love-loss-festivity-and ordinary days

And just when I think I might have opened a chapter called moving forward--I arrive again at Christmastime. The children's intense anticipation, the familiar music, the lights--blue and white against deep, dark, snowy nights, are at one moment a completely wonderful source of joy, and the next an almost unbearable source of melancholy. Here I am balancing and managing the magic with the to-do's as a single parent for the third year, hoping that I can keep that childlike love for this time of year alive in them, in spite of my inadequacies and exhaustion. 

Have you ever prayed so earnestly just to ask God, "If I can't have what I want now, could you please just let me know what You want."  

"And if that is too much to ask could you just please let me know that You are there?"

 Friday December 14, I took the little ones to preschool and started my Christmas shopping. By noon I had picked them up, returned home, and heard the first of the tragic news from Connecticut.  Prayer is long distance compassion, charity in thought and deed, opening up your heart in an attempt to share the burden of another person's pain that would be otherwise unbearable.  I saw the flags in mourning around town by evening, and they reminded me to pray.

 Saturday morning the children and I walked over to the church for the ward Christmas breakfast.

Little pumpkin.

 The primary children performed a few Christmas carols. Not hard to pick out Bethany.

Saturday was a busy day, so I was grateful that our friends from the ward brought over a mountainous pan of pancakes, and filled our kitchen counter with trays of leftover fruit and ham--which kept the kids fed all day as I shuttled the girls back and forth, through the snow--which I was grateful was atmospheric but light, to their dance dress rehearsals.  

In the evening...the long awaited performance. The girls were in several numbers. Bethany's ballet class danced to Ave Maria.

Saturday I went to bed with a great sense of accomplishment, having survived the dance recital super Saturday.  I am sure the girls did as well. I don't know why that mood has to be so fleeting...might have had something to do with the Sunday morning rush to church, for which I was no match that day. William and I arrived after my Sunday school class was due to start and the kids had already been separated in to other classes, and I remembered that prayer.

"Are You there?"

"Are You watching this?"

"Could You please give me a little insight into just where this is headed?"

Sunday evening I was playing Christmas carols on the piano and the bishop stopped by with an envelope. Said someone had given it to him to pass to me.  I remembered that prayer again.

"Just let me know that You are there."

We have been blessed every Christmas of our life as parents by huge generosity from others. One year, when we were just students with two little boys, a whole clan adopted us and filled our home with decorations, and food, and gifts. I was pregnant that Christmas, but in January I miscarried.  I was devastated, but one thing stayed in the back of my mind. It was the love that I knew God had for us, because he had sent that family to us in December. I knew that He was there.  Sunday I was overwhelmed again. And humbled that I had wondered to begin with.

 It snowed again last week. 

 Grant was proud of his work, as he should be. I was too weather wimpy to go out and help.

Wednesday was the last day of school for the week, a half day.  I went to the elementary school in the morning to help out with the Christmas festivities in Caitlin's class.  Ava's mom brought Rudolph Sandwiches. I passed out pretzels, and wiped up peanut butter, and snitched M&Ms. As I walked through the halls I could hear the buzz of excitement from the classrooms, and felt humbled by a huge sense of gratitude for peace and safety in our school that morning.  For some reason, it brought to mind my this clip of concentration camp survivor Gerda Weissmann Klein...and her words 

"I am no better... than those who never lived to know the magic of a boring evening at home," 

and I thought what a blessing it is to have another day to celebrate... holidays and ordinary days. 

blessing day

Sunday October 9, we drove up to attend church with Aunt Judy and family, and Grandma Julia. It was blessing day for the kids' new cousin Desiree.

Judy made us a delicious spaghetti dinner. We brought french bread and dessert.  Sam has such a passion for bread.  I really hope he can serve a mission in Italy. The Italians would love his appreciation for food.

The kids love spending time with their cousins.

Olivia never looks happier than when she is with an animal.

As we drove away I reminded the kids that we should be grateful that we had a perfect day with the cousins instead of getting stuck with a flat tire or broken brakes in the mountains.  I had decided to take the scenic route to Magna, through Heber.  Definitely not the short cut.  The van started wigging out as we drove down the pass just out of Park City.  I pulled over and crept along the side of the road and prayed and told the kids to pray and imagined that the van just needed a mental massage, just to get it's central nervous system reset.  After several miles the brakes stopped shuttering and haven't given me any trouble since.  I guess I won't be commuting to Park City. 

general conference weekend

Friday April 1, Sam, Ben, and Bethany went to a movie with Grandma, forgot what it was called, with Jake what's-his-name.  They spent the night at Grandma's house.  It's becoming a popular weekend destination.  Kyle went to his friend's house. I took the younger kids to the Dollar Theatre to see Yogi Bear. Popcorn eater for sure.  Spent about an hour playing on the motorcycles in the arcade and on the Fooseball table that is broken so it shoots the pucks out for free.  Burger King for dinner on the living room floor, watched Zack and Cody.  Fun memories.

Saturday morning, tried to get some cleaning done before the first session of General Conference, not too successful.  Woke up feeling quite lonely...how is that possible around here?  Sometimes I ask myself that.  I did what I do when I feel that way. Prayed.  Had the feeling things would be better...but also figured it wouldn't be because God would take all my problems away. Kind of felt a little irritated at the whole I'll feel peace from the Conference message thing, was more in the mood to have the problems go away.  After the first session, I settled for the peace.  I felt grateful for General Conference.

Here's the scene of our mid-sessions picnic, an unhealthy assortment of what I could find in the kitchen.  We ate chips and  drank rootbeer, made a new friend, shared our chips with her dog.

Sunday morning.  This always happens in April.

We were all happy to get to spend Sunday at Aunt Judy and Uncle Jeremy's house.  Here is Ben with Uncle Joe and Uncle Don and the three cousins born this fall, Mia, Raymond, and Sophie.  It was nice to see Grandpa Bob and Grandma Julia too.

We still had our traditional conference weekend cinnamon rolls.  Olivia would be upset if we didn't.  I'm still in the cheating mode.  These are like Smith's brand orange rolls or something.  Low investment high return.

And speaking of Sophie, she's seven months now.  Scooting, sputtering, sitting up, and spitting out green peas.

january mindset

A month or so ago, on a Saturday night, driving home from dropping Ben off at play practice I ran in to a little local market for a few requested items: Red Vines, chips and salsa, acne cream.  To survey the items at the check out  counter was a moment of I've-got-teenagers-running-my-life-realization...and I was okay with that..grateful to anticipate a Saturday movie night together.

So this week, alone in the girls' room, tidying up after the off to school rush I noticed a torn-out-of-a-spiral- notebook-sheet-of- paper speared on to the nail holding up the Twilight Eclipse calendar. The girls are growing up too.  Some one's New Year's resolutions were carefully listed on the paper.  Read my scriptures every day.  Exercise.  My favorite was Be nice to everyone... I hoped that included me.

New Year's day I had to come out of denial and call the heater repairman..again... It actually felt warmer outside than in.

Caitlin and I were enjoying how the snow was sparkling in the sun.

Ben was born to wear that hat.

So I've been asking myself if I've grown too old to believe in New Year's resolutions.  Maybe I'm just cynical about arbitrary dates in general, but  I do believe in change. I live hoping that Ether 12:27.."then will I make weak things become strong unto them.."  could hopefully, possibly apply to me. How about this one...my laundry has stayed in the laundry room for two or so months now, only  emerging clean and folded.  That's a positive change from the living room piles- in-waiting. Here's a peek at today's laundry status.

Critical but contained.

I've been grateful for Grandma Martha.  She took the boys and Sophie Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning while Caitlin was at preschool.  I've been trying to catch up on a variety of things...not sure which to attend to first...don't admit that to a therapist...I've been doing a lot of praying as I go throughout the day. Praying for help to accomplish what needs to be accomplished, and to put off and let go of the associated stress of what doesn't...and to recognize the blessing of each day...moment...and reminding God that I'm putting this in His hands.  Grandma Martha has been an angel on Earth this week.

Sophie's four months old now.  I took her to her well-visit. Thirteen pounds, twenty-five inches long.  Speaking of angels, she had ear infections in both ears...but who would have known?  She never complained.

Caitlin entertained Buzz and Iron man this week.

And since get-the-kids-to-watch-less-television is always a part of the January mindset, I was grateful to see Caitlin initiating her own craft time.  I love her homemade paper purses!

I found a pile of Cd's on sale at Target, without the cases.  Ben was excited to see them and set to work making a compilation of his favorite songs, mostly 80's. Since there was no case, he engineered his own, folding the paper, decorating it, and laminating it with packing tape. I love the way Ben's mind works...his ingenuity, resourcefulness, and sophisticated interested nostalgia rock.