i love you, too

To my sweet little girls,

Sometimes I spend too much time focusing on our naughtiness.  I guess it helps me when I can laugh at us and our foibles (that's a fancy word for mistakes).  Yes, it is true that we have our share of not-so-picture-perfect moments as a family.   However, just tonight as I was just getting ready for bed, I was thinking about each of you.  And when I did, I didn't think of all the stinker-ish times.  I thought about how good you are.  I thought about how often you make me smile.  The thought crossed my mind that even though you sometimes make me want to pull my hair out (or say a naughty word), I most often feel something entirely different.

I love you, too.

Ryenne.  I love your creativity.  I love the way you decorated your room for Christmas, with snowflakes and cute letters (spelling s.n.o.w.!.)  hanging from the ceiling.  I smile every time I look in your bedroom.  I'm so glad that you're not in any hurry to grow up, although it's still happening awfully fast!  You just take your time, my little girl.  I'm proud of the way you take care of your younger sisters when you have a mind to (and realize that it's normal for you to not always have a mind to!), and for the fun you and Claire had tonight when you put on some Christmas music and danced around the family room.  I like the way you sing your way through whatever you might be doing.  You are creative and artistic and always quick to see the beauty in the world around us.   It's fun to see your sense of humor change and you often make me laugh out loud.  I think we will always be good friends, which makes me glad because I like you!  You are kind, thoughtful, and a blessing to our family.

Kate.  I love the way you use your time.  You are always wanting to learn and are often found sewing, drawing, or reading.  I am so glad about your new found love of anything artistic and it makes me happy to see you crocheting!  I never thought to do anything like that when I was your age, and I'm so happy you asked Grandma to teach you.  I like that when you want to learn something, you'll find a way!  My heart feels so good when I see the way you play with your sisters and I have loved watching you teach Emmy everything from reading and handwriting, to art and gymnastics.  You are becoming much more patient and are learning to work harder when something is difficult for you!  Good for you Kate!  It makes me happy every time you leave me a note on my pillow.   You often remember to tell me thank you for the things I do for you.  You have a big heart and are quick to notice when someone needs a kind word or a hug.  You are a good girl, through and through.

Emmy.  My little energizer bunny, how you are growing!  I am so glad I have a half-day with you this year.  I love to see your toothless grin as you get off the bus each day.  I love our special time together in the afternoons when I read you a story or help you with your piano and homework.  You try hard to learn and to excel in school and in piano.  It's fun to watch your excitement when you learn something new and set out to become better!.  You are becoming more patient all the time, which is something that is hard for you.  I am so happy about the way you treat Claire and she is so excited when you come home from school.  She looks up to you and learns so much from you.  I love you and you make me very happy.   I can't look at your cute freckles and perfect smile without my heart feeling like it will burst!

Claire.  You are the sunshine in our family.  We all love you so much and you make us smile from sun-up to sun-down.  I love the way you dance all day long, singing and twirling and making me smile.  I have to laugh at all the funny things you say.  I like nothing better than to cuddle with you in the rocking chair and read a book with your cute little cheeks next to mine.  I'm so glad you are quick to pass out hugs and kisses!  I don't get much done when you are around, but you are so much fun that I hardly even mind.  No terrible two's for you!  You have made an age that used to seem so difficult into one that seems so fun and enjoyable.  I wouldn't trade my days with you for anything.  You are an absolute joy and we all adore you.

Oh, my little girls.  I could go on and on about all the good I see in you and how my heart is so proud of you.  I love who you are and all that you are becoming.  I thank Heavenly Father each day for your special spirits and am in awe that He has entrusted me with your care.   We are growing together, you and I.  Thank you for being patient with me and loving me all the same.  That is the best thing about being part of a family, isn't it?  Learning, growing, faltering, and forgiving.

I love you.  I love being your mom.  And guess what?

You make me smile much, much, more often than you make me cry.

guilty as charged

We had a rough morning.

In fact, I lost my temper at Ryenne, who then reported me to the authorities.  She told Courtney that I swore at her.  This, of course, immediately peaked his interest.  "She did, huh?," Courtney asked (with a half-grin, I'm sure). 

Sure enough, Ryenne threw me under the bus.  "She told me that I had made her morning h-e-double-hockey-sticks."

She's right, I did.  But I was right, because she did.  I will be truthful and admit my guilt- yes, I did say just that.  But does it really count if I tell you that deep down, I really don't feel all that guilty about it, because I was just calling it the way I saw it?  It was the truth, I swear.  (Oh, I already did that, didn't I.)

To her credit, she plead guilty.  When her Dad asked her what she thought about the whole ordeal, she answered, "I think she was kinda right."  Kinda?  Well, I'll take what I can get.

So, for the verdict:  Guilty times two.  I'm guilty for having said a naughty word, and Ryenne's guilty for having deserved it. 

Give us a little credit, please.  At least we're honest.

dumbstruck

When December arrived, I asked the girls what things they wanted to do the very most in preparation for Christmas.  (It seems like this time of year can get so busy because I sometimes try to do everything instead of choosing just a few special activities to enjoy.)  The girls almost immediately agreed that one thing they really wanted to do was to make gingerbread houses.  A few days later, I happened to be at IKEA, where I picked up a kit for each of the girls.  They were so excited when I brought them home and from then on, I was asked "When can we decorate our gingerbread houses?" about every five minutes from morning until night.  

We finally got around to assembling and decorating them and they had a marvelous time.  As we set to work beautifying our little cottages, I was reminded of the time my best pal Valerie and I made some gingerbread houses in college.  If I must say so myself, they were pretty darn fancy.  Yards, fences, the whole nine yards.  It was so much fun. 

Of course, Ryenne had to build a "no copying" fortress around herself in order to protect her artistic notions from being duplicated by her sisters. ( As she often reminds me, it's not easy being the big sister.)

This time around we didn't get quite so involved, but even so- the girls were pretty impressed with my mad gingerbread-house-decorating-skills.  In fact, Kate told me repeatedly that she was "dumbstruck" with my abilities.  

I'm pretty sure I can't remember making anyone dumbstruck in recent memory, let alone one of my children.  Let's just say gingerbread houses will be a tradition from now on.

a noble endeavor

Oh, Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree!

Each year, the day or two following Thanksgiving, we bundle up and head into the wilds to find the perfect Christmas tree with which we might adorn our little abode for the holidays.  This year we found no reason to not do the same- even though we had much more snow than usual.  No, we were not about to be deterred! 

We usually plan the day with most of my siblings and their families, but this year they were all party poopers (okay, maybe they were just busy), and so it was just us and the every fun-lovin' Shawn, Kelsey, and Grams. 

We didn't get away too early.  In fact, it was almost two o'clock in the afternoon by the time we headed out.  (Mistake #1).  We (as in my little bunch- Shawn was much more prepared) didn't take a truck, because we don't own one big enough for all of our kiddos (Mistake #2). 

We stopped to get our permits and then headed for the hills.  Usually we don't have much more than a skiff of snow, and so the girls were all thrilled with our prospects of tree hunting in a winter wonderland.  It sounds so much more festive, don't you think? 

After approximately one-hundred-and-three "are-we-there-yet's", we started spotting some holiday worthy specimens.  We even pulled over and marked the snow to remind us where a few better looking ones were standing, deciding to keep looking just to make sure.  After all, who wants to cut the very first one you see? Besides, I always know which tree is the right one when I hear angels singing at the sight of it.  Always.   After years of tree hunting, I have found that I never hear angels until we have hiked all over the mountain first.  Let's face it, there's nothing romantic about grabbing the first tree you see, chopping it down, throwing it in the truck, and heading home.  It's all about communing with nature, you see.

Waiting to hear angels, we headed further up the mountain.  Before long, the snow became much deeper.  Our trusty suburban was holding it's own, but just about the time Courtney spoke aloud, "I don't know how much further we should go" we slid off the road and into the deep snow.  What is worse, underneath the snow was ice. There was no getting back on the road for us!  Shawn, of course, couldn't resist laughing and suggesting that it might be better if I could try hearing angels about a mile back. 

In an effort to pass us so he could pull us out, Shawn tried to drive up and around.  However, as soon as he tried, he too slid off the road, barely missing us.  Not wanting to stop and get stuck as we had done, he gunned it and headed down through the drifts, engines roaring and snow flying everywhere.  Fortunately, after a very impressive performance, he made it back up to the slippery road.   All the while the girls were hooting and hollering, "AWESOME!  That was totally wicked!"  Claire, hearing the girl's approval of his driving skills, started yelling, "AWESOME!  Shawn is totally NAKED!" 

We are nothing if not exciting. 

After a dozen tries, Shawn was finally able to pull us out, after which we decided the safest route (for us, anyway) was to back slowly down the mountain.  (Turning around was not an option.)  And so it was that we backed about two miles down the mountain, all the while listening to Claire sing, "Shawn is naked!  Shawn is totally naked!" 

Finally, we got a place where we could safely turn around- right where we had found our first possibilities!  Because it was getting dark by this point, Shawn, Kelsey, and I decided to quickly hike around for a bit and see what we could see.  We did find a few options (don't let him fool you, I am convinced that Shawn is even more picky than I when it comes to finding the perfect tree), we found that all the trees were somewhat yellow-ish and we chickened out after all. 

And so it was that we headed the rest of the way out in the dark, tree-less and laden with unhappy girls.  Eventually we convinced them that we would get a tree, just not on this particular day!  Besides, we reasoned, this adventure would go down in the books as one of the most memorable tree hunting excursions so far!  We all stopped off to have dinner (looking a bit like a bunch of soggy loggers, I might add), and called it a day.  An unsuccessful tree hunting day, but a fun day nevertheless. 

A week later, we were determined to try it again.  However, after a little bit of research and a pow-wow with Shawn, we reluctantly agreed that there was just too darn much snow this year.  In order to get to where we wanted to go, we would need several more snowmobiles than we could round up and the logistics just didn't make it seem feasible.  Going against our grain, we decided to buy one.  Upon announcing this to the girls, their hair stood on end as they shrieked, "What!!!!!  We are going to buy our Christmas tree?!!!!!!"  Really, you would have though we'd committed murder. 

Eventually, we did find our tree.  A noble fir.  And you  know what?  As soon as I saw it, I heard angels singing.  Really!  In a tree lot.  In town.  First tree I saw.  (The wonder if it all never ceases to amaze me.)

Despite the girls' initial disappointment, they were quite happy with our find.  It is beautiful, just the right height, and fills our home with a glorious smell.  Sunday night we filled up every branch with lights and shiny ornaments of every kind.  Nothing matches.  In fact, our noble fir looks homemade and happy, just the way we like it.   

As the girls were scrambling for ornaments and Christmas music blaring, the chaos seemed much too much (to us old folks anyway).  However, I had to smile as I heard Kate sigh and pronounce, "This is paradise."

Happy girls, a beautiful tree, and twinkling lights..  I love the memories that are shared as favorite ornaments are rediscovered, admired, and remembered.  It's not fancy, but our tree, our noble fir, tells our story.  I wouldn't want it any way. 

I agree, Kate.  Paradise, indeed.

bringin' home the bacon

 

"Bringing home the bacon" sounds a bit more snappy.   But in this case, Emmy brought us a pie. 

The last day before Thanksgiving break, our elementary school always holds a Turkey Trot.  The older grades run a mile, the younger set a half mile.  At the finish line, the winners of each class receive a turkey while second place bring home a pumpkin pie. 

In all of our family history of Turkey Trotting (I've run one or two myself), our Thanksgiving dinner had never before been graced by any of the previously mentioned prize goods.  Until this year, that is.

This year's training went about like all the others.  No one gave a second thought to it.  The many notes sent home throughout November, urging all to train like the dickens?  (Come and win the turkey! they urged.)  Didn't do a thing.  In typical family fashion, we gloriously succeeded in procrastinating until the big day.  Sure enough though, when I picked up the girls from school the day before the event, Kate and Emmy were all fired up.  On the list of to-do's was 1) going to the track to run and 2) using the treadmill to practice running.  (Both, mind you.  This was not an either/or list).  They were determined and I tried not to dampen their enthusiasm when I gently explained that it might be a little late to train. 

The next morning, however, the two of them donned their best running attire and talked strategy the whole way to school.  Kate explained the finer points of breathing and told Emmy that everyone will start really fast, but it is best to go slower until the end and then run fast-as-all-get-out.  Kate had her eye on the turkey, Emmy was sizing up the pie.  I smiled to myself and remembered the time when I went to the race to cheer Ryenne on.  She came running by at the very tail end of her second grade class.  I had to laugh out loud when she grinned and hollered over, "Hi Mom!  I just told my friend that last's the best of all the game!"  

So you can imagine my surprise when I picked up Emmy from kindergarten and she stepped off the bus holding a pumpkin pie and grinning from ear to ear.  Second place and a pumpkin pie- just as she had hoped.  She couldn't have been more pleased.  Her secret?  Kate's strategy!

Kate never did bring home that turkey, but she had a great time!  Even better?  There were one or two kids behind her!  She and Ryenne were pleased as punch to not be the last ones across the line.  Some of us run just for fun, it seems. 

The others run for pumpkin pie.

back in business

Seems we are back in the cast business.  Pink and sparkly of course.  (That tends to be the color of choice around these parts.)

This time?   Broken arm.  Again.  Except this round, Claire chose the opposite arm.  Same break, different arm. 

Don't know how it happened.

Don't know when.

(Don't know how I  became such a darn good conscientious mom.) 

Lucky for us, DCFS hasn't hauled us away yet.  In fact, the doctor (our pediatrician this time) insisted that these things are hard to avoid and urged me not to feel bad about it.  As you can see, he's a super nice guy.

So.  We are all bandaged up and on the mend.  Claire feels sparkly and pretty so all is well.  Let's just say this little gal of ours is a really, really, REALLY busy girl and leave it at that. 

All's well that ends well, eh?

tonight

I haven't written in a while. Life has been busy, yes. But mostly, I don't write when I am can't explain how I'm feeling.

Almost a week ago, Heavenly Father's plan unfolded in my back yard. Three teens, one car, and lives forever changed. Completely unaware, we were tucked safely inside our home, listening to Christmas music and decking the halls. At the sound of sirens, we watched out the window and uttered silent prayers, too late and far too helpless to do anything.

I didn’t do anything.

A life was lost right outside my window- and me, busy in my little nest, didn't even know it was happening. Perhaps I could have helped. If we had only heard it happen. If only we’d gotten someone there a little earlier. I’ve agonized for days.

Tonight I was reminded. What might have been doesn’t matter. The “what might have been” was never part of the plan. . . His plan. However hard it is to understand, I know things like this don’t happen by chance.

A year ago, when my little brother Shawn had his accident, I was driving down the road when I received a phone call. It was my mom, letting me know a few quick details and asking me to first, call the temple and then second, call my brothers and sisters and tell them to start praying. I didn’t know much, but I knew it wasn’t good. After all, a head on collision with a semi? I knew what that meant. Just as quickly as I felt the panic begin to settle in, I received the clearest impression that I have ever known. In just a few moments, I came to understand very distinctly that what had happened- and what was to follow, was not a mistake. What had taken place that morning was not a mere coincidence. I knew, without a doubt, that everything that had unfolded that morning- every little detail- had happened exactly according to a plan. A very careful, deliberate plan. In that moment, I knew that my Heavenly Father knew me. He knew my family, He understood my little brother, and He most definitely knew what He was doing.

I didn’t know if my little brother would live. . .that was unclear. What I did know, and what I will never forget, is that our lives don’t happen by chance. We have a Father in Heaven who knows us completely. He knows us where we are strong, and He knows us where we are weak. He knows where He needs us, and perhaps more importantly, where we need Him.

We are part of something much bigger than ourselves.

I didn’t know Devin. But he has changed me. His family and their quiet faith have changed me forever. I have been reminded to slow down and look beyond my “to-do’s”. I hope to listen, to not miss an opportunity to save. I reaffirm that the details of my life are orchestrated by a power greater than my own and recommit to do all that I can to fulfill the unique mission that is my own. I can seek to open my heart and understand that the words I say and the way in which I say them have great power. I may lift with each word I speak, or I may destroy. This life is temporary, but my family is eternal.

For nearly a week, I haven’t had the heart to write. I have been too unsettled, almost terrified of what might come. After all, what will I face? Who will I lose? And perhaps worst of all, am I doing it right? Courtney smiled gently through my tears and reassured, “You can only do your best.”

Tonight, as I look around my quiet (but very messy) home, I see the lights and am reminded of the season we are celebrating. Yes, I will face hard things. I cannot escape the inevitability of losing someone I love. Sadly, my “best” will always fall short of what I desire to be.

Fortunately, in all His wisdom, Heavenly Father knew all that. He understood me perfectly, and He sent someone to make up the difference. Tonight my heart is celebrating that knowledge. I feel peace in the promise of eternity. I rejoice in His perfect understanding and find hope in His son, Jesus Christ.





Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.