summary: "I walked in and they were throwing spiders at me. Then I jumped on them, and everyone was attacking everyone and I'm thinking, ' Why am I the chicken in this game?'"

Saturday Morning Conversation

2010-10-23T09:48:00.001-04:00

I’m at the computer, and Ashlyn comes running in. “Mom! Conner just called me a stink!” “Okay, so what do you want me to d about that.” Pause. Little voice. “Give him consequences?”

Obviously we have been focusing a lot on consequences of choices here in our home lately J

So I continued.

“What do you think his consequences should be?”

Pause.

“Grounded from playing with a friend?”

“For calling you a stink.”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s fine, but whatever you choose for his consequence is the same consequence you have to take for yourself next time you call someone a name.”

Pause.

“How long would I be grounded from friends?”

“Just one time. So, the next time Hannah and Kristina come and ask if you can play, you can’t.”

Pause.

“Oh.”

Pause.

“Grrrrrrrrrrrr….”

“Are you growling at me?”

Pause. Smile.

“Grrrrrr…”

Smiling. Running off into the kitchen.

Me, watching her go back to the kitchen table.

Pause.

“Maybe he should say he’s sorry.”

Conner, “I don’t want to!”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know how to sing a song!”

“No Conner. Say you’re sorry. Not sing a song. Say, Ashlyn, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you a stinky.”

Conner smiling.

“Ashlyn I’m sorry and I should always call you a stinky-poo.”

Laughter.

“Conner! Say it right, or you will NOT be playing Wii for the rest of the day.”

Pause. Sobering his face.

“Ashlyn, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you a stinky-poo.”

Laughter.

Ashlyn grunts and points at Conner.

Whatever.

Pink Elephant

2010-09-26T00:42:00.003-04:00

So as is typical, I was messing with my eight year old son before bed. Teasing him, bantering with him, pinching his little tooshy as he climbed onto the upper bunk and making him laughed hysterically. And then, as he nestled into his blanket, I saw it. My son was sleeping with a pink elephant that sings lullaby music when you pull its tail.

Faking shock, I picked it up and shook it at his face.

"What is this?!?! I can't even believe you are sleeping with this girly pink elephant Conner! What would your dad say?"

Small pause.

"Throw it at your mom?"

Yes come to think of it, he probably would...

At Johnston Farms...

2010-09-26T00:27:00.003-04:00

So after we picked apples they has some things for us to do. There was a petting zoo with this cute little donkey who would happily eat our of your hand.

And a little stand with hot apple cider (perfect for the brisk and windy morning!) Katie actually got fresh apples slices and caramel with walnuts. Yummy! We also got a free candle from swan creek candle company for being one of the first 300 families there. It smelled like spiced apple cider! They also had a stand that showed how you could purchase their stuff to make you own candles quick at home. A nice lady making handmade soaps also helped the kids put together little bags of bath or foot soak which was fun.

And we met Phyllis. She is a lovely Amish woman we chatted with and watched who weaves rugs on a loom. she said she needed something to do to keep her busy when all her kids went to school, so she picked this up as a hobby and now goes around selling her product and demonstrating the technique. Its quite amazing actually. And time consuming. Its amazing what kind of time frees up when you have no TV. We had a wonderful chat with her.

And she was fine with having her picture taken. So we got a group shot.

Lastly, we bought a 1/2 peck of Gala apples in the apple store. Note to self: They also sell honey, popcorn and pumpkins.

Apples for everyone

2010-09-26T00:16:00.004-04:00

So yesterday I met up with a former student of mine, Katy Minton. We went downtown to Stella's and had a lovely talk and walked around looking in all the cute little shops along Lousiana Avenue. It was very lovely and long overdue. But where this leads me is that in one of the shops there was a poster telling about an event going on on September 25 (the next day) called "Apples for Everyone". There is an orchard in Swanton called Johnston Fruit Farm that was trying to pick a semi truck load full of apples to give to the food bank. They needed volunteers to come and help (including families). And I decided it was a good idea.

So this morning with Maryn's friends Katie McVicker in tow, we headed up to the farm. And we had a wonderful time!

Here's the truck getting full (Already!) at 10:30 in the morning. They were asking each family to only pick one bushel to leave some for people later in the day since it was supposed to go until 5!

The kids and our 2 bushels. Interesting side note: Conner actually puked in the the orchard from being car sick. it was awesome. I mention it only for posterity.

Flashback... Climb every mountain

2010-09-26T00:02:00.004-04:00

Now it is true that this happened nearly 2 months ago, but I meant to put the pictures up then and life just kind of happened. So here it is now. Can I hear a better late then never?

So one of the "fun" (and I use that term relatively) things we did was drive the Aspen loop and then hike to Stewart Falls. I remembered the hike being much easier then it was. It kicked my butt and my kids butts. It was worth it once we got there...then the hike out sucked more. I kept telling the kids to think about how proud they should be of themselves for accomplishing something like this and they just kept saying they hated me (Or something like that. Maybe it was Garrett they hated because he kept pushing them and wouldn't let them rest.)

Bryant was a trooper and stuck with Ashlyn. He even carried her on his shoulders part of the way with a camel pack already on. I was the lallygagger on the way back, and my good son stuck with me and helped me even as often as I needed to stop. Garrett took Maryn and Conner back down and that was where the hating Garrett part comes in. While we were up there, Erica freaked out more then once, Ashlyn discovered stinging nettle while trying to find a potty place (Good idea Bry..."Just take them over there in those bushes") and Bryant slipped and fell and bruised his hand.

But here are the accomplishments:

I took the rock climb up to the upper falls. Super pretty. This cool mist felt great on the hot day.

Paul, Me, Maryn, Erica, Conner and Ashlyn. One mountain conquered!

And here is the mountain of fries they conquered after we got down. We went and got really good burgers and fries after the hike. We were filthy. The cute kid on the end is my cousin Sam.

Cheese Touch

2010-09-25T15:13:00.002-04:00

Interesting Conversation

Me:
"Hey Maryn. It was so cute this morning. Ashlyn said she thought Conner had given her his cold because he didn't want it anymore."

Maryn (smiles and snickers):
"Like thats how it works. Its not like its cheese touch or anything."

Ummm...say what?

Arches

2010-08-30T21:32:00.007-04:00

So this is undeniably out of order and skewed a bit, but the important thing is that its here, right? For posterity and all the world to see... Erica actually took these pics because it took a lot of concentration to drive. It was, at times, precarious. So I stole them from her facebook, doctored the color on Picasa... and voila!

So apparenty the black spots on the rocks are caused by mineral deposits being exposed to the sun and other weather (which is apparently very little other kinds of weather...)

This truly, truly fascinated me. There was a man named John Wolfe who was a Civil War vet who decided it would be good for his health to settle in the area. His health? Seriously? What drives a person to look at this landscape and say "Why, yes, I think it would be perfect to live here?" It was terribly remote and primitive...even by the standards of 1888. They stayed for 20 unbelievable years after building a dam on the salt wash and using the sparse grassland for cattle. Now that's an interview I would have loved to have been able to have. The geography was amazing...but its people that fascinate me the most.

The minerals make some of the sandstone green and some red.

I believe this one is called Devil's Garden. We didn't go in. Its a heck of a hike and must be ranger led.

Pothole Arch

Ashlyn spent a lot of time collecting rocks...like the ones in her hand here.

She wanted to take a picture.

This series of arches is supposed to look like elephants.

Balanced Rock.

Quote of the day:

2010-08-30T21:27:00.002-04:00

Several actually...

ASHLYN:

"Hey mom, what are we going to do with that brown thing we used to put our TV on?"

Me (teasing): "we're going to put it up your nose."

A (Pauses to think, wrinkles her nose): "Nah. I don't think it would fit. And it would kind of hurt."

PAUL:

So Paul asked me to practice his French letters with him and kept getting confused by the vowels which sound similar to our own but in different places with slight variations. In French the vowels A-E-I-O-U are pronounced: ah-eh-ee-oh-oo. PAUL: "Sounds like a monkey." PAUSE. "Does that mean all monkeys are French?"

"Mom, do you think cats and bunnies can understand each other?"

Trip to Utah: Visiting a loved one...

2010-08-17T01:55:00.001-04:00

I Did Not Die
Author: Melinda Sue Pacho

Do not stand at my grave and forever weep.

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.I am the gentle autumn’s rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and forever cry.

I am not there. I did not die.

Trip to Utah: Conner's Baptism

2010-08-17T01:17:00.004-04:00

It was one of those days that was a very good day: a jewel of moments in my life. It was extraordinary to see so many people there: people who have been a part of my life, there now to join with us and celebrate with Conner as he took the step necessary to begin the process of building the most important relationship of his life: the one with his Savior. There were about 75 people there...and the spirit was incredibly strong. Conner, the day after, told me it was the best day he had ever had. And in the weeks after, he has said the same thing over and again. And although its true he got a lot of attention and a fabulous Wii, what he recalls with perfect clarity is the love he felt; from our Heavenly Father, the Savior, his own father from the other side AND the power of the love of those who gathered to be with us on this day. Here are some pictures from those special moments:

My Aunt Lisa and cousin sage pose with Conner and th gift they gave him: a special white towel to dry off with embroidered with his name and the date.

Conner was baptized by Dave's older brother, Aaron (who also baptized Maryn)

All ready to go!

The worthy priesthood holders who stood around Conner as he received the gift of the Holy Ghost.

From Left: Gary Broderick (great uncle), Ben Curtis (uncle), Aaron Cameron (uncle), Vaughn Thacker (grandfather), John Cameron (grandfather) Conner, Bryant Thacker (uncle), Kent Cameron (uncle), Garrett Thacker (uncle)

My youngest brother Garrett confirmed Conner. He kept saying he was worried about getting through it in English since he had never done it in any other language then Portuguese. He did great!

Quote: "Mommy, I want everyone to know I will make good choices now, because I am part of the gospel."

He described the experience later:

"I couldn't stop smiling when I went into the water. I felt so happy!"

Here is the program:

Presiding:
Bishop Gary Broderick (Great Uncle)

Conducting:
Bishop Gary Broderick (Great Uncle)

Pianist:
Becky Broderick (Great Aunt)

Chorister:
Clarine Downs (Great Grandmother)

Opening Song:
“When Jesus Christ was Baptized”

When Jesus Christ was baptized
Down in the River Jordan,
Three members of the Godhead
Were present there in love.
The Father spoke from heaven
When Jesus Christ was baptized;
The Holy Ghost descended
As gently as a dove.

And now when I am baptized,
I’ll follow his example—
Be baptized by immersion
Through sacred priesthood pow’r.
Then I will be a member
Of Heav’nly Father’s kingdom
And have the Holy Spirit
To guide me ev’ry hour.

Opening Prayer:
Erma Cameron (Grandmother)

Talk :
Paul Willis (Brother)

Paul spoke very simply but eloquently to his brother directly about being baptized and being a member of the church and repentance while Conner listened attentively.

Musical Number:
“I Know My Savior Loves Me”

Maryn Cameron (Sister), Heather Cameron (Cousin), Sage Bearnson (Cousin)
They sang so incredibly beautifully! And they looked like angels!

Baptism:
Ordinance performed by Aaron Cameron (Uncle)

Witnesses

Vaughn Thacker (Grandfather)

John Cameron (Grandfather)

Interlude: Becky Broderick

Confirmation:
Ordinance Performed by Garrett Thacker

Circle

Gary Broderick (Presiding), Vaughn Thacker (Grandfather), Bryant Thacker (Uncle), Ben Curtis (Uncle), Robert Downs (Great Grandfather), John Cameron (Grandfather), Aaron Cameron (Uncle), Kent Cameron (Uncle)
I don't remember much of what was said, but I do remember Garrett specifically telling Conner his Father in Heaven and his own father loved him very much.

Talk:
Chiara Cameron (Mother)

I bore my testimony about relationships, how the word revolves around them. And how the most important one was the one we create with our Savior. I sang a song called "Perfect Love". I couldn't even look at anyone since I was so close to weeping anyway. Somehow, with the support of the spirit, I made it through, but even as I sang with my eyes closed, I could hear others crying. Later, someone told me nearly everyone had shed tears. The next day, Conner told me he loved it when I sang that song, and that he cried. i asked him if he knew why he had cried. He smiled and answered, "The Holy Spirit in my heart."

Closing Song:
“Families Can be Together Forever”

I have a fam’ly here on earth.
They are so good to me.
I want to share my life with them through all eternity.

Chorus
Fam’lies can be together forever
Through Heav’nly Father’s plan.
I always want to be with my own family,
And the Lord has shown me how I can.
The Lord has shown me how I can.

While I am in my early years,
I’ll prepare most carefully,
So I can marry in God’s temple for eternity.

Chorus
Fam’lies can be together forever
Through Heav’nly Father’s plan.
I always want to be with my own family,
And the Lord has shown me how I can.
The Lord has shown me how I can.

I couldn't even sing the closing song. I looked over at my son, nestled in my arms, and saw tears welling in his eyes. This was for his dad, and I knew it.

Closing Prayer:
Carolyn Thacker (Grandmother)