A Year of Outtakes

I upload all of my pictures to Google+. The folks at Google (or their robot servants) put together a little movie of my photos. The thing is, most of the snapshots they picked are outtakes, not-quite-perfect variations of better pictures. I guess that's fitting since none of us are perfect. So here are some of the pictures that didn't quite make it onto the blog before. Consider it our blooper reel.



So long 2014, hello 2015.

Happy New Year!

The Big One

The week before Christmas something very exciting happened at our house. Sweet Sophie turned one year old! Her older siblings counted down the days until this important event and were thrilled when it arrived. Peter and Cooper collaborated on this birthday banner and were so pleased that they could make something for Sophie's special day.

We discovered back in September that we don't have any lighters in the house, one of the outcomes of a moving company packing and shipping your belongings. We all chuckled as Phoebe pretended to blow out her candles and I mentally jotted down the word lighter onto the shopping list in my brain. Well, it turns out I don't read that list as thoroughly as I should and I never bought the lighter, so Sophie had an unlit candle on her birthday banana muffin. That's okay, I didn't really want my newly minted one-year-old playing with fire anyway.

Sophie wasn't sure what to make of the gifts at first.

She caught on pretty quickly though.

She loved the paper - wrapping paper, tissue paper, clothing tags, it didn't matter - that was her favorite part.

See, more paper.

I should correct my earlier statement. The paper was her second favorite part. Hearing the Happy Birthday song was her favorite. She would grin when we sang it or played it, which prompted us to sing it and play it a lot.

One is a big birthday at our house. It means you're now allowed to have screen time. We watched The Muppet Christmas Carol as a family on the night of her birthday. I think she liked that I didn't turn her away every time she tried to watch, as I'd done for the year previous.

Here are a few things about Sophie at age one:

• She is crawling and pulling herself to stand on anything and everything.
• She has started to cruise a little and she is careful and skilled at sitting back down after standing. 
• She loves books and baby dolls and will kiss the latter whenever prompted. 
• She also will kiss her family members with big, sloppy, face-grabbing kisses. 
• She is curious and likes to climb into small spaces to investigate them. The big kids have started yelling out "Baby alert!" whenever she goes somewhere they deem unsafe.
• She's not so interested in baby food anymore, but is still getting used to regular table food. 
• She still nurses, though not as often during the day. 
• She says several words including Dada, Mama, na (which means food), dao (which means doll and yes, it does sound different than Dad), hi, bye, and her newest word bumpa (which means Grandpa). 
• She loves to clap, wave, blow kisses, click her tongue, and say "bababababa" which she started doing after I demonstrated what a chicken says.
• She is judicious with her smiles and laughs, unless your name is Peter, Cooper, or Phoebe, then she'll laugh and smile at pretty much anything you do. 
• She is sweet-natured and loves to snuggle.

Happy birthday Sophie!

Little Artists

Our illness coincided with a visit from my parents and grandma who had come all the way from southern California. The original plan was to have them stay at our house, but pesky things like vomit and intense stomach cramps made that difficult. Instead, they slept at a nearby hotel and came over each day to spend time with the healthy and to take care of the plague-ridden. I'm so thankful they risked catching our germs so we could see them. And I think they appreciated sleeping in a place where small people couldn't wake them up each morning.

One of the highlights of the visit was an art lesson from Grandma Bonnie. Some of the students were more attentive than others. During the first round (it was a two-part lesson) she taught them to draw an ocean and a palm tree. Cooper drew a lovely ocean and palm tree. Phoebe gave her best effort to draw the scene. Peter drew an owl.

The second round went a little better. Everyone followed directions and even painted the same picture. Cooper kept thanking her for the art lesson. While all the kids loved it, I think it was especially wonderful for him. And bonus, my Grandma didn't feel like pulling all her hair out in frustration at the conclusion of the tutorial. Any activity with my children that doesn't leave you feeling frustrated and overwhelmed is a success in my book!

Thank you Grandma Bonnie! We love you!

Oh, and I didn't hesitate at all when typing those exclamation points. I mean them deeply.

The Caretakers

Eight years ago, during Peter's first Christmas, our entire family was struck down by the stomach flu. And by entire, I mean uncles and aunts and grandparents and cousins. Everyone. It was a memorable few days.

This year at least the sickness had the decency to wait until the day after Christmas to start knocking us off. Half of us have been sick, with an additional person showing a few symptoms, but not the full blown yuck. Two of us remain untouched, so far.

Maybe Cooper and I should sequester ourselves from the germs. But then, who would take care of everyone else?

Share the Gift

Merry Christmas!

This Elf Puts In Overtime

My big project was supposed to have been done a week ago. But, as I wrote on the blog, that didn't happen. I put it down for a day and let my brain rest. When I picked it back up I had a new perspective on how it needed to come together. I've put in many hours in the last six days. So many hours that Christmas has caught me by surprise. Bryan spent today doing several of my usual pre-Christmas jobs while I worked on my computer.

The project is done. I finished it just a few minutes ago. It's almost twice as long as I thought it would be. And, thanks to some tutoring from Bryan on graphic design and publishing, it's so much better than I thought it would be. I still can't give it to the children tomorrow because now I have to turn it over to someone else, but at least I can show them pictures of how it will look.

This elf is happy that her Christmas project is done. And now, I'm off to stuff oranges into stockings...

Call Me, Maybe

Phoebe does not like nicknames. Recently she has started reminding us to only call her by her name. Bryan often makes up funny variations of the kids' names, but Phoebe let us know that she does not approve.

I overheard this conversation today:

Bryan: Come here, Phoebe-ma-lee-be.
Phoebe: Dad, you can't call me that. You can only call me Phoebe. Or sweetheart.

The Punctuation Dilemma

I over think my punctuation. How can I not? Each little comma or period can convey so much information. Returning a text message can be a laborious process for me because I write, then rewrite each reply. Add in that pesky and completely unofficial punctuation: the smiley face, and I simply have too many options.

Tonight I wrote a text to my neighbor. Then I added an exclamation point. Not because I regularly use that particular mark, but because compared with the exclamation-filled message I was replying to, my plain "You're welcome" came off as downright morose.

After rereading the note, I switched the exclamation point for a period and added the peppy punctuation to the concluding sentence. Sometimes I feel disingenuous using exclamation points in my writing. I'm not sure why, because I certainly use them liberally when I'm speaking. I'm so dramatic and expressive in person, but rather understated when I communicate via the written word.

My favorite punctuation remains the ellipses, because it leaves so much to the imagination...

The Rock Rocks Out

As part of his tenure as Rock Star of the week, Peter brought in pictures to decorate a bulletin board outside his classroom. Bryan and I had a meeting with his teacher today, so we were able to see the visual proof of his special week. 

I think it's interesting to see what he deemed important enough to share with his class. 

Rock Star Peter

Peter is the "Rock Star of the Week" for his class. Bryan and I were given the assignment to write a letter about Peter, letting his class know what a great kid he is. Bryan wrote his first. I read through it and then tried hard not to duplicate it. So that I can remember all of the great traits that Peter has right now, I'm posting that letter here.

Peter is awesome. He has a lot of special gifts and talents that have always impressed me. He loves to see people happy and will try hard to make sure everyone is laughing and having fun. Peter is a very good friend. Once Peter was playing at a park and saw another little boy who wasn't playing with anyone, so Peter invited the boy to play and encouraged everyone to include the boy. He tries hard to make others happy.

Peter is very creative. He loves art projects and will often spend hours Imagineering fantastic worlds and build them out of bits of paper and cardboard. He loves to write stories and can remember most of the stories that I've told him. He also builds cool things in Minecraft and Terraria.

He has a great memory - it is nearly photographic. He can absorb information from books like a sponge can water. He loves to share and teach. He is a natural leader, and will often have others following his lead. When he decided he likes something he will focus on it relentlessly. He reads more than anyone I know, and has finished lots of hard books.

Peter is good at basketball and is a fast runner.

Most of all, Peter is my friend.

I love you Peter,

Dad

Peter is awesome. He loves to go on adventures. He has lived in every time zone in the continental United States. He’s visited Seattle, Portland, San Diego, San Francisco, Salt Lake City, Dallas, Chicago, Green Bay, Washington DC, and NYC. Someday he wants to visit Paris and he thinks the Eiffel Tower is really cool. He’s played in the Pacific Ocean in California and in Oregon and has been to Mount Rushmore.

He has a big family. In addition to his mom and dad and brother and two sisters, he has nine uncles, six aunts, four grandparents, and three living great-grandparents. He met his great-great-grandma when he was a baby. Family is important to Peter.

Peter is great at helping with his baby sister. She was born nine days before he turned eight and he works hard to be a good big brother to her. He also comes up with fun, crazy, inventive games to play with his brother and other little sister.

Peter is always moving! When he was a baby we had to swaddle him (a special way to wrap a little baby in a blanket) so he would sleep. Otherwise he would wiggle and keep himself awake. He loves to jump and bounce and run and dance.

Peter eats a lot. He eats more than I do. He eats more than his dad does. Sometimes, he eats more than both of us combined. When he was little he was picky, but he’s not anymore, which I think is great. He’s a good cook. He made a delicious apple pie for Thanksgiving and helped make dinner for our family earlier this week.

Life is never dull with Peter.

I love you Peter!

Mom

Delayed

Sometimes you have the best of intentions to get a project done on time. And then your sweet little baby gets sick with croup and you need to hold her and comfort her instead of finishing your work. And so you miss your deadline. But that's okay, because you spent your time wisely.

My big Christmas gift project is now my big New Year's Eve gift project.

Chef Sophie

As the Gentle Rain From Heaven

You know that project I'm working on? Well, I had to put it on hold for a few days so I could write a talk. I think it went well, and, as such things often go, my topic was one that I benefited from reviewing. Today will be spent making up for lost time. That means Phoebe will probably get to watch movies while I knock out the bulk of my work.

Want to read my talk? I was only given eight minutes, which required lots of edits and judicious quote placement. Here it is:

Mercy

A few weeks ago we had a Laundry Folding Party at our house. I know, it sounds fun, doesn’t it? And really, it’s about as fun as laundry gets. Each person is responsible for folding their own clothes while we watch a movie together as a family. On this particular day we were introducing our kids to The Sound of Music.

The plan was to fold the laundry, then do something fun. The kids needed to finish with their clothes before they could move on to the next activity. The deadline was the end of the movie.

Eight-year-old Peter and four-year-old Phoebe raced through their laundry so they could be done. But six-year-old Cooper doesn’t rush. Ever. He has inherited the pesky practice of procrastination. So while the other two were enjoying the movie, unburdened by a basket of clothes, Cooper was stuck, complaining and dawdling, but not making much of a dent in his pile.

We kept encouraging him. “Come on, Cooper, keep folding.” “Cooper, you really want to finish.” “Cooper, the movie doesn’t have much time left.” I finished folding my laundry, baby Sophie’s laundry, and all the towels and blankets. We were almost to the part of the movie when the Von Trapp family has to sing at the festival. His time was coming to an end, and still he had only worked through half the items in front of him.

I started to get antsy. I sat, watching Cooper slooowly fold his clothes, wondering what else I could possibly do to get him to move faster.

A thought jumped into my head, “Help him fold the clothes.”

No, I reasoned, I can’t. He knew what he had to do and he decided not to do it. The other kids didn’t have help and they finished. It wouldn’t be fair for me to help Cooper. It wouldn’t be just.

Justice is a funny thing. My children often clamor for it for their siblings. They want my treatment of everyone to “fair,” especially when they have been hurt or offended. But when they are the ones that have done the wrong, justice is not what they ask for. Instead, they want mercy. I admit, when I’m in their position, I don’t want justice either, I want mercy.

According to lds.org, “Mercy is the compassionate treatment of a person greater than what is deserved, and it is made possible through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Our Heavenly Father knows our weaknesses and sins. He shows mercy when He forgives us of our sins and helps us return to dwell in His presence.”

In the April 1990 General Conference, President Gordon B. Hinckley, then the first counselor in the First Presidency, spoke about mercy. He said, “How godlike a quality is mercy. It cannot be legislated. It must come from the heart. It must be stirred up from within. It is part of the endowment each of us receives as a son or daughter of God and partaker of a divine birthright.”

Did you catch that last line? I’ll read it again, “It is part of the endowment each of us receives as a son or daughter of God and partaker of a divine birthright.” Mercy is a gift that we receive from Heavenly Father. And it must be stirred up from within. Think about that. Inside each one of us, the tendency to be merciful is lying dormant, waiting to be awakened, waiting to be used.

During his lifetime, Christ taught us to be merciful. Matthew 5:7 says, “Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.” Then again in Luke 6:36, “Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful.” The Savior exemplified the principle that he taught. He showed love and mercy and compassion for all, even those that appeared to be undeserving. He made mercy possible by suffering for our sins. His personal sacrifice fulfilled the law of justice and gave us the opportunity to repent and return to live with our Heavenly Father. He gave us the gift of mercy.

Stephen E. Robinson wrote in his book Believing Christ, “It really isn’t fair that one person should suffer for the sins of others. It isn’t fair that some people can commit horrible crimes and then be completely forgiven and cleansed without having to suffer for them. It isn’t fair that those who labor for only an hour will get the same reward as those who labor all day. (See Matt. 20:16.) No, the gospel sometimes isn’t fair, but that is actually part of the good news. It isn’t fair—it’s merciful, and thank God it is so, for no human being can stand acquitted before the demands of absolute justice.”

Back to my laundry dilemma: should I follow that urge to help Cooper. Or should I allow the natural consequences to follow his choices? I stayed on the couch, hesitating. Again the prompting came, “Help him fold the clothes.”

In the same talk I quoted earlier, President Hinckley spoke directly to parents, saying, “Every child, with few possible exceptions, is the product of a home, be it good, bad, or indifferent. As children grow through the years, their lives, in large measure, become an extension and a reflection of family teaching. If there is harshness, abuse, uncontrolled anger, disloyalty, the fruits will be certain and discernible, and in all likelihood they will be repeated in the generation that follows. If, on the other hand, there is forbearance, forgiveness, respect, consideration, kindness, mercy, and compassion, the fruits again will be discernible, and they will be eternally rewarding. They will be positive and sweet and wonderful. And as mercy is given and taught by parents, it will be repeated in the lives and actions of the next generation…

“I plead for an effort among all of us to give greater expression and wider latitude to this instinct which lies within us. I am convinced that there comes a time, possibly many times, within our lives when we might cry out for mercy on the part of others. How can we expect it unless we have been merciful ourselves?”

I slipped off the couch and sat by Cooper. I had folded half a dozen items before he realized what I was doing. With surprise in his voice he asked, “Are you helping me?”

I nodded. I had been afraid he would stop folding altogether, but he didn’t. He folded faster. As the Von Trapps walked through the Alps on our TV, Cooper and I finished his pile of clothes. He qualified for the treat afterward. Justice and mercy had both won.

Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy. Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ both want to give us the gift of mercy. It is available to all. As you think about the birth of the Savior this week, remember that beautiful gift. Share it. Exemplify it. You will be blessed as you bless those around you. I testify that these things are true, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

The Big Three

We'll call this one a Friday Flashback. My mom sent me this picture yesterday and it puts a big smile on my face. I think I was four (or nearly four), so I was about the age Phoebe is now. I remember posing for this photo. We set up a little studio at my Grandma Bonnie's house and gave our best smiles.

When my brothers and I were young people thought we were triplets. We're not, but we are close in age and at the time we were close in size. I never wanted for someone to play with because I always had my brothers. Those poor boys had to put up with a very bossy big sister, but they didn't seem to mind too much. Let's be honest, I'm still a bossy big sister. I'm so glad I got spend Thanksgiving with them.

Thank you for the picture Mom!

Update: I've been corrected. Apparently this picture was taken at my Grandma Miriam's house. I must be combining memories because I remember taking pictures at my Grandma Bonnie's house. Oh well, it's a cute picture no matter where it was taken.

Beans and Rice, Mighty Nice

Santa's Elf, Hard at Work

It's almost Christmas, which means I've got a hair-brained-scheme-of-a-gift I'm working on. I've gotten lots of help so far (thank you to those that are reading this that have contributed!), but the final product is up to me. And I need to have it all finished sooner than later. Don't you hate when people are vague? Sometimes Peter and Cooper read over my shoulder when I'm looking at the blog, so I'm not going to get any more specific about the gift.

This project is going to be pretty time intensive during the next week, so you can look forward to some sweet cop-out posts.

And on that note, I'm off to covertly create!

Nothing to Fear But Fear Itself

Remember how I was freaking out about singing on Friday? Well, I probably psyched myself out more than I needed to. There were some stressful aspects of the night (I couldn't find my accompanist to rehearse one more time beforehand, he played everything veeerrryy slowly, that kind of stuff), but overall it went well.

And due to the casual nature of the event, there were only about twenty people in the chapel while I sang. I know that there were many more people in the cultural hall looking at the displays, and that they could all hear me as well, but I couldn't see any of them, so it was almost like they weren't there.

The weirdest part of the night was that after each song people applauded. In the chapel. I was not anticipating that.

So that I remember (because I have a hard time recalling after only a few days) here are the songs I sang:

1. Do You Hear What I Hear (Carrie Underwood version)
2. Count Your Blessings Instead of Sheep (from White Christmas)
3. Does He Remember? (by Janice Kapp Perry)
4. A New Star Shines Tonight (from the December 1988 New Era)
5. I Heard the Bells On Christmas Day (Sally DeFord arrangement)
6. What Child Is This (1st and 3rd verses), with an interlude into one verse of I Believe in Christ (1st half of 1st verse and second half of last verse)

I'm glad I sang. I'm glad it went well. I'm glad it's over.

A Time to Remember

Peter took his turn speaking in Primary yesterday. He worked on his talk for most of Saturday. After each draft he would call me in, deliver the address, then I would give my notes. That sounds like a really smooth process, right? Now imagine it with lots of whining and arguing and you'll have a more accurate picture. The final product was pretty good. I couldn't convince him to say it in a loud voice (which is ironic since his usual volume is quite loud), but I'll keep working on that aspect of his public speaking.

Here's the talk:

The Sacrament is a Time to Remember Jesus Christ

The Sacrament is the bread and water we take at church every Sunday. In The Gospel Principles, chapter 23, paragraph 2, it says,

The sacrament is a holy priesthood ordinance that helps remind us of the Savior’s Atonement. During the sacrament, we partake of bread and water. We do this in remembrance of His flesh and His blood, which He gave as a sacrifice for us. As we partake of the sacrament, we renew sacred covenants with our Heavenly Father.

The Sacrament Prayer for the bread says

O God, the Eternal Father, we ask thee in the name of thy Son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this bread to the souls of all those who partake of it; that they may eat in remembrance of the body of thy Son, and witness unto thee, O God, the Eternal Father, that they are willing to take upon them the name of thy Son, and always remember him, and keep his commandments which he hath given them, that they may always have his Spirit to be with them. Amen.

The Sacrament Prayer for the water says

O God, the Eternal Father, we ask thee, in the name of thy Son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this wine to the souls of all those who drink of it, that they may do it in remembrance of the blood of thy Son, which was shed for them; that they may witness unto thee, O God, the Eternal Father, that they do always remember him, that they may have his Spirit to be with them. Amen.

When it says “that they may eat in remembrance of the body of thy son,” or “drink in remembrance of the blood of thy son” it can help us remember about Jesus Christ. Other ways we can remember Jesus Christ are by reading the scriptures and reading hymns while the Sacrament is being passed. In the back of the hymn book you can look up songs by topic. Look up: Jesus Christ-Creator, Jesus Christ-Example, Jesus Christ-Friend, Jesus Christ-Savior, Jesus Christ-Second Coming, and Jesus Christ Shepherd.

I know that remembering Jesus during the Sacrament is important. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Say A Little Prayer For You

Tonight I'm singing at a Stake Christmas Creche. When I was first asked to participate I was under the impression that it was a fireside and said yes. Later I learned that it is actually a three day event open to the public and advertised in some of the family magazines in the area. People, some of them professional musicians, will perform during assigned time slots over the course of the three days. I was asked to fill twenty minutes. Oh, and I'm the first performer of the whole event.

I'm kind of freaking out.

Really, I've been freaking out for days. If anyone has talked to me recently and I've seemed overly distracted, this is why. Well, this and the amazing lack of sleep I've been getting. Those two things have me extra spacey.

I have sung for large audiences in the past, but it's been maaaany years since that's happened. I met with my accompanist on Sunday and I was not great vocally. I'm hoping (and praying) that everything goes well today. I'm also hoping that since I'm first there won't be a ton of people there yet.

This reaction is really out of character for me. Yes, I get nervous just like everyone else, but not usually to the point that I'm tempted to call and cancel. For previous singing engagements I've had lots of time to sit and rehearse. This time I'm lucky if I can sit at the piano for five minutes in a row before one (or many) of the kids need my attention. So now I'm tired, stressed, AND under-rehearsed.

If you think of me today, please say a prayer in your heart that I'll have a voice and calm and appropriate stage presence.

Thanks.

Strictly Academic

Yesterday I needed to fill out a paper for school about Cooper. The first question asked about his favorite subject in school.

Me: Cooper, what's you favorite subject?

Cooper: (thinking deeply) Ummm... well... math. No, not math! Uhhh... hmmm... is parties a subject? Like, holiday parties?

He was sad to learn that no, it is not a subject.

For those that are curious, he decided art is his favorite.

One More From the Weekend

Ready or Not, He Won't Come

Phoebe 's preschool lesson today focused on Christmas. I'm not sure what all of the discussion topics were, but she came home with activity pages about stockings and Christmas trees. And she listed off the holidays in their proper order, so I think they talked about the calendar as well.

As I was trying to extricate Phoebe from the princess costume she had donned at the conclusion of learning time, the mom who taught let me know that during lunch Phoebe had enlightened her classmates about the existence of Santa Claus. I was shocked. We don't teach that Santa comes and delivers presents, but we also don't come right out and debunk the whole thing. When the kids ask us, we are truthful, but we are careful not to volunteer information. As of now, I have not told Phoebe that he's not real.

On the way home, the following conversation took place.

Me: Phoebe, what did you tell the kids about Santa?

Phoebe: That he isn't real.

Me: Were the kids talking about Santa?

Phoebe: No.

Me: Then why did you tell them?

Phoebe: (with complete innocence) Because I wanted them to know.

She was concerned that I was mad at her. I assured her I wasn't, but that other parents might not like someone else telling their kids about Santa.

As for the other kids, none of them seemed to notice what she had said, so I guess no one's Christmas magic was shattered.

Let's Go Have an Adventure

We have adventures. I don't mean the my-kids-are-full-of-energy-so every-moment-is-an-adventure kind of adventures. We have those as well, certainly, but I mean honest to goodness, pack a lunch or stay in a hotel, see amazing landmarks, kinds of adventures.

Of course, those of you that read the blog (I'm pretty sure you're still out there) have seen the pictures and read the travelogues of these adventures, so this isn't news to you. But it came as an epiphany to me today. I recently printed out a bunch of pictures at Costco to make our walls fancy. This afternoon I taped several of the pictures up, just to get an idea for where I'll put them when they have frames. As I looked at all the places we've been it struck me: we have adventures.

I want to say the adventures are because of my own drive for excitement or knowledge or culture. But really, it's because we've now lived in four different time zones and we want to take advantage of what each place has to offer. And so Bryan and I have a list of what we want to see and we put forth a lot of effort to make that happen.

The Thanksgiving break was one of these adventures. Two of my brothers live in the Baltimore area, so we made the drive down and spent four days with them. The kids got to play with their cousins, I got to see my brothers, and we all ate delicious food. Then we spent a day visiting museums and seeing national monuments.

It was a great adventure.