Darn It!

Sometimes several years can go by and it feels that life is much the same as it has been.

But other times,

Naomi looks like a woman and smiles confidently as she leaves for high school.

Marko runs off to his kindergarten line because he already knows where it is.

And the game of pretending that Lucy is still a baby gets a bit ridiculous as she tells me that "Technically if a peregrine falcon didn't have wings it wouldn't be a bird." 

Darn those other times, when I realize that this stage is slipping away. 

"The gospel of Jesus Christ matters more than anything else."

"We value you as an individual, not just as one of the pack."

"We adore you whichever way you are, you don't always have to be easy and lovely and cheerful and helpful and peaceful (although, we love you that way too.)"

"There is a living prophet."

"Following his counsel will make our lives happier."

"Your decision to be baptized was a critical, wonderful step."

"Stay on the path forever and ever because it is so much easier and happier than all the other alternatives."

"We would give you all the money and time in the world if it were possible."

"Keep up your dilligent music studies--you'll be so glad you did."

"We are proud of you."

"We are grateful for you and the long road that brought you to us."

"Don't be so quiet that you get lost." 

"Please be quiet enough to keep setting a good example for the rest of the firecrackers in our family."

"Don't do drugs.  Don't drop out.  Don't date until you're 25.  Don't live in our basement at 30.  Don't move too far away.  Marry someone wonderful in the temple.  Accept callings.  Let your talents bless all the people around you."


Eliza, you had 72 hours.  Did you get it all?  Because we tried to cram it all in.  That and much much more. 


Please don't forget.

"Are We Cute?"

"Are we cute? Will you take a picture of us?"

I acquire 80% of my photos because my kids tell me they are cute and that I ought to take a picture. The other 20% comes from them using the camera themselves to take pictures of inanimate objects around the house.

What Are You Thankful For?

We are so thankful that you are a dodib, too.

Should I Bother Buying a Baby Book?

Baby Burrito began to smile yesterday.

I realized that a dutiful mother would write this down somewhere. Does blogging count?

Naomi has a baby book. It is 3/4 full of humorous anecdotes, critical-to-remember dates, and adorable pictures.

Eliza has a baby book because I was not going to be one of those mothers who only kept a record of her eldest's life. I feverishly wrote in Eliza's baby book every possible moment so that it would be robust like her sister's. Somehow it still only ended up about 1/3 full.

Chas has a baby book because when Eliza was born I was given two. It has three entries, and I don't know where it is. I comforted myself over the last five years by saying that, Although, I was not keeping a record of his life, I was doing the things that really mattered, like snuggling with him and drawing with chalk on the driveway. I also committed to memory every significant date so that I could go back in and fill out the baby book as soon as I had a minute. Needless to say, all those life-altering milestone dates have long since slipped into brain oblivion.

So, do I even bother buying Mark a baby book? I know I won't fill it out. The real question is, Will the guilt be greater if I don't buy the book at all or if I own it and it sits unused on my shelf?

This time I'm going to console myself with, Boys won't care about their babyhood the same way girls do. (If you disagree with this statement, you are invited to keep your comments to yourself.)

What Would We Do Without Her?

I was 11, sitting on my bed in Grandma Barbara's house reading the New Era. It was the issue with the annual writing/photo/music contest winners. The article was written by a sister in a family full of adopted kids. She described making 18 peanut butter sandwiches in the morning. I felt the smallest stirring in that moment that said, Adoption is a good way to form families.

That feeling came and went for more than a decade, all the while growing in intensity and clarity.

By the time Dallin and I were dating I felt a certainty that our family would be formed by adoption. Dallin had a similar journey with the Spirit.

When I became pregnant with Naomi I felt shocked. What about all of those feelings about adoption? Wasn't that all preparation for forming our family in a different way? But by now the stirring turned feeling was a yearning.

I went to the library and checked out books on adoption. I read websites. Dallin and I talked. And we prayed. Always we prayed.

Then suddenly, in a whirlwind of decisions piloted by Providence we found ourselves settled in Canada and seated in a chapel with a woman talking about adoption at the podium. Every feeling of 13 years culminated in that moment. When she finished and slipped into the hall, I chased her down. Literally.

No longer a stirring or a feeling, the yearning became a consuming, rushing, driving force. From that moment until nine months later we filled out paperwork, took pictures, met with social workers, dug money out of the woodwork, and prayed. Pleading, yearning, guided prayers.

And then it was August and she was coming. And she would be ours. And then it was September and she was born. And she was ours. And all the thoughts and longings of more than a decade were satisfied with this one miraculous child.

What a long, careful road we were led down to find her. For so many years. Why was it so important to have this child in our family? Why did she come to our family in this way? Why was Heavenly Father so involved in getting her to us?

Within moments we knew that Eliza would change our family dramatically. She is a peacemaker. She is an optimist. She has a magnetism unlike anything I've ever seen. She never forgets to pray for Chas, long after the rest of us have become complacent. She softens conflict. She brings hope. She restores the Spirit to our home. She is a gift to us. It's no wonder we call her, Grace. It's no wonder the Lord knew we needed her!

What's the Difference Between the First Day of School and the Last?

First Day

They bathed in the brand-new tub and were tucked into their sleeping bags on the floor at a reasonable hour to be ready for the first day of school. The house had towers of boxes along every wall and we were all hopeful of a new school, new friends, and a somewhat-new life. Their hair was brushed and pony-tailed with bows. Their lunches included individually wrapped snacks from Costco. Their backpacks and sneakers were new and squeaky. And we were ready for a lovely stroll to the school by 7:56 am.

Last Day

They had a field trip to the spray park last week and it rained, so no bath necessary. They said they brushed their hair. There's no evidence to that fact, but I'm not going to fight it today. Eliza's backpack broke a month ago, but I certainly wasn't going to replace it that close to the end of the year. Creating their lunches with no bread, no snacks, no yogurts, and no juice boxes in the house was a trick. I am hopeful that their classes will have some sort of party that includes sustenance of some sort. We are finally ready to go after we hear the "first bell" ring in the distance at 8:25 am. Mario Andretti drives our minivan the 2 km to the school. And an exhausted mother drops off her children and sorrows that a whole year has slipped by again.

Who Wants A Pet?

"I do!" (Naomi)
"I do!" (Eliza)
"I do!" (Chas)

Who will feed it every day?

"I will!" (Eliza)
"I will!" (Chas)

Who will clean up it's poo every day?

"I will." (Eliza)

They're dropping like flies.
I just needed one more question.

How Long Can I Sit Still?

The Silverdale Idol (school talent show) was originally scheduled to begin at 12:45. Then rescheduled for noon. Now it is beginning at 11:30.

This is to ensure that all 75 acts have time to perform before the buses come. I'm not sure I'm going to make it.

How much Elementary School Talent can a parent endure?

PS--It turned out to be only 36 acts (74 kids involved) and 2.5 hours. A book would have been a good idea, especially for the 19 teeny-bopper songs about somehow making it though without the love of their life who, in all cases it seems, had just left. The hockey demo game was original, and the skip rope numbers were impressive. I feel like a trooper for having endured it well.

Do You Want People To Clap Between Each Song...

...or Wait 'Till The End So It Doesn't Distract You?

Eliza has her Graduation Piano Recital today. She'll play 14 little songs at our house and then we'll have munchies. The ketchup chips are the part she is most excited about.

When I asked her whether she would like me to ask everyone not to clap between each (30 second) song so she didn't get distracted she responded with a big smile,

"The more clapping the better."

How Do You Know A Wheel Needs Grease If It Never Squeaks?

She doesn't whine much. She never throws a tantrum. Everything always seems to be going well. She would choose almost any activity over "chatting." 9 times out of 10, when my lectures start with, "You kids..." I know in the back of my mind that she actually hasn't done what I'm about to lecture on.

Very sporadically since about November she has mentioned, in passing it seemed, that she doesn't have anyone to play with at lunch. But it wasn't until Naomi said to Dallin, "Eliza seems sad at lunch. She never plays with anyone," that I tuned my ears to listen. I asked Eliza about it and she said what she had said a couple of dozen times before, that she has no one to play with at lunch. She still sounded casual, as though it was no big deal.

I asked her if she would like me to come to school for her lunch time (which I did almost every lunch when Naomi was in Grade 1) or would she like to come home for lunch. She jumped so enthusiastically at the chance to come home for lunch that I was startled and sad about the past 6 months (129 lunches). She came home all last week and was so clearly thrilled by it, both at lunch time and at the end of the day, that now I'm wondering what else might need grease, but I can't hear it.

Is It Spring Yet?

Chas asks this question every week from Christmas until his birthday.

Eliza's 1st grade science project proves it's here.