Flavor of the Day

Stary Night

2012-02-11T21:03:00.000-07:00

Starry Night (interactive animation) from Petros Vrellis on Vimeo.

Merry Christmas to those in the Ukraine

2011-12-23T20:58:00.000-07:00

My Father's House

2011-08-19T14:43:00.001-06:00

Everyone longs to go home... when sick or tired or even just happy and wanting to share. They want to be rocked, cared for, and just loved.

I remember when my Nana died, my mother was devastated. I know there were many reasons for this, but one of them was that she was not ready to give up going home to visit- not ready to give up knowing that although she cared for small ones, in that home, she was cared for herself. She was child. Oh, it is so good to be a loved child.

I had a free day today. I decided to go home... to visit my father's house. Ahhh. I was greeted with love. I belonged. I was cleansed... its so nice to feel clean. I was given a special strength formula. It's so good to have energy. I was given gift after amazing gift, so many, so much that tears streamed down my face and were wiped by loving hands. With all these gifts, I was given one more... to be the gift for someone else. To be the gift is more vital for human happiness then to receive the gift.

I enjoy my visit so much. I can't believe the generosity, the love of my parents. And to think, they are so lavish, so extravagant in their love. If I go tomorrow, there's MORE!!!! I leave their home with a huge smile on my face and a bounce in my step. Steps run behind me. I turn. Waist high, blond and curly, she quickly hands my a package and races back to her mother sitting at the fountain.

Cookies! All this and cookies too. Going home is great! I chuckle as I start my hot car and head out away from home to do the "Stuff."

Neighborhood Parade

2011-07-20T22:42:00.000-06:00

"Why do we celebrate July?"

"What do you mean honey?"
"Well, all month long there are parades and fireworks and BBQs and parties."
"Is it for my birthday?"

Oh how could they have missed our numerous lessons about freedom, our country, freedom to worship, and the pioneers entering the valley to escape persecution?

True enough, every weekend for the past 2 months has been filled with fireworks, rodeos, and parades. It sometimes feels like a bit of overkill. But I'm glad I live in a small town that celebrates. Tonight showed me why I like living in a great neighborhood.

All month, the children have looked forward and waited for "the big parade." You mean the Days of 47? No, their parade. And yes, I was in charge, once again. My children dressed up and paraded out in a wheelbarrow to invite our neighbors we've never met to come and participate. The children met an hour early to decorate their bikes, scooters, wagons, floats, or 4 wheelers. My teenager helped the smaller children.

Our scouts led with the flag, followed by our parade royalty, two disabled teens from our neighborhood, crowned and driven in a dune buggy.

This year we had an indexing family history float...

Followed by the neighborhood kids... young....

And not so young.

At the end, everyone refreshed themselves in the dunking machine, some of us refreshed themselves over and over.

Women dish out ice cream, pie,

or snow cones,

Kids climbed the rock wall,

Tried to see who could eat watermelon the fastest...

Or pie.

Followed by family games

I'd never met many of the people who came. They live in our neighborhood, but hide until July brings them out. They go home thrilled to live in such a great neighborhood. Who do they think puts these things on? Someone had to plan for months, then set up since 2:00. Who do you think that was? Well, my kids were satisfied, no, thrilled. Celebrating July is now complete. And why not? I suppose celebrating with those with live among is really celebrating.

It Gets Better... then worse

2011-07-07T20:47:00.000-06:00

So many cities, and places I remember have changed beyond recognition, marking the passage of time and my age. Minatonka Cave, refreshingly is just how I remember it from over 30 years ago.

I anticipated the Wedding rings, piles of gold, Kermit's Castle, and the dwarfs room. I got to be the annoying kid that knew the names of cave bacon, ceiling straws and the other formations.

Even happier, once again, I was the only one on the tour to correctly identify north in complete darkness. The children marveled that such a large series of caverns could exist underground and it was a wonderful hands on lesson on earthquakes as we could see the fault line overhead.

We left the cave happy but dirty and trekked to Pickle-ville Playhouse, a melodramatic theater I'd grown up hearing about, as a particularly stuck up girl in my high school class acted in it every year. But, no doubt about it, she was and still is the best high school actress I'd ever seen. Thus I was not as surprised as I might be about the quality of the talent and the production. I laughed at my little Sunshine dancing and guffawing more than I laughed at the REALLY corny jokes. I watched Ladybug who cracked the occasional rare smile when she thought I wasn't watching. Briz even laughed his head off. But Little Mother writhed and wriggled on my shoulder half the time with a toothache.

So, the day took a decided turn for the better... Until we pulled into our sleeping quarters for the trip. We didn't have much time to enjoy the outdoors so we chose to stay at a KOA. The pictures on line showed cabins nestled in mountainous terrain near a burbling creek.

The reality was mind bogglingly incredible. Rows of RV's lined twenty feet apart. I am confused that people come out to the wilderness to lounge in the world's smallest pool, surf the net under the stars, hook up elaborate lighted flag displays and neon lighted rocks to lead to their entrance.

We are guided to a tent spot on a bed of fresh woodchips. We gape open mouthed at the large Hispanic family complete with radio and Chiwawa 15 yards to our left. Ten yards to our left, a Mormon sized extended family with 5 tents and 2 babies under 6 months tortured us.

They cry. First one, then the other. 9:00, 2:00 a.m., 4:00 a.m. then 6:00 a.m. Meanwhile, Little Mother had her traditional night terrors and tried to claw her way out of the tent. I love children, especially babies but as dawn approached and I turned my aching sleepless body, I felt positively murderous. Every muscle screamed. I lay for several more hours, heard Sunshine relieve herself 2 feet from my head and refused to leave my miserable position on the foam mattress.

Briz and Little Mother tried to comfort the Unhappy Camper, but there was no comfort to be found from camping purgatory.

The Nightmare Begins

2011-07-06T13:46:00.001-06:00

Planning, grocery shopping, marshaling the forces to gather sand toys, clothing, repellent, sleeping bags, and the other paraphernalia required for a multiple stop weekend.

Briz has his faithful trip anxiety. "We're ready!!! Can we go yet?" I finish loading the last eco-friendly grocery bag with boiled eggs.

We arrive at our destination and at the last moment, switch plans. With time to use, we stop at Blue Pond Spring. The smell is RIGHT. I suppose it is because it is part of the Cache National Forest, which is, as everyone knows, the standard for the perfect mountain experience. Mosquitoes swarm... which is not part of the perfect experience. Sunshine has brought one hiking boot of her own, and one belonging to Little Mother, both right feet. We search for her bag... Oooops, not here. Briz blames six year old Sunshine.... She blames him. she will now camp, swim, sleep and celebrate for three days in the same grubby T shirt, too large jean shorts, and two right hiking boots, one three sizes too big.

Briz stomps ahead with Little Mother and disappears leaving me to hike the crumbling face of the mountain in slippery high heeled flip flops. I hang on to unstable Sunshine and the therapy needing Ladybug. We find Locust casings clinging to the grass, and watch the spring burble up below us. Soon the path disappears and we stomp through the underbrush to find our way back.

I hear panicked screaming ahead. It is my Little Mother. Headless of my position, I race toward the little girl, stuck in a sink puddle with no Briz in sight. A bust of pain slashes through my calves. I look down to see I have raced through a stinging nettle patch, leading my littlest right behind.

As we drive to Minnatonka Cave, I chant over and over in my head that kindness begins with me and that Christianity really shows itself when tried, but it's a tough sell. My answers to my vacationing family are short, yet stranger-like sweet as I try to keep from SCREAMING obscenities. "My legs are fizzing!" Sunshine remarks. "I know honey." Boy did I know. "I want to go home now." Ladybug whines.

I am in a nightmare with gorgeous scenery. I think I'll write a horror story called "Family Vacation to Bear Lake."

20th Aniversary

2011-07-06T13:17:00.000-06:00

Twenty years...
For me, now longer with him than without him.
Long enough to forget the lonesomeness of without, to cease thanking every day for the blessing of love.
He is familiar, known, and expected, like my arm, elbow, or ear.
Hard things have come.... and gone.... and come.
Yet here we are still, together.
Deonne offers her love through a gift of a night to celebrate.

It is fitting that it is where we spent our happiest newlywed years.

Every corner holds a memory, a smile.

We hike the Wellsvilles, sniffing the sumac, listening to the birds.
Just like 20 years ago, my knees have collapsed and he must hold me up to make the climb.
We sit at the marble mirrored bar for a chocolate soda.
We stuff ourselves with Victoria Rum Chocolates.
We wander through labrinths of musty books at Books of Yesteryear.

I am glad that we still have so much in common.

At Sherwood Hills, we swim, alone and happy.
We dine, then sleep... restfully, quietly.

Then back to the three that depend upon our union for their security.
It was enough.

Love Strokes

2011-06-26T22:21:00.001-06:00

How does your spouse say “I love you”? Can you recognize it when he does?

Briz showed up at the pool 10 minutes after the girls and I arrived. They little ones in their psychedelic suits run up and down the stairs to race down the water slides. He sits down beside me, an odd sight in his cowboy hat amidst the tattooed and oiled tanning bodies crowding the pool. “Are you going to swim laps with me?” Good idea, but I didn't bring my suit and just planned to read and write while my little ones got their fill. “Will you wave at me once in awhile?” I ask.

“Every time my arm goes up really high, I'm saying hi and I love you. “ I reexamine my manuscript. The sun fades the words and I strain to desipher. I look up. I see it. “I love you.”

Back to work, I download pictures. Twenty minutes later.... I love you still. His rhythm pulses as he glides back and forth through the water. Almost an hour has past. I look up. He is loving me across the pool. Continuously. First one arm rises in salute, then another. Its like breathing to him... this love he has for me.

Ahhh......Paris

2011-06-26T22:18:00.000-06:00

I didn't know I was dry in my brain. I thought I still had miles to go. Miles of care, therapy, and structure to offer my people. But Jodi asked me last minute to join her at her house in Idaho for a little R&R with my girls. I can get Ladybug out of school! We can go! The younger two can feel like they have a summer that is not just Ladybug therapy.

Ooops. Ladybug cannot go. Do I stay home? I HATE to have a vacation without her. But I decide that her behavior cannot punish the rest of us. Three girls join six other girls to fill the small house in Paris with giggles, nail polish, and fun.

Life slowed down enough for me to hear my brain. Without thinking of how to therapy each moment, my mental and emotional joints loosened and I laughed... really laughed.

Volleyball. Darling if you Love me... Smile.... Bear Lake. Round and round on the merry go round. Morning and Evening Walks. Crafts. Movies. Night Terrors. Late night talk therapy. Sunburns. Mosquitoes. Ice Cream. Montpelier Library. Good Times. The best of times. Summer memories

Princess Festival

2011-06-24T16:11:00.000-06:00

Hundreds of miniature princesses self consciously trotted through the gates with their mommies in tow into a magical land. College aged princes and princesses swarmed the garden. As each passed, they looked at each small one. "Good day princess Sunshine" they said as they doffed their hats or curtsied. "Every girl is a princess even if they don't know it. Huh Mom. "

The prince from Snow White invited us to watch as they enacted their adventure. Sunshine watched open mouthed as Snow White teaches her step mother that beauty is more than mirror deep.

We move on to meet other princesses, other adventures. Sunshine writes letters to servicemen as Princesses are appreciative.

She ties quilts for orphans in Hati because princesses take care of others. She makes hair bows for children in foster care.

Cinderella asked if any of the little princesses in attendance could teach her how to tidy up so she could go to the ball. Sunshine answered stong int he affirmative. When the stepmother asked if she knew who the beautiful maiden was that the prince was dancing with, she told her and mentioned that she should not be so rude.

The $30 entrance fee went fully into water and wells for Africa. My princess was enchanted.

gratitude

2011-06-15T06:36:00.000-06:00

Only 12 fishes and 5 loaves of bread for hundreds.

Lack.

A dead friend, grieving women at the tomb of Lazarus.

Sorrow.

A last supper portion of bread and wine as a final good-bye strength for those you love.

Farewell.

Thorns to tear the delicate flesh of the face and neck, thick nails to crush and sear, weight, too heavy to bear.

Pain.

All preceded by thanksgiving. Not after, when all turned out well, but before when all looked darkest.

Jesus gave thanks ... and then.

Gratitude precedes the miracle - salvation.

My camera was the lens to record God's gifts, great and small. My keyboard became the pen to offer thanks for my days. But the inner lens became clouded, unable to take in light. "When your eye is clear, your whole body is filled with light." The beautiful world that still existed went unseen, unappreciated.

Therefore, the list of 1000 gifts.

4. Sun warming my shoulders.

10. White capped mountains against a blue sky.

20. Diamond drops of life causing laughter.

24. Broadway on the lawn.

28. Chalk that fills a concrete square.

My camera and fingers will open the lens again and like Adam, I will name. And in naming my blessings, I create.

You are Not Alone

2011-06-01T21:37:00.001-06:00

Our home is full of hurt people right now. It's all just part of living in a fallen and wicked world.

The pain is palpable. I see shame and self loathing on one little face as she hides behind the sofa. I see her seek for reassurance that she is still worthy and loved as she asks to play the game she gave up years ago, the one where I shop at a baby store till I find just the right one at the end and take her home.
I hear it in anothers voice as they ask, "Is heaven full of nice people? I don't think I'll be going there. Heavenly Father isn't helping me right now. I keep asking to be nicer to my mom but he's not helping me."

I see it in my other one as she bravely tries so hard to be and seem perfect... so afraid to make a mistake to add to the burden of the household that she cannot bring herself to admit any wrong doing.

I see it in the glazed eyes of a loving caretaker and breadwinner who escapes to fantasy or tennis at night to escape the pain of wanting above all to protect and care for his family. How could an enemy have crept in and sabotaged his best efforts? How can he fight and protect against the shadows that have struck?

I feel it in my heart as I woodenly move through the day, facing a glass mountain on which progress seems improbable, crying for loss of innocence,and the pain of impotence.

No doubt about it. Things are tough. Sickeningly, achingly tough.

A few miles away, Jodi is praying, "Father Help my friend! Help her family! Can't you send something? Can't you send someone?" In silence, her heart hears the answer, "I've sent them my Son."

A quick trip to Seagull Book Store, a ribbon to symbolize the gift, and a note on the back. She knocked on our door.

"This is a moveable picture. Right now move it everywhere you go - from room to room so you will always remember you are NOT ALONE! I've brought a small one for each of your girls. Are they still up?"

I had been in the process of the nightly snuggle down and all were waiting in their beds.

We sit on the edge of each bed. Jodi tearfully delivers a personalized message about her friend, also known as the healer. She tells Sunshine how he loves her freckles, her blue eyes and her fastness. (Her new shoes make her run even faster). She testifies to Ladybug about his power to forgive and erase. She shares with Little Mother his willingness to accept imperfection and heal our family.

I find myself leaning toward the picture arms outstretched just a bit, hoping, longing for a hug.

She tearfully turns to hug me as she exits. "I didn't know what to give you. I didn't know what to bring, so I just brought him."

Well his company has been most welcome. My throat has eased it's constriction, my stomach has unclenched, and each little girl went to sleep looking at their older wiser stronger older brother who has the power to see us all through this storm. Thank you Jodi for inviting such a wonderful friend to give counsel and comfort when you could not.

Slimy yet Satisfying

2011-05-25T23:35:00.002-06:00

Before bed I've got to wipe off 1/2 of the container of Bath and Body Cotton Blossom lotion that is sloshing on my skin, the carpet, and my decorative pillows. But it's a good thing.

Walked 2 miles,
Hosted and Conducted Presidency Meeting,
Rehearsed Cotton Eyed Joe,
Taught Medevil Europe and corresponding folk dances,
Rehearsed Bridging Ceremony for tomorrow's graduation ceremony,
Signed shirts for a mob of 1-3rd graders who mistook me for a rock star,
listened intently and individually to over 25 older students as they described their Imaginary Island in painstaking details, down to forms of government and languages,
Grocery Shopped,
Bandaged several wounds
Cooked Dinner,
Proof read a child's report,
Made a birthday gift for a teacher,
Watched Hula Hoop tricks,
Made garlic and jalapeno burgers and corn on the cob,
Laundered 2 Batches clothing ,
Made 2 loaves Rosemary Artisan Bread, 1 Batch Pretzel Turtles, 1 batch Marshmallow Fudge with Pecans and 1 without, and 24 Cinnamon Rolls...

Really a fairy normal day

BUT,
My nose is starting to run, my eyes are heavy and drippy. Some children are feeling the antsy entitlement from the end of the year. They are fussing, slow and pokey, and yelling and rude. The sweet husband glared and banged through the house and dinner. And though he said he's not mad at me, I know there is a bit of him that blames the bucket of screws dumped out on the lawn just before he mows on a lack of mother care. He left... early tonight... 6:00. Finally Ladybug said she's sick to death of the way I talk to her. It's too nice and makes her feel like a child and she's a young woman. Ever obliging, my voice raised, then hers matched. Mine upped, hers matched. She earned some quiet think time. I trudged downstairs to rub lotion on her body and watch her wash her face and tidy her bathroom. I heard giggles as I started up the stairs. A tired chide started to form on my lips but I was too late. My two youngest grabbed each of my hands and sat me down in a seat with 5 pillows puffed for comfort. Placing one of my feet on each pillow, Little Mother began slipping and sliding her hands over my dirty feet and legs. With un-age appropriate strength, Sunshine began to knead my shoulders and neck, rubbing my double layers into my skin till the irritation resembled a serious sunburn. "You've had a tough day and have done it all for us." They announced. "You need some relaxation." They argued over who had the funner job then switched so the other could watch Mom's funny faces, chirps, and jumps. After a half hour of my spa treatment, they decided I needed a child to squish and hold while the other rubbed knots out of my neck. When I heard my blonde bespeckled baby start to snore in my arms I insisted for the 4th time that all my pampering had to come to an end.

All are tucked in bed. The nauseating and allergic smell of cotton blossoms hangs about me. But it's been a good smell. Briz will come home sometime in the early hours of the morning. He may wonder about the greasy stains in the carpet and on the designer pillows where my slippery feet sat, absorbing at least 1 cup of lotion drawings, including a love note in lotion. I may get another glare, but I chose the stains, the stink and the raw and sore neck I now possess. They made me happy.

Rain

2011-05-22T21:24:00.000-06:00

Pitter Patter Pitter Patter...

Slash!

Boom!

They cluster around the window

Awed at nature

Exclaiming at each new strike

Soon the experience calls and we must go outside to really feel the power and smell the storm.

Weeks of rain

Long grass

Weeds

Flooding

They think nothing of these things.

Just the crash, the boom, and the sweet smell of rain.

Dad reads Eight Cousins

We are safe and warm inside.

Catalina SIMI 2011

2011-05-15T23:54:00.001-06:00

I wish that every child could have the CIMI Marine Biology Camp experience. I chaperoned my children on their school excursion to Toyon Bay.

We slept in cabins, prepared food, snorkeled 3 times and became part of 1% of the population who have ever snorkeled at night. Algae and sea mushrooms lit up in fiber optic colors under the sea. I monitored the edges of the group and soothed and encouraged little first time snorkelers who were terrified but tried to be so brave.

the day, we swam with Leopard Sharks, Bat Rays, Garibaldi, and Shovel Nosed Guitar Fish. We Dredged the bottom of the ocean to learn about its composition. We examined the ocean water under the microscope to find hundreds of plankton varieties that resembled alien creatures.

We all dissected squid with great respect for their lives, lost for our learning.

We couldn't help painting ourselves with ink or tasting the nutrient rich eye lens. We tasted Algae reminiscent of salty carrots, let Sea Hares lick us with their rough tongues, and had Sea Anemone hugs.

The Rays and Sharks rubbed into our touch and almost leaped out of the tanks to get a little more lovin'.

The instructors were amazing young women who had the knack for silliness and serious information that would teach children the best. Sadly, Ladybug threw up for 24 hours and missed a whole day of learning and fun but Lauren, an amazing instructor took us in for a private tour of the touch tanks and octopus lairs.

Watching children discover, learn, and grow has got to be one of the most satisfying experiences ever. Each child went home feeling a little taller, a little more independent, and a little happier having faced their fears and overcome them.

The last night of our trip, we gathered round the campfire to relive our favorite memories. Tears were shed, gratitude was shared, and no one wanted to go home.

I learned A TON about oceanography,but I learned a lot about my two older ones watching them with their peers. And while some of it was disturbing, I see it as a little God Breeze to let me know, "Hey! you might want to help one of these little ones out with this. Time for a little tweaking!"

And that is what I'll do now.

Brain Therapy

2011-05-07T22:32:00.000-06:00

Saturdays are tough. We have jobs to do and its NOT fun. Ladybug is on the final days to behaviorally earn her trip to Catalina island. I knew at the last minute she will try to sabotage herself by thinking she doesn't deserve to go. Sure enough. Morning was tough... really tough. She earned an additional 4 jobs from her dad and I couldn't settle her down. We sat meditated with calming oils, spa music, and prayer. Finally she was ready to tackle the day. I want her to succeed. I need to help her get out of that dark place she is in. She worked for an hour, and the other two had worked for several when I called, "Break Time!" We met on the front porch.

"On Guard!" I threw cans of pink, purple, and green silly string and I started to spray them yellow. "Hit me with your best Shot!" I sang as I ran and darted behind a tree. Five minutes later, the freshly cut lawn, Briz's back, and Sunshine's hair was covered with our festivities. With laughter, we all went back to our chores. Bug is back in the front of her brain where thinking, reasoning, and laughter occur. She's going to make it!

Tangled Party

2011-05-06T22:34:00.002-06:00

Friday Sunshine had a Tangled Un-Birthday Party. Yes, this mom promised a birthday party 6 months ago, but got sick, and uh well yeah... we just got to it.

Banners flew for the Festival of the Lanterns

We had to roll a huge dice and follow the path to get to the Festival.

On the way, we stopped and had a bite... pizza, lemon creme filled strawberries, cream cheese brownies, and cookies.

When we arrived, we learned a ribbon dance.

Then we each made a wish and let our own "lanterns go up into the sky."

The witch caught us and we couldn't see to get our way back home. We were blindfolded with our hair and had to find our way.

Then all princess left with goody bags and place mats.

Small investment, brought a lot of joy to Sunshine.

School is in Session - Part 2 - Ruins and Scenery - by Ladybug

2011-04-30T15:09:00.001-06:00

I didn't just see cool things on this trip, I learned lots of educational stuff. Here are some of the words I leaned on this trip. Others are by the pictures later in the blog.
Cairn - a pile of rocks to mark trails or other things.
Anasazi - ancient indians that left ruins in the canyons of the southwest.

My Dad and I hiked a very long way. 33 miles in four days. I didn't know I could hike that far until this trip. I would like to do it again soon.

The first day we found a lot of ruins. Some were in good shape and some had fallen. Some were like lookout towers on the cliffs and were impossible to climb to. Others were where the people lived and could be reached easily.

It got dark early so I had time to draw some of the ruins that we had seen. I wrote some in my journal too.

There were lots of cool rock formations and pretty views during this trip. Here are some of them.

My dad and I saw pictograph. It was fun to try and guess what they meant. A pictograph is painted and a petroglyph is carved or scratched out of the petrified desert varnish.

kiva - a round, underground building that was used for meetings and protection. The door is always on the ceiling. I think that they also had feasts in there.

There were lots of pottery and grinding stones around the ruins. We left them there so others could see them too. This was the law for hiking there.

I found some arrowheads out in the river area. These were used for hunting and fighting.

Some of the rocks looked like painted waves.

Some parts of the creeks were still frozen from the winter and were very beautiful.

My Dad took this while he was going to the bathroom. He had to take the shot fast before the clouds changed. It was funny.

This was my friend on the trip. She has the same name as me. Cool, huh.

This was the coolest rock thing on the whole trip. It looks like the little rock in the middle fell from the sky and cracked the big rock. This was right on the trail.

Thanks Dad for taking me on this trip!

Sunrise Breakfast

2011-04-25T23:52:00.000-06:00

I've always wanted to have a sunrise breakfast for Easter... ideally in the mountains where I could watch the sun come up and think about the resurrection.

I am sick and need my sleep so we rose long after sunrise. Not willing to give up my dream, Ladybug and I ate on my deck, simple fare, pesto eggs and grapefruit. It did not matter that it was not fancy. The birds chirped, the breeze was light, the cows and horses were frolicking the the field beneath us and it was quiet, special, beautiful, ours.

We sang He is risen to all the animals that kept us company this morning. I guess all that mattered was that we were together, thinking of him... it was enough.

Easter Cookies

2011-04-24T23:37:00.000-06:00

It was late... we really should be getting to bed. We'd had a lovely day. Ladybug accompanied me to a hair appointment, then we weeded and mowed the lawn, then a trip to her therapy apointment, out to lunch at in-and-out. Animal style and Animal style. We shopped, planted flowers, worked out together, steamed to let the menthol clear my sore throat, and had soup for dinner.

But, Easter was tomorrow, and we needed to commemorate it. We ran to the store... AGAIN, and grabbed eggs. "Who's going to do this with us Mom?" "No one. It's still Easter and we are important too. Grab your apron."

It was sweet, touching, and fun. It got us both in the mood and then kept us up a bit late as we discussed the deeper elements of the story in answer to Bug's questions.

Easter Cookies

To be made the evening before Easter

1cup whole pecans
1tsp vinegar
3 egg whites
pinch salt
1 cup sugar
zipper baggie
wooden spoon
tape
Bible

Preheat oven to 300 degrees (this is important, don't wait till you're half done with the recipe!)

Place pecans in zipper baggie and let children beat them with the wooden spoon to break into small pieces. Explain that after Jesus was arrested, He was Beaten by the Roman soldiers. Read John 19:1-3.

Let each child smell the vinegar. Put 1tsp vinegar into mixing bowl. Explain that when Jesus was thirsty on the cross, He was given vinegar to drink. Read John 19:28-30.

Add egg whites to vinegar. Eggs represent life. Explain that Jesus gave His life to give us life. Read John 10:10-11.

Sprinkle a little salt into each child's hand. Let them taste it and brush the rest into the bowl. Explain that this represents the salty tears shed by Jesus' followers, and the bitterness of our own sin. Read Luke 23:27.

So far, the ingredients are not very appetizing. Add 1 cup sugar.

Explain that the sweetest part of the story is that Jesus died because He loves us. He wants us to know and belong to Him. Read Psalm 34:8 and John 3:16.

Beat with a mixer on high speed for 12 to 15 minutes until stiff peaks are formed. Explain that the color white represents the purity in God's eyes of those whose sins have been cleansed by Jesus. Read Isaiah 1:18 and John 3:1-3.

Fold in broken nuts. Drop by teaspoons onto wax paper covered cookie sheet. Explain that each mound represents the rocky tomb where Jesus' body was laid. Read Matthew 27:57-60.

Put the cookie sheet in the oven, close the door and turn the oven OFF. Give each child a piece of tape and seal the oven door. Explain that Jesus' tomb was sealed. Read Matthew 27:65-66.

GO TO BED! Explain that they may feel sad to leave the cookies in the oven overnight. Jesus' followers were in despair when the tomb was sealed. Read John 16:20 and 22.

On Easter morning, open the oven and give everyone a cookie. Notice the cracked surface and take a bite. The cookies are hollow! On the first Easter, Jesus' followers were amazed to find the tomb open and empty. Read Matthew 28:1-9.

Plus.... they're quite yummy.

Weekend Munchies

2011-04-24T23:15:00.000-06:00

Ladybug and I are at home. Alone. Easter Weekend. Family is playing in the warmth with extended family... egg hunts, hikes, swimming.

All of Ladybug's therapy assignments effect me too. So in effect, we are both in therapy. Many would say I need it, so I guess that $90 an hour is getting a bang for its buck.

My tasks are to bond, to maintain strict order, to refrain from any activity which Bug has not earned AND to have a wonderful weekend for me where I can recoup. Uh... putting these conflicting goals together is hard work.

Nonetheless, we are completing all the assigned tasks. Food isn't banned so we went to Costco and loaded up on my favorites... Wasabi cheese, Smoked Gouda, RiceWorks crackers, Jalapeno Yogurt dip, Veggies, Shrimp... AND, we are only eating in beautiful stimulating places, tonight that means my tea table. Hey I'm celebrating within my boundaries.

Ladybug asked if the Queen ever did what we are doing with her daughters... she felt like a princess. I said I doubted if they did that they had quite as much fun.

Recovered

2011-04-10T15:52:00.000-06:00

Briz has made a remarkable recovery. I am so proud of him for allowing us to wheel him around for days. He has tried to make healthy eating choices and for him, this is TOUGH. But, so is he.

Today in church he spoke of wake up calls that force him to realize that he spends much of his time on the unimportant.

From my perspective, I reach over and pet his head, grateful that it is there for me. He jumps up and down outside my shower with a mischievous grin and though I chastise him, I glow that his hyper self is still around to pester me.

Beach for What Ails You

2011-04-05T20:42:00.003-06:00

The beach is magical. The sun seeps in our starved skin and the vitamin D drugs us with a sense of well being.

Briz stares down anyone who oogles his strangly shaved chest, giving me the confidence to flaunt my opaque winter hide. The children jump the waves, hand in hand, screaming in delighted terror.

Briz lies peacefully on the towel, manfully saying it is freeing that he is not able to participate in any water activity. We inflate our giant volleyball and play boing-boing on the beach to the great disgust of the mostly naked strutting tan females who want the extra space to coyly waggle their hips at the happy football throwing bare-chested teens. Ladybug occupies herself by discovering the hatching ground of minuscule transparent crabs.

Little Mother and Sunshine dig like dogs till their every crevice is filled with grit.

After hours of sand creation, we pass through the swimming area, with its hamburger and hot dog grills, sand castles, and naked children peeing in the sand, through the surfing area with hundreds of wet suits dotting the waves, old men with pony tales and young women with buzz cuts, muscular marines, and bleach blondes serious about their fun to the marine institute.

A short 10 minute walk north of La Jolla past the board walk and we are practicly alone. Alone to frolic and play among the rocks and tide pools, we watch the little water creatures squirt.

We scale countless rocks covered with oyster beds hidding emerald crabs with ruby red claws. The magic of discovery leads us on and on till we find our own private beach. Caught up in creatures, Briz forgot his infirmity until it was time to return.

With backs burned and feet blistered, we happily eat fabulous Mexican in Old Town, San Diego.

May I say AWESOME? Plus, I don't like Mexican. Then we returned for the obligatory hotel swim in the dark - yes, it was a highlight for the kids.

Vacation????

2011-04-04T22:14:00.001-06:00

I tried to keep the kids busy this weekend. But when I brought Briz home, I could see that we were going to have a rough week. I couldn't keep them occupied or happy, so, I just said, "Grab what you can, we'll leave in an hour!"

"Where are we going?"

"I'm not sure. We'll figure it out as we go."

Briz reclined in the front with leg outstretched as I drove. We tried to rest, but again... not enough to do to keep my little ones busy and rest their weary parents. Have I ever said that I do most everything with the family and it doesn't seem to matter if Briz is there or not? If I have, I IMMEDIATELY retract. I realize how much he does, that I don't even notice. I loaded bags, drove with kids screaming, pumped gas, unloaded, breakfasted.... some of which I do, but he usually PLAYS with kids while I do the necessaries. Then he does the unpleasants, like ask where such and such is, help with discipline... etc. etc. I suppose it was a huge blessing that I went swimming with the little ones.

They loved it, and surprisingly, so did I. I'm just not sure I like being the shark or the bad guy to run away from as I approach in the pool.

I'm too tired to stay here. I need more structure to offers the wigglies. Tomorrow at 4:00 a.m. we'll head for some sunshine.

Home at the Hospital

2011-04-03T09:46:00.000-06:00

Bug and I went to bring Briz home. Not happening. So, cuddled on his bed, we watched General Conference together. In particular, the talk on physical pain bringing us closer to Christ was interesting from that hospital bed.

Later the girls and I tried to bring the chaos of home to our stir crazy Briz in the hospital. The hospital bed was moved to every possible formation by each and every little one. I think we livened up the entire heart wing with our laughter, countless trips to the snack room, and walks around the floor with a noisy train.

We left him with a scripture and a hug. The girls thanked me and had a wonderful time... You'd think they'd been to an amusement park!

Hopefully Sunday we'll bring him home.

Day of Blessing

2011-04-02T15:42:00.001-06:00

1 long day in the heart center.

1 arterey 97% blocked, ready to close any moment and cripple Briz for life

1 stent placed in the said artery.

1 41 year old left for a few more years to guide and love on his family.

1 Good Doctor who spent the day in the hospital with Briz and I

1 Good Friend and Mother in Law who took care of sweet children.

1 sister-in-law who drove home a wife and mother too exhausted and dizzy to drive.

1 Little Mother cried over missed vacation.

1 Sunshine sobbed as if her heart would break, over and over, and over for fear of losing her daddy.

1 angry Ladybug knows God doesn't love her.

1 grateful family prayer.

1 long bedtime story

1 meal in the fridge from Melanie

1 long night in bed with Ladybug bumping me with her knees.

My count brings this to at least 13 enourmous blessings.....and counting.

That they may be a memorial

2011-03-31T23:00:00.000-06:00

I thought I was finishing a long marathon. Coming up for air after 6 very sick months felt a little like crossing the finish line and crashing on the sidelines to rest. Imagine my surprise to find a brand new race, longer and steeper than any I've ever faced awaiting me when I looked up. My Ladybug has a new diagnosis that has rocked all our worlds. Her healing requires the FULL time attention of one parent, preferably her mother. The amazing new world we have entered is so strange, so alien to our knowledge, yet we were unmistakeably led here by the grace of God. We have hope for the first time in 5 years, yet we are weighed by the enormity of the task that lies in front of us, particularly me. It is completely overwhelming, new, and uncharted, not to mention drains every ounce of energy I posses.

If that were not enough, my sweetie revealed heart trouble last night. He is scheduled for admittance to the hospital early tomorrow morning for tests... He tried to keep it from me, he worries about my stress level already, but we are a team, a couple, and good, bad, or stressful, we do all things together.

Last night I spooned my husband until I heard his rhythmic breathing and the new small snore that has been our new bed companion this last year. I wandered the halls with a lump in my throat, too dazed to even conceive of the burdens I now carried. I surfed the internet and looked up angioplasty, post procedure diets, life style changes, and anything else I could find that might be of help to my little family. I wrote my mother an incoherent letter hoping that someone somewhere would hear the pleadings of my heart. In silence I pled, "Father, can you see me down here? Have you made some sort of mistake piling all this on at once? Were you mistaking me for someone else?" But mainly, I simply questioned my own strength.

Tonight was our stake women's conference. Though often I can take or leave it, I felt compelled to go. Probably it had a lot to do with the fact that one of my favorite L.D.S. authors was the scheduled speaker. Briz was called out just prior to the conference, but inexplicably, they called back and said they didn't need him after all. Jodi and I arrived late and picked one of the last available tables in a room of approximately 450 women. As we began dinner, our speaker, Emily Freeman and her two daughters, Megan, age 14, and Grace, age 11 were seated next to me. A nudge hit my mind and heart. "Pay close attention!" it whispered. "There is a reason."

Never one to let people sit uncomfortable, I started conversation with Megan, then in a while her mother Emily. She told me of a new book that would be coming out in August about happy days and joyful thoughts. "I'll be needing that." I joked. She looked sharply at me. "Why? What is happening?" Well that was an awfully personal question from someone I didn't know.... I hadn't even told my close friends or family. Surprised, I choked out a short choppy answer of Bug's new diagnosis and journey. "We've been walking that road." She answered matter-of-factly. She went on to tell me of a niece diagnosed a year prior, and a sister who had been walking the the road of constant companion and therapist that I am currently walking. She told of the amazing progress. She assured me we had the best therapist the state had to offer and told me much else. I quickly changed the topic. After much more stimulating conversation, I joked that it had been so great I could go home now. "No." she said. "When I arrived I realized my talk was not on what they had asked. I now know it is for you."

I sat on the front row with her daughters... darling and sweet beyond belief and listened. As word by word came from her mouth, I heard the voice of God, of my loving Father in Heaven, who heard my very personal plea last night and knowing before I did that I would cry out, he had his answer lovingly prepared. There midst 450 women, he found me.

He reminded me of the long journeys many of his servants have made in the past. He spoke of Jared who dared to ask for a land choice above all other lands... and got what he asked for. Joshua who told the people to sanctify themselves for tomorrow God would be in their midst and work wonders. He told me through his word in Joshua that we would deliver me without fail. He reminded me that Joshua upon seeing the unassailable obstacles in the wilderness said, "Give me this mountain!" and that "when he had compassed it long enough, the released him and allowed him to move on northward. I know that the "Lord knoweth that I am in the wilderness and has been with me the entire time." I was reminded that the miracle on all these scriptural journeys didn't happen at their destination, but somewhere along that heart wrenching journey. Somewhere in the step by step journey over the wilderness, the women with Nephi, gained strength, like unto the men and became Christ's.

These and many other things did he say to me this evening through Emily.

I returned home to my daughter waiting for me to put her to bed. She had questions. When I told her there would be no T.V. or computers for a year for any of us, she sobbed with a broken heart. I was strengthened enough to bear fervent testimony of Heavenly Fathers love for her, of his immense grace in giving us this chance to heal her heart and mind and help her find happiness. "We can do hard things." I told her. "We can and with his help, we will." We took turns praying for her peace and comfort. She asked for help as she faced the challenge of the coming year. It was a priceless experience with my daughter, and yet another huge turning point in a long line of turning points that has led us here.

As Joshua and the people crossed over the river Jordan over dry land, he had each of the priests pick up a stone, that they might remember the hand of the Lord in their lives. I write these things that I may remember, step by step, day by day... he is bringing us to a choice land. He not only sees us, he is with me. I know for tonight, I have heard his voice.

School is in Session - Part 1 Flora, by Ladybug

2011-03-27T20:13:00.000-06:00

Instead of going to school, I went backpacking with my Dad and some friends to learn about nature and Indian ruins, especially Anasazi ruins. These are some of the plants that we saw and I learned the names for.

I didn't expect to see aspens in the middle of the desert.

This juniper tree was the biggest that I have ever seen. It must have been hundreds of years old.

There were many of these cacti on the trail. We had to watch out not to step on them. Ouch!

This tree really wanted to reach for the sky. It was very tough to grow.

The willows grew large and in many shapes. They were great for climbing.

This plant is mormon tea. We didn't try to make tea. The plant tasted yucky.

Moss grew on the rocks. It is very soft.

Succulents were some of the first plants to come out after the winter. Some were reddish.

The last night we camped in a shady canyon by cottonwood trees. I almost froze in the morning until we made it to sunshine in another canyon. It was 25-30 degrees F that night. Brrrrr!

Some people call this snake grass, others call it straw grass. I think it is fun to play with.

There was sagebrush there. Just like everywhere else in Utah.

This stuff is called bio- something or other. It has many ingredients including living organisms. It takes hundreds of years to form. We were careful not to walk on it.

One day it snowed huge flakes for half the day. My feet got wet and I was cold letting the wind dry my feet. but I was brave. I think I learned more on this trip than I would have if I was in school.

Sunday Stations

2011-03-27T19:12:00.001-06:00

Today our 20 minute stations:

1. Interview and goal setting session with Dad (All kids have the same issue. They all think we love the others more.)

2. Look through or read scripture books (Everyone's least favorite. They wanted to move after 15 minutes)

3. Write letters to loved ones far away (Each child picked someone different. (I hope their mom is on the ball enough to mail them all.)

4. Listen to a story from the friend, memorize articles of faith or play prophets matching game at http://lds.org/friend?lang=eng

Wow all the new computer applications on this program are amazing. I had to tear the kids off this one.

Next week some of the stations will be different.

I finish the bread while Dad takes Little Mother on a walk for some one on one.

We finish the day with a fine performance of Marin and Little Robin.

The scenery...

The fire ( a flashlight is planted inside)

The touching scene showing sisterly love

In which all is well before Red Robin is kidnapped and Marin must search the mountains with 12 dwarfs to find her.

Sunday is almost over. Its time for some planning and healing time with my sweetie. Night!

Stress Busters

2011-03-24T21:29:00.000-06:00

Things at our house can get kind of intense sometimes. We have a schedule to keep, brain gym, exercise, homework, chores, chauffeuring, scripture study, meal preparation... you know... the list. On top of which loving consequences must be maintained for lack of respect, and poor choices.

To balance out the serious and mundane nature of life, craziness occasionally must rule. A new favorite for most in the the castle, is squirt whipped cream mustaches. Cackling like a demented witch, I chase them around the house with my cream cannon aimed and ready for 5-10 minutes till I catch and "cream" them. These three embraced the chase. However, Little Mother cried. After I apologized, I was allowed to give her careful artistic facial cream.

How to get a child to wash their hands

2011-03-22T23:22:00.001-06:00

Little Mother is grubby. She loves purses, accessorizing, brand name clothes, beautiful fabrics and style, but she is a little dirt ball. Because she sucks her sticky dirty thumb, she is usually the first to bring an illness for all of us to share and enjoy.

I had the after school snack ready to go in 3 Styrofoam bowls. The timer was set for 8 minutes to bring focus to little ones who want to snack till dinner time. "Oh we've GOT to wash our hands. Have you washed your hands Sunshine?" They proceeded into the bathroom as I watched in amazement. "Have you heard of tapeworms?" she quietly asked her sister. "They are THIS big and LIVE in your intestines! I learned about them in school today. This guy keeps a whole bunch of them in a bottle and brought them in." They scrubbed under their fingernails and up their arms.

As Briz and I recapped our day with our little ones, sharing the experiences the other had missed, he shared some funnies with Little Mother. As they drove home from soccer practice, she asked him if a tapeworm could kill a person. He explained that first you'd get skinny then the doctors would find it... etc. etc. He had more insight into her question a few hours later. Little Mother had pulled an abdominal muscle during last week during soccer practice. It takes a bit of time to heal. As the house quieted, she crept downstairs and in horror confided, "My stomach hurts in a long line. I think I have a tapeworm." He felt the damaged muscle and quieted her fears but noted that she went back up and gave her body another good scrub.

I for one go on record as fully supporting the study and examination of tapeworms. I look forward to a healthier new year. Please accept this humble post as my contribution to the cleanliness of children everywhere. Love You!!!

True Beauty

2011-03-17T22:40:00.000-06:00

"I love you Mom." She called as I left the room and turned out the hall lights. She was drawing a seascape a sunset, trying to capture her definition of "true beauty."
"I love you too honey." I called back as I curved up the winding staircase.

The day did NOT start like this. Jodi called me at 8:40 a.m. and found me breathing hard. Aspergers has hit hard lately in our home and it hit particularly hard this morning. All residents of the upstairs were wakened by screaming attacks and frustration. It escalated till time for school. My brave husband offered to be my knight in shining armor by driving carpool. He hoped to stem the flood of anger and emotion. We are scheduled to attend a conference on parenting at risk children tomorrow... but it can't come too soon.

"Oh dear." Jodi sympathizes. "That poor little one must have so much trauma going on inside her head." I agreed but secretly thought I had more sympathy for the poor mom. Not content to leave us in this situation, Jodi called back in the afternoon. "I'm speaking in Bountiful tonight. Why don't you and Ladybug join me for the drive and dinner and we'll all have a special night together."

We enjoyed a nice drive together. We ate a delicious dinner. Jodi gave a fabulous presentation on virtue and true beauty. Virtue defined by President Hinkley is seeking out the good, and avoiding the bad. True beauty is virtue. She invited Ladybug up to the front and made her part of the presentation. Ladybug answered a few questions then sat down. After many slices of homemade chocolate cake we drove home. I asked Ladybug about her favorite part of the evening. "Going up to the front with Jodi." she replied.

Jodi dropped us off and gave Ladybug a plaque she had made about true beauty. "Thank you so much for being my special visitor! It meant so much that you would come with me." Bug smiled and happily tromped into the house and WILLINGLY down to bed.

As I wash my face and think about the day and about Jodi's message... I want to paint my own picture of virtue or "true beauty." My dear friend found me in pain. She recognized my daughter lives in pain. Without concern about what others would think or how it would fit into her presentation, she offered my daughter and I a pre-built date to soothe our ruffled feathers as we spent time together. She further pulled Ladybug up in front of 100 others and used her as an example of virtue in a troubled world... She built her soul, her self esteem, her happy feelings. If that weren't enough, she brought her a special memento. According to Jodi, virtue includes, "compassion, reverence for motherhood, righteous influence, sympathy, and good works. Jodi asked Ladybug to draw her a picture of true beauty.

Add caption

This post is my picture. True beauty called me at 8:40 this morning. True beauty picked me up at 5:20. True beauty spoke to a group of women all night after they had spent the afternoon volunteering at the House of Hope. True beauty ate chocolate cake with me and my daughter while sporting a headache from much serving. True beauty then offered to take my children tomorrow as I attend the conference on emotionally disturbed children. True Beauty drives a white mini van with cookie sheets that slide from the the back to the front since she has not had time to remove them since serving them to the addiction recovery women. Virtue in action.

I'm not Dad

2011-03-08T20:17:00.000-07:00

Briz and Ladybug are off on another adventure. They are backpacking 33 miles in the four corners area, exploring Indian ruins, and roughing it. I keep checking the weather and it is raining and snowing there.... I try not to panic, but we pray several times each day for them to be safe and warm.

In the meantime, I've tried to occupy the other girls the best I can. With almost 1/2 of our clan gone for 5 days, the castle takes on a bit of a party atmosphere. Sunshine says, "We've had a girls night out since Friday!"

We've gone to movies,
eaten out,
purchased ice cream shakes,
bounced off the walls,
played with friends,
made exorbiant desserts,

played board games,
had spa night,
pierced ears,

covered walls with polka dots, you name it.

Yet, last night, after a long and fun evening, I read a final bedtime story and crawled into my own bed to read. After an hour I heard sobbing, soft and sorrowful. It didn't stop. "Daddy. Daddy." My little one called into the dark. I crept into her room and lay down. "What's wrong sweetie?" "I miss Daddy. I miss him giving me a snuggle."

"I'm here giving you a snuggle."

"Well, sometimes he weads fun bedtime stowies to me."

"I just read a fun bedtime story to you."

"Well, sometimes, he is thew in bed when I have a bad dream."

"Come on now, you slept with me two nights ago when you had a bad dream."

"Mom, I just miss Daddy. Don't you?"

Finally, I get it. He fills a special need, a special niche in their life. In my arrogance, I assumed that because I spend more of their waking hours with them, filling their needs, feeding them, calming them, playing with them, doing homework, crafts, and worrying about them, that I met all their needs. It was humbling to hear from my littlest that even at my best and funnest, I do not. They need a daddy, their daddy who loves them.

I am glad, so glad to not have to be everything in their lives. Because, obviously, I can't.

It's a boy NOT a space lamb

2011-02-28T19:31:00.003-07:00

Oh, man, oh man, oh man, oh man.

The phone just rang. Little Mother shut herself in her room and started to jabber. She had it on speaker phone. The voice sounded funny. "Who is it honey?" I asked. "It's Treyson!" she answered with that excited sparkle in her voice. "Oh. All right then." I reply casually. After all, he is one of my students. "He wants to know if I like him or Sam better." she explains.

Uh Hmmm. We are 9 years of age. This is a phone call from a BOY!!!! My tummy turned a bit. I reached down and gobbled a handful of Cadbury Mini Eggs I have sworn off. Nervous food you know. Should I listen? How long should it go on? Will this happen again? What is my life turning into????? AHHHHHH!!! Did I mention NINE and that the called party's nickname is Gurgi due to her messy habits of hair in her eyes and smearing her munchings and crunchings from ear to ear?

She is happily chatting upstairs, unaware that she has just crossed a family milestone and launched me into a new space. In the car today, she told me that Sam and Treyson (close friends) are getting in fights at school over who liked her first. A few weeks ago, one was disciplined for trying to make the other cry by telling her of his affections.

Thank heavens, Sunshine is swooping and launching Space Lamb. I get lambs with their heads stuck in canning jars, tutus and wiggliness. But HOLY COW, I'll be talking with my girlfriends who have paved the path before. I'll be calling you soon! Maybe tonight... But first I have to sneak back upstairs and hear what they are saying.

What do you want to accomplish?

2011-02-27T20:38:00.000-07:00

Every time my parents visit us or we visit them, they offer the same question, "What do you want to accomplish with this visit?" That has always struck me as an odd question. Do I really get to pick what is accomplished? Being a good hostess is making sure that what you want to accomplish happens. So, 20 years of visits have gone by without me choosing to accomplish anything.

They are leaving for 18 months... not reachable by phone at my whim, not available for summer or Easter visits. My little people, especially my two oldest will be completely changed by their return. This emboldens me to ask, "would it be too much trouble to paint with my little ones?"

First Nana teaches them how to plan a painting, to get several ideas, then pick your favorite. Then they sketched on their canvas, then covered the canvas in a white base coat.

When the base dried, they focused on their artistic endeavors for the next hour. The girls took my pillows as inspiration and my mom said, "This is how I see my daughter." It is beautiful to be seen and portrayed by loving hands.

I was so proud of my four girls (mom included), I hung their beautiful art above my sofa. If you come to our house, sooner than later, you will be pulled to view the great art by small hands. They are pleased with themselves and can't believe I hung up their work.

True, at one time in my life I wouldn't have. But that was before I loved my children. That means I love every little squiggle and plan that comes out of their heads. I love all my mom's art work, but this one is a visual love letter I can look at each day.

Mission Accomplished!

Saturday Adventures

2011-02-26T22:13:00.000-07:00

Bedrooms were vacuumed, garbage cans emptied, game closet straightened, bathrooms scoured. Little ones did well today. Snow fell and fell. Light soft flakes, from sunrise till noon. It was time for an adventure. I don't like snow, but I love childlike excitement.

Sled races

Orchestrated Crashes

Rolling the biggest snowball in the world down the hill

Shrieks of laughter

Wet hair

Frozen pants under snow bibs

Magic

I am sad that my oldest chose not to come. I just bought her a new sled... $2.00 clearance at Walmart. Not that I wasted soooo much money. But I am disappointed that we cannot all do the same things together. For a moment I stew about teenagers turning snotty, wishing for nothing but computer games, i pods, and their telephone. Do they have to all be that way?

I realize that as she changes at a rapid pace, I must change with her. Yet, I still have influence, as long as I have a relationship. Surely there are other things to interest a teen that are more wholesome.

Stacy comes to visit. They talk about walking the mall. Can we come up with anything better? Yes, we can. They don my aprons, tidy the kitchen, position the camera just right, play soft background music and film their own cooking show.

I sit out of view to motion frantically when they try to put a metal bowl in the microwave, or when 1 stick of butter is thought to be 1 pound. Proudly they serve their fruit salad at dinner and their cookies to those who eat all their food. They watch their movies with delight. This is the funnest time we've had in a long time, they agreed.

Okay. Momming teenagers takes as much if not more effort than my little ones, now, I just must mommy on two different levels. Adjustments are good. I guess I was getting stale.

Soul Food

2011-02-18T09:51:00.000-07:00

"If, of thy mortal goods, thou art bereft,
And from thy slender store two loaves
alone to thee are left,
Sell one & from the dole,
Buy Hyacinths to feed the soul"
- Muslihuddin Sadi,
13th Century Persian Poet

It's going to be a good day.

Believe in What You're Doing, Believe in Who You are

2011-02-16T20:24:00.000-07:00

This plaque sits by my entryway... I liked the sentiment... It seems relevant somewhat... right? I'm sure I'll need it sometime. Now is my sometime.   Why don't women share the really gory days, the ones that make us want to sink into the earth? Why do we pretend that the worst it ever gets is, "I was a little down today."

Well, that's not the worst it gets here at the castle. But I'm still okay, and I'm going to be okay, and my kids are going to be okay. That is the message of "The Plaque".

I am now at the 3 month mark (of the 3-6 month doctor plan for recovery) for debilitating illness. Somehow, I've taken a down turn in the last few days. I yawn, over, and over, and over. Briz says I look like death warmed over. My hair is crackling off from the bottom and it sticks out all over my head like a fuzzball. Several of my friends are offended at my lack of calling, walking, crafting, or party hosting. My home hides scary killer dust bunnies and the basement is a deadly maze of toys, paint cans, hidden spoiled snacks, and dirty clothes.

I have tried to accept my situation, but have noticed that I have grown steadily more and more depressed. The signs are all there. It's not fun to go to church any more. I am annoyed by people I love. I long to stay home and really want to crawl under the bed where no one can find me. But, lessons, callings, service, and taxi service don't stop for my illness so I keep chugging slower, slower, slower, then, stop.

The SD card with Middle School's commercials wouldn't convert. The expensive card falls from my pocket at the library...lost? There is no lesson plan. I'll have to punt. Middle schoolers are angry. They wanted to see themselves. They are naughty. Even with 2 Diet Cokes in my system, I lean on the wall, without enough energy to hold myself upright. Their chatter and clinking of the instruments cascades over my ineffectual instructions. A teacher's husband walks in. He sees the disarray. "Stay and keep these kids under control." his wife pleads. "What's wrong with the music teacher? Why can't she keep them under control?" he bellows with disdain. The room instantly quiets as they all listen to him belittle me as he finishes his complaints about me to his wife.

I am too tired to care at the moment, but at home, my chemically depressed system starts to stew.   I haven't picked up the plates and napkins for the daddy daughter function tonight. I haven't returned 7 phone calls. "I am a loser" reruns over and over in my brain. I can tell I'm going to crack. Can I hold off till my best friend and greatest supporter gets home? I call. I give a short synopsis... really to say, "I need you. Be kind to me today. I'm fragile." Ooops. He didn't get the message and in annoyance accidently squashed whatever remained of my self esteem. I can feel it swelling in my soul, rising, higher, higher, I am going to drown. What can I cling to till the waters of depression subside?

My oldest leaves the garage door open... again. I call out, "Please shut the door." I get an answer and nasty look that basicly meant shove it where the sun don't shine Mom. Through gritted teeth I advise that it as I am getting ready for the looney bin, it would be wise to stop the rude comments and shut the door.   Uh oh. More nastiness, a look that says, "you're an idiot" and a downright refusal!    The pressure holding inside takes a few seconds, swells, bulges, then the damn breaks and so do I. I want to break something. I resist the temptation. "Get the h--- down here and shut the d--- door! Then march on downstairs and stay there!"

Oh the horror! The shock! Ladybug burst into tears and fled the scene. I am appalled at myself. A few minutes later, the middle child (who had been eavesdropping upstairs) walks, tears streaming down her face into the kitchen. "Are you okay?" I ask. "No. I'm scared. Why did you say those bad words?" Uh Oh. My inch big self is now a negative size if that is at all posible. How do I explain the whirlpool I am in... and almost under. My self loathing takes over. "I am wicked and evil, and I'm going to h--- with the devil." I explain. She burst into even bigger sobs. "I'm taking myself to my room for a time out." I say. I hear her call her dad, sobbing... heartbroken that her precious mother is no longer a hero in her eyes, but wicked, evil and scary. "Just leave you mother alone for a while. I'll be home soon." I cannot bear it. "Jodi, Where are you? Can you come get me?" I say into the phone. "As a matter of fact, I'm one block from your house. I'll be there in 1 minute. I run away, too ashamed of myself to look into my daughters faces, too fearful of the monster that lurks inside to allow it anywhere near my precious babies.

I return 45 minutes later. Ladybug races to me and wraps her arms around me? "Why are you hugging me?" I ask through broking sobs and swollen eyes? "I am a bad girl. I swore at you."

"Oh. mom. You are a very good girl. I am so sorry I was awful to you!" Oh the graciousness of forgiveness!

That night, I need to set it right with Little Mother. I creep upstairs to have a little heart to heart. I come upon her pleading her little heart out. "Please help me! Please help my mom. And don't let Satan get me so I will say bad words." Yep. I'm still dog dung. I crawl into bed beside her. "Honey, I am so so sorry you had to hear those words out of my mouth. My body and my mind aren't doing well right now and I'm making some mistakes. But it's okay because Heavenly Father is going to help me through this. He is going to forgive me just like he forgives you. Do you remember last week when you came home after throwing the snowball? I told you how when you were honest about your mistakes you could really feel my love, because I loved even the arts of you that weren't perfect. Now you get the opportunity to see me make mistakes and love me anyway."

"Did your parents ever do anything awful like that?" she asked. I didn't know how to answer so I let it be.

This morning Jodi comes over first thing... to check on me and to keep me from lounging in my pjs and wallowing in self pity and loathing. She helped me buy paper plates for the next week, showed me how to hide my piles of clutter so it can't hurl insults at me from the kitchen table, and told me I'd need fresh flowers and a good smelling candle. Most importantly, she left me a letter from God. After she left, I wandered around the house. My eye fell on the plaque. Believe in what you're doing, Believe in who you are. What am I doing? I'm mothering. I'm all about my little ones. I'm doing an imperfect job, but teaching them how to access the atonement as I clean up my messes. I'm teaching them about forgiveness, apology, Godly sorrow, and downright hard days. That's okay. Who am I? My letter from God helped me with that one today. Here is some of my special letter.

My Child,

You may not know me,
but I know everything about you.
Psalm 139:1

I know when you sit down and when you rise up.
Psalm 139:2

I am familiar with all your ways.
Psalm 139:3

Even the very hairs on your head are numbered.
Matthew 10:29-31

For you were made in my image.
Genesis 1:27

In me you live and move and have your being.
Acts 17:28

For you are my offspring.
Acts 17:28

I knew you even before you were conceived.
Jeremiah 1:4-5

I chose you when I planned creation.
Ephesians 1:11-12

You were not a mistake,
for all your days are written in my book.
Psalm 139:15-16

I determined the exact time of your birth
and where you would live.
Acts 17:26

You are fearfully and wonderfully made.
Psalm 139:14

I knit you together in your mother's womb.
Psalm 139:13

And brought you forth on the day you were born.
Psalm 71:6

I have been misrepresented
by those who don't know me.
John 8:41-44

I am not distant and angry,
but am the complete expression of love.
1 John 4:16

And it is my desire to lavish my love on you.
1 John 3:1

Simply because you are my child
and I am your Father.
1 John 3:1

I offer you more than your earthly father ever could.
Matthew 7:11

For I am the perfect father.
Matthew 5:48

Every good gift that you receive comes from my hand.
James 1:17

For I am your provider and I meet all your needs.
Matthew 6:31-33

My plan for your future has always been filled with hope.
Jeremiah 29:11

Because I love you with an everlasting love.
Jeremiah 31:3

My thoughts toward you are countless
as the sand on the seashore.
Psalms 139:17-18

And I rejoice over you with singing.
Zephaniah 3:17

I will never stop doing good to you.
Jeremiah 32:40

For you are my treasured possession.
Exodus 19:5

So I'm still pretty okay. I am a God's treasured possession... Believe in who you are. His beloved daughter, known, understood, treasured.

Days come days go. Joyful, happy, proud, and downright miserable. Throughout it all, ups and downs, the saintly and the sinning, BELIEVE in what you are doing, BELIEVE in WHO you are. There is power to the plaque. And it's going to be okay.

Midodi the Pest

2011-02-05T21:59:00.001-07:00

Dear Briz,

You left just now... called out to late night work. We just finished watching Ramona and Bezus as a family. You loved it. You laughed that infectious laugh at all my favorite parts. "This is you." you said. "This is a Dodi-ish movie if I've ever seen one." "Well, I certainly love it. I can't put my finger of who it reminds me of, I know its not one of my girls, but someone I know really really well. Maybe its a combination of all of them." I replied. "Silly girl. It's you. This is your mind, except you are much cleverer. Don't you think I know your little girl self hiding in there?" "Hmmmph." I answer.

You kiss me on the head as you go to leave. "Please get that movie. It is awesome! It's even a Sunday movie." You drive out. I start to tidy the kitchen. Why on earth would a tough guy love Ramona & Bezus? And what on earth makes him connect that movie with me? I am mostly quiet, intimidating, sensitive, well mannered, and well... somewhat refined. NOT RAMONA!!!

As I clear out the quinoa with freezer burn and wipe up cookie crumbs, I realize you love this movie because it parades two things you love about your life. If I think hard, I remember a little girl who walked outside in the moonlit snow hoping to get pneumonia. She romantically hopped up and down under her parents window so with one look at the tragic sight, they would be sorry they were so mean. This little girl trekked down the Black smith fork river as though on a tour of the Amazon, naming each curve and dip. She was a spit fire whose father had to weekly sit with her Sunday School class (to keep her from pulling chairs out from under the other children and otherwise driving the teachers insane). Without saddle or bridle, she jumped on a horse and heroically rode out into the pasture to round up the cattle loose in the alfalfa, only to be bucked off, and picked up by the minivan. I remember the pearls... and scarves worn every day in 4th grade, befitting a fine lady with a long elegant neck instead of a scrawny trouble maker with octagon wire rimmed glasses. Where did that funny little girl go? I forgot her...

But not you. You know even the parts she tried hard to forget, and strangely you are crazy about them. That's one of the reasons you love Ramona. The other reason is you see yourself, not as a child but as the father who sacrifices all to be a family man to the wild bunch that brings "color to his life." The father in the movie is devoted, crazy fun, and beloved by his three girls. This is you and who you seek to be - not a climber of a corporate ladder, a brilliant discoverer, or a distinguished anything... just an amazing dad.

The laundry now folded, I gasp at the beauty of you, loving Ramona and Bezus because you love us so very much. I just want to remember this. You see me.

Love you honey.
Midodi the Brave

Chinese New Year

2011-02-05T15:37:00.001-07:00

Gung Hey Fat Choy!

Sing to health and wealth

Happy New Year

Gung Hey Fat Choy!

Yes, I made up that amazingly fabulous song to teach my classes WITH instruments. My talent amazes me.

I've been teaching my students all about Chinese New Year so Thursday my family received a similar treatment.

After-school cuttlefish and shrimp snacks from the Asian Market.

Music with unintelligible words and a lot of banging to wake up the dragon.

$3.00 silk fans (they're really Japanese, but they were cute)

Chinese bubblegum in unique flavors that doesn't stick to your nose

Chopsticks

Jasmine sorbet for a palate cleanser that Ladybug said tastes like lotion.

Chinese party poppers that ended up taped to Ladybugs ceiling for a Mardi Gras meets Fairy Garden effect

A friend called Ladybug toward the end of the meal. I heard, "Not today. My family is in the middle of this really cool dinner and I don't want to miss any of it."

Where's Waldo?

2011-01-30T15:52:00.000-07:00

Days, months, years go by. I bottle fruit, drive carpool, scrub toilets, mix bran muffins. Adventure? Hardly. I am prosaic, practical, and sometimes sharp tongued. I don't always love this part of me, but the season demands. . . At least until Wednesday night.

I answered the doorbell. Was that Melanie? "Wow what bouncy hair. Is it a wig? Are those your REAL eyelashes? Those are HOT glasses."

"All is real she answers. I just don't take the time to take care of myself like I used to." Man, do I get it. We hop into the mini van giggling like high school girls out to drag main or find trouble. In reality, we are waldos. The young men and women in our church will come to the mall and find us and several other members.

Melanie and I tour the food court, sampling, and sniffing. She decides on Greek and purchases a plate. As we walk through to pay, the 20 something year old young man with a pony tail gave me a smouldering look. "Your hair is totally hot on you." He quips giving me the look. The manager adds, "I love the color." Certain that they are mocking my old lady wig I smile and say, "It probably looks fake but do you think it will pass at a distance?"

With all sincerity he answered, "It's fake? I'd never know. You don't really look like this?" He was a bit disapointed. "Maybe you should try it." Melonie and I made it to our seats before bursting out in laughter.

The hour passed quickly. We never even got to our stacks of reading material and only used the to pick up and read when the youth got close and we hoped they'd miss us. Our different selves enjoyed the adventure of being slightly different - just a bit incognito for a night.

After everyone had found us, we wandered till we found the other waldos. Fake mustaches, wigs, mullets, and unknown grandchildren made us giggle. Everyone was feeling as giddy as we were. No doubt this activity was for the youth, but I think the waldos enjoyed it more.

My advice is that anyone who hasn't been complimented in years upon years should don an old lady wig and walk the malls. There are young hotties that must really like the motherly look.

Love smells like lemon oil

2011-01-26T17:03:00.001-07:00

Imagine that you drive into the garage, bundled with bags, smelly with nervous body odor, worried about classes that didn't go as hoped. You burst into the front door with clamoring children in tow. Sniff, sniff. It smells like Pine Sol mixed with lemon oil. What is that? shiny floors? Ahhhh. Now you see lines in the carpet... even on the stairs. Precious vacuum lines. Upstairs? Cringe. Someone cleaned my BATHROOM! Oh No! Can I ever show my face again? Get a hold of yourself. Someone loves me. In presidency meeting this morning we talked about how much it means to show the one that you care. Looks like I'm the one who gets the love today.

A clean floor can move one to tears. Can't you just feel the love?

Things I don't understand

2011-01-23T22:10:00.002-07:00

There are some things that draw hurricanes from our ladybug. Reading, games with rules, numbers, and memory exercises bring torrents of yelling, crying, and recrimination. Coward like, I have withdrawn from the fight, leaving Briz to battle over the evening reading, and such.

One by one, I have given up on many family activities I once thought essential. I couldn't stand the storms. In this manner I simplified scripture study till it simply contained stories I would tell while holding a picture. Briz had enough of this and one night announced, "No More for our teenager! From now on we will read out of the actual scriptures like normal people." I subconsciously cringed as I waited for the certain screams during our "spiritual exercise". Ladybug read one verse, then 2, then 5. "Can I keep going?"

"Sure" We answered in shock.

Words tumbled from her mouth, words like generation, covenant, atonement, or commandment. Though she can't remember the names of her classmates, questions about Cain, Able, translated beings and other long ago discussed topics sprouted from this little one. How can this be when normally words like the and of can be a source of unimaginable frustration? Two months later, she still chafes while waiting her turn to read the scriptures. True, her reading reverts to normal when reading the Treehouse Series, or Ramona And Bezus.... But there is one book ... one magical book of scripture that seems to be comprehensible.

Saturday, our ward had an indexing marathon...Briz signed us up as a family team. Me, him, and Ladybug. I was a bit humiliated. I wasn't up for much and Ladybug? She can't read print. How could she decipher hundred year old script complete with curlicues and blotches? Briz and Bug went to register and spent an hour indexing. A beaming bug walked into my office where I added my few hundred records to our tally. How did you do? I asked. "Great!" she replied with excitement. "I did 3!"

Sure enough, when family tallies came in, one family did over 2,000 records. Another over 3,000. A total of 67 people indexed 26,710 records in 12 hours. Ladybug was one of the 67. She added 3. For a few moments, I felt ashamed of our little team. We added so little... Others so much.

3 Records, yet untold amounts of mental confusion went into those 3. Visions of the widow's mite crossed my mind. Today, after church, I was called to the computer. Then again, and again. Hour after hour, Ladybug sat curled up in front of the computer deciphering previously unable to access facts such as 1 means January and Dec is short for December.

Truly humbled, I came whenever I was called and witnessed the miracle that was 30 more records and hours of what should have been screaming frustration. "May I stay up late and do more?" she asked.

I don't understand. Some things I have witnessed are just impossible. Does faith come because we see miracles or before?

I have attended many conferences and lectures on Learning disabilities and Autism. Current western medicine offers no hope of changing brain patterns, claiming that after formation in-utero, very little can be done. "Why can't you just accept she'll never be normal!" The school psychologist once yelled at me in one of our fun little conferences.

I get that. I understand that learning disabilities are disturbances of the brain and therefore a function of the body. But there are things that I don't understand that I know to be real. Other forces are at work in our humanness, ways of bypassing the brain blood barriers and neuropathways.

If the brain is damaged is the soul of the person?

Are there other non physical ways of communicating information to our brains?

My experience says no to the first and yes to the second.

That gives hope to all of us that are damaged in one way or another.

Hydrate

2011-01-20T13:26:00.000-07:00

This week's health focus: I will keep my body hydrated and clean by drinking at least 64 ounces of water.
It is hard to overestimate the importance of water to help our bodies run smoothly. Water washes out impurities that clog our pores, store in our fat cells creating cellulite, and make a sluggish digestive system.

When I really want to lose weight, I drink 3 or 4 liters a day instead of 2. But in my current state of un-energized existence, 2 liters are great.

To help me track my water, I measure it into my $3 2 liter Walmart water bottle. When I leave the house, the bottle goes with me.

Throughout the day however, I pour 1 liter at a time into my metal water bottle. Metal keeps the water cold and it tastes better in metal. But the real reason I allocate my water into metal, is that I like to flavor my water. My very favorite way to drink my water is with 1 drop of peppermint or spearmint water and a couple of drops of vanilla shot. Oh, heavenly! Sometimes I drink my water with a few drops of Slim and Sassy oil from Do Terra. It regulates the metabolism, helps the stomach and tastes pretty good. Water makes a huge difference in so many body systems. I'll share another favorite way to drink my water tomorrow!

Do you have any secrets for drinking more water?

Internal health

2011-01-15T08:17:00.000-07:00

I am not able to excercise yet, and I'm still using food for comfort (so I'll have to work up to that one). So my first week is easy. I added all those pesky supplements that usually are just a pain to remember. Yes, I know that an amazing diet makes suplements unneccesary, but I need all the help I can get.

As a part of supplementation, I have begun an essential oil regimen. Each night and morning I topically or internally take the oils I need for insomnia, energy, antiviral, or breathing. I even add one for skin to my daily moisturizer. I used to use them as wonderful first aid items, but since I have learned that to see excellent progress, you need consistency.

So consistency is the goal this week. Nine pills each day, three pills to cleanse the colon, oils in the morning and oils at night. It's amazing how much my energy has improved. When I put Vetiver and Lavender on my feet at night, I just about fall asleep instantly. I drink Digest Zen in my water to improve my sluggish digestion... it works. Enough said. So, week number one is a success. I am ready to add my next healthy habbit.

Are You Ready for A Life Change?

2011-01-14T12:15:00.000-07:00

January often brings post holiday blah syndrome. I like to give this hibernating, slow time meaning by ramping up my goals, and setting myself up for change. Sweet Briz had a meeting with the family, distributed little planners to everyone, and had the yearly goal discussion. I had already set my yearly goals... in September, so for me, it was a good opportunity to detail and shimmy my current plan.

At Education Week, I entered a class where numerous sharp women were clustered around the previous speaker and her posters. Instinctively, I saved my chair, then made my way up to join the crowd. They were ogling a vision board. I found the speakers name, then after my class went to the annex to find any books by her. Are You Ready for a Life Change? found its way into my basket and into my life. It is a simple short book with step by step details on how to make change a reality.

My tendency is to focus on areas of my life that are dragging me down or driving me crazy. Bahram Akradi changed my mind about that. He suggested the following. "Imagine that you're interviewing candidates for a really great, important job - the job of improving your life. Really, of course, you'll be interviewing various parts of yourself, gauging your own willingness readiness to embrace change. "Thanks for applying for this opportunity as a major force for change in my life. Now I'd like to ask you a few questions: What makes you interested in doing this job? Why does it matter to you? What's your long-term vision for how things will change if we're seccessful? What are the first steps and small daily changes you'd like to begin with? What obstacles do you think you'll encounter? And what new skills or support will you need in order to succeed?"

I hired 3 candidates, organization, relationships, and my health. Then I divided up the year into 3 sections, where each candidate could do their best to improve my life. This new year's section is for health. (Really it was supposed to me the final section, but since my health is sooooo poor right now, it would be pointless to work on anything else.

My health decided it needed to improve in different ways each month:
1. Strong mind/ immune system
2. Proper nutrition
3. Strong Body

Each week I accomplish the focus in specific way and build new habits. To maintain my vision, I have hung my vision board in my room and read it daily. To ensure accountability, I will write about my weeks. So, sorry... I'll be writing a lot about health for the next 3 months.

Here's to a new year and a life change!

Cheers!

Hero Worship

2011-01-04T21:53:00.000-07:00

To complement our Book of Mormon Reading, each girl picked a hero poster for her room. We are providing our Primary children with scripture hero trading cards, along with their scripture reading log. Ladybug picked a young women of courage... I probably should have insisted on a real hero, but it is beautiful. Little Mother picked Helaman and the 2,000 warriors. I think she likes having a scantily clad buff man picture in her room, but hey, it's better than Justin Timberlake. Sunshine picked Mary, because she also has blueberry eyes.

I love heroes. Sure they can let you down if you expect too much of them, but if you just look to see what you can gain and leave the rest, they make wonderful friends to have. I keep a council of them in my head for difficult situations. I have to imagine their responses to my dilemas but they give me great council.

This year, I am going to fill my little one's heads with heroes and heroines. I want to fill their little brain councils with noble friends. This morning we began with Enoch. How can you not love self effacing amazing Enoch. What kind of teacher could turn a whole city into such goodness? The only thing I know that can work miracles like that is love. He must have had a lot of it.

Who is your hero? Pick one or two new ones to add to your collection this year. They make excellent friends.

Boredom Busters

2011-01-03T09:42:00.000-07:00

Today's boredom was banished by a "cake" decorating class using sugar cookies and yummy frosting. We learned how to make ribbons, write names, make flowers and borders. After one layer was complete, they started on a new one. When 2 inches of frosting made the cookie unstable, they began with a new one.

Go Rams!

2011-01-02T19:57:00.000-07:00

The Rams made the playoffs. That may not mean much to me, but it means a great deal to a grown up little boy who wore a Rams helmet at the age of three. Immediately he plans a party, which really just includes us, his girls, and his little brother, another loyal fan. He buys ingredients for his favorite soup, and as I am too weak to cook, chops and stirs with Mitch to create dinner. Saddly, he realizes he has no paraphanelia to wear for this momentous occasion.

His little princesses note his sadness and go to work. With the help of paper, tape and markers, soon Little Mother has all of us outfitted with Go Rams! hats and pendants.

Sated with Super Bowl Soup, cheese ball, avocado dip, and Lil Smokies, the die hard fans and the three little ones who desperately want to please plop down to cheer on their fight. I am supposed to be resting, But it is a bit hard when I hear "Man! That is unbelievable." or "No! No! No!" yelled at full volume from the family room. Yet for all the despair, I hear joy in the voice of my husband. He is watching his team with his family in Rams paraphernalia. Win or Lose, All is right with the world.

popcycle stick coffin

2011-01-02T18:56:00.000-07:00

"All true stories end in death. And this is a true story." Briz philosophically quips from his favorite movie as we prepare for yet more funerals. The bright green tree frog became a frogcicle in our below zero temperatures, and we don't know what happened to Tootsie. She just lay in the bottom of her cage. Dead. I suppose we are really prepping our kids for life, because we speak at a lot of funerals. The flower bed outside Ladybug's window is full of corpses, some in home made coffins, others in the soft cloth. Each lovingly placed, each one eulogized. Ladybug is already angling for new fish. Big ones though.

I'm Bored!

2010-12-28T18:40:00.000-07:00

"I'm Bored!"

The whine reaches my left ear as read languidly. I smile, a slow dangerous smile. The offending one looks a little nervous. "Only boring people get bored." I reply my pat answer for such rubbish.

"What can I do? And DON'T say clean something again."

Though normally these are fighting words, I've been waiting, longing for these words. Why? Because I want to spend a certain type of time with my kids, and I want it to be their idea.

Take down the Christmas Tree
Scour the toilet
Write Thank You notes
Make bananna bread?
Learn a new skill?
Would any of these work for you?

The day together flies by.

We feed the birds.

They learn to chain stitch

To mend their own clothes

To make a pillow case

Bored kids make good moms. I hope they get bored tomorrow. Maybe they'll learn Latin?

Programs

2010-12-17T22:53:00.000-07:00

One of the many versions of Jingle Bells

They came... the three Christmas programs I was responsible for. Some classes did well, others shone, and others didn't quite reach their potential. Still, it is over... and I am left with these debilitating chronic illnesses. Was it worth it to push myself? I don't know the answer to that yet. I have the next several months to think it out. I do know that I love being a part of my childrens' education, that I love touching young minds, that I both wish I had more interaction with my students and less. My favorite program was the one in which my own children performed. Probably because I had the most say in what happened. I particularly loved watching them interact with their parents and grandparents at the end as they taught them the Zemmer Atic, an Iraeli folk dance.

Learning the Zemmer Atic

I loved seeing them laugh together and share in their educational experience. Sadly, I had to leave just as it really got going as my next program (a play about the Christmas Train) was about to begin. Celebrating together is one of the great joys of Christmas.

Live Nativity

2010-12-08T19:11:00.001-07:00

Every year I drive by the church advertising the live nativity, three shows a night for 2 weeks. This is the year. We'll try it out early in the season.

First we meet at Jodi's for a cookie and hot cocoa bar.

Outdoors, under a shelter, we sit on prickly hay bales, stuffed like cattle in a milking stall. The back half is standing room only. This must be really good, we think as we wait.

The young adult ward offers this nativity as it's gift to the community each year. They have a small choir, actors, narrators, and several musical numbers. The first musical number begins. The gangling young man and the two young women screech their harmonies and I am embarrassed for them. How can they bear to sing like that in front of so many people? The play continues on the same note. Three earnest wise men, bespectacled, plump, and in towels, TOWELS for crying out loud reverently make their way to see the doll. This is without a doubt the WORST nativity I have ever seen and that includes all those years of sheeted childhood wonder. So, why am I crying?

This humble and honest offering made from over one hundred individuals offering their very best was enough. The spirit of Christmas was not missing, it was strong, and we smiled as we swam through the crowd to the car. What I have to offer this season is enough. It is always enough.

2010-12-03T21:08:00.001-07:00

Little Mother is studying the middle ages. She chose to do a report on physicians. She was to create a 3-D showcase of her profession. She decided she was 3-D and created this lovely outfit.

We learned that the Beak like thing was stuffed with oils and herbs to keep the physician from becoming ill. The full length coat, hat, and mask served the same purpose. Their little glass vase they carried was for urine. Sadly, the test was performed by the doctor himself who tasted it to give his diagnosis. Oh the useful facts we gather!

Just another Day in Paradise

2010-11-12T17:25:00.001-07:00

Though not a country lover, my theme song has long been Just Another Day in Paradise. I giggled this week as it played again in my undercounter CD player,

The kids screaming, phone ringing
Dog barking at the mailman bringing
That stack of bills - overdue
Good morning baby, how are you?
Got a half hour, quick shower
Take a drink of milk but the milk's gone sour
My funny face makes you laugh
Twist the top on and I put it back
There goes the washing machine
Baby, don't kick it.
I promise I'll fix it
Long about a million other things

Except, this time, I've got laryngitis, we're totally out of groceries, the washer is broken, I'm out of money, the truck is broken, and Briz needs to fix the lawnmower before the snows set in. I am clueless as to how to accomplish this without a truck. Briz is much more resourceful. I pick up the children from school.

We drive by, pause, wave, honk, and laugh our heads off!

Well, it's ok. It's so nice
It's just another day in paradise
Well, there's no place that
I'd rather be
Well, it's two hearts
And one dream
I wouldn't trade it for anything
And I ask the Lord every night
For just another day in paradise

Halloween Man

2010-11-01T15:30:00.017-06:00

It takes a manly man to measure and braid countless strands of yarn to build a beehive headdress.

Such a man, would be far too dignified to play with drop kicking cats.

But his efforts would help produce a beehive, a hippie, and a Rose garden. Three young women would idolize him.

And he would fall into the clutches of a spider witch.

Go get yourself one for Halloween!

My Birthday

2010-10-22T10:49:00.001-06:00

The morning of my birthday started bright and early as I worked to continue the 6 cakes promised for Emily's wedding. There is a pumpkin cider, a lemon custard, and chocolate pistachio, a coconut icebox, a pineapple lime, and a peppermint angel food. I dusted off the flour to make it to the temple ceremony and witnessed two sweet and very innocent young people commit their eternities together. I made it back just in time to put everyone in their places and begin the rehearsal for the primary church program. It ended and we loaded everyone into the car with the cakes and drove an hour away for the reception. I helped in the kitchen, then came out and danced and chatted and celebrated with my dear friends. We returned home past the children's bedtime, and I am so tired, I want nothing more than sleep. Sadly, all the cakes return home with me. They never even made it out of the kitchen to the cake table. I have told myself philosophically, that it is a good sign on my birthday that I am still needed in this world. But now I am so tired that I bitterly feel that like the cakes, no one wants what I offer anyway. I cry myself to sleep. There are days like this.

The Road Less Traveled

2010-10-18T23:09:00.000-06:00

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. -Robert Frost

Sunshine's birthday merited a special treat, an outing to Fiesta Fun. The neon sign flashes near the freeway, enticing my little ones every time we drive into town for a vacation. We step through a blow up monster mouth into a music blaring, child squealing madhouse. For $60, we purchase the smallest package that includes bumper boats, miniature golf, and 10 arcade tokens per person. We begin with the boats. Even Sunshine is tall enough to pilot her own boat. We put around a bit, till Sunshine, who does not know how to steer, is pulled into the water fountain. Panicked, she stands up in her boat, screaming the park to a halt. Perhaps she hopes to jump into the water to save herself from the fountain. I scream, "SIT DOWN!!!" I put put on over and bump her a few times, Briz comes from the opposite side and together we bump her out of the whirlpool effect.

Everyone politely watches the others put their brightly colored balls for the first 4 holes. Little Mother asks to go ahead. Ladybug soon follows. Within 5 minutes, they have "completed" all 12 plus holes and have run out to ask us for more tokens. A sad and soggy Sunshine drips near us and "watches as Briz and I finish up our holes. "Don't you want to try to hit your ball in this one?" "NO." "O.K."

The children quickly learn that the fun games offer few tickets per play so they gravitate to the games of chance where for no fun at all, you might win a jackpot of 50 tickets. After they have exhausted our supply of tokens after their own, they turn in their hard earned tickets for flimsy penny prizes (you know the kind that last a few hours at best?)

The car ride home was not horrible, but was tinged with a bit of grumpiness. Somehow, the neon siren had not produced the expected joy but emptiness and discontent.

The next day, Briz spotted a canyon that looked intriging. We pulled over to see if there was a way to explore this area. We found a small trail and this sign.

Could it get any better? We found a secret trail! Scrub Jays flitted ahead darting in and out of the stands of trees and shrubs that smelled as Little Mother put it, apples and cinnamon.

The color scheme was unreal. We traveled on sand through pine and deciduous forests, over creek beds, and next to sheer cliffs straight out of A Crooked Sky.

We crawled in caves, searched for frogs, climbed mountains, and garbled strange noises to hear our echos. Little Mother ran like a deer, Sunshine and Ladybug paused often to announce that they could hear their heart beating.

Briz told the girls they'd be lucky to get their mom back to the car, and he was right, I'd never been to such a unique spot. Each turn showed new vegetation, or formations, and the constantly changing vistas were majestic and awe inspiring. Finally with fear of the fading daylight, we ran the majority of the strenuous and rocky trail back to our car.

Toward the freeway, we discovered a picnic table and dined on our weekend leftovers. Our meal was scanty, we were dirty, and a bit chilly, yet the conversation sparkled. The girls laughed and joked with each other and with us their parents. They shared the yummy tidbits and peeled tangerines for one another. Three silky dirty heads leaned on my shoulder as we laughed. I laid my head on a much larger bald and sweaty one in perfect peace.

Lesson: Our family thrives on the road less traveled. Interestingly, it is usually the least expensive road as well.

Homecoming

2010-10-10T21:10:00.000-06:00

I trotted over the lawns that separate our homes around 5:45. K. ran up the stairs, hugged me, and jumped up and down because she knew I shared her excitement. Her big sister was going to her first big dance. The other little girls all talked at once, spilling over each other with exuberance. Finally, they made me shut my eyes as M. made her big entrance.

She was beautiful. Inside and out. Everything from her hair down to her shoes was classy and elegant. "I don't feel like myself." She commented. I wanted to say, "Finally, you begin to resemble yourself." But I didn't.

Little sisters watched anxiously for the first glimpse of "the date." Others gathered around the computer to talk to mom and dad long distance via computer. Briz arrived sporting his weapon in an obvious place. We talked him out of making M's poor date write his name on a bullet. "It is important for all guys to know that the girl they're taking out is loved and that a guy who knows what they're thinking is watching out for that girl." Well, we girls don't understand that, but we trusted Briz to be nice.

At the appropriate moment, we called M in to make her appearance. Like my mother before me, I had to teach how to pin on the flower. With great excitement she exited the house. As the car door closed at the front of the house, the house full of girls, including Little Mother and myself, jumped up and down with the excitement of it all and the pleasure of helping her get off happily.

I kidnaped this elegant girl for her first day in Young Womens. I've gone to her plays, her violin recitals. I've helped her with school projects, and been a reference for her in jobs. Someday, I hope to attend her wedding, and maybe even hold her child. It is such an honor to be in people's lives.... to be there at the crossroads... to share a bit of their exciting time on earth. To have a bit of involvement with their emergence. Once I was so sad at limiting my influence with only 3 children. Now, I see that for me, it opened me up to experience the joy of many many more children than I could effectively parent. It's a good job for me.

Witches Allight!

2010-10-08T18:00:00.004-06:00

Carleene, Lesa, and Charolette took me out for my birthday, even though we are weeks early... its the only time we could all get together. We had a fantastic time, trying on jewelry, hats, eating fried avocados with salsa ranch sauce, seafood stuffed steak, and sharing stories with one another. Women need each other. I thought I'd stick to myself this month... but I see how much I'd have missed out on.

Mature Immaturity

2010-10-07T22:12:00.000-06:00

My grandmother, age 80, matronly round figure, stout practical shoes, mother of 7 grandfathers, behaved absolutely like an adolescent after each of her husbands died. For each of the 4, the preened, primped and giggled as she told "the story". What on earth have you been eating or sniffing or whatever? I wondered. After each marriage, she went back to the respectable staid though jolly woman I knew.

It took some time to realize that though time, cares, and responsibility suppress our innate joyful silliness, it exists in the best behaved of us, waiting for the right circumstances to pop out. I suppose it is a good thing my children weren't with Briz and I as we took a weekend trip to the Shakespearean Festival with friends Amy and husband.

We talked and laughed the entire drive, so 3 hours felt like 15 minutes. Each couple snuggled and snoozled like new dates as we watched the green show.

We behaved abominably, and couldn't hold our giggles as Benedick in Much Ado about Nothing spit mercilessly over us and many rows back. We wondered why they don't offer saliva shields to the first several rows. In addition, why pay more for these rows when they ought to go for much, much less. At night, we consumed over $60 in treats as we stayed up early hours of the morning, laughing, crying, telling secrets and solving the world's problems. As consequence, we all slept in till blessedly late in the day...

Briz's sister and hubby walked in on us unexpectedly, towards noon, and caught Briz with Amy... in PJ's without her bra... could not find me (I was in the bedroom), and put their minds in a very interesting place. They didn't know whether to call me or keep it a secret. We laughed till we were sick.

Briz brought his arsenal for target practice. I pretended I was super tough and shot the rounds as fast as I could. I'm actually pretty good as witnessed by the pop bottle that kept leaping satisfactorily in the air. Joe liked the ear protection so much he asked for and received a pair for his birthday to drown out the noise in the house from the kids.

Being open to the moment, we accepted an invitation from a complete stranger and his granddaughter to find some petroglyphs. Do you pronounce that tempypoop? What kind of pictures get a name like that?

Did you know that if you are really immature you can think of all sorts of interesting things the petroglyphs might mean. Forget religious overtones, messages from tribe to tribe. . .

At lunch, between Pride and Prejudice and an Alfred Hitchcok play, we laughed at lunch. Some of the actors from Pride and Prejudice sat across the partition from us. I dared Amy to play the goofy fan. She accepted. We made a sign for our favorite, Mr. Collins that said, "We think Mr. Collins is mmmmmmm Marvelous, copying his stutter from the play. She pasted it with a wide mouthed leer from herself on the glass between

us.

Briz excused himself from our immaturity and went to visit the men's room. Mr. Collins laughed, Jane laughed, Amy and I rolled as I gave him a thumbs up. I think one of us wet ourselves a bit. Imagine our chagrin as we were seated on the front row for the Alfred Hitchcock, as the curtains rose and the star, aka Mr. Collins, was looking down at us with a smirk, enjoying his two middle aged fans... both married and one pregnant.

I think we shed 24 years on that trip, but somehow they found us again as we arrived home to hectic schedules, discipline problems, messes, and stuff. I long to feel that mental freedom again, that joyful abandon, that silliness. Yet I am glad to know that it still exists hidden somewhere. I hope that younger version of me finds a way out again someday soon. She is easier for me to live with.

Between us do we really have 38 years of marriage and 9 children? No. Impossible for these silly four. I think I get my grandma.

Hunter-Gatherers

2010-10-04T14:47:00.000-06:00

Fall in the rocky mountains brings cool crisp air, bright blue skies, changes in the leaves, and harvest time. The freezer is full of corn and peaches, the cellar is loaded with tomatoes, salsa, pasta sauce, and jams. A quick jaunt to the mountains with Jonathan and Isabel over Labor Day let us know that the chokecherries were on.

For us, chokecherries are a family affair. Each has a job, some scout the trees, others climb, hold grocery bags or pick. Faces press to windows in amazment as cars speed by. Some stop and ask us what in the world we are doing. I feel better when we move higher up the mountain where the berries are smaller but there are no cars.

Chokecherries seem to grow best on steep embankments covered with stinging nettle, briers, and stickers. So, it is a sacrifice for all of us. I wonder if our neighbors (who will be lucky enough to try some of our jam or syrup) will realize the drops of blood that were spilled for each and every jar.

The harvest is good this year. This is the best harvest we've ever had. Entrepreneurial Ladybug wants to sell jars door to door. However, Briz is violently protective of his product. I don't think she could sell them for a price he feels is worthy for his prized jams. I know we all love the taste, but I really think the draw is that each year as we harvest, we all feel a connection to our ancestors. We are mighty, ingenious, and frugal hunter-gatherers.

Halloween Preparations

2010-10-03T22:24:00.001-06:00

Due to the hustle and bustle of everyday life, I was scrooging holidays. Too tired to decorate, too tired for my normal fuss and bustle we all live for around here. But, Briz took Ladybug and Sunshine to fix fences and listen to conference down south for the weekend leaving Little Mother and I.

My weekend partner had plans, witnessed by her planner. So, the weekend was spent with my 9 year old buddy. We went to movies, out to dinner, garage sales, painted out nails, visited friends, painted her dresser, listened to all of conference together, and decorated for Halloween.

Her excitement for everything was contagious. Some of the decorating is off center or in less than perfect positioning, but she did much of it herself. I think it means even more that way. Nothing will convince her that we have not just had the premier weekend of our lives. I am so grateful to be able give her undivided attention for 3 short days.

The adventurers just arrived home. With wonder on their sleepy faces, they tour the house. "I remember that witch! That skeleton scared me!" But the most exciting find is the new Halloween Tree Advent calender I made with Jodi, tempting the innocent with promises of sweets, pencils, or stickers.

Friends, I think this mom is back in business.

1 Day

2010-08-22T19:45:00.000-06:00

What a difference a day makes.

24 little hours.

Brought the sun and flowers where there used to be rain,

There's a rainbow before me.

Skies above can't be stormy.

What a difference a day made. And the difference is a lack of yous.

Slumber

2010-08-10T07:23:00.000-06:00

I tiptoe through the early morning house. I stretch my legs in the dim morning light. i sit on the porch with scriptures and watch the sun come up. I listen to the snores coming from the family room, the slumber partiers are still slumbering. I lift the blanket to discover the identity of the snorer. Meoke! The party consisted of Move Over with Dorris Day and James Garner, you know, the one where she is presumed dead since she's been on a desert island for 5 years and comes back to find him married; popcorn, peach pie, dominoes, UNO, and slumber. I think I'll let everyone sleep in this morning while I enjoy this sun streaked, cool, peace.

The Power of Guilt

2010-08-07T21:01:00.000-06:00

Too much guilt weighs me down, immobilizes me, and places me in a dark place. However, I am a proponant of guilt in moderation. I find my guilt benefits those I love. When I go out for an evening with a friend or indulge in a small bit of spending, my small bit of guilt moves me to superhuman efforts for my husband and kids. The house is never so clean and I am never so kind as when I have indulged just a bit.

Guilt stuck our house again... in a positive way, to my way of thinking!

After the "very bad day", I woke in the middle of the night for a drink. A sign was placed on the fridge.

Curiosity moved me to Ladybug's bedroom, where I found several sign ups for her free cleaning service.

In the morning two apron bedecked entrapreneurs set up shop outside my bedroom. Not to be outdone, they had their own cleaning forms ready.

Happily, I engaged both companies. Meekly, yet creatively they took out the garbage, changed sheets, and wiped mirrors. Little Mother told me that the apron made her work better. As an apron fanatic, I had to agree. There is something about an apron that tells your mind it's time to work.

I did wonder after today, what horrible things I would have to endure to get another wonderful cleaning day out of my children.

Dodi and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

2010-08-03T20:30:00.001-06:00

I thought you'd enjoy a self portrait of yours truly today. Here are some of the highlights of my day:

Ladybug ripped the vaccume cord out of the wall and it broke off.
Friends came over and played in the basement. Costco table was broken and everything (including beads, and newly organized boxes) was spread over the floor.
Ladybug charged Sunshine with murder on her mind, knocked them both over injurring both and throwing a hot dog with ketchup and mustard on the carpet.
2 children I don't know jumped into my car and stomped the antique plates I'd just purchased for a shower into small smithereens.
Husband took chair downstairs to help bad day. Slipped on magazine a friend left on stairs, strained knees and legs, flipping chair into the wall and left a foot long hole in the wall.

Dodi and the terrible horrible no good very bad day.

For those of you who say you envy my "perfect" life, I thought I'd give a little reality.

I don't really like chocolate, ice cream makes me sick, What to do with a day like this except put everyone to bed? Tomorrow has got to look really good in comparison.

Ben Rover

2010-08-02T14:07:00.000-06:00

Nestled along a branch of the flathead river, the Ben Rover cabin is a quaint quiet retreat from the world and it’s hustle and bustle.

Equipped with an outhouse , an outdoor pump for water, propane lanterns, and no television or electricity, we were forcibly led to follow the patterns of nature and focus on people instead of manmade items without the ability to reciprocate our attention. Lazily, here, we finished our vacation with Greg, Deonne, Alex, Josh, Cody, and Megan. We planned no more hikes, sightseeing, or adventures, just those silence and peace could offer.

You’d think that the kids would go stir crazy. Yet, we saw less of them here than the rest of the trip. Each team of children took a turn at warming the water and hand washing our dishes. They eagerly volunteered to work the hand pump outside for our many water needs. They fished together and with their fathers. They found a mud hole and spent hours creating a spa of sorts.

Here, Alex was given a mud bath, but squishing mud between your toes with a special chant was the special entry code so I did not partake.

They built mud wells and chimneys, swimming holes, and secret enclosures.

They played Go Fish, War, Apples to Apples, Checkers, Truth or Dare and made up their own secret handshake type thing. With a dollar each, they rode bikes to the Polebridge Mercantile, purchased their treats then engaged in an elaborate sharing scheme.

We only called them in once when a bear was spotted some 50 yards from the cabin. Briz and his brother fished and fished. Briz particularly took time for his little Sunshine and among games of “baby” and “bear cub” helped her with her rock collection which contained a hot dog rock, a cheese rock, and other beautiful specimens.

I read. I napped. I wandered to the Polebridge Mercantile.

I pondered. I questioned Deonne endlessly to know her better and learn what I could from her. Such luxury. We ended our 10 day vacation, well rested, and well loved.

Backcountry Backpacking

2010-08-01T20:57:00.001-06:00

Once on a warm summer day, a family set off to have an adventure at the crown of the continent, Glacier National Park.

To really get to the heart of the crown, they walked through old burns and forests with dense underbrush.

Every few minutes Sunshine blew her bear whistle and Little Mother sang a friendly bear song to let the bears and wolf we passed know our location. Ladybug’s sharp eyes kept everyone supplied with berries. There were strawberries smaller than their pinky nail, bursting with honeyed sweetness; raspberries, not fully ripe but tart and tangy; and huckleberries, plump and purple, dripping with juice.

Over 5 miles into the wilderness, they camped near Logging Lake. This is one of the few Loon Lakes. Loons are very picky about where they live, so when you are at a Loon Lake, you are at a very special spot. The family woke to their calls echoing across the lake each morning.

The children learned to hang their food high in the air, way way above their dad’s head. They went to the bathroom in a special pit. Everything the family did was to preserve and protect the plants and animals in this special place. There was an endless supply of craft materials to create with.

They set up shop, buying and selling craft materials.

The deer did not mind the company. In fact, they sought it out throughout the day.

They ate with the children and swam with them.

The Ladybug spent all her time fishing and catching frogs.

The Little Mother and Sunshine became Pocahontas and her dog Lily. They spent most of their time in their underwear in the Lake.

The poor mom became a victim of the perfect ecosystem.

The mossquitos missed human flesh and didn’t mind the poisionous Deet at all. They ate and ate and ate the poor mom till she was quite sucked dry.

One night a beautiful storm hit the mountain valley. The mom and the Ladybug were awakened in their tent by bright flashes of light and violent shaking claps that echoed over and over the lake. The mom leaped out of the tent to save their drying belongings. She met the dad who left the other tent. They raced around then escaped soggily back to comfort frightened children in the tents. The Ladybug clung to the mother and hid her head. In the other tent, the Little Mother did the same to the dad. The mother threw back her head and laughed at the storm. Soon the Ladybug was laughing too. They laid and listened to the storm till the tent started to drip on their heads. Soon several inches gathered around their feet and above their heads. Their packing mattresses kept them just above the flood that gathered around their bodies. They giggled till the downpour turned to a drizzle. They left their floating tent and wandered around the dark for a while. Realizing that they were breaking the bear rules, they knocked on the other tent, and asked sanctuary. Everyone scooted over till there was room, and the dad gave his sleeping bag to the mom and the Ladybug to share. Everyone slept till late in the morning.

They all gained a bit more courage. Well, all but the Dad. It's pretty brave taking a bug hating wife and 3 little girls under 60 pounds carrying 30 pound packs deep into bear country. The Mom faced her bug nemesis with quiet acceptance, Ladybug from facing the storm, and Little Mother and Sunshine from packing and hiking longer than they thought they were capable of. But, that’s not surprising. After all, anytime you go into nature, you return with more than you were looking for.

Glacier Day 1

2010-07-29T11:59:00.000-06:00

Today was our introduction as Briz calls it, "Heaven". The trail to Hidden Lake was mostly glacier packed and I hiked it in my Tevas. Snow packed under my feet and it was QUITE refreshing. The Rocky Mountain Sheep hung out above us on the cliffs, but the goats wandered around us while we hiked. We collected their shedding fur from the pine trees. Everywhere one looked a new vista amazed and enchanted. Briz felt that if he sat for a week and meditated, he'd be translated.

Next on the Mary Falls trail, we encountered deer, the traditional frog catching, toads, tame mice, and a complete view of Juliette's backside. We harvested Huckleberries as we hiked feeling hunter-gatherish. The day ended at McKenzie River Steakhouse where Deonne and I tried to decode the amazing house dressing. A swim at the hotel pool and we are ready for our pack packing adventures tomorrow.

Hiawatha Trail

2010-07-27T11:38:00.000-06:00

The Hiawatha Bike trail is a bucket experience. (One to experience before you kick the bucket.) FIFTEEN miles of old train tracks turned bike heaven winds through soaring mountains, crosses suspended train tressles, burrows under dozens of tunnels and crosses state lines.

There is magic in whizing past such landscape without a roof, on your own power.

The first tunnel is 1 1/2 miles of 40 degree wet, pitch darkness. Bike lights or headlamps are required. Creeks run along either side of the tunnel, accidents are common (we watched 3), if you are downed, you could get hypothermia before the rangers could make it in for you.

Although I had a headlamp, it barely provided enough light for a small circle in front of me. I was stiff with uncomfort as I wobbled uncertainly through the tunnel. We had not gone far when I heard a terrified whimper from Little Mother behind me. "Mom! my light's gone out!"

"Come right behind me. Stay with me." I commanded. She whimpered, I checked every minute, "Are you with me?" After what seemed like forever, when we saw a light in the distance. When we emerged, Ladybug and Little Mother clamored on my lap. "That was horrible Mom. I was frozen and so scared." We did not dare tell them that when the shuttle brought us back, we would have to travel the tunnel again.

Greg, Deonne, Alex, Josh, Cody, and Megan joined us on our adventure. Deonne and I often rode side by side, talking, sharing the beauty, and enjoying each others company.

Alex and Little mother have been inseperable. She serves and looks up to him, while he takes excellent care of her, waits while she uses the bathroom, or picks her up when she falls.

Briz and Sunshine were connected - literally. And no one felt prouder of their pedaling and achievement than chorteling little Sunshine.

The trail was complete with ice water at strategic locations, tame chipmunks, stalagtites from the tunnels, and a healthy dose of terror. We stopped for lunch, drinks, and fun.

When we arrived, tired yet pleased to the beginning tunnel, I took my tag along and ran for a head start. I led the group into the pitch black. Little Mother confidently stated, "I'm not afraid this time. I've got my mom right here and Alex has my back." Well, I WAS afraid. The entire group was following my lead and I felt the responsibility. I longed to look ahead, but saw nothing but blackness that caused me to swerve. I focused on the small spot of light just ahead of me for that second, trusting it would be enough. Then as I moved forward, I had just enough light to get through that second. When I finally emerged with my group safe into the light, my relief was echoed in the sign, "Congratulations! You've made it to the end of the Hiawatha Trail."

Just what makes a family?

2010-07-26T23:00:00.000-06:00

What makes a family? I’ve pondered this question ever since we discovered we could not bear children of our own. What is the mysterious essence that makes family? Our culture tells us family is everything… that no other success will make up for its failure. We spend hours researching family trees, telling stories, and reading books all to strengthen “the family”.

If shared eye color or a reoccurring crooked toe are all it takes to make a family, Briz and I were sentenced by nature to a family less existence. We decided to take a gamble… a leap of sorts to see if we could create a family without tree lines, or a super close genetic pool. We theorized that love would pull us together into a family unit. I wanted to experiment on the idea that love didn’t automatically brew in the blood or womb, but was consciously decided in the brain.

The five of us couldn’t be more different. We like different things, we have different temperaments, and we don’t look alike, yet the decision to love binds us together strong enough to inspire sleepless nights, and exhausted days.

We drove through God’s country to the secluded farmhouse late at night. We let ourselves in and walked into the kitchen. The men sat around the T.V. and silently stared at us for an uncomfortably long time. “Can you take us to our trailer?” I ask. The white haired gentleman in overalls rose and silently walked us outside. On the way out, Jeni and Doreen met us at the door. Ladybug, this is Jeni. Recognition filled her face with a slow smile. She offered a long hug. After tucking the children, I sat awake and hoped we were doing the right thing joining in Ladybug’s birth family reunion. How would the next 2 days go? How could we spend 48 hours with people we’d never even met? I remembered that family has thus far been a conscious decision for us. It would be so again. Where there is love there is no fear.

We woke to family… family… and more family. 11 children, spouses, grandchildren, many married with children of their own converged on the yard the next morning.

A quick walk through the hay field and we were hiking in the national forest. Conversations with the teen boys showed them to be bright, kind, and sensitive. We found we all shared a love of fossil hunting. Within the next few hours, each little girl was clustered into a group of “cousins” their age.

Water games, crafts, cooking lessons, ping pong, bike rides, and the coveted raffles kept them busy without so much as a peep for 2 days.

I dove into the family reunion reserving nothing of myself for safety. I anxiously engaged each person who crossed my path. Not surprisingly, I didn’t meet a soul I didn’t like. I sorrowed for those with difficulties such as cancer or harder things; I celebrated with the newly engaged.

I warmed at the sight of Grandpa Rex in his farmer’s hat as he smiled his slow sweet smile. I learned the secrets of candy success from Grandma Doreen. We were inducted into the family secrets of 2 year old dried marshmallows.

I not only allowed Ladybug contact with Jeni and her new husband, I tried to create opportunities for it. “After all” I told myself, “I am in the parenting business for the good of these little ones, not for my own glorification.” Ladybug had many questions, for me… and for her. I warmed at the joy with which her blood “family” greeted her and all associated with her.

Our two days ended too soon. “You’re just a part of the family.” Doreen told us. “Please come to our next one,” said some teen aged girls, “You’re one of us now.” Many E-mails and phone numbers were exchanged along with promises to meet for lunch. We drove off amid tears and hugs.

Family seems to be more than chance. Added to the shared experience and similarities is an acceptance, a stretching and growing that stresses inclusion. I can’t help but notice…in permitting Ladybug’s family circle to grow, we expanded our own. Love is always the right choice.

Cousins

2010-07-21T13:48:00.000-06:00

When I was young, our cousins were our closest and most long lived friends. Each Sunday was spent at Grandma's or Nana's and the cousins would gather often. We grew up together. The only girl cousin my age lived in Texas. With eager anticipation, I awaited for news of their annual summer visit. Besides countless family parties, we always got at least one sleep over where secrets were shared, trouble was caused and bonds were made. The Texas cousins always seemed so much more worldly wise than us little country bumpkins. I held them in a bit of admiration. The only flaw that marred their visit was that in their presence we were relegated into second class grand kids, and nieces. We were certain that they were the favored ones, because we all, grandparents and uncles, doted on them.

Memories flooded back as this week, Little Mother's special cousin, Seena came to stay. As a mother, I am frustrated with my little one's late night giggling, constant requests for special favors and activities, and desires to impress her California cousin with her worldliness. However, I do remember. Every moment. They prepared for the visit with several hour long phone calls in which they discussed everything from what they wanted to be when they grew up to the current temperament of their siblings. Seena is gone now, but I am certain, that like my cousins, she will remain an indelible part of Little Mother's childhood.

I saw and spoke with my special Texas cousin at a reunion this last weekend. I don't know her life struggles or successes. We lost contact a few years after she married. I hug her. I still see her in there. My heart is warm with shared years, with my anticipation and my admiration.

We exchange information and a hope that we can reconnect. I wonder if something similar will happen to my two little cousins who swear they are twins separated at birth. I hope their relationship will carry them through the tough things ahead. I hope that even when they realize that they are really different that they still love each other...Cousins.

The Perfect Day

2010-07-15T23:15:00.000-06:00

It was going to be the kind of day that made the strong, weak in the knees.  So much to be accomplished, the list alone was enough to pop my head back under the covers in defeat. 

I needed help.  My 9 year old and 5 year old struggled to accomplish their own chores.  How would they respond to my request for extra.  It's also summer.  They need adventures.  So I made a simple list... on one side, the work that needed to be accomplished, on the other, 3 simple adventures I could incorporate into my own requirements. 

Adventures

1.  Go to the $ store to pick up matching flip flops to decorate with her favorite cousin. (I needed to go to the salon next door for eyebrow waxing)

2.  Pick up a movie at Redbox (by where I pick up my Rx and few groceries we need), watch it with popcorn (while I iron and they fold socks)

3.  Take a bike ride to get a special treat. (To all of the above places).

The two not at girl's camp, marked off their lists one by one till it was time for our first adventure.

As we faced the mostly uphill ride for our errands, little Sunshine's feet pedaled faster and faster, 20 times to my one as she worked her miniature bike without gears.  "I can do it mom.  I ran the mile.  Emily can do it.  I can too."  She wobbled in and out, crashed once on grass, once on a light pole, and once on the sidewalk.   The sergeant's voice that sometimes escapes my throat, barks, "On the right! On the right!  Look up!  Look Up!  Stop!  Hey.  That's a car!  No more tricks.  Keep your feet on the pedals, not the handlebars or you'll never ride with me again!"  Now I know I parents bark from fear.  Well, take a look at my demonic dare devil who has only been riding 1 month.  I'm scared. 

After our errands are complete, we pick our favorite treats and stop at the town fountain to munch.  We are hot so we cool off a bit.  Their heads rest on my shoulders.  We coast all the way home, our backpacks filled with groceries. 

We work. 

We watch Hatchi and cry over our folded socks and crisp colors.  They eat popcorn in cute containers. 

We work. 

We go out to eat at Chic Fill A  Kid's eat Free night. 

"This is the luckiest day we've ever had." says Sunshine. 

"You mean this summer?"  I query.

"No.  Ever."

We work till 9:00 p.m. I'm exhausted. 

The disastrous basement that has been staring at us for 6 months is walkable.  The laundry is all done and pressed.  More wheat bread is made and delivered.  The girl's chores are complete.  Little Mother winds the cord around the vacuum.  "I feel awesome!  Don't you feel awsome Mom?" 

The day after was a complete party.  Swimming, one friend after another, special treats.... Sunshine declared it was a lucky day.  "But not as lucky as yesterday."

Why was yesterday so special I wonder?    I had a major "ah ha".  We protect our children too much...from hard work, from responsibility, from tasks that encourage independence.  1.The joy of biking, feeling the wind in your hair, zooming along from your own power coupled with the knowledge that YOU are capable of getting important places, that you need not be dependent on parents is heady stuff.  It must have been like riding your horse to town when they did that kind of thing. 2."It was a girl day."  said Sunshine.  They loved being with me all day.  Even when I got bossy and sharp.  3.  They felt the pleasure of completeing a ginormous task and witnessing the efforts of our labor.  

Accomplishment. Joy. Burgeoning Independence.

Birthdays and Budgies

2010-07-13T17:28:00.000-06:00

Good Morning Ladybug!!! Happy birthday!

Yep. More additions to the castle menagerie.

Pyewackit will love them just as she loved Rocky.

After a full day of a pool party with lots of crazy games, a pasta bar, cake pops, and flip flop craft with flowers, Ladybug declares it the best birthday ever.

I bring in the dishes and fall asleep on the sofa. The smile is my payment.

Gethsemene

2010-07-11T13:03:00.001-06:00

In Primary today we introduced the kids to a new song we will use in our Sacrament meeting presentation. The sound didn't work and you could barely hear it if you sat completely still. The junior primary, aged 3-8, hushed their noisy feet and whispering voices till you could have heard a whisper from across the room. In complete silence, they watched this clip. When it was over, our most rambunctious little 5 year old jumped up and shouted, "Can we do it again?" When he got a negative nod, he pled, "What about tomorrow?"

I have never seen or felt such reverence as I did today with my wild bunch of 50 children. I knew they KNEW better than I did of what this song mentioned. They accepted it with a full and immediate heart. I am humbled by the greatness of their souls.

Enjoy.

Exploration

2010-07-08T23:24:00.000-06:00

My chicks are exploring outside the nest.

Little Mother went to visit her aunt, uncle and cousins in Wellsville for a few days. She came back and hid from me for about a half an hour. When we talked about it this evening, she discovered that she felt that her "great visit" had changed her, that she was different and a different Little Mother didn't know how to greet her Mama. Tomorrow, Lesa, a good friend of mine, is taking her with her grown children boating. She will have another different kind of experience than she is used to. She will stretch, beat those wings a bit more, come to understand herself a bit more and have a blast.

Next week Ladybug leaves for girl's camp.... 5 days. Hikes, fun leaders, teamwork, girl's talk, testimony meeting. She doesn't know it yet, but her world is about to change. She will come back a different little Ladybug.

This exploration is bittersweet. I find myself reluctant to let them go. I selfishly want to be there for each new experience, when they discover new ways of doing things, when they discover depths in themselves, when they experience the first stirrings of testimony. I don't want to miss a moment. I'm their Mom for crying out loud. But I know that my continual presence can be a detriment to their growth.

I find myself in conflict with me. We've had a good talking to, explored our feelings, and I think I understand myself a bit better.

Growth comes from new experiences, new people, distance from the nest, beating those wings just a bit. I've experienced that each encounter imprints new thoughts and ideas about the world. How fortunate I am to have friends, family, that are good people, great people to sheperd my fledgelings. If they must spread their wings, how wonderful to do it in the company of high moral standards, good habits, and love.

I fought so hard for custody of these little ones. I even kept the right sized extinguisher close to the stove per government regulation. I cried happy tears as the judge declared each one to be my legal child. Mine. All mine. I didn't realize that each day I'd give them up more and more... that their whole childhood was teaching them to fly away from me.

YET... In allowing them to fly, in giving them to themselves to discover, they return freely... not out of need for food or shelter but for love.

Fly little ones Fly.