Us

Norah, is doing well in school, it's a full-time job for me, but she enjoys learning and achieving and is leading her class in completing challenges which bring only a star as credit. She is still so creative and enjoys spending time in her own world which is lovely at the appropriate times, if you know what I mean.






Lulu is a great student, she loves to learn, and spends hours reading. She is slightly obsessive, but oh well, I am learning new talents. I love how her school photos turned out. There is a fine line between Lulu looking beautiful and crazy, former school photos have been the evidence.





Abram, oh Abram. Abram took initiative and has taught himself to read. This is good because maybe the trillion questions that spill from his mouth every day can be directed toward books.

Abram has a potty mouth problem. He spits out a poop head every few seconds, he tried out penis head last week, and then Sunday, at church, in the foyer, in front of a number of our neighbors, he yelled sh#$ head at Norah. Most definitely one of my finer parenting moments.





Rosemary insists she is not a big girl but my baby. If there is something she doesn't want to do, she tells me she is going to throw up. She also has picked up the habit of telling me "I not happy" all day long with a few "I happy" thrown in when she gets her way. She really is quite sweet and tender, but she seems to be going through some post traumatic stress since I pushed her out of her infancy to toddlerhood by making her wear panties.





Brad continues to be the fun parent and works hard for our family. He is also the first assistant in the high priest group in our church and his job is to attend to all the single ladies-his dream job:)





I am really skyrocketing toward being a domestic goddess with my vast array of serious cleaning, cooking, sewing and gardening skills. But seriously, intellectually I understand the need for families and the training ground they are for following the foot steps of the Savior. But there are times when I think: who said I want to be like God anyway? And then there are times that I recognize the distance that I have traveled. I am not the same person I was 10 years ago, good riddance! The Lord has blessed my work with talents and skills that I never knew I could learn (nor wanted to learn in some cases.) And for this I am grateful.

Now for the important stuff: My husband hates my new red lipstick. I adore it.

So you have before you two difficult alternatives:

1. Get rid of the lipstick

2. Get rid of the husband

Choose carefully because I really do love the lipstick.

Bribes...

every last one. You can call me whatever type of mother you want. But I call it survival friends.

And it's not all bad.



I've decided (after my 8 years of mothering) that the exhaustion and the pure rawness of motherhood is the constant vacillation-back and forth, up and down. I sit here now, with the window open to the cool morning air, the clip, clip, clipping of tiny feet run down my hill toward the school and happy cheery voices ring in the morning sun. But upstairs is a vomiting child, and in the kitchen is a mess, and on the rug is a son with pinching fingers and a vocabulary which seems to be limited to poop and knuckle head.



But the light is pretty and the cat is soft.





And I am making progress on Rosemary's queen quilt, which does teach me that by simple means great things are created.

Today is my Birthday:

I'll be cleaning floors, doing laundry, fixing hair, running errands, and listening to some serious complaining.

But tomorrow, I will be boarding a plane to Minneapolis by myself. I will be driving a rental car for 2 and a half hours by myself. I will be spending four nights in a motel by myself. And I will be partying with my childhood friends for two whole nights at my TWENTY YEAR REUNION, all by myself!

Talk about happy birthday to me!

Grey

Photo: May, 2011

Around our three garden beds are planted Scottish and Irish moss. I imagined these to be perfect fillers inbetween the flagstone steps that create a pathway between the boxes. While they are pretty and spread easily, they capture numerous weeds which are hard to pull because of the denseness of the moss, which leads us to yesterday.
In the aftermath of our trip the weeds have taken up some serious high-density residence around my vegetable gardens. In an effort to bring some neatness to this corner of the yard, I bribed the kids with the promise of a snow-cone if they helped pull the weeds, collect them, and place them in the wheelbarrow.
We pulled and pulled, and there was murmuring indeed. It was hot, there were spiders and bees, the weeds were trapped under rocks and so forth. Then Lulu burst out with one of her insights: Mom, does Satan make weeds? Before I could answer, Norah answerd: Yes, God only makes pretty stuff.
At this time I giggled, but also thought for a moment, this could be one of my lazy-mother times (which I totally opt for occasionally) or I could use this to continue a conversation we had a few months ago.
During spring break, I took the children to visit the Hill Air-force base museum. In anticipation, I hadn't thought much about the museum, it was just something to do. But there were photos, and bombs, and guns, and planes with interesting "art" on them, which of course, lead to many questions. There have been plenty of times when I have been thoughtless, but I don't want to be glib about war.
Then, on memorial day, as we traveled down the main street, my children asked about all the flags placed on the businesses. Talk of war leads to the obvious questions for a child: who are the good guys and who are the bad guys and why do people kill each other?



I remember as a child, and occasionally still now, despite my age, the feelings of being "right" as opposed to those who are "wrong", or "good" as opposed to those who are "bad". These feeling don't provide for much learning, they produce a feeling of pride and they put enmity between myself and others.
I know as a child it is so much more simple to compartmentalize people and issues. Unfortunately, I see too much of it continue into adulthood, whether on Facebook, blogs, or in daily conversation. Thoughts arise in my mind often that dismiss any allowance for insight or thoughtfulness and it is work to rise above it.
I often believe that some of the sweetness and beauty in life come from the struggle to push through this and arrive at empathy. Life would be simple if it was as cut and dry as black and white. But I don't believe life was meant to be simple, it is complex and multi-dimensional for our growth.
This isn't to say that evil doesn't exist. I know it does, I've seen it. We all have choices to make, some are better than others. Most people are mixed bags on their own journey. I believe that when we allow ourselves to talk and think more deliberately, we see ourselves more clearly along with our own weaknesses and deficiencies, and we allow for charity. And if I come away from teaching my children nothing else, I want them to be left with charity. There are many things I don't know or understand about life, but I do know that charity will not fail them.

Pure Michigan

Without any encouragement, Rosemary will strike a pose whenever a camera is pointed in her direction. I really love her, she is such a fun, free little girl. I laugh and giggle at her impromptu performances regularly. At the end of such a performance she will reply to clapping by saying: Thank you very much!









Abram learned how to ride a bike without training wheels while in Michigan. It was of course, the perfect place to do so with its rural roads and lack of steep hills.









Lulu learned to love the water and loved spending time with her cousins. She has truly developed some serious friendship skills in the past 2 years.









Norah, Norah, Norah. Norah lead the pack in the bike riding, the walking, the castle building and the fossil finding. Norah is growing up.









Brad was the king of the road on the way out, the champion badminton player, an awesome rock-skipper-teacher, and a good husband and father.











I was the queen of squinting into the sunlight, keeping my "Michigan hair" under control this year (it never came out of the braid), wearing cool skirts in the heat (so much better than shorts), and learning to enjoy just sitting there.

Back

We just returned from our trip to Michigan. 30 hour drive there and back. It's like I'm a pioneer or something, because my Denali is pretty much like a hand cart.

The weather was perfect. The water was cool and crisp. The air was heavenly.

I mostly sat on the beach, under my umbrella reading while watching my children swim or play in sand for 2 whole weeks. Sometimes I took breaks to swim out to the raft or our Norah sail boat.

Eons from swimming pools, sod, and suburbia. It really doesn't get better.

I have so many photos to come. Will you humor me?