Plant the Seed

We're all running on fumes at our house. We've had too many rehearsals/meets/performances/school assignments and not enough time for chores/rest/calm. It's showing up in how we talk to each other. Too much grumpiness and contention, not enough kindness.

 This is one of the things I was pondering on Sunday before church. I was praying about what we need to do differently. Specifically, I was praying about what I could do differently as the mom.

As the first members of our ward stood to give their testimonies in sacrament meeting, Topher leaned over and told me that he had a new testimony to share. I grabbed a tiny notebook out of my purse and started writing down everything he dictated into my ear. As soon as he finished whispering to me, Cooper stood up to share a lovely testimony about sustaining President Oaks as the new president of our church. Then Topher shared his testimony that we'd written down. I was so moved by what they both said that I decided I would speak too. Sophie and I stood at the same moment. I motioned for her to go first. She and I both spoke about General Conference. The first thing I said when I got to the microphone was, "I promise I didn't know we were all going to speak today."

We still need to make changes at home, we still need to be kinder, we still need less contention. But hearing my kids bear their testimonies on Sunday was a tender mercy. They're growing their faith, and they're not afraid to share it. We may not be doing everything perfectly, but what we are doing seems to be producing positive fruit.

I needed that reminder.

This is the testimony that Topher had me write down, I didn't correct anything:

A few days ago, my prayers have changed a lot. And I know how they changed. It is by the power of Jesus Christ and my family. It started at my brother's birthday. I was thinking if I could be kinder. And then I thought that my prayers could change. And then, a few later, after Easter, I said the longest prayer that I've ever said. It was about Easter, General Conference, and the Holy Ghost. Since I've been praying more I've been kinder. I bear my testimony that I know that Jesus's love is eternal and that whenever we pray the Holy Ghost always answers. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Excused Absence

Our school district gives election day off from school. That means we all slept in this morning. After two late nights in a row, I was very thankful for the additional rest. I got up, took a warm shower, and came downstairs to make breakfast. I was just about to start pouring pancake batter onto the griddle when I had a sudden realization: I didn't post on the blog yesterday.

ACK.

I scurried upstairs, grabbed my computer, and began typing this.

Why did I miss a day after not missing any in nearly thirteen years? Great question. I kept thinking about posting yesterday, but there were more pressing matters on my brain. Mainly, Cooper's BYU application was due at midnight. He and I had been up late on Sunday night editing three of his five essays. Additionally, on Saturday he discovered a problem. His physics teacher had been sent, and subsequently filled out, the wrong recommendation form. That meant that his Freshman year seminary teacher, who was waiting to fill out the "Other" recommendation, couldn't. He also realized the third recommendation still hadn't been filled out, though he was told it would be last week. Cooper sent his physics teacher an email and explained the situation. The teacher graciously filled out the correct form, which solved part of the problem.

Then Cooper had to call the admissions office at BYU to ask them to clear the needed form.

On Monday.

While he was at school.

After getting permission from his teacher, he called BYU. He was number 93 in the waiting list. He opted to enter his phone number to be called back instead of staying on hold.

And then he missed the call.

He got back in line, this time he was number 151. He again chose the call back option. Bryan decided to jump in as a backup option and was number 153. After two and half hours on hold (and handing the phone off to me since he had to go run a meeting for work), Bryan's phone won the race. I chatted with a sweet BYU student and explained the situation. She said she would send the issue to the application team so they could clear the form. She also said they were moving quickly, but it might take up to two business days.

Which meant Cooper might miss the deadline.

I got off the phone and reported to Bryan, Cooper (via text), and Peter. Peter's immediate response was, "Well, all we can do now is pray." And he was right. I said a prayer and felt a quick burst of peace. I sent a few messages asking for additional prayers.

In less than an hour Cooper got the message that the form had been reset and was open again.

Cooper and I were driving home from the high school when he found out. The joy and relief we both felt was tangible. Within minutes of that message he learned that one of the two outstanding recommendations had been submitted.

All that was left was the Other recommendation and his last two short essays. He knocked the first one out in ten minutes. It was the best he had written so far and needed minimal editing. He spent a few hours at the Cross Country Senior dinner, then came back and wrote his final essay. This was his hardest essay. He wrote three totally different versions. Bryan and I both joined him in the editing process.

He finished his essay, the final recommendation came through, and Bryan paid the application fee. At 11:29 pm, Cooper hit submit on the application.

I fell into bed just after midnight, the blog totally absent from my brain.

While I'm sad that I missed posting (as Sophie said, "Welp, looks like you need to restart your streak), I am so thankful for the prayers and tender mercies that took place yesterday. Whatever the outcome of his application, we felt Heavenly Father's love during the application process.

The Big Reveal

Yesterday I mentioned that we had a second place in California to visit. Bryan and I had planned that leg of the trip for just as many months as we'd been planning the rest of the trip. The big difference was that this part of the trip was a big secret. We had thought about telling the kids as we were on our way, but we were concerned that they might guess the surprise. Also, we were afraid that if we told them while in transit they would scream and Bryan would drive off the road. True story.

So instead we told them on Friday, the last day of virtual school. Bryan had the presence of mind to film the reveal.

So, on Sunday evening, we said our goodbyes to the grandparents and drove up to Anaheim. We had picked a hotel that was a ten minute drive from Disneyland because it included a free breakfast and looked bigger than our other hotel option that was across the street from the parks. When we arrived at said hotel we discovered it was not only much smaller than advertised, it also had a gross dirty mattress on the foldout couch and stunk like cigarette smoke. We were exhausted and discouraged. Cooper took a few pictures of the kitchen, to show it's size.

Bryan called the front desk and asked if they had a different room. No, this was the last room big enough to hold a group of our size. We opened windows and tried to make the best of it. The kids refused to put any of their bags down and stood huddled together near the door. Bryan and I stepped into one of the bedrooms to conference. The smell was even stronger in there. Cigarette smoke is a trigger for my asthma and I was feeling it with every breath. In the few minutes that we'd been there Bryan had found a different, more expensive hotel room for us. But could we get out of this hotel reservation? And if we could, could we afford the more expensive room?

As we talked I said a quick prayer in my head. I didn't ask if we could afford it. I asked if we would be safe staying in that smelly hotel. The answer came to my mind immediately, "You didn't have to pay for a rental car." We had budgeted for a rental car, but hadn't had to use that money thanks to our generous friends letting us borrow their van. We hadn't reallocated the money anywhere, so we did have a financial cushion that would cover the new room. I told Bryan the answer that I got and he left to ask the front desk if they could cancel our reservation.

The front office was in a different building than the one we were standing in. The kids and I watched out the window as Bryan walked into the office. Then, what felt like moments later, Bryan came running out of the office and across the parking lot. He burst into the room and said they wouldn't charge us and would cancel the whole reservation if we left immediately. We hauled ourselves out of that room so fast and were loading back into the van in less than a minute. As soon as the person working the front desk had said they would cancel, Bryan booked the other room. We were on our way to our second hotel of the night.

I wish we had more pictures of that first hotel to highlight how completely different these two hotels were from each other. While the first one was old, small, and stunk, the new one was indeed new, spacious, and gloriously clean. The kids all heartily approved of our new accommodations. In his excitement, Cooper took several pictures of the new hotel.

When Bryan checked in to the new hotel the clerk told him that this was the very last available room in the hotel and apologized that it was an accessible room. That's why it was so huge, it was big enough for a wheelchair. We did not mind at all.

Now that we had a clean, safe place to sleep, we surprised the kids by handing out the souvenirs (little backpacks, hats, shirts) we'd been secretly gathering for months and tried to sleep in spite of our excitement for the next day.

Instant Choir

Last Wednesday night I got a text from a member of the Bishopric. He let me and the Ward Music Coordinator know that the upcoming Sunday was Ward Conference. The Stake leaders had asked for a special musical number for the Conference, but the Bishop felt that wasn't enough time to prepare. The counselor that reached out to us had been to a "ward once and the choir director just invited anyone to come sing a hymn as a musical number." He thought that would be a great solution for Sunday.

The music coordinator gently said we should have been alerted to the need for a musical number a few weeks ago, then wisely deferred to me to make the choice. After more back and forth between the two of them, I chimed in. What he was asking for was an instant choir. It looks effortless, but requires work behind the scenes. I said it would depend on finding a song that would work, getting a pianist to agree on short notice, and reaching out to a few musical families to make sure that at least a few singers would join us for the "impromptu" number. He said that sounded good.

And then my head exploded.

No, not really, but it was stressful making a choir number happen on short notice and with no real practice from the singers. I looked to my own sheet music collection and found a Hymnplicity arrangement of Our Savior's Love that would work. My friend who plays the piano said yes to accompanying and I got the sheet music to her on Thursday afternoon.

One of the draws of Hymnplicity songs is that you should be able to use the hymnbook and copy a half sheet of paper to slip into the hymnal with the directions for the singers. It tells them if one line is sung only by the women or if the whole group should sing the melody in unison. This works, in theory. It's fine if you've at least had a chance to run through the song once or twice. But since we wouldn't be singing together at all until we were on the stand with an audience, I didn't think it would work.

My solution was to spend most of Friday night and Saturday morning editing sheet music together. Once upon a time the church had this amazing online hymnbook. You could look up a hymn, then transpose it into any key you needed. Since the arrangement we were using had two key changes, I really wanted that feature. But that tool relied on Flash, a program that doesn't work anymore, so my plan to just transpose and print didn't work. My next solution involved me spending several hours inputting all the notes the choir needed to sing, plus words and some dynamics, into a music writing program called MuseScore. When I was almost done with that I mentioned my dilemma to Bryan. And, being the technological wizard that he is, he found the replacement program for transposing, currently being beta tested. He transposed and shared the needed music with me.

At that point I shifted gears and used Kami to edit the PDFs of the transposed music. Then I printed it out and physically cut and pasted the three verses together, with directions found in the accompaniment, but not in the hymnal version.

After scanning and running it through a final digital edit, I printed off a copy of the music and stuck it in the choir bag.

The next morning, Sunday, I had to take Cooper to church early for a meeting. I used that hour and a half before church started to copy, hole punch, and highlight twenty-two copies of the song. I finished at 11:01, just in time to meet the pianist for our single run-through. This is the first page of the copy that the singers were handed in the few minutes before church started.

I spent the entire first half of the meeting alternating between stressing and praying. Seriously. I sat in the pew, mentally going through the cues I needed to give the choir and sometimes discreetly beating the time with my right hand. I'm sure the talk that came before the song was very nice, but I'm afraid I didn't hear much of it.

And then it was time.

I had no idea who would actually get up. The Bishop announced the song, saying we hadn't practiced at all and that anyone was welcome to join, even if they had never sung with the choir before. I had handed out most of my choir notebooks, but had the rest ready to go just in case we needed them.

We definitely needed them.

Bryan, who was one of the singers, estimated there were about forty people that joined us to sing, including the Stake President who admitted in his talk afterward that he was so excited he got swept up in the moment. From my vantage point, I would guess it was closer to forty-five. Indeed, there were people that had never sung with us before. I made sure the altos and tenors and basses were in the right spots (the sopranos all seemed to know where to go), mouthed a few quick directions ("the women start, watch me!"), and signaled the pianist to begin.

Was it perfect? No. I was very aware that the altos were somehow overpowering the other parts, while the men seemed to mostly sing the melody, even when they weren't supposed to. However, enough of the singers knew their parts and sang them well that most of the congregation probably couldn't hear what I heard. It wasn't polished, but I don't think anyone expected it to be. The singers watched me enough that all entrances and cutoffs were clean, a trick that doesn't always happen in a well rehearsed song. I think we were all anxious enough about how the number was going to go down that we paid extra close attention.

A shared sense of relief washed over the choir when we finished. Several of the participants told me afterward how well they thought it went. The Stake President started his remarks by saying he loved getting to hear the song in surround sound. The best comment was shared with me by one of our basses. He happened to be sitting next to a man who is not a member of our church and was visiting our congregation that day. Once the song was over and the bass had returned to his seat, the visitor leaned over and said, "There is no way that you all just got up there and sang that without practicing."

I'm relieved it went so well. I realize we probably could have sung something right out of the hymnal that would have saved me hours of work, but I guess my brain wanted to do this the hard way. My biggest concern at this point is that the Stake President had such a wonderful experience that he'll begin requesting instant choirs from all the congregations (we have twelve wards in our stake) he visits. I hope that doesn't happen.

Angels We Have Heard On High

Thank you to everyone who prayed that the concert would go well. It did! I'm still completely exhausted from it, so I'll save the full report for a different day. But I will leave you with a picture of the back of my head as I directed what turned out to be an enormous choir! We had thirty-six people sing in the choir. That's huge considering how small our congregation is. It was definitely a Christmas miracle.

O Holy Night

I'm still serving as the choir director in my church congregation. For the last two months I've been organizing an interfaith Christmas concert with a local Lutheran congregation. The person in charge of music in our ward has a demanding job, so most of the planning has fallen to me. Thankfully other people volunteered to oversee the decorations, refreshments, and the printed program. That's left me with the music, narration, and related logistical matters. Oh, and directing our choir for three of the numbers and overseeing three others, plus two congregational hymns. A friend stepped in to organize rehearsals for the two small group numbers, which freed me up to drop in and give feedback, which is my favorite part of the job. I've loved getting to stretch my creative muscles, but it's been a time consuming process.

The concert is this coming Sunday evening. I would appreciate any prayers and positive thoughts you can send our way, because we'll need them.

Back In the Saddle Again

We finally have a working van again! After two and a half weeks of sticking close to home (or going on epic walks around the neighborhood, which I guess still counts as sticking close to home), we can once again pile into the van and venture a little farther out. Nearly every night since the van broke down Topher has been praying that the van would be fixed so we could go to the park again.

Can you guess where we went today?

The People

For many years we've discussed world events with our kids. We made the choice early on to talk with them about big and scary things, not because we wanted to frighten them, but because we knew if we didn't someone else would. This often happened when they attended school in person. A friend or teacher would mention something that had happened and the kids would come home and ask questions. I guess you could say that awareness of current events is part of our family culture.

Bryan and I had been watching Russia encroach on Ukraine, holding our collective breath, praying that they did not invade. Last Thursday morning we woke to news that Ukraine was under attack. We were both heartsick. Peter and Phoebe are both avid headline readers, so they were also aware of what was happening early on. We've talked with them and tried to answer their questions.

I keep thinking about the people. There are good and innocent people in Ukraine, people who are being attacked, people that are being driven from their homes and their country. And there are good and innocent people in Russia, people that do not support the wicked actions of their leader, people that are being imprisoned for speaking against him and his horrible actions. It hurts my heart.

And I'm worried about what will happen if the leader of Russia claims Ukraine. Will he press forward? Will one country be enough for him? 

We will continue to fast and pray for the people of Ukraine, for the people of Russia.

I wish I could do more.

Not Too Little

Last night Bryan asked Topher to say family prayers. Topher is usually happy to pray, but this time he only got a few words into the prayer before he stopped. Bryan prompted Topher to continue and Topher sadly responded, "I can't! I'm too little." His l sounds still sound like w sounds.

He did finish the prayer while the rest of us concealed our amused smiles.

All the Blocks

On Sunday night I did bedtime with Topher. When I finish reading our traditional three books (they change each week), I usually prompt him to say his prayers. His standard prayer for every occasion is to bless the food, it doesn't matter if any food is actually present.

When he finished blessing the food this time, I told him that he can say different things in his prayers. I said he can thank Heavenly Father for anything, and ask Him for help. I've told him this before, but it hadn't made much of an impression up until now. This time though he asked if he could try again. I said sure and he began a new prayer. After the proper beginning, this is what he said:

"I'm thankful for blocks and LEGOS and Duplo blocks and regular blocks and five blocks and 1 2 3 4 5 6 blocks and two blocks."

And then he closed his prayer the same way he ends the food prayers. He asked me if that was better. I told him I thought it was wonderful.

The Important Stuff

Topher has been learning to say prayers. He folds his arms and bows his head and sweetly repeats the words we say. We started with blessings on the food, then moved to personal prayers and family prayers. It makes my heart happy to hear his little voice speak to Heavenly Father.

It didn't take Topher long to realize that he can choose to say different words than those we're prompting him to say. In fact, I've discovered something that's very important to Topher while listening to him pray. This is an excerpt from his personal prayer last night:

Me: Thank Thee.

Topher: Thank Thee.

Me: For my family.

Topher: Famy.

Me: And for this day.

Topher: And food. (as I open my mouth to say something else) And FOOD.

Me: Please help me.

Topher: Pease hep me.

Me: To sleep.

Topher: To seep.

Me: And be safe.

Topher: Food. Stomach.

I promise he ate a big dinner, so he wasn't hungry...

To Guide Us In These Latter-days

Because church is canceled, we had a lovely, very spiritual Sacrament Meeting and Sunday School/Primary lesson on Sunday in our home. Peter prepared the Sacrament, Bryan blessed it, Cooper passed it. They were all so careful and reverent. My heart swelled with joy watching them each serve our family in those ways.

The girls all played a roll as well. Sophie gave our opening prayer, Phoebe shared the third Article of Faith, and I taught the lesson. Peter and Cooper also shared their testimonies of specific topics and everyone participated in the lesson. Topher wanted to share as well, so he stood at the front of the room while Cooper spoke. 

We had planned to take an hour for all of it, but we ended up going closer to an hour and a half, only stopping because Topher needed to take a nap. When I finished my lesson I asked if the kids could feel the Spirit in our home. His presence was strong.

In all of this chaos and uncertainty, I keep going back to a few important points. We've been prepared for this for years. For as long as I can remember the leaders of the Church have counseled us to have food storage on hand in case of an emergency. I have dedicated space in my basement for that food. Additionally, we've been practicing home-centered church for over a year now, ever since President Nelson announced that we needed to realign how we worshiped. Our current experience might have been much more overwhelming if we hadn't already been having several small church lessons each week as a family.

I have a testimony that we have a living Prophet on the earth today. He is inspired. Our family is much more prepared for this pandemic than we might otherwise have been because we listened to and followed his counsel.

Life of Mom: The Words

A few years ago I noticed several blog posts and Facebook updates encouraging moms to "get in the picture." I think about that campaign sometimes as I'm taking pictures of my kids and their accomplishments or shenanigans. I realize that I'm not in very many pictures these days because I'm often the one behind the camera.

On Sunday night I found the picture that Phoebe took that I posted on Monday. Looking at that picture inspired me. I wondered if I could find enough pictures with me in them to post for the whole week before Mother's Day, pictures that would chronicle, at least in part, my job as a mom. I came close with four out of five days and decided to save Friday for words.

This job of mine, it's hard work. There are no days off, no lunch breaks, no substitutes to cover for me. Bryan is wonderful and goes out of his way to support me and give me a breather now and then, but I still feel like I'm always on duty. Today I literally woke up tired and ready for a nap.

Does it sound like I'm complaining? Don't worry, I'm not, just painting a picture. Because the thing about this insanely hard job is that I love it. Love, love, love, love, love it. I love these little (and not so little) humans that I get to teach and watch grow and learn. I love that I made the choice to be with them at home. There are times when I feel judged or looked down on for my choice to stay home. Sometimes that judgement comes from my own brain. But when I can get outside my own insecurities I can see that this is the right choice for our family.

This last year has been exhausting, physically and mentally and emotionally. One thing I've done to treat that has been to focus on the love and gratitude I have for my family. In my morning and evening prayers I talk about how much I love them. Then I tell them each day that I love them. And the more I talk about it, the more I feel it. That keeps me moving forward.

Happy Mother's Day!

The Conference Report

This past weekend was something I look forward to every six months, General Conference. I watched nearly all five sessions (I missed part of the Priesthood session doing bedtime stuff) and am looking forward to diving back in to listen to the talks again.

As always, there were certain talks that really stood out to me. Here are the top seven in no particular order:

• Careful Versus Casual by Becky Craven (Peter and Cooper said this was their favorite too.)
• A Home Where the Spirit of the Lord Dwells by Henry B. Eyring (This talk was a direct answer to prayer.)
• Behold the Lamb of God by Jeffrey R. Holland
• Abound With Blessings by Dale G. Renlund
• "Come, Follow Me" by President Russell M. Nelson
• Exercising Our Spiritual Muscles by Juan Pablo Villar
• Christ: The Light That Shines in Darkness by Sharon L. Eubank

I tried to make that a top five list and couldn't. There were several others talks that I enjoyed and learned from as well. And the music, which is always gorgeous, was stunning. The kids did a great job on Saturday and even shushed each other a few times so they could hear the talks. Sunday was a little rougher, but we made it.

There were a few unexpected moments of humor from things the kids said during Conference. I took notes.

Sophie: What's his name?
Me: President Eyring.
Sophie: President Irony? He's my favorite.

"Wow, he's young".-Peter, looking at Ryan Murphy, the Associate Music Director of The Tabernacle Choir on Temple Square.
"Does he even age?!" -Cooper, right after Peter.

"Key change!" -Sophie, every time there was a key change in any of the songs.

"I don't have a wife. What should I do about that?" -Cooper, after hearing President Nelson talk about Priesthood holders treating their wives well.

I'm so thankful for General Conference. I love the spiritual uplift it gives and the peace it brings into our home.

Two, One, Two, One

Sophie has been doing reading lessons for a year now. That's kind of a misleading statement. We took a great big break when Topher was born, so I guess it's more accurate to say that we started reading lessons a year ago, but they certainly haven't lasted the whole duration. In that time we've restarted twice and some lessons have taken two days instead of one. We're using the same book I used to teach Peter, Cooper, and Phoebe to read. There are one hundred lesson in total. Today we finished lesson forty-two.

Today's lesson, the photo credit goes to Sophie.

Reading lessons were not easy with any of them. If memory serves, Cooper took less prodding than the others, but I think that's because we saved the lessons for just before bedtime when he and I could have one-on-one time. He thrives with that kind of attention and so didn't put up a fight. Peter and Phoebe definitely did put up fights, but they still did the lessons.

Most days Sophie flat out refuses. She's screamed, cried, thrown things out of anger at being asked to sit with me and learn to read. Occasionally she complies. Usually she does not. Last week, after I asked her to come do a reading lesson she replied, "I'm never going to do a stupid, hateful, disgusting, 100% reading lesson." Her adjective game is on point, even if her obedience leaves something to be desired.

I realize that all kids learn to read at different rates and that I probably shouldn't push it if she's not ready. But, knowing Sophie, I think it's more a case of "I don't want to and you can't make me." That's not going to work so well when she starts Kindergarten in the fall.

I was praying about how to help her, if not learn to read, at least be willing to learn in general. I listened to some really great speakers talk about motivating children and I had an idea. We tried it out the Friday before Topher went into the hospital, then a few times this week. And it's working. I mean, she still argues and doesn't want to do the reading lesson, but not as much as usual.

What are we doing differently?

Instead of pushing through and doing a lesson in one sitting, I set a timer for two minutes. When the time is up, she picks a song and has a dance party for one minute. Then we do two more minutes of reading, followed by another minute of dancing. We repeat the process until the lesson is done.

The first time it worked beautifully. She had so much fun dancing and liked that it felt more like a game. The second time she tried to run down the clock by going slowly and chatting instead of reading. I saw through her plan and told her I would pause the timer each time she stopped the lesson, thus delaying the mini dance party. She stopped that ploy. Today it worked well and went surprisingly fast.

Here's hoping we can get through a few more lessons before we have to change tactics again.

Charity Suffereth Long and Is Kind

With all the stress and worry and difficulty of last week, we would have been much worse off if not for some help that we received.

On Monday evening of last week I got a text from my brother that lives just a few hours away, offering to help. Then his wonderful wife sent a text saying that she didn't work the next day and that they could be at the hospital/house in three hours. At that point I had only slept for two and a half hours during the last two days, so I said yes. They drove two cars up; Leah came to the hospital and held Topher so I could sleep and Jordan came to the house to help Bryan. They were an answer to prayer.

After transporting the girls to and from dance and doing the bedtime routine so Bryan could come to the hospital, Leah drove home Tuesday night. Jordan stayed and worked remotely for the next two days. In the early hours of Wednesday morning I learned that my brother Isaac and his fantastic wife Falisha had offered to fly out from California to help. They would arrive on Thursday and Friday. That meant I just needed to get through another few days flying solo at the hospital.

Later that morning, after the sun was up, a friend from church texted and asked if she could come hold Topher so I could sleep. This was shortly after I had started pumping and was feeling a little frantic about taking care of both of us. I said yes. I did the same when four other friends made the same offer. These marvelous women came and held my baby and kept me company and made it possible for me to sleep. I don't know how I would have handled everything without these sweet ladies from church.

Isaac and Falisha have been a great help, first at home so Bryan could come to the hospital, then to me and Topher when Bryan was home with the other kids, and finally in taking care of all of us when we were home again but exhausted. They've both gotten sick while here, but continued to help anyway. They will go home today and we will miss them so much.

Our family has been blessed by so many people through these hard weeks, those that came and gave their time and those that prayed and checked on us from afar. These are the best Valentine's Day gifts we could have hoped for.

Hello Mudda, Hello Fadda

Peter spent the last week in Palmyra, New York at Boy Scout camp. We were nervous to send him so far away for a whole week, especially since he would need to depend on others for his food. Bryan and Peter spent the two weeks leading up to camp preparing. They made sure he had all the required camping supplies, sprayed all of Peter's clothes and sleeping bag with permethrin, and stocked him up with a week's worth of canned food just in case the food in the cafeteria was not a safe option.

Last Monday, Peter came in during the wee hours of the morning to say goodbye to Topher. I got a hug too.

Then Bryan and Cooper (because he wanted to see Peter off) delivered Peter to our church building at 4:45 in the morning.

Bryan and I worried about Peter and kept telling ourselves that no news was good news. On Wednesday afternoon we got a treat. The boys spent time on their own that day, praying and pondering in the Sacred Grove. Peter specifically asked one of his leaders to send this picture to me.

We missed Peter while he was gone. On Wednesday night Cooper told me that he was having trouble remembering what Peter looked like. I pointed out the many pictures of Peter we have around the house. Then Cooper said he was also starting to forget what Peter sounded like. I certainly felt his absence. Peter has become quite helpful around the house. He's great at cleaning the kitchen, he can hold Topher if I need him to, and he's even started changing wet diapers. I hadn't realized how much I've come to rely on Peter until he wasn't here for a week. I know Bryan missed hanging out with Peter in the evenings after the other kids were in bed.

By Saturday afternoon, we were all eager to have Peter back. Bryan sent me this picture from the pickup.

Peter was exhausted (he took a rare nap after church on Sunday, proof of how tired he was even after a full night's sleep), filthy (two showers were required), and sunburned. What he was not was covered in bug bites. Apparently two of the other boys had fifty bites each. Peter, who is usually a magnet for mosquitoes, had three. The time it took to cover everything in permethrin was well worth it.

Peter had a wonderful time. He did actually eat some of the food served at camp (breakfast and hot dogs) and also ate almost the entire supply we sent with him. He was able to watch the Hill Cumorah Pagent and have some sweet spiritual experiences. He's convinced that Sophie grew taller during his six day absence, but I think he's the one that grew. He seems older, a little more mature than when he left, more of a young man than a kid.

I suspect that's the true purpose of camp.

A Child's Prayer

Baby Brother is still comfortable and secure and not showing signs of making his appearance into the world. Tonight during bedtime prayers, this request was offered:

Phoebe: Please help Baby Brother to come tomorrow or tonight. And please help us to know his name-

Sophie: (interjecting from her side of the room, in a singsong voice) Bobby Anderson!

Phoebe: That is not Bob Anderson.

Amen Phoebe, amen.

Every Six Months

General Conference is this weekend! I've been looking forward to this for the last six months. I love hearing from the Prophet and other leaders for our church. It fills my soul.

Curious about what eight hours of spiritual nourishment looks like? Everyone can watch Conference from their own computer. You can go to this website for all the dates and times. We'll be watching from our Roku (if we can find it) or connecting a laptop to our TV.

I'll leave you with one of my favorite quotes from last April's General Conference.

Source

The Right Place

We're not going to be homeless!!!

HUZZAH!!!

A week after applying for a townhouse in the school district and ward that we felt very inspired to live in (which had exactly one other rental available, and yes, we had applied for that too), a week that was full of agonizing stress and fear and the kind of worry that makes it hard to breathe, after a Priesthood blessing from Bryan which counseled patience, we found out we will have a place to live for the next two years. Two years in one place!? That sounds like forever for us.

A week ago Monday we had two applications out, one in our preferred school district and ward, one in the other ward. The latter was our backup. As I was driving to the store with the kids, Bryan called to tell me that our second choice had turned us down because they didn't think we could afford it. I felt like someone had punched me. It was on the higher end of what we wanted to pay, but still within our price range. I had a hard time turning my anger and hurt off.

A new listing popped up in my email while the kids and I were shopping. The sting of rejection still fresh, I was not overly optimistic as I opened the link. I parked in the toy section to review the information. With a chaotic whirlwind of children surrounding me, I scrolled through pictures, a feeling of urgency growing in my chest. I called Bryan immediately and told him I would go see that house right away if possible. He looked at it while we spoke and we submitted an application without even seeing it in person.

The next morning we visited three potential homes, including the property we'd applied for. It was beautiful in the pictures, but I was afraid it would have some terrible and unlivable flaw, like stinking of cigarette smoke, an absolute no for this asthmatic. But it didn't. It was large and lovely and just lived-in enough that I felt comfortable having our kids there. After seeing only a few rooms, Bryan turned to me and mouthed the words, "This is it."

My response? "I know."

And then we waited. And waited. And waited. Our realtor sent daily notes to the owners' realtor, asking for an answer. Two other people had applied right away as well, the landlords wanted to make a fair choice. And so we kept waiting. We continued to look at other properties. We finally applied for one more, another beautiful home that was in the wrong school district and a different ward and would have been the same price as the home that told us no.

We prayed all week long, first that we would be able to live in the townhouse we had loved, then to live where we were supposed to live, then to just not be homeless. We only had a week left in corporate housing and that fact played in a continuous loop in my head. By Sunday night, we were desperate. We knew that school started in both districts the next day, and our kids weren't signed up anywhere. I even seriously thought about homeschooling them for a while, you know, while we lived in our van and showered at truck stops.

The blessing that Bryan gave me had calmed my nerves quite a bit. It was easier to remember that everything would work out. I held tight to the word "patience" from Thursday night, when I received the blessing, until Monday afternoon when we got the call. The house that we wanted had picked us. A wave of apprehensive relief washed over me at the news. Until the contract was signed, I was still going to be slightly on edge, but so much of the fear melted away.

We signed the contract yesterday and did all of the paperwork to register the kids for school. We hope to complete that process today. We'll get the keys tomorrow and our packed-away belongings will arrive a week later.

Thanks to all of you that included us and our housing search in your thoughts and prayers. I truly have a testimony of prayer, and of patience.