a beacon

On Saturday night it was a pleasure to take a break from regular life to be with my darling girl, as well as sisters across the world, to hear our leaders at the General Women's Meeting. I love witnessing Kate's excitement for gospel learning. I hope she continues to love to feel the Spirit always.

I loved listening to Sister Neill F. Marriott (and her fun Southern accent) as she talked about light.  She said,  "Our purpose, [like the temple's, is] to serve others and help them push back the darkness and return to Heavenly Father's light." After she heard this, my sweet, in-tune Kate leaned over to me and said, "I think this would help my friend at school." Her friend has been having a hard time with another friend who is trying to influence him to break rules and disobey teachers at school. He feels a little trapped, I think, not knowing how to break off a friendship that is getting him caught up in things he would rather not be doing.  Kate has been worrying over her friend, talking to me about what she could possibly do to help.

I think, through her own example, she is probably helping more than she knows.  The fact that she would hear counsel, truth, from our church leaders and then instantly apply it in her own mind to her personal life, is astonishing to me.  At nine I barely sat through one session of Conference.

But, she is so much smarter, wiser, more faithful than I was at her age.  I think she needs to be. As do all our children. The world is in a tailspin of evil, worsening every day.  But, hope, for me, is found in my children and their friends who "stand for truth and righteousness." They are a beacon to their friends. I feel privileged to be on the sidelines and watch them storm the world with their good, just trying to keep up.

Labor Day Weekend

We hitched up the camper and persuaded friends to join us as we bid farewell to summer amid the Colorado mountains. A warm end-of-summer day found us on the banks of a reservoir where kids made mud pies, splashed in the lake and chased each other along the shore. I sat in the shade with baby on my knee, watching in awe as my beautiful children ran along the sand. These healthy, happy babies of mine who have grown so long and lean, funny and clever, kind and forgiving. These five who have filled my life up to practically perfect. Oh, how blessed I am.

Baby girl practicing her walking at the campground

first year

She grew. How does this happen?

assignments

It is officially summer vacation, and my kids are on their annual "summer plan." It is always slightly different, but goes something like this: do a little work, including some summer school-ish things, then you can play. Simple enough.  This year, for their learning jobs, they have to read, write and do math every day.  Not much. Not overwhelming, but just a little something to keep their minds going. Dallin (of course) whips through things quick and is out the door to find a friend and an adventure. Kate delays, dawdles. Her friends knock on the door and she is still.not.done.  It drives me nuts. What I wouldn't give to have someone tell me I HAD to read and write every day.  I might even do a little math, just to have a chance at the other two.  Unfortunately, moms don't get that kind of assignment (luxury). At least not this mom.

But, oh, how I need to write more. I write in my mind all day long, but rarely do I find a minute to sit down and pull it out of my head an onto the page.  If I do sit, it is at the expense of something else (like my floor, which at this moment is a disaster, but I'm avoiding the sweeping. Like Kate might. Hmmm....maybe I'd better have more empathy for that girl?)

So, tonight, I'm assigning myself the task (joy!) of catching up on the life of my baby.  She is 11 months tomorrow. 11 BIG months!  Amazing! Her babyhood is slipping away and I am slow to record the beauty of her days.

Annie can crawl, but doesn't usually use it to get anywhere fast. She is more of an explorer, taking the round about way to get somewhere in favor of looking and seeking (and finding lots of stuff on my messy floors!) She has figured out how to get up the steps, but I try to keep her away from doing that too much because our long, steep staircases scare me! She does NOT know how to go down, so everyone is on eagle eye watch whenever she is upstairs, even with the baby gates. When she does decide that speed is necessary, it is cute to see her employ the use of her one foot, as she scootches it up and uses it to help her go fast.  Usually, she uses her 'fast' crawling to play chase with a sibling.

She hasn't taken any steps, but she has started cruising, just a little.  She loves to pull herself up on things, especially the dishwasher (right near the utensils), and the dryer (she is excellent at unloading all the clothes onto the floor!), or up onto the back of my legs. Which is precarious!


Annie loves to eat solids and is good at grabbing most everything and feeding herself.  She LOVES blueberries, strawberries and cheese.  She also likes yogurt and will still let me spoon feed her oatmeal. She doesn't love veggies, but will tolerate them mixed with fruit. She likes bread, sometimes. Tonight she had spaghetti, and loved it (and it was everywhere!).  She loves most fruit.

Annie loves to wrestle and climb over anyone laying on the ground.  When she wants to play, she will put her face into the floor, like she is hiding, and then pop up and laugh. We are working on getting her to point to her head, nose, ears, etc., but mostly she just points to her mouth, doing the sign for 'eat.' She will point to her head, at the wrong time, and also does the sign for 'more', but also, usually, at the wrong time.

Annie's smile is a light!

If you ask Annie for a kiss, she puts her forehead onto your lips. Melts my heart.

Annie loves her siblings and gets excited to see any of them. They are so sweet with her and they all love to play with her. She is one lucky baby!

Little #5 is such a joy to me. What would I do without her?

Easter Hope

The last time Easter fell on April 20th was 2003. That date is stuck in my brain because it was the year Dallin was born.  His birth, on March 23, 2003, was difficult, and as Easter approached, he was still struggling every day.  We were waiting for the benchmarks of enough caloric intake, lower bilirubin levels and blood counts that could sustain his body without further transfusion.

I looked at the calendar, at Easter day, April 20th, and in my heart I hoped that my baby would be home by then.  It kind of became my little secret wish. I didn't dare say it out loud, but in my prayers I pleaded, "Home for Easter. Home for Easter."

Although he was getting stronger, Dallin did not make it home by Easter.  He drank from a bottle for the first time that day. We were elated! It was improvement, but not enough.

I've thought about that hope many times since, and although he didn't come home that day, the hope of Easter, hope in the Savior, is ultimately what brought me peace.  Hope in His life and His resurrection; hope in His gospel and His priesthood; hope in covenants made in the temple; hope that no matter the outcome for my baby in this life, he would be mine throughout eternity because of the One who came to save.

By the following Easter, my miracle boy was not only home, but healing: growing, learning, crawling around to find plastic eggs and putting the basket on his head. My busy, darling one-year-old was such a gift to me. He is still a gift. His scary beginning will always be monumental; a time that taught me much about hope in the the Lord and, forever after, shaped my faith.

For that, I am grateful.

heaven

As I folded the laundry, Lea tip-toed in to show me she could walk "en pointe" (a term my ballet-loving girl learned from a Fancy Nancy book). 

She said, "You used to do this when you were three or four, too"
"I did?  How do you know? You weren't born yet."
"Where was I?"
"Still in heaven, waiting to be born, with Heavenly Father and Jesus."
"Oh yeah.  I like them. And they love me.  We played games there. Matching... and Candyland. And, there are grown up games, too. You would like it."


I'm not sure she can really remember heaven, but I'm glad she knows she is loved by her Heavenly parents. In church, when she climbs on my lap during the sacrament, I whisper in her ear, "The bread and water remind us that Jesus loves Lea." I hope it sticks in her brain for always. Knowing who you are makes all the difference.

Listening

We pulled up to the curb to wait, like we do every day, for the elementary schoolers. The little girls were both asleep in their car seats as Davis wormed his way from the back seat, up to the front, and climbed onto my lap. He snuggled in and I asked him about his day at school. He told me about the cutting project he did at school; about waving to his speech teacher, but not going to her class today; about the story his teacher read and the game he played. He talked and talked, which isn't typical for my boy. Or, maybe it just isn't typical because he is in the middle of our family, smashed between two very talkative sisters. For these minutes, he had my full attention. I listened with my ears and my heart and I remembered how much I adore him. Mid sentence he said, "I want a kiss and a hug!"

I obliged.

"I love you Davis,"

"Yeah. Daddy loves me, too."

I'm glad he knows, and I'm trying to show it more often. I want to create more of these perfect moments.