Clubbing

Once upon a time I was in The Best Book Club Ever. That wasn't its official title, but it might as well have been. We would talk for hours about the books we had read. We would share our insights and our questions. We developed wonderful friendships.

When my time in that book club came to an end, I mourned. I missed it terribly. I found another book club in our new ward and anxiously read the assigned book. I arrived the night of my first book club ready to discuss and ask questions and be edified. We talked about the book for thirty minutes, then proceeded to talk about the "super-cute" refreshments for another thirty.

I left crestfallen.

My expectations, it appeared, were way out of whack. No book club would be able to live up to the memory of The Book Club That Filled My Soul. I attended the new group a handful of times, then just stayed home and read books on my own.

I related the disappointing book club experience to a good friend who had been in The Magical Book Club of Wonder with me. She shared her own less-than-satisfactory book club experiences with me. I don't remember who had the idea originally, but in a moment of brilliance we decided that we would form our own book club. We were in two different states, so our meetings would take place over Skype or Google Hangouts. We made a list of books we wanted to read, picked one, and scheduled our first official book talk.

We've now had several meetings of our miniature book club. Last night we talked about To Kill a Mockingbird. I've been saying for years that it was one of my favorite books and I was relieved to find that, in the eighteen years since I first read it, my opinion of the book has not changed. My perspective and understanding have grown, but my love for the book has remained.

My new book club is one of the highlights of my month. Not only do we have wonderful discussions about the books we've read, we also have a chance at least once a month to catch up with each other, which is pretty marvelous. And though I'm no longer part of The Book Club of Mythic Proportions, I'm delighted with my Exactly What I Need Book Club that I have now.

Party Planning

Our hibernation party that was supposed to happen last Friday took place yesterday morning. The kids that attended all seemed to be suffering from various stages of cabin fever. I did my best to keep them moving and engaged, but they were a squirrely bunch. I was glad when we finished the learning/activity portion and moved on to snack time at the end.

As I was gathering my supplies this morning before the party, Phoebe saw me put raisins and fruit snacks, my potluck contributions, into my bag. She was concerned and let me know.

Phoebe: But who's going to bring the cupcakes?

Me: Cupcakes? Phoebe, I don't know that anyone is going to bring cupcakes. I know we had some at the last party, but we might not have any this time.

Phoebe: Mom, what's a party without cupcakes? A meeting, that's what it is.

In light of that knowledge, I can say that we had a fun hibernation meeting.

Ordering In

A little boy from Peter's class knocked on our door a few days ago to see if Peter could come out and play in the snow with him. While Peter scurried to get bundled up, I stood in our entryway and chatted with his friend. This exchange happened at the beginning of our conversation.

Neighbor Boy: Wow! What did you order for dinner?

Me: (totally confused by his question) Umm...

Neighbor Boy: It smells really good!

Me: (finally understanding) Oh. I'm making dinner. I've got bread in the oven and Brazilian beans on the stove.

And that's how the neighbor boy totally made my day.

Vitamin D

We had our first big snow over the weekend. When the kids woke up on Saturday I said that I'd play in the snow with them once all the chores were done and the house was ready for Sunday. I gave them a hard deadline of 4pm. They finished with ten minutes to spare.

The big kids and I bundled up and tromped through the snow for about forty-five minutes.

We attempted a snowman, but the snow was too dry and the kids didn't really care that much. We made a mini-snowman instead.

Bryan and Sophie joined us for the last few minutes, just in time for a father/son snowball fight. Here's Bryan, winding up for the pitch. Peter thought it was great fun.

We finished the day with warm showers, soft pajamas, and homemade hot cocoa. And my house was clean when I went to bed, which was a lovely bonus.

Games Sophie Plays

We're feeling much better, well enough that we all went to church yesterday. In fact, Sophie was already cheerful again by Saturday evening. Want proof? Bryan made this movie after her bath that night.

When you watch this (which I'm sure you will) you're going to want to have your sound turned up.

On Call Nurse

My last preschool obligation, a hibernation party, was scheduled for today. I had been planning it for about a week, but when the kids went to sleep last night I realized the plan was ready but the supplies were not. And so I went to work.

I spent a few hours tracing paper bears so the kids could have their own Build-a-Bear experience during the party. While I was working, Sophie woke up. My sweet girl who used to sleep through the night now wakes up two or three times. Last night she woke up much earlier than usual. Bryan went upstairs to hold her so I could keep working.

I printed and cut and gathered. Finally, I was almost ready; all I had left to do was cutout the bears and staple them together, leaving the top open so the kids could stuff them with cotton balls. I paused my progress to check on Bryan and Sophie. Both were asleep, though Sophie was fitful. As soon as I picked her up to put her in her bed (Bryan had been holding her), she woke up crying. I nursed her and finally she went back to sleep.

At this point it was just after midnight. With Bryan's help we cutout thirty paper teddy bears. I sent him off to sleep while I stapled them together. I fell into bed at 2:13. I figured I could get five hours of sleep, which would be enough to get me through the party and home for a nap before the boys arrived home from school.

At 3:00 Sophie woke up to eat, about an hour and a half earlier than usual. I fed her and put her back in her bed.

At 4:30 she woke up again, crying this time. Exhausted, I wearily slid myself out of bed to see what she needed. That's when I found why she had been fitful, why she had woken so much to eat, why she was crying. Our poor baby was covered in vomit.

I was suddenly awake, and, after I cried out in surprise at my discovery, so was Bryan. He and I worked quickly to clean her up and change her bedding. I held her for the next hour and finally had to put her back in her bed because I had no more strength and was desperate for rest.

At this point I had had two hours of sleep and was looking at the possibility of maybe another hour and a half. That simply wasn't enough to do anything, let alone drive to the party and muster the energy needed to lead twelve small children in lively activities for two hours. And I was concerned that Sophie might be contagious. I debated canceling, or at least rescheduling, the party. I decided to sleep a little more and see if that helped.

That's about the time that Phoebe came in saying she was thirsty and wanted to snuggle. She got her water and used the bathroom (the prerequisite to sleeping in mom and dad's bed) and climbed in next to me. Then she wiggled. And she adjusted. And she asked for more of the pillow. And more blanket. Bryan told her if she moved or talked again she would have to sleep in her own bed. She quieted down, but I woke a few more times before Bryan's alarm sounded at 6:30, alerting us to the start of the day.

It's hard to begin one day when you never really got to conclude the one that came before it.

I was still on the fence about the party. Then Phoebe started talking about how much her tummy hurt. That did it. I sent emails and texts and made phone calls to let the other parents know that we were changing the date. They were all sweet and thanked us for not sharing our germs. 

I was going to wear my pajamas to the hibernation party. I ended up staying in my pajamas all day anyway, wishing I could hibernate rather than teach about it. Bryan worked from home, in part to help and in part because he was running on a sleep deficit as well. My decision to postpone the party proved to be a good one and we all had a low-key, mild-foods kind of day. I napped whenever Sophie did. Phoebe got to binge-watch Strawberry Shortcake and Care Bears during the morning nap and emptied the contents of her drawers onto her floor to make a pile/nest for her quiet time activity during the afternoon nap. We continued to take care of sick tummies throughout the day, but by dinner most of the rumbling had calmed.

And now, all I want to do is read and slumber.

Goodnight. Here's hoping that everybody sleeps. And that no one throws up.

Prepared for the Future

As we were driving somewhere on Tuesday I overheard the following.

Cooper: Phoebe, are you scared to get married?

Phoebe: (scoffs as if the question is ridiculous) No.

Gee, that answer scares me a little...

The Same Cloth

You can't tell from this picture. But these two look a lot alike. They have the same nose and the same chin and when Cooper was littler he had those same chubby cheeks. And they love playing together, which makes me happy.

Old and Wise

A few days ago I overheard Peter say to Phoebe, "Now that I'm older, I'm starting to understand everything."

Yes, hubris is alive and well at our house.

Called to Serve

When we were in Washington, Bryan and I both served in the Primary. At first we team taught the oldest group of kids, the ones that were transitioning to Young Men and Young Women. We loved it. We had a wonderful time teaching together. We should be used to that, but most of our team teaching at home is really team wrangling, so it was fun to be with kids who listened most of the time.

Then our assignments changed. I taught the class of kids getting baptized. Bryan, along with two other men, taught the Sunbeams, the youngest class in Primary. Phoebe was in his class. Most Sundays they had ten three and four year-olds. Even with three teachers, it was exhausting. 

A few months after moving here we were both asked to be in Primary again. This time Bryan taught the oldest group of boys and I was the Sunbeam teacher. And I was Phoebe's teacher. I would hold Sophie during the second hour of church while Bryan was teaching, then I would pass her to him during the third hour so I could teach my active class.

At the end of the year our assignments changed again. Bryan now has girls and boys in his class, but they're still older kids. I'm now in charge of the music for Primary! This calling is one that I've always wanted. It's my dream calling. When the member of the Bishopric asked me if I would serve in this capacity I actually said, "Oh yay!"

I took over the first week of the new year. It's gone well so far. I've spent hours pouring over lds.org and Pinterest and Sugardoodle looking at what I need to do and what others have done. I have two file boxes of supplies from the last ten years of Primary music in this ward. And since I've always wanted this calling I've been storing away ideas in case I ever got to serve in this capacity.

Given all of that preparation, it was surprising when I had a total brain block this past week. Each time I tried to plan the music for Sunday I couldn't think of anything to do. A good idea would enter my mind and then quickly exit. I finally settled for a fine, but rather mundane activity. And while I know mundane is occasionally acceptable, it is never my goal. I continued to brainstorm when a quiet reassurance came into my mind. "Don't worry about it, You will be fine." I packed my bag on Saturday night to ensure I didn't forget anything the next morning.

Sunday, as I was reminding the kids that they needed to finish eating breakfast so they could get their church clothes on, I noticed my phone was blinking. I picked it up to see if it was anything important. I had two emails, with three more to follow in quick succession, all notifying me that due to the frozen rain that was falling and the ice-skating-rink-like condition of the roads, church was canceled for the day.

I was indeed fine. And now I have another week to plan something slightly more creative.

Mi Familia

We loved having my mom and dad and Grandma Bonnie come visit us. As I was looking through the pictures of Peter's birthday, I realized I had forgotten to post two of my favorite shots from their visit.

These two spent a lot of time snuggling together in the rocking chair during the visit.

Grandpa Marc, Nana Cris, and four of their six grandkids. Sophie was not happy about being in this picture. She was tired and wanted to nurse and go to sleep, but that just wasn't happening. Moments before she had been crying big, sad tears. We all sang Happy Birthday to her long enough to get the pictures, then I swooped her away to take care of her.

Thank you for coming all the way across the country to see us. You're welcome anytime!

Question Two

Lucky you, mine is the one birthday I name on the blog, which means I can answer the second personal history question. I know, you're all relieved.

When and where were you born?  Describe your home, your neighborhood, and the town you grew up in.

I was born at 4:44 in the morning of Friday June 27, 1980 in the bedroom of my parents tiny apartment in Perry, Utah. There were cherry trees behind the building. The apartment was attached to the back of a diner that was famous for their delicious pies. That apartment is now a dining room. I went back to the diner as an adult and thought about walking into the dining room, standing amongst the people while they ate, and announcing, “I was born right here!” But I didn’t. We moved to California when I was six months old.

When I was five and a half years old my family moved from our apartment in Garden Grove, California to a modest home in north San Diego county. My parents still live in that house. It has a huge backyard and when I was a kid we had a swing set and a tether ball, then later a trampoline. The house itself wasn’t large, but we all fit. When we first moved in, I got the room that had two pink walls and two walls covered in Strawberry Shortcake paper. I guess that combination automatically made it the girl room. The carpet was shaggy and golden. When I was twelve I got tired of that carpet so one day I moved all my furniture out of my room and then ripped up the carpet. The problem was, I hadn’t asked my mom before I did it. She found out about my project when I was done. I was afraid she would be mad, but instead she asked me to pull the carpet out of her room too.

Our neighborhood was full of houses that looked very much like ours. There were a few kids to play with, but not many, and none that were my age. We lived on a cul-de-sac and, when I finally figured out how to ride my bike at the old age of ten (yes, really) I liked to ride my bike in front of my house.

I always thought it was funny that I grew up in a town where people vacationed. The sight of palm trees and eucalyptus trees makes me nostalgic for home. Even though we lived a few miles from the Pacific Ocean, we rarely went to the beach when I was little. When I was a teenager we would go and walk on the beach as a family in the evenings, but I assume that it was easier to take older kids to the beach than small kids. There is a heavy military presence in our town, lots of my classmates and friends had at least one parent serving in the military. In my hometown flip flops and shorts are the norm, most people surf or boogie-board, and everyone knows where to find the best Mexican food. The weather there is so sunny and temperate and beautiful that I've been ruined for weather anywhere else.

Peter's Epiphany

Peter had a major realization last week. I asked if he would write about it for the blog. He said he would dictate his story to me while I typed. Here it is, in his words.

One night I had a bad dream. It was about a tornado. After I had the dream I was scared of the wind and sounds that sounded like the wind. I would freak out and say, "Mommy, I'm scared! Is that a tornado?" A few days later, I realized that the day before I had the dream my brother had been really naughty. Then I thought, "Maybe it was contention that caused my bad dream." After that, I tried to get everybody in my family to stop contention from coming and be obedient instead. After that, I tried to be as obedient as I could and my mom said that there has been a different feeling in our house.

Since that day Peter has been a different boy. For several years he has been prone to argue and talk back. And by prone, I mean he fought with us almost everyday of his life since he was four. This has been a huge source of contention in our home and family, and it has gotten him in trouble many many times at school and church. Bryan and I were pretty much at the end of our rope and didn't know what else to do to stop the arguing. When Peter discovered the link between contention and bad dreams (which I believe is quite real), he went from being an antagonist to a peacemaker. And it's true, the feeling in our home is drastically different and such a wonderful and refreshing change.

It's only been a few days, and I have no idea if it will last, but I really hope it does.

Movie Night Snuggling

Nine!

During the Christmas break Peter turned nine. It was kind of a low-key celebration due to the illness many of us had experienced just a few days prior, but I think he still had a good day. 

I put up the traditional streamers (and then forgot to take a picture, so you'll just have to believe me) and made sure all the presents were wrapped and ready the night before. Instead of a cake, we ate a decadent brunch of double-chocolate pancakes. Our fun activity was seeing Big Hero 6 as a family, which Peter totally loved. Then we enjoyed eating out with my parents and Grandma (it was their last night in town). Poor Peter had to wait aaaaallll day before he could finally open his presents.

Legos and Scrabble won the day. He got to stay up late that night and tried out his new Scrabble game against Nana Cris. The next two days he was completely consumed with building Legos, which made for a very happy Peter.

I forgot about his birthday interview until a few days later, but I'm fairly confident that his answers are still viable. As a nine-year-old here are Peter's favorites:

FAVORITE FOOD: cheese pizza

FAVORITE ANIMAL: cheetah

FAVORITE CANDY: Milky Way

FAVORITE BOOK: Percy Jackson Lightening Thief

FAVORITE COLOR: red

FAVORITE SHOW: Good Eats

FAVORITE MOVIE: Big Hero 6
FAVORITE SONG: Eidelwiess
FAVORITE BOARD GAME: Clue

FAVORITE CARD GAME: Uno
FAVORITE VIDEO GAME: Minecraft
FAVORITE THING TO DO: Play Minecraft
FAVORITE MEMORY FROM BEING 8: Me teaching Sophie how to crawl
FAVORITE PLACE: Where ever you are (That sound you hear? That's my heart melting.)
FAVORITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL: Computers

FRIENDS: Quinten, Grant, Kaigen, Oscar, Cooper, Phoebe, Sophie, Mom, Dad

Happy birthday Peter!

Question One

One of my good friends invited me (and several others, I assume) to write a personal history this year. This history consists of fifty-two questions, one for each week of the year. She emails the questions out to those participating and it is up to the individual to decide how and where they want to answer. I think this is a marvelous way to break down the seemingly daunting task of writing one's own history.

I'll be posting some of these questions here. I probably won't share all of them, but maybe I will, I haven't really decided yet. For this week I will share, at least part of my answer. Since I don't include middle or last names here on the blog, I'm only going to answer this question for my first name.

What is your full name?  Why did your parents give you that name?

I remember my mom telling me she always liked the name Margot. It means pearl; I was named after the parable from the New Testament about the man who sells all he has so he can buy one precious pearl of great price. I credit my strong sense of self worth, at least in part, to knowing that I was named after something of so much value. My dad's name is Marc, and, according to nameberry.com, that is the French variation of Mark. My name is spelled the French way as well. The silent t at the end of Margot is important to me. My name doesn't look complete without it.

Heat Wave

It's a balmy 9 degrees outside right now. That's up from the 4 degree weather we had last night when I went to sleep. Both of those numbers don't take the wind chill into account. It was so cold this morning that the beginning of school was delayed by ninety minutes, because it was dangerous for all those little fingers and noses and ears to be outside.

Our heater has been on almost constantly and it can't get the main floor of our house warmer than 67 degrees. That might be warm enough for some of you, but for this continuously-cold-California girl, that's uncomfortable. I've been rocking my big warm sweatshirt and faux UGGs all day.

And on that note, I'm going to go burrow under my blankets.

Sugar and Spice

We discovered that Sophie really likes gingerbread cookies. The one she is enjoying in the picture is sweetened with honey and molasses. They weren't particularly sweet, but they were nice and crunchy.

Christmas... Finally

Bryan was the official Christmas morning photographer. I've been trying to pick out the best pictures to use for a Christmas post but there are 138 photos to sift through! He stopped taking pictures about halfway through the present unwrapping, so I imagine we would have at least twice as many if he had continued.

And then we have no other pictures from the rest of the day.

Here is our Christmas, told (mostly) through pictures.

 Christmas Eve. I love our stockings!

 Christmas morning.

Sophie, enjoying the spoils of her stocking. 

I love the look on Cooper's face. He's watching Phoebe open the gift that he gave her.

Here I am showing off the ring that Cooper picked out from the Holiday Shop at school. He enjoyed the giving part of Christmas this year. Also, Phoebe picked out my Christmas PJs. That's why I'm wearing color!

Phoebe, wearing her very fancy hair accessory from Peter.

Cooper, just as he unwrapped his gift from Peter. Peter was nervous. He was afraid he hadn't gotten things that people would want. Before we started opening presents we reviewed how to be gracious. The kids all did beautifully. No one announced that they hated the gift (which happened last year and brought all gifting to a halt for a few minutes while we made it clear that that was NOT okay), but rather said thank you and found nice things to say instead. 

Sophie spent most of Christmas morning sitting calmly on Bryan's lap. That means that we have a lot of Sophie closeups.

She did finally get to crawl around. This required us to guard all of our gifts as she is now highly mobile and very curious.

The rest of the day was spent enjoying our gifts, eating delicious food, and staying in our Christmas pajamas. It was a good, calm Christmas.

On the Docket

On Sunday after church I was looking at my calendar and marveling at how I didn't have anything pressing coming up. There were no big projects or meetings, no plans with friends or family. I wondered what I would do with all that extra time.

Dangerous thoughts, I know.

Shortly after my calendar gazing I was asked to teach Phoebe's preschool for the next two weeks, starting tomorrow. And I'm now in charge of a preschool hibernation party that will also take place this month. I've spent most of today planning my lesson for the three-hour chunk of time during which eight three and four-year-olds will be at my house.

The moral of this cautionary tale? Never think that you have free time, because something will come to fill it up.

Too Short

Today was the last weekday of the Christmas break. My kids didn't have a full two weeks off and the time feels too short.

You know that song It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas? There 's a line that I've seen quoted by some people on Facebook during the last few days. "And mom and dad can hardly wait for school to start again." I don't feel that way. I like having the kids home, even if it means I can't go grocery shopping. I like not worrying about making lunches or insisting that the boys do homework.

I think a three week break sounds good. I wonder how I could make that happen...

Resolute

A new year starts today. You know what that means, right? Time for resolutions!

Are you ready? Here they are.

• Sleep, during the night preferably.
• Respond to text messages the same day I get them. I am ridiculously bad at this.
• Respond to emails within a week of receiving of them. That might sound like a long time to some of you, but I have a friend that emailed me in September that I still haven't properly written to. I know, that's awful. I should be writing to her instead of posting this.
• Post something on ye olde blog every week day. I've done this in 2009, 2010, 2011, 2013, and 2014. It's a lot of work and a big time commitment, but I'm still sad that I couldn't make it happen in 2012, and that regret spurns me forward into 2015. Also, this resolution and the one about sleep are in conflict, so I'll need to figure out how to make both work.
• Put Bryan higher on my priority list. I'm afraid that four little people often get my attention first, and that's just not fair. I'm brainstorming ways to catapult him to the top of the list more often.
• Listen. Listen to Bryan. Listen to the kids. Listen to the Holy Ghost. I need to be a better listener. This means limiting electronic distractions even more and looking at people when they talk to me. It also means not talking all the time myself.
• Follow the example of the Savior in everything I do. This is not a new goal, but it's one that I'm bringing to the forefront. It's also something we're working on as a family, so I need to work on it on my own as well.

That seems like a really long list. Some years I make resolutions, some years I don't, I feel like this needs to be a year of deliberate purpose.