Come What May and Love It

Book blog

2010-08-08T19:33:00.001-07:00

no, I am not updating this blog today. I haven't actually decided what I am going to do with this blog. I might go back to monthly emails to friends and family who want to receive them, simply because I was blogging constantly in my head, like I was living through my blog and making my life appear how I wanted to in my blog. Plus, I think I am smashingly funny, of course, and I try to make myself as funny as possible in my blog.

Hmmm

Anyway, I am going to continue blogging about books. I have a new post up on

mayeverywordtell.blogspot.com

please recommend this blog to anyone who loves to read or who wants to love to read. I have to read so many books right now for my master's degree, it is a wonderful thing to be able to recommend the best of what I read to anyone interested!

talk to you all soon, I hope!

linds

Bear Den

2010-06-27T16:09:00.000-07:00

So we just went on the best family vacation ever—to Bear Den Campground and Tweetsie Mountain Railroad. I have sometimes heard Tweetsie Mountain Railroad derided for being lame and childish, but we think it is awesome. The best place ever for young kids. There's a giant train, a magic show, song and dance shows, a clogging show (and who sees clogging shows nowadays!), tons of rides, a petting zoo, a place to mine for gems (which we never do because it is too ridiculously expensive).

Our kids love it! Even Mary, who this time, for the first time, claimed she was too big to dance in the Porter and Hopper Show, but did it anyway.

At Bear Den we stay in the smallest little cabin ever, but it has a kitchen and a bathroom, and Sam cooks a lot despite the fact that he cannot stand straight up in the kitchen. The best part of the cabin is the screened in porch. I sat out there late at night and wrote (and occasionally listened to some of the RVers get in loud and obnoxious fights; there is an RV culture which can be great and not so great). But for the most part it was beautiful. And cool! So much cooler than the sauna we live in right now. Plus, there were way fewer mosquitoes.

The second day we were there proved to be our one day of trauma. We set out for a family hike, having realized just minutes before that we didn't bring our hiking backpack (which was probably too small anyway) and so we would have to carry Flanny or go very, very slow.

To our surprise, Calvin, Mary and Lucy bolted ahead (this was a surprise because Calvin and Mary hate to hike and complained the whole way to the trailhead). After a few minutes, I decided I'd better catch up to them. The trail is a good one, but there are branches to different sites, and they are not well-marked. Shaemus wanted to come with me, which slowed me down quite a bit. Sam was left behind to walk with Flanny. (Apparently, Flannery preferred to do her own hiking and not be carried, but she was fascinated by everything she saw and wanted to examine everything for minutes at a time: roots, bugs, dirt, leaves. Sam said progress was very, very slow.)

Eventually, the three oldest did stop and wait for Shaemus and me to catch up. Then the five of us progressed together. It was very, very fun, but when we got to the waterfall, I got a little nervous. Everything was slippery, and there were rocks that looked unstable everywhere. Calvin already had his shoes off, and Shaemus was taking his off, so when the girls said they wanted to go back, I waved them on and focused on preventing the boys from breaking any ankles by barking directions and stabilizing them when they started to fall.

After a few minutes of this, I remembered all those unmarked paths and began to doubt that Mary and Lucy could find there way back without help. I had seen them go down the wrong road on the campground several times, even though they traveled it many, many times before.

I hurried the boys out of the water, and tried to help them squish into their shoes. Then I tried to urge them up a very, very steep trail, a ridiculously steep trail that Shaemus had to crawl up part of the way. (I'd forgotten that they slid down these trails on their bottoms for the most part.)

Shaemus was wearing out, and our progress was slow, slow, slow. I grew more and more anxious as we went on: no Mary, no Lucy, no Sam, no Flannery. I tried to listen to the spirit at this moment, and it was telling me not to panic, so I didn't completely panic, and say, try to pick Shaemus and Calvin up (one in each arm) and run full speed down the trail which would have ended in a heart attack and broken bones and possibly death.

But I was definitely worried.

By the time we got to the campground, I told Calvin to run ahead and check the cabin to see if the girls were there.

Thank goodness, they were, although they'd only gotten there minutes before, because they HAD taken a wrong path, and at some point decided they better try another way. A miracle.

But Sam and Flannery were missing and so was the van. Cell phones weren't working too hot, but I managed to call Sam and shout his name, and he managed to guess that we were all back at the cabin waiting for him.

When he arrived, he looked very, very tired. Unbeknownst to any of us, he had hiked most of the way, carrying Flannery eventually because he grew tired of root examination, and had shouted out and called our names again and again and again.

We didn't hear him of course, because who hears loud screams in the middle of the wilderness. We don't, obviously, so then he thought we'd gone the wrong way, and he ran down the trail carrying Flannery like a football (I'm imagining this part and possibly exaggerating, but it makes for a funny picture), and got in the van and drove to where he thought the other main trail came out. Then he hiked (again carrying Flannery like a football, or maybe on his hip; okay, probably on his hip) up the other trail a ways, searching for us, shouting our names, and generally getting completely freaked out. Until I called.

It never occurred to him that I might have been separated from Mary and Lucy. He was panicking and he thought we were all together. (I need not point out that this was a little depressing; he obviously has very little faith in my navigational skills to be panicking quite so much that his wife and four children had been hiking by themselves for an hour or so).

Anyway, that was our adventure. Along with Flannery trying to crawl out of the little kids rides while they were moving. That was a little scary, watching the boats float by in the water and watching your daughter standing up and trying to stick a leg out of the boat. Luckily, the boat was going slow enough, I could just jog along side and stuff her back in, which didn't make the ride attendant very happy, but better me than him.

Anyway—pictures!

Okay-----I can't find the camera, but I will go on a hunt. As soon as I get the kids down. And clean up the sugar and salt that is all over the kitchen floor from their taste testing party.

Very soon!

Stop! Stop growing up now!

2010-05-23T17:59:00.001-07:00

Shaemus had a birthday on Friday. He turned four. I love that boy so much. He has been obsessed with his birthday and what he is getting for his birthday for a month. He is now obsessed with what he is getting for his next birthday. The last time he told me, "All I want for my next birthday is a box. A box with a truck and tools and crayons and a pirate ship and a pineapple vest (?). That's all I want."

I do not want him to grow up.

I do not want Flannery to stop being the sweetest little two year old who can't wait to say sorry after she hits me. And then say, "Your welcome."

I do not want Calvin to stop wanting to snuggle or have me read books to him in bed. And then scratch his bottom and pretend to wipe it on me. (Don't worry. I ALWAYS make him wash his hands after that. And then I make him go back and use soap.)

I do not want Lucy to stop laughing hysterically at the silliest things. She was really mad today about something and she said, "Sop it Staemus!" which made her stop being mad (for a few minutes) and made the rest of us laugh because her eyes got huge, and her face went long and she looked like a cartoon character.

The other day, Lucy was explaining about how she wore her Alice and Wonderland dress her Nanna made for her to school for Culture Day. She told everyone she was a Mormon and she was wearing a pioneer dress, because that was part of her culture (though whether or not Pioneers wore bright blue dresses like that is questionable).

Mary started to cry. "You have no fear, Lucy! You aren't embarrassed about anything."

And I was right with Mary. I would never have done that in elementary school. I would never do that now. Lucy is more courageous than I am.

And Mary. I don't want her to grow up and be embarrassed to snuggle with me in public. (Okay, she's a little embarrassed now. And she is even more embarrassed of being affectionate with Sam for some reason we can't figure out, but she still does it. And at home, she can't get enough hugs and kisses.)

I don't want my kids to grow up. It's not that I don't look forward to them being teenagers and having lives of their own. But it will be over. I don't remember a lot about Mary's babyhood, and less about Lucy's. Poor Calvin is a total blank until he is at least three. Shaemus, I remember more of, I don't know why, and of course, I remember Flannery's. But that is now. And I don't scrapbook. At all.

All I have to say is, they better have movies of earth up in heaven. I will want to watch them much more often than say, Star Wars.

And I have to have at least one more child. Because I need to name a son Shroder or a daughter Saffron. I must.

Although, thank goodness I write books. I get to name people all the time.

And perhaps one day, I will be able to create a world of my own (not just in books) and come up with its name, which will probably be the best part of the whole thing.

Blessings!

2010-05-16T05:29:00.000-07:00

First of all, thanks for the advice on the eczema. Isn't my arm attractive! Try to ignore the hair, and you can see all the red bubbles and sores. My pediatrician brother-in-law sent in a prescription for derma smooth, a steroid filled oil. I wasn't too excited about the steroid thing, but it's been five days and the bumps are receding. The itching isn't going away, but my arms are looking better. Thank you so much Adam! Last night, in the middle of the night when my right hand was on FIRE! I got some ice out of the freezer and slept with it on my hand and I discovered that helps too.

I do need to figure out why my body is doing this if possible, but I think it is because I've never had an allergy, and it is just my turn. I also think it is because my hips are getting better. Yes, my SMUPH (stupid messed-up pregnancy hips) are finally, finally getting better. I can sleep on my stomach again, and I can stand for minutes at a time without my back and pelvis hurting. My hips aren't popping so much, and overall, everything feels better. And its because of jogging! I can hardly believe it. As soon as I started running, things started getting better and better and better until they hardly hurt anymore. (I was exercising before—pilates, aerobics, walking, but it is the running that is working! So I'd better start to love it!)

Of course, one night this past week, my hips were a little sore, and I noticed that on that night, my eczema wasn't bothering me so much. I guess we can only focus on one pain at a time.

So, blessings! I never thought my hips would ever get better. This means future children are a possibility! This means I might not have to have hip replacement surgery which one doctor assured me I would.

I'll take the eczema. Apparently, you can't cure it, but you can control it. Which means I'm finally going to have to pay attention to my skin.

(I have this fear of lotion. I've always been worried my body would get addicted to needing moisturizer, and then I'd be camping somewhere and not have any moisturizer and be in agony. Because I camp so much, you see. It's very logical.)

We are getting more and more anxious to move closer to family, though. If you know of any job openings in Wyoming or Montana (Anywhere in the mountain west where life is slow and cheap, let us know. The problem is, Sam works in affordable housing, and affordable housing usually isn't an issue in those areas. Or those states, actually.) Our goal is to move by 2012.

One more sad note: Mary has a good friend who lives across the street from us. We've just become aware that her divorced mother is sleeping with someone in their home on a regular basis. She just does it when her daughter is staying with her dad, but Sam and I have talked and talked and talked about it, and just decided we don't feel comfortable sending Mary over to a home where that is happening on a regular basis. Also, her older fifteen-year old sister has an eighteen-year old boyfriend that Mary's friend is obsessed with, which makes us uncomfortable too. Fourth grade is too young to be obsessed with boyfriends.

So how does Mary do it? How does she say, "We can play over here, but I can't play at your house because your mom sleeps with people?"

I hate this! Why do people have to do that? Why don't more women have more respect for themselves! This mom shows the lack of respect she has for herself in the way she dresses and acts around men, and it drives me crazy, because she is an intelligent, beautiful person who doesn't need to show off her body to find happiness. Or men, I hope.

But this is life. And I guess this is what the scriptures call, "Fearing your neighbor" because I've never understood what that meant until now.

I am becoming less and less excited about Middle School looming in the future.

Hope you all have a wonderful Sabbath!

Help!

2010-05-09T17:46:00.001-07:00

Okay, I feel bad taking up a mother's day post on this, but I have to. And I would have taken pictures of it but our camera battery was out. You should probably be glad about this. It is disgusting.

And it is called eczema.

It is awful. It is some weird skin allergy—little bumps filled with itchy clear fluid.

See what happened was this: I have been dreading summer. I don't like summers here. I love winter here (except I would like some snow), I love spring here, I love fall here. I do not—I repeat—like summer here.

One--it is too hot.

Two--it is too humid.

Three--there are too many mosquitoes.

Anyone who knows me knows how much I complain about mosquitoes here. But when you are on a nice mother's day walk, and they are floating around your arm and your face and your hands the entire time, no matter what you are doing, and you can't seem to get away from them, and they are swarming you like black striped devils, waiting to stab your skin and drink your precious blood...well. It's not fun.

I have been dreading summer more than ever this year.

So, I think my body had an allergic reaction to summer. The second it got really hot here, I got covered in red, itchy bumps: eczema. My arms are bright red and on fire. I look like I have some horrible rash that might be contagious. (It is not!) But it is all over my hands, and my neck, and it is starting on my face.

At night, I can't sleep because my arms are on fire. All I want to do is scratch, but when you scratch you make it worse.

I know this is partially mental. I know I have been dreading summer so much, my skin has just completely wigged out when it has finally arrived.

Nevertheless--

Does anyone have any ideas on how to combat it? Have any of you dealt with eczema on a large scale. Or a small scale? Or any scale at all?

I will leave you now, desperate to find some form of relief: ice packs. Cutting off my arms. Whatever works. (Just kidding. I shouldn't joke about that. Or maybe I should. My kids keep looking at my arms and going, "Gross, Mom. Ick. Am I going to get eczema? Look, look, is this eczema?" And it isn't.)

By the way, Sam has started Daddy Walks each morning. Monday through Friday he takes one child on a walk from 6:30am from 7:00am. Mary wanted to play basketball for her walk. Lucy wanted to learn how to ride a bike. (And yes, she is eight and still can't ride. But she is very, very afraid of any kind of pain. We are skeptical that it will EVER work.) Calvin wanted to search for bugs and talk about bugs. Shaemus wanted to play soccer. Flannery wanted to play with fire hydrants.

Daddy walks are awesome!

Happy Mother's Day!

underestimating and overestimating

2010-05-02T17:15:00.000-07:00

It is so easy to underestimate your kids.

Mary has been saying, "Whatever," a lot lately, and we decided it needed to stop. It just wasn't nice, and, even though I knew she was picking it up at school, it was becoming a habit. So Sam and I decided no one in our family could say "Whatever" anymore or "duh."

Well, the other day, Mary was tired. She had a rough viola lesson (hard time paying attention), and school was long, and she was hot and through for the day. She and I were driving home from her lesson alone when I said something to her and she said, "Whatever."

And then she started to cry.

"It's okay, Mary," I said. "I'm not going to punish you. [usually punishment is a chore around the house] I know you're just tired."

She cried harder. "That's not why I'm crying!" she sobbed. "I don't know why I said that! I don't want to say that. I really don't!" And she was so sincere. This took me completely by surprise. Whenever we'd talked about this before, she'd practically rolled her eyes, and I didn't think she cared much about the problem. Not enough for me, anyway. But here she was, caring very much and making me realize how truly sensitive and spiritual she is, even when she doesn't show it.

The other day, we were having family home evening, and we were talking about gratitude. I try not to turn FHE lessons into mini-lectures, but it was my turn for the lesson and I sort of started to go crazy. See the truth is, I was tired of my kids not taking care of their things. I was also tired of feeling guilty for not teaching them to take care of their things as well as I should. And I was too tired to try and start over and teach them, so I was guilt tripping them in the middle of an FHE lesson.

"For example," I began. "There are kids all over the world who don't have shoes. And you guys have tons and tons of shoes. And you lose them all the time! Don't you think it would be showing gratitude for your shoes if you would put them away in the closet when you got home? (A bit of a stretch. It would be showing obedience and gratitude to their parents perhaps, but to their shoes? I don't know.)

Calvin started to cry. Sam gave me a little look that said, you are going too heavy. The reason Calvin started to cry was that he always loses his shoes. Always. He is the man without shoes. He is the man who has had to come to church in two different crocs. (And they were on the wrong foot.) He is the man who sometimes has to wear a pair of crocs to school that are four sizes too big, because for some reason, those are the only shoes he never loses.

He knew I was talking to him. I was really talking to everyone, but mostly talking to him. And he felt so bad about it.

A serious case of underestimating my kids spiritual sensitivity.

And one case of overestimating.

So this was Lucy's first fast Sunday since being baptized. Mary had never really successfully fasted. And we'd never really made her. But today I was determined to be distracting and encouraging and do everything I could to help both of the girls have their first wonderful fast Sunday.

Well.

Mary did it! She did slip up once with a little drink of water and once with a bite of cereal, but she really skipped breakfast and lunch and really didn't complain (And she was in a great and helpful mood the rest of the day, I think as a result.)

Poor Lucy did it too. But poor Lucy got very, very sick. They pulled me out of relief society because her stomach was hurting. I gave her some water and a few pretzels we had after Flannery's attack-of-the-killer-pretzel-bag-show she puts on in Sacrament meeting. (No one ever wants to sit in our bench after we are through with it. And pretzels are the least messy thing I've found.)

On the way home from church, Lucy looked like she might die. She threw up all over the house. She curled up in a ball on the couch and slept away most of the evening.

Lucy will not be skipping two meals in a row like that for some time. We are going to have to try something different for her with fasting.

And below: some totally random pictures!

Best friends—and best WWF wrestlers. (It is WWF isn't it? Does that thing still exist?)

An early morning cello rehearsal with an audience and a blanket.

Baby birds in a nest in the corner of our porch. That gross stuff all around is poop, but still.

Flannery and her boyfriend. Isn't he the cutest little Old Man baby you've ever seen? And the best thing ever is that he generally says, "Baaah!"

Patience

2010-04-25T06:38:00.000-07:00

First of all, thanks for the running tips and commiseration. I tried running on my toes, and guess what! My calves didn't hurt. Not a speck. I even started running fast enough that I got a side ache. But then, when I got home, my hips hurt so badly I could hardly walk. Stupid Messed Up Pregnancy Hips, which I am now going to refer to as SMUPH. It will make me feel better, at least.

So I guess it's back to burning calves.

I have been thinking a lot about patience this week. Flannery exhibits a great deal of patience as she learns how to talk, and now she is being rewarded with a new phrase a day. (I wanna go potty [which I ignore completely because she just turned two and would be eaten by the toilet, not to mention her brothers and their less than careful toilet habits]; I want toast; I want to go go; Look mama, it's raining) She now prays and is so excited to be the one to say the prayers. The kids think it is so funny that whenever we prompt her: Heavenly Father, she says ebenly daddy.

Anyway, I know sometimes it seems like two year olds have no patience, but if you really think about their lives and all they are learning to do, they really do.

More than me anyway. I've been so desperate to get everything out of my program while I'm in it, that my patience with myself and all I need to learn sometimes wears thin. I want to work my tail off and be the greatest writer in the world right now!

But sometimes working my tail off is actually detrimental. Sometimes my brain shuts down. The spirit is telling me I need to do something else, or maybe the spirit is telling me I need to stop writing that scene and change directions, or maybe I just need to go make dinner, but I, with my lack of patience, always say: "No! I will push through this and keep writing. It doesn't matter that I've already written for three hours, I will write for one hour more. I will! And I will be great!"

And then what I write in that one hour is so bad I have to redo it all the next day, if I have the courage to push the delete button (which I'm getting good at).

Instead, I ought to focus on the progress I've made. And I have. I have learned so much. My writer's group here always tells me how much better each submission gets each month, so I ought to see I'm making good headway.

PATIENCE! There is time enough and to spare, and yet it feels like there is so little time for almost anything.

But conference was so good, and the talks on mothers and motherhood were so incredible, I'm seeing that role differently too. Teaching, teaching, teaching. I'm trying so hard to think of myself as a 24hour full-time teacher of my children. I'm trying so hard to not look around at the mess and get frustrated and bellow when I want their help cleaning up, instead of teaching them the concepts of work and responsibility and putting in your share (and patience).

You aren't supposed to use adverbs when you write (did you know that. Seriously.), (nor are you supposed to use parenthesese (especially when you can't spell it)), but I am going to throw out some adverbs here.

I gratefully acknowledge how wimpy and weak I am and how much I need patience. I think when I finally, finally, finally gain patience, I will be dead, but I'm going to try really, really, really hard while I'm here. And I'll have to be patient with that.

Running

2010-04-18T06:38:00.000-07:00

So I've started running again. (I've been walking for awhile now, but it sometimes hurts my pregnancy-messed-up hips. Running seems to help them.) I still hate it. I've always hated it. I never get far before my calves start burning like mad. My lungs don't hurt, nothing else hurts, but if feels like someone has a vice right on my calf muscle and they are squeezing, squeezing, squeezing till I can't take it anymore.

It occurred to me the other day that maybe not everyone experiences this regular pain. I asked Sam what hurts him first when he goes running. He said his thighs and then his lungs. He suggested maybe I run on my toes.

I found this very insulting. I do NOT run on my toes. How lame is that? I even took jogging in college, and he filmed our legs running (which stands out in my memory as one of the most embarrassing experiences of my life, by the way). He never said, see this girl. She runs on her toes.

But then I tried it. And my calfs didn't hurt as much. But then my knees started hurting.

So I want some advice or some commiseration. Either one.

On another note--

We spontaneously got rid of tons of extra clothes (including all our baby clothes! Eep! If we have another baby, he'll have to be styling in new digs) and we moved around rooms and put Flannery in a big girl bed. All by herself.

At naptime she cried for one hour. She never fell asleep.

At bedtime, she cried for a little bit, and then I heard her moving around, pushing her toys to and fro. At one point I heard her singing, so I opened the door. She was sitting on the bed with her wheels on the bus. She had moved all of her toy baskets to the foot of her bed. Everything was all gathered together.

"Flanny, it's time for bed," I told her. "You need to go lay down on your pillow."

"Okay, Momma," she said. "Bye, bye. Bye, bye Mamma."

Her way of saying, get out of here, Mom, so I can do my thing.

I also saw her toss someone else's nursery snack on the floor today in a fit of tired anger.

Goldfish and apple jacks went flying.

You know you are getting old when this doesn't even embarrass you and you don't even attempt to discipline a two-year old because you know it is pointless. (A friend of mine with three young kids has a child Flannery's exact age. She told me she's been putting him in time out for several months now whenever he hits. Flanny hits everybody all the time. I can't tell you how many times she has whacked my glasses off my face. Painfully. She has never once been in time out. In fact, I have a hard time not laughing. We all do. Yet, I am sure Mary and Lucy and maybe even Calvin had timeouts at their age.

Maybe we shouldn't have any more kids! My mom always worries that later kids get neglected. I actually think it is the older kids we should be worried about for being too damaged by two-year old time outs!

By the way, Congratulations Mom on being nominated for Teacher of the Year in her school! It's her second time. A few years ago, she was chosen as Teacher of the Year for her entire district!

Have a great week!

Funny and Focus

2010-04-11T06:10:00.000-07:00

Last week, Shaemus ran down the stairs completely naked and shouted to everyone, particularly to Mary who was sitting at the piano right across from the stairs, the following words: "The only person who can see my naked bum is Flannery! Okay, Mary? Flannery, just Flannery." Mary looked at buck naked Shaemus and shrugged and said, "Okay." Then Shaemus ran back up the stairs, his little naked cheeks flapping from his great speed.

I was lucky enough to observe it all.

Flannery's new trick is to climb up onto the counters (any counters) and toss everything out of the cupboards. Everything. The fish rocks that go in our empty aquarium. Card games. Powdered sugar. Powdered sugar after she opens the bag and dumps it all out. Then she dumps the empty bag on the ground. Powdered sugar is not as easy to clean up as flour. I thought it was flour at first glance and began attacking it accordingly. Then I realized the air was smelling a little too sweet. And everything—the floor, my hands, my feet, my clothes, Flannery—was sticky. The horrible thing is, I keep letting her do it (dumping things out of the cupboards. I have hidden the powdered sugar) even though I have to clean up afterwards. It entertains her for hours. She is also obsessed with measuring cups of all shapes and sizes.

Mary told me yesterday (as I was trying to pay more attention to her after fabulous general conference!) that she wants an ipod. We discussed this and I realized she didn't really know what an ipod was, but her friend Valerie has one, so she wants one too. I told her they cost $200.00, (this is probably not true anymore, but I know that's what they cost when they came out. Sam and I do not have ipods, and I am not entirely sure what they do myself, except you can listen to music on them.) and she would have to earn the money herself. Since she doesn't earn any money, I wasn't sure what to say when she asked how long it would take.

Then I tried to take a teaching moment. I tried to teach Mary that wanting something because someone else has it is not a very good reason to want it.

Then the following exchange occurred:

Mom: "You know, Mary, having an ipod will not make you happy."

Mary: Sigh. "I knew you would say that."

Mom: "You did?"

Mary: Sigh. "Yep."

Mom: "Okay. But it really, really won't." Pause. "I promise."

Effective parenting at its best.

We finally took some family pictures! Here they are posted below.

Have a great week everyone!

You will notice that in all of these pictures, Mary is the jokester!

What a weekend!

2010-04-04T05:19:00.000-07:00

Lucy's baptism. Flannery's Birthday! General Conference! Two moves. Yes, in between the first two conferences Sam went to a move (there was one scheduled during Lucy's baptism he couldn't go to, and a funeral in our ward. Crazy.) Then he moved someone after Priesthood. Yes, after ten o'clock, when Priesthood session ends here. Phew!

But it was a great and wonderful day. Our ward just happened to be in charge of the Stake baptism, so we monopolized the program. Baba gave the baptism talk. I gave the Holy Ghost talk. Our wonderful friends, the Lymans, did all the music. It was so nice. There were only two other children being baptized so the morning was short and sweet, and Lucy came home and wrote about her day first thing, without any prompting from us.

Happy Easter! Happy Conference! I'm so grateful for the talks on the family. So grateful. And I am determined to get myself an early warning system for each of my kids!

So funny!

2010-03-28T05:48:00.000-07:00

Lucy's new birthday art kit.

Shaemus and Mary and Lucy in the freezing cold water.

Jordan lake's hottest babe.

acting out red riding hood. Calvin is the wolf. Really. Lucy was red riding hood. They got a little confused.

My gorgeous cake. The chocolate was supposed to say Lucy. I promise. Lucy's admiring it right now.

Tramping it in the rain.

Flannery can take off her clothes now, and is generally naked. The kids think it's great. Check out her muscles.

So, I went on a Mommy date with Shaemus last night. He is not a big talker. I think he said two sentences to me. At one point I asked him what is favorite food was, and he said, "I can't talk right now, Mom. I'm chewing." He had a sprite and a chocolate milk, and this was such a marvelous thing for him, he took alternate sips all night. Sprite, milk, sprite, milk. The waitresses thought he was golden, the perfect child. And in public, he is.

We had Lucy's birthday celebration on Friday. We never buy chips and junk food, except for on birthdays (if it's requested). The kids completely melted down when the chips came out. I was so frustrated, I postponed family movie night until Saturday night. (Sam hates it when I threaten, and I hate it when I threaten, but I am a Mom who constantly threatens: "If you don't stop hitting each other, you will never have dinner again." That kind of thing. Very mature.)

Anyway, it was too late to let them watch the movie, so we played charades instead, and the kids acted out plays. Shaemus kept being a fox. Again and again. Calvin and Lucy put on a little play of Little Red Riding Hood. During the scene with the wolf in the bed and Red Riding Hood standing by, asking about his big ears, etc... Lucy kept whispering the words to Calvin. Lucy: Grandma what big ears you have! Lucy to Calvin: "Now say, they're there because their better to hear better with." Calvin: They're better to hear better, and better with." Sam and I could not stop laughing. I think Calvin and Lucy said the word better five thousand times.

Sam went in to read picture books to Calvin's kindergarten classroom on Friday. When Sam asked the class if any of them spoke English as a second language, one of the little girls (who is in our ward and has lived in North Carolina all her life) raised her hand and told us that she spoke Spanish as a first language because she was from Spain. Awesome. Sam totally wants to be a kindergarten teacher, and one day, when I publish a lot of books so he can only make 35,000 a year, he will be one. And we will move to Montana. Those are our dreams in a nutshell.

It's Lucy's eighth birthday this week.

What would we do without our Lucy!

Organized, sweet, energetic, loves to play with her siblings, diligent, kind, beautiful, smart, funny. She is the perfect second child. She cleans the house more than I do! She got art supplies and new sandals for her birthday. Nothing's better than smelly markers (You know, the kind that smell like bubble gum, and strawberry, and licorice, etc... I think I got her them so I could sniff when no one is looking.)

Happy Easter! Lucy will be baptized this Saturday, general conference Saturday, and the day before easter. Perfect for our little Easter baby (she was born on Easter that year.)

Spring (and Mosquitoes)

2010-03-21T06:03:00.000-07:00

Spring is here and it is gorgeous.

But so are the mosquitoes.

That is all I will say, except that one of my goals this year is to wear mosquito repellant on a regular basis (the kind with the maximum possible deet).

I hate mosquitoes.

But everything else is wonderful—beyond wonderful.

Shaemus and Calvin both have teachers that just love them. Calvin's teacher says whenever she is feeling down and needs a pick-me-up, she goes and hangs out with Calvin. Calvin found a snake yesterday, a small, dead snake. We think it is a rough earth snake. He ran in the house after finding it and wrote down a list of nine things he identified about the snake. (This was his idea, not mine.) Below is the list. Pretty brilliant for a kindergardener if you ask me!

Joys

2010-03-14T18:04:00.000-07:00

I am so very blessed.

There are many things I don't like to do as a mom.

1--I don't like to give my children baths.

2--I don't like to play toys with my kids.

Those are the main two (besides, you know housework, but that doesn't count.)

So I don't do either of those things if I can avoid them (our kids all shower.)

But I do get to practice music with them, which I love, love, love.

And, I get to read with them, which I love even more. It fills my soul each and every time we snuggle on my bed and begin a new book--particularly with Calvin and Shaemus right now--they are so filled with wonder. (Though I love reading to the girls too)

And now, Sam and I have started dates each weekend.

Every Saturday he or I take one of the kids on a date (except for Flannery)

We established a date budget, so we can take the child out to eat and possibly to a dollar movie (if anything decent is playing, which there hardly ever is.)

We just started this last month, but we love it. The kids love, love, love it. They can't wait until it is their turn with Mom or with Dad. We talk, talk, talk and get real time with that one child.

It is the best thing in the world!

Yesterday, for example, I learned that Lucy doesn't like playing house or babies on the playground. She wants to be a writer and a mother when she grows up. She thinks she was born naturally clean and is the only person in our family born that way (true, though I grudgingly admitted it).

It was magical!!!

Pictures of our life--and the boss

2010-03-07T06:07:00.001-08:00

This is the boss of our house--

Sam had a birthday---

Our house is really messy, and yes I let my children paint the walls in our kitchen. That green thing behind Flannery in an earlier picture was Mary's watery version of a mermaid.

And here is some of our mess:

Confession: The other day Mary fell down the stairs. Thud...thud....thud, thud, thud, thud. I had to run out of the room to hide my laughter. (She was more wounded in spirit than wounded in body.) I have my mother's disease of laughing when things get stressful. I have a distinct childhood memory of being in big trouble. My dad was going to spank me. My dad was in a wheelchair, and I had learned very early that if I got in the middle of my parents' king size bed, he couldn't reach me. My mother was then asked to drag me off the bed to him. And she did, the heartless thing, laughing hysterically the whole time. She swore she didn't think it was funny, but there she was. And now I do the same thing.

Remember Lot's Wife

2010-02-28T06:46:00.000-08:00

Elder Holland gave the most incredible talk at BYU in early 2009. It'a called Remember Lot's wife. (Here's the link http://www.byub.org/talks/Talk.aspx?id=3403)

Lot's Wife was turned into salt when they were fleeing Sodom and Gomorrah because she turned around and looked back.

Elder Holland says this: "What was wrong with Lot's wife is that she wasn't just looking back, but that in her heart she wanted to go back....A more theological way to talk about Lot's wife is to say she did not have faith. She doubted the Lord's ability to give her something better than she had. Apparently she thought, fatally as it turned out, that nothing that lay ahead could possibly be as good as those moments she was leaving behind...(Then he quotes Paul) "I have stopped rhapsodizing about the good old days' and now eagerly look toward the future that I may apprehend that for which Christ apprehended me." ....Faith is for the future. Faith builds on the past but never longs to stay there. Faith trusts that God has great things in store for each of us and that Christ is the "high priest of good things to come"

The whole talk is wonderful, but those passages really struck me. My life is so good right now, as near perfect as I can imagine. I have five wonderful children, a husband who loves me more than ever, and I love him the same. I have a strong testimony. We have lots of opportunities to serve. I have a wonderful and supportive extended family. I am able to go to school right now and spend hours a day studying something I love with a passion. Sam has a job. We have a nice home. We have good neighbors and live right by the church and ten minutes from a temple. What more could I ask for?

This always leads me to wonder: what is coming? Growing up, my dad was sick, and then he died, and then my grandparents who lived with us were sick, and then they died, and then my mother got breast cancer, and in between all this, she was a single parent, I was in a horrible car accident, etc., etc.. I remember when she told me she had cancer. I was seventeen and up at the ranch I worked at in Idaho. I remember thinking: No. It can't be. This is too much. Our family has already struggled and suffered more than most. We can't handle this.

And here I am. And my brother is married with a beautiful wife and beautiful baby and he is happy. My mother is doing wonderfully well. She is happy despite everything. We survived. We did handle it (with the help of the Lord). We made it through.

So I need to remind myself, don't be worried. Now is great, today is perfect, and I should be grateful for it, but there is no reason tomorrow can't be great and perfect too. Even though there will, most assuredly, be struggles. We won't just suffer through the struggles and then emerge triumphant. We can be joyful through the struggles. Through the trials. Even during trials, things can be great (see the March Ensign article about endurance. It's wonderful.)

Anyway, that's what we've been talking about lately.

Sam had a birthday! The old toot is 33. This used to sound old, but it doesn't sound old anymore. But for a few months he is two years older than me! Tee hee.

Confession: Our entire family shares socks, except for Flannery. Shaemus was at church and I looked down and noticed the pink heel of one of my socks poking out from one of his shoes. Calvin wore Sam's black dress socks to church the other day. And the girls take whatever socks they like and wear them anywhere. Even outside in the mud.

Right now I am sometimes upset when I can't find a clean pair of my own socks. But I'm sure in seventeen years, when they're all gone, I'll miss it, maybe I'll even despise all those clean socks sitting so neatly in my drawer with no one to borrow them without permission!

Negligent snow fun

2010-02-21T06:17:00.001-08:00

Snow pictures! Everyone is freezing due to lack of proper clothing.

Notice in some of the pictures Shaemus has nothing on his feet, nothing. We have shoe issues in our house. Every day someone has lost their shoes. Calvin frequently appears at church in crocs. Shaemus does not wear matching socks. Ever. Lucy insists on wearing sandals in the winter (with socks at least), and I'm pretty sure the preschool authorities think we are very negligent (Shaemus always shows up to preschool with food on his face.) When Mary was in preschool, her teacher sent us a jacket one of her daughters used to wear because Mary told her she didn't have one. (I sent it back. She did have one; she just refused to wear it.) When Lucy was in first grade, I got a note home that asked why we did not have left-handed scissors for Lucy, and why she was deficient in her mouse (computer mouse) skills. Calvin made his own valentines with white paper and a pencil--no color at all. And yesterday, Flannery detached her frenelem (?) the thing that attaches your upper lip to your gums. It ripped in half. According to the internet it heals on its own, and I can't imagine trying to stitch up the inside of a one year old's mouth, so there you go. We didn't take her in because it stopped bleeding even though it dangled and looked like a train wreck. It may take years to heal, but that's the way it will have to be.

I'm sure many think this crazy, lazy, haphazardness is because we have five kids, but really it is just me. I'm an unorganized person who brings as little as possible anywhere she goes (except church where I bring way too much), because I'm too lazy to be more concerned about it. I know this sounds braggy, like I'm so cool because I'm such a laid back Mom, but I don't mean it to be. If I thought it was really cool, I would let people come over to my messy house all the time. I wouldn't be worried about what people would think, right? But really, whenever I see people stare at Flannery's snotty nose, or Shaemus's dirty cheeks, I am cringing inside—but I don't have a wipe on hand to do anything about it!

Oh well. At least we had raisins and a carrot for our snowman (or snow blob)! Never mind that Shaemus ate them all the next day.

My Valentine

2010-02-14T07:23:00.000-08:00

Ode to Sam:

This is what Sam did yesterday.

He woke up.

He went and did a PPI for church at the church.

He came home and took Calvin to a birthday party.

He cleaned the fridge and scoured our bedroom while I went to the temple.

He took Mary and Lucy to a birthday party and picked them up.

He went shopping at three different stores for groceries.

He updated the budget.

He took Mary and Lucy ice-skating.

He watched half a movie with me (that's about all we get through).

And the night before he edited over forty pages of my book for school.

And that is all he did.

Guess how many of those things were for him? Maybe, maybe one. And I picked the movie.

That is Sam every day. So forget that he's handsome, brilliant, funny, laid-back, charitable, etc.,etc.,etc. He is my best friend who spends every minute of his day trying to take care of me and our family and make us happy.

Who could ask for more?

I love you Sam.

(And I'm really sorry I didn't get you anything this year. But this year we are living by Elder Hales's most loving words: We Can't Afford it! Not easy to say on Valentine's day!)

Calvin's Six!

2010-02-14T07:12:00.001-08:00

I can hardly believe this boy is six. Here are my favorite memories of Calvin:

1--whenever he smiles and his eyes widen and his dimples deepen and I wonder how I got such a handsome, handsome boy.

2--when just the other day he was pretending to be a circus elephant and he stood at the top of the stairs and said, "Ta Da!" and he then fell all the way down the stairs, bump, bonk, bump, bonk. He got up half crying, but when he all saw we were laughing, he started to laugh too. That is Calvin to a tee!

3--When he tells Baba he thinks he is really smart, maybe even smarter than her (although I know Baba doesn't like it.)

4--When he says he wants to be a scholar when he grows up (someone who studies everything)

5--When he says after he watches TV, Mom, I think I can feel my brain melting. (That is because that's what I tell him happens after he watches TV. I always agree his brain does look a little melty and he'd better go exercise it. He'll probably need therapy.)

6--When he loses his shoes every single, single, single day and he tells me and then he says he'll go look for them and I find him on the floor, reading a book.

7--How he is reading on his own now, book after book after book and loving it, but he still loves nothing more than to snuggle with me and read.

8--When he fell out the window when I was in Utah and when Sam found him, he said, (I have a leaf in my hair!)

9--How he still says Blanklet instead of blanket.

10--How he is just our happy go lucky kid, such a perfect place in our family for him.

11--how his brother Shaemus is his best friend in the world and how yesterday, I heard Calvin whispering to him that they needed to make a treasure box, a secret treasure box, and take it to their make-up circus and surprise the audience with all their treasures. It was so cute, I didn't even mind to much when their treasures included half of the things in the fridge, and I found a mini-grocery store behind the couch that they weren't very helpful at cleaning up!

Love you Calvin!!!

Music Lessons and Mattresses

2010-02-07T07:00:00.000-08:00

Okay, so first of all, this week, we got a new mattress. Hooray! When I was in Vermont I slept on a mattress as hard as a brick. Seriously. I have pretty messed up hips and lower back from pregnancy that are not getting better and sleeping at home has sometimes been excruciatingly painful, no matter how many pillows I put between my legs or behind my back etc, etc,. I can judge how bad my hips are based on how easy it is to pop them and how loud the pop.

In Vermont, my hips barely hurt at all during the night, thanks to the rock hard mattress. I was shocked. I had no idea a mattress could make such a difference. Then I came home and it was right back to excruciating hip pain during the night. I felt how my ten-year old, never very good in the first place, mattress sagged in all the wrong places, didn't support me at all, etc., etc.

So we got a new one! And it is so much better! It's not as rock hard as the Vermont one (for Sam's sake) so I can't sleep on my stomach, but I can sleep on my side without pain.

I highly recommend new mattresses. We got the cheapest one we could through Costco, and it will be just fine (although the fancy memory foam ones were very tempting)

Now, to Music Lessons:

If you ever want to learn about your children's personalities, have them take Suzuki music lessons and become their parent teacher.

Mary learning the viola: Rushing, fast, not methodical in how she learns songs, very artistic, has a beautiful sound, does dynamics on her own, easy to calm down, fairly patient with herself (as long as a friend isn't waiting to play), seems to enjoy playing for the most part.

Lucy learning cello: Also fast, but very methodical about learning the notes. She can hear the music and pick things out very quickly. She has cruised through her books and is surpassing everyone she started with. She is not patient. At all. If she doesn't get something, she loses her temper immediately and stomps around with her giant cello saying how stupid everything is. She doesn't seem to enjoy the musical aspect of cello so much as learning the songs (never puts dynamics in on her own, has a hard time making things sound more beautiful). Very structured in her practicing.

Calvin learning cello: Patient. Very patient. So patient I have to tell him all the time to pick up the speed. Not stressed. Not methodical, but he seems to enjoy what he does. Doesn't ever really want to practice, but doesn't resist too much. Everything is sort of a big game to him, a challenge. He likes to be funny while he practices and purposefully do the wrong thing.

I could take cello and music out of these paragraphs (along with a few other changes) and give you my children's approach to everything.

So if you ever want to learn how to understand your children better, teach them music!

(or sports, or probably anything else, I would guess!)

I will try to post some pictures if I can find the camera battery charger. Tee hee hee

snow and report cards

2010-01-31T08:01:00.000-08:00

First of all, check out our book blog mayeverywordtell.blogspot.com for regular book recommendations and fun ideas

Now to the important stuff----It snowed!

It was like Christmas

Seriously better than Santa Clause. And again, we will be moving to Montana one day. I need snow, I miss snow. I miss space. (okay, not that I've ever lived where there's tons of space, but still.) And aren't all writer's supposed to live in Montana, or Oregon or Minnesota or Wisconsin or Vermont?

We got report cards on Friday. Hysterical. I'm so glad I talked to someone (I can't remember who) and got the advise to let your kid make mistakes now in Elementary School. Let them forget to turn things in and pay the consequences now, before it matters. To let them learn how to be responsible when their nine and not learning all that much anyway (sad but true). So that's what I'm doing. My kids have to do homework for a certain amount of time each day, but they can decide what they do. I don't check their work unless they ask for help, and I don't help very much. Mary is learning some hard lessons this year. But she is learning them. For the first time ever, she is learning to bring her assignments home, because if she doesn't and she gets points off for not turning things in, she can't play. I wish I could be as wise as Sister Hinckley and never ground my children, but with Mary, it's all that works. Playing with friends is all she really cares about. The girl is brilliant, but doesn't care about teachers or grades or getting applause for her brilliance. But she does care about playing. And she came home from school thrilled because she didn't get a 2 in the spot that says turning in homework. If she did, (again), she couldn't play for two weeks. So phew, I'm going to teach this girl to care and be responsible if it kills me, and her, and her social life I suppose. Now, how to teach Lucy not to care so much!

More pictures of fun outside before the snow!

Stair steps!!! Too bad if we have another it will be a giant step from Flannery down! Oh well.

Love

2010-01-24T06:24:00.000-08:00

Being away from my family for twelve days was too long, but some interesting things happened because of my absence:

First, Sam is more in love with me than ever. That sounds really stupid when I write it out, but it is the sweetest thing in the world, and I have to record it. He follows me around and just sits by me or hugs me every so often. More importantly, he lets me be. Something everyone probably struggles with—and he and I both used to—was letting each other just be. For example, sometimes when the house is messy and you don't want to clean it because you have other things to do, or you just don't want to, you become irritated with your spouse for not having it done or not doing it themselves. We often don't want to do all the work by ourselves and become grumpy at our spouse for not pitching in. This is really pride. Sam and I both used to do it, but now Sam doesn't. He is just happy to have me home, and I have felt it every minute since I got back. When I am writing, and the house is messy, he just leaves it. Or he cleans it if he feels like it, but he doesn't ever give me any vibes that he is unhappy with me. It reminds me of what Sister Hinckley once said to President Hinckley, "You have always given me wings to fly, and I've loved you for it." Yes, Sam has given me wings to fly by supporting me in my writing and in getting this degree, but more so, he is supporting me on a daily, minute by minute basis, by trusting me that I know how to manage my time, that I am not being lazy, or selfish, but I am prioritizing and will get things done all in good time. It is so freeing. Except, it makes me want to be the same for him. Actually, it makes me want to work as much as possible because he doesn't want me to work too much. Does that make sense? It is amazing. It is like a gift of fresh air. I know people say couples need to get away every once in awhile, together, and I think that's true, but I am now beginning to think that every wife should get a little time away from her husband every so often. I think in many cases, the husband would fall in love with his wife all over again.

Also, Calvin will now let me kiss him! Huge. I've missed it so much.

Flannery became more stubborn while I was gone. She has started hitting and saying, "I want it," all the time. It's still cute though, cause she's my baby! (poor youngest child)

I'm trying to figure out how to manage my time. The only problem with this degree is that you are never done. There is always more revision to do. Always.

But life is always about balance, isn't it!

One last thing: night terrors. First of all, I have decided that it is my more perfectionist children, the ones who in general are more uptight about things who have night terrors or trouble sleep walking. Lucy sleep walks. Shaemus has night terrors. Mary and Calvin have never done either. I wonder sometimes if it is due to how perfectly behaved Lucy and Shaemus are at school. They are so good all day and they just revolt when they get home, both when they are awake and when they are asleep. Shaemus's night terrors always seem to be worse on days he has had preschool. My grandpa used to kick violently in the night. My mom's theory was that he spent so much time dealing with people he wanted to kick, they were so frustrating, but of course he never would, that he kicked things in his dreams.

Shaemus's night terrors are strange and exhausting and sometimes, they never seem to end. But I've started to tell him before he goes to bed that first of all, if he pees his bed in the night, he has to change his clothes and put a towel on his bed all by himself. We will not help him. (But I put his change of clothes and his towel by his bed.) I've also started telling him if he comes in our room crying, I will not get out of bed to walk him back. This may sound very cruel, but it works. On the nights when I am firm and I don't get out of bed to help him, he eventually gives up and takes care of things himself and goes back to bed. On the nights when I help him, he quiets down faster, but he always, always, always does it again the next night. When I don't help him, he usually does not do it the next night. And when I do a very good job reminding him that I will not be helping him in the night before he goes to bed, he doesn't wake up.

It is strange because I don't think he is doing it on purpose. Entirely. But he is aware in his subconscious of what he is doing, and I know for a fact he can go forever without waking up and without wetting his bed. He just needs to have the incentive of not getting help when he does wake up. I guess I should say, if he doesn't have the incentive of getting his parents to help him when he struggles in the night, he doesn't struggle.

Calvin used to wet his bed a few times a week as well, but now that he has to take care of the problem himself, he never does. Ever.

But it is so hard to listen to them crying, especially when you are tired and you know if you got up and took care of things it would be over in minutes...

But it is so exhausting to be woken up in the middle of the night again and again and again...

Enough Blogging for Now! The church is true! Even in Vermont where the congregations are sweet but tiny! Snow is wonderful! I miss it! To those of you who have it, don't take it for granted! I miss it so much. It makes winter worth while.

One day, we will live in Montana. We will! (maybe when we're 80, but it will happen!)

love

linds

2010-01-17T08:38:00.000-08:00

I'm writing from Vermont one last time. I miss my little family so much! One of the faculty members here is LDS and for her lecture on theme she showed part of her sons wedding video. He was married in the Alberta Canada temple, and he is very tall, and seeing him and his bride in front of that temple, it reminded me so much of my wedding, and my Sam, and being married in the temple, I cried.

These residencies are really long. Too long. I already know so much my brain is bursting, and I'll never be able to include it all in my writing, but I learned that we have to be in residence for a certain number of days each year for the program to be accredited, so I'll just have to do it. Four more residencies after this one!

I did touch the sleeve of that grand dame of all of children's literature, Katherine Paterson (She wrote Jacob, Have I Loved and Bridge to Terebithia), and I've met so many other wonderful, amazing writers and they are all so very kind.

I got to go to church today! There are six LDS people here, including the faculty member, and one of our classmates asked if she could come along. She is searching for the truth. I don't know if it will lead to anything, she's very intellectual in her reasonings, a very smart, kind girl, but it was wonderful to have the opportunity to take someone to church. My first time ever, really.

I get to go home and Wednesday and squeeze my family and begin to write, read, write, read, cook, clean, hug, write, read. My life for the next two years, which sounds pretty darn good, if you ask me.

Talk to you all soon!

love

linds

Fun, Fun, Fun in Pictures

2010-01-16T11:19:00.000-08:00

What a cute Baby!

Wearing Dad's Shoes

Intense Teeth Brushing

Relaxed Teeth Brushing

Too much toothpaste!

Mud Cakes: Hershey's Syrup, Raisins, Outdoor nuts

Pulling cans out and hiding in cupboards

I want one of those cans!!!!

Look at me Dad! Cheese!!

10 on Both Sides - I got 10 stickers at school. I wore this home and back to school the next day.

New Glasses! We can see!!!

2010-01-10T10:31:00.000-08:00

Quick post!

I'm in Vermont at the Vermont College of Fine Arts for a twelve day residency. My sweet, sweet Sam is home with the kids. And so far, he says, there have been about 1.5 catastrophies per day. Sam broke a cello string for Lucy while trying to figure out how to tune the darn thing (he broke the thickest one, which I think takes a lot of strength to do, so he really ought to flex his muscles in the mirror to feel better about himself), and Mary broke her BRAND NEW glasses (a screw fell out, but the screw is lost, so poor Sam has to go get it fixed on Monday), and Flannery ripped up a library book. Not too bad for two days.

I have the incredible blessing of being randomly assigned a Mormon roommate! There are three of us in a class of 15 and one of them is a man, so seriously I could not be more lucky. I was worried about the roommate in the dorms thing. Everyone is so incredibly nice here—unbelievably nice—but I was worried about sharing a room with someone who maybe liked to stay up drinking or would not be too happy if I woke up early for scripture study. My roommate is active LDS from the San Diego area, and she was equally pleased to be stuck with me!

Just another blessing from Heavenly Father helping show me and my family how his hand is involved in our lives!

Have a great week everyone!

(especially you Sam)

2010

2010-01-03T06:26:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!

Zoo, ice skating, Baba, wonderful times. Dad home. Fabulous.

What we're reading this week:

Lindsay: Freak the Mighty

Sam: Soup in Love

Mary: Dragon Rider

Lucy: Geronimo Stilton

Calvin: Zoobreak

Shaemus: Houndsley and Catina

(I'm going to use this blog to record our favorite books of the week so I can remember! I'll only record the ones we like if you want to try them.)

We are sad to get back to real life. I leave on Saturday for eleven days! Call Sam and make sure he's alive if you get a chance. Today, Shaemus is a Sunbeam, Calvin is a CTR6, Lucy is a CTR8, and Mary is a Valiant 10. And Flanny can actually go to nursery because her nose isn't dripping. I can't believe how fast they are growing.

love you!

samandlindsandcrew

2009-12-27T08:33:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas!

We have had one of our best Christmas's ever. The kids were pleasant and happy and didn't fight too much.

We had one beautiful day on Saturday, driving around and delivering cookies. Everyone sang Christmas songs (Everyone!) and for at least a half hour, no one hit, pinched, punched, or screamed. Half-way through, Flannery threw up, and then later, when I made Sam take the two boys out to deliver the rest of the cookies, he got stuck out in the cold when the car battery completely died. Right before bed that day, we discovered our fish had gotten stuck in the rocks and died. We'd wondered where he'd been and why his food had been floating on the top.

Sam and I decided after that day that we had to focus on the beautiful half-hour where we all sang (Mary usually refuses) and nobody fought (everybody fights).

Acting out the nativity Christmas Eve did not go so well. We had to stop because the reverence level completely dissolved and everyone was being way way way too silly, but earlier that day, Sam taught family scripture study and read from Samuel the Lamanites prophecies and the oldest four kids were mesmerized. So, I tried to remember that and block out the later episode of craziness.

Baba (my mom) brought us the Christmas concert with the tabernacle choir and Brian Stokes Mitchell, and it was amazing. If you get the chance to see it, it is so, so, so wonderful.

Our favorite Christmas activity always is Gifts of the Heart (we stole this idea from the Cottam family). On Christmas Eve we open gifts from the heart to each other. They are all service gifts (Mary promised to play with Flannery forevermore (exact wording), Lucy promised to help me cook dinner for two years, Calvin promised to be respectful of the girls room!!!, Shaemus promised a lot of hugs and kisses, and Daddy promised a variety of interesting Daddy dates). The kids love this so much. They love opening their gifts of the heart, but even more, they love watching everyone's reactions to their ideas.

The trick is remembering to follow through with gifts of the heart throughout the year, but we're going to try harder to do that this year!

Pictures Below! We hope you had a wonderful time, and we missed seeing all of you.

(I hope the pictures show up below. I still don't understand how to arrange pictures on this thing. Course I haven't really tried to figure it out either. I like things to magically happen the way I want them to.)

Melting Mommy Brain

2009-12-20T15:08:00.000-08:00

So I have no brain. It melted some time ago, and I never noticed.

My laptop (so generously donated to me by my mom) is very old and the screen has been blinking on and off. I had to get a new one for my program, so I got online earlier this week to buy a refurbished Macbook; I gulped and ordered it.

It came two days later and I said to Sam, geez, this box is big for a laptop. It's the same size as the box our regular desktop came in.

I opened the box.

An imac (a 20 inch screen desktop computer) was sitting in the box, complete with keyboard.

I had ordered the wrong computer.

Sam, doing his best to be very nice and very calm and very generous said that showed how laid back I was. If it had been him, he would have checked his order twenty times before spending so much money.

So the good news is I am very laid back. The bad news is, my brain has melted.

(Side note: Apple is very nice about returns, so nice they even pay for you to ship back a return at no cost. But I made Sam call because I felt so stupid and I hate calling about stuff like that..)

More evidence...

So yesterday, all this really important information came for my program--all these papers I have to print out and critique by the second week of January. I've been waiting forever for these documents, so I began to print them out, and became irritable when the ink began to run out on our computer.

I yanked out the old ink cartridges and jammed, literally, in the new.

Turns out, I put the black ink cartridge in the color ink side and the color ink cartridge in the blank ink side.

You cannot do this. The printer doesn't like it. It makes horrible noises and won't shut and blinks at you in anger. Then your husband had to pull out the ink cartridges with a wrench.

Then your printer refuses to work.

And you realize it is even more evidence that your brain has died.

Then I got to church today, the Sunday before Christmas, the Sunday when my children have to sing in front of the entire choir and I realized that despite my determination for my children to look somewhat decent, they have all dressed themselves again, and none of them have really brushed their hair (though the oldest two claimed they did) and my oldest child, my nine-year-old who looks like a twelve-year-old, was wearing a stained dress and was so embarrassed about this, she brought in her hot pink and white striped scarf to cover up the stains on her dress. She wore said scarf up to sing, the only child wearing flaming pink winter weather gear for the primary singing. And we just won't say anything about the layers of dirt on Shaemus's face. They are always there, so they aren't really that important.

And I gave up.

My brain really has melted.

See pictures below for examples of what their hair looked like today. Okay, nevermind. I cannot figure out how to put my pictures where I want them. So the pictures are all over the place. Any advice from pro-bloggers on that?

And Merry Christmas! I think next year I am going to go back to ancient times, when they didn't really begin celebrating Christmas until Christmas Eve. (That might save my brain this time of year, or at least extend its life.)

Its a good thing the gospel is true. Have a great one! Linds and Fam

2009-12-13T17:24:00.001-08:00

Okay, I am trying to blog again. Wish me luck.

We officially survived Sam being gone for ten days. Unofficially we did not survive. I made it all the way to day eight without losing it, but morning of day nine and morning of day ten were not good Mommy days for me.

Mary at one point said she was kind of used to Dad being gone, which made me laugh because he'd been gone one day. Then she said it was sad because he was the easier one. (I refuse to analyze that statement).

There was lice found in our nursery a few weeks ago. This has created some amount of chaos and I was so glad Flannery was full of runny nosiness (which she has been for the past month) and wasn't there to risk contamination. Shaemus was there, but he is rather a silent man in nursery and school and everywhere in public (not at home) and keeps to himself.

Calvin had to miss part of recess the other day for telling a kid he had candy canes on his head. Apparently the kid told him he had candy canes on his head too, but since Calvin said it first, the other kid did not get in trouble.

Calvin also came home from school the other day telling me he got in a fight with a neighbor boy. The boy's older brother told his brother (who was sitting by Calvin) to beat Calvin up. So the other boy tried choking Calvin. Calvin fought back. He said blood was dripping down the other boys face. He was telling me all this very matter of factly and when I asked Mary and Lucy if they noticed anything since they were on the same bus, Lucy said, "Nope," and Mary said, "Yeah right."

I really didn't know what to think, so I decided not to think period. When I talked to Sam (who was in D.C.) he was not so happy with me not thinking about it. He wanted me to call the parents and talk to the bus driver right then that exact minute at the same time. And then Sam flew home, went to our neighbors house and egged it. Just kidding.

I did talk to the neighbor's mom when I was picking her other son (who is Shaemus's best friend) up for preschool. She rolled her eyes and said I'm sure it's true, and she talked to them, and apparently it was. I'm not really sure what that accomplished, but Calvin did tell me later that the other boy won the fight. This did not disturb him at all.

The main thing Calvin talks about with kindergarten is other people seeing other people's bums when they are going to the bathroom. I have tried to discuss this with him, but I have given that up for good. It is hard to make sense of the kindergarten world.

Well, perhaps that is enough blogging for now. I am getting more and more nervous as each day brings me closer to my first residency for my graduate program (for those of you who don't know, I'm starting a MFA in creative writing for children and young adults at Vermont College of Fine Arts in January.)

Oh that reminds me of one more thing. I bore my testimony last Sunday about tithing. I told about how Sam has taken over the grocery shopping (don't be too horrified. I hate hate hate hate hate grocery shopping. Sam loves loves loves loves loves it. It is like a treasure hunt for him and every day he comes home and has spent very little at the grocery store, is a day he can pat himself on the back and run around in circles pumping the air.)

So anyway, since Sam has taken over our grocery shopping, he has cut our food budget in half. Seriously. I bore my testimony about how we were trying to save money so we could pay my super-expensive tuition without going into debt. I also said how much I felt like the Lord was blessing us to be able to save money--kind of like a miracle.

Well

Sam got a lot of ha ha's and ho ho's about him taking over the grocery shopping. And on Monday, a wonderful woman from our ward brought over a box of frozen pizzas. I blushed and begged her to tell me this was not because she thought we were starving. Her husband delivers frozen pizzas and promised me they just had some recently expired pizzas they had to get rid of. So on Tuesday, with Sam gone, we had recently expired pizzas and I tried not to blush too hard while eating them.

One more thing, since I'm going crazy on this writing on a blog thing. This is what we ate last week while Sam was gone. Hot dogs. Frozen recently expired pizzas. Pancakes. Spaghetti. Macaroni and Cheese (homemade I'll have you know.) We also had frozen vegetables if you are worried about my children getting enough vitamins (which you should be because Mary and Lucy are almost blind. Lucy has like -5.75 eyes and Mary is in the fours. They are both twice as bad as I am. I am going to start sticking carrots in their burritos.

Enough!

Hope you are all doing great!

First official sam and linds and crew blog

2008-08-29T12:59:00.000-07:00

As of this date, August 29, 2008, Samuel and Lindsay Eyre live in North Carolina, have five children and five pets and we no longer have fleas. We just stopped an experiment in homeschooling, and now have two girls back in school and one son in preschool. Minus fleas and homeschooling, Lindsay has much more time, and true to form has struggled a bit with what to do with this newfound time. I've decided to stop being a maverick and begin a family blog. Then I won't have to send out emails to those who may not have time to read them.

Mary and Lucy began school on Monday, and I nearly had a nervous breakdown. It was very strange to go from complete control, pretty much, of what everyone did at every minute, to very little control over the oldest two. My house was so quiet, I could hear at least a milk jug drop. I had a whole lot of that random time I find so difficult to know what to do with. The fifteen minutes here and there when no one needs me. I have limited myself to no more than two hours of house cleaning a day, so I don't go completely crazy, and just taking care of the youngest three has been an adjustment. I miss my girls and I miss loving and the wonderful learning we were doing together. Homeschooling was really quite selfish because it satisfied much of my intellectual needs, but oh well. I'll just have to satisfy those needs elsewhere.

The girls are doing great. This year, Lucy has barely cried. (She did cry and get really upset about having to ride the bus, because it turns out she needs glasses too and was worried she wouldn't see her bus number on the screen.) I think their teachers will be all right. It is so wierd to go from focusing on every wonderful thing they could possibly learn to having to say, "ah, oh well, they probably won't learn a lot, maybe they will, but they will survive and grow up and hopefully be productive people. They can learn all the missed in the next life, right, right???" (the question marks indicate increased desperation) This is almost a direct quote to Sam from me every night.

Brief kid update, because I could go on about myself for way too long!

Mary is doing well, I think. She never tells me much about school. I'm trying very hard to let her make her own choices as much as possible, and neither do too much for her or decide too much for her. It is such a tough balance, I'm finding. I've decided I am not going to be a homework enforcer, unless she really begins to never do it. Yesterday, she forgot to bring her homework home, and sort of panicked because her discipline clothespin would move from blue down to green as a result. I told her we could not go back to school to get her homework, but if she hurried enough the next morning and got all her stuff done (violin practice, scriptures read, dishwasher emptied) quickly, she might be able to get to school in time to get her homework done before the bell rang. She did just that. I was so independent with my schoolwork, I hope most of kids can be the same. One of my stresses with so many kids is how in the world I'm going to keep up with homework, sheets to return to school, activities, church stuff for each individual one etc... They HAVE to learn how to be responsible for their homework. We'll see how it goes.

I got a new insight into Mary's violin lessons yesterday. Mary does a great job practicing violin each day, and she is improving steadily, but she can never tell me much of what happens at her lesson or what she's supposed to be doing. I realized yesterday why. She pays zero attention at her lesson. Her poor 17 year old teacher has no idea what Mary can and can't do. Mary just starts talking about random things and makes no sense. The home is fascinating to her, there are six kids in the family from 18 years old down to 9 years old. Five girls and one boy, so much for Mary to feast her eyes upon. Luckily, this is a fabulous family, heavily invested in music, so I don't mind the admiration, but from now on I'll be going to Mary's music lessons, and make sure she at least knows what she's supposed to be practicing. (Sam went to them before, I was worried I would get really stressed with Mary if I went to her lessons and practiced with her.) So, here I think I need to be more hands on, not less. But I'm not sure. That whole balance independence thing again. Like that wonderful article in the September Ensign said, Love, Limits and Lattitude. I want to figure out our own families version of limits and latitude as well as love.

I think I'll end here, and add more about the rest of the kids tomorrow!