happiness

I awoke early this morning.  Earlier than the little ones, that is.  I laid in bed for a while before I wrestled myself onto my knees to say the first prayer of my day.  Then I climbed right back under the warm covers to have a little time with my scriptures.
I don't do this everyday, but my best ones almost always begin this way.

As I read, I contemplated the opportunity that is mine.

I wake each morning with a clean slate.  A whole day of my design.  I am the architect that decides how I will build each moment.  Not only of my life, but of four little ones whose lives are in many ways molded by my choices. 

Some days it feels like a burden.  Overwhelming, discouraging.  Even frightening.

But today?  My life is a blessing. 

This very moment, and the ones that will follow are of my making.  I may not choose what comes my way, but I do choose what to make of it.  I choose how I respond.  I choose to turn away or to embrace.  I make my day.  And what do I make of it?  If I am wise, I will spend it doing those things that matter.  This moment in my life is a time to love.  A time to build.  A time to be faithful.  My opportunity is to prepare little minds.  To fortify and strengthen.  To labor for the welfare of those I love.  To be firm to that which I believe to be true. 

As I do these things, making our home a refuge amidst the goings on of our lives, I know that a loving Heavenly Father is watching over me.  Protecting me and mine.  Preparing us and warning us against danger and helping us to prosper amidst the storms of life.  I find hope in knowing that He has a plan for me, and that as I strive to do my best he will strengthen me where I am weak.

This is joy.  This is peace.  This is a heart full of thanksgiving. 





This Is A Time To Be Happy.

i'm practically famous

At the encouragement of a good friend of mine, I submitted an essay to the Power Of Moms website. I ended up taking the leap and I submitted one of my past posts.   Anyway, I was excited to hear that they are going to publish my essay this week.  You can check it out here.

The Power of Moms site is a fun place to check out, with tons of ideas and thought provoking articles about motherhood.  I'm all for anything that will be a cheerleader for motherhood.  (I can use all the help I can get!)

Anyway, that pretty much makes me famous. 

Or something like that.

finally. . .

Our girls feel like they are the most unfortunate girls in the world. 

To be quite honest, I must concur.  Each time I look at my children, I am overwhelmed at what a sad, pitiful existence they endure each and every day.  Tears to my eyes. . .tears to my eyes.

I suppose a parent should feel some satisfaction when their children feel that their lives are so overwhelmingly bleak.   Perhaps it means we are doing our jobs?  I remember thinking the same thing about my life as a child, and now I look back on my upbringing as being quite happy. 

I'm counting on the reverse psychology method.

Anywho.  One such reason for the girls to feel out of sorts about life in general is the simple fact that until two weeks ago, they had never been to Lagoon.

"Never, ever, ever!" 

Just in case you don't feel sorry for them yet, let me help them plead their cause. . .

According to their statistics, they are the only girls who have never been to Lagoon.  In fact, they are the only children (boy or girl) who had yet to experience the thrill. 

In the whole entire state.

Are you weeping yet?

After many, many sad lamentations about their meager circumstances, Courtney and I were forced to extend a hand of humanity.  (Only to ward off an investigation by the CPS, of course).

Here is the deal.  As part of this past summer's Child Labor Summer Camp, they were given the opportunity to earn "Daddy Bucks", which they could save for a family trip to the above Amusement Park.  Once they earned $100, we would give them a day off and buy them a ticket for a day of fun, fun, fun.   

Basically, we slave worked 'em to Lagoon.

We wore their fingers to the bone all through June and July, and as August came to a close, they had made it to $100.  By the skin of their teeth, that is.

But, a deal is a deal.  And so it was that we packed a lunch and loaded up the oldest three (what?  I sure didn't get a hundred buck's worth of work out of Miss Claire!), and headed toward our grand adventure.  

Other than the fact that we happened to pick the busiest day of the year (turns out that just about one hundred gigantic corporations slave-worked their employees to Lagoon too), we had a fabulous day.

If my memory serves me correctly, I recall that the girls were too chicken to ride about 75% of the rides (they get that from their Dad).  They are always a little bit hesitant about the "tummy rides", but usually ended up loving everything they dared try.  Kate was the one who was raring to try just about anything. . . up until it was time to climb into the ride, that is.  Maybe I should have pushed a little harder, but there is just something about shoving my sobbing eight year old into the roller coaster seats. . .I just couldn't do it.  (Again, just trying to avoid an investigation.)

We talked them into riding the Tidal Wave (I think that's what it's called).  It was pretty exciting at first, but after a few swings back and forth, Emmy wasn't so sure.

The Kiddie-land rides were a little more her speed.

The Twentieth Century swings were the definite favorites.  I think we went on that ride no less than 10 times.  I have to admit it was worth the price of the tickets to watch the girls experience the sensation of flying.  Complete joy!  I wish I could have captured their faces as they soared through the air.  It was so much fun to watch.

We had a blast on the Rattlesnake Rapids ride.  We were completely soaked by the end, but we laughed and laughed.  Even better?  We got to walk around for the rest of the day looking like we'd wet our pants. 

When all was said and done, we had a great time.  Even though we didn't experience a huge variety of rides, we spent a full day having fun and didn't leave until dark.  You could say we got our money's worth. 

And the girls? 

We're just hoping that this day at Lagoon will be the one little bright spot in an otherwise dismal existence. 

If we're lucky, it will at least be enough to get them through the next few months of pain and agony.

farm girls

This past summer, we five became genuine, bonified farm girls.

Well for one day each week, at least.

We volunteered at the American West Heritage Center, where we worked on the 1917 farm site.  Each Wednesday, we got dressed up in our vintage 1917 clothing, loaded up in our 2008 carriage, and headed to the farm.

As you might expect, the girls loved it.

The girls spent their days doing chores.  Funny how working is so much more fun when you are all dressed up.  A lot like play, actually.  In fact, if you can imagine the very best day of dress-up and pretend?  That is what the girls found at the farm.

They loved doing the laundry and milking the cow.

There were kittens to be tamed, chickens to feed, eggs to gather.

Butter to be churned, and friends to be played with.

Running under the trees, playing in the creek, and exploring in the barn were some of the favorite adventures.  On a lucky day, the girls might find a feather from one of the peacocks (the white ones were the most coveted.)

The girls sometimes helped with the big jobs, such as pitching hay and tromping it in the hay wagon after it was cut by the team of horses.  Often,  reporters gathered around taking pictures of the goings on, which landed Ryenne on the front page of the newspaper.  Famous farm girls, even!

Each morning, water had to be hauled, and porches swept.  Soon the farmhouse was filled with busy women, cooking the dinner meal on the wood stove.  Before we left for home, we gathered at the farm table under the trees for yummy hot food and fresh vegetables from the garden.

One day as we left, Ryenne told me, "I love the farm!  I feel like I really live here. . .like this is my house and these are my real jobs.  Sometimes I just like to pretend that it really is."

Me too.

There's just something magical about being stepping back in time.  Something that makes life seem a bit less complicated.  I loved watching the girls run across the lawn in their dresses, aprons, and boots.  Braids in their hair and smiles on their faces.  Each day was an adventure.  Birds to chase and stories of days gone past.  Feathers and pretty pebbles to tuck into apron pockets, awaiting another day's discovery.

So many things grow at the farm. 

Cows, chickens, horses.  Lambs.  Herbs are planted and  raspberries plucked off the vine.  Old fashioned flowers brighten the fence lines.  Seeds are scattered and memories planted.  Childhood is sown.  Imaginations are nourished.

The farm is a really good place to grow little girls.

leidertards and tutus

This is Claire.

This is how Claire looks almost every day.

At home.

At music class.

At the doctor.

And the ward party.

She calls this outfit her "ballet".

Lest she get tired of this outfit, she has a few other options, which she refers to as leidertards and tutus.  On a good day, she even wears two tutus.  We like to be thorough.

Claire spends her days dancing, singing, and watching ballet.  She can almost always talk someone into
"dancing with me", and has the girls roped into teaching her their moves.  After all, who can refuse these little legs?

Ryenne said yesterday that she is over 99 percent sure that Claire will grow up to be a professional ballerina.

We have the leidertard.  We have the tutu. 

So I'm pretty sure Ryenne is right. 

The rest is in the bag.

a wise choice

(You need not remind me how my prom dress looks like we are getting married.  And yes, I realize my sleeves are bigger than my head.)

The other night we were eating dinner when the conversation shifted to Prom. 

One of the girls asked Courtney if he had ever been to Prom, to which he answered that yes, he had.  Two times, in fact.

Of course, the next question was, "Did you go with Mom both times?"

Before he could answer, Ryenne did for him.  "No, only once,  He went with another girl, too."

Gasps all around!  Dad went on a date with another girl?

Quickly, Kate intervened. 

"That was when he didn't have much sense."

And then to her Dad she offered these words of approval, "You were wise to choose Mom."

In the face of Kate's wisdom, we were thankfully reminded of the happiness we share.

And all because Courtney chose to abandon an early life of sin.

way cooler than a yellow bus

On Labor Day the girls were spending a few hours at  Grandma's house, but what to their wondrous eyes did appear?

Bop and his Harley.

It's hard to believe, but that night was the first ride they had been on with Bop all summer (except that it was kind of already fall.)

Even Claire rode (we start 'em out early), and was muy impressed. 

"Claire like Harley-Harley," she repeated for days.

My girls were so inspired by their ride with Bop that they decided it would be very, very cool if he would take them to school on his bike.  As you might imagine, the next morning, they called him very early to arrange their pick up.  As it was very, very chilly, Bop declined and promised to take them on Friday, providing it was a little bit warmer.

So. . . .Friday morning, Ryenne called Bop first thing.

"Good morning, Bop!  Do you remember what day it is?"

Ryenne also requested that he bring a helmet for her that, preferably, did not look like an "army helmet".  (Fashion over function, always!  That's my Ryenne.)

So, Bop and the girls rode off into the morning, backpacks in tow. 

Later that afternoon, when I picked them up from school (in a much less flashy manner, I'm afraid), I asked them how the ride to school went.

"Fun!  But Cold!  And then Bop went the wrong way and we had to ride around all the buses!"

But the most important part? 

"Tons" of kids saw them arrive. 

Thanks Bop for giving us the "cool factor"!   It's nice to have a sweet ride, if only for a day.