A Simple Something

Ripples

2012-02-01T14:40:00.019-05:00

My little brother Mark lost a good friend in an avalanche on Saturday morning. My heart hurts for him in a way that I can't explain. I didn't know his friend, Alecs, but I know Mark, and I know loss. I find my mind drifting to that mountain, reaching out to him, grasping to make sense out of tragedy, and out of irony.

My brothers and their friends are outdoorsmen.

Serious Outdoorsmen.

They're the ones you see clinging to cliffs and tearing down mountains thinking: Man! I could never do that!

They pulse with a kind of energy that I manage to muffle and stuff within me far too often.

I envy their drive- their boldness- the way they inhale life and meld themselves with nature.

I'll admit, my insides tremble and my heart beats faster every time I hear they're off to climb another foreign peak, scale another cliff, conquer another mountain pass... But a larger, louder part of me longs to feel that connected to my body, my body to the earth, the earth to heaven.

I'm learning to trust their abilities and experience. I've heard them temper passion with wisdom and seen them bow to the forces of nature.

Mark with Alecs, Thursday afternoon

Mark could sense the danger last week. Too dry a winter packed a slick base for the recent snowfall.

"Be on your best behavior kids cause this is just the overture!"

Just one of his many posts and cautionary cries only days before-- after watching far too many minor slopes collapse and crumble.

But calculating risk is always sketchy.

Saturday's perfection was palpable and the mountains beckoned bolder souls than he.

I often wonder how much of unexpected death is charted versus chance,... because I'm coming to see that in so many incomprehensibly divine ways, even accidental death ends up triggering life.

I did not know Alecs in life, but through his death, I have been touched by his passion for existence in a way that I hope will change me forever. And, I will be surprised if my brother's voice isn't louder and his heartbeat stronger because of it.

How many other lives will be nudged, shifted, transformed because of the exclamation point Alecs made when he left this world? And who can say what mark he will continue to make from those white powdery slopes in the sky?

Because if he could reach the heavens from the Earth, he can certainly reach the Earth now from the heavens.

For my little brother, Mark-- Thank You for your life, Alecsander Barton.

Your ripple has reached many shores.

I count each day a little life,

With birth and death complete;

I cloister it from care and strife

And keep it sane and sweet.

... With eager eyes I greet the morn,

Exultant as a boy,

Knowing that I am newly born

To wonder and to joy.

And when the sunset splendours wane

And ripe for rest am I,

Knowing that I will live again,

Exultantly I die.

O that all life were but a Day,

Sunny and sweet and sane!

And that at even I might say:

“I sleep to wake again.”

-Robert Service

Photo and poem posted on Facebook by Rick Black with Alecs Barton, Mark Hammond and friends under a starry sky in Moab.

May 18th, 2011

One Wild Ride-- Happy Birthday Girls!

2012-01-29T19:50:00.006-05:00

We celebrated Kate and Caroline's 4th birthday this week.

This was my favorite gift of theirs:

But I do believe it was the big fat roll of gum that made their day:

4 Years Old!!

It's surreal to think about. When I was expecting them, and hearing so many stories about raising twins, I established some mile markers in my mind to help me pace myself for the adventure ahead:

2 years of survival mode.

4 years of a wild ride.

I don't know whether setting those sights made it so, or if I was just dead on with my expectations, but so it has been. Those first two years were a marathon of physical endurance caring for 5 little dependants with two babes in arms and a traveling husband. Then, just before the two year bend, those babes climbed out of my arms and pulled us all onto the wildest ride of our lives. Twisting, turning, whipping and whirling us all about on their tempestuous twosome tour (how's that for alliteration!) They were kind enough to slow things down a bit last year, and I thought for sure the ride was coming to an end- months before I had projected, no less! But it was not to be... Just as I was exhaling and loosening my grip, they jerked us forward for another round of loops and hills and wild bends- as if to be sure they've stretched themselves and the rest of us to the outermost realms of possibility for two little toddlers.

I realize I'm talking a bit of nonsense. What I mean to say (and I've said it before) is:

WOW. What a ride! What a dizzying, exasperating, knee bending, wearying, soul stretching, heart-softening, arm filling, joyful ride!

I love these two little girls beyond expression. They are the twinkle and the sparkle and the laughter in our family. They fill me with happiness from one moment to the next. I am wistful to see their baby years come to an end, but I can't be sad for too long, because I see the beautiful, delightful little ladies they are becoming, and I can't go backwards! Well...as long as I don't have to let these cheeks go any time soon:

It has been a year of transormation-- from do it for me to do it myself (as so excellently expressed in their hairstyles)-- And from "Here we are" to "Here am I!" These girls share that exceptional bond that only twins know, and they clearly enjoy their sameness, but at the same time, they are learning to assert their individuality now, too. They are not one and the same, and they want to be sure we know that! We are having fun incorporating those distinctions into our interactions with them. Most of all, it's been a year of imagination, exploration and introduction to a bigger world. Their days are spent lost in a world of their own creation facilitated with props and dress ups of every kind. It's been fascinating to watch what happens when a three year old has a like minded little soul to share every imaginative whim and fantasy. I've decided that when it comes to creativity, two are definitely more fantastic than one.

So...is the wild ride really over?? Hmm....I think it's much safer not to even guess. I'll just keep trying to do what I've surrendered myself to over and over again:

Let go, breathe deeply and try your darndest to just enjoy the journey.

Here is a sampling of their year in pictures:

Happy Birthday Kate and Caroline!

I Tried..

2012-01-23T00:39:00.005-05:00

I never got a picture of the kids in their Christmas clothes, so I decided to recreate it today and get a shot after church.

Nice try.

Not one of the pictures I took has more than two children with their eyes open. Aaaand, I forgot to change the settings on my camera-- so grainy is what I get.

Do you want to guess on the chance I get another opportunity like this anytime soon??

They're still pretty darn cute, though, if I do say so. Kate's hair is classic.

Note To Self...

2012-01-18T13:30:00.001-05:00

Sleep on your posts before you publish them.

Wow. That was quite the Christmas rant! I read it again this morning and laughed (and tweaked it a little). Christmas really wasn't all that bad. I just didn't love all the food prep and kid prep to get out the door every day. (Whimp.) And I kept feeling some primal need to go out and climb a mountain...or snowshoe through the back country. Instead, I was helping myself to another truffle.

That's all.

FaLaLaLaLa

2012-01-18T01:02:00.007-05:00

Well now, I suppose I oughta say something about Christmas, now that I've had three weeks to get over it...

It all started out so pleasantly. I had my Christmas shopping (mostly) done by Thanksgiving. Christmas cards sent out the first week of December. Plenty of low key time for snowflake making and gingerbread- a party here, a concert there. It was all very lovely and festive and meaningful....until, oh, until about two days before Christmas. Then something snapped inside and I suddenly felt like I was trying to outrun a tsunami! I managed a narrow escape and all was well, but there were just so many darn places to be with so much darn holiday food! I'm completely spoiled. The past 4 Christmases have been so simple and peaceful. The first two because of the twins- (no point in going anywhere), and the last two because we were far far away with no place to be other than in front of a cozy crackling fire with hot cocoa and baklava.

We made it through the holiday week and exhaled a huge sigh of relief on New Years Day. We really are happy to be home for Christmas again, and can't think of anything we did that we would want to miss, but ironically, there's something about all of the food prep and eating and sitting and driving and hauling kids to and fro that just wore me right out! I'm working on a solution, because I'm the sort of girl that just loves to shake things up...I'll let you know what I come up with next year.

In the meantime, I have a handful of snapshots to document this Christmas. These are the little things that brought me joy this year...

I let the kids have at it with the gingerbread house. Loved it.

Snowflake Making.

Luke's annual quest to create the tiniest paper snowflake known to man.

At the moment, I can't even remember what these flowers are called, but they make me happy every year.

Helping out the Salt Lake Mission. Miri was nobly determined to be at the center of this project.

My wreaths. Love them.

(nephew) Chase and Jessica's wedding. Perfectly beautiful couple. Perfectly beautiful day.

Hard to tell from a picture, but this was the most beautiful tree we've ever had.

My alltime favorite Christmas decoration.

Oh the things you can think up with a few nativities. The twins thought of them all.

What to do when you have no fireplace?...(Who doesn't put a fireplace in a home?! Dodos.) (Who buys a home without a fireplace?!!! Doh.)

This little girl squealing with delight every time she heard Feliz Navidad- and breaking out in song and dance.

Taking pictures of Creighton eating chocolates for a gag gift. I laughed so hard I was in tears. (I realized it would never be nearly as funny to anyone else)

Part of our Middle Eastern spread for Christmas Eve at my sister Carolyn's home.

Dinner in Jerusalem and a silent nativity with Manheim Steamroller's Silent Night. Absolutely beautiful.

Christmas morning. I love that little ones can open one gift and be completely satisfied for the entire morning.

Abby's dream come true.

A mother's horror. Not my idea for this little 6 year old. At one point we thought it was lost forever, but no luck. FOUND -- two days ago. Bummer.

What I loved most about our family get togethers this year was the music. I had nothing to offer, but I sure enjoyed listening to everyone else...

Especially my cute grandma singing her amazingly endless repertoire of sweet little folk tunes:

That about wraps it up.

Happy New Year everyone!

Clearly We Have a Scissor Problem

2011-12-04T13:31:00.001-05:00

Kate cut her hair again.

I know that it's somehow all my fault, but I'm in denial.

Here's what the girls have to say about it:

Need a good salad?

2011-11-16T16:19:00.000-05:00

The taste of this one is still lingering in my mouth as I type...mmmmm......

I've been in a salad slump lately. No desire for the regulars and no oomph to look up something new. Today, while the kids were eating lunch, I finally picked up the last butternut squash sitting on my counter waiting for me to process and freeze (it's a great addition to hot cocoa and homemade mac-n-cheese), and started peeling....and decided to actually focus my brain on what I could make of it for lunch. This is what I came up with:

1 cup butternut squash chunks- about 1/2 inch thick
1/2 of a red onion chopped to similar sized chunks

caramelized these in a pan with some butter and coconut oil, salt and pepper

cut up some sort of fancy lettuce from Costco (any kind will do)

tossed it all with a yogurt dressing:

1/2 cup yogurt (I used my latest experiment: homemade kefir)
1 T lemon juice
1 T olive oil
1 small clove garlic (or 1/4 tsp garlic pwdr)
salt and pepper

YUMMY. Definitely blog-worthy. You might have to be a lover of simple tastes to like this one. I'm not sure. All I know is I was so engrossed in its surprising deliciousness I didn't even think to take a picture.

I Met A Boy - Something Like A Miracle.

2011-11-06T13:49:00.005-05:00

It was 1995. I had spent the past three years galavanting around the world and I was ready to stay put for awhile- to get on with life. I wrote in my journal:

"...I am finally content to be here- it's time for me to be at school and finish my education-- it feels good to feel that inside. I'm not being tugged elsewhere-- I'm here."

And I really meant it! My next journal entry reads:

"Well, I'm sitting here in a Greyhound bus station in Denver, waiting for the 11pm connector bus to Chicago and then on to Washington, D.C. Can you believe it? Off on another adventure..."

Ha.

It wasn't my fault! There were other forces at work. "Something's calling me to D.C." I wrote.

It all happened so fast. I was just going to school, minding my own business when I happened to glance at a flyer by the time clock at work.

"Researchers needed for a Tri-University Civil War Study at the National Archives, Washington, D.C."

"NO." I said to myself. "You're staying put." And I walked off.

But it nagged and prodded and poked. It all sounded so dreamy. Right up my dusty old document alley. "Okay," I thought, "I'll just look into it a little." I made a phone call and found out that the deadline for applicants had passed and interviews were overwith.

Phew. That's that.

But I couldn't stop thinking about it for a week. (Nudge Nudge.) And one afternoon, I found myself descending the steps to a little building on the edge of campus and knocking on the door of Professor Wimmer's office. "The positions are filled." He said. "I'm sorry." I turned and was walking out the door when he called: "Wait. Here- go ahead and fill out this application."

So I did. And I turned it in. And the same afternoon I received a phone call asking me to come in for an interview, ASAP. And the next thing I knew, they were opening up one more position-- just for me. Pulling all kinds of strings, just to fit me in.

It was up to me to find a place to live. They suggested contacting a D.C. based internship program on campus, but doubted there would be a space for me. I made the call. There happened to be one last space in their apartment housing in Alexandria. It was mine.

It was something like a miracle, the way it all worked out.

A few weeks later, I was on that cross-country bus, heading into one of the greatest experiences of my life. And in the middle of it all ...

I met a boy.

His name was Creighton.

Mission miracles

2011-11-03T22:38:00.000-04:00

There are so many mission miracles, I don't even know where- or how- to begin writing about them. I'll save those for another day. Another time...

The Damage

2011-10-30T18:56:00.003-04:00

I had to chase them around the house to get these photos.

This is post-trim. I snipped the jagged edges before church this morning. Notice Kate- determined to still wear the flower in her hair. =)

Every time I think about them off alone in a room cutting eachothers bangs, I laugh. They were so proud of themselves.

Don't let their sweet faces fool you-

2011-10-28T00:14:00.011-04:00

A couple of houligans- that's what they are. Within the last 24 hours they have managed to:

Empty an entire case of floss and string it around the house.
Dump and grind half a box of cereal into the family room carpet-- and eat the remainder.
Pull their drapes off of the wall, hardware and all.
Squirt 8 tubes of glitter paint onto the bedroom carpet and smear it in, using the excess to paint the wall and their pajamas.
CHOP THEIR BANGS OFF TO THE ROOTS.

Arrrrrrrrrrgh! This is the third time we've attempted to grow those pesky bangs out and we were finally making serious progress! Poor things could hardly see in that awkward stage and had to take matters into their own hands.

No. That's a before shot. Be very afraid.

This is a recurring theme on my blog, isn't it. Blasted kid scissors! I even walked past them right before the dastardly deed and consciously, consciously chose not to put them away. Of course they couldn't do it in one place either-- hair was strewn throughout three rooms and static-glued all over the sofa cushions.

[ Sigh...]

At least we got the vacuuming done.

My garbage can made me laugh yesterday: A wad of gnarly floss, topped with dripping tubes of paint, all smattered with dark tufts of freshly snipped hair.

It's a good thing they're so utterly adorable.

Buh-bye hair clips. We have no need for you now.

Chinese French - Another Miracle

2011-10-26T00:42:00.005-04:00

Some call it the Gift of Tongues. Heaven knows I needed it. I had two years of college French behind me and an intense language course in the Missionary Training Center, but as far as I was concerned, Quebecois hardly resembled Parisian French, and may as well have been Chinese for all I understood.

I had been in Canada nearly two months and still struggled to make out more than three words in a conversation. Sitting in church meetings gave me headaches as I strained to follow the verbal gush. Fortunately I was still in my training period and had a more seasoned companion to carry the conversations for us.

Until the phone call came.

My companion was leaving. Transferred North to Quebec City. And I was staying-- to train a new sister-- on her way from the Missionary Training Center.

Gulp.

"How on Earth?" I thought, "I'm brand new! How can I possibly train another? I can't even communicate!" But of course I didn't say that out loud. I accepted the assignment and hung up the phone in shock.

As my companion and I drove to our appointments that day, it dawned on me that not only could I not understand the language, but I had absolutely no sense of geographic direction in our area.

None.

She had been the principal driver these two months- and for many months prior- and knew the map like the back of her hand. I, on the other hand, had sat in the passenger seat, shockingly unaware of where we were day after day. Shocking only now that I was faced with losing my chauffeur in less than 24 hours!

My insides were stunned. I had the sensation of being pushed to the edge of a cliff, knowing that I would have to jump, but with no clue how to prepare, let alone save, myself-- and my poor new companion.

Out of desperation and humility for all that I lacked, I prayed that God would make up the difference. That I would be able to communicate in Quebecois French, and that I would be able to navigate the roads of our city. I knew that there was no way we could be effective without these skills, and I equally knew that there was no way I, of myself, could develop them in such a short amount of time. I felt utterly dependant on a power beyond my own to make me equal to the task.

Transfers came the next day, and my new companion arrived. Detailed directions in hand, I picked Soeur Gilmour up at the mission home in Montreal and we made our way back across the bridge to Laval. I got us that far! The next morning, we set out on our appointments for the day. I pulled out the road map for our assigned area, turned it right side up and stared. As I did, a complete visual, aerial image of the city came to my mind. I could suddenly see where all the major roadways connected in relation to our apartment, knew how to get to everywhere I had been in the past two months, and how to travel to each appointment that day- from one to the other.

But an even more amazing gift was given to me that day. As we visited with each of our appointments, and as we went from door to door,

I could suddenly- clearly- completely- understand every single word of French that was spoken.

I can still remember the smile of amazement and relief that spread through me that day, and the days that followed. I never did pick up that Quebecois twang in my own accent, but to this day, Canadian French is music to my ears.

When Miracles Began

2011-10-21T21:57:00.005-04:00

My heart was on fire.

A semester of studying the bible in the Holy Land, of walking where Jesus walked, and illuminating my own soul with the light of the Gospel had ignited a bright flame within. I felt an overwhelming desire to share everything I had discovered with those who felt darkness. "I want to be a missionary!" The thought burned inside, filling me with joy at the prospect. The course of my life had changed almost overnight, and my path was set. Nothing could hold me back.

I returned home and began the process to submit my mission application. Part of this included an extensive physical health exam. I was nervous. My feet had been aching strangely for many weeks. Bones and joints. I thought of my grandmother, who suffered from problems with her feet and legs for much of her life. I look like my grandmother. Certainly this was the beginning of wearing her feet. The doctor noticed bones shifting and referred me to a podiatrist- scribbling ominous notes on my exam form.

Podiatric prognosis wasn't good. I would need foot surgery absolutely. If not immediately, then shortly down the road. The aching would only increase and hamper me. (More ominous notes. Scribbling and jotting). My heart sank. This would surely set me back, and would likely influence the decisions made of where - and how- I could serve. How could it be?! How could I feel the way I did about serving, only to be thwarted from the very beginning?

I chose not to have the surgery yet, but to deal with the aching. And I prayed and prayed that the doctors report would not affect my mission call.

My call arrived, and I was assigned to serve a standard proselyting mission in Quebec, Canada. Oh, the relief and joy! My prayers had been answered.

I entered the Missionary Training Center only six weeks later- I don't think I could've waited a day longer. Full of enthusiasm, I dove into missionary training that first week only to end each day troubled by the ever-present aching in my feet. I was heart-sick at the prospect of being held back as a missionary by physical limitations. Inhibited in the work. I was so very discouraged.

So I prayed. I layed it all out to my Father in Heaven. I pled with him to heal my feet so that I could serve in the way my heart desired. I finished my prayer, wiped the tears from my face and climbed in to bed.

The next morning I awoke and rose to my feet with a complete absence of pain. I went through that entire day with no aching in my joints. And the next day. And the next.

And the pain never returned.

I served a full mission, completely whole and well. And to this day, nearly two decades later, I have not had any recurring issues with the bones in my feet.

This was the beginning of miracles for me.

Where Peace Ranks

2011-10-21T15:32:00.000-04:00

Miri: "Luke- If you had a wishing rock and could get anything you wanted, what would you wish for?"

Luke: (without hesitating) "First- an IPod Touch. Second- a library card. Third-- world peace."

In that order. ;)

Identity Crisis

2011-10-18T22:45:00.003-04:00

Caroline: "Mom, what is my real name?"

Me: "Your name is Caroline."

Caroline: "No, what is my real name?"

Me: "Uh..Your real name is Caroline Mary...Caroline Mary Petrey"

Caroline: "NO, MOM-

My real name is Twin!"

Happiness is....

2011-10-01T13:59:00.003-04:00

Warm raspberry muffins

Piano notes tickling the air

Fresh raw milk

The end of diapers

Evening guitar

A wrap-around porch

Pears overflowing

Bags of spring bulbs

Endless summer nights

A cozy little home

Part-time School

8 year old chefs

Soaring soccer shots

Synchronized sisters

Soft cheeks to nuzzle

Tiny hands to hold

6 year old smiles

Golden leaves shimmering
Hints of crisp air

Hot homemade spudnuts

My very good man.

The Sweet in Bittersweet

2011-08-18T13:46:00.002-04:00

Moving back to Utah is always a bittersweet experience for me. Bitter loss and sweet homecoming. As sad as I am to leave Virginia, I am equally elated to be back in a place filled with happy memories, people I love and it's own kind of breathtaking beauty.

The day after we arrived, we were driving around and one of the twins suddenly asked: "Daddy, what is that thing?!" We looked back to see her big brown eyes wide with wonder and one little finger pointing out the front window, straight ahead. At first, we weren't sure what she was talking about, and then we realized she was pointing at the mountains!

Of course she would not remember the mountains!

There they were, these giant, pointy mounds of earth, shooting up to the sky- what on earth could they be?!! Our twins are used to seeing forests and walls of trees driving down streets and highways, not mountains! I knew it was one thing to point at them and say "Those are mountains," and another thing to experience them, so the minute we were all unpacked, we took off to see the wildflowers at the tippy top of Little Cottonwood Canyon.

I stepped out of the car and was overwhelmed with the happy smell of rock and earth and trees I know so well. A lifetime of memories living, working, playing, and even getting engaged in these same mountains came flooding back to me, filling me with the joy of home.

This is the sweet in bittersweet.

And the sweetest in bittersweet? Phoning grandparents and cousins to join us.

Pit-Stop

2011-08-16T12:34:00.009-04:00

With all the tumult of the move, we made the pricey decision to skip the insanity of driving cross-country with our throng of mini people, and chose to spend a couple of days at the beach and fly out instead. Isn't that a much better plan?? We thought so.

Our good friend Geof not only agreed to drop us off at the beach and drive our van back to be shipped later, BUT he sat smashed between three of our children on the back bench and entertained them with song and dance the whole way there! Unbelievable. We'll be taking him on every road trip from now on.

We drove right through the most intense thunder storm I've ever been in and watched lightening strike ground all around us. Oddly enough, it eventually put everyone to sleep in the back, Geof. included, so Craig and I drove merrily along in the rain and blissful silence.

It's the little things.

I spent all of 30 seconds snapping photos of our little getaway. Here's what I've got:

Notice there's no Luke in these shots. He spent the entire time riding the swells on the edge of forbidden territory. He's fearless, that one.

We really had a great time. I coaxed Abby and Miri into the deeper waves for the first time ever, and there was much hoopla. When we weren't at the beach, the hotel pool fulfilled all their desires- which never ceases to amaze me.

So, next time you're in the middle of a move, take it from us- drop everything and head for the beach.

Ode To The Bon Air Women

2011-08-15T13:58:00.006-04:00

Unfortunately for you, I'm not really in ode mode, but the title seems so right.

I was thinking this morning about our drive out of town. Our last moments in Richmond. Nathan Berryman had raced over to our home and caught us just in time- for hugs all around. A fitting farewell. He and his dad were our first friends in Virginia. Salt of the Earth sort of people. I love that family.

We loaded up and drove away and my heart immediately turned to the women of the Bon Air Ward. I don't even know where to begin in describing them: solid, good, strong, real, faithful women. Somehow, leaving magnifies the ties I feel to them and my heart hurts to leave. I'm not good at goodbyes. Rather ironic considering how many times I've had to part ways with people I love. I stumble over words in my mind and end up saying something trite and superficial. So, I'll say what I've wanted to say here:

Thank You Bon Air ladies. Thank you for being the kind of women I want to emulate in so many different ways. Thank you for your friendship and for the silent support I felt from you day in and day out over the past two years. The kind of support that comes from knowing that we struggle and strive for the same goals, with the same purpose. Women At The Well will forever represent the sisterhood I've felt with so many of you. You did a wonderful thing, Darla.

I miss you all, especially now in my temporarily disconnected state- with a sea of nameless, unfamiliar faces before me. If you don't mind, I'll draw on your silent strength just a little longer- and maybe forever.

Thank heavens for blogs, and Facebook and email- a little soothing for the sadness.

Farewell fine friends.

The Bends in My Road

2011-08-14T13:38:00.003-04:00

Here's a little announcement:

We moved.

Again.

Here's stating the obvious:

We're crazy.

Let's see...I believe this makes 10 moves in 11 years.

!

Maybe we should go for one more just so we can make it 11 for 11. At this moment, that sounds pretty good. A different home with a few more closets (designed by a woman) would be fabulous...

Sometimes I say that we never meant to move this much, but the truth is, I was born with a bit of wanderlust. Or maybe I'm just not afraid of change. I do think that has subconsciously played a part in many of our decisions over the years. I never wanted my life's path to stretch straight out in front of me to the skyline. As painful as it can be, I enjoy the curves and bends. I never expected it to be quite SO curvy, and I'll admit I'm a little carsick this week, but when I think back over time, and all those bends and curves, the views and vistas from my life's window have been priceless. They are part of what has made it so rich.

So where did we go? What on earth could compel us to leave a place as steeped in beauty and history as Virginia?

An unexpected opportunity to move back home to Utah. A.S.A.P.

It was so sudden, we nearly declined. But that didn't sit right. Just as Creighton had finished crafting his email to refuse, we talked it over once more.In a matter of a few minutes, and one walk around the block, we changed our mind. Just like that. And just like that, our home sold. In three days. And the buyers wanted to move in immediately. And just like that, we found a home in Utah. And the sellers wanted to move out immediately. And just like that, there we were, only a few weeks later, packing up and moving out, and heading back across the country...to home.

And it all happened so FAST. Just like that.

And we survived yet another big dip, sharp bend, wild curve in our road.

It felt a little like this...

But yesterday, it was starting to feel more like this:

I'm feeling a little weary and a lot disoriented right now. But it will pass. For some reason, we need to be right where we are, and I'm more than a little curious to figure out why!

Big Kids in the Big Apple

2011-07-09T21:49:00.007-04:00

Before my sister and her family moved back to Utah a few weeks ago, we took them up on an offer to watch the littlest ones so we could take Luke and Abby to the Big City. We thought it would be interesting for them to see what New York City is all about. It was a fun trip filled with plenty of sidewalks, subways, ferries and the like. Once again, I wasn't the best at photo documentation, but do have some pictures of the highlights:

Top of the Rockefeller Building (since silly Trump has made the Empire State Building so cost-prohibitive. Shame on him.):

Abby at The Plaza... (my girls love "Eloise")

Luke in Lego wonderland (Rockefeller Center)

No trip to New York City would be complete without a boat ride out to the Statue of LIberty and Ellis Island. It never fails to bring me to tears thinking of the millions who passed through for freedom's sake.

Ellis Island

We made it down to Ground Zero on the hottest, muggiest afternoon of the week. Even in the sweltering heat, it was a humbling visit. There is a small museum across the street where we escaped to cool off. It housed fascinating 3-D images and models of the future structures and memorial. It will be beautiful when it's all completed.

The new tower underway:

Afterwards, we took the train to Chinatown and escaped the heat in a chilled and fabulous Chinese restaurant. Nothin' like the real thing.

I have to mention the dreamy cannoli I scarfed down in Little Italy just before dinner. Oh my...heavenly.

In my several visits to New York over the years, one thing I've never done is take a carriage ride around Central Park. We opted out of a Broadway Play and traded it for the horse and buggy instead. This topped the charts for me- from our Irish driver,

to the people on the greens,

to the lakes and bridges and towers,

it was peaceful and beautiful. An oasis of green in a desert of concrete and steel.

Our driver was a fabulous guide and pointed out so many sights and attractions we had never known about before. For the grand finale of our excursion, he let Luke and Abby feed the horse.

We capped off our Big Apple tour with a visit to the LDS temple Uptown. We were able to bring Luke and Abby into the lobby and visited with the missionary at the recommend desk, who gave us a fascinating history of the temple property and construction. Afterwards, one of the security guards offered to give us a tour of the chapel. It's huge! I'm still completely amazed at what they have done with one street corner in the city. What a blessing for the LDS members in New York City.

Once upon a time, many moons ago, Craig and I mused about spending a couple of adventurous years in Manhatten. Now, these many moons later, we both agreed that the Big Big City was no longer for us.....until we entered this temple. Somehow, that peaceful haven would make living there "a bit of alright." As my dear old dad would say. =)

A Monumental 4th

2011-07-06T11:23:00.004-04:00

Since having our twins, we generally stay as far away from crowds as possible. Laying low has been one of our preferred methods of sanity preservation. However, lately I've been struck by a recurring impulse to 'test the waters'- to see if we're ready to venture out into the wild and crazy world. On Monday, we flung ourselves into the mobs of Washington, D.C. for the 4th of July festivities.

The only way to attempt this with five young children is to have a solid plan. Which I did. Had it all worked out in my noggin- thanks to my stint living and working in the city years ago. Creighton wasn't too sure about it all and had originally planned to stay home with the twins, but my confidence won him over in the end. We packed our bags for a little over-nighter and forged ahead into the madness...

We rode the Metro in with 5 billion other parade-goers...well, okay, maybe just one billion since we were a little late (part of my plan, wink wink)...

and weaved our way through the masses

to the most perfect little parade spot in the world--

the steps of the National Archives.

How on earth there were still seats there when we arrived (late), I do not know. I attribute it all to my brilliance (had my fingers crossed) Fabulous plan, if I do say so (would've been really bad if I'd been wrong.) It was a little hairy figuring out the path designated by security guards- and getting up there with a double stroller and throng of sweaty kids in tow, but we did it! Hurrah!

After the parade, we spent the afternoon at Arlington Cemetery

and tried to help Luke and Abby gain a sense of freedom and sacrifice.

It's a peaceful, sacred place.

Thank heavens the skies were overcast most of the day. It was very warm, but would have been unbearable with a blazing sun.

Still, we had our arsenal of relievers- plenty of water, wetwipes, spray bottles..

and of course that all-american 4th of July treat- salt water taffy. I think that alone would have pulled our kids through the day. They were deliriously happy with a perpetual chunk of goo in their mouths.

We headed back to our hotel in the late afternoon for a little snooze (HA) and later rode the train back to Arlington Cemetery. We had the most perfect spot in all the world to view the fireworks over the Lincoln Monument. They were impressive and magical, and for me- awe inspiring. Even a few moments in such a setting is priceless.

We caught the first train out of town, ahead of the crowds on the mall. The ride was fun for everyone- packed to the gills with a throng of happy patriots bedecked in red white and blue.

I do believe our 4th of July adventure in the Nation's Capital was a success- and at the very least, memorable.

Which was entirely my motive.

My Very Own B&B

2011-07-03T16:12:00.004-04:00

I've decided that just about every American woman, at a given moment in her life, has entertained the notion of restoring some beautiful old country home and running a little Bed and Breakfast out of it-- just for fun. I once toyed with this idea myself-- for about five seconds-- before I relegated it to the "silly romantic wish" file- knowing that the practical logistics would quickly send the romanticsm up in a puff of smoke. What do you know, though- I've been running a regular B&B out of my very own home for the past 3 months! Who says silly wishes don't come true?

We've had family and friends passing through back to back, week after week since early spring. It's been a happy blur of fresh towels and sheets, welcome signs, blueberry muffins and smoothies, field trips around town and hearty chats around the table. To Grandma Joyce, the Baros family, Joel and Colleen, Tim and Libby, the Tolmans, Joan and John, Uncle Nick and Megan and Brian- we've so enjoyed every visit with each one of you.

I'm quite the lazy photographer, especially when I'm playing "hostess." The only pictures I have are of two of our favorite people in the world, the Clarks- and that's only because Colleen didn't have her camera and wanted pictures. Let's embarass them, shall we?

Here's the extraordinarily happy couple:

Beautiful Colleen, my kindred friend:

Playing at the lake:

A terrible shot of the two of us. :

And so on.
We've had a lovely time. With everyone!

Just a little FYI, though- If you want to book time at the Petrey B&B, you'd better hurry!

The Season's Best: The Gardens at Monticello

2011-05-20T01:21:00.000-04:00

Okay- just one more and I'll be done with my travel-blog.
I just can't NOT write about Monticello in the spring!

We'd visited twice before- in the dead heat of summer and the rainy chill of winter. This time, we dropped in just in time to see the gardens, orchards and vineyards in all of their glory.

I'm such a novice at gardening that the sight of these perfectly plowed and bursting beds and terraces took my breath away and left my heart fluttering. Can you imagine conceiving of and producing something so magnificent?!. Thomas Jefferson was brilliant. A little background on the design and maintenance of his gardens amazed me.

A few more pictures of Jeffersonian genius:

And we mustn't forget an observatory...to watch the sun rise and set over our masterpiece...

Did I mention the exotic tulip gardens?...

THOMAS JEFFERSON

President of the United States

Author of the Declaration of Independence
and
Statute For Religious Freedom

Father of the University of Virginia

And

Gardener.

At heart.

Inspiring.

The Season's Best: Historic Jamestowne

2011-05-18T21:30:00.000-04:00

The Jamestown Settlement Museum is a great place to take the family, but I'd long been wanting to visit Historic Jamestown, the actual site of that ill-fated colony.

After our visit at the living history center, we drove the two or three miles through swampland to the National Park Service site.

For me, it was absolutely fascinating:

These graves mark the Starving Time, the desperate winter of 1609-1610. When a load of new colonists landed in mid-August 1609, the situation was dire. They brought few provisions: their supply ships had run aground in Bermuda. Indians were besieging Jamestown. The colony's leader, Captain John Smith, left for England in October for treatment of a gunpowder burn. Food supplies were exhausted. The settlers feared to leave the fort to fish or hunt. By the spring, more than half the colony had perished from disease and famine. (exerpt from the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History)

In the 1950s, archaeologists located an early unmarked cemetery. It lay under the ruins of a statehouse that was built at Jamestown in the 1660s. Now called the Statehouse Complex Burial Ground, it holds victims of the Starving Time, as well as later graves up to the 1630s. (Image courtesy of: APVA Preservation Virginia/Historic Jamestowne)

I know. quite the yawner for a blog post, BUT- definitely one of the season's best for me.

Jamestown Settlement & Powhatan Village

2011-05-15T20:44:00.000-04:00

We made our second visit to the Jamestown Settlement while my sisters were in town in April. Our first visit was the day after Christmas, which also happened to be the day after a major snow and ice storm. Because we're just that crazy. This visit was much much nicer, and far more fun! Here's a little peek of our day:

Abby, Olivia, Luke, Miriam, Caroline, Kaitlyn, Heather, Jessica and Emily paddling away.

The Season's Best - Mt. Vernon

2011-05-10T13:52:00.000-04:00

Anyone who lives in the South will tell you that the best time to do summer...is in the spring. Summer is too darn HOT and WET! We figured that out pretty quickly and made sure we did it right this year. The highlight was a week in April spent with both of my sisters and their families. The next few posts are my picks for the best of the season.

Bike Ride to Mount Vernon

I did this ride years ago with friends and always wanted to do it again. It was so great to be able to repeat it with family- all fifteen children and six adults of us! We rented bikes in Old Town Alexandria...

and rode 20 beautiful miles round trip to Mount Vernon, home of George Washington.

Abby took the prize for Trooper of the Day. This is not the easiest ride, but she held her own without a single whimper, the entire 20 miles!

Creighton towed the twins in a trailer...

and I had Miri with me on a sort of tandem...

Wow. Huff and puff. I started feeling reaaaaallly old, and had to keep reminding myself I was towing 70 extra pounds up all those hills! So so worth it, though.

Mt. Vernon.

View from the back-- Virginia in all it's pastoral glory

View from the front-- over the Potomac River.

Taking it all in on the porch...

Somehow, I missed a picture of the Tolmans, but here are the rest:

The Baros Family

and us!

Definitely one of the season's best.

My Old Kentucky Home

2011-05-01T23:26:00.007-04:00

If there is one drawback to being a professional genealogist, it's that there's never enough time to do my own genealogy. Like the plumber with leaky faucets, or the contractor whose own home is perpetually mid-project, my ancestry has had to wait in the wings over the years while I happily help others along.

However...

Last month, my sister and I miraculously escaped for a week to hunt for some elusive ancestors of our own in Kentucky.

What fun!

I didn't bring my camera along- I knew I'd be too pre-occupied-- so I snatched a few photos from the web to give you an idea of Kentucky's breathtaking beauty:

Would someone please bury me in this blessed country?

No wonder all of my early American ancestors converged there.

After doing some drive-bys of our great grandmother's homes in Cincinnati, we spent most of our time buried in parchment and microfilm at the Kentucky State Archives in Frankfort and at the Jessamine County Courthouse. Of course we hung out at the cemetery, too, and traipsed around Nicholasville, the city and the countryside where several of our triple greats lived.

Main Street, Nicholasville

Jessamine County Courthouse

I think the most memorable experience of that week was discovering and visiting the family burial ground of some of our earliest ancestors on their original plantation. The home still stands, and though sadly deteriorated, the burial ground, located on a hilltop in a grove of trees, was such a peaceful, reverent spot.

Fortunately, someone documented the tombstones before they were as damaged and rotten as they are today.

It was such a happy little miracle that we even found this burial site. After one of the days at the Archives, we decided to make the drive to Nicholasville and visit the small public library there to see if we could find any local history files. Sure enough, in one thin, spiral bound, unpublished notebook on a related family, I noticed a small reference to the burial site of our ancestor. The name of the road and farm were given. As soon as I got back to the hotel, I googled this information and found the above pictures and specific directions to what was the original plantation of our ancestor (which I learned through examining deeds at the courthouse earlier that day). I would have never found this burial ground otherwise, as the plantation became known by another name after his death.

We prayed our hearts out to be guided on this trip. We are sure that those ancestors we found led us to where they were resting and to the land and home they knew and loved.

We made a couple of donkey friends while we were visiting the plantation. When we first got there and were climbing the hill, two donkeys were chasing a car and braying a few hundred feet from us. A little while later, we noticed them climbing the hill towards us, and we were a little apprehensive. But when they reached us, it was almost as if they could sense the same reverence we felt. They were gentle and sweet, and more than happy to join us on camera. I did have my video camera to document it:

Don't worry. I gave our forlorn friends some love after I put the camera down.

Easter at the Farmhouse

2011-04-28T22:53:00.009-04:00

We spent a whirlwind of a week with family over Spring Break. My sister Melinda and her family flew out from Utah to take in the East Coast-- and they nearly did it all! I may or may not get around to blogging about the week, but here's a glimpse of Easter. Spent at the farmhouse in Pennsylvania.

These aren't the best shots of this 150 year old beauty, but they'll have to do. My sister Carolyn (whose family currently lives in the house while on a one year military assignment) recently researched and wrote a fabulous history of the home in an effort to save it from pending demolition. News has spread and she made the front page of the local newspaper in Carlisle!

You can read the history here, and see a video tour of the house here.

Some pics of our Easter afternoon....

..

Just in case you didn't catch that glowing "Y"...

Miri trying her very best not to peak while the eggs were hidden!

At Last!

Farewell dear cousins...

Sweet Virginia

2011-04-17T15:08:00.014-04:00

It's that time of year again.

I grabbed the camera for our walk the other day and snapped a few shots of bliss:

Had enough?

Too bad.

If heaven doesn't look a little something like this--

then I don't know what.

Happy Spring!

Li'l Abner's Big Day

2011-03-26T16:45:00.008-04:00

Little Miss Abigail turned 8 this month!

Sandwiched in between two trips, we got to celebrate her birthday week with Grandma and Grandpa Hammond. Then, my sister and her family came down from PA for her baptism (after throwing a party for Abby up there while we were in Mexico!) Of course spending time with cousins tops the charts for my kids, so they've really had a banner month.

We've been able to spend most holidays this year with Carolyn's family, who are in Pennsylvania for only a year while Derek attends the Army War College. I don't have many pictures of us all together-- because, well, we're busy doing things together! I did manage to snap just one pic of some of them this time- lounging with Grandpa for a few minutes after the baptism:

Abby has been waiting anxiously to be baptized. It was a beautiful day in every way, and so, so good to have family to share it with. We all went out to a great new frozen yogurt place in Carytown afterwards- Abby's choice. Grandma and Grandma brought a new hymnal, and did all the leg work to bring scriptures from Mom and Dad. She's elated to have her very own set just like Luke.

When Abby was just tiny, Creighton started calling her Li'l Abner, after the famous comic strip character. It stuck. She has other nicknames too: Abby-Lou, Ab, Miss Abigail. I decided to finally look up the history of Li'l Abner since I was never familiar with the comic strip. I was interested to read this description of his character:

"This simple-minded citizen of humble Dogpatch was a paragon of virtue in a dark and cynical world."

I like that. Because so is our Li'l Abby in her own sweet and simple way. She's reached the age where I know that if I blink, she's going to be all grown up and gone, so I've got my eyes wide open. I want to freeze this time of life- to capture her childlike innocence and sweetness and never let it go. And at the same time, I'm excited for the years to come- for discovering even more of who she is, and who she will become.

Happy Birthday Miss Abigail!

Sun, Sea and Sand

2011-03-20T15:03:00.012-04:00

Creighton and I are pretty laid back when it comes to vacations. We occasionally talk about trips to exotic places, but we've put them off since having children- content with more local getaways. But when Creighton was awarded a trip to Cancun recently, of course we weren't going to pass it up! We drove up to Pennsylvania to drop the kids off with my sister and flew out from there. I wasn't quite prepared for the all-expenses paid, all-inclusive resort experience.

Wow!

We stayed at the shmanciest resort I've ever been to (definitely not one we would've selected on our own...$$$), and from the moment we arrived, we were pampered. No pictures of the pampering, but here's the resort:

Of course, everything was free- meaning all the food and drinks (restaurants, room service, bars- and a few extra pounds). So the first thing we did after a little room service of fajitas was sip a virgin pina colada and strawberry daiquiri by the pool... while the rest of the guests were getting, um.. liquored.

Drunken water aerobics, anyone??

Creighton pretended to be me for a few minutes- on the balcony with a book:

For some reason, our room made me feel like I was in India. Notice the unkempt bed. I had to consciously force myself not to make it everyday- mostly because I wanted the little chocolates on the pillows from the maid!

I've been to Tijuana once, but never knew if I'd make it to the 'real' Mexico, so now that I was there, I wasn't about to pass up an excursion to the Mayan ruins at Tulum. Creighton had to be enticed, but I think he was just as fascinated once we got there:

And oh the water! It really is those amazing shades of turquoise:

Jungle Craig on the walk down from the ruins:

And a bunch of these little friends:

Uh, some sort of mating ritual??

Honestly, in the middle of all the preparation, travel, recovery and general upheaval involved for this trip (arranging for our children, too), I had to question if it was really all worth it. But already, when I think back on being with my best friend in moments like this:

And this:

I have to say that I really would do it all again.

Someday.

Quote of the Day #2

2011-02-28T19:53:00.006-05:00

Luke:

"Mom, what do I type in Google If I want to find out about all the math the world hasn't discovered yet?"

?!

Quote of the Day

2011-02-23T20:21:00.004-05:00

Miri:

"Mom, why do they put people in jail if all they did is kill somebody?"

!!!

You can imagine the discussion that followed...

When Grandpa Petrey Rings Twice

2011-02-18T19:29:00.008-05:00

Creighton's dad passed away two years ago. One night last year, we were all sitting around the dinner table talking about him when the doorbell rang-- half-way. Someone got up to answer it, but no one was there. I, somewhat jokingly, said: "It's Grandpa Petrey coming to say 'Hello!'" "He heard us talking about him!" All eyes grew as big and wide as my smile. I used it as an opportunity to teach about death and the spirit world, and we went on with our evening.

A few weeks later, we were once again sitting at the dinner table and Grandpa Petrey came up in conversation. Guess what happened: the doorbell rang-- half-way. That's when I knew I was right. We all answered in unison: "Hi, Grandpa Petrey!" And ever since then, we know that when the doorbell rings half way, it's Grandpa coming to visit us. It only ever happens during dinner, when we're all together. And it's never the full Ding-Dong, just the DING.

And no one is ever at the door.

Tonight the doorbell rang during dinner. DING! Miri was across the room and immediately shouted: "HI, GRANDPA PETREY!"

And we all smiled and waved.

=)

A Virtuous Woman- Reconstructed

2011-02-11T13:28:00.013-05:00

After far too much thought and some good discussion with friends, I think I've come up with my definition of a virtuous woman. Ironically, I only just now googled it and found all kinds of definitions, but true to myself, I've had to go about it on my own in order to internalize it. . I may be coming full circle in my thoughts- returning to what I've always known, but there's something about taking apart and exploring the inner workings of an idea- and then putting it back together again. Much like my dissection of Santa Claus, I understand better why I do what I do, or believe what I believe. It's part of my ongoing effort to live deliberately.

Here's my reconstructed definition. [I have edited the other posts to better reflect what I am trying to express.]:

A virtuous woman is one who is devoted to the nourishment, growth and education of others. She is a woman of vision and purpose who seeks the will of God for her and sees with her heart to meet the needs of the present moment.

If you're as interested as I am in what it means to be a virtuous woman, I enjoyed reading this expanded definition, based on a study of Proverbs, here. This is one man's domestic interpretation and literal analysis of Proverbs. Obviously, it's important to see the principles behind the examples in order to apply it to our own lives.

When I imagine a virtuous woman personified, I think of Marmee (Little Women) and Little Amy Dorrit. Of Anne Elliot (Persuasion) and Molly Gibson (Wives and Daughters.) Of Ruth and of Mary. And of all the women in my life who have mothered me.

And I think of this woman, described in C.S. Lewis' The Great Divorce:

Motherhood
of a different kind

Only partly do I remember the unbearable beauty of her face. 'Is it?... Is it?' I whispered to my guide.

'Not at all,' said he. 'It's someone ye'll never have heard of. Her name on earth was Sarah Smith and she lived at Golden Green.'

'She seems to be... well, a person of particular importance?'

'Aye. She is one of the great ones. Ye have heard that fame in [heaven] and fame on Earth are two quite different things.' ...

'And who are all these young men and women on each side?'

'They are her sons and daughters.'

'She must have had a very large family, Sir.'

'Every young man or boy that met her became her son - even if it was only the boy that brought the meat to her back door. Every girl that met her was her daughter.'

'Isn't that a bit hard on their own parents?'

'No. There are those that steal other people's children. But her motherhood was of a different kind. Those on whom it fell went back to their natural parents loving them more. Few men looked on her without becoming, in a certain fashion, her lovers. But it was the kind of love that made them not less true, but truer, to their own wives... It is like when you throw a stone into a pool and the concentric waves spread out further and further. Who knows where it will end? ... But already there is joy enough in the little finger of a great saint such as yonder lady to waken all the dead things of the universe into life.'

This, to me, is a Virtuous Woman.

The Virtue of a Mother

2011-02-06T21:21:00.018-05:00

Earlier this year, a friend of mine wrote a post here about virtue that I found intriguing. She discussed virtue in the way it was defined by Plato and Aristotle:

They speak of virtue as that which makes a thing to be what it is, and to do its work well. They say virtue is a habit or quality that allows the bearer to succeed at his, her, or its purpose. So, for example, the virtue of a knife is sharpness and among the virtues of a racehorse is speed.

I've been trying to help the kids understand virtue in this sense - that they have qualities that will help them succeed at their purpose.

This is such a beautiful idea, that I couldn't help but explore it further.

If every thing and every ONE has inherent virtues which allow them to succeed in the purpose of their creation, then

What is the virtue of a woman?

And more specifically,

What is the virtue of a mother?

It helps to understand the purpose of a mother.

Modern dictionaries define mothers almost entirely in physical terms of giving birth or as a status of authority or control, with slight mention of "maternal affection" and "protective care."

But there is more.

The Proclamation on the Family adds the following to a mother's purpose:

Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children

The 1828 edition of Webster's American Dictionary of the English Language defines "nurture," as follows:

1. That which nourishes; food; diet.

2. That which promotes growth; education; instruction. Ephesians 6.

Therefore, a mother's primary purpose is to nourish physically and to promote growth, education and instruction of her children. And the question follows: what are the qualities of a mother which allow her to succeed in her purpose? What are virtues of a mother?

With these thoughts on my mind over many months, I began to notice that certain virtues written about in scripture have been assigned feminine gender.

But let PATIENCE have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing. [James 1:4]

Happy is the man that findeth WISDOM, and the man that getteth understanding…She is more precious than rubies: and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her. [Proverbs 3:13-15]

And CHARITY suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. [Moroni 7:45]

Patience. Wisdom. Charity.

These are all feminine virtues. I don't believe its coincidence. These are precisely the virtues that women and mothers need in order to succeed in their purpose. Heaven knows these are the very qualities I have longed for as a mother. So often praying for PATIENCE, and WISDOM, and CHARITY in all of its forms from one moment to the next. These are our virtues. The inherent virtues of a woman and a mother, which make her who she is intended to be. They are the qualities of a nurturer.

I am beginning to understand that patience, wisdom and charity in their truest forms are a part of our intrinsic make-up; an intentional part of our design to help us succeed in our purpose as mothers. In a sense, we need only to awaken them in order to become who we are really designed to be.

“God planted within women something divine.”That something is the gift and the gifts of motherhood. Elder Matthew Cowley taught that “men have to have something given to them [in mortality] to make them saviors of men, but not mothers, not women. [They] are born with an inherent right, an inherent authority, to be the saviors of human souls … and the regenerating force in the lives of God’s children.”

President Gordon B. Hinckley

In The Four Loves, C.S. Lewis describes these inherent virtues as the "garden of our nature" that God has planted within us. He says:

[God] set our will to dress them...To liberate that splendour, to let it become fully what it is trying to be.

But HOW? Isn't this the grand question? How do I "liberate" those virtues planted in me which are so essential to truly fulfilling my role as a mother, as a woman, as a nurturer? It recently struck me that the answer lies in choosing to being virtuous.

Usually when I think of the word "virtuous," I think of it in terms of purity and chastity or morality, but I've never thought of it in conjunction with the definition of virtue given by ancient philosophers. In that sense, to be virtuous would mean to perform according to one's design or purpose in a manner that allows ones virtues to succeed in fulfilling its purpose.

The 1828 edition of Webster's American Dictionary defines virtuous as:

4. Efficacious by inherent qualities; as virtuous herbs; virtuous drugs.

5. Having great or powerful properties; as virtuous steel; a virtuous staff; a virtuous ring.

But those inherent qualities and properties cannot be powerful unless the thing is used according to its design. My friend wrote:

If I don't teach my children to see that things have qualities that help them serve their purpose in their best way, they will start to feel entitled to using their environment in any way that suits them, without regard to "petty" rules and laws.

In the same way, if we as women and mothers don't see that we have inherent qualities, or virtues that help us serve our purpose, we might also start to feel entitled to use ourselves, our time, our talents, our minds and hearts in any way that suits us, without regard to the designs of our nature that God planted within us.

For instance: The virtue of a knife is its sharpness. I can use a knife as a garden shovel, but that is not what it was designed for. The knife would not be virtuous. It would not have great and powerful properties because it is not being used in the way it was intended in order to bring out its virtues.

Similarly, the virtues of a mother, or nurturer are patience and wisdom and love. But if I, as a mother, choose to devote my time or talents or even my thoughts to become something other than I was intended to be, I will likely not fully develop those virtues I need to perform "efficaciously" in my role as a mother. I may never know the the power of those virtues already within me, which come from being virtuous.

The world relentlessly preaches that much of a mother's fulfillment comes from outside of motherhood- from pursuing her own interests and goals and passions independent of her family. I have found that these good things allow me to develop skills or qualities in other areas, and reach a level of mental satisfaction and personal reward, but they don't usually increase my patience or wisdom or love at home. It is in mothering that a woman's finest virtues are revealed and her greatest fulfillment is found.

Once we take our eyes away from ourselves, from our interests, from our own rights, privileges, ambitions—then [our eyes] will become clear to see Jesus around us.
[Mother Teresa]

Being virtuous in this sense implies a belief in God and His will for us. It is trusting that as we seek first to nurture others, we will, in turn, be nurtured by Him. In fact, in my limited experience, it seems that this brand of selflessness is its own reward. We are left truly filled- wanting nothing for ourselves and needing no justification or validation in the end. How would that be! C.S. Lewis takes this idea to the utmost in the following excerpt:

There are three kinds of people in the world. The first class is of those who live simply for their own sake and pleasure, regarding Man and Nature as so much raw material to be cut up into whatever shape may serve them. In the second class are those who acknowledge some other claim upon them- the will of God, the categorical imperative, or the good of society – and honestly try to pursue their own interests no further than this claim will allow. They try to surrender to the higher claim as much as it demands, like men paying a tax, but hope, like other taxpayers, that what is left over will be enough for them to live on… But the third class is of those who can say with St. Paul that for them ‘to live is Christ’. These people have got rid of the tiresome business of adjusting the rival claims of Self and God by the simple expedient of rejecting the claims of the Self altogether. The old egoistic will has been turned round, reconditioned, and made into a new thing. The will of Christ no longer limits theirs; it is theirs. All their time, in belonging to Him, belongs also to them, for they are His… [C.S. Lewis, Three kinds of Men]

I imagine the third class of people would easily fall under the category of "virtuous." I am not there yet by any means....I'm sure I'll be working on this until the end of my days. But I love the idea of liberating the splendour of the virtues within me to become fully what [nature] is trying to be- and finding the joy and fulfillment that already surrounds me. No longer do patience, wisdom and charity feel so unattainable. They come- layer upon layer as I seek to be truly virtuous in the present moment with my time, my talents, my energy, and even my thoughts.

In light of my new understanding of virtue, the following verse takes on even greater significance:

Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price [is] far above rubies. Proverbs 31:10

Yes, indeed.

In The Bleak Midwinter

2011-02-01T17:26:00.005-05:00

The holidays are long over, but it sure is a bleak midwinter here. This is one of my favorite versions of one of my favorite Christmas songs.

Birthday Girls - Photo Album

2011-01-30T12:56:00.014-05:00

As I watch Kate and Caroline together, I often try to imagine what it would be like to spend every minute of your life with your very best friend. We rarely separate them, but when it happens, they are clearly distressed, and even I feel the urgency to bring them back together again. They slept side by side for the first six months of their life- until they could roll around. But as soon as they could climb in and out of their cribs, they would make their way back to each other during the night. They still do it often. We find them blissfully sprawled all over each other.

Caroline continues to go about life with a twinkle in her eye and mischief in her smile. She has a very strong will that makes us choose carefully when to cross her, but at the same time, she is playful and gleeful and quite a little lady. She wears a princess dress 24/7 these days, and loves to skip and frolick her way through life.

Kate is still all girl in the drama department, but has transformed into a peaceful, easy-going and even sweetly silly little soul. She still loves to imitate everything I do. I often find her pulling out dirty underwear from hampers and folding them into perfect little piles. She clearly enjoys being able to talk now and makes a great effort to learn to express herself. She's still very cuddly, and despite her growing independence, comes to me often to be held or rocked like a baby until her love tank is full again.

While they are definitely different personalities, so much about them is the same and it comes out in their sweet conversations with each other. They have a vocabulary all their own and speak with the exact same intonations and inflections. I love to listen to them chatter in a distant room, or overhear the combined laughter echo from their bedroom at night. I try to imagine how their friendship will develop over the years, and I am envious, in a happy way, of the gift they have in each other.

Here are a few pictures taken this past year that reflect a little bit of that unique relationship that perhaps only twins can ever know:

Birthday Girls and Playdough Molds

2011-01-28T16:25:00.025-05:00

Kate and Caroline turned 3 this week!

A monumental occasion, but we celebrated very simply:

with playdough!

And I got to thinking...

I like to talk about how these girls turned my world upside down.

But the truth is

They turned it right side up.

They have rolled me

And stretched me

And shaped me

Bit by bit.

And piece by piece.

Into a different creature

Than I was before.

Thank heavens for my little friends.

Happy Birthday girls!

I love every sweet and spunky bit of you both!

Josefa, Where Are You?

2011-01-22T22:19:00.006-05:00

Once upon a time, I had a cleaning lady.

For 4 very short, glorious months. A birthday present from Creighton. Why on earth I didn't hire a cleaning lady the minute I was pregnant with twins, I cannot tell you. Actually, I can: I figured surely I could take care of things. And surely I could put that money to better use. Surely we can't afford a MAID!

Silly Silly Silly Me.

I had a couple of good friends with cleaning ladies. They're the ones who finally convinced me I wouldn't be less of a person, or go broke if we hired one.

Her name was Josefa.

Oh, Josefa, how I miss you. This woman waltzed in my home the very first day and did not leave until every nook and cranny was spotless and smelled like a summer breeze.

Oh Josefa....

I wanted to weep and shout for joy and hug her and fall to my knees in gratitude- this mother with no hands that I was. When we hired her, we specified that we only wanted floors and bathrooms cleaned- which is what I could never get to. But she refused to do only part of the job, saying something about her work ethic. I was frustrated at first, and considered telling her we just couldn't afford her if she wasn't willing to do only what we asked. But I didn't.

Oh, I'm so glad I didn't.

I was usually there while she cleaned. There with my arms balancing babies and my eyes trailing toddlers. We would talk while she worked- about the injustices in her life. About the prejudice towards her people. About her family's struggle to survive. All in her broken English. I wanted to suggest she learn "the language," and get some training... or go to college...or a number of other things that would have only offended. So I didn't. Instead, I listened. And sympathized. And glimpsed the world through her eyes.

And all the while I was inexpressibly, overwhelmingly

grateful.

I didn't realize how much my dirty home was weighing me down mentally. Frustrating me endlessly, because I simply couldn't get to it. Suddenly, all of that weight and frustration was swept, mopped and scrubbed away by my dear friend, Josefa.

Josefa brought me relief. She restored my perspective, freed my mind, and soothed my stretched-out soul.

Just like that.

After 4 months, I received a message one day from Josefa telling me she could no longer continue cleaning homes. She would not be back. I was sad. The timing was good. Our home had just sold, and we were on our way out.

But there are days still when I miss Josefa. Days when the dust balls creep in and the smears smudge all, and all the toilets call... How I would love for her to waltz in and whisk, wipe and whoosh it it all away- and all of my frustrations too.

And how I would love to know that some of her sorrows have been swept away in kind.

Knowing- and loving- Josefa was worth every penny we didn't think we had to spare--

on a cleaning lady.

So Far So Good

2011-01-18T20:47:00.008-05:00

After two full weeks of homeschool with Luke, here is my report:

Glorious.

Is that too big a word? Really there doesn't seem to be one to describe how I feel. So I'll choose that one for now. What would you say if you were feeling little swells of:

peace
purpose
contentment
order
rhythm
fulfillment
satisfaction
hope

all in the same day, or even all in the same moment?

I don't mean to exaggerate. My days continue to be filled with all the usual motherly duties and challenges, but I'm used to those. I'm used to the regular ups and downs and ins and outs of a day. I suppose I must be in the honeymoon stage of homeschooling, because I'm reveling in a new dimension of purpose. There's a certain feeling of synergism embarking on this path that I hope to write about soon.

And Luke? Luke seems to be gobbling up opportunity. We have a general structure to our day, including time for working together, scripture study, reading, helping with meals and mom-school. Luke gets to fill in the blank spots with anything he wants to pursue. Here is a list of some of the things he has done with little or no prompting from me. If anything, its interesting to see what he has chosen to do with his time:

Conducted a dramatic clean-out and reorganization of his room
Memorized the first two paragraphs of The Living Christ (with me), including copywork (for his handwriting.)
Learned how to type! No more plucking.
Researched lizards and all things required to own and care for one. Trip to petsmart to calculate costs. Comparison shopped.
Learned how to list items on Ebay and Craigslist from his room purge for said lizard. (good luck!)
Came up with a long-term plan for extra chores in order to earn money for same lizard- and went to work.
Learned how to take pictures, transfer them to computer, edit, crop and upload.
Researched vultures for hours, then decided to learn how to create an Excel spreadsheet in order to organize the facts on vultures so he could turn it in as a project for Cub Scouts.
Acquainted himself with PowerPoint, created a slide-show complete with charts, graphs and photos and then taught his mother how to do the same.
Explored Microsoft Word, then typed out the paragraphs he has memorized so far from The Living Christ using various Word features.
Created a typewritten glossary for his new language, developed over the past few months.
Learned how to make yogurt cheese, and did so!
Learned how to make bar chocolate, and did so!
Learned how to dice and chop carrots and potatoes (a step up from slicing) using the BIG knife.
Determined the weekly dinner menu and wrote a grocery list for same.
Started and completed his Pinewood Derby car (with Dad).
Took apart an old birdhouse and made a plaque to mount his coin collection on.
Used the remaining wood to make a propeller attached to string, then proceeded to swing it around in varying directions and speeds, guessing which machines made the accompanying sounds- and why. (!!)
Read 250 pages of his novel
Learned all kinds of interesting things with Mom from This Week in History. (Would you believe I've never known what Florence Nightingale did?) Spent a good chunk of time learning about Edward Lear- his life, his limericks, his art. Realized we had a book with some of his limericks in it and pulled it out to read.
And more.

I figure that's a pretty good start. We have a math plan in the works. Fortunately Luke already loves math. I'm counting on him to lead the way with the others in the future while I get over my own math inhibitions. I'm certain there will come a day when he chooses to read over other things, but for now, we're both enjoying exploring all of the possibilities.

All of this was helped by initially sitting down with Luke and creating a plan for our days, both short and long term. We outlined the daily and weekly schedule together and mounted it to the wall (it's a dry-erase poster, so we can change it as needed). Then we made lists of things Luke is interested in learning about that he can refer to. We also listed projects that I plan to have him do with me, such as:

Memorizations
Service Projects
Emergency Preparedness
Food Storage
Planning the Garden
Natural Health Remedies
Compiling Photo Albums
Yardwork
Home Projects
and so on...

And so forth.

It just feels good. And when Miri came home today with a fistful of candy (for good behavior!), announced that people were throwing up at school, and asked me if she could make a poster on Justin Bieber (who??? I had to google him to figure out who he is and how to spell it), and when Abby then handed me a form requesting money for a special program on anti-bullying, I had to laugh in astonishment. Really?? I could actually feel my mind descending from another place.

Fortunately I know that their schooling is more than this, but at that moment, the contrast was sharp.

We're off to a good start, Luke and I.

11 Step Program...For Having Kids

2011-01-17T22:58:00.003-05:00

I just read this and laughed so hard I couldn't breathe. (Apparently I'm starving for some humor!)

Thought I'd share:

11 Step Program for Those Thinking of Having Kids
by Amy Lawrence

Lesson 1

1. Go to the grocery store.
2. Arrange to have your salary paid directly to their head office.
3. Go home.
4. Pick up the paper.
5. Read it for the last time.

Lesson 2

Before you finally go ahead and have children, find a couple who already are parents and berate them about their…
1. Methods of discipline.
2. Lack of patience.
3. Appallingly low tolerance levels.
4. Allowing their children to run wild.
5. Suggest ways in which they might improve their child’s breastfeeding, sleep habits, toilet training, table manners, and overall behavior.
Enjoy it because it will be the last time in your life you will have all the answers.

Lesson 3

A really good way to discover how the nights might feel…
1. Get home from work and immediately begin walking around the living room from 5PM to 10PM carrying a wet bag weighing approximately 8-12 pounds, with a radio turned to static (or some other obnoxious sound) playing loudly. (Eat cold food with one hand for dinner)
2. At 10PM, put the bag gently down, set the alarm for midnight, and go to sleep.
3. Get up at 12 and walk around the living room again, with the bag, until 1AM.
4. Set the alarm for 3AM.
5. As you can’t get back to sleep, get up at 2AM and make a drink and watch an infomercial.
6. Go to bed at 2:45AM.
7. Get up at 3AM when the alarm goes off.
8. Sing songs quietly in the dark until 4AM.
9. Get up. Make breakfast. Get ready for work and go to work (work hard and be productive)

Repeat steps 1-9 each night. Keep this up for 3-5 years. Look cheerful and together.

Lesson 4

Can you stand the mess children make? In order to find out…
1. Smear peanut butter onto the sofa and jam onto the curtains.
2. Hide a piece of raw chicken behind the stereo and leave it there all summer.
3. Stick your fingers in the flower bed.
4. Then rub them on the clean walls.
5. Take your favorite book, photo album, etc. Wreck it.
6. Spill milk on your new pillows. Cover the stains with crayons. How does that look?

Lesson 5

Dressing small children is not as easy as it seems.
1. Buy an octopus and a small bag made out of loose mesh.
2. Attempt to put the octopus into the bag so that none of the arms hang out.

Time allowed for this…all morning.

Lesson 6

Forget the BMW and buy a mini-van. And don’t think that you can leave it out in the driveway spotless and shining. Family cars don’t look like that.
1. Buy a chocolate ice cream cone and put it in the glove compartment.
Leave it there.
2. Get a dime. Stick it in the CD player.
3. Take a family size package of chocolate cookies. Mash them into the back seat. Sprinkle cheerios all over the floor, then smash them with your foot.
4. Run a garden rake along both sides of the car.

Lesson 7

1. Go to the local grocery store.

2. Take with you the closest thing you can find to a pre-school child. (A full-grown goat is an excellent choice). If you intend to have more than one child, then definitely take more than one goat.

3. Buy your week’s groceries without letting the goats out of your sight.

4. Pay for everything the goat eats or destroys.

Until you can easily accomplish this, do not even contemplate having children.

Lesson 8

1. Hollow out a melon.
2. Make a small hole in the side.
3. Suspend it from the ceiling and swing it from side to side.
4. Now get a bowl of soggy Cheerios and attempt to spoon them into the swaying melon by pretending to be an airplane.
5. Continue until half the Cheerios are gone.
6. Tip half into your lap. The other half, just throw up in the air.

You are now ready to feed a nine- month-old baby.

Lesson 9

1. Learn the names of every character from Sesame Street, Barney, Disney, the Teletubbies, and Pokemon.

2. Watch nothing else on TV but PBS, the Disney channel or Noggin for at least five years. (I know, you’re thinking What’s ‘Noggin’?) Exactly the point.

Lesson 10

1. Make a recording of Fran Drescher saying ‘mommy’ repeatedly. (Important: no more than a four second delay between each ‘mommy’; occasional crescendo to the level of a supersonic jet is required).

2. Play this tape in your car everywhere you go for the next four years.

You are now ready to take a long trip with a toddler.

Lesson 11

1. Start talking to an adult of your choice.

2. Have someone else continually tug on your skirt hem, shirt- sleeve, or elbow while playing the ‘mommy’ tape made from Lesson 10 above.

You are now ready to have a conversation with an adult while there is a child in the room.

This is all very tongue in cheek; anyone who is parent will say ‘it’s all worth it!’

Remember, a sense of humor is one of the most important things you’ll need when you become a parent!

New Years Resolutions

2011-01-15T14:40:00.005-05:00

The other day, Abby went around asking everyone in our family what their New Years Resolutions are. I found her list in my room this morning:

Luke: To get a lizard.

Abby: Get back in ballet classes.

Miri: To go to Utah.

Tricia: To read a lot of books.

Creighton: To not let a lizard in this house.

Poor Luke.

I am a Product of Public Schools.

2011-01-13T23:10:00.010-05:00

I enjoyed school and had a great experience overall. I was well prepared for college. Because of this, I've never had any reason not to send my children through the public school system. So far, it has gone well for them. The shift to thoughts of homeschooling for me was not a reaction to any negative experience for us. It was literally a result of pure inspiration. It would have to take something dramatically positive (or negative) to get me to change course, and this was absolutely positive.

Homeschooling, in the traditional sense, has never appealed to me. I am not interested in doing "school" at home. I've had enough experience with homework to know that it would be a painful experience for everyone trying to move my children through a set curriculum at a pre-determined pace. What completely turned my head and led me down this path was an introduction to a method of homeschooling that resonated with me and the goals I have for our family.

I need to back up, though and tell a little story: When Luke was in pre-school (Molly, you might remember this), a group of mothers and I stood around talking one day about pre-school options in our area. A number of mothers voiced their concerns over whether this pre-school or that pre-school was academic enough. Our children were all 3 years old at the time (!!) and we were making plans for the following year. The general consensus of the group was that a pre-school emphasizing socialization and play was fine for 3 year olds, but that 4 year olds ought to have more of an academic base in order to prepare them for kindergarten. No one wanted their child behind the others from the get-go.

I had an interesting experience- not unlike a movie, where the cameraman zeroes in on one person and amplifies their thoughts over the background conversation. My thoughts were definitely amplified, and went something like this:

"Why are we concerned about academics for four year olds??"
"What did the Founding Fathers do when they were four years old?"
"I'm sure their mothers weren't sending them off to pre-school."
"In fact, I'm sure they didn't even begin school until they were much older."
"What did Benjamin Franklin do?"
"What about Thomas Jefferson?"
"How do children become the kind of leaders they were?"
"Pre-school has to be entirely irrelevant."

I have a memory of making a brief comment to that effect, without mentioning the Founding Fathers. It settled the question of pre-school for me, but what is interesting is how that discussion in my mind has stuck with me over the years and affected my expectations with elementary school. Whenever I would start to worry over whether Abby's teacher was helping her progress as fast as she was capable with reading, or whether Luke's teacher had an eye on his math skills, I would remember the Founding Fathers, and common sense and intuition would replace my brewing anxieties and frustrations.

The Founding Fathers lived a very long time ago. Our environment and our culture have changed dramatically, but human nature does not change. Principles of truth, knowledge, understanding and wisdom do not change. I did not know until recently what these men did for their education, but I was certain it was not what we are doing now. I was sure they were not propelled and pressured academically at such young ages. And yet these men had a wealth of knowledge and a sound understanding of truth that is rarely seen today. I think we would all blush at our ignorance trying to carry on a conversation with them. They were leaders and statesmen. They were men with chests! When their moment came, they knew what to do to change the course of the entire world for good.

These men were truly educated. They were wise. They had a specific mission to fulfill and they were specifically prepared for it. That is what I want for my children. It is what I hope for myself. It's easy to forget all of that in our scramble for degrees and careers and financial independence.

Fast forward to a couple of years ago and a phone call with my friend, Tina. I knew she was homeschooling, but I only knew a little about it. She began describing her method of education, which is based on a set of principles emphasizing classics over textbooks, mentors over professors, inspiration over compulsion, simplicity over complexity, quality over conformity, and structured time rather than content. It is a method of education that is propelled by the student's own curiosity rather than a set curriculum of required information and testing. I was particularly intrigued by the principle of inspiration and curiosity as the driving force in learning for children.

That made absolute sense to me.

When I recall my own grade school years, the only things I can repeat to you today are those facts and skills I still use in every day life, some information I absorbed from teachers who inspired me, and the knowledge and skills gained from projects I was allowed to do based on my own curiosity. To this day I can tell you all about the Loch Ness Monster, the country of Iphacles I created, my book of poetry, how to run a bread bakery for our class store.... Because these were things I got to choose to do and was curious about! Other than basic math and spelling, all the rest made a quick exit from my brain as soon as testing was completed.

We absorb and retain what is most interesting to us. And what is most needful. Particularly when we're young.

Tina went on to explain that when we allow learning to take place in this way, the student naturally develops a desire to study deeply and pursue more scholarly learning over time. Because he has a hunger for it. Learning has been a pleasure. And when the desire is there, the student learns, understand *and retains* exponentially more. What might take years in an elementary school setting is learned in a matter of weeks, or days, or even hours. And it grows from there.

When the education is based in classics, the student is inspired by the actual works of great thinkers, artists and individuals in history- ultimately to think independently, to create, to improve upon ideas and errors of the past, to preserve freedom, and especially to recognize his own unique mission in life and chart a course to fulfill it. All along the way there should be teachers, leaders and mentors to inspire the student to greatness.

It sounds so lofty and impractical in my pathetic attempt to outline it here. But it makes so much sense! Somewhere in my conversation with Tina, she mentioned the name of this method of education:

A Thomas Jefferson Education

I almost had to laugh. Sometimes God is so mysterious. And other times, he just lays it all out and tells you how it is. I am sure there was no coincidence in the thoughts I had that day with those pre-school mothers. He was simply laying the foundation in my mind because I was asking the questions. And here I am years later, learning at last how the Founding Fathers were educated.

There is so much more to this method than I can cover in this post, but you can read a little more about it Here

A Thomas Jefferson Education, or TJEd, was my jumping-off point with homeschooling, but over the past year, I have continued to explore the subject of education in an effort to understand how God wishes us to undertake it. I know, I know- I'm always bringing God into everything. I can't help it. I wish I could go into every detail of what I am learning, but I suppose it's an individual journey... I would probably just write in circles trying to explain myself. In short, I have found myself experiencing a paradigm shift that I didn't entirely expect. I am coming to see education in a new way- layer by layer, as I study about ideas and methods I hadn't taken the time to consider or question before. It is enlightening to open the door to a whole new realm of thought that is so relevant to my life and my future goals.

Basically, my approach to homeschooling right now uses the principles of TJEd as a base, with a particular emphasis on scripture studies. I feel strongly that the day to day details need to be a matter of trusting my own inspiration as to what Luke (an each of my other children) needs, following his own cues, and expecting that I will be led to the best resources. I know that sounds scary and vague, but it's not. If Nephi can build a ship, I can come up with the tools my children need to become truly educated. That has been confirmed to me. And it has already begun.

Fortunately, I have had some time to read, ponder, observe, pray and outline a plan for this first phase and to define an overall vision. I expect that I will grow into preparation for the next phase, because I haven't planned for that yet! I'm sure I will stumble and fall plenty of times along the way. But I'll dust myself off and keep going. I don't know every detail about everything, I just know what I need to do right now. Today.

And sometimes that's all it takes to move in the right direction.

Why in the World

2011-01-11T23:20:00.006-05:00

would I want to homeschool my children?

Long Answer:

I never thought I would homeschool. It didn't really occur to me as an option. Probably because I wasn't looking for another option.

Knowing what I know now, I can see my desire to teach my children was born when Luke was. As he reached pre-school age, I realized how much I enjoyed seeing the world through his eyes; I was experiencing the wonder of life all over again- and in some ways for the very first time. We spent a lot of time outside. He was so curious about every little leaf and bug, and I found myself eager to satisfy his curiousity, and to spark even more fascination. One particular fall day on Dearborn Street, gathering leaves with Luke, I envisioned a time when he would be able to understand far more than his little mind could process at present, and I wanted to be there! I wanted to be a part of all those moments of Wonder and Wow.

Before I knew it, Luke was starting Kindergarten, and for the first time, I could sense time slipping away- time spent with him. As I look back on it, I find it interesting how willing I was to turn over my little boy, barely five years old, to someone else to teach and train. I will admit that because of his intense personality, I looked forward to school fueling some of the energy he requires. But at the same time, my heart was reluctant to let him go, and I so looked forward to seeing his face appear as he descended the steps of the school bus and ran into my arms each day at Noon.

The hugs, the hand-holding. The delightful smiles and conversations. The days when Mommy still reigns supreme. Why was I compliant to bring that to an end? Why was my heart silenced in the name of education? Well trained by culture and tradition to believe that a child must begin formal schooling at the tender age of five years old. That I must lay my heart's reluctance on the altar of academic progress.

As we pass from mother love to rational planning for the future, we are passing away from the realm of instinct into that of choice and reflection: and if instinct is the source of value, planning for the future ought to be less respectable and less obligatory... What is absurd is to claim that your care for posterity finds its justification in instinct and then flout at every turn the only instinct on which it could be supposed to rest, tearing the child almost from the breast to creche and kindergarten in the interests of progress..." [C.S Lewis, The Abolition of Man]

Interesting thought.

Fortunately, Luke's kindergarten was only half-day. He seemed to love it, but we needed that transition time. He would come home at lunch time and I could still have the rest of the afternoon with him. I could see how precious this time was, so I declared those afternoons: Lukey Days. Time to do whatever his little five year old heart desired- with Mommy. I tried to get the daily tasks done while he was at school so we could spend afternoons together- Luke, Abby and Me. I made it coincide with naptime for Miri so that my attention wasn't so divided. Picnics on the lawn, bike rides, playing games, reading, and countless hours wandering the forest path behind our home in Washington. Our memories in the forest are our favorite. Luke talks about them still. Abby Days and Miri Days have been just as memorable.

If for this reason alone, I am grateful for Kindergarten. I am grateful that it makes the clock tick louder for me so that I snatch the opportunity for these memories during such a sweet and fleeting time of life (one that feels endless and eternal the first time around.) Of course it isn't easy. I am constantly pulled in other directions. And some days, I give in to distraction or duty or fatigue, and send the kids off to play without me. But I hope I have resisted often enough.

Ironically, these kindergarten days have only given me a taste for more. More exploring, more play, more teaching, more training, more time. More of me- for them. Which is precisely what is so difficult to do. School requires a majority of their time, and the rest is quickly filled in with outside activities, friends and more school- in the form of homework. And that doesn't include my own daily tasks and projects, and the needs of the twins that can crowd out time with older ones. Mornings are a blur of getting everyone dressed, fed and out the door, and afternoons and evenings are only slightly less blurry-- but only because I don't feel I can put my children in any lessons right now. There isn't room for it. Not unless I want to sacrifice unstructured play time after a SEVEN HOUR school day with ONE RECESS. I'm not willing to give that ONE HOUR between school and dinner over to anything but running, jumping and playing to no drummer's beat but their own. And even then, it is not usually time spent with Mom. It is time spent being children.

Some of this is about the fact that I do not like to live a life of rushing and hurrying with full, tight schedules. I've been spoiled by twins. Having them forced me to surrender to a very slow, home-bound life for the past few years. It has been a blessing. I've come to love being at home, and found that a calm, careful life, free of unnecessary extras is important for me to be who I want to be and do what I truly want to do as a mother. As long as I can control that, I will.

But most of all, there just isn't enough time.

In those early days with Luke, the future seemed to hold plenty of time. But now I feel it slipping through my fingers faster and faster by the year. Like our Lukey-Days, homeschooling right now is my way of seizing the day of opportunity while it is still here. Before my children must naturally sever ties with home and seek further development, education and experience elsewhere. I'm not ready to turn them over to teachers, trainers, coaches and instructors for the majority of their days just yet. Despite what our culture promotes, I know they are not ready for it, either. I want to keep them as close to me as possible, to provide the foundation of values, character development, spirituality, recognition of truth, and skills in self reliance that I feel are so important for true success and happiness in life, but cannot fully be taught in a public school setting.

Although my views on education are changing, I will always have great respect for the wonderful school teachers of the world, of whom I know many. I am in awe of them- of the very life-blood that they give to their profession for the sake of our children. In my opinion, they deserve a free pass to heaven. I will always be grateful to them.

I know that homeschooling is not possible or desirable for everyone. I know that there are many ways to mother and raise children and there are many options for great education. In fact, the path may end up looking different for each person in our family. I think my desire to homeschool right now is as much about my own journey in life as it is about my children.

When I sent my children off to school this fall, I had a hollow feeling as I went about my daily routine. What was once a relief (getting things done alone), had become a less fulfilling series of motions to maintain our home and physical needs and to finally attend to myself, mentally, after so many years. It was so different from the deep soul satisfaction that came from having all of my children around me during the summer, when I had a plan to teach and train them. (Because we all know how it is without a plan!) I have had so many little ones around me for so long that this was my first experience recognizing such a contrast.

When that empty feeling crept in, a little voice came along with it and told me that in that moment I had a choice- to remember that feeling and do something about it soon, or to continue on my way, and let that quiet nudging from my heart become muffled, and ultimately silenced as I filled my days with the usual projects, commitments and pursuits that rush in and devour a mother's time- especially now that I no longer had all five children at home all day.

I chose to remember.

It's not that I feel adequate to home school. Its that my heart longs to be there for all of the wonderful learning moments of their childhood, and it longs for me to be the one who has the greatest influence in their lives. This is one way I can try to do that. I know that whether I feel it or not, I have the potential and capacity to teach, train and nurture my own children. I know that God will bless me to be equal to the task.

And again, I will put my trust in him. And again, Behold I and the children which God hath given me. [Hebrews 2:13]

I am excited at the prospect of devoting everything I am- all of my time, talents, blessings and efforts to an endeavor that could have such a powerful impact for good.

What continues to drive me in this decision is the desire I have to trust my heart and let instinct have its say. To recognize it's voice amidst all of the other voices of logic, reason, culture, tradition and fear that persist loudly as I chart the course of our family life--and in this case- our children's education.

One day last year, amidst lots of thought about homeschooling, I ran up to put something away in the girls' room and found this paper, obviously pulled from Luke's scrapbook, randomly taped to their wall:

(Kindergarten)

Short Answer:

I am following my heart.

All In Good Time

2011-01-05T22:33:00.002-05:00

Deciding to homeschool, how to homeschool, who to homeschool and why in the world I want to homeschool has been a process over many years. Because there are so many factors involved, I've found it difficult to give simple, concise answers to questions I get from family and friends.

According to Albert Einstein:

If you can't explain it simply, you don't understand it well enough.

I hope that's not entirely true, since I usually think and feel so deeply that I can rarely explain myself simply in words. It's a challenge for me (hence the title of my blog). In the spirit of that challenge, I am going to write a few posts in an attempt to develop some simple, concise answers about my homeschooling decisions. What follows are not the simple, concise answers. I'm simply putting it all in words, first, in the hopes that maybe, perhaps, somehow I can come up with something simple to say in the end. I'm thinking....10 seconds or less? Wish me luck.

Let's begin with:

Why am I homeschooling Luke, but not Abby and Miri?

About two years ago, I started talking about homeschool with my children. Luke and Abby were very happy about the prospect, and I came close to beginning with them a year and a half ago. However, when the moment of decision came, I knew it was not the right time for a number of reasons. There were still too many uncertainties. I was disappointed. Luke and Abby were disappointed. I was sorry that I had led their hearts along in one direction only to make them do an about face- back to the classroom. They survived. And flourished. They've always loved school, and last year was no different. I stopped talking about homeschool and they stopped asking about it. I didn't want to bring it up again until I was sure that it was the right time.

This fall, I finally reached the point where I was absolutely sure that I wanted to homeschool my children. I prayed about that desire and my decision. But knowing how happy my children were in school, I knew that something had to change in order to bring them home. Their hearts had to turn back. I prayed for that. I prayed for each of my children. That when the time was right for them, they would want to come home.

The next day, out of the blue, Luke came to me and asked if he could be homeschooled. And he persisted. I knew he meant it. And I knew this was an answer to my prayers. When school got out for Christmas, it hit him that he would no longer be with all of his classmates and he felt sad and unsure. I suggested that he pray about it. Pray that if this was the right decision for him, he would be calm and happy. A day or so later he came to me and said: Mom! Guess What! I had a Christmas Miracle!!! I said a prayer about homeschool and I'm not sad anymore! I'm not nervous at all!" He quickly wrote it down in our Christmas Journal. He was misty-eyed when we went to say goodbye to his class and teacher this week, but still firm in his decision.

Abby and Miri have not yet had a change of heart.

Abby has such a wonderful teacher this year. The kind I want to hug and pronounce blessings to every time I see her. I am beyond pleased. I cannot tear her away from a teacher she adores, in a place where she is thriving. I am watching her and listening to her closely. Only a month or two ago, she was talking about all of the teachers she might get next year for 3rd grade. But just yesterday I heard her mention that she probably wouldn't be going back to school next fall. I have said nothing to encourage or discourage her in her feelings. I want her to be where she truly wants to be right now.

Miri is still elated with Kindergarten- though she plays around with the idea of homeschool. Both she and Abby enviously ask Luke about what he did for homeschool each day this week. Miri said yesterday: "Mom, after my class pajama party is over, I want to do homeschool." We'll see if she understands what she's really saying... She has such a cute kindergarten teacher (aren't all kindergarten teachers sweet?) I have mixed feelings about kindergarten- which I may or may not expand on later. Suffice it to say, so far it has been very good for Miri. She has the type of personality that has benefited by experiencing another society outside of home. And believe you me- I'm using that to my advantage- and hers.

I am confident that Abby and Miri will come around when they are ready.

All in Good Time

Ready, Set, HOMESCHOOL!

2011-01-04T21:12:00.010-05:00

We did it. We officially withdrew Luke from school yesterday. What a surreal experience. I stood there in the school office and had this conversation with myself:

I am pulling my son out of school.

I can't believe how easy this is.

Should I be nervous?

I'm not nervous.

Should I be scared?

I'm not scared.

Should I be worried?

I'm not worried.

(Not today, anyway.)

Sign this paper here.
Make a quick call there.

That's it.

This is a pretty big deal.
I'm taking my son's education into my own hands.
Or,
I'm letting my son take his education into his own hands.
And I will guide him through it.

He's ready.
Luke has prayed his own way here.
He owns this decision.

And me?

It feels good.
It's the right thing.
Right now.
Not two years ago. Not last year. Not even last month.
But now.

Ready.....Set.......HOMESCHOOL!!

By Golly, She Did It.

2011-01-03T17:23:00.007-05:00

Locked herself in the bathroom with Daddy's good scissors, and........

WENT TO TOWN.

The Evidence:

Busted:

Retreating to the closet:

We think she looks like a Rock Star.

Pat Benatar, anyone??

Luke's Colonial Feast

2011-01-01T01:13:00.006-05:00

Have you ever wondered what would happen if we moved beyond frosted cupcakes and sugar cookies for classroom parties?? This year, Luke's teacher stepped waaay out of the box and held a Christmas Dinner-- Colonial Virginia style. What a perfectly grand idea- don't you think?! I thought I'd post about it before Christmas is long over. Their class has been studying Virginia history and geography for several months- culminating in a recent field trip to Jamestown and Yorktown. This dinner was a wonderful way for them to step back in time and get a small taste of what they have been learning.

Many of the students came to school in costume. They began their day ringing in Christmas- colonial style: banging pots and pans, cheering, yelling-- and then they exchanged simple Christmas gifts- colonial style. For their feast, they sat around a very long table and began with an introduction to George Washington's Rules of Civility. To improve table manners, of course!

Then dinner was served. Family Style. But not the way you might imagine it. Instead of passing the food, they passed their plates around the table, and each person dished up a serving of the food in front of them for every plate, one by one, until the plates returned to their owners.

And then they ate-- with only their knives.
And a spoon to help.

What was on the menu?

Ham biscuits
Sausage gravy
Mashed Turnips
Spiced Apples
Creamed Sweet Peas
Roasted Carrots
Crab Cakes
Hot Cider

Apple Pie
Peach Cobbler
and the most amazing Raspberry Tart I've ever tased...
among other things.

And it didn't all end with the dinner. The rest of the day was spent in even more colonial style activities.

No sirree. This was not your standard sugary, frosted class Christmas party.

This was an experience.

Bravo Mrs. Frye!

For Grandma and Grandpa

2010-12-31T23:48:00.000-05:00

Hammond AND Bennett! =)

HAPPY NEW YEAR! We miss you!

A Glimpse of Christmas 2010

2010-12-31T15:26:00.003-05:00

I am No Superwoman

2010-12-21T23:49:00.000-05:00

My good man's been traveling.
A lot.

It never gets easier.
I don't feel stronger.

I hold my breath
And pray.

But he's home...
Home today.

Home for the holidays.

Can I breathe now?
Can I wilt?
Crumple to the floor?

I am no Superwoman.

Snow Days

2010-12-20T12:34:00.006-05:00

Apparently, having snow here two years in a row is akin to lightening striking the same man twice...

So we made the most of it!!

If I Ever Had a Question About Santa Claus...

2010-12-14T22:09:00.003-05:00

and apparently I did for about 30 minutes (as documented in this very blog), that question has been wonder-fully settled by my little girls this season. These little girls- who at two years old know nothing but what they experience first hand- who react purely and simply from their very hearts to the world around them--squeal with utter delight at the sight of Santa Claus as we drive around town. It sends me into amazed fits of laughter every time! Something about both of them squealing together, I suppose. The shared joy. Unrestrained shrieks of glee! Incessant, until Mommy has acknowledged that "Yes," indeed, "There's Santa!" (And snowmen, and reindeer, and Christmas trees...)

And then, low and behold, this big red fellow with a beard appeared at our ward Christmas party. Oh boy, did their eyes get big and their voices soft. There he was. The man himself. Kate was with me and settled for a candy cane out of line, but Caroline made it into his lap When Santa inquired what she desired most, she whispered, almost inaudibly:

"Prezet."

And since that night, she occasionally comes up to me share her sweet memory:

"Sit Santa lap," she says with a whisper and a smile.

That settles it.

Just when I thought I was dreaming...

2010-12-13T14:29:00.004-05:00

My little girlies figured out how to open the fridge this weekend.

What do your two year olds do when they open the fridge?

Multiply that by 2.

A Christmas Miracle!

2010-12-09T14:36:00.002-05:00

I knew that title would draw you in. Actually, this miracle occurred in October, not December, but it's still a miracle-- at least a developmental miracle. Are you ready??.....

My twins started playing together.

YES! They did!! Just when they stopped taking naps, and I thought I was doomed (because naptime is God's gift to Mothers). All of a sudden.....really, out of the blue.....they crawled out of my lap and down from my arms, where one or both have spent the past two and a half years, and..... strolled away together- hand in hand. Of course they didn't go anywhere, they're still here, but they're romping around having the time of their lives with eachother!

It's amazing! Not just having my arms free for a good chunk of the day, but seeing them enjoy each other so much.

At first I thought it was a fluke- a quickly passing thing. And I ran around like a mad-woman tackling a list that has been growing in my head for years- unable to do anything about it. That was October: Cleaning out dozens of storage bins (and the garage at the same time,) going through decades of paperwork- sorting, re-filing, TRASHING, thinning out our school room shelves, hanging pictures that have been collecting dust on the floor for a year, implementing the rest of my organizational system at my desk (which is really to keep my brain organized). Calculating inventory, re-stocking and re-organizing food storage, and half a dozen other BIG things that require mental focus and two arms. Both of which I have lacked for a very long time.

And it feels good.

And then I went to Midway, and re-charged another part of me that was wrung out and limp.

And then came Thanksgiving. For two weeks I prepared for, hosted, and recovered from 16 people staying in our home. And it was lovely. Except I'm not a good entertainer. I'm just not.

And now, here I am this week. And the twins are still playing together!!! Mostly. And only leaving a path of utter destruction every other day, instead of several times a day! And I've realized that this is no passing thing. The fog is lifting. If you're ever expecting twins, you'll hear all about the fog. "It lasts until they're about two," they all said. "Just be prepared for it. Life will be one big foggy blur." And so it has been- in many ways. Until suddenly.....dissipation.

After tackling so many To Dos the past two months, and since recovering from Thanksgiving, I have had no desire to scurry about the past few days. I'm taking this week for what it is: A pause. Time to relax and let life simmer...before the next phase begins. I know too well that's what happens. I've seen it before in my life: a brief time to restore, regroup, replenish, rejuvenate. Time to prepare for what comes next.

I'm feeling especially thoughtful. Too thoughtful to read. Instead I'm writing. When I can. Until I can't. Such as....right now--with two little girls crawling all over me!

It must be time for hugs.

The Christmas Journal

2010-12-08T17:19:00.008-05:00

I've discovered my new favorite Christmas Tradition.

Over the past couple of years, I've started noticing all of the little miracles in my life- probably because I've never been so desperate for them! Living in survival mode will do that to you. Occasionally, at dinner time, I'll share with the kids what I sometimes call "Hellos from Heaven."

Some people call these "Tender Mercies," but I just can't do it. It makes me think of chicken tenders...

Instead, I'll say "I had a Hello from Heaven today!" And then tell them about some small coincidence or blessing or true miracle that occurred that day.

After doing this a few times, Luke and Abby caught on, and pretty soon, they would come to the table excited to share a little "Hello" they received during the day.

Just a little something that let them know God was there and aware of them. A smile. A nod. A wink. From Heaven.

Of course we don't do this often enough, so I had an idea....

What if- every evening, throughout the month of December, we make it a point to talk about all of the great things that happen- every single day. A coincidence. A blessing. A kindness. Even a miracle.

Of course, I can't completely take credit for this idea- (I believe that belongs to a certain apostle), but
several nights ago, we found an empty notebook and began our Christmas Journal. In the evening, after reading our advent scripture, and adding hay to our manger for good deeds and kind words done during the day (our gifts to Jesus), we open our notebook and everyone gets a chance to write down some happy thing that happened during the day (Jesus' gifts to us.) My children LOVE this! So do I! It's so much fun to talk about the ways Heavenly Father and Jesus bless us in seemingly small, everyday ways. And BIG ways too!

I am excited to see how it works for us this Christmas. And I'm already imagining this for every Christmas from now on.

Caught in the Act!

2010-12-05T22:02:00.000-05:00

You'll Never Guess

2010-12-02T23:10:00.003-05:00

what Craig and the kids watched tonight while I was at our Relief Society Christmas dinner.....

Are you ready for this?...

HOLIDAY MOVIES.

Yes, that's plural. Frosty, Rudolph...pretty much the whole gang. (And all without me- doggon-it!)

Looks like someone forgot to hide them away when all the decorations came out the other day.

Looks like someone forgot to talk this over with a certain other someone who also runs this family.

Hmm...who could this someone be??? Any guesses?

We had a good laugh about it all tonight. We actually laughed a lot. About all of our good intentions gone awry.

Here's the thing. I am fueled by idealistic thoughts. That's just how I operate. But when it comes down to it, my life is real. I am real. I aim for the stars so I can hit the moon. And I am usually pleased just to achieve lift-off these days! Someday I'll write all about that. Someday...

I Have a Little Story

2010-11-19T17:30:00.007-05:00

And I only have 30 minutes to tell it. Here goes:

I've been reading Hugh Nibley lately. He's messing with my mind. I love digging deep and exploring new layers of thought on old principles. If you've ever read Nibley, you know that he has a knack for this. I'm not even going to attempt to summarize anything I've read, since my brain is still part mush from so many years of toddler-speak, but I will say this: I'm learning to see life from a different perspective. And it makes me want to do something about it.

So I decided to pick one little area of my life and try an experiment of faith. I wanted to change my perspective on the "things" I have and the "things" I need or want. To stop thinking in terms of how much money I need, or how much money something is worth, and start seeing everything as a literal gift from God, regardless of how it came into my life or will come into my life. I've always felt this way about the big things. For instance, our home: definite gift from God. But not always the smaller things. I had a list of things I needed/wanted for my home, and a list of things I planned to sell in order to provide the money for the former. But once I saw all of these smaller things as gifts from God, I decided that maybe I didn't need to sell the gifts I no longer needed.

Are you with me?

If they are gifts, I ought to do what God would want me to do with them- I ought to pass those gifts along to someone else. So, rather than go through the hassle of listing said items to sell, all the while focusing on money spent, money gained, money, money, money. I decided to give it all away. Give the gifts God gave me to someone else to use and enjoy. In letting go of my financial grip, my heart was free to feel the joy of freely spreading God's gifts and making many different people as happy as I was.

But I didn't leave this open-ended. I started my faith experiment with an end result in mind. I decided that if I freely gave away the gifts that were given to me, then surely God would send my way those things I needed and wanted for my home. My list included:

An upright freezer for the garage
A refrigerator for the garage
A tailor-made sofa slipcover
A tailor-made armchair slipcover
A piano.

That last one is a biggie, I know. Especially because I had a certain kind in mind. The tough part about my list is that I'm very picky when it comes to home furnishings. One might argue that I ought not have such specific tastes. But I would say that I have too many stories about how God has sent my way the specific things I've needed and wanted over the years, so I'm pretty sure he doesn't mind if we have preferences. It's a way of expressing ourselves and enjoying the variety of creation.

So, that was my list. And I sent it up to heaven with my thoughts.

And over the past two weeks, every single one of those things, including the very PIANO has landed in my lap either free, or for a small fraction of the expected cost- which we could certainly afford with the money God has already gifted us to meet our needs.

Isn't that a great story? I thought so. I could expand it and tell you about every single item and how miraculous it all was, but I'll just leave it at this simple little something for now.

My time is up.

p.s. I have a nice chest freezer God gave us that we no longer need. Anyone looking for a freezer?