the circle

Grandpa walked in slowly, leaning heavily on his cane. When he reached the couch, he carefully lowered his worn body down. "The arthritis is bad today. But, I'll feel better tomorrow. It always goes up and down."

My baby crawled over to him, pulled himself up to standing at the coffee table, and reached his hand over to rest on Grandpa's knee. It made the old man smile. Baby started to walk around the table, using it for support as he side-stepped along. "He's really coming along with that walking," Grandpa commented.

I marveled at the circle of life on display before me. One man, near the end, struggling to keep his mobility. One child, near the beginning, working to gain his. Both dependent on having something, or someone, help them with each step; walking carefully, cautiously. Moving on.

And, still smiling...

vacation

In the words of Mom's favorite...
"The packages have all been sent, the Christmas rush is through."

Phew!

After the Christmas program yesterday at Church, I finally feel like all the craziness of the holidays is finished. Now, it is time to just enjoy. Time to enjoy:
* no school
* sleeping in (a bit)
* holiday goodies (thanks to many delivering friends!)
* games
* play-doh marathons
* a bit of pre-holiday organizing
* (but not too much!)
* and books. Oh, how I've missed my friends! I haven't had a chance to read anything for too long. But, today, the kids and I took a trip to the library to stock up on books for the break, and audio books for the long car trip to Grandma's house. And, I was surprised to find TWO books on hold for me. Books I've been waiting 'in queue' for. Yeah!

I can't wait to get lost...

repetition

Yes, I said repetition. And a lot of it.

Back when I was young and easily bugged by my kid brother, he used to love the way his voice sounded saying the same phrase. Over. And over. And over again. In his case, he chanted, "Bicentennial, centennial." Over. And over. And over again. It was insanely annoying. Especially in the car. (Come on, back me up here, Kam!). I thought Preston was probably the ONLY child in the world obsessed as such, and it was my unlucky fate to have to take road trips with the kid.

Not so.

My boy; my sweet, nearly perfect (until he went to first grade), oldest child is also a repeater. Luckily, he hasn't yet chosen a 'special phrase' that he uses each time. But, anything that comes out of his mouth is subject for repeating. Just to make sure it still sounds as cool the second time. And the third. And the 15th.

"Five-oh-one. Five-oh-one. Five-oh-one. Five-oh-two. Five-oh-two. Five-oh-two. Five-oh-two."

Etc.

That is simply ONE example of ONE time (out of many today, unfortunately) that I had to remind Dallin that repeating things over and over again is annoying to those around you.

It is only the first day of Christmas break. Help!

P.S. I have to say, by way of redemption, Dallin IS my most festive child, so it is fun to have him around. When he's not busy repeating everything, he SINGS Christmas carols all around the house. It is darling and reminds me of the magic of Christmas.

P.P.S. For my CS friends...if you haven't already, you need to check out the light display on Windjammer that, as Kate says, "dances to the music." Drive by with your kids. They'll love it!

it's magic

"I just like to have a little magic in my life."

That's what my friend, Rachael, said to her husband (a rocket science engineer who makes bio fuel in his garage, just for fun), when he asked her why she wasn't curious about how some gadget worked. Like Rachael, I'm clueless when it comes to the 'hows' of almost everything. And, I sort of enjoy the ignorance. When I turn the car key, "vrooom" the car starts up. Magic! When I flip a switch...light! Magic! When I push the little ON button, "click" the TV is magically glowing back at me.

So, even though I have no idea how it happens that a tiny camera, embedded in my computer, can transmit the image my beautiful baby boy 600 miles away to Grandma's house, I'm certainly grateful for this technological magic. Here he sat, digging into his first-ever chocolate cupcake after the strains of "Happy Birthday" bellowed, surround-sound style, from here in our home AND through the speakers of the computer. On the other end, a roomful of grandmas and grandpas and other grand folks enjoyed their own dessert and watched the birthday boy smear said cake high and low, as virtually all one-year-olds do. Virtually.

It was magical. And, amazing. And I'm so glad they could join in his one-year-old celebration, even from afar. Hooray for iChat!

Happy Birthday, Bitty Boy!

wanna know a secret?

I hate to spoil the surprise, but I think you're getting a fleece blanket for Christmas.

Based on the 3 hour line I waited in at the cutting table in JoAnn's today, I'm pretty sure EVERYONE in the country is getting one. Fleece was, apparently, a screamin' deal this weekend. At least, that is what the mile-high piles in each cart would suggest. I was just trying to pick up quilt fabric so I can properly welcome my new niece to the world when I was bombarded with the hoards of crafters craving the soft stuff.

Luckily, the Christmas Spirit is still fresh and full. People were chatting with one another about their fleece selections (and wondering, aloud, what I could possibly be making without a stitch of fleece in my basket), laughing with the cutting table employees, and sharing coupons.

Thankfully, sharing coupons. Because I'd grabbed the wrong ad and mine had expired.

By way of advice, if you should venture out to JoAnn's during the fleece extravaganza, do take time for a full meal. The clementine and two pieces of fudge I shoved in my mouth by way of 'lunch' before I left didn't really do it for me. I came home with a headache, a growling tummy, some darling fabric, and a hope that my trips to the craft store are through until January, at least!

thanks giving

As a kid, Thanksgiving Day always seemed like it was a Sunday. Dinner at Grandma's table, surrounded by cousins and homemade rolls, gratitude and thanks paramount in mind...it just seemed like a worship-ful kind of day. That is, until we finished eating and headed to the bowling alley!

Today brought beautiful fall weather. Chad rounded up kids and company and got everyone out of the house while I stayed behind to tend the turkey and the sleeping tots. In the quiet kitchen I chopped, stirred, whipped, peeled and sliced. And I contemplated my blessings. Oh, so many, many blessings! I made a list in my head, had a prayer in my heart. It was a worshipful moment, a time of gratitude and peace.

A very thankful Thanksgiving.

gratitude

I went to Church one week after having my baby, but my arms were empty. Baby Dallin was still in the NICU, struggling for life. I hadn't even been able to hold him yet. The week had been a blur. The unbelievable was happening, and I desperately needed to feel the love of my ward family. Little baby Daniel was also at church that day. He was only a couple weeks old. His mom brought him over to me during the meeting and placed him in my arms. For those few minutes, I felt what my arms had been aching for all week. Her sensitivity to my needs was amazing. When I gently handed her perfect baby back, I didn't feel angry at my own situation or jealous of her beautiful boy. I just felt intense gratitude at the love being shown to me. She smiled at me and said, "If Daniel can do some small service, he should be allowed that opportunity."

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One of my most treasured possessions is a note written to be by another young mom I knew in Kentucky. Dallin had just, joyously, come home from the hospital. His life was the result of many capable hands, loving prayers and Priesthood blessings. I was so grateful to everyone who helped us, prayed for us. And, in the mail came a sweet note that said, in part, "I just want to thank you for the opportunity to pray for your baby. It has been a faith building experience for me and a chance to teach my children about prayer." I couldn't believe, after all everyone had done for me, this woman was THANKING me for the chance to serve.

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One of those brave souls I have mentioned lately is my friend, Shaina. She is currently facing down her own battle for the life of her baby. She's stronger than me, I think. Her faith and fortitude amaze me. Her dedication and diligence are unwavering. But, because I've been there, I have to think she has moments of doubt, of weaker-than-you-want faith. I hope she can feel the prayers being offered for her, the love we all share for her son, the hope for their future.

I've been priviledged to enjoy a front row seat to some of the goodness being offered on their family's behalf. This weekend some friends and I are hosting a craft boutique, selling many wonderful, beautiful things, made lovingly and donated willingly, for Kimble. So many, many people have helped. Many who know and love Shaina, and many who have never met her. The generosity is overwhelming. The love, amazing.

I'm convinced that one of the reasons we are asked to suffer in this life is to build empathy; to learn to 'mourn with those that mourn and comfort those that stand in need of comfort.' In the six years since Dallin's birth, I've witnessed the suffering of others with new eyes. I better understand a mother's desire to let her newborn be of service to another. I am more aware of the blessings that come from praying for, and with, others. There is still so, so much I have to learn, but these lessons are a tender mercy; they put my own heartache in perspective and teach me what it means to love.

It has been a very full and very, very happy day. I'm exhausted in a so-filled-up-with-appreciation kind of way. It has been a beautiful start to this week of Thanks-giving.

Goodnight.