scout camp

When Josh came into my room that morning his tears were unusually genuine and there was no whining so I knew right away what was wrong. "Sam?" I said and he nodded his head. This boy of mine who picks a fight with his older brother on a regular basis was distraught at the idea of Sam being gone at scout camp for a whole week. I hadn't realized it until that moment but those two had rarely been apart for more than a day or so and never for a whole week. Josh's mood was heavy. The girls missed him too. After breakfast, Sophie looked around and said suddenly "Where's Sam?" as if she couldn't imagine a reason in the world why he wouldn't be there. Ava, setting the table for dinner, was so bothered by the empty spot where Sam usually sits that she asked me if she could at least put a place mat on his spot. I hadn't expected it - this sibling sorrow. I have to admit that while I had a lot of empathy for how they were feeling (I missed him too) I was also secretly so happy. You watch your kids day in and day out and they play and laugh but they fight and cry too. And you just don't know - do they love each other? I have made hard choices to skip out on some activities so that we could have regular family time and it's so hard to say - am I doing the right thing?

Nate went to the last two days of scout camp so when they both came home I followed Nate upstairs and we sat in our room and talked and talked about everything that had happened in the days that we had been apart. I needed to grab my phone so I ran downstairs and then literally stopped in my tracks. Literally. I stared for a good 30 seconds. All four of my kids, the people I love best, were sitting in the patio chairs with popsicles, talking and talking about everything that had happened in the days that they had been apart. I knew how that felt. How you need to catch up with someone that usually knows everything about your day. It was such a rush - the rare payoff for the hard work of being a sibling referee.

Still I wasn't sure if Sam had felt the same way that they had. After all, he had been away on an adventure. He had seen a bear and slept in a tent with his best friend. But that night I knew. We went to the movies to see Kung Fu Panda 2 and while we were getting our seats Sam went to buy some candy with his own money. He came back into the darkened theater and quietly gave each of his siblings a king sized Kit Kat. And in that moment I just knew. This was his way of letting them know. He had missed them too.

Ah, Yellowstone.

I loved my family reunion in Yellowstone. As I was driving home I kept thinking that I loved our trip to Yellowstone the way that I loved our first ski trip as a family. Since both stories belong in our family history - I digress.

On our first family ski trip it was Nate and I and our two young boys at the time and we were green. We didn't know what to expect or what to do - so that first trip to Brundage was a comedy of errors. There was an hour wait in line to rent ski's only to find out that we were in the wrong line and would have to wait another hour. There was the woman at the ticket booth who amazingly told us that blue squares were the easiest runs. And with that little gem of misinformation came a few good bruises and a walk down the mountain carrying my ski's. In the middle of the day a huge storm blew in and being new to this none of us had goggles. The snow turned to ice. Josh fell off the ski lift. The rental boots didn't fit. And my personal favorite - when we got to the car at the end of the day we realized that we had left the engine running while we put on our coats and gloves ... and then left it running ... the entire day. As we drove home Nate and I looked at each other and smiled from ear to ear. We had just had so much fun. I knew that if we could love the day so much- even with all the things that had gone wrong- then this skiing thing was awesome. And it was. The four of us had spent the entire day together in the most beautiful setting you could think of. There were long trips up the ski lift chatting with the kids. There was the fun of watching the boys pick up a sport more quickly than we did and the adventure of trying something new together. Hot chocolate at the lodge. Tall pine trees covered in powdery snow. The magic of the day totally trumped the long list of things that went wrong.

Yellowstone was like that for me. There were mosquitoes, lots. Josh poked Sophie in the eye with a stick and then poked himself in the eye with a stick. We all shared a room - so none of us slept much. There were lots of hours in the car and a few sunburns. On the last night the power went out and we didn't have any hot water. I got three blisters. But as Nate and I drove home we both agreed that we had had a blast. The magic of Yellowstone totally trumped all of those things. There were herds of bison and baby bison right outside the window of our car. One wolf, one bear and a herd of elk that walked right in front of us on our walking path. Beautiful hikes that end when you are standing next to a huge river right at the point that it falls to a canyon far below. The surprising beauty of hot springs and mud pots. There was the adventure of discovering something new to see in our own backyard and lots of time spent together. Campfire chats and night games for the kids. And, my personal favorite, the chance to get together with extended family that we hadn't seen in far too long and the fun of making friends with the people that are the most fun to make friends with... family.

This has been my mantra lately. I have become devoted to ordinary tasks. They are more fulfilling than I ever would have guessed. Who knew??

The good life.

Every morning - before I hop in the shower - I pick out 5 books for Sophie. When I tell her that I am picking out 5 books her eyes start to twinkle ( before bed it's "only 2"). I carefully choose books with pictures that have interesting things to look at and that are about a wide variety of subjects so that she won't get bored. Then she sits cuddled in my bed with the reading lamp on and slowly makes her way through her little stack of books. It struck me this morning that this might be my idea of a perfect morning and Sophie gets to do it every day. It's a good life.

Wisdom from the pantry door

With apologies for my handwriting . . . "Listen to the mustn'ts child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the wont's. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me ... Anything can happen, child. Anything can be." Shel Silverstein

I'm in love with a font

and this is it.

Buttermilk font from Jessica Hische. If you have an extra $50 that you can afford to spend on typography please do so here and then call me and tell me all about it so that I can live vicariously through you.

* update - Nate bought me this font as a gift for valentines day. I LOVE it! And think that he is really the best person I've ever met!

Clubbin'

We bought our Christmas tree from a fundraiser lot being run by the optimist club. It makes me smile to know that there is a (nation wide) group of older gentlemen who have a club that is about looking on the bright side. ;) We bought our tree on a saturday and then went to pick it up on a monday. The genltlemen helping us with our tree invited Nate to be in their club. I don't blame them ... if I had a club he would be the first person that I would want to be in it. ;) I was throwing away their pamphlet when this creed caught my eye. I liked it so much that I am posting it here and on the cupboard in my bathroom.

The Optimist Creed by Christian Larson 1912

Promise yourself:

To be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind.

To talk health, happiness and prosperity to every person you meet.

To make all your friends feel that there is something in them.

To look at the sunny side of everything and make your optimism come true.

To think only of the best, to work only for the best, and to expect only the best.

To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others as you are about your own.

To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future.

To wear a cheerful countenance at all times and give every living creature you meet a smile.

To give so much time to the improvement of yourself that you have no time to criticize others.

To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear, and too happy to permit the presence of trouble.

Pretty smart club if you ask me!! Have a good day!!

Ava-lina Ballerina

short but sweet

Two funny things....

.... that happened on Monday.

1) Sophie is almost all the way potty trained but to encourage her in her efforts we all give her a lot of applause when she goes to the bathroom where she should. The other day she dragged us into the bathroom to see her "good work" and then took a big bow. :)

2) The other night for Family Home Evening it was Josh's turn to pick the song. Completely serious, he told us that he wanted the family to sing "Rio" by Duran Duran.

Thanks mom!

My mom gave me the best welcome home present ever. She did all my laundry while I was away. Every last sock. And put it all in drawers too. With four kids this is no small feat. And was especially wonderful considering that after she left I brought home 3 suitcases full of dirty clothes. But never fear - I have a plan. Have you ever noticed the magical power of making your bed? Everyone knows that when you make your bed the rest of your house magically becomes cleaner. I am not kidding about this. Martha Stewart calls it "tidy begets tidy" but I am confidant that their is something more mystical going on than just that. So today I made my bed - dumped out the three suitcases - and dug in.

Happy-making!

Have you seen these?

These were actually done - no computer generated images

Check out sony bravia ads the making of on you tube to see how they were done!

What I saw at the airport

I was in the airport the other day returning home from my sisters shower. While I was waiting for my flight to board, I sat in a chair across from my gate and therefore had an excellent view of all my fellow passengers. But really I was only watching one. And so was everyone else. He was a marine. He was very tall and he was standing very straight and carrying his hat in the strangest way. His left arm was bent at a 90 degree angle and the hat was perched on top of his perfectly flat hand. He walked all around the gate area this way for at least 30 minutes. At first I scoffed - why didn't he just put his hat down. Or if he was afraid of smashing it, put it on his head. I mean his arm must have been getting tired. But then I started noticing other things. Like his shoes. They were the shiniest black shoes I have ever seen (and both of my girls have black patent leather mary janes). Clearly those black shoes had recently been polished within an inch of their life. Did you know that there are people that still polish their shoes? And his shirt. Immaculately pressed. Sure people iron their shirts every day ... but 20 year old boys? And he stood so straight as if at attention even though there was no one else from the military around.

Then we boarded the plane. My seat was next to a young man with a missionary name tag. Although I had spent the whole day putting my foot in my mouth, apparantly I just can't get enough of the taste of shoe leather so I opened my mouth once again and said. " Elder, where are you headed?" "Home to Boise." he said. "Home to Boise!! How exciting!!" I said "Where are you coming from?" "The MTC." He told me that he had a few things at home that he needed to work through. So I took a vow of silence and decided that I will never speak again. --When I told Nate this story he explained that the spirit at the MTC is so strong that it is difficult for those who are there trying to fake it. The spirit makes you want to tell the truth; to be really worthy. I wished the missionary good luck. I felt a little sorry for him as he looked out the plane window at the black sky.

But as we walked toward baggage claim, I had reason to believe that perhaps I was mistaken. For there was a huge family gathered outside of security with welcome home signs and balloons. And I thought that perhaps this was a happy homecoming after all. So instead of heading right down the escalator, I lingered for just a moment and turned around to see what would happen. But the missionary walked past the balloons and signs and into the arms of one woman that had come to meet him. I saw both of their faces crumple with pain. I saw them hold each other and sob in the middle of the Boise airport. And then I saw the marine. He walked into the middle of the huge family with banners and balloons and received hug after hug with smile after smile. The image of those side by side homecomings has haunted me for the past few days.

I think it's because at the end of the day we all have a homecoming in our future. And I imagine that the spirit there is so strong that you will want to tell the truth and want to be really worthy. So I have been checking my soul to find the dull spots and examining my conduct for the wrinkles, because when it comes right down to it crying makes my face puffy and red and I have always had a thing for balloons.

What happens when your two year old decides to get dressed for the day while you are in the shower...

Ava's 6th...

... birthday was a royal tea party. And we had so much fun. What cute girls!

The sincerest form

I think that blogs are so inspiring. We have so much to learn from each other and so many people are sharing their points of view all across the country and world. Sometimes I take my inspiration to copy cat levels (remember this). But I hope that it is in an "immitation is the sincerest form of flattery" way. I would never copy someone elses idea and sell it but I would use someones idea to make my life better or more beautiful. And blogs have LOTS of good ideas. You probably know that nienie has a back to school feast. I'm sure that I'm not the first or last to scoop up that little idea and use it in my own home. NieNie's feast this year was beyond beautiful - anthropologie linens and homemade crowns - eclectic tablesettings. Love it. I decided I wanted to do a back to school feast last year and did it again this year. But ours is less a work of art and more of a last minute affair. Our linens were the one tablecloth that we have that fits our ginormous table, our placesettings were our everyday plates on top of the christmas chargers. But we have a theme for the year and we light the tall candles and the kids think that it is so special. Traditions are part of what binds a family - shared memories that string the six of us together. So I am so happy to have a new tradition. And in the spirit of sharing here are three blogs that give me great ideas:

for recipes try smitten kitchen

for books try booklook

for graphic design ideas try good look cookbook

And the recipe for the yummy punch we had at our back to school feast.

1 cup cranberry juice

1 can frozen lime juice (minute maid)

1- 2 liter bottle ginger ale

1/2 cucumber sliced thin

lots and lots of ice (important)

Back!

Send help. Please.

In an attempt to document the true and actual facts of my life right now I must tell you that I have not left my house today. I have not even tasted daylight. Well, in all truth and actuality, I was so desperate for fresh air and sunshine that I went out to get the mail and tried to walk really slow so that I could have a few minutes of blue sky. The trouble is this - jobs.

My kids have worked really hard this summer and done really hard jobs. And by kids - I mean boys because Ava hasn't done any jobs this summer. This is definately my fault and a combination of these unfortunate factors:
1) Ava is our third child and I am tired of fighting, singing, tricking the kids into doing jobs.
2) Ava is our first girl - so I have gone easy on her and am paying for it now.
3) Ava was born with a special gift of smiling at her job chart and then disappearing for long enough that I forget that there was something she was supposed to do. (If this sounds familiar it is because she inherited this genetic blessing from her mother.)
So the buck stops here and now. I took Ava gently to her room and told her that she could come out when the first job on her job chart (cleaning her room) was completed. Only I totally underestimated the standoff ability of this 5 year old. She has been in her room the entire day. No lunch, No snacks. Which means I have been here at home the entire day. Send help. please.

I so want my kids to learn to love hard work. I want them to love a challenge and not fear that which is difficult. I want them to feel the sense of accomplishment that can only come after you have done something that you didn't think you could do. I want them to have the mountains and not settle for the valleys because they are afraid of mountain climbing. And so I will stay and wait. I will be patient (hopefully, maybe) and loving (definately) and try, try and try again to teach someone that I love so much something that I think is so important. But if you could send some milk and eggs they would be much appreciated.

Oh Joy!

Toddler + preschooler = fun. Joyful moments are easy pickings for Sophie and Ava. Bubbles, popsicles, balloons, flowers - they all send the girls over the moon. It's like the first miners that got to California - dip in your pan, scoop out some gold. But, of course, as kids grow older balloons lose their luster, popsicles are old news and bubbles don't really do much for my boys these days. For them the easy pickings are gone and they are mining now for the rare but really good golden moments. I think that is why this is one of my favorite pictures of the summer:

Now, to coax a smile like this from Ava - all you need is a 10 cent glow in the dark bracelet. Sophie will beam at you this way if you let her pet your puppy. But Sam is a tougher customer. He's a happy kid but he's seen alot in his pre-teen years and he is harder to impress. The smile of pure joy in this photo is somewhat a rare gem. Sam is smiling because he designed his car all by himself and this year cut it out on the scroll saw by himself. He sanded and painted it on his own. Then (5 min before race time) his dad helped him put on the wheels and axels. But the derby gods were smiling on Sam that night and his car didn't lose. He won the pinewood derby. (what?!) I don't care much about the winning. ( I was actually kind of worried about the other finalist and wanted to make sure he was happy, which he was) But for 45 minutes I soaked in the pure unbridled joy of a 10 year old - which I wouldn't call extremely rare but felt like finding the mother lode nonetheless.

My pleasure

My husband's books are pristine. He leaves a very small carbon footprint on his books - in fact he leaves not a single clue that he was ever there. The spines of his books are barely bent much less broken and you won't find any chocolate crumbs between any of his pages. His books are universally hardbound and stored by category and height. They are beautiful. But they are not mine. My books are messy. I am not afraid to wield a pen when reading and I have been known to attack some very interesting books with said pen. If I am going on a flight and I want a light, cheap book for the plane - I will buy (gasp, shame) paperback. And when I am sleepy at night because I had to stay up and finish the next chapter I have never, ever, ever once in my life gotten up to find a bookmark. I dog ear baby. But don't you think for one second that I love my books any less. Because that is not true. I just believe that the book was made for me, I was not made for the book. I think that my books serve at the pleasure of Heather - and it is my pleasure to leave them open face down on my bed while I check on my girls. It is also my pleasure to read my books in the tub or at the beach or during breakfast. If you think I was put on this Earth to take care of my books - you have got another thing coming. Just kidding. (sort of.) My books take care of me. They are there whenever I want or need them and I never stress about them.

That is why I don't even have a whiff of guilt about not posting regularly this summer. This blog was made to serve me - not the other way around. And it serves me quite well. I love that I have a space where I can write down the ramblings in my heart, note the small miracles of the day or share photos of my growing kids with my far away family. But I have a long list of things that truly need my attention and that I attend to every day and this blog is not on that list. So what does the future hold? Wish that I knew. But I can say this for sure: there is adventure coming up, there are long hard belly laughs, short bitter tears, glorious moments of joy and long stretches of hard work. And I am so glad that I can document them here... join me for the journey. At your pleasure, of course.