Overheard

I was driving Ben to his Freedom Academy class the other morning and had picked up his friend Baylie along the way. I overheard this conversation:

Baylie: Do you ever just want to hug your shoes?
Ben: silence--I glanced in the rearview and he was looking at her like she was crazy.
Me: What do you mean, Baylie?
Baylie: Well, I love my boots so much that sometimes I just hug them.
Ben: I've licked my shoes before. . .on the bottom.

And there you have the quintessential difference between boys and girls.

Where Have I Been?

I know you three faithful readers who hang on my every word have been positively tortured by my monthlong absence from blogland. Never fear. I have returned. What have I been up to? Here's a quick run-down. I may at some future date expound further upon these topics, but I may not.

Three weeks ago I made an impromptu decision to "take a quick jaunt" to Boise, Idaho with my two little men. My grandfather had been sick in the hospital for over two months at that point so I wanted to visit. I also had an impression that my parents could use a little TLC. And really, that's one of the beauties of this home-schoolin' life. We can pack up our little red schoolhouse and take it along. Man, my boys are great travellers. We drove to our halfway house in Saratoga Springs, where my brother and his wife are endlessly gracious to let us crash in their bonus room. Then we finished out the trip the next day. We had a fabulous time. A mom never really has a vacation when she flies solo with her chillins, but it was nice to visit home. A few things we did:

• Visited Grandpa in the hospital every day. Good news--he had a surgery the day before I left Boise and he's going home tomorrow. I guess Todd was right. He kept saying, "Maybe Grandpa won't die and it will just be a really nice trip to see our family." Way to be, Todd.
• Played host to cousin Kyle, Todd's "twin" who is four months younger. FOUR months, Todd is clear to point out. They are not the same age.
• Went bowling. My first four frames: spare, strike, strike, strike. Do I rock or what? Note that I'm not telling you what I got in the next six frames. Bowling is fun!
• Saw Planet 51 at the $2 theater. Not anything exquisite, but good clean fun.
• Practiced my newfound quilting skills by making quilted pillowtops for my mom.
• Played Ticket to Ride only twice. Sad.
• Saw my baby brother and my sweet twinner nephews for 24 hours at the tail end of our trip. The boys are 3 now and adorable with a capital A. They have tiny southern accents that are so stinkin cute.
• Learned about bones, Ottoman Turks, multiplication, vocabulary, and clever ways of avoiding school work.
• Todd and his Grandpa (my great dad) worked on cutting out his pinewood derby car together. This is a big improvement from last year when Todd and I cut it out by hand with a pitiful saw I don't even know the name of. (Lest you think Ryan is a deadbeat dad--far from it--we just procrastinated it until the last day, literally).
• Grandma made the boys fudge.
• We learned more than we cared to about gluten-free, dairy-free, egg-free diets. Sorry mom!
• We had a great time in Boise. It's always fun to go home (even though I didn't grow up there, wherever my parents are feels like home).
• Pictures? On my mom's camera in Boise. Since I owe her pictures from the last ten events we've attended together, she has every right to hold them ransom until I pay up.

I've also been reading the Book of Mormon in 30 days. Finished this morning. Awesome. More on that later.

Then, I came home and was swamped with my own life that just kept going while I was gone. Why can't mommies ever have a pause button?

Here's a shout out to the greatest husband on earth. When we got home the house was spotless. Clean bathrooms, clean sheets, vacuumed floor, clean dishes, dinner in progress. WOW! My friend casually mentioned that perhaps I should go away every other week and then I would never have to clean. There's some merit in that idea. . .

Right after we got home, Todd had CRT testing for two days (the only time we have to go do testing for school outside our house) so we were hanging out in Henderson.

Now I think we're back in the swing of things. For now.

Flashback

Retro Valentine's dance? Oh yeah, baby!

We had a fun time dressing up. Don't we look hot?

Sadly, this wasn't really that big of a stretch for me--I dressed just like this in junior high, and Ryan says my hair looks pretty much like my senior pictures (minus the side ponytail and neon scrunchies--I think he was referring to the awesome bangs). Am I really that old? And I thought I was so cool back then. . .

Prayer

Oh how I love a good family night. What, you may ask, defines such a night? No blood, no tears, no screaming or tantrums, at least a a few good seconds of gospel conversation, and a yummy treat (not necessarily in that order).

I'm happy to say that last night qualified. It may have even exceeded our expectations.

Our Family Home Evening last night was about prayer. We read 2 Nephi 4:35 and talked about how Nephi had learned to trust that God would answer his prayers. We talked about how Nephi had faith, experimented on the word, and constantly practiced communicating with his Father in Heaven. Thus, he developed faith in the principle of prayer. We listed instances when Nephi had prayed in faith and the boys illustrated them on a big roll of paper. Nephi ended up in various renditions with a mohawk, bald, with short dredlocks, and with three eyes. Good stuff.

Todd pulled out the deep thought question for the night. I can always count on my oldest little man to make me really think about life: "So, if God knows everything and he can see everything that's going on, why do we even need to pray?" Now, this wasn't said in an I-have-a-bad-attitude-and-don't-want-to-pray kind of way, but as a real question, like why does it matter? So we talked about our Heavenly Father, about our relationship with him, about how he wants to hear from us.

But I haven't been able to get his question out of my mind. I've thought about his question many times today and I pondered it this morning as a went to the temple. I realized that it is a good idea to reflect on that very question in order to improve my prayers.

Why do I pray?

Are my prayers efficacious?

Do my prayers demonstrate a faith in God or are they simply a rote repetition?

Do my prayers reflect a deep love for my Heavenly Father?

I remember hanging up the phone after talking to my parents a few days ago and thinking, "I really love talking to them." Do I feel that way when I pray?

Do I stop and listen?

When I pray with my children do they sense that I love my Heavenly Father and I trust in his plan for me?

Todd is right. Heavenly Father does see all and know all. But, if we don't pray, He can't bless us, He can't answer us, He can't direct us. He needs us to ask and to knock, because in doing so, He is able to bless us.

Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf (a leader in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) recently spoke about the love of God (read the whole amazing talk here). He said,


"God the Eternal Father did not give that first great commandment because He needs us to love Him. His power and glory are not diminished should we disregard, deny, or even defile His name. His influence and dominion extend through time and space independent of our acceptance, approval, or admiration.
No, God does not need us to love Him. But oh, how we need to love God!
For what we love determines what we seek.
What we seek determines what we think and do.
What we think and do determines who we are—and who we will become"

As I've thought about it today, that's why I pray. I don't pray because God needs me to pray. I pray because I need to pray. I can't make it on my own.

Friday Night Date Night

We didn't actually attend a session for date night this week--instead we took in the beautiful view of the temple and the night sky. This first one overlooks our part of the city--one of those dots of light is our home--within a short drive of the temple. . .how blessed we are.

A couple cool shots of pieces of the temple--we liked the shadows cast by the palms.

The bright moonlight cast a smoke-ish glow around the spires.

Crazy Auntie

An epiphany is defined as: the sudden realization or comprehension of the essence or meaning of something.

I keep having them--moments when things are crystal clear. Then I lose those moments and need reminding. I had such a moment last week. I realized clearly why Heavenly Father has not sent me six children. I think perhaps this epiphany is one I will remember?

I watched my darling nieces and nephew for 2 days and nights while my brother and his wife went to a little convention here in good ole' Vegas. 2 + 4 = 6 crazy kids. I sure love them, but multiplying my own brood by 3 was quite the reality check! It was crazy, it was loud, and my two-year-old niece has boundless energy and ability to get into stuff of all kinds.

But, all that aside, I really loved having them here. I have such fond memories of cousin time (playing gopher patrol with Heather, climbing haystacks, learning to shuffle cards, riding tojo's, staying up late into the night). I love it when my kids can have great times with their cousins. Those memories last forever.

We had minimal tears, no blood incidents, and only an occasional scuffle (none of which involved fists, hooray!) We adjusted our table to its full length and used all our kitchen chairs for a change. It was great fun.

Aubs and I did a sewing project together--that 10-year-old is already developing some mad sewing skills. She is also mighty helpful. Then the 8-year-olds wondered why Aubs got a cool pillow and they didn't, which was followed in turn by the younger set, so my one pillow project turned into a seven pillow project. Fun stuff.

We'll have to do it again soon.

Return of the baby Jedi

Aubs in project mode

Ben loves his cousin Lizzie--they play together so well.

Does this look like the face of someone who would smear blue gluestick

all over the front of the side table?

Matching cousin happiness-- some day they'll probably be disgusted by

these matching jackets, but right now they love them.

Kyle's a bit girl-trapped. So we've made him an honorary brother.

Cool

Crazy Auntie face

On the Road to Happiness?

We had a nice family home evening last week about our family and goals. We talked about how we can't get anywhere if we don't know where we're going.

We talked about conquering new things as a family.

It was motivational.

We felt great.

One of our goals was to spend more time outside. We don't want to be a couch potato family. So, on the very first Saturday after our goal fest, we headed out to the great outdoors to move toward our goal.

We fell flat on our face.

OK. Let me qualify that. The day started great. The day ended great. It was just that middle part that got a little bit ugly. Well, not just a little bit. Downright ugly.

We headed back to Red Rock. Where else can you hike in a sweatshirt on January 9 and get so hot you have to take it off? Las Vegas does have its advantages.

We met our great friends, The Knudsons, for about an hour and a half of climbing the cliffs and a picnic lunch before they had to head back down the mountain. Then, we got to the meat of our day--we actually wanted to hike a trail. Mistake number one. Don't spend an hour and a half exerting oneself before the actual hike.

So, we began hiking. Before we reached the trailhead we began to hear, "When are we going home?" (from Todd) and "Mommy, can you carry me?" (from Ben).

We kept hiking. I carried Ben for about the first 20 minutes until he found his groove. Then he remembered he could climb and jump and act like a monkey and he got happy again. About an hour into the hike, we met a family coming down the trail. Mistake number two. I asked how close we were to the end. "Not very close," was the reply. We kept going.

After we had consumed all our Cliff bars at a conveniently located "stone couch" Todd found in the trail, he asked, "Why are we wasting our whole Saturday at Red Rock?" Perhaps we need to go deeper in our goal-settting?

We kept hiking. Climbing. Slipping. Gaining elevation. It was a challenge, but the kids were doing fine and it was by no means insurmountable. The complaining was interspersed with laughter, major posing for Dad's camera, and some really fun moments when they forgot their goal was to make the hike miserable. When they remembered their task at hand, they were masterful at whining. You would have thought we were asking them to climb Everest.

We kept climbing.

We finally made it. It was breathtaking. (Not the small pool of stagnant water called the Calico Tanks that was the actual name of the hike, but the view of the entire Las Vegas valley framed by the vibrant red rocks illuminated with late afternoon sun).

Todd's reaction? He started crying and hunched into the corner of a rock. This wasn't little sobbing, but the ugly-cry, the kind where your face gets all blotchy with red and purple and your nose starts running to beat the band. The kind where you won't let anyone touch you or hug you. The kind where you're certain nothing will ever be right in your world again. What was the cause of this depth of despair? He realized that we had reached the end of the trail. . .and we had to go the entire way back.

At this point Ben decided he should join the pity party. His cries weren't quite so ugly, but he was whiny enough to make up for it. Mistake number three: Ryan and I laughed. Really. It was seriously pitiful. We hiked all that way and couldn't even get a decent photo with the fun new camera because our children were bawling. Awesome.

So, we turned around and headed back. Actual mistake number four: Todd left his sweatshirt at the car because we really were warm earlier, but it was cold in the canyon. So, I gave him my coat and froze in my short sleeve T-shirt for the rest of the hike. As he warmed up he finally stopped crying (about 15 minutes into our return hike) and regained some semblance of normalcy. Somewhere about this time, a switch flipped in Ben and he started his unending talking jag. When he starts this, we know he's doing just fine. He's in his happy place when he can't keep his mouth shut for more than .5 seconds. So he recovered nicely.

It took much less than half the time to get back down out of the canyon. The two hour hike at a moderate level ended up taking us three hours. But we did it. We accomplished a family goal. The boys were just happy it was over, which wasn't really the outcome I had hoped for. But, I think I learned some good lessons.

1. Be better prepared--bring more snacks. We had plenty of water, but a bit more protein or some good carbs might have made a difference. Isn't this how life is in general? Don't most of our less-than-stellar performances come when we could have been better prepared but simply weren't.

2. Keep layers of clothing with you. We are physical creatures, all of us. When we're hot or cold or hungry or tired, things look bleak.

3. Sometimes things are hard, but we have to do them anyway. This is the reason we will be back on that trail again in the near future. We're going to conquer it happily (or maim each other trying).

4. Our kids aren't always going to be happy as we journey along this trail together. But, our main goal isn't to make our kids "happy" 100% of the time. Our main goal is to help them find a path that will bring them eternal joy, and that's a much more difficult thing to find. The world produces a false sense of satisfaction and happiness in entertainment, so if we aren't careful, our kids think those things are happiness and they think other things are a waste of time because they don't bring about that quick instant gratification. It's a challenge unique to our time. (Again, read David A. Bednar's Things As They Really Are if you haven't done so).

4. How often does Heavenly Father look down at me and say, "you're making this harder than it is? It really isn't that bad. Just back up and change your perspective." The hike really wasn't that bad. My kids were physically fine. Other than being a bit chilly, their basic needs were met. But Todd got it in his head that it was soooooo hard. Once that thought had planted itself, he just couldn't shake himself out. I'm going to think about that next time I feel bogged down. How much of it is real and how much of my pain am I manufacturing to make myself miserable?
Who knew I could learn so much from one hike? I'm headed back next week for more. . .wanna come?

Near the beginning, what a cheese ball

Super Ben


Still relatively calm

Early in the hike, during the "happier times"

Striding out, pre-breakdown

At the top. . . This picture really doesn't do justice to the drama.

Todd never even checked out this amazing view.