Hinges

Dylan's perspective

2012-01-29T16:36:00.000-08:00

We re-started the Book of Mormon for our family scripture study this year, and a week or so ago we were reading about how the boys' mom started to murmur because she thought they were probably dead when they went to retrieve the brass plates from Laban. We talked about how long it must have taken to walk back to Jerusalem, and the first two attempts at getting the brass plates, etc. Then I explained that it was a long, long time ago, and there wouldn't have been any way for them to check in and let their mom know that they were OK. I said, "They didn't have any phones, or email or Facebook, or even a post office."

Dylan got big, wide eyes, raised his eyebrows and exclaimed, "Yeah, and they wouldn't have had any swim flippers, either!"

I wasn't sure how swim flippers were relevant to their situation, but I agreed. He was right, after all.

I Blinked Again

2012-01-25T17:42:00.000-08:00

I peeked around the computer to see what the kids were doing, and Keira was sitting up in the child-size wooden rocking chair (which she had climbed into by herself), rocking happily while drinking from her sippy cup and when she noticed me looking, she unleashed one of those wonderful squinty-eyed, squished nose, open mouth smiles of hers. She looked so grown up.

For a split second I thought, "I'm running out of babies. And I don't think I get anymore for a while." My heart stammered a bit. Couldn't decide if that was a relief or a little heartbreaking.

No matter what I do, they seem to just keep growing up at warp speed.

New Year?

2012-01-24T08:19:00.000-08:00

As I logged into blogger the other day to read a few friends' posts, I realized I had one blog post this month, and it was mostly photos.

I haven't written very much the last year. Its not that I haven't tried. But I sit down at the keyboard or with a notebook, and everything gets so jumbled--the exact opposite of what my brain's reaction to a fresh page has always been. Most of the challenges of the last year or two haven't been able to knock me off my feet--with a few rare, momentary exceptions, I've been on a pretty even keel, and usually have remained overall quite optimistic. It never escapes me that whatever challenges we have, we have too many blessings to count, and so we ought to be happy--not complacent in our circumstances, but faithfully cheerful.

But Doug has been unemployed for over a year now. There are things that we genuinely need that keep getting put off. No clear employment prospects are ahead of us, and we still haven't entirely figured out how to make our long-term desires doable, let alone meet immediate needs. I'm grateful that we've been so well taken care of. I'm grateful to be in Montana and with my family, but at the same time I miss my friends so terribly much. Having my phone break on the way here has been a challenge--I've had almost no communication with my friends since we left. The other day, there was something funny I wanted to text message to Emily and I couldn't, and I got a little bummed out. Moving hasn't entirely broken the habit of reading the local news for Tulare county, and disappointments continue to abound.

Its been a strange time for us, emotionally, as some relationships have ended (burying a couple of grandparents), some have had progress being reestablished after long estrangement, and others are (at least temporarily) suspended due to confusion, disappointment or hurt. I hate those kind of self-imposed boundaries, and yet sometimes in life they are necessary for everybody's health and sanity.

The other day, I finally had a mini breakdown. I'm not an overly-emotional person; I don't cry a lot, I don't throw tantrums much, and I'm not really much of a brooder. But I had thought of the third thing-we-need-but-really-can't-afford that day, and then something small went a bit awry (so itty bitty that now I can't even remember what it was) and I started to cry. For about five minutes, I just cried really hard and I wasn't even entirely sure why until I heard myself say, "I just need a break from my life!" (I said this to myself, apparently, as I was alone). I started mumbling about how I hated being the calm one, the balanced one, the chore-accomplishing one, the baths-and-school-and-homework-and-groceries one. The mom.

And when I got to that moment, I pulled myself together and stopped whining. I'm the mom. This is my job. There are people counting on me. I willingly and intentionally took this responsibility on myself when I decided to be a mom. Of course, I didn't know all the details of what that would mean, and no one does, but I knew it wouldn't be easy. For goodness sake, if childbirth doesn't clue you into the fact that motherhood is going to be hard, you're probably a bit too slow to be raising children very well.

I suddenly remembered a conversation a few years ago, where I had said something to Doug about how sometimes I hate the talks that General Authorities give about motherhood, because it just ends up feeling like the whole world is on our shoulders as women, and he smiled wryly and immediately responded, "Well, it is." After I laughed, he added, "But not just yours." We have a Father who loves us, and ultimately he shape us and direct us for good. I am not the last line of defense for my family, and it is always such a relief for very imperfect, flawed and impatient little me to remember that. It changes my focus.

I remember that I am needed by others. That I have made certain covenants, and that those covenants involve a whole lot of responsibility to those around me--first and foremost my husband and children. I haven't been the best wife and mother lately--I can do better. I haven't been the best friend or sister lately--I can be better.

Whatever our troubles, our children our well-fed, well-dressed and have a warm home to come back to at the end of the day. That is so much more than most people in circumstances such as ours can say. And those are not our only blessings, not by a long shot. I need to stop and look around more often and really look. Keilana and Dylan have each grown about an inch and a half in the last couple of months. Keira is starting to walk and saying a few words. Kylie has developed whole new big-word repertoires to converse and entertain with. Life keeps moving, no matter what I do, so its best to jump in and enjoy the little moments. Too often we let life's stresses wrap us up in ourselves, so that we look all day at our loved ones and all the rest of the good folks around us and never see them.

Its a new year, a good a time as any to refocus my energies. What needs have I missed in others because I was so wrapped up in my own little troubles? What have I not seen because I spent so much time worrying about me?

Have I done any good in the world today?

Home

2012-01-06T09:17:00.001-08:00

There are a whole lot of nice things about living around here. Like the world looking like this everyday:

Or being just a short distance from this beautiful place:

Not a California mission, but a beautiful one, nonetheless.

Its been nice for Ginger to have so much space to run around:
And, most importantly, the kids have really been enjoying it:

Of course, what's not to love about Yaya and Papa's yard? Its pretty fabulous.

2011

2011-12-31T21:49:00.000-08:00

Its hard to believe its been a year. The year began with a bang--just a few days after our holiday guests went home and as I was putting away the Christmas decorations and cleaning up after the tree, Doug came home late in the morning, angry tears fresh on his cheeks, and told me he didn't have a job. Part of me wanted to freak out, but mostly I felt relieved. I had been half-expecting it for months, and mentally preparing myself for that possibility on a daily basis for weeks. I didn't know what would happen, where to go from that moment, but at least one type of uncertainty was over, and the nature of the uncertainty changed.

That was 361 days ago.

We took a trip to Cal Poly to see what it would take to get Doug's master degree completely, officially finished. It looked to be just in time, and as we pursued that avenue, things kept falling into place just right. While we were over at the coast, we stopped in to visit Doug's dad. The kids had only met him once before, as had I, so we sat and visited with him for several hours and started to get acquainted. Several necessary trips to Cal Poly throughout the quarter gave Doug the opportunity to spend some time with his father, something he hadn't done in a long time.

In the spring we welcomed our little St Patrick's Day baby. I put off the induction in order to make it a little easier for my mom to come for the birth and so that Keira (or Ciara, if you prefer the proper Gaelic) could be a St. Patty's baby, and that almost didn't work. The hospital called 15 minutes before I was about to leave and told me they were slammed and I'd have to wait. I didn't make it to the hospital until lunch time, and the induction seemed to be going as slow as the rest did, and I was pretty sure I would have a March 18th baby. But, at the last minute (or hour, as the case was here), things started to move along quickly and she made it with 50 minutes to spare.

Just before Easter, Doug's grandmother (Katy's mother) passed away. It was not a surprise, as she'd been sick for some time and in that sense it was a relief. Though she has been missed, it was wonderful to have the opportunity to spend some more time with Doug's sisters and their husbands, and listen to them all tell wonderfully funny stories about their grandma's spunky personality.

The kids finished their school year in Lindsay, just as Doug was getting near the end of his time line for school, and it became apparent that he was not going to finish his project by the end of the quarter. Thanks to an understanding and very, very encouraging professor, the project was finished, but most of our summer was eaten up by it.

In the mean time, I was hunting for jobs for Doug, and he applied for quite a few. Nothing. No interviews. No call backs. Fewer and fewer options. School started for the kids, and we started trying to identify what our options were--it was obvious they were getting fewer and fewer. By the fall, we knew something had to give. Our savings dwindling rapidly, no offers forthcoming, we made the decision to move.

Its good to be home.

We spent the month of October cleaning and painting the house, packing and arranging and prioritizing, and then, the first week of November, with all that we could fit into two Dodge Caravans and a Honda Accord, we drove to Montana.

Its nice to be here a couple of months and realize that I wasn't romanticizing Montana and the freedom of the lifestyle--it really is that wonderful. Its nice to realize that I wasn't romanticizing my family because of the distance--I really do like them that much. Lindsay was so good to me, and my in-laws have been such a wonderful blessing, that I didn't realize until I came home just how much I was still living outside my comfort zone the past 7 years. When we left Hawaii, Doug went back to California, but I went to a whole other completely new and unfamiliar place, to a family I barely knew. I feel so much more at ease in so many ways than I have in a long, long time. I've spent a third of my life now somewhere besides here, but its always been home in my heart. Its good to have it again, if only for a little while.

That being said, I do miss my in-laws and my friends. I'm so glad to be with my sisters again, and yet a part of me feels like I'm a few sisters short. Emotionally and socially, my sisters function a lot more like I do than my in-laws do, and that familiarity is comforting, but I also missed the way being so close to my in-laws made me live outside my comfort zone so much--I'm a better person for it, and I'm grateful to have people in my life who push me to be better, who help me to understand and love people so different from myself, and love me even when I fall short.

I've learned a lot this year, and often in uncomfortable ways, but I can't say that I'm unhappy to have learned the lessons. I wish that I hadn't been so terribly disappointed. I wish the disappointment was a surprise. I wish that my friends, some of the people I love, admire and respect the most, hadn't been hurt. But even if we're bruised and tattered a bit, I think we're all standing a little taller for it, and I can't think of better people to be standing at my side. Three years ago when we considered making this move, we very much felt the answer was "Not yet" rather than "No". I now understand some of the reasons we needed to be in Lindsay the last three years, especially this one. Every rough tumble is so completely worth feeling that tremendously loved by people that good and decent and likable.

So here we are, a year later, totally broke and still jobless. Still hopeful. We may have a long term plan, if only we can figure out how to live in the short term. We're seriously considering putting Doug back in school one last time, for a Master's Degree in architecture. It would be a long and expensive process. But five years of expense and times (and 20 years of student loan payments) seem a small price to pay in the long run if it means doing what you love, what you're passionate about, for 30 year after that. Am I nuts? I think with time and practice added to his natural abilities and his drive, he could be one hell of an architect. But even if he's only ever average, at least he'll love what he does. He'll be happy. That's what I want for my kids: a daddy who comes home happy because he feels like he's doing something worthwhile and he's enjoying it.

So here's hoping that the lessons of 2012 will be a little less painfully learned than those of 2011. It has not been lost on me this year how many wonderful, amazing blessings we've received. I hope to see things come together for friends and relatives who are in similar circumstances to us. They deserve good things.

We're OK. We have each other, we have our marvelous children, we have amazing families, and we have the very, very best of friends. I thank the Lord for that--in the people he has placed in our lives, he has blessed us more than we deserve.

Happy new year.

Sunshine

2011-12-29T19:18:00.000-08:00

2011 has been a challenging year. But one of the best things about it, hands down, has been welcoming and getting to know our little Keira Bell. In an otherwise sometimes bleak and cloudy year, she has been a ray of soft light. She is mostly mellow, usually happy, and has just enough Irish in her to keep things interesting. She started smiling on purpose at 3 weeks, and hasn't stopped. She's a little sunbeam, a window into eternal blessings at a time when they could've been easy to lose sight of. I'm so very, very grateful that she came to us this year. I've already learned a lot from her.

Perfect

2011-12-24T20:49:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking a lot about perfection lately. . .mostly about how far away it is, or seems. In the scriptures the Lord says, "Be ye therefore perfect. . ." Most days that seems like an overwhelming commandment.

I remembered recently that when I was a teenager, my dad told me that another translation of the Hebrew word from whence that term "perfect" comes is "whole" or "complete". As I pondered Christmas this year, that thought kept coming back to me over and over again: whole. I think we've had a lot of feelings of inadequacy, incompleteness at our house this year, trying to figure out how to patch all the holes.

The promise of Christmas is a promise of perfection, of wholeness. The first Christmas was anything but "perfect" as most new mothers would define it--giving birth in a barn, days from home, with little support. The first Christmas was painful, bloody and exhausting. But from that discomfort came a perfect, new little life. The bookend to that life was filled with anguish, blood and exhaustion. But from that blood and anguish came a path to perfection for the rest of us, as incomplete as we now are.

What does a promise of wholeness mean to you? As I talked this evening with my 83-year-old diabetic grandmother who has leukemia and congestive heart failure, I pondered what the promise of wholeness means to her. I thought of a very dear, far away friend, facing the huge daily challenges of raising a profoundly autistic daughter, and pondered what the promise of wholeness must mean to her. I thought of other loved ones who suffer from difficult, and sometimes debilitating, chemical or structural imbalances and pondered what the promise of perfection means to them.

The imperfections in body, mind and spirit are not so obvious with everyone. Some people are good enough at hiding the thin patches that few besides the Savior even know that they're there. But he does know. He knows the fatigue of the supermom who is more tired than she dare tell anyone. He knows the hidden sorrow of the parent who watches their child drift through life, directionless and unfulfilled. He knows the loneliness of the widowed grandparent who isn't sure whether they want to stay or go.

He knows you. He loves you. He can patch the holes. That was the promise given to the world that first Christmas: a Savior who will love you no matter what, who knows you through and through and will bring you comfort and joy, even or especially when you don't know where to find it yourself. "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." He'll fill in the holes as we work our way through this life--helping us to carry the burdens we cannot carry ourselves, giving us that encompassing, eternal comfort that does not exist apart from him--and someday, through the power of the Atonement, making us completely whole and perfect in ourselves, so that through Him we can gain all that He hath and be His joint heirs in our Father's kingdom.

We have a Father who loves us, who offered His one perfect son as a ransom for our sins and transgressions that we might be made whole and return to Him. How could we refuse such a gift? All he asks in return is a broken heart and contrite spirit--a humble willingness to forsake our sins and follow him. A small price to pay for eternal joy.

His law is love and His gospel is peace. In knowing that, sleep in heavenly peace. Much love and a very merry Christmas.

Becky

White Christmas

2011-12-22T07:41:00.000-08:00

Keilana's favorite Christmas movie is White Christmas. She wakes up at about 6-6:30 every morning, regardless of when she went to bed, and school doesn't start until 8:20 (and we only have to leave about five minutes before that, because we live about a quarter mile from the school) so she watches it almost every morning.

We had a big snow storm about a week after we got here. Then it warmed up and has been snow-less and fall or spring-like for a month. It was starting to look like we would have a greenish brown Christmas. Then in the middle of the night Tuesday night, it started to snow. And kept snowing, for most of the day yesterday. There's several inches of beautiful and, as Dylan put it, "sparkly snow". This morning on the way to the car, he exclaimed, "There's snow everywhere! We'll have a white Christmas after all!!" I'm glad that their first Christmas in Montana is a snowy one.

In the mean time, we are settling in well. Still looking for a job. Sort of trying not to panic on that front, but everything else is going well. Starting to formulate a long-term plan if we can figure out how to get through the short-term. And I will start blogging again soon--its been a busy couple of weeks. We're having a homemade Christmas this year, so I've made three stick horses, two skirts, two purses, three superhero capes, a bow tie, a neck tie, four poinsettia hair pins, three pairs of soft-soled baby shoes/slippers and that's eaten up pretty much all of my time that isn't occupied by baby-wrangling and toddler-chasing.

In case I don't see you again, merry Christmas!

Christmas talk

2011-12-13T08:41:00.000-08:00

So. . .moving into a small ward generally means that you're not off the hook for long. Doug and I spoke in Sacrament this past Sunday. Following is more or less the text of my talk.

When we were asked to speak last week, no topics were provided for us. I was tempted to recycle the talk I gave in our last ward just before we moved, but then as we were watching the Christmas devotional last Sunday, something President Uchtdorf said got my mind going, and I decided to follow those thoughts.

He spoke of the gifts that the wise man brought to the Christ child, and the gifts we offer to the Lord. He then spoke of the unfathomable gifts that the Savior offers us and said that this may be the most lopsided gift-giving in the entire universe.

As he spoke, I thought of the little drummer boy. Aside from O Holy Night, my favorite Christmas song has long been “The Little Drummer Boy”—perhaps because I tend to be prone to feelings of inadequacy or smallness, the story of a poor boy with nothing but a drum has always resonated with me. Here he is, brought before not just a king, but the King, told to bring his “finest gifts”, and he feels he has nothing to give that is fit for such a recipient. Yet he steps up and plays his best for the Christ child. And the baby smiles at him. What a marvelous thought. The Savior, who assisted in our creation and knows us intimately, is well aware of what gifts we have and which we don’t. He knows what we are capable of, and he knows better than anyone what we lack. All he asks is that we humbly and willingly offer whatever gifts we have, so long as we offer them with our whole heart.

As we celebrate the Savior’s birth and the marvelous gift of his life, what are the best gifts that we can offer in return for all that he has done for us? As I pondered that, I thought of a remark that was made by one of my loved ones recently. When asked who or what she would be and why if she could’ve been present at the Nativity, she answered that she would like to have been the star—to be a clear, guiding light, so that people could look up and know where they’re going, and that its somewhere good—to know that if they just followed this beautiful light, they would find joy.

I greatly admired the faith and wisdom inherent in that thought. As individuals who have covenanted to take upon us the name of Christ, to do as he would do, this is exactly the gift we should be offering our Savior: to share our testimonies and live as examples to shine his light for those who, wandering in the darkness, are seeking him. We ought to be beacons, shining the light of hope and truth to those who have not yet found him.

All too often, we hesitate to be that light for others. Sometimes that hesitation comes from fear or vanity: we’re afraid that we will be thought simple or foolish or a whole host of other unpleasant things, so refuse to open our mouths or make any bold moves--we hide our candle under a bushel, as it were. Often, that hesitation comes from a different kind of pride: because we know that we are imperfect vessels, we allow the adversary or our own doubts to convince us that we are wholly unworthy ones. We convince ourselves that we can’t possibly have any gifts worthy of the King of Kings and Lord or Lords, because we are poor souls with nothing but a little drum. But the fact is that, though the church has grown by leaps and bounds, less than one half of one percent of the individuals currently living on the earth are members of the church. There is far too much work to be done for us to indulge in self-pity.

At this time of year, as my kids start watching Christmas movies, I always notice how many of them are about belief, about growing cynical with age and losing one’s child-like faith. So many movies set during Christmas are about people wanting to believe in something good—to believe that there is such a thing as purity and selfless love. These movies often carry a theme of homesickness at Christmas, even when you’re home. Too many people are rather blamelessly unaware of the source of purity and selfless love and the resulting joy—they lack the knowledge that much of Christmastime homesickness is a longing for a home we can’t remember, but some part of us knows is there and wants to return to. They don’t understand that that the “spirit of Christmas”, the spirit that inspires them to serve, to give, to be more patient and kind and compassionate, is the spirit of Christ.

In times such as these, that knowledge is so important, because without that understanding, the difficulty of the circumstances that so many people are in causes them to lose their grip on that joy. They don’t entirely understand the source of it, so they aren’t sure how to find it when life gets difficult or messy. There are so many distractions, so many different voices in the world driving people in so many different directions. We ought to speak up more often and more confidently, be a little kinder, a little more thoughtful, a little more patient and giving so that through our testimonies and examples they might find that source of pure joy. We must tend to our testimonies through scripture study and prayer and service so that flame of faith will shine clearly to those who are still wandering in the darkness.

Most of the world is still familiar the story of a little baby lying in a manger because there was no room for him in the inn. But too many people know too little about his life and why it mattered. President Hinckley once said, “There would be no Christmas if there had been no Easter. The babe Jesus of Bethlehem would be but another baby without the redeeming Christ of Gethsemane and Calvary and the triumphant fact of the Resurrection.” That’s what Isaiah meant when he said, “Unto us a child is born; unto us a son is given. . .” That’s why we celebrate. That’s why we give presents and make cookies and decorate trees. Because the Father gave his son, and the son gave his life.

Many times I’ve pondered the fact that one of the last acts of service the Savior gave, before the ultimate act of service of the Atonement, was to wash his apostles feet. This has always struck me as one of the most humble acts of his singularly humble life. He made lame men walk and blind men see. He healed lepers and raised the dead. These were all incredible acts of service. But what of this act of washing feet? It was not miraculous. There was no glory in this service. It was a dirty, probably most unpleasant job, and the only result was clean feet. But I’m sure hearts were cleansed, as well, as he, the greatest being who ever lived, kneeled at a basin and scrubbed the filthy feet of the men to whom he was teacher and master. If we serve with humble hearts, out of love for Him and those we serve, the Lord will sustain us. It may take a long time to see any results, but He will help us scrape away the dirt and mud and stains to cleanse that which has been dirtied by the world.

That was the Savior’s parting lesson to His apostles: if you would lead people, if you would teach them, if you want them to ever “get it”, you must serve them, humbly and selflessly. As Christmas approaches, we should stop and ask ourselves, “Have I been the friend that I ought to be? Have I given way to anger where prayerful compassion ought to hold sway? Have I given up where something more could be done?” When we are tempted to hide our candle under a bushel, we ought to remember how the Lord served us.

A few years ago, in a powerful address entitled, “And None Were With Him”, Elder Holland said, “I speak of those final moments. . .that concluding descent into paralyzing despair of divine withdrawal when He cries out in ultimate loneliness, ‘My God, my God, why has Thou forsaken me?’

“But Jesus held on. He pressed on. The goodness in Him allowed faith to triumph even in a state of complete anguish. The trust He lived by told Him in spite of His feelings that divine compassion is never absent, that God is always faithful, that he never flees nor fails us. When the uttermost farthing had then been paid, when Christ’s determination to be faithful was as obvious as it was utterly invincible, finally and mercifully, it was ‘finished’. Against all odds and with none to help or uphold Him, Jesus of Nazareth, the living Son of the living God, restored physical life where death had held sway and brought joyful, spiritual redemption out of sin, hellish darkness and despair. With faith in a God He knew was there, He could say in triumph, ‘Father into thy hands I commend my spirit. . .May we stand by Jesus Christ ‘at all times and in all things and in all places that [we] may be in, even unto death’, for surely that is how He stood by us when it was unto death and when He had to stand entirely and utterly alone.”

No one, not even the most righteous and talented and blessed among us, will ever come close to repaying even a fraction of the gift we were all given. But if we can stand confidently and humbly and, like the little drummer boy, “play our best for him”, I do think he smiles at us—that he is pleased with our sincere service. “Unto us a son is given.” Without that, every other gift would be meaningless. With it, every faithful effort is sanctified. In the shadow of the ultimate gift, every other gift seems so small. But by faithful exercise of our agency, we very slowly work towards exaltation, and a chance to bless other lives with knowledge of gifts of eternal value. We each have to start somewhere, even if we’re too poor and inexperienced to offer anything but a pleasant beat on our little drum. He makes up the difference in whatever we lack.

That’s the gift we celebrate this time of year: a Savior, a Redeemer, who does for us that which we cannot do for ourselves, however valiantly we may try. Someone who steps in and pays the price to cleanse us of our sins, make us whole and carry our burdens that would sometimes be too heavy to bear alone. We all know individuals and families who are struggling and tired, and we may not be able to carry those burdens for them, but as our gift to them and to the Lord, we can try to be a guiding light to point them to he who says, “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. . .in the world, ye shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”

Truly those are glad tidings of great joy. The angel who announced the Savior’s birth declared, “Peace on earth, good will to men.” We must remember that peace on earth is found person by person, one by one. My Christmas prayer is that as we find peace in the Savior’s love and Atoning sacrifice, we will share that love with those who have not yet known it, that our Father might welcome all his children home.

Christmas Countdown

2011-12-01T15:04:00.001-08:00

So the other day, a friend was blogging about preparing for Christmas and the ways we keep the right focus and spirit as we do that, and I mentioned that usually (with varying degrees of success in consistency) we read a Christ or Christmas-focused scripture each night in December, and have some kind of activity together (which may or may not have anything to do with the scripture). So I told her I'd blog my scripture list. Its in no particular order, and the scriptures that have particular activities attached to them are noted. I thought that since today is the first of December, I best get it up.

1. 1 Nephi 11:8, 25 (Nephi's description of the Tree of Life) *Put up tree

2. Isaiah 1:18 (tho your sins be as scarlet, they will be as white as snow) *Cut out paper snowflakes

3. John 10:11, 14-16/Luke 2:7 (I am the good shepherd/shepherds tending their fields) *Put candy canes on the tree

4. John 8:12 (I am the light of the world) *Go on light drive

5. Matt 2:11 (Wise men bring gifts)--Letters to Santa/Angel tree gifts

6. John 1:3 (All things made by him) *Pinecone reindeer or other similar craft

7. Micah 5:2 (Savior will come out of Bethlehem) *Watch Nativity Story as a family

8. Joshua 24:15 (as for me and my house, we will serve the lord) *Make gingerbread/graham cracker houses

9. Nephi 2:25 (Men are that they might have joy) *Town tree lighting/hayride

10. John 13:34 (Love one another) *Ward Christmas party

11. D&C 110:3 (Description of Lord's appearance--hair like driven snow) *Q tip snowflake ornaments

12. 2 John 1:6 (If you love me, walk after my commandments) *Footprint reindeer

13. Moses 1:39 (my work and my glory to bring to pass eternal life of man) *Make wreath together

14. Isaiah 9:6 (His name shall be called. . .) *Name subway art (Jesus Christ, Immanuel, Savior, Wonderful, Counselor, etc--let kids write/become familiar with titles)

15. Mosiah 3:8

16. Ps 27:1 (Lord is my light and salvation)

17. Job 19:25 (I know that my redeemer liveth)

18. Isaiah 53:3-5 (he hath borne our sorrows and carried our griefs)

19. 2 John 4:8, 16 (God is love)

20. Helaman 14:2-5

21. John 14:15 (If ye love me, keep my commandments)

22. Ephesians 3:14-15

23. John 16: 27-28, 33 (Be of good cheer, I have overcome the world)

24. Luke 2--read Christmas story and sing "Silent Night"

Feel free to use this with your family if you like, arranging it in whatever way works best for your schedule and the ages of your children. For my non-Mormon friends, you'll have to find a few replacements for Book of Mormon scriptures (or, better yet, just add the BOM to your family scriptures!! :) ).

Thankfuls

2011-11-26T21:56:00.000-08:00

Its hard to know where to even begin with everything I'm grateful for. The list is toooooo long to go over here, so just so you know, what I'm most thankful for every day is

Him,

and his animated eyebrows,

off beat world view

strange pockets of knowledge that catch me off guard

simple pleasures

and his current passion for snow pants

and camo boots;

Her,

and her disarming smile

and the frequency with which she flashes it,

and her Umphrey dimples

and Umphrey ears

and good-natured sociality;

Her,

and her enthusiasm for being alive

her helpfulness with her younger siblings

her love of cold air

and her careful attention to

and understanding of

the things that really matter;

Her,

and her constant desire for affection,

her surety that she can ballet dance,

her confidence

and those beautiful blue eyes

that let me look right into her little soul,

'cause she just puts it all out there;

and Hubby,

of whom I have no recent photos,

for the way he pushes me to be better

in a way I'd never push myself

for the way he makes the kids giggle and squeal

when he plays with them

for his desire to raise his family the right way

and his refusal to accept anything less.

I'm so glad that they're all mine,

and that I'm theirs.

And I'm glad that we're all home.

Parting shot

2011-11-26T21:40:00.000-08:00

A couple of weeks before we left, the Ashcrafts invited us over to have dinner, watch the Fresno/Boise game and just hang out. It was wonderful to be able to spend some time like that with them one more time. I love this shot--Clint reading to the little girls. Kylie, who was so terribly, painfully shy as a baby and young toddler, was always comfortable in this house, with these people. She let Emily hold her. This was the first place, other than at home, that she dared wander from my side; when she was about 10 months old, still crying incessantly when left anywhere without me and clinging constantly to my side any time we left the house, she happily toddled off to play with other kids or sit with Clint and Emily. Maybe the Ashcrafts are magic--it sometimes felt that way. Humble, kind and so very much fun, they are some of my favorite people, too.

I realized after we left that I have no pictures of myself with the Tree girls, and very few pictures of them at all. Angie Meik and Emily Ashcraft are sisters, my closest friends in California these last few years, and I felt like their adopted little sister. They loved me so well, and I love that their husbands were Doug's closest friends, and we were all so at ease in each other's company. I miss them already. I miss that their youngest girls were Kylie's best friends. I miss Morgan's quiet insight in Sunday School. I miss Cotter's enthusiasm and help with the younger kids. You don't find friends like these very often.

The Joseph Smith quote has come back to me quite often lately:

“How good and glorious it has seemed unto me, to find pure and holy friends, who are faithful, just, and true, and whose hearts fail not; and whose knees are confirmed and do not falter… I hope I shall see [my friends] again, that I may toil for them, and administer to their comfort also. They shall not want a friend while I live; my heart shall love those, and my hands shall toil for those, who love and toil for me, and shall ever be found faithful to my friends."

If only I could get them and Montana all rolled together. . .

Missing auntie manda already

2011-11-03T18:44:00.000-07:00

Last night, we went over to Amanda and Tim's to get both vehicles all lubed/brake-jobbed up before we take off on our crazy long drive, and took all the kids so that they could play together one last time.

Just before we left, Amanda asked Kylie if she could have a kiss. Kylie kissed her, and then let out a heavy sigh, and in a melancholy tone (while wearing her famous pouty face) she said, "I'm moving to Montana." Auntie Amanda comforted her by saying, "I know, sweetie, but I think next spring we're gonna come visit you." Immediately her face brightened up and she asked excitedly, "In Montana?!"

She has no idea what bounty awaits her in the form or aunts and uncles and cousins, but she's gonna miss her best friend "auntie Manda" anyway. I'm grateful my children are so well loved.

Saying goodbye

2011-11-02T22:05:00.000-07:00

Our plans have changed about four times in the last week or so, but we're finally set. Mom and Michael will be here sometime Saturday, and the kids and I will take off for Utah with them Sunday morning, arriving in Mission sometime Monday evening.

Today, one of my friends hosted a playdate so that we could spend some time with our wonderful mommy friends. I couldn't think too much about leaving this wonderful group of women or I'd just get sick, so I tried to focus on the fact that I'll be near my sisters again. As I gave hugs and said goodbye, I could tell I would be missed as much as I would miss them--it was a wonderfully miserable feeling. Every time the car turned as it was leaving the driveway, all the kids in it would yell "Bye Kylie!!" again. Finally, she said, "Mommy, they keep saying bye to me!" I told her, "I know, Kylie, that's because we're going to Montana and they're staying in California and we won't see them again for a long time. We're not sure when we'll see them again." Suddenly, her eyes got very big, and in a pathetically sad little voice she said, "But we will miss them!" I responded that we certainly would, and she burst into tears. "But Mommy we will miss them!!" Apparently, what moving meant hadn't sunk in for our littlest one til yesterday. It was a pretty sad moment.

But it all made me feel so grateful once again for having been in this particular place at this particular point in time. Sometimes the Lord helps something special to happen--and even if you know that's the case, the "something special" isn't always what you think it is. For a time, however brief, he brought all these families together, and in many respects we felt like a big family. We relied heavily on each other, and were intertwined the way enmeshed families are, sometimes seeing each other 6 or 7 days a week. We learned to see and cherish one another's strengths and be patient with each other's weaknesses. I think we all learned a little better how and why to see those around us as brothers and sisters, fellow children of a divine Father. We welcomed new family members together--both babies and converts--and helped each other to teach and nurture them while struggling with our own shortcomings. We've learned more Christlike love through the way we have loved and been loved by each other. What lesson could be more important than that?

The Lord gathers his people and he scatters his people. Both are difficult for different reasons, both have their blessings, as well, and I don't pretend to understand all his reasons for doing either. I'm simply grateful to have been a small part of this gathering, to better understand the line, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times". This Thanksgiving as I enjoy dinner with my whole, big, wonderful family, I will also think of my many wonderful friends in California, and truly be filled up with gratitude for the abundance with which the Lord has blessed me.

For the record. . .

2011-10-29T14:00:00.000-07:00

I've been having trouble not focusing on all the things I'll miss about California, like:

Disneyland
Monterey (and the fact that I never got to take the kids to the aquarium)
Sacramento (the train museum, Old Town, etc)
the smell of fresh oranges
the giant trees
the beach
In N Out
See's Candies
dual immersion schooling (such mixed feelings there)
all the orchards--almonds, olives, oranges, lemons, pomegranates, walnuts, pistachios, etc.
that first smell and sight of ocean driving over 41 or 168

that I decided to help myself make this adjustment, I have to remember all the things I definitely will NOT miss, like:

black widow
cockroaches
the dairy smell
fall that barely arrives at all, and usually not until November
the blasted heat
the winter fog
over-intrusive bureaucracy everywhere
pathetically failing school
sales tax
personal state income tax
ridiculously expensive vehicle registration fees
listening to people peel out of Fast Strip all hours of the day and night
politics (granted, this may be a short-term relief, since small towns can be like this anywhere, but I'm grateful for the break)

There are a lot of other things that could go on these lists, but its a start.

My sisters are amazing

2011-10-28T20:11:00.000-07:00

They really are some of the most generous, thoughtful people I've ever known. When I was a little girl, I looked up to them a lot. I'm glad to say that, in so many ways, I was right. :). Hopefully someday I will be able to repay everything they've done for me, and for my family. It's hard to leave here, but it's a lot easier when I know that these are the kind of people I'm going home to.

Be Still

2011-10-25T22:08:00.000-07:00

We were asked to speak this last Sunday, as what the Bishop referred to, somewhat hilariously, as a "parting shot". Following is the text of my talk.

When Brother Cregor asked us to speak, he extended the wonderful blessing and burden of choosing our own topics. We’ve been preparing to move, and I’ve had such conflicting emotions about this decision, and have had so much to get done and been reflecting so often on our time here in Lindsay, its been difficult to get my mind to slow down enough to focus on anything.

We moved here 5 ½ years ago, when Keilana was not quite 2 and Dylan was only 6 weeks old, and nearly all of the time that has passed for us here has been tremendously intense, in every possible way: physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. There’s been a lot of good, a lot of bad, a lot of fun and a lot of hard stuff, but just A LOT. So often I have found myself thinking, “When is this going to slow down? What am I supposed to be learning here?” Having my mind race and my spirit agitated so that I can’t focus has been a common challenge for me during the time that we lived here, as we faced many, usually unexpected, challenges.

As I thought about that, two experiences I had with different nephews came to mind. Many years ago, my brother and his very young wife were living in Fort Collins, Colorado, where he was stationed with the army. Both of them were living away from their families for the first time, when they welcomed their oldest son, Jeriah Daij, into the world. He was small, only 5.5 pounds, but healthy and beautiful. A day later, as they were checking out of the hospital to head home, their tiny baby began to seize violently in his mother’s arms. After rushing the baby across town to a private hospital where he could receive specialized care, his frightened young parents were told that he had spinal meningitis and that a baby as young as he was had almost no internal defenses developed to help fight the infection. It was highly unlikely that he would live, but if he did, he would probably be deaf, paralyzed, and mentally challenged, among a whole host of other maladies. This past summer, that baby turned 11. He is smart and healthy and strong—in fact, a few weeks before his 11^th birthday, he completed a grueling hike, with his dad, uncle and older cousins, that has been known to sometimes get the better of grown men. There is nothing today to indicate that he was ever sick.

As most of you know, we faced a tragedy in our family a few years ago. Seared into my memory is a warm, sunny Friday afternoon where in five minutes time the whole world seemed to turn sideways as my sister-in-law told me over the phone that Conner, her beautiful, sweet young toddler, has toppled into a small backyard pool and drowned and was in the hospital. Eleven hours after I received her phone call, I received a second one from my mother-in-law at the hospital telling me that Conner had slipped away.

I reflected on these incidents and thought, “I could spend my whole life asking, ‘Why?’ Why is Jeriah a happy, healthy 11-year-old, but we had to say good bye to Conner?” Both boys were given Priesthood blessings, were prayed for by large, loving families. I could spend my whole life asking, “What lesson are we supposed to learn here? What could we have done differently?”

Many individuals and families do torture themselves with such questions: “We had FHE, we said our prayers, we were diligent in our callings, so why have our children gone astray? I have been a good and faithful friend, who has tried hard to be kind and patient, why has my trust been broken? I have been a devoted and caring spouse, why has our family fallen apart? I have been a hard worker, diligent and wise in trying to provide adequately for my family, so why can’t I find work? And so often, the question that follows these is “What am I supposed to be learning?” In many respects, this is a very valid question to ask, but often we ask it as we look for that little treasure of knowledge that will magically release us from this or that trial, because now we’ve learned what we needed to learn and we can move on. While we should always be actively seeking to know what the Lord would have us learn, that simply isn’t how life works.

I’ve come to understand that often the lesson we need to learn is to simply be still and know that He is God—that he is over all, and he has his reasons. This doesn’t mean that we sit around and wait for the Lord to run our lives. Always there is much to be done, and we can and ought to be anxiously engaged, as the Lord has instructed. But our souls should be still. As a wonderful hymn says, “Be still, my soul, the Lord is on thy side/With patience bear your cross of grief or pain/ Leave to thy God to order and provide/In every change, he faithful will remain/Be still my soul/ Thy best, thy heavenly friend/ Thru thorny ways/leads to a joyful end”. Thru all the trials and troubles and busyness of life, we must learn to discipline our souls to be still, to be at peace, “In every change, he faithful will remain”. Everything in life is temporary. Mortal life itself is temporary, and often wildly unpredictable. He only is constant and unchanging. He never leaves us alone, and ultimately he is over all—we must learn to trust more completely and more readily in that, and so be at peace.

When the apostles were tossed about by the waves of the sea, they were afraid they would drown as the Lord slept. They went to their Master and asked, “Carest thou not that we perish?” The Lord was more mindful of their circumstances than they had realized, as he spoke those quiet, powerful words, “Peace, be still”—perhaps as much a loving rebuke to his apostles as to the powerful sea. Why should they fear when the Lord was with them? Yet, too often we do the same thing, finding ourselves rocked by the storms of life, we forget that we have the Lord as our companion, and don’t think to ask for his help until we turn to him in a panic and practically shout, “Why are you letting my drown?” We forget that if we exercise faith in him, he can calm any storm. He is always aware of the challenges we face and is ready to help us, if only we remember that he’s there and have the humility to seek him.

Yet we must also strive to have the kind of faith displayed by Meshach, Shadrach and Abednego as they faced King Nebuchadnezzar’s fiery furnace. They declared that they were not afraid because they knew that the Lord had the power to deliver them from the flames, “but if not”—if they perished in the furnace--they would remain faithful to the Lord. We too must trust in the Lord, that he has the power to deliver us from any fire, but that if he doesn’t, he has a wise purpose for letting us struggle, and we ultimately will come off conquerors through him that loved us. So much in life is beyond our control. It is not, however, beyond his control.

“In the world ye shall have tribulation,” he said, “but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.” Our sorrows, our pains and our troubles are temporary. Through the Atonement, he will make everything right in the end. Sometimes we get relief and see a little more of the big picture in this life, but sometimes we don’t. We have to remember that that’s OK, because we know that even the end of this life is not the end. The Atonement is infinite and eternal. The Plan of Salvation shows to us a Father above who is more patient, more merciful, and more loving than most people would ever dare to guess. He wants us to succeed. He wants us to become like Him. Its just that getting there is an awful lot of hard work, and in the mean time we can’t control the agency of others, and the Lord will certainly not usurp the agency of his other children for our convenience. We must trust in the Lord, and trust in the covenants we have made with him. He will honor all that he has promised us if we will but strive to be faithful to him.

Instead of asking “why?” we should more often ask, “what?” “What blessings has the Lord given me to help me weather this storm?” In my case, it has been true over and over again the last few years that one of the most valuable blessings the Lord has provided for me is marvelous friends. CS Lewis once wrote, “God, who foresaw your tribulation, has specially armed you to go through it, not without pain but without stain.” I believe that God knew the challenges we would face, and knew we would need help and so he armed us with faithful, loving friends. The Lord instructs us to “Let your light so shine before this people, that they may see your good works and glorify your father which is in heaven.” I am humbled by the extent to which so many in this ward have shone the light of Christ into my life.

Christ-like friends not only help us weather life’s storms, they help us to do so cheerfully and to be a better person for it. The Prophet Joseph Smith, who walked a very stormy path, often spoke of how he valued the love and support of his friends. He once wrote, ” “How good and glorious it has seemed unto me, to find pure and holy friends, who are faithful, just, and true, and whose hearts fail not; and whose knees are confirmed and do not falter, while they wait upon the Lord. . .They shall not want a friend while I live; my heart shall love those, and my hands shall toil for those, who love and toil for me, and shall ever be found faithful to my friends.”

I am so sad to leave, because I won’t have the opportunity to begin to repay so much of the Christ-like charity that has been extended to me and to my family. When we came here, I never imagined that it would be so hard to leave. Though five years is a small measure of time, the things that we have learned during our years here have had a huge influence on my eternal perspective and I am certain we have made more than a few friends who will have had an eternal impact on us.

The Lord commands us to be perfect. When I was a teenager, my father once told me that an alternate translation of the Hebrew word for “perfect” is “complete” or “whole”. I thought about that as I remembered my first night in Lindsay 5 ½ years ago. We stopped at Save Mart on the way home to grab something to eat because we were living in a tiny rental house out in the country and didn’t have a refrigerator yet and all our stuff was still in boxes and I didn’t know anyone and the whole place was new to me and I was sitting in the car in the rain listening to my baby cry and I thought, “What am I doing here? I don’t want to be here!” I was a tumult of emotions inside—at that moment, I lacked so very much, I was so terribly incomplete. But as I put my faith in the Lord, I quickly found that over and over again, usually through the actions of caring friends, I heard the Lord quietly whisper, “Peace, be still.” The Lord helped me move a little closer to being whole by providing friends who are strong where I am weak.

As so many in the world run to and fro in search of peace, blown about by every wind of doctrine and frantically trying to find some even ground on which stand, we can be still, be boldly immovable in the surety that the Lord Jesus Christ is our Savior, brother and friend, and never flees nor fails us. In the Doctrine and Covenants the Lord said, “Therefore, fear not little flock; let earth and hell combine against you, for if ye are built upon my rock, they cannot prevail. . .Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not.” The Lord is on our side, then why should we fear?

On the other hand

2011-10-24T17:59:00.000-07:00

My almost-three-year-old has been annoying for entirely different reasons. This morning I dozed off while nursing the baby (we had a late night last night) and when I woke up, I found her "making cocoa" with baby formula and the Magic Bullet. I'd probably be more annoyed about the expensive baby formula, except that my baby tends to go on hunger strikes when I'm not around, so we don't use much of it anyway.

This evening, I found Kylie in my bedroom with a spatula, whisk, salad tongs and a wooden spoon, huddled next to a giant smear of toothpaste (oh yeah, and the toothpaste tube) "making soup".

She's been cooking a lot lately, and its getting steadily more messy and destructive. Good thing its almost November: she can put her enthusiasm to good use helping her Yaya make some Thanksgiving pies. (Well, I mean, I could make some, too, but moving back in with my mom means I don't have to cook anymore, right? Right? Hhahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Ha. Just kidding).

No really, just kidding.

I'm going to have my husband kill me some trout and deer, and then I'll make some dry meat and fashion us some killer mountain-wear out of the skins. The trout skins, of course. We'll throw out all those useless deer hides.

Priorities

2011-10-24T17:50:00.000-07:00

All day long

I've been muttering under my breath

about how I don't have time

for my baby to decide

that she's not going to nap today,

or cry any time I'm not holding her

or sometimes even if I am.

I was really quite irritated about it.

So when she started throwing up,

I started feeling like a real schmuck.

Monologuin'

2011-10-24T11:59:00.000-07:00

So I was standing in the bathroom with Kylie while she did her thing, and the following monologue ensued, while a longish zip tie served as her prop.

"Mommy, my daddy died."

I shook my head with a confused look on my face.

"No, Mom, I'm pretending my dad died.

But he's going to come back to life.

[She holds the zip tie up, fashioned into a rough oval shape.]

I'm going to bring him back to life with this.

But Dylan is my dad.

Yeah, Dylan is the dad

and Keilana is the mom

and I am the son.

I am the good son.

But I am not a boy.

I am Michelle.

I am going to be a turtle.

But I'm not a turtle,

I'm just Michelle,

I'm the daughter.

Keira, you are the boy, you are going to be the son

you can't be a turtle,

you are too big to be a turtle.

Mom, I'm going to walk to my house,

yeah, I'm going to walk to the house because I'm the son.

Ok, Mommy, lets go walk to your house."

Up she jumped and scampered off in her pigeon-toed, drunken sailor run.

She really doesn't need anyone to have a conversation with, she just sort of talks and talks and talks regardless of whether or not anyone actually responds.

Busy

2011-10-20T13:25:00.000-07:00

We're making good progress, but packing a whole house is a lot of work. The kids are being pretty good, but they've been mostly locked up inside with orders to "Don't touch that!" "Get out of that room!", etc. I didn't realize that perhaps we'd been a bit too occupied with all these decidedly non-fun tasks until yesterday afternoon. I had busted up an old piece of junk dresser into small pieces to haul to the dumpster, and we let each of the kids carry a small chunk out as we carried the bulk of it, and as we were walking back to the house, Dylan happily exclaimed, "We went together as a family!"

You know life's gotten a bit funky when walking trash to the dumpster together is the extent of your family activities.

Starting Over

2011-10-19T10:33:00.000-07:00

We're headed to Montana in about two weeks. I don't know where we'll end up in the long run, but I'm almost positive it won't be California.

I have such terribly conflicting emotions about all this. Obviously, I'm excited. I love western Montana and I'm grateful that we'll be able to be close to all of my family, at least for a time. I'll get to let my kid regularly go wild outside, and we'll go sledding and cut our own Christmas tree and have Sunday dinners with the family. Hopefully this summer we'll go hiking and go to powwow and Good Ol' Days. I am bursting with excitement over that.

And I'm tremendously sad. The other night, just after we put the kids to bed, we heard a strange noise, so Doug walked into their room and asked Keilana what it was. She got very quiet and was sort of turned away from him, so he said, "Keilana, I'm talking to you, so talk to me. What was that?" She turned to face him and said, in a sad, shaky little voice, "I'm excited to go to Montana and see Yaya and my cousins, I'm just going to miss my friends." Doug assured it that it was OK to be sad, because we were really going to miss our friends, too. On Sunday, I kept thinking there must be some way to take our ward with us. The kids are all having a bit of a hard time, as the house gets emptier and moving day gets closer. Their whole lives are about to change completely.

So are mine and Doug's. I'll have to figure out how to fit our family into the already established routines and relationships of the extended family. It will probably affect the dynamics of my kids' relationships with each other, as they are so used to spending so much time with just each other, just the three of them. We have to develop whole new routines and habits. We'll be so very, very far away from Mimi and Papa. We'll probably miss them most of all. The four of us have grown quite close over the course of the last five years, and even with all the wonderful family we'll have up in Montana, it will certainly feel like there's a hole in our hearts at having them so far away. I wish that our families lived a little closer so that my kids (and I) could spend a lot of time with both sets of grandparents.

If I think about it too long, I just get sick. So instead, I'm trying to focus on all the work I have to get done (anyone who wants to help is more than welcome to come pack and paint), and on all the good stuff: best friends who are cousins, a white Christmas, that whole hazy line between backyard and wilderness thing, spending a lot of time with my mom, soaking up time with my grandma.

In the mean time, I'm trying not to think too much about how much I'll miss the Meiks, Ashcrafts, Hunters and Cregors, or how much we'll miss our family here, or about not being able to take a weekend trip to Monterey or Disneyland or Sacramento. Having a lot of people in your life to love is wonderful, but it also makes some decisions a lot harder,

Conundrum

2011-10-13T23:58:00.000-07:00

People don't realize that they sometimes love me for the things I don't say,

until I don't not say them.

Making Plans

2011-10-12T10:50:00.000-07:00

Doug is waiting to hear on a job he applied for in Visalia. He should know by the end of the week whether or not he gets an interview, but at this point the statistics aren't in his favor. As of last night, there were 44 applicants for the position, many with way more experience.

So, if it doesn't come through, we're headed to Montana. In many ways, headed home, at least for me. As we've talked about leaving and tried to help the kids understand what that means, it finally really sank in for me that this is very much home for my children. Keilana is the only one who has spent any time anywhere else, and at an age where she was far too young to remember. Lindsay is the only home they've known. And its been a good home for them. Keilana has wonderful friends, including two other little redheads she pals around with, Dylan will miss Grant and Lulu terribly, and I will miss seeing Kylie light up when she knows she's getting a chance to see Ava and Ronnie. My 2-year-old has real friends, for Pete's sake.

Lindsay has been good to Doug and I, too. We stayed up til almost four last night talking about everything we need to get done in the next three weeks (we're leaving November 1st), and everything we're leaving behind. Doug and I both feel like we struggle to make friends, for various reasons, or at least to feel close to people, and we have such a solid, wonderful group of loving, understanding, supportive friends here. People we trust, are at ease with, and enjoy being around. People who we feel will miss us as much as we'll miss them. That makes me terribly sad--there are so many people we hate to leave.

But I'm also tired. Our experience in Lindsay has been fun and exciting and enriching, but its also been exhausting and trying and overwhelming. I'm ready to start fresh. I'm tired of being cumbered, at times, by other people's baggage, or having my reputation tarnished by the foolish decisions of others. I'm tired of living right in the middle of everything, surrounded by people and pavement. I'm tired of all that nonsense, and maybe being broke and turning to my parents for help for a while is the Lord's way of providing that fresh start for us, challenging as it will be. Maybe things here didn't go the way we'd hoped in the end, but I will not regret having come here and been a part of all this--I will certainly never regret knowing and spending time with the people its brought into our lives. I will always be tremendously grateful for the opportunity to be a little piece of some amazing things, and for all the people that have shaped us during our time here. And I still have hope that, though our part in this story is over for now, it will still work out for the best in the long run--that all things we've worked for, invested in, will not be in vain. There is still time for things to go right.

In the mean time, I'm trying not to focus on being completely broke, with no solid job prospects of any kind, living in two bedrooms with four kids and all the packing and cleaning and selling and organizing we have to do in the next few weeks. I'm focusing on family Christmas tree trips to the Stump Ranch and a snowy Christmas and so many cousins to play with and spending a lot of time with my grandma and my sisters and everybody else--all 30 of them:) I'm looking forward to helping my children know a little better a place that was such a magical part of my childhood. Wish us luck.

Silver Lining

2011-10-06T12:01:00.001-07:00

Chuck didn't have any work for Doug today, and its still chilly and breezy outside (and we leave the windows open this time of year). It was perfect weather for snuggling cozily under a comforter in a warm, soft bed. And since the other kids were off to school, Kylie got her daddy all to herself.

Even unemployment has its advantages.

Scatter Sunshine

2011-10-05T21:46:00.000-07:00

The other day, I was watching Keilana scooter home from school in her Roxy jeans, with Kylie running after her in her cute little Gymboree skirt and bright yellow Doc Martens, I thought to myself, "Their hand-me-downs are so much cooler than mine were." Then, when I was walking the kids to the car today, all of them dressed so cute in nice clothing, I realized that, head-to-toe on all four kids, I had only purchased Keira's pants and Keilana's shoes. That's it. All the rest of the clothing came to us from cousins and friends. What a wonderful blessing.

Today a friend came over to visit and see how we're doing. Thanks to her sneaky thoughtfulness, we often have so much food that its hard fitting it all in our cupboards--not a challenge that a family generally faces while unemployed.

Our life is absolutely full of people like that. You wouldn't believe how often I get a random email, text message or Facebook comment from someone who loves us and is just checking in to see how we're doing and if they can help at all. A few weeks ago, some friends took us out on a double date, their treat, just to enjoy our company and give us a break. For my birthday, a friend declared he was sending us out on a date, and showed up at the house to babysit and gave us some cash to go have some fun.

Yesterday, I was feeling terribly homesick. My dad's birthday was this past weekend, and so all my siblings got together with all their kids at my parents' house to make cider with my grandma's cider press, from all the apples in my parents' orchards. I haven't been home in 15 months (no one but my mom has even met Keira), and fall is my favorite season in Montana. One of the things that I struggle with in my more homesick moments is feeling forgotten. I look at all these pictures of piles of grandkids and aunts and uncles and part of me thinks, "How could it ever possibly feel as though anyone is missing?" I'm the only one not there, and I've been gone my entire adult life, so I've never really been a part of the life they have now, so I feel like it'd be easy to just sort of forget me and my family. I know better, but that's how I feel when I get bummed about being so far away. So, just when I was feeling disconnected and forgotten, a card showed up in my mailbox from my sweet big sister. Just wanted to let me know that we're loved and missed and that they're thinking about us and hope things turn around soon so that we can come home. That would've been enough to make my entire month, but on top of that she included a generous gift.

All at once, I felt ridiculous for feeling so sorry for myself. The only reason I feel so sad is because I have a marvelous family that is worth missing. And I have family here that loves me, too. So this afternoon, we finally ran some errands this afternoon that we've been putting off, and since we were in Visalia, we decided to stop in and visit Grandpa Barnes. It was strange not having Grandma there with him, but it was a nice visit. Kylie told him that she was gonna come pick his oranges for her birthday and have birthday cake, and he seemed to get a kick out of that idea.

Then we decided to stop in and see Mimi and Papa, too, and spent a couple of hours visiting with them. I love seeing my kids enjoy time with their grandparents and aunts and uncles.

I don't know what life has in store for us in the next few months and years, only that changes and adjustments will probably be demanded of us. I am grateful that one thing remains certain: wherever we go, near or far, there will be plenty of people who happily brighten the way for us. We are so well-loved by so many, and I'm grateful to be reminded of that so frequently.

I almost died laughing

2011-10-04T19:26:00.000-07:00

Easy Peasy Keira

2011-09-27T20:49:00.000-07:00

I decided I was actually gonna sleep train this one, do the Ferber thing, put her down, let her cry, comfort without picking up, let her cry again, etc (and doing it at the right age, instead of waiting til the kid is 10 or 12 months and just letting them cry it out). So last night, I nursed her and then picked her up and put her in the playpen. She cried (but didn't scream) for about two or three minutes after I left the room, and then was quiet. When I went into check on her 10 minutes later, she was upset, so I rubbed her back and sang her a song, and then walked out of the room. She stopped crying as soon as I shut the door, and when I checked on her 15 minutes later she was asleep.

Tonight, I did the same: nursed her, sang her a song and then put her in the playpen. She cried until I shut the door on my way out. I never heard another peep out of her, and when I checked on her 15 minutes later, she was sound asleep.

She's so very, very happy, always full of smiles. She loves to squeal at her siblings. The above picture is what we call her "happy screech": she gets in this mode where she just starts emitting this high-pitched squealy shriek to make sure everybody knows how glad she is to be alive. If we could just convince her that a bottle of formula is not an insult to either her taste or intelligence, she'd be just about perfect.

Just Keep Moving

2011-09-27T10:39:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, we don't just receive an answer. Sometimes, we get beat over the head with it.

Last week had been something of a mini-disaster for me, mentally and emotionally. The weekend had been terrible, and the week's news was awful and discouraging and disappointing (someday I will learn to fight the temptation to read the local paper). I was having sort of a "run away and hide" time. I just kept looking at all the things I wasn't getting done, all the ways I was failing to be the sort of person I should be.

I went to Enrichment Thursday night, and it was all about remembering that there's a person inside the mom/wife/employee/friend who needs to be growing and learning and improving, and gave us some tools to do that in a pro-active way. I made detailed, reasonable and scheduled to-do lists and have been getting so much done.

Saturday, I went to the General RS Broadcast, and President Uchtdorf's talk hit on so many things I didn't even know that I needed to hear. Most importantly (for me, at this moment, at least) he said, "Forget not to be patient with yourself. God is fully aware that you and I are not perfect. Let me add that God is also fully aware that the people that you think are perfect are not." He pointed out that we spend a great deal of time and energy comparing ourselves to others, often comparing our weaknesses to their strengths.

I have wonderful, amazing friends. I guarantee you'd be jealous (well, maybe you wouldn't, because you're better about such things than I am, but you'd love them), because they are incredible people, fantastic friends. I watch them deal so graciously with their challenges in life, and deal at least diplomatically, if not downright kindly, with people who have been unkind to them, and I feel like I'm just doing lousy for feeling angry or impatient, that I'm never as patient or compassionate or kind as I ought to be. Suddenly, as Elder Uchtdorf spoke, it occurred to me that several of my closest friends are coming up on 40 in the next year or two. They probably are better at those things than I am, but they've also had more than a decade more practice and learning than I have. As long as I'm still trying and moving forward, I ought to be more patient with myself. I'm not even 30 yet, there is likely still lots of time to become the person I want to be.

As President Uchtdorf continued, I realized that I have my strengths, as well. The next thing he said was, "Forget not to be happy now." He talked about how in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate factory, people got so obsessed looking for that golden ticket, that they completely forgot the joy they once got from a simple candy bar--only the big prize will do. So many people wait for that "golden ticket", whatever it may be in their mind, instead of enjoying the blessings they have right now. When he said that, I remembered that I am good at that. I had a rough week, but generally one of my strengths in life is that I can find joy and happiness in the little day to day moments. I am constantly amazed at the many wonderful little blessings scattered throughout each day. My life is filled with little tender mercies, and I know that. I enjoy the little things in life, and that is a big blessing not just to me, but also to my family.

What helped the most in putting me back on an even keel was an enlightening conversation I had with a friend on Friday. She passed along some information that helped me step back and look at the big picture a bit differently. I had a few things she said in mind while I was listening to Elder Uchtdorf's talk and suddenly a memory popped into my mind. Years ago, I was attempting to comfort a friend who had been hurt by a loved one's actions, and she said, "I don't know how I supposed to feel. . .am I the victim here?" And my response to her was something along these lines: "Well, that's one of the hardest things about addiction [addiction here defined as any repetitive, habitual, destructive pattern of behavior we rely on]. He's the victim. You're collateral damage--you definitely got hurt, but you're not the one that has to break this pattern. You can pick yourself up and dust yourself off. He is the biggest victim of his own behavior; he's probably going to need a lot of help getting back on his feet."

I realized it was high time I followed my own counsel. My family got hurt, my friends got hurt and I don't respond in a very Christlike manner to that, but I had forgotten (or in this case, just didn't realize) just how hurt some of the people I was directing my anger at were. Far more hurt than I am. I just needed to be reminded that compassion is the quickest way to quell anger. Because one other strength I have is that when I can see that someone is hurting, every instinct in me pushes me to offer comfort. I innately have this sort of "must make it better" response when someone is hurting--I have to fix it, I have to love it away. But I had let frustration and distance blind me to the pain that was there. I needed someone to show it to me, so that compassion could take root and push the anger out of my heart.

I was a bit frustrated with myself for taking so long (relatively) to finally reach that point, and then my sister (who is trying to get back into a running routine) posted a little sign today that said, "Whether it is a 14 minute mile or a 7 minute mile, it is still a mile". I needed that. The Lord knows I'm not perfect, and he doesn't expect me to run faster than I have strength. He just asks that I keep moving forward. And I trust that, even if no one else notices, he sees my little victories and cherishes them just as I silently cheer when I see my own children win their little battles.

Makin' wishes

2011-09-15T20:12:00.000-07:00

Honesty

2011-09-13T16:00:00.000-07:00

So I'm standing at the counter peeling potatoes, and Kylie is pretending to "cook", playing with the lid to my sauce pot. Before I know it, she's broken the handle off the lid.

"Shnikee!" says I.

Keilana and Dylan immediately start to berate her for this travesty, so I shush them a bit and say, "Chill guys, she didn't mean to."

At that point, Kylie started to cry loudly, and I asked why.

Drooping her shoulders, barely understandable through sobs, she told me, "I did it on purpose!!"

A well-rounded education. . .

2011-09-07T18:48:00.000-07:00

Apparently a couple of days ago, during a test, Keilana's teacher urged the kids, "Arriba! Arriba! Arriba!" At which point, Keilana giggled and asked her teacher (in Spanish, of course) if she'd ever seen The Three Amigos. I'm sure her teacher appreciates all the cultural education we're doing with her at home.

If we have to move and end up somewhere whiter, I can just hear Keilana coming home from her caucasian-heavy school and asking, "Are gringos falling from the sky?"

Not Exactly Mozart

2011-09-07T13:27:00.000-07:00

So on the way to pick up Dylan from school this afternoon, I hear Kylie start singing from the back seat:

"Poopie in the potty

Poopie in my pants

Sit in the corner

Poo-pee, poo-pee, poo-pee

poo-pee, poo-pee, poo-pee

Pee in the toilet,

pee in the toilet

not in the corner

poo-pee, poo-pee, poo-pee

ttthhhhheeeee eeeeennnnnnndd!"

She then muttered, barely audibly, to herself, "I poop in the toilet so I don't sit in the corner."

Then she piped up a bit louder and said, "Mommy, do you like my poopee song? I made it up."

This is sort of par for the course with this one. Until school started, I think I forgot that she was only 2. She plays so well with the five and seven year olds, and mostly keeps up with them, so I forgot how remarkable her language skills were until the older two were gone all day, and all the sudden there's this tiny little person speaking to me in complete, correct paragraphs with $3 words. She's kind of hilarious.

Stir Crazy!

2011-08-29T11:55:00.000-07:00

Ok, so here's the thing: last October, we took the kids to Apple Hill, up near Placerville. We picked some apples, bought a couple of boxes (and made lots of apple chips, apple pies and apple sauce), enjoyed some home-baked goodies, and just generally had a fantastic weekend. That was nearly a year ago. Since then:

In January, we took a day trip over to Cal Poly to look into finishing Doug's Master's Degree. In June, we took the kids up to the park one last time before our passes expired and hiked Moro Rock and saw the General Sherman tree. That same week, we took a day trip to Pismo Beach, with a stop at Cal Poly on the way to drop off some papers for Doug's last class. For my birthday, we got to go to Visalia and have some burgers and do a little paint-your-own-pottery for a few hours with no children. Last month, Doug and I took a day trip to Inverness with just the baby. Oh, and this spring we went to a movie and went to the temple a couple of times. And that's it. In a year, that's all the time I've spent out of Lindsay or away from my children. And that wouldn't be so bad, except it was this year, and with McDermont right across the street, and having to pass City Hall every time I go to or from the kids' school and having a tense reaction to a couple members of the ward I see every week, I could've used a bit more relaxing.

But we don't have a plan yet, so I must change my attitude. For the most part, through all this nonsense, I've been quite calm and quite happy. A few things all came to a head this week, and I must admit I was a class A grump. That must change, because its not fair to my family--being grumpy doesn't get us anywhere, but it does make everyone more grumpy. So I'm saying all this to preface this statement: Don't be surprised if my blog posts start turning into merely lists of things I'm grateful for or funny things that happened during the week. Because there are a lot of good things happening in my life, and my husband and kids deserve a happy wife and momma to take care of them, so I need to focus more consciously on those good things.

On a side note, this morning as I was listening to Kylie sing to herself, I was remembering how at this age Keilana regularly sang I Am a Child of God and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam. Kylie's regular repertoire? Bust a Move by Young MC and We're Not Gonna Take It by Twisted Sister. My parenting might be getting worse with each child.

Now what?

2011-08-24T20:37:00.000-07:00

We're doing OK. Disappointed because the job we wanted, the one that would've been almost perfect, didn't come through. But doing OK.

Tired, though. This year has been a doozy. A doozy that followed four whoppers. We're very quickly running out of time (read: money) and still have no idea where to find our footing. That can be very exhausting. Add to that that I almost always go to bed way later than I should, wake up frequently at night, and now I have some kind of nasty bug or something that is completely and utterly zapping my energy and making my whole body hurt. Especially my throat.

A couple of weeks ago, my dad posted the following in response to one of Doug's posts on Facebook:

What I learned going through similar experiences: 1. Trying to understand what God wants from you is more important than trying to get what you think you want 2. As long as the family is together, the rest is little stuff 3. The Red Sea does part, but not until the last possible moment

That's almost exactly how I've been feeling. I know something will work out, though its getting rather difficult to see what or how. And we have each other and our happy little troop of kiddos. Beyond that, life is mostly details.

So we're tired. Feeling a bit befuddled, but we're happy. And if there is one thing we've never felt in all this, its alone. Thank you for your love. We have felt it and been sustained by it more than you'll probably ever know.

happy sigh

2011-08-23T09:05:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the smallest things

take up the most room in your heart

Responsibility, Forgiveness, Pride

2011-08-18T13:55:00.000-07:00

Its funny how there are times in life when so many different things suddenly come to a head at once--sometimes you see it coming, sometimes you don't. But occasionally, all the little things that have been bubbling up around you, perhaps for years, all boil over at once.

It can be kind of exhausting.

A lot of recent events, and the various ways in which people have responded to them, have caused me to think a lot about personal responsibility, pride, and forgiveness.

I am convinced that much more of human pain is caused by myopia--I want what I want and it hasn't really occurred to me how that might affect you (or I'm in denial about how that might affect you)--than by outright malice. But something I heard several months ago at a meeting has really stuck with me: "Whether you shove me off of a 10-story building, or accidentally bump me off a 10-story building, the results for me are the same." Whether we intend to or not, sometimes through our selfishness or shortsightedness or weakness, we hurt other people and we have to take responsibility for that.

And when we fail to take responsibility for those actions, directly and personally, it is not unforgiving or mean-spirited of the injured party to establish some healthy boundaries. If we have caused them pain or difficulty and refuse to directly acknowledge that, much less make any efforts to change the behavior that caused the problem, it would be foolish of the individual that we wronged to allow us such closeness to them again. Should they continually regard us with anger, or view cynically any sincere attempts on our part to change, then they are guilty of being unforgiving. But so long as they retain a sincere hope that we can change, and embrace genuine efforts to do so, they are entitled to a bit of distance--once broken, trust must be earned back.

Personally, I've never understood why it so difficult to simply say to another person, "I was wrong, I'm sorry. And I'll try to be better." It can be embarrassing, and it can be painful, but life is so much harder and lonelier when we refuse to do the right thing. I've seen people be unwilling to admit that they had done wrong because it was just too big--the weight of their transgression was so overwhelming that they felt if they accepted the responsibility in that overt way, it would just crush them. How ironic that its just the opposite, in reality.

The Savior offers us the Atonement. We can't fix it on our own. Sometimes it is too big to lug around all our own, and it will slowly crush us if not addressed. Some mistakes are just too big to mend for ourselves. But he says that we bring to him a "broken heart and a contrite spirit" and asks that we "take [his] yoke upon us" for his yoke is easy, and "[his] burden is light".

A broken heart is pretty painful and terrible. Broken hearts are almost always the result of sin--our own, or others, but usually a combination of both. Sacrificing that pride, letting go of it and submitting our will to another, is often difficult and painful--at first. It is very natural to want to do things our own way, and we loathe relinquishing that. But if we bring with that broken heart a contrite spirit--a genuine desire to do and be better, by obeying his will--something rather marvelous begins to happen: our will changes. Less and less do we have to submit our will to His, because more and more our will becomes the same as His. We find greater joy, and consequently grow a greater trust for the Lord, and our will becomes simply a desire to enact his will. The Lord, as any loving parent, wants us to be happy. Sometimes he asks us to do difficult things, but he never asks us to do things that will make us miserable. I'm sure it pains him to see his children suffering and miserable--that's exactly why he worked the Atonement.

When we are willing to turn to the Atonment, our burden becomes light because the Savior takes upon himself all those foolish, selfish or wrong-headed things we do. We place that burden on his back, and we no longer have to lug around a broken heart. Pain and guilt are very heavy burdens to carry. When we come to him, and in turn to others we may have wronged and hurt, and humbly acknowledge that we have gone astray, and sincerely try to do better, he carries that burden for us.

That seems like such a simple thing, "a broken heart and a contrite spirit". However, letting go of our pride, and having that initial confrontation with ourselves before the Lord and those we've hurt, where we have to stare straight into that bruised and broken heart and feel that godly sorrow, seems so difficult that many people avoid it, trading it instead for a life of heavy, ever-growing burdens. So often, we insist on doing things "my way", refusing to submit our will, and then, in a strange twist, we often blame the Lord for our difficulties. We become bitter that he seems to be punishing us, when, in fact, he isn't punishing us at all. We are simply living out the natural consequences of foolish mortal choices. Our perspective is so limited by worldly distractions that, even with the best of intentions, it is difficult (if not impossible) to make the wisest possible choice without the Lord's guidance. But we must seek that guidance; he will not usurp our agency.

I've seen people sacrifice jobs, friends, even families and marriages, anything but their pride. And I don't understand it. Oh sure, I understand making a spouse or a child or a friend or myself miserable for a day or two because I didn't want to admit that I was wrong, or simply didn't realize that I was wrong. But I don't understand it as a manner of living--I don't understand how someone spends day after day angry and lonely and miserable, when the key to joy is right there. Why carry that burden when there is someone who has willingly offered to do it for you?

I've reflected a fair amount lately on the life of the apostle Paul. There was no worse tormentor of the early Church, but when the Lord appeared and rebuked him, there was no hesitation, no attempt at justification or obfuscation. He responded, simply and sincerely, "lord, what wilt thou have me do?" And when the Lord told him, he went and did without hesitation, and did so for the rest of his life. His was not a life most would generally view as "easy", and yet I'm sure that for all the tumult around him and the challenges he faced, Paul was at peace, that he felt, more often than not, that his burden was light. I'm sure that he had joy. When he realized that he was wrong, he made no excuses, and he didn't hide from it. In the face of his sins, he humbly changed his entire life, before both his former allies and his former enemies, by placing his sins, transgressions and hurts on the Lord's shoulders, and then spent the rest of his life zealously teaching others how to do the same.

In that, there is joy.

Firsts

2011-08-16T12:58:00.001-07:00

So I've been a bit of a slacker lately, both in taking pictures and uploading them (though admittedly its been worse in the uploading them department), so iPhone shots will have to do today.

The kids had their first day of school for the year on Thursday. Keilana is in second grade, and she was super excited. Her teacher is Mrs. Spradlin, and she was excited that some of her friends that she hasn't been in the same class with since Kindergarten (and that was like forever ago now) are in her class this year. She told me that she had a great first day and that she had lots of fun with her teacher. She's turned into quite a confident and self-assured little girl, and it was fun to see her happily bounce right into class and immediately find her place, easily understanding and quickly complying with her teacher's instructions to her in Spanish.

Dylan is starting Kindergarten and dual immersion, so I was excited to see how he'd respond to the new experience. When we got to his classroom (and found out that he has the same Kindergarten teacher that Keilana did-yay! I love her), Mrs. Samaniego started speaking to him. Entirely in Spanish. All of the sudden he got small, and then turned his body into me. This is such a natural thing for most children, but I honestly can't think of any time I've ever seen him do it. He is either actively, loudly, fighting and kicking against me terrified or unwaveringly confident--I've never seen much of anything in between. When his teacher asked him, "Como te llamas?" I said, "Dylan, that means 'what is your name?' Tell her your name." He turned a little and said, "Dylan." She showed him to his little name card and explained (with motions that made it clear to him what she expected) that he needed to sit down with a piece of paper and write his name. This he knows how to do, and on his way to the table he spotted a couple of familiar faces from preschool and any first day/new language nerves were forgotten entirely, as he started chatting and laughing while writing his name.

When I got there to pick them up, Keilana told me excitedly what her reading level in Spanish was and that she got a sticker for doing the best in math that day. Dylan strutted over to me and when I asked how his first day went he responded, "Great!" I asked if he had any English class yet or just Spanish and he said, "I just did Spanish today. I learned lots of Spanish today. To say 'turtle', its 'tortuga'. And I learned the Spanish word for 'yo-yo': [carefully shortening and accenting those 'o's] 'yo-yo'."

They're only three days in, but they both seem to be enjoying themselves. Yesterday when I picked them up, Keilana told me that she stayed on the little kid playground to play with Dylan before school started. He smiled and said, "Yep, we had fun!" I'm glad they enjoy each other's company.

In other firsts, Keira had solid food today for the first time. I've given her a little bit of potato or couscous or banana off my finger before, but she's so very interested in food, I thought it was probably about time I sat down and tried to really feed her. I just threw a can of peas in the Magic Bullet for our first go-round, and it was pretty entertaining to see her trying to figure it out.
Peas are a strong flavor, and even pureed with water, they don't go down like milk does.
Trying to figure out how to swallow, and use her tongue to help her get the food down, instead of pushing it back out.

All in all, she enjoyed the experience and the flavor (we even let Kylie spoon a few bites into her mouth for her. I can't believe she's going to be five months old tomorrow. Where does the time go? It really doesn't seem like it was that long ago that I was spooning sweet potatoes into Keilana's cheeky little self on the floor of our furniture-less apartment in SLO. And now she's four feet tall and argues with me about what to wear to school!

All the little pieces

2011-08-02T20:46:00.001-07:00

I'm grateful for all the people who have influenced my life and shaped me. . .

Annie Talbot Kent, my mom's grandmother

Meil, Georgia, Nathan, and Lettie Pierce (Mom's parents and paternal grandparents)

Grandapa Nate Pierce, mom's dad

. . .even if I never knew them here.

Came across this today.. .

2011-07-22T13:46:00.000-07:00

Isn't it amazing

2011-07-22T13:43:00.001-07:00

how this just makes life better?

Priorities

2011-07-14T19:43:00.000-07:00

Tonight at bedtime, Dylan said the family prayer. It went a little something like this:

"Dear Heavenly Father,

we thank thee for this day

and for the food we eat,

for dinner and for lunch

and for breakfast this morning

and please help that Dad will find a job

so we can keep Netflix on the iPad

so we can watch movies

'cause we like that.

Movies like Tinkerbell and the Great Fairy Rescue,

that's Keilana's favorite

and I like Thomas

and Blue's Clues,

and we want to watch those.

And thank you for our friends.

In the name of Jesus Christ

amen."

Also, last week, after spending some time "oooh"ing and "ahhh"ing over Keira's dimples, he smiled broadly and asked, "Mom, can you see both my dumplings?!" I laughed and told him I could sure see both his dimples and asked him to please, please, never ask anyone again if they could see his dumplings.

Learning Curve

2011-07-08T12:54:00.000-07:00

I had a hard first few weeks after Keilana was born. She was induced a little over a week past her due date, and it was slow: about 36 hours or so. I wasn't in painful labor that whole time, but I was having contractions and all that, so by the time I got to the hard part I was already worn out. And the hard part was really hard--the induction was done almost entirely with pitocin, lots and lots of pitocin, and the contractions were excruciating and intense. In my memories, the pain I'd already been in for an hour when I asked for an epidural was as awful as my last half hour of labor when I had Keira. Then I tore badly delivering her and lost a lot of blood. Between exhaustion and blood loss, my body was totally wiped out. And Keilana was as busy right from the start as she is now--she never slept for more than 15 or 20 minutes, and even then usually only if I held her the whole time. Add to that that she had trouble latching on to nurse, and so she was screaming a lot of the time because she was hungry, which just made trying to nurse her harder. I was in Hawaii, and since Keilana was late, my mom had to go home the day we got home from the hospital, so I had no help, really. Doug was in the middle of finals and his senior project, and I was trying to get our apartment packed up and cleaned because we were moving off island. It was a long few weeks and I was so, so tired. More tired than I have ever been in my life, before or since.

In the middle of all that, I was talking to my mom on the phone one day, telling her about my screaming baby and how I was losing weight pretty quickly because I'd think I'd eaten lunch, only to find a practically untouched sandwich on the counter a few hours later, etc. and she laughed (lovingly, not derisively) and said, "Oh Becky, it gets so much worse." That may not sound like the most comforting thing a mother could say at that moment, but it made me laugh and it made me remember just how temporary the problems I was dealing with were: one way or another, my baby would get fed; sooner or later I would get some sleep; and, even if it took a bit longer because of the lack of rest, my body would eventually heal. In the mean time, I now had a beautiful baby to call my own, and suddenly I was able to focus on that, and prepare myself for the much bigger challenges that would lay ahead because of that fact.

After that, my mom told me about a similar conversation she had had many years earlier with her own mother. Frustrated and tired and crying shortly after the birth of her first baby, she turned to her mom for help and advice, and her mom said, "This isn't the last time this baby will make you cry." When Mom told me that story she added, "And that's not a bad thing."

Parenting is hard. Its popularity in modern culture is decreasing because of selfishness. Feminism effectively sold the lie of motherhood being a soul-destroying trap, because they mixed it with the truth that it requires a great deal of sacrifice, time, and putting other peoples' needs or desires before your own. It requires learning "on the job". Its almost guaranteed that you will make hundreds if not thousands of mistakes, big and small, and that no matter how hard you try, your kid will probably end up hurting the both of you occasionally while making mistakes of his own. And even in the times you "take breaks", you're never free of it. Yet I don't personally know a single parent who, in knowing all that, would trade it for anything in the world, or rewind to a point in life where they didn't have kids. Because even though there's nothing harder, there is really nothing that gives more joy than parenting, something that only parents can truly grasp. It gets harder. And that's OK. Its worth every minute. Focus on the joy.

I've been trying to remind myself that lately about other challenges. There are many other things that are expected of us that, like parenting, are difficult, scary, uncertain. The Lord does prepare a way for us to accomplish good things; we still have to walk that path with our own two feet, however. Sometimes I think we make the mistake of believing that if we're doing what we should, that path will be smooth and easy, and when its not we want to quit. When I start getting to that point, I think of my kids. There is little about parenting that is easy, but I trust that the rewards are greater than the challenges, and that in the eternal realm, things will work out. If I focus on the demands, the challenges, the setbacks, I feel discouraged and exhausted. When I focus on the little moments of joy and the promises of even greater joys to come, I feel patient and happy and invigorated.

As these thoughts were rolling around in my head, I came across this paragraph in a talk by President Uchtdorf:

"Too often we fail to experience the bliss that comes from daily, practical service. At times assignments can feel like burdens. Brethren (and Sisters) let us not pass through life immersed in the three W's: Wearied, worrying, and whining. We live beneath our privileges when we allow worldly anchors to keep us away from the abundant joy that comes from faithful and dedicated service, especially within the walls of our own homes. We live beneath our privileges when we fail to partake of the feast of happiness, peace, and joy that God grants so bountifully to faithful servants."

The last few weeks, I keep occasionally reaching this point where I almost freak out. I have no idea what the next step is and realize it could possibly mean huge, major changes for us and I just don't feel I have any sense of what's going to happen. I think about all the things that have happened the last year, and everything I should be doing and I get overwhelmed and am tempted to just quit. Then I remember the way I parent--a lot of the things I do in parenting have no immediate effects and no absolute promise of a long-term payoff, but I do them because of my faith in what the Lord can do through me if I'm consistent in them, and I'm a more joyful parent in the mean time. Being diligent in all my other duties right now and living by faith does not guarantee that we'll find a wonderfully lucrative job or get to live where we think we want to or that all the challenges in our road will magically melt away. The promise is that we will have joy. Despite all the stress, that promise has been fulfilled so often in our home lately that I find is rather embarrassing that I keep momentarily losing sight of it.

Be of good cheer. Men are that they might have joy. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

Keira Bell

2011-07-07T13:34:00.001-07:00

She's very social--she generally gets excited when there are people around, throwing her little fists around and kicking happily. She smiles at everybody and is a total chatterbox. She really figured out how to use her voice a few weeks ago, and she "talks" nearly constantly now. She LOVES when people laugh. Her brother and sisters are her favorite entertainment so far-Dylan, with all his bouncy insanity, seems to have the most success in getting her to laugh. We're having fun getting to know her.

Flowrider

2011-07-05T21:46:00.000-07:00

Lucky

2011-06-29T17:46:00.000-07:00

So I have these four rather amazing kids. They drive me batty occasionally (sometimes it seems that families exist primarily to teach us patience), but they're happy and well-behaved (most of the time) and they love me and each other and are a whole lot of fun.

And I have marvelous friends. This week I've got to spend quite a bit of time with some key friends, people I couldn't imagine loving more or being more comfortable and open with. They've been the greatest blessing of our time spent here in Lindsay--living in the pressure cooker with us, understanding of our flaws while still helping us to become our best selves. I couldn't have asked for anyone better.

And then back to family. Family, wherein I have been so absurdly fortunate. Most people love my family, and with good reason. If you don't know them, trust me, you would love at least a few of them, and likely all of them. My parents are supportive, encouraging, demanding and forgiving. My siblings are hilarious and devoted and fun. They all married wonderful people, and are raising gaggles of wonderful, unique kids. My sisters have been great examples and friends to me--you know how younger siblings reach that age where they're not cute anymore and they're just annoying? I'm sure I must've hit that stage with my sisters, but to their credit, I never knew it. They always included me and often let me tag along or hang out with them when they were with their friends. I always felt like they liked having me around, which meant the world to me, because I thought they were about the coolest girls to ever walk the planet. My brothers were always coming up with some grand adventure or scheme, and their creativity added a lot of excitement (and, in my more sensible moments, fear) to my life. And, being the baby, I never had to deal with what a lot of youngest children do in being seen forever as the baby. As we grew up, they let me grow up, too, and now we're all friends. Pretty fabulous, right?

But then I got Doug's family. I had no idea what I was getting--I didn't meet a single member of his family until a week or two before we got married, and at first it was totally overwhelming for me. They were so different than my own relatively low-key clan: loud, outspoken, emotional. They occasionally would randomly start singing songs together (now that I've been in on a few rounds of that with Billy Joel or Kingston Trio songs, I'm so glad that they do that). It took some adjustments and some learning, but now his sisters are some of my closest friends and I can't imagine my life without them. They're so terribly much fun. They're my sisters. Rachel and Chuck, whose personality types are much more familiar to me, fell into such a natural place as my other dad and my baby sister after Chuck and Katy got married and Doug and I moved here from Hawaii.

All told, there are four people in my life that I think of very explicitly as my parents, and 18 people run through my mind when I picture "brothers and sisters". Those are people that love me and consider me some of their closest family. And that's before I even start counting faithful friends.

And, of course, there is my husband. If I had spent as much time with any other person in the world as I have with him the last six months, it may have ended with me smothering the other person or myself. But I don't feel that way at all--I find myself wishing we could figure out a way to be self-employed so that we could have him at home this much all the time. I think I'll miss him when he has to go back to being at work 8-10 hours every day, and I know his littlest girls will miss him.

Part of the reason I haven't written much the last several months is that in all the stress and fear of the unknown and emotional difficulties swirling around us, I just don't feel much like sharing. Who knows who reads this besides my close friends? It feels strange to me just putting personal things out there into the universe unless there is some universal principle, some lesson, that can be drawn from it. But the other reason is that every time I sit down to write, the words escape me. I can't think or feel anything other than a literally overwhelming gratitude for the people in my life and the great love that surrounds me. Thank you, all of you, for being you and for everything that you are to me. Its hard to imagine a person more blessed than myself.

I consider myself twice blessed, in that I'm happy--and I know it.

Summer

2011-06-20T08:11:00.001-07:00

Isn't it a blast?

Almost a decade

2011-06-10T13:20:00.000-07:00

Today is the kids' last day of school. As we were making our way home in the sunshine, I was feeling a little lost, as there wasn't a Sam, a Stephen, a bonfire, a creek, or marshmallow to be seen. It's been 9 years since I've had a last day of school like that, yet I still have that feeling every June. I wonder how many more years til that feeling wears off.

Of course, I don't think I'll ever not miss Sam and Stephen. Life was fun with those two. Really fun.

Blessings

2011-06-01T16:01:00.000-07:00

So, it seems like I've missed 1,000 things lately. . .and I have. I've remembered to scribble a few things down here and there but it occurred to me that since starting this blog a couple of years ago, I've gotten quite horrible about journaling. I hope I haven't lost anything important in the busyness while I neglected to blog.

Keira Clark was blessed on Easter Sunday, April 24th, 2011 in the Lindsay Ward of the Porterville California Stake. She was blessed by her daddy, Douglas Clark, with Brad Clark, Paul West and Nate McDonald (uncles), Christopher Clark, Charles Winter (grandpas), and Kindon Meik and Clint Ashcraft (family friends) all standing in.

Seeing any baby blessed, especially my own, always makes me feel joyful. I was particularly grateful at Keira's blessing, however. With everything that has been going on of late and the emotional exhaustion that has resulted from all that, seeing my little girl in that big circle of faithful Priesthood holders and knowing that she was coming to a place and family where she was already so tremendously loved reminded me how blessed we are. It was a striking visual and spiritual reminder that I have in my life many, strong loving arms surrounding me and supporting me. For every difficulty in my life, there are at least a dozen blessings, usually in the form of friends and loved ones. To be loved by and bound to so many good people is truly a supernal joy--there are no words.

Keira was blessed that she would be able to know right from wrong, and blossom into the kind of young women that her Father in Heaven will be pleased with. She was told that she has been blessed with many gifts that would reveal themselves over time. She was blessed that she would be able to feel the love of her family, as she has been born to a home and family where there is a great deal of love and affection; that she would have the ability to be a peacemaker and someone that her siblings love to be around; that she would be motivated to serve others and have the health and strength she would need to do so.

I've learned to pay close attention to baby blessings--I used to think of them as a nice thing we do, but not being an ordinance otherwise not very important. But it has been fun to go back and read my older childrens' blessings as they've grown a little and I've gotten to know them better and see how they fit in our little family.

In Keilana's blessing, we heard that she would have a keen heart and strong testimony, with the ability to bring the Spirit into her home and into the lives of those around her, to be a comfort to me and set an example of for her siblings as they came, and that she would know the Savior's love for her. I've often said to Doug and a few others that is amazes how natural and almost instinctive her understanding of the Gospel is-its always wonderful to see how much she "gets" it and understands for someone her age. I've never worried much about her-something's always told me, this one will figure it out. And she lights people up-everywhere she goes, she collects fan clubs because she's got so much love to give.

And Dylan. Oh, Dylan. He was blessed that he'd continue to have a good disposition and a good relationship with his sister, and that he would have the spiritual fortitude to face his challenges, because he would have some that were unique to him. When I heard that and he was only six weeks old, it threw me for a bit of a loop, "What does that mean?" Now that I've watched him grow a little, I have a much better understanding of what that meant. I don't always know what to do with him, but he delights me with all off his little strangenesses.

When Kylie was blessed, I remember thinking, "OK, I've got this one pegged." Her blessing said exactly what I expected, which is funny, since hers was the longest of any of our babies. She was told that she was one of the Lord's chosen daughters and would have His spirit with her, that she would be a stalwart and faithful member of the Church. She was told that she would be a steadying influence in her family and a support and friend to her siblings, as well as to many others. She was blessed that she would love and learn to embrace the Gospel and be baptized and learn the virtues taught in YW so that she could start an eternal family of her own, that she would be a light in her mother's eyes and quick to smile. As little as she is, so much of that has already been fulfilled, and I'm sure will continue to be. With a lot of intense personality coming before her, she's our little even keel, our little charmer.

My point is, I got some good ones. The way things go around here, I suspect that we were friends long before we were officially organized into this little family unit. I know that a lot of mothers struggle to feel like they're doing the best they can with and for their kids but the truth is, as frightening as the responsibilities of parenting can be, I don't spend a lot of time worrying about it or kicking myself. That's not because of any tremendous confidence in myself; it because of confidence in my children, in the inherent good in them. I've been here longer and so there's a lot I can offer them because they haven't figured a lot of things out yet, and I try to be consistent and to teach them and hope that they'll forgive the times/areas where I fall short, but at the end of the day I know that they are remarkable souls and that they'll do just fine in the long run. I think of how much my mom means to me and how much she's given me, and its hard to imagine ever being able to bless my children as much as they've blessed me. Even with all the madness and stress that's gone around the last several months, our home has been filled with laughter and play every day. There's been a lot of wrestling and reading with Daddy, and Family Home Evenings where I'm sure Dylan heard nothing but did cover every square inch of our living room with his wiggling, and horsey rides on the carpet and jump ropes flying everywhere. I'm glad that Doug and I found each other and that we were sent these little people that we got, because we're having a whole lot of fun, the six of us.

Catch-22

2011-05-27T15:57:00.000-07:00

I've invested a lot of time and energy in trying to teach my children, in both direct and indirect ways, about consequences, planning ahead, keeping a long-term perspective, etc. Understanding those things is no small feat when you're only 5.

In Dylan's classroom, they have a behavior chart that looks like a giant stoplight--red, orange and green. Each child's name is written on a clothespin, and if they behave all day, they stay in green. If they get a warning, their name is moved to orange, and if they further misbehave, they are moved to red and get a time-out. Dylan has been getting in orange here and there the last few months, mostly for things like talking or wiggling about when he's supposed to be sitting down and listening. Since the beginning of April, I've been telling him that if he makes it a whole week staying in green every day, I'd take him to get ice cream. Thus far, he's always fallen short of the goal.

But this week he's done really well, and as of last night had stayed in green every day--only one day to go. Last night, he wouldn't eat his dinner (he doesn't believe in eating anything besides chicken nuggets, pepperoni pizza [and only pepperoni or cheese is ok], granola bars, and then anything consisting almost entirely or refined, bleached flour--added salt a plus) so I told him that Keilana was the only one who was going to get ice cream (Doug had brought some home on an errand run a night or two earlier). He whined at first that he wanted ice cream, but I insisted he had to eat his dinner or he wasn't getting any. Finally, he resolutely pushed his plate away and said, "No, I'm not eating sloppy jos. I'll have ice cream tomorrow after I stay in green."

I didn't know whether to cheer or slap him.

Happy Belated Mother's Day

2011-05-11T19:23:00.000-07:00

I'm very lucky. I came from the best. . . .

And I got the best. . . .

I love all the mothers and children in my life.

Hope you all had a good day.

Thanks for all that you do.

Escape

2011-05-10T10:03:00.000-07:00

I'd really like a break. I haven't done anything without my kids in two months, and very little without them in the six months before that. Just as importantly, I haven't left Tulare County at all in four months. I'd like to go on a date and get out of here for. . .somewhere. I was telling Doug the other day that all of a sudden I keep thinking of all these places I wanted to go: Monterey, camping, Montana, Sacramento, Disneyland, Cayucos, etc, and I finally realized that it was because I hadn't been farther away than Fresno since October (and not even that far away since January). That doesn't seem like a very long time, and normally it's not, but given the six months I've had, it feels like a long time to be stuck here.

Hopefully now that I've identified what's eating at me, I can adjust my attitude. Because it's likely going to be at least another month before I get out on a date, let alone get out of the area. And with gas at $4.20/gallon, I likely won't be going very far after that! So remember me when you have playdates, or I may just go further into hermit mode and lose my mind entirely ;)

On a positive note, we got our garden put together finally! So hopefully in a month or so we'll be picking our own peppers and tomatoes (and hopefully we'll add more spices to our lonely little basil plant and get some onions and radishes in there, too). So if you've been wondering what to get me for my birthday (and I know you all plan your whole summer around that), potted flowers to color up my patio would be good. I'm sssooo excited to finally have pretty, usuable outdoor space!

Companions

2011-05-07T21:18:00.001-07:00

Grandma Barnes (Doug's maternal grandmother) passed away about two weeks ago. Katy asked me to put together a slideshow for the memorial and, of many great images, this one is my favorite:

I love it because it really makes me happy, knowing these two and what a wonderful team they were. And for exactly the same reason, it makes me absolutely heartsick. That's a word I don't use often, but I think it is definitely the most appropriate word here.

Let me back up for a minute. Doug's cousin, Stephanie, was asked to speak from the grandchild's perspective at the memorial, so she asked all her cousins to send her some of their favorite memories of Grandma--and boy were there some great ones! I had a great deal of fun listening to Doug and his sister Jennifer as they compiled their lists of memories. After several of the stories she told, she said, "I guess that story's about Grandpa as much as Grandma." Finally, having the same trouble with his list, Doug replied, "Its so hard to think of a memory of Grandma that isn't about Grandpa. Where Grandma's personality really sparked was in how she interacted with him." I have often referred to them as Abbott and Costello--they are hilarious, and if there's anyone who ever spent time around them and didn't enjoy it, I'd be quite surprised. But if you take away half the team, it just doesn't work. They were entirely devoted to each other and clearly enjoyed one another's company. Its fun to be around people who are always having fun with each other, and they always seemed to be having a great time. There was much talk of Grandma's ability as Hostess Extraordinaire--a well-deserved title--as she kept everyone well fed and watered and comfortable. But even in that, the real magic in her hosting was the entertainment, which nearly always came from her interaction with Grandpa. We've all asked many times over the last few weeks, "What's Grandpa gonna do now?"

They've been married 61 years. They've constantly and consistently been the most important thing in each other's lives since they were both in their early 20s. At that point, do you even know who you are without each other? If you've had a good marriage, which they most certainly have, then you are a huge part of who the other person is by then. And so it shouldn't be all that surprising then that the photograph above evokes in me a very similar feeling as this one:
My cousin snapped this photo of my grandma last fall at the graveside of her companion. She and Clark had only been married 10 years, but he is her eternal companion and I can tell you, seeing the difference in my grandma over the last 10 years, he is a big part of who she is now.

So these images make me heartsick for the loneliness of the spouse left behind to wait for a time. Not that either of these two wonderful people is really alone: they both have large, loving families. But even that wonderful blessing is not a substitute for the daily companionship of your one closest love, around whom you've built your life--and your self.

And I admit that is also makes me sad for very selfish reasons, because I know that the statistical odds make it very likely that one day, years from now (many, many years, I hope), I'll be the one sitting in that chair. And even now, likely decades from that point, I dread that thought. Barely 8 years in to our relationship, I can't even imagine a life without my husband. You know how after you have kids, you only hazily recall what it was you were like, what your life was like, before they existed, because now every thought and decision is so naturally informed (whether consciously or not) by your parenthood? I can't really remember who I was before our relationship. Oh, sure, if I stop to think about it, that's in there somewhere, but I so rarely think of anything in terms of "I" "me" or "mine" anymore--my life is all about "we" "us" and "ours". When I'm upset and need to vent, I turn to him. When I'm excited and want to share it, I turn to him. I casually express thoughts to him I wouldn't dare hint at to others. I so seldom have any need to explain myself. We enjoy each other's company nearly always. I remember laughing one time when one of Grandpa's grandchildren asked him about keeping up a good marriage so long and he replied happily, "Just don't get bored, ever."

I can't imagine being bored with my husband, ever. If we know each other this well now, are such a part of one another after less than ten years, I simply can't fathom how difficult it would be to say good bye after six decades together. Maybe if I'm really obedient and good, the Lord will let us quietly slip away together in our sleep, sometime around 2069. Of course, by then Doug would be 93, so maybe I'm asking too much. . . .

Family Moments

2011-05-01T22:42:00.001-07:00

The silver lining in losing a loved one is that is usually means you get to spend some time with a lot of other loved someones. So there are little moments like Mimi and Kylie sharing some cookies after lunch at the country club:

And Christa stealing a laugh with Grandpa after a lot of the crowd had started to clear out:
We got to spend a lot of time with this crew this week. I was born to a wonderful family, people I love, who I would love to be friends with even if I weren't related to them. And then when I got married, I got this wonderful second family. Spending some time with all of them this week reminded me how grateful I am to call them mine. They're pretty cool folk.

Spring

2011-05-01T16:47:00.001-07:00

I'm ready for renewal, for sunshine, for bare feet and green grass, for flowers and birds. How about you?

Its been a long, trudging winter. Its been tiring. But the other night when I got myself to bed late and I looked at my sleeping baby and sleeping husband on opposite sides of the bed, it took me a minute to crawl in because I couldn't decide whether to snuggle up to my little girl or my best friend, and I thought to myself, "What a marvelous dilemma." Life is good.

Life's tough; get a helmet.

2011-04-21T12:18:00.000-07:00

Doug just left. He's got an out-of-town meeting today, but first he was going to Visalia to stop at the hospital. His grandma has been unwell for some time and is now on life-support, so those decisions are being made.

Its been a long six months or so: in September, my step-grandpa died (I was grateful we'd been able to spend some meaningful, quality time with him on our last trip home last June); a few weeks later, a family friend passed away; my grandma has been in and out of the hospital a few times (she has leukemia and a broken hip); half the town went freaking nuts and caused a whole lot of stress, which led to Doug's boss resigning, which led to a new boss, which led to a crazy hostile work environment, which led to Doug quitting his job; so now we're on the hunt for a new job, whilst Doug finishes his professional project for his Master's degree; meanwhile, I've been pregnant through all the madness, and just welcomed a new baby. Throw in the daily challenges, stresses, mishaps and busyness of day-to-day, week-to-week life, and you have a recipe for a bit of emotional pandemonium.

And now Doug and his family are going to have to say goodbye to Grandma Barnes.

So, there it is, the reason I've been mostly MIA the last few months, and not just on my blog. I'm an introvert, and so my natural reaction when something is painful or difficult or stressful is to turn inward. I try to fight that, but the fact is I've been inching more and more towards hermit status in my daily life the last few months.

You know how when it rains, it pours? Life has been like this the last several months for most of our friends and extended family. Its a lot easier when one family kind of gets poured on and you can spread it around by reaching out to others who are having a bit more smooth sailing and therefore steady each other. But everyone has been slammed by circumstances that have caused them to struggle not to feel angry, frustrated, hurt and overwhelmed. Its just been a lot to absorb, adapt to, deal with, especially when most of the people you rely on for support feel emotionally or spiritually off-kilter as well.

But this morning I have been thinking about Easter, for the reasons that we celebrate--the life of the Savior and the Atonement--and about my own grandma's passing away and the importance of perspective. My twin brother and I were very, very close to my mom's mom; we spent nearly as much time in her care as we did my mom's, it seemed like. My aunt called the house to let us know that Grandma was gone, and I was tasked with telling my siblings. I found my twin brother at our dad's office working. I walked in and just said, rather weakly, "Grandma's gone". His eyes welled up with tears as he smiled, very genuinely, and replied, "Good for her." I was so grateful for that, because I knew that he meant it--I needed that reminder. With that simple sentence and bright smile at a moment of grief, he reminded me that good-byes are not forever, and brighter blessings lay ahead.

For Family Home Evening this week, we talked about the last days of Jesus' life and the Resurrection. We talked about his prayers and the commencement of the Atonement in the Garden of Gesthemane, and his death upon the cross. As Keilana helped me explain how he was hung on the cross, Dylan said, "Ouchie. That would hurt really bad." I agreed and explained that Jesus felt every kind of owie and hurt that there is, so that he can always know how to make us feel better when we get hurt. We talked about repentance and forever families. That's the perspective that matters--the perspective that keeps us joyful even in stressful times or hard losses.

When Doug left his job, he asked me if I was upset or worried. My response was that, even in the worst case scenario I can imagine stemming from that decision, my babies won't go hungry and they'll have a safe place to sleep at night. The rest we can work out. From a temporal perspective, we've had a hard six months. From an eternal perspective, we're just fine, and we're going to be OK. So are our loved ones.

I think the hardest thing I've ever been through, emotionally, was saying good-bye to Conner, and watching Tim and Amanda hurt. I still have nightmares occasionally about losing one of my children. If that happened and I didn't have the Gospel, I think that emotionally I would be completely crippled. I am so grateful to know that the Savior knows loss, loneliness, grief and pain better than anyone, and so the one perfect and utterly guiltless being, submitted himself to the demands of justice for the transgressions of others, so that those feelings need not be permanent for anyone. I am grateful to know that even the one thing that seems so final, so complete--death--holds no real power, because he conquered it in the Resurrection.

As Easter approaches, I am grateful to know that he lives. I am grateful that he loves me and is mindful of me--of that I am absolutely certain. I am grateful that he has blessed my life so abundantly that even during times of stress and difficulty, there are a ridiculous amount of things to be grateful for and happy about. I know that the Savior gave all that we might be able to obtain all that he received. Day by day, I strive to live to be worthy of such a gift.

Happy

2011-04-14T18:58:00.001-07:00

So its been a few weeks, but we're still here and we're doing well. A whole lot going on lately, and a whole lot going through my head. I promise that once I get it sorted out for myself, I'll start writing/posting more. In the mean time, thank you for your inquiries about me/the baby/the kids/Doug's schooling and work, and know that we are happy and have been very blessed. Keira is four weeks old today, and she's starting to show a bit of personality. I don't know much about her yet, but I'll let you know as we figure it out.

But she's already smiling. On purpose. That has to be a good sign.

Keira

2011-03-26T10:38:00.000-07:00

Our little leprechaun finally arrived last week. I was supposed to go in to L&D at 7am last Thursday, but Kaweah Delta got totally slammed that morning--seriously, they had women delivering in triage--so I got a call at 6:15am that I was going to have to wait. I was not patient about that. Thankfully, I got a call at about 11:30 that some beds had opened up and we could come in, so we left the kids with Mom (she'd flown in the night before) and headed to Visalia.

At two full weeks overdue with baby number four, my body had made virtually no progress; I'm starting to think that if I left it up to my babies, I really would be pregnant for 10 months at a time! Anyway, I got a dose of meds to get things moving, which did very little. So four hours later, I got another dose, with did a tiny bit more. I hate that part--that's what I hate about having to be induced, just sitting in the hospital, waiting. Its so mind-numbingly boring. Anyway, at about 9 that evening, Rita came in and checked and figured I was far enough along that she could break my water.

So immediately after that I started getting real contractions (yay!) and started doing the walking-the-labor-and-delivery-loop thing, which seemed to help things along. About an hour later I was at a 5 (I had been at a 2.5 when she broke my water) and the baby had definitely moved down, so I was hoping I might still get my St. Patrick's Day baby after all. About a half an hour after that, the contractions were at a point that I couldn't really walk or stand any more so the nurse checked and called Rita. She was so cute as she was rolling me to the recovery ward she said, "Rita asked how it was going and I said, 'Well, I don't know--she's at a 7.5 or 8, but there's still a smile on her face.' Rita said, 'Ok, I'll be right there, it'll be gone in a minute.'" A half an hour later, at 11:10pm, Keira arrived. (Side note: I didn't want an epidural after my experience with Kylie, and it was totally the right decision--much better to do it drug-free, in the long run).

When I saw her, the first thing out of my mouth was, "You're so tiny!" She looked like a little shrimp--short, no rolls anywhere, and hardly any cheeks to speak of! I thought she was going to be in the 7 pound range, she looked so little. It turns out that she weighed 8 pounds and 1 ounce, but she was only 19 inches long. There had been meconium when they broke my water, so Rita had to get her all suctioned out and she looked a little grey, but she put her lungs to good use immediately, which pinked her right up. She screamed and screamed, and not that newborn, bleating cry: it was more like an opera wail. This little girl can shriek! Once I nursed her, she calmed down pretty quick, and has been pretty calm since we brought her home, but there's not really a middle ground when she gets upset--she just goes from 0 to 60 in seconds.

The kids are all really excited and fight over whose turn it is to hold her. We're all adjusting pretty well (we'll see how Kylie does once her playmates are done with spring break and go back to school this week!)

Right after delivery--shrieking away!

Photographic evidence that she isn't as shrimpy as I want to think she is.

Yaya with all the girls, the day after we got home from the hospital.

Hanging out on her new quilt from Grandma Umphrey.

My four little monsters:)

Usually pretty calm and content--lets hope it stays that way!

On having a houseful of young children

2011-03-23T10:03:00.000-07:00

Dylan: "Where's mommy?"

Doug: "She ran away and joined the circus."

Dylan: "Nnnoooooo!!!!"

Doug: "She was tired of all the chaos around here; she needed some stability."

Baby photos/update coming soon, I promise. . .she's doing very well.

Mixed signals

2011-03-14T19:51:00.001-07:00

When Kylie was given a name

and a blessing as a newborn,

we were told that she would be

"quick to smile"

I assumed that was a delightful promise

and it was.

Little did I know

it was also

a warning.

Heaven help me.

Waiting. . .

2011-03-10T10:50:00.001-08:00

Curses. Still pregnant. Part of me really, really hopes that she'll stay put until my mom gets here so that Yaya can meet her right away. The rest of me is simply screaming, "GET OUT ALREADY!" I feel like a whale. Everything hurts, but this week I just decided that if I'm going to be physically miserable either way, then by golly I'm going to be productive and at least not be psychologically miserable. I have found that I simply cannot understand people who are content to loaf about in life (at least for more than a week). Accomplishing so little on a daily basis the last few weeks has made me absolutely insane! I don't generally think of myself as a busy person (if you watch people like my mom or my sister or a few of my incredibly multi-tasking friends, it seems like my days are rather simple), but I really hate feeling unproductive. I'm looking forward to moving with ease and lifting heavy things and being able to run. I've kind of run out of space for my lungs, so I'm actually looking forward to being able to take a full breath. As most of you know, I have a tendency to talk way too fast at times, and if I do that right now, I get a little winded. Even if I'm just sitting down. Super, super annoying. So walking to the park with the kids is a fair amount of work, and I just find that irritating. I'm looking forward to being me again soon!

Megamind!

2011-03-02T19:06:00.001-08:00

For some reason

Kylie thinks that standing on something high

with a remote control in each hand

and pointing said controls at the dog

or her brother or sister

and yelling

"Megamind!"

in a deep voice

makes her all powerful.

Good news and fun

2011-02-26T20:46:00.000-08:00

We found our car! We'd been hunting and hunting and researching and researching online for six weeks and finally yesterday, we bought this little number:

Its a 2005 Dodge Grand Caravan SXT. It has the captain's seats and the Stow N Go seating for all the back seats, a DVD player (we let the kids test it out last night, and it was the quietest ride home. Ever.) Its got brand new tires and has been through the full inspection, new fluids all that that dealers do, and we got it for a great price, plus we have a 36,000 mile warranty on it (which is good, because it does have over 90,000 miles on it). Best part of all, it is 100% paid for. The kids love it, of course, since they have been pretty squished in the back of our Accord the last two years. We took it for a longish drive today and it accelerates pretty nicely (this model has the largest engine available in the Caravan) and handles well. It is sssoooo much more comfortable for me to sit in than the car is right now (when not pregnant I can sit in just about any car for any length of time without much trouble at all--I'm pretty easy to accommodate--but right now I hate riding in the car). Its nice to be able to bring our pooch along with us (especially since she has attachment issues--I swear, we leave for an hour and she acts like we've been gone for days!)--today she snuggled up next to Kylie for most of the trip. And Kylie, of course, was trying to hug her and exclaiming, "Ginger love me!!" She doesn't ever remember not having Ginger, so they're pretty tight.

This next week Doug starts work (he'll be working part time while finishing his project for his Master's Degree and job hunting), and he'll mostly be working weekends and holidays, so we seized the opportunity of a day off on Monday to get out together, all 5 us. Between work and the baby, that probably won't be happening much in the coming months. All our kids love to go geo-cacheing (if you haven't tried it, do! Its a great modern version of a scavenger hunt, and you can do it any time!), even Kylie who has now figured out what it is (more or less). So we hunted and hunted, and they had to show off the little prize they got (its a pin with acorns on it that says, "You don't have to be nuts to cache. . .but it helps!" This particular cache was hidden by a woman that uses the tag "Nut Lady"). Aren't these guys a cute crew?

Cars

2011-02-23T19:59:00.000-08:00

We have to buy a car. Soon. Technically, my due date is a week from tomorrow. We have no plans on this baby arriving until 3 weeks from tomorrow. Hopefully she'll cooperate.

In the mean time, our solitary vehicle (yes, until now the job/living situation has been such that we have been able to get by with only one car and a couple of much abused but surprisingly resilient strollers) is already stuffed to the gills with children, and there's no way that we can fit another kid in our car unless we trade in one of the children we already have (which is an increasingly tempting thought the longer I'm pregnant, actually). I have offered to have Dylan ride in the trunk a few times, but since he shares my claustrophobia gene, he does not find that to be an amusing joke at all. So we have to find a vehicle that will accommodate at least 6 people, and hopefully more like 7-8. And we have to do so in the next 2ish weeks. For under the max amount of money we've set aside for obtaining said vehicle.

You know what I've discovered? I feel exactly the same way about car shopping as I do about cooking: with a more or less unlimited budget, all the time in the world, and no children, it has the potential to be a lot of fun. But when you've got a very set, limited budget, a definite timeline, and lots of little people, its mostly just a headache.

*Sigh*

Wish us luck.

(And if you happen to know of anyone looking to get rid of a 2005 or newer Caravan at a decent price [or any other decent minivan or SUV], let me know).

Not As the World Giveth

2011-02-19T15:08:00.000-08:00

One of my callings is teaching the youth (12-13-year-old) Sunday School class. During ward conference, the Stake Presidency teaches all the youth during second hour and I have the pleasure of sitting in and listening. Usually a week or two prior to conference, the Stake leaders have the youth submit questions that they would like to have answered, and the Stake Presidency prioritizes the questions and addresses as many as time will permit.

One of the questions at the last conference a few weeks ago was, "Does living the Gospel guarantee a happy life?" At first the leaders bounced the question back and forth amongst themselves, trying to decide who would answer. One of them laughed lightly and said, "Define 'happy'." That seemed an honest and appropriate beginning of a response.

My instinctual response is to say, "Yes, absolutely, so long as you don't depend on 'easy' to be 'happy'." Several people started appearing in my mind: I thought of my Grandma, and the weariness she's experiencing; I thought of a dear friend who has a profoundly autistic daughter, as well as four other children who need her time, attention and energy, and has recently struggled with health challenges of her own on top of everything else; I thought of the friend who went from an abusive and broken childhood to make a happy marriage and motherhood, only to be plagued by an aggressive cancer and its after-effects; and of course there was the loved one who has faced a great deal many trials while also shouldering the burden of being judged and somewhat ostracized by her own family for making the right decisions and being true to her testimony.

All these individuals have been obedient to the commandments, diligent in their callings, amazing, devoted wives and mothers and sincere, charitable friends. They are all very, very good people who have nevertheless had to walk some stony paths. They have all had to carry heavy burdens over which they had little to no control, and their lives have had much difficulty and a lot of tears here and there. But every one of them is a happy person. Every one of them makes me happy. They are, more often than not, at peace with themselves, their families, their lives, and the world around them.

Just before the Savior laid down his life, he spoke to his apostles about comfort. They surely did not fully understand yet the magnitude of what was about to happen--the Atonement, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection, the Ascension--or the trials that were to follow. The Lord knew that they would be persecuted, left nearly alone at times, be asked to travel far from home and family, and live through many difficult and temperance-testing circumstances. And He knew that they would have to do it all without Him at their side in the same way that He had been during his mortal ministry. "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you," He told them, but with a very important clarification: "not as the world giveth, give I unto you." The world understands personal peace to mean a lack of conflict or difficulty--there is an ease of circumstances implied in peace as it is traditionally understood in the world. This is not the peace of which the Savior spoke. He spoke of the peace of that comes through his Atonement, the peace brought by the presence of the Holy Ghost; a peace that looks forward to a celestial rest, where conflicts do indeed cease, but that seizes a bit of that peace here and now, in the midst of conflicts we cannot necessarily resolve, hardships that can't necessarily be lifted, outward circumstances that we can do little to change.

The Savior lovingly admonished his apostles to "Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." This is where the happiness lies. Our hearts can be light, knowing that He has "overcome the world". Too often we forget the temporary nature of the challenges we face, and indeed the temporary nature of life itself, and so we make unwise or momentarily satisfying decisions that appear easier or more desirable than striving to live the commandments that the Lord has set forth. Or sometimes in our short-sightedness, we feel that we are being unduly tried after laboring so hard to do the right thing. Without fail, the times we feel alone are the times when we forgot to ask for Him to give us that peace, or we have asked half-heartedly because we know that's what we're supposed to ask for, when in fact what we actually mean is, "Make the hard stuff go away." Too many of us equate "having fun" with being happy or having true joy. The fact is we can have a lot of temporary "fun" while lacking real joy in our lives, and we can have real joy even when life is anything but "fun".

The Lord has paid too steep a price for the agency of man to interfere with it, and that means that no matter how hard we try to be obedient, we will sometimes suffer adverse consequences of others using their agency as they so choose, or simply the happenstance of life. Certainly the Lord can help us to change our circumstances to escape burdens at times, but often there are things we simply must endure. The Lord promised, "I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever. . .I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you." The peace that the companionship of the Spirit brings is not readily describable; I sometimes think of how a loving embrace from a family member or friend in a difficult time can make us feel better, even though that hug itself has done nothing to change the circumstances which have upset us, but even that is a very weak analogy. It is peace and joy in our hearts in knowing that someone loving and wise is ultimately in control and is ever mindful of us, that this too shall pass, and in acknowledging that truth to be able to look beyond the difficulty to what beauty and blessings we may have been overlooking. Its developing a trust in the Lord by cultivating a relationship with the Spirit so that we can obey when we hear the Divine whisper, "Be still, and know that I am God."

Living the Gospel does indeed guarantee a happy life, because one of the commandments is "Be of good cheer". The Savior gave us all the tools to be cheerful in the midst of life's heaviest trials. He offers the Atonement freely, and the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost, but we have to grab hold and make use of them ourselves. Your own happiness, your own peace, your own joy, are always within your grasp.

Good Stuff

2011-02-17T14:09:00.000-08:00

If you have just a minute,

please check this out.

If only they all got such a welcome home.

If only they all came home.

Define "Normal"

2011-02-15T19:19:00.000-08:00

So I'm putting the kids to bed and Dylan has become rather. . .energetic the last six months or so. He's always hopping around, in someone's face, bouncing off walls, jumping off any piece of furniture he can climb, constantly drumming on something, etc. And he's taken to curling up in a ball, with all his blankets swirled around him, in the center of his bed. Which would be fine except that it lasts all of about five minutes and then he's on top of all the blankets and has icy fingers and toes by the time Doug and I head upstairs to go to bed.

So everybody's had a super grumpy afternoon today and I am so done with the bouncing and I say to him, somewhat impatiently, "Dylan, stop hopping around and put your head down on your pillow and lay down under your covers like a normal kid."

Without a hint of humor, and in fact with every bit of earnestness his little voice can muster, he replies, "But Mom, I'm not normal!!"

I really had to laugh at that one. Last week I had them in the car and they started arguing about something (I was zoned in on my music and had tuned them out) when Dylan started to whimper. I asked what was wrong. "Keilana says I'm weird," he whined. She responded very cheerfully, "Its OK, Dylan. You are weird, but its OK to be weird." A few days later I was on the phone with his aunt while he played upstairs and she said, "So, like, don't take this the wrong way, but Dylan's really weird," to which I instantly replied, "Oh, I know." She continued, "He's not like 'special' weird is he? Some of his behaviors are kind of extreme for someone as little as he is." I pointed out that he's in the "special" preschool class, and no one there has even considered having him evaluated, much less labeled, so I'm pretty sure that he still falls somewhere under the bell curve, even if he is skewed sort of far to one end of it. The fact is, "weird" runs in the family. What on earth would we do with "normal"? I'm afraid it would look terribly strange to us.

Almost

2011-02-13T17:46:00.001-08:00

This cute little boy wrapped in my sarong and the clear memory of how gorgeous it was in Hanauma Bay that day (how I miss warm ocean and fresh pineapple and the scent of plumerias everywhere. . . ) almost makes me want to go live in Hawaii again. Almost. Then I remember how very far away it is when you want to visit a grandparent or somebody gets sick or you're too broke for plane tickets. Then I remember that, as much fun as it was living there single or childless, now that I'm a mom and a grown up, I much prefer being a closer part of the lives of the people I'm bound to. Even if California is still dreadfully far away from this little boy (who ain't so little anymore--he's 10 now!) and the rest of his family and cousins. In my dream world, both families are just a few hours apart so I can be a big part of both of them. For now, we work with the distance as best we can and I relish the opportunity to read my sister's blog and see my brother's photos on Facebook and chat with my mom on the phone. If I have to be almost 1500 miles from them, I'm glad I live in the digital age.

It also almost makes me wish my hair was that length again. Almost. Maybe once I'm past the "baby stage" in life. But I think its getting lopped off again this summer--as soon as baby is big enough to start getting her fingers twirled up in it.

35 weeks

2011-01-28T17:03:00.000-08:00

So I realize that this is an odd outfit choice, but its the only reason that I remembered to take a picture at all. Doug and I are going to the temple tomorrow, and its been a few months since I put my dress on, so I was trying it on to make sure it still fit, and Kylie walked in and laughed and said, "Marshmallow, Mommy." I think I'm still a little cuter than the marshmallow man on Ghostbusters. But just barely. So, here we go, 5 weeks til my due date.

Chatting with Grandma

2011-01-25T17:46:00.000-08:00

I spent about an hour on the phone with my grandma the other night. I've always loved her (I've been very blessed in the grandma department), but she was someone I never thought of myself as being very similar to when I was child.

Now that I'm old enough to be more self-aware, I laugh occasionally at the similarities I do see: she talks too fast and often laughs before finishing a sentence, so that people sometimes have a hard time understanding what she's saying; she's very independent-minded and terribly stubborn, never taking well to having others tell her what she can or can't do; she has a tendency to oversimplify things she doesn't want to deal with; for all her boldness within the family, she's actually rather shy by nature; she loves kids, especially babies; she's loves photos--taking them, having them, looking through them over and over again.

There is a comfort and ease in talking to her that comes from the fact that, at the end of the day, two things really matter to her: the Gospel and her family. Everything in her life is seen, processed and judged through that perspective, and she has a hard time understanding how anyone can get through life, much less enjoy it, without those two things at the center. There have been times when I've felt like my grandma didn't get enough credit--she's not terribly articulate by nature or training and is as flawed as anybody else, so it seemed that at times perhaps her understanding of certain things was underestimated.

But the last few years, its been hard to take her faith for granted. She had already faced a lot of trials, notable among them a very rocky 38-year marriage that ended in divorce, the death of one of her sons just after birth, and the death of another son when he was a young adult. After a lot of heartache, it seemed like she'd finally found an even keel: she was married for a third time, and this time was sealed. I will never forget the impression it made on me a few years into her marriage to Clark when she said, "He's a companion to me." She had loved my grandfather a great deal, but that was a type of relationship that she'd never had. The peace it brought to her was obvious in her demeanor and temperament. And then she lost a daughter to murder, and felt very much like she'd also lost a grandson, her head spinning in circles trying to understand how he could've done such a thing. And then she had to bury the eternal companion she had waited so long to find. And now she has luekemia.

Through it all, she's been sad, and she's had her moments of grumbling, but she's been calm and generally happy. When I talked to her, she was telling me that she needed to work on her attitude, because it was hard not to be grumpy about being so doggone tired all the time (at the moment, I can certainly relate to that frustration--I'm very grateful there's a timeline on my fatigue and that its much less severe), and she was pretty grumpy about the fact that she was probably going to have to do another bone marrow test, because that big needle in her bone sure hurts. "But I know my disposition makes a lot of difference," she told me, "So I'm going to be positive." She sounded pretty determined. "I've got really good grandkids," she went on. "Christabel was here the other day, and then Gwendolyn stopped by yesterday. They're good company, they're good girls." She went on about how grateful she was that her grandkids and great-grandkids are all healthy and strong and smart and live relatively good lives. She realizes that with the number of descendants she has, the odds are that more should've gone wrong, and it hasn't. Such a positive outlook from a woman who has buried three of her own children--a fact that would be enough to make many women (understandably) morose or pessimistic. She's got a healthy, happy family who love her, and that's all that matters. It really seems her only disappointments are where her kids or grandkids have stepped outside the Church, but even in that she's optimistic. "He's still young. I was stupid sometimes when I was young."

And I guess that's what Grandma always reminds me, whether she intends to or not: a loving family and the Gospel are bound to make one optimistic. The Gospel helps you see the best in your family, and reminds you always that the best thing in life is family. If you stick together and do the right thing, there's a very bright future to look forward to, and a lot of fun to be enjoyed along the way. After all, as President Packer is fond of saying, "Salvation is an individual matter. Exaltation is a family matter." I'm glad to have a Grandma who makes me mindful of that.

Changes and support

2011-01-10T10:43:00.000-08:00

Doug left his job early last week. It was a shock and it wasn't. Part of me had been preparing for the possibility, and part of me just couldn't have been prepared.

We should be OK for a while, having some time to figure out, step by step, where to go from here. Why he left and how we got to this point is a whole other blog post (or perhaps a whole other blog), but it looks like there are some interesting possibilities out there and, though it might require some sacrifice in the mean time, we're both feeling pretty optimistic.

The only truly unsettling part to me was how people might react to this change--we'd gotten so used to our lives being so intertwined in so many ways with so many of the people we know, that we both knew that this wasn't just your normal leaving-a-job-situation in a lot of ways. But once again, our friends have proved that they are worth their weight in gold. They've reached out and showed nothing but understanding, support and optimism for our future. It is a real blessing in life to know that there are lots of people who love you for you, in spite of whatever flaws you may have, and who want always for you and your family to be happy and successful. I have felt no loneliness or judgment in this change, and for that I am extremely grateful.

So wish us luck. It looks like Doug may get his master's degree finally completed (and it will be nice to have the paper in hand, since he spent a lot of time and money on that education), and will be able to do so in a simpler and cheaper manner than we had expected. There are lots of logistics to be figured out, and new employment to find, but I'm feeling good. I'm the type that would be inclined to panic at times like this, and I haven't. I feel at peace. Nothing has really gone according to plan since we got married, and yet things have worked out pretty well to this point. I've gotten much better at just accepting living life one step at a time, not knowing for sure where we're headed. I'm excited to see what comes next.

First Step

2011-01-04T14:53:00.000-08:00

However we got to where we are,

it is where we are now.

Wherever we may have been before,

or where we thought we were headed,

we've got to start now from where we are.

It seems like the path ahead is dark,

and I'm not sure where the next footstep will fall.

But I trust that if I keep listening to the Spirit

and keep putting one foot at a time forward,

that foot will land on solid ground,

and the light will follow.

Faith isn't given.

Its earned, step by step.

The iron rod didn't pass through sunlight

and clear skies.

It was surrounded

by "mists of darkness"

It provided a sure guide

to sunlight and clear skies,

but only if you held on

and pressed forward,

sometimes without being able to see

where the path was going.

No matter how dark the world that surrounds it,

the path is narrow

and straight.

Undeviating.

But you've got to take that first step

when the darkness descends.

And then another.

Of course

2010-12-30T18:19:00.000-08:00

Me: "What is going on in there?!"

Dylan (shouted in an "are you stupid?" tone): "We're playing crocodile family!"

Silly me. How could I have missed that?

Grateful

2010-12-28T15:58:00.001-08:00

These two have been married for 37 years:

A happy childhood can make you take a lot of things for granted.

Like growing up in a home with a solid marriage.

I was an adult before I really understood

how much stability and comfort that gives to childhood.

I'm glad they found each other.

I'm glad I was sent to the family they created.

I'm glad that they had all those other kids who came before me.

Because it turns out that their genes and parenting combined

produced some pretty cool people.

And I'm grateful for all of them.

I wish I was closer.

But I'm grateful that I feel loved and missed.

I'm grateful that I miss them so much.

I'm grateful to have so many people in my life worth missing.

(And, on a side note: check out my mom's cheeks!

My babes and I come by them honestly:-)

I'm just glad that, so far,

none of them have Dad's ears).

Puzzled

2010-12-28T13:52:00.000-08:00

Do you ever expend a lot of energy

looking for the substance in something

only to conclude that,

perhaps,

deep down

there is no deep down?

Christmas, pictures, jumbled thoughts

2010-12-27T18:42:00.000-08:00

I still haven't even downloaded photos, much less edited or resized any. Maybe tomorrow when the house is relatively empty. I don't have a lot of great photos this year anyway--besides my big belly making me rather lazy, my two year old crawling on me a lot, my auto-focus not working, etc, etc, most of my photos are. . .eh. But I'll get there.

But we had an awesome Christmas. Santa was good to the kids, cousins were good to the kids, and grandparents were good to the kids. Dylan may not need any presents for his birthday. More about all the fun later--we've really been enjoying having cousins here (well, Kylie, Dylan and Keilana have really been enjoying the cousins, and Doug and I have been very much enjoying the company of Jen and Paul--we hope they'll come visit us again even though we kept them up til 5am talking).

And I have lots of things I want to write about for the first time in some time, so hopefully I'll get some time to quietly sort out my thoughts and get to that, too. Stay tuned. . . .

The Christmas Spirit

2010-12-22T17:23:00.001-08:00

Its been strange getting into "Christmas mode" this year: usually, Christmas time kind of sneaks up on me; this year, I was ready months ago to just get to Christmas already. And then when it was actually time to start thinking about Christmas, so many things had so rapidly become complicated (or it was rapidly revealed how complicated they were) that my mind and emotions have been all over the map.

Yet, in preparing with the kids, I've been more on top of things than usual--we have ended our day each evening with a scripture related in some way to the Savior's birth, or to his actions/mission while on the earth, and then a prayer. I've done a couple of Family Home Evenings where all the kids actually paid attention most of the time! We've worked on being patient and kind to each other. In the midst of the troubles and difficulties, our home has truly been a refuge. Although too many personal connections remain at the end of the day to leave the stress of work completely at work, Doug has been very good at leaving it to the side when he is with his family: he comes home and, rather than unload his stress on the kids or just sit in front of the TV to unwind (either of which would be pretty understandable), he pours his energy into playing with the kids, and they all end up in a heap on our bed, or leaping over couches and tables as they wrestle with daddy and act like the adorable, hilarious little monsters that they are. Even though having a family adds to the stress of every problem, I have never been more grateful for the relief that a happy family provides from the rest of life's worries.

I was remembering perhaps the most unhappy Christmas I've ever experienced. Eleven years ago, just shy of week before Christmas a young man who was a close friend to both of my brothers took his own life. Needless to say, it was tough to feel much like celebrating anything. His memorial was just two days before Christmas, and though I liked the young man (he was by far the friendliest of my brothers' friends relative to me), I hadn't been close to him. My brothers' hurt, however, was abundantly apparent and it was hard not to ache for them in such a horrible loss. I didn't really feel like doing Christmas at all--life just seemed too ugly at the moment to be festive about anything.

On Christmas Eve, my older sister was talking to a relative about something--I honestly can't remember who it was or what the conversation was about--and I heard her refer to my brother and I as "the twins". I loved being a twin, but for much of my childhood I had resented that tag, feeling as though I never had my own name. But suddenly, hearing her use that phrase at that moment brought me back to the good in life--I suddenly remembered that I belonged somewhere, at a moment when I think we all felt a bit like we were drifting. I was one of the "twins", a part of a wonderful and loving family. I was born as one of two to be one of seven, seven wonderful people I was so blessed to have as part of my life. And I looked around at all the other relatives in our home that Christmas Eve, and remembered how many people there were in my life that loved me, that I loved. That was reason enough to celebrate.

Our absurdly large (as it was added to nearly every year for almost 20 years) homemade clay nativity was set up on the end table next to where I sat. At the center was the one truly lovely piece, the first one my father ever made, starting our tradition: Mary, holding her child. Into my head came Isaiah's words: "Unto us a child is born; unto us a son is given. . . ." That little boy was sent not just to Mary, but to all of us. We celebrate his birth because he brought with him the promise of redemption from sin and error, and of comfort for all pain and hurt. Elder Maxwell, who battled several rounds of very painful cancer, once said, "If the only kind of pain he felt were mine, he loves us more than we know." I needed to be reminded that whatever pain we might feel, particularly under such difficult circumstances as those, where so many questions remain unanswered, there is a remedy. The sting will dull, and there is one who promises peace. There is one who offers rest unto our souls, however heavy the burden we carry may be.

This Christmas has not been nearly so difficult as that one more than a decade ago, but it certainly has had its challenges. But even as times and circumstances in our lives change, eternal principles do not. Whatever difficulties or challenges we face--professionally, physically, mentally, or emotionally--he knows our need and can fill it. Whatever the trials in our lives, we look to his birth as a time to celebrate because the life he led offered us all so much.

The baby in the stable of Bethlehem became the Savior of Gesthemane and Calvary. He walked the most difficult path and lived the loneliest life ever lived so that our path might be easier, our burden lighter, and so that, no matter what trials lie in our path, we might never walk alone. All that he asks in return, to truly show our discipleship, is that we "love one another". Even when its hard. I'm trying to remember that.

More Smiles Today

2010-12-21T20:54:00.001-08:00

I always miss my Grandma the most at Christmas. That's when the nostalgic happiness that accompanies my many, many memories of her turns into a bit of an ache. She's been gone for six years now, but so many of my happiest childhood memories, and happiest Christmas memories, period, involve her. I would snuggle up on her couch in a quilt and watch her large collection of Christmas movies. Michael and I would always help her put up and decorate the tree (which in her mind was never complete until Michael had set up the train), and ooh and ahh over the cleverness of the Christmas tree stand that our Grandpa had made out of horseshoes, for a moment "remembering" with her a man we never knew here and yet held fondly in our hearts. We'd pin her little elves to her drapes, hang candy canes just about anywhere they would stay, and carefully put up her ornaments, most of which were much older than we were. She loved Christmas so very much, and was a great gift-giver; every year she swore that she wasn't going to do presents because "there are just too many this year" and every year her little red Toyota would be loaded up with gifts as she made her rounds to the houses of her children and grandchildren.

Of the many stories I heard her tell and retell, one that was always one of my favorites, and certainly one of hers, was the Christmas present she got when she was four. She remembered it being a long winter, because it seemed like her Mom had been in bed a lot. All she wanted for Christmas was a baby doll. On Christmas Eve, her dad emerged from her parents' bedroom, proclaiming, "Here's your baby doll!" and handed her her present: her baby sister, Verna.

I think I loved that story so much because it meant something to me. I spent a lot of hours playing on Verna's carpet, building various things out of Lincoln Logs with my brother, or learning to play various card games at her table. They were the best of friends, and such a wonderful balance. Grandma was all about firmness, determination, being tough. Verna has always been a bit softer, a more accommodating type of personality. I loved going places with the two of them and watching them have fun together.

This year, Grandma's "baby sister" is 90

I wish I could be there to wish her a happy birthday, but a card will have to do. My grandma was born in June of 1916, and Verna was born in December of 1920. Keilana was born in June of 2004 and Kylie arrived in December of 2008. So far, my girls are great friends. I hope I can say as much when they're in their 80s.

Early Learning

2010-12-21T09:43:00.000-08:00

Just now when I sat down and turned on Christmas music to get started on my chores, Kylie turned to the computer when she heard "Silent Night" start playing and told me, "Its baby Jesus!"

That made me smile.

The Little Drummer Boy

2010-12-17T16:28:00.000-08:00

Though nothing will ever, ever pass "O Holy Night" on my list of favorite Christmas songs (aside from perhaps Handel's Messiah, is there a more stirring, moving song, anywhere?), "The Little Drummer Boy" is a close second for me.

Perhaps because I am somewhat prone to feelings of smallness or inadequacy, the story of a little boy with nothing but a drum has always resonated with me. Here is this young man, brought before, not just a king, but the king, told to bring his "finest gifts". He feels that he has no gift fit for such a recipient--he is poor and young and has nothing. Nothing but a drum. And its not a piano or a harp or a flute, or some other instrument we generally associate with reverent or worshipful music--nope, this guy is carrying around a snare. And yet he plays his best, offering the only thing he has to give, with all his heart. And then the Christ smiles at him. That's a beautiful, moving story.

It is sometimes easier to recognize other people's gifts than it is to see the value in our own. But the Lord knows us, through and through, inside and out. He knows our capacities, potential, and our limitations. He knows, even better than we do, exactly what we have to offer. Even the simplest gift, no matter how inadequate it may seem to us, is pleasing to him so long as it is offered with a sincere desire to serve and "honor him". We can sit there worrying about how we look next to others with their gifts of gold and expensive ointments, or we can stand confidently and "play [our] best for him". If we do that, I do believe that He smiles at us--that he is pleased and grateful for our efforts. If the Lord is pleased with the gifts we offer, our pride should not stand in the way of us being pleased with them ourselves. He values the devotion and efforts of the girl quietly scribbling in a notebook in the corner just as much as he values the gregarious fellow who's always putting together the best programs and parties.

No one, not even the most righteous and talented and blessed among us, will ever come close to repaying even a fraction of the gift we all were given: "Unto a us a child is born; unto us a son is given. . ." That's what we celebrate. That's why we buy presents and make cookies and decorate trees. Because the Father gave his son, and the son gave his life. Without that, every other gift would be meaningless. With it, every faithful effort is sanctified. In the shadow of the Ultimate Gift, every other gift seems so small. But by faithful exercise of our agency and gifts, we very slowly (line upon line, precept upon precept), work towards eternal exaltation, and a chance to bless countless lives further, to bestow gifts of eternal value. We each have to start somewhere, even if we're too poor and inexperienced to offer anything but a pleasant beat on our little drum.

One of my favorite renditions of this particular song:

Third Tri

2010-12-09T16:01:00.000-08:00

The other day, a friend said, "I keep forgetting you're pregnant." That's the third or fourth time someone has said that to me in the last few weeks. And I keep sort of having that problem myself. There's been so much going on the last few months, and this seems to be the laziest baby ever, so I keep "forgetting" a bit myself. Suddenly I'm going to have a baby around here and it will catch me by surprise. So I thought this might help me remember:

(Sorry about the weird picture. I was too lazy to use a real camera, and then Kylie started pulling on my legs while I was taking it).

Today I'm 28 weeks, so exactly 12 weeks til my due date and 14 weeks til the day we plan on inducing (due dates tend to be somewhat meaningless in my longer-than-average-gestation family). I realized when I looked at the big version of this picture that it looks like I'm sticking my belly out, when in fact I just can't stand up much straighter and actually be comfortable. Its been pretty easy for the most part, other than the annoying and ever-present fatigue. She's sitting a lot lower than Kylie did, which means I already waddle quite a bit, but at least she's not poking into my ribs and decreasing my lung capacity yet.

My midwife is awesome and very low-key, and I've been grateful for that: I've only been in for three appointments so far and don't have another one until after Christmas. It is SO tedious to go to the doctor (especially when you have to leave town and consequently block out an entire afternoon to do so), so when I have no history of complications, personally or in my family, and its the fourth baby and seems to be going smoothly, she just has been really relaxed about everything. I'm so glad that a friend recommended her when I got pregnant with Kylie--she's a great find.

So three months to go! Wish us luck--Kylie LOVES babies, but I'm pretty certain she's going to have a hard time with another little girl overthrowing her reign as baby of the house.

2010-12-09T08:42:00.000-08:00

Life is good. . .

2010-11-30T12:15:00.000-08:00

I've been having trouble getting myself back on track recently (likely because I haven't been trying in the right ways), but three things helped me do that today: its Doug's birthday, so we're going on a date; I got an email from a very old friend; and I gave one of my kiddos a candy cane for the first time this year.

A couple of weeks ago, I was reading a friend's blog where she wrote about the challenge of staying upbeat and focused on the positive in what has felt like a very "heavy" fall.

I knew instantly that she had found the perfect word. Heavy.

In addition to all the trouble in our little neck of the woods, with public lies, personal threats, private hurts, broken trusts, big shakeups, etc, etc, there have been other challenges for us and for people we love: lost jobs (or still no job, despite constant hunting), unexpected illnesses/medical problems, and on top of it all a lingering uncertainty about much of the future. My grandpa (or rather, my grandma's husband--they've only been married 10 years, but they're sealed, so he's grandpa, no?) passed away the day after my grandma's birthday. Because of the ridiculous cost of flying to Montana (especially last minute), I didn't make it home and I felt rather discombobulated to not be with my family as they grieved/celebrated Clark's life and comforted and helped to care for Grandma. A couple weeks later, a woman who was a big part of my childhood passed away--the mother of a girl who was one of my closest friends from first grade all the way to high school graduation. Gaye was only a couple years older than my parents (and actually shares a birthday with my dad), and not having been around the last several years, the news that she was in the hospital was quite a shock to me. At the funeral, my mom approached Dennis, her husband, and expressed how grateful she was for what a great "second mom" Gaye had been to me as I was growing up. He replied, "Oh yeah, I always thought of her as my barefoot daughter." I was comforted by that expression of affection from him, and I was very sad not to be there to express for myself my gratitude for the generosity they had both always shown to me, and to offer to buy him a banana milkshake.

Its just all been a whole lot to process, mentally, emotionally, and in the practical "Now what?" of daily realities. Add to that the general busyness of jobs, callings, three little kids and a tiring (but, thankfully, healthy and uneventful) pregnancy, and the last few months have indeed felt pretty heavy.

But today Doug turns 34, and we decided to go to dinner and a movie tonight (have I mentioned that I LOVE my sister-in-law, who lives a few minutes away and babysits pretty much any time I ask?). That's two months in a row we've managed to make it out on a date. And I love going on dates with my husband, because when we don't have our hands full of children, diaper bags, toys, books and various sticky and/or greasy foodstuffs, I am very much his date: he opens my door for me, he holds my hand, he charms me. I happily and contentedly define myself primarily as a mother, but it is refreshing to be reminded from time to time that there is someone in my life who appreciates all of me--everything I do with and for the kids, and everything else, too. Someone who sees the whole me, and loves me (sometimes, admittedly, in spite of myself). As with most married couples, we probably get more of the worst of each other than anyone else does, but we most certainly get more of the best of each other. And that's why I love him so much--in the long run, we always make each other better. Our marriage is much greater than the sum of its parts.

Hayley, who is the one who lost her mom almost two months ago, sent me a message today in which she apologized to me for not being in better touch. Why would I ever fault her for that? But as I read her brief message, I thought about how every time I see a really great Halloween costume, or eat a bit of Nutella, or see a troop of Girl Scouts, I think of her mom. Nearly every time my little girl wants "the pink one", whatever the "one" is, I think of Hayley. I am grateful for the many memories I have of their family, because years later (and it has been literally years since I spent time with any of them now) they still make me smile. Their kindness still regularly gives my life joy, even though they aren't themselves a regular part of my life anymore.

Last night Doug bought a package of candy canes and I opened it today to give one to Kylie. The first candy cane of the year always makes me think of my dad. Right around this time of the year, he'd come home from Missoula one evening after being at the University or doing some shopping and tell Michael and I (and Eldon, when we were a bit younger), that while he was in town, he'd happened to run into Santa Clause. Santa had asked how we were doing, and Dad always reported that we'd been pretty good kids, and so Santa would send a few candy canes for us and make sure Dad reminded us to get him our Christmas lists. That "Santa candy cane" was usually the first one I got each year. Every time I pull out the first candy cane of the Christmas season, I think of my dad and feel happy all over, because now at 26 I can still picture in my mind, nearly as clearly as I saw it at 5, my dad's young, unwrinkled, mustachioed face, lit up happily as he delighted his children with his story of casual conversation with Santa and a little sugary treat. That has always been one of my favorite memories, but its one that actually means more to me now as an adult, because now I get it--now as a parent, I understand the joy you feel yourself when you can, in such a small and simple way, delight your children and bring a little magic into their lives. There's no feeling quite like that.

So I made a plan today. Some of the activities and treats that I know my kiddos love best, and some new ones I'm hoping they'll love, and where they'll fall in the now-til-Christmas schedule. Because life is full of twists and turns, hard losses, long trials and heavy burdens. But its also full of all kinds of little, wonderful moments: moments that can give us a little smile, a little joy, and consequently a little relief, even if just for a minute, from those trials and burdens. And now as I move a little further down the road of life and finally start to get enough distance to look back a little bit, I understand a better that those little moments are so important, not only for the joy that they give us at the time, but because they still have the power to bring us joy years after they happen. They make us smile, remembering how life has been good, and help us to refocus on the ways in which it still is.

Because it really is. For all its troubles, life is good.

My people

2010-11-28T12:37:00.000-08:00

So, since most of the people I see on a daily/weekly basis don't know my family, I get asked a lot of questions about them, or am asked to describe them. I think maybe I'll just start whipping out pictures like this:

"Yeah, they're pretty cool folk. Hardy. They like war games in the woods. In the snow. With their scraggly facial hair and fatigues."

This is actually a shot my sister got her son's 13th (13th?!) birthday party--they all went paintballin'. And, let's face it, in Montana there's just a whole lot of woods and snow to be had, right out the front door. Some days it makes me sad that my kids are missing out on all that great militia training and cold-weather hardiness.

(And click on the link and read my sister's blog about her son. I love that kid. And its nice to know [since I've been gone for more than half his life now] that he's still essentially the same kid he was at 5. Because that kid is awesome).

My thankfuls

2010-11-26T09:19:00.000-08:00

Parents: I learned so very much from mine and have been fortunate to be well-loved by them. The older I get, the more I realize I got from my dad: the love of solitude, a notebook and pen, a love for growing things (this arguably came from both sides, but Dad's the true hobbit), the subversive sense of humor. My mom has spent a lot of time and money traveling to visit us wherever we have lived so that my kids really know and adore their Yaya, despite the distance. I know I can depend on them and even as an adult that knowledge and stability lends a great deal of comfort to my life. And Doug's mom and step-dad have been wonderful surrogate parents and friends to me--I genuinely love spending time with them, and I'm well aware that that isn't how a lot of people feel about their in-laws. They are both wonderful grandparents to my kids, and spoil them rotten, as grandparents should. I'm tremendously grateful for the parents in my life.

EVERYBODY ELSE: I have a large and wonderful family, and so does my husband. This makes for quite the circle of love and support. In a world where it is increasingly difficult for people to find one or two individuals in their lives who really love them and can be depended on, Doug and I (and our children) have literally dozens. There are so many brothers, sisters, in-laws, uncles, aunts, nieces, nephews, cousins, grandparents that give so much joy and friendship to our lives and we love the fun and interesting individuals that each of them is.

Health: Being pregnant always makes me appreciate this one more. My normally awesome immune system goes on vacation while I incubate, and I catch every little bug that goes around. On top of that, everything starts to ache and not work right. It makes me very appreciative of my youth and general good health, which do make the rest of life so much easier to do. With three kids, we have only been to the the ER once, with a resulting few-day stay in the hospital. That's it. Other than that, its only been colds and the occasional flu and then, every once in a great while, an ear infection. That's pretty amazing.

Priesthood Blessings: On the rare occasion that one of the kids is miserable sick, Doug can always give them a blessing, and we have lots of wonderful Priesthood leaders in our lives who are unselfish with their time and happy to help him do so. A few weeks ago, Keilana was at the horrible-fever-rattling-breath-barking cough point and could not sit comfortably, much less sleep. She was given a blessing and, though she still had a miserable night, within an hour her breathing has eased enough that she was able to get some sleep. Similar circumstances have played out many times in our home (or in homes where Doug has been asked to assist) and I'm grateful that that power is a regular part of my life.

For my kids: I'm so grateful for Keilana's sunny temperament and helpful attitude, for the way her zealous excitement makes everything more fun (I'm pretty sure that she is the main reason I like Disneyland). I'm grateful for Dylan's alternative view of the world and his off-beat sense of. . . .everything, constantly making me see things in a way I never would've myself, and usually making me laugh. I'm grateful for Kylie's calm good-naturedness, her natural proclivity for affection and sharing, so that, her tremendous bossiness notwithstanding, she helps to add some calm to our busy home. I'm excited to see who our next daughter will be and how she'll fit with the others. Watching children grow and discover the world is definitely about the most fun and amazing thing I have in my life.

For my husband, and the relationship I have with him: I'm grateful for the way he provides for us, in every sense. Without me having to take a job outside our home, he provides us with a warm home and a good car and lots of good food and plenty of clothes and fun. He listens to the kids, and plays with them and cuddles with them and does everything a good dad should. He serves faithfully as the Priesthood leader in our home and is good at teaching the kids. I'm grateful that he and I are a team, that we're best friends, that we rarely ever miscommunicate, fail to communicate, or disagree on anything of true substance. And he's really, really funny.

There are way too many other things to list--and maybe that's the greatest blessing of all. I have so many things for which to be grateful, that its difficult to even begin to scratch the surface

Alright, California

2010-11-15T15:24:00.000-08:00

Its the middle of November.

I understand I live in a more moderate climate these days.

But I'm not asking for snow.

Snow would be nice,

but I know that's hard for you

and I'm a reasonable person.

All I'm asking

is that a week from Thanksgiving

I can wear a sweater comfortably.

I mean, for Pete's sake, highs in the 70s?

What is that?!

If it can't be winter,

can it at least be fall?

Sheesh!!

2010-11-11T18:53:00.000-08:00

I love good a cappella (probably because I love music and I love to sing--but my own voice and ear are quite weak). This is one of my favorite hymns, performed by BYU a cappella group "Vocal Point". Give it a listen if you have a few minutes.

Things that made me smile today:

2010-11-11T18:03:00.000-08:00

Seeing hubs snuggled up on the couch

with our little girl

Seeing little girl finally smile again

(she's pretty sick)

Realizing just how happy

a Gatorade

and a box of Mike and Ikes

can make my son.

Watching how much said boy

likes any song with a strong bass beat.

He's gonna be a drummer

or a bass player

or both.

When Dylan said,

"Do old people die sometimes?"

and I responded,

"Yes, like Clark died recently"

and he said,

"Yeah, and President Lincoln died"

Having Kylie and Doug

play tug-o-war,

with me.

He had my arms and torso,

she had a foot and an ankle.

Noticing that the flowers

Doug bought me

a week an a half ago

are still looking quite pretty.

Finding a good deal

on good shoes

that I really needed.

Feeling my baby kick

and remembering I am,

in fact,

pregnant.

Not just fat and miserable.

Adventures

2010-11-10T19:19:00.000-08:00

I'm so glad that he's mine

and I'm his

and that we're in this together.

I feel a bit discombobulated tonight--

that is to say

I don't really know how I feel.

It doesn't feel like much has changed yet

but I know that a whole lot will change,

must change,

relatively soon.

But whatever else changes,

this stays.

This never goes away,

never becomes unreliable

and never gets boring.

(and, no,

I really don't

have any recent pictures

of the two of us.

Either he's taking pictures,

or I'm taking pictures,

so we're never in the picture at the same time.

I'll try to remedy that).

Changes

2010-11-09T15:43:00.000-08:00

Tonight is the ending of an era. It may seem important only to a few, but important nonetheless. Scot, Doug's wonderful boss, officially announced his resignation on Friday, and at this evening's city council meeting an interim city manager will be named, to fill the post until the city council finds a permanent replacement.

Its been a privilege to be a little part of a vision that, though now much bigger than Scot alone, began and was realized largely because of his passion, faith and intense drive. He is one of those rare leaders whose passion and commitment is truly contagious, who has nearly as much concern for the lives and careers of those around him as he does for his own. He is a unique individual who chose a somewhat rocky and often lonely path, out of a desire to serve others, because he was able to see what could be. He has a generous heart, and many people have benefitted from his near tireless giving of himself. He will be sorely missed.

In the last few weeks, he has been publicly attacked and personally threatened, and even his children have had to deal with some harassment at school and in the community. It is unfortunate that sometimes people sink to the lesser aspects of human nature. It is especially unfortunate when children are involved. But the fact remains that those who have engaged in such behavior can't destroy anything of true value--the Townsends are good people, and so no matter what they decide to do or where they decide to go from here, they will be blessed. Those who have treated them unkindly will likely go on living mostly unhappy lives (people who behave in such a manner almost always do so because they are themselves unhappy).

When we moved to Lindsay 4 1/2 years ago, it seemed quite a bit different than it does now. I've seen many miracles, large and small, in that time. Many of those miracles came as a result of a humble, dedicated young bishop who said, "Let's open those doors; we'll fill this place up," and a visionary city manager who said, "Let's build it; let's find a way." I am more grateful than I can say that I am blessed to call both these men--and many, many of the other people who were absolutely instrumental in helping so many miracles happen here--my friends.

I wish I could express in any clear and meaningful way everything that has happened in our lives and around us since we came here. But there is too much, and my talents are inadequate to such a task. There has been so much opposition, in the forms of medical problems, antagonistic individuals, financial difficulties, family misunderstandings, and all kinds of other trials, and I have seen person after person and family after family rise to the occasion and make themselves and their little corner of the world a better place. I have seen unity in places it would seem most unlikely, and services large and small that were given and received in love and humility.

What this change in leadership will mean for us in particular is not quite clear yet. I'm sure it will be over time. But I have learned much in the last half-decade and I have tremendous faith in the Lord's ability and willingness to bless his children. Whatever happens, it has been amply proven to me that the Lord takes care of those who trust in him. Trials will come, sacrifices will sometimes have to be made, but the rewards reaped in the end seem always to me to be disproportionately large to what is asked. I am grateful to know that there is a plan--for myself, for my family and for all those that I love, even if I don't always know exactly what it is at any given moment.

Dream big, work hard, be patient and the possibilities are nearly endless.

Awesome Day

2010-11-05T16:11:00.000-07:00

I have had a nasty cold all week. No, not nasty. Exhausting. I've only been a little cloudy and stuffy, but I've been totally wiped-out tired. Its been hard to find motivation to do basic chores, let alone everything else. Yesterday, I went back to bed after I dropped Keilana at school and fell asleep by about 8:30 and then slept until 10. After I dropped Dylan off at preschool and put Kylie down for a nap, I slept again for nearly an hour and a half. I felt like such a bum.

I'm so glad I did it.

This morning, as soon as I had dropped off Keilana, Kylie and I got to work. We cleaned up the dog mess out on the front patio and backyard, raked and cleaned up all the leaves, threw out our Halloween pumpkins, cleaned up strangers' trash (the one thing I hate about living here is that for some reason people seem to believe that, since its located at a major intersection, my front patio is a public trash can. . .grrrrrrr!), scrubbed the car and cleaned the kitchen. Then we got ourselves cleaned and dressed, and folded a couple loads of laundry. Then I cleaned up the living room and bedrooms and folded a couple more loads of laundry. After I dropped Dylan at preschool, I had to take a break because my back was telling me it was time to do that, so I sat down and had a snack with Kylie.

But meanwhile, Doug got all the old carpet/padding that we ripped out of our garage (the friends we bought it from had had it carpeted in order to use as a playroom--nice, in theory) loaded up and hauled away. Then, he put together the garden wall on the patio. It still needs gravel and glue and capstones, and then fill dirt and top soil, but we're a big step closer to finally, finally growing things.

I love days that are productive. Visible progress makes me sssooo happy.

Which is good. Because the last few weeks have been so supremely weird (and what the last few weeks mean for the next few months/years) that I just don't know what to do with it, emotionally.

So clean patios and houses make me happy.

Now off to make breakfast for dinner and watch Toy Story 3. And then after the kids go to bed, hubby gets home from work and I will sit down and watch The Good Guys and eat Halloween-discount fun size Snickers with him. And I shall feel satisfied and relaxed.

Gratitude

2010-11-03T09:42:00.000-07:00

So I haven't written in two whole weeks. And for a few months before that, let's face it, most of my writing hasn't been terribly interesting or exciting.

Some of this is due to the mental and physical fatigue that's bound to occur when you're raising three busy kids while incubating a fourth. But a lot of it is just keeping my thoughts to myself.

Its not that there hasn't been plenty going on. Its not that I haven't had quite a few interesting insights, conversations and revelations. I just don't know how to share most of them, or if I even can. I just feel like keeping them to myself for now. There is a tendency in today's world for over-sharing. There are thoughts I've tried very hard to communicate because I think they can serve a purpose beyond myself, but there's always that wariness about giving too much away. Too many people do that, and often I think its done with little thought to the consequences that may follow--not only for themselves, but for others.

October was a very, very good month for us. I got out more in October than in the previous six months combined. We went on two all-evening child-free dates in one month! That's more dates than we often have in 10 months. But it was also a very stressful, tense month for us and for many of the people we care most about. Lindsay has been a contentious place the last several weeks, and so we needed all the fun, I think, to help maintain some sanity in the midst of the opposition and tension. There had to be some balance.

I wasn't sure I wanted to live in Lindsay when I first got here. Now I am so in love with my friends, my ward, the life we have most of the time, that it's hard to imagine having made any other choice. I know there were many good reasons we came here, not all of which we could've possibly known when we made the decision. I'm grateful that this is where our life has brought us. In the midst of the vitriol and opposition, I looked around at those who were there to say "thank you" to many others for the hard work they've done; I saw how many people were willing to face an ugly confrontation in order to stand by their friends; I realized that, though we sometimes lose sight of it when climbing a hard hill, most people are still basically good and decent and courageous.

I start my month of Thanksgiving with a fervent prayer of gratitude for the friends that the Lord has placed in my life, and how they have shown me how to be the person I want to be simply by being the people that they are. I am truly blessed.

Stolen Thoughts

2010-10-20T13:17:00.000-07:00

A few things running through my mind today:

It gives me wonder great as my content

To see you here before me. O my soul's joy,

If after every tempest come such calms. . .

My soul hath her content so absolute

That not another comfort like to this

Succeeds in unknown fate.

~Shakespeare

I'm so very grateful for the blessing of loving companionship. Whatever any given day may bring, I always end the day in the presence of my best friend. Its nothing grand, nothing extraordinary, but its real, its reliable and its everything I need. I sometimes think how wonderfully content Adam and Eve must have been with each other to be able to live so long with the presence and companionship of only each other. What wonderful friends they must have been.

Turn me loose, set me free

somewhere in the middle of Montana

~Merle Haggard

Its not always feasible, but sometimes I wish I could--just for a moment--disappear to the Missions, to the wide, open space, somewhere far from here. Just run away, take a deep breath of fresh air and be away from people.

We will have disappointments and discouragement--that is part of life. But if we will have faith, our setbacks will be but a moment, and success will come out of seeming failures. Our Heavenly Father can accomplish miracles through each of us if we will but place our confidence and trust in Him.

~Ezra Taft Benson

Life is hard. It often feels like opposition is everywhere. But some sources of strength truly are endless. The Lord promises happy endings, and he delivers--its just that we sometimes see an "ending" where in reality there is merely a plot twist. Be patient. Be obedient. The Lord will make it alright in the end. If its not alright, its not the end. The Lord's timetable is eternal. Ours tends to be weekly. We are loved, more deeply, purely and completely than we can possibly understand right now.

Peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine affliction shall be but a small moment. . .thy friends do stand by thee, and they shall hail thee again with warm hearts and friendly hands.

~D&C 121:7,9

Be of a good courage

2010-10-19T16:02:00.000-07:00

Joshua the prophet had a big job. After Moses died, he had a huge pair of shoes to fill: he had to lead the Israelites to the promised land, fight some very literal battles, and help to build a new nation. The Lord knew there would be troubles, and he knew the adversary would be hard at work, and so he commanded Joshua, "Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest."

The harder we try to do good, to actively discover and apply the Lord's will, the harder the adversary will press down on us. The Lord has told us that contention is of the Devil, and so it is that sometimes the adversary pursues his purposes through the bullying acts of other people: threats, intimidation, lies and anger. We needn't strike back in his way. We need only stand courageously for truth and the Lord is on our side.

When you find yourself weighed down by the stress of opposing forces, simply ask yourself, "Have I tried to do the right thing? Have I been striving to be faithful and obedient?" If the answer is "yes", the Lord's promise is as true for you as it was for Joshua. Do not be intimidated by the tactics of the adversary; be strong and of a good courage, because the Lord blesses and protects those who serve him faithfully.

"Evil is powerless if the good are unafraid." ~Ronald Reagan

Grandma Lessons

2010-10-15T18:30:00.000-07:00

Valerie Umphrey, Lettie Gilbert, Keilana Clark, Becky Clark

August 2004

Been thinking about my grandma a lot lately. She'll have been gone six years next month. She could always calm me down when life was stressful--probably because she was a woman who had lived through a lot of stresses and managed to find a lot of calm in the middle of it all. And because no one in life has ever seemed to love me as effortlessly and completely as she did. And that's saying a lot, because I've been blessed to be well-loved by a lot of good people in life. But nobody can love quite the same way as a grandma. Some things I learned from watching her.

Sure, life is tough. But you're tougher. Whining or complaining is a waste of time. If you've got food in your belly, clothes on your back and a warm place to sleep, you aren't poor; you should always be grateful for what you have, otherwise you're wasting your blessings. Someday you'll laugh about this; the sooner, the better. You are responsible for your actions and the consequences that follow them. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is ever more important than family. Refuse to be taken advantage of. Love unconditionally, but hold people accountable. Everything is more fun with a few kids in tow. There's always someone who could use your help, so look around, figure out what needs to be done, and get to work. Your husband should be your best friend and someone you respect and have fun with. Discipline is more about consistency and clear expectations than about punishment. But when you've failed to meet the clear expectations, punishment will be fair and swift. Hard work is worth doing, and it always comes before playing. But playing is pretty important, too. A good lightening storm or the Northern Lights are far more important than a warm bed and a little lost sleep. Traveling is one of life's great pleasures, but the most important part of any trip is coming home to the Missions. A good fire makes any home cozier. There are few things better than knowing you got a great deal. An organ is a perfectly reasonable thing to buy at a yard sale. Disneyland is pretty great and you should go if you get a chance, but the happiest place on earth is anywhere that a grandma is surrounded by her grandkids. Patience brings peace. A woman can never have too many shoes. Poking a hole in the bottom of a chocolate is the best way to figure out what the filling is. Never be wasteful-yogurt cups make pretty good kiddy cups and old butter tubs are great for sorting your knickknacks and whatnots. Moms love having things like their little girls' eyeglasses from 5th grade--even if that little girl is over 60. Meat should always be well done, and a little half and half or gravy can make just about anything better. Memorial Day decorations must be left on graves the Saturday before Memorial Day, so that when everyone else comes to decorate graves, yours will already be there looking beautiful. Lilacs and peonies make great bouquets. Walking and flower picking are two of life's great pleasures. Children should be free to explore, so long as they check in now and then. There's nothing wrong with letting the horse hang out in the front yard with you for the afternoon--he's a pet, after all. Tuna fish sandwiches and red Kool-Aid make a fine summer afternoon lunch. Christmas is the best holiday. Halloween is a close second. Grandkids are for spoiling.

Oh, put me in my place

2010-10-14T10:51:00.001-07:00

So I have to get a TB skin test done so that I can volunteer at Dylan's school, but the office in town isn't able to do it because I'm pregnant. So I had to get a lab slip from my midwife, and the lab next door to her office isn't able to do it either, so after driving to Visalia to her office I then had to hop on 198 and drive across to Visalia to a clinic I've never been to, in an area I'm not familiar with. I should also mention that I am tremendously bad at navigating and am quite easily turned around and lost.

So I'm getting irritated and frustrated about having to do this running around for something so simple to begin with, and then on top of that, the last direction on my iPhone didn't make sense and I'm not seeing the lab. Dylan tried to ask me for something (I'm pretty sure it had something to do with McDonald's) and I snapped, "Dylan, be quiet for a minute! I can't find the freaking office!!"

So when I looked at the map and finally figured out that the phone hadn't told me which direction to turn and consequently I had gone the wrong way down the street, I found it quite easily. As I turned into the parking lot, Dylan asked cheerfully, "Mom, is this the Freaking Office?"

*blushing*

I guess I should just be grateful that my six-year-old daughter thinks that "freaking/frickin", "dangit", "heck" and "oh my gosh" are bad words. At least I trained one well. My impulse control isn't great when I'm pregnant.

2010-10-12T13:02:00.000-07:00

So far today I have:

cleaned my whole house

(picked everything up,

mopped floors

vacuumed,

unpacked and put away everything

from our weekend trip)

sorted all the laundry

and have the first load done

and two more in the machines,

fed three kids breakfast

and two kids lunch,

took Dylan to school,

downloaded the photos from our quick trip,

bathed my stinky, dirty dog,

put Kylie down for a nap

and called my grandma,

who seems to be doing pretty well

considering the month she's had.

Now if only I could muster the energy

to sort and edit and post pictures.

We'll see if I get there.

But I'm taking a break

while the monster sleeps!

Just so you know. . .

2010-10-09T16:00:00.001-07:00

I've had a pretty fabulous weekend. Yesterday, just as I dropped Dylan off for preschool and was thus down to one child for a few hours, a good friend texted me and said they were meeting some of our other good friends for lunch and asked if we wanted to come along. So the six of us spent two hours hanging out and eating delicious pizza and laughing at our toddlers. You have no idea how awesome my friends are--you would love them. I know you would, because everyone loves them. I'm just very grateful that they love me. It was a great "break" and I needed the conversation.

After I picked up the older two from school, we made a Target run, and who doesn't love Target? I mostly just had to pick up a few essentials, but I also scored a pair of great shoes for $9, and I so needed shoes.

The kids and I spent the evening playing hard at McDermont with some friends, so that everyone was good and worn out by the time we got our customary Friday night slushies.

This morning we headed out and did a little bit of geo-cacheing close to home. We bought the kids delicious, unhealthy junk for lunch and found a couple of caches out at Kaweah Oaks Preserve. I think Keilana has found a new passion, and her daddy is very glad--I see many cacheing adventures in our future. But let me tell you, geo cacheing at Kaweah Oaks with three kids 6 & under is like combining a jungle adventure with a treasure hunt--in other words, pure magic. We had to do a bit of bush whacking to get to the first one we found, but for Keilana and Kylie that seemed to just add to the fun (and it didn't slow Dylan much).

But what actually struck me about all this as I watched Doug and Keilana race back to the car this afternoon (she kicked his booty in that race, by the way), was how very un-extraordinary all of this was. Enjoying the company of great people, watching my kids run and jump and squeal with wild abandon, soaking in the wonderfulness of my husband playing with them, giggling with them, sharing their excitement--that's just my every day life. Its a good one.

Its been a while

2010-10-05T13:16:00.000-07:00

but we're still here. We're quite busy, and we're having lots of fun, dancing:

and playing:

and posing:

(Yes, I know Dylan's hair is atrocious. I cut it this morning.)

Ah, those days. . .

2010-09-21T21:24:00.001-07:00

Remember when he was bald and chubby

and content

and I couldn't get enough of him?

*Sigh*

We're working on it.

We'd all be happier if he'd just eat his dinner.

Hinges

Dylan's perspective

I Blinked Again

New Year?

Home

2011

Sunshine

Perfect

White Christmas

Christmas talk

Christmas Countdown

Thankfuls

Parting shot

Missing auntie manda already

Saying goodbye

For the record. . .

My sisters are amazing

Be Still

On the other hand

Priorities

Monologuin'

Busy

Starting Over

Conundrum

Making Plans

Silver Lining

Scatter Sunshine

I almost died laughing

Easy Peasy Keira

Just Keep Moving

Makin' wishes

Honesty

A well-rounded education. . .

Not Exactly Mozart

Stir Crazy!

Now what?

*happy sigh*

Responsibility, Forgiveness, Pride

Firsts

All the little pieces

Came across this today.. .

Isn't it amazing

Priorities

Learning Curve

Keira Bell

Flowrider

Lucky

Summer

Almost a decade

Blessings

Catch-22

Happy Belated Mother's Day

Escape

Companions

Family Moments

Spring

Life's tough; get a helmet.

Happy

Keira

On having a houseful of young children

Mixed signals

Waiting. . .

Megamind!

Good news and fun

Cars

Not As the World Giveth

Good Stuff

Define "Normal"

Almost

35 weeks

Chatting with Grandma

Changes and support

First Step

Of course

Grateful

Puzzled

Christmas, pictures, jumbled thoughts

The Christmas Spirit

More Smiles Today

Early Learning

happy sigh