Treasured Find

My sister and I have often commented about how little we have written by my mother.  Now that she is gone we wish we had letters, a journal or anything.  I have found some lists and little notes to herself left in some of her books, but they are very impersonal and don't fill the need we are feel.

Just before Christmas I made an exciting discovery.  I was cleaning out the basement, looking for things to get rid of.  I found some spiral notebooks, some were previously used by my children in school.  Teachers have a way of having the children use the first 10 pages or so and never touching the rest.  Even worse we get notebooks home that have been labeled with their name and subject that were never used.  I was thumbing through these trying to decided what was worth keeping and what was trash, when I came across a thick notebook that looked as though it had never been used at all.  I opened the first page and was surprised to find a single journal entry written by my mother.  She spoke of how she planned to start writing regularly. It was only one page.  That page is precious to me especially the lines that told of her hopes for her children and future grandchildren.  I copied it and gave a copy to my Father, Brother and Sister.  It made my sister wish for more.  I agree with her, but I am so very thankful for that single page.

Getting the News Out

Ok I was wrong.  The whole world didn't know about Audrey.  This week I ran into  quite a few people who had not heard and some of them were hurt to think that it happened a month ago.  Now  I am working on making sure people know. Electronic communication has not quite reached every corner of the globe.  Even stranger, after I started telling people, other people started coming to me and offering their congratulations.  The grape vine is still alive and growing.

We saw the break down in communication with Dick Adair's passing away this last week.  Those at church heard the announcement, but it didn't spread as far and as wide as people who cared.  We saw the Carlson's at the Temple Wednesday evening and they didn't know about either event. Dick Adair was 91 years old.  His family knew he wasn't long for this earth, but none of the rest of us did.  I sat in church and cried. He and his wife have been so kind to us.  She asked Tyler to lead the music for the funeral.  Other than his family, most of those in attendance were elderly.  I started thinking how I want to have young friends, no matter how old I get.  What will the technology be like then?  Is the new technology help or hurting the generation gaps?  I think we will always benefit the most from face to face interaction.

Audrey's news

Audrey is engaged to Richard Farnsworth. The whole world knew almost instantly from Face Book.  Still I think I will tell the story not just post the news. The two started dating last July. Roy saw Richard in the Temple when we were there with Sarah for the first time.  He suggested, maybe that is too mild a word.  He requested that Richard take Audrey out on a date.  Richard was surprised, but since he had considered asking her out anyway he called her before the week was out.  At first it was one date a week,  then two and soon they were spending anytime they could together. He lives in Golden, where he attends the School of Mines, so getting across town can be some work for him.  Especially since he didn't have a car until October.

When he invited Audrey to accompany his family to General Conference we knew things were getting serious. It is interesting that Audrey has never dated much and just as things with Richard were progressing she got a call from another man asking for a date. She had a bit of a personal dilemma.  She wanted to go out with him, but she didn't want to mess things up with Richard.  She and Richard had not talked about being exclusive so she wasn't sure where she stood.  All the men in our house agreed that if she was invited to go to Utah; Richard considered her his girlfriend. We talked and she decided that Richard was to important to risk.  Her confirmation came later that week when they made it official that they were boyfriend and girlfriend.

The engagement came the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. He came to talk to us  and ask our blessing the week before.  Keeping a secret has never been harder. He had some cute romantic plans involving a jigsaw puzzle that didn't work out. The ring was finished before the puzzle and he couldn't bear to wait any longer.  Audrey has never been happier. As my father says "They are a match made is heaven!"

They are planning on getting married March 9th.  At first the plan was for May, which would fit into my life easier, but when do these things ever fit my plans? We had dessert with his family last night and started discussing somethings-my head just isn't in it right now. This is finals week.  I may sound a bit like Scarlett O'Hara, but I'll think about it later.

Tyler's Mission Call

This last week was full of excitement. We celebrated Neal's 17th birthday on Wednesday. The very next day Tyler received his mission call.  It came while he was at work so we called my Dad and Tyler's best friend Tyler so they could be here when he got home and share in the moment. Roy had to use the moment to pull a prank, of course.  I'm not going to talk about that here. You can go to Tyler's Face book for a full description and some video. I think most of the world found out about it from Face book.  I tried to call my sister with the news, but it had already reached her.

Tyler will be going to Kentucky.  He reports to the Mission Training Center on January 11th.  He was afraid that will all the delays getting his paperwork finished it would push back his report date.  It didn't.  We now have a little over two months to get him ready.  Physically ready that is.  He's been preparing spiritually and mentally his whole life.  Every night I see him reading his scriptures.  It doesn't matter if it is late because he's been out with friends.  I now am trying  to  follow his example and take the time to realign myself with things that matter before I go to sleep on a regular basis, not haphazardly, as I have done in the past. He talks to his friends and acquaintances about the Church.  It because of this his friend Savion was baptised. He is so excited about going that you can't be around him long without catching that excitement.

It will be many years before I can go serve a mission so I am finding ways to do my part now. I just checked Mormon.org.  My profile is up.  It is fun to see.  We were just talking about the website yesterday at church.  The TV ads make it look cool to be Mormon.  Tyler told me about talking to Mr. Richard about it.  He thinks it's great.  When he moved here from Nebraska he had never met a Mormon before. When he found out that there were five in his choir class he called his mom and told her he was afraid they would kill him.  Now he goes the High School's Seminary class to recruit Mormon kids to join his classes and he sent his children to me for daycare. He feels that we are misunderstood and the publicity will help change that.

Planning

Last week the kids had Monday off of school.  I would like to say it was for Columbus Day, but it wasn't.  It was a teacher work day for the end of the grading period. The kids were excited and so was I. I had worked ahead in my classes to leave the day as free as possible to spend time together.  I had planned a trip to the Doctor for Emma and 3 of the boys who needed shots, but that was all. All other plans were supposed to be for fun.  Then we woke up that morning.

Several years ago Blake got this great idea to try and jump off the stage at church and while in the air to twist his body and throw a basket ball up and make the perfect basket. The thought was intriguing and the trick would have been spectacular. Not every plan works the way we think it will.  This one didn't.  He fell and broke one of his front teeth. Unfortunately it was an adult tooth.  He has forever lost the privilege of biting into a whole apple. It was repaired and except for the warning not to bite with it, he was as good as new. Now 3 years later he woke up and the filling had fallen off the tooth. We were not sure how exactly that happened; it doesn't matter the tooth had to be fixed, that day.

Now my plans for the day were rewritten. Blake need to go to the dentist. I was blessed that the dentist had an opening at noon which gave me time to get the kids to the Doctor and back. It was a new dentist, of course, so I had a pile of paper work to fill out at the first visit to asses the damage.  We had to come back at 2:00 for the "real" visit. Blake looks wonderful, even better than before. If there is one lesson I have learned while raising this gang of children, it is the importance of being flexible.  I never know what is coming next.

I'm Back

The summer flew by! I stopped blogging because I was dealing with some medical issues I wasn't willing to tell the world about. Just as that was ending, and I mean only hours after getting home from the hospital, my daughter Sarah called to announce her engagement. There I was needing some rest and recovery and facing planning a wedding.  I hate to admit it, but I was too exhausted physically and emotionally to be excited.  It was a little slow in coming.

At first they were going to get married in December which would have allowed plenty of time to plan, but they were also considering the end of August.  For several very practical and smart reasons August ruled and I had 6 weeks to pull together a wedding.  During that time we had a trip to Utah to make; where we attended a Thomas family reunion and were able to meet Jace and his family.  It was a busy and exhausting time.  Different children headed off to camps and activities all while I was attending classes, doing homework and trying to get my strength and stamina back.  With the help of the Lord and some friends it all worked.

The wedding was August 12th.  One week after my finals.  We might have tried to push it back week or two, but the temple closed the 13th for renovations and she wanted to be married here, not in Utah.  As it was everything went smoothly and it was an absolutely beautiful day. They went on a quick honey moon to Glenwood Springs and then went home to Provo.  Roy and I took the two littlest children and went to their reception in Utah on the 22nd.  I had to miss the first day of my classes this semester, that was OK. The happy couple is keeping busy working, going to school and living the life of poor college students.  What could be more romantic?

I could write pages on the happenings of this summer and I may come back in the future. For now, I want to record my commitment to begin writing again.  This semester I am taking three classes - 10 units - I don't think I have ever been so busy. I didn't think there was anyway I could keep up with a blog, so it has fallen by the wayside.  Sundays are going to be the key.  I am going to try and write at least a few minutes on Sundays.  I don't do school work, or any major housework. I think I can find time here. It is an activity absolutely in keeping with the spirit of the sabbath.

Personal Histories

Dad just dropped by.  He has started to write his life story and didn't know how much detail to go into. He was asking the kids what they wanted to read about in his history.  I'm not sure they care.  To kids last week is ancient history. 

When I was in college I lived with  my grandfather Moulton for a year.  He told me some of his life stories.  I listened and most of them were interesting, but I could have asked for more.  I didn't.  Now,  I wish I had the opportunity to ask hundreds of questions.  I have recorded much of what I remember, but so much is lost forever. 

My other grandfather used to call me almost daily to talk when I was a new wife and mother.  We lived close enough that the calls were local (which meant free).  This was long before unlimited minutes. We could talk as long as I had time to listen.  I am embarrassed to admit it, but some days I wouldn't answer the phone to avoid his calls.  I had trouble with some of his racist ideas and talk of conspiracies.  He also told me stories from his past.  I still need to write those down.  They were more trivial and he repeated them so many times that I was certain I would never forget.  He talked about day to day life.  Many of his stories revolved around growing up. Once again, the chance to ask questions is gone.  I was so busy changing diapers and running a home that I didn't think that there would come a day that he would be gone.

I am glad that Dad is writing his history. I wish my grandfathers had taken the time to write as well as tell me about their lives.  It's a heavy burden to be the one responsible for keeping their stories.  I will be grateful to hear about my Dad's life and also my Mom's life through my Dad. She never seemed to tell us any stories from her life.  I think to her the past was best forgotten.  She seemed insecure with her capabilities and embarrassed by her mistakes.  She wasn't proud of her family growing up.  Even her handwriting bothered her.   By the time we realized that we were losing her, it was too late, her memories had become confused. More than anyone I feel the loss of her stories.

For me, I hope that my patchy journals will be left to tell my posterity who I was.  Today, I hope that this blog can tell my family who I am and in the future it will tell the stories they want to read.

A Happy Heart

Yesterday I went to Relief Society Meeting.  Faye Flame was speaking about staying spiritually healthy.  We were talking about how this effects our lives especially moment to moment.  I felt prompted to share a small moment that happened yesterday.  I was sewing new valances for the living room and I was in a hurry to finish before the children came home from school.  In my haste, I knocked over the tin full of pins.  I looked at the mess on the floor and decided it was an opportunity.  I called out, "Hey, John grab a magnet and come here!"  He came and I showed him how to pick up the pins with it.  He was excited to help and said "Mom, this is a really great idea!"  The rest of the project was one of those great bonding times.  John snipped threads and took pins out of my sewing. When I had nothing else he could do I gave him a wash cloth, a needle and thread so he could sew to his heart's content.  This morning he noticed a hole in the knee of his jeans.  As soon as Sesame Street is over he wants to sew them.  I'll let him, but I don't think he will be wearing them in public.

The peace that comes with  a more spiritual outlook can change everything.  I think back to how I  grew weary of dirty diapers when I was new mom.  After 24 years of dirty diapers they don't seem like such a big deal any more. It is the change in thinking from,"Not another one, I hate this!" to "Let's get you cleaned up so you can be more comfortable." I hope I am teaching my children a better attitude about the little unpleasant things in life. It seems as though most of those revolve around cleaning something.

Lydia thinks cleaning up is great but she's only 18 months old. By the time she gets really good at it, it will probably loose some of it's appeal.  I kept her happy through Tyler's graduation ceremony by giving her baby wipes to clean the seats and floor.  Helping with the dishes and laundry are also favorite pastimes.

Those are never ending chores for me.  I don't think it is possible to get every dirty dish in the house washed, or every piece of laundry done.  I am dealing with too many people.  I used  to hate those chores as well. Having a dishwasher, a large capacity washing machine and efficient dryer have helped my attitude, but even with those I could choose to think of them as the ball and chain in my life.  Enlisting the children's help lessens the load, but there are times that they don't have the time to pitch in. A deep breath, roll up my sleeves and plunge in.  You can't finish until you've begun.  Hey, I've done harder things than this before.  Why be miserable?  There is no way I can help smiling through the chores while watching a toddler giggle every time she drops a shirt in the washer or seeing a preschooler burrow into a pile socks.  It's the people that make life joyful.

Tears

As a child I had been taught not to cry.  As an adult I seldom cried. Then my mother passed away 7 months ago and I felt as though part of my personality changed dramatically.  I was often crying. Not just about my mother, but over anything touching, or sad.  I kept wondering if this was something permanent or temporary.  If it was temporary how long would it last, six months, one year? Is this just part of the grieving process?  Recently, I felt as though this phase of my life was ending and I was returning to who I was.  I was still a little more sensitive which was probably good, but my reactions were not as dramatic and tearful as they were a few months ago.  Yesterday changed everything.

Bill's funeral was yesterday.  I went alone.  Roy couldn't get off time from his new job and the children didn't feel as though they could miss school.  Audrey was off work but she had a paper to write so she stayed home with the little ones.  I thought that would be fine I often go places alone and there would be plenty of friends I could sit with.  I wasn't prepared for what I experienced.

The first person I saw when I walked into the building was Kathy Jones.  I hadn't seen her since my mother died.  She helped by sister and I dress my mother for her burial.  That started the thoughts and emotions flowing.  I then walked into the room for the viewing.  Teri (one of Bill's daughters) grabbed me into a big bear hug and sobbed.  Then came her daughter Sarah, red eyed and tearful needing a hug as well.  I hugged Chris the daughter who lives across the street and then Sadie.  I looked around the room full of his family.  People I have known and loved for 13 years.  I saw a son of one of Bill's sons who is in the Army and is home from Iraq temporarily.  He used to sleep over with my son.  Another grandson went to school with my son.  Jordan was there with his younger siblings and his dad and mom.  She was in high school when we moved in.  I watched him for a day shortly after he was born.  Now he is friends with one of my younger sons.  Other children and grandchildren were there who would come over to play and we would see at weddings and graduations.  We have a long close relationship with this family.  I would miss Bill, but I ached for their loss.  They were feeling so much pain.

I didn't lose it until I walked out into the foyer and say Alice there.  She works for the funeral home and was there for everything when my Mom died.  I stared to sob not just for Bill and his family but for me and my family.  For my little children who will never remember their grandma.  For my children in the middle who don't remember her the way she was before the dementia. For all of us who miss her and all of us who will miss him. I grabbed the tissues and thought, maybe this change in me is temporary and permanent.  On a daily basis I will cry less and little things will effect me less, like my old self, but my heart is forever changed to be more sensitive.  I suppose only time will tell.

Bad News

I've talked about my neighbors the Hands and their daughter and son-in-law, the Orsers, who also live on the street.  Today, Chris Orser came over with surprising news.  Her father, Bill Hand died last night in his sleep.  He was visiting his son in Las Vegas.  His daughters had been taking shifts staying with Sadie while he was gone.  We knew his health had declined some in the last few months but everyone expected Sadie would go first.  She has congestive heart failure as well as the dementia and she has just seemed so much slower and less healthy then Bill.

Their granddaughter called me in tears this afternoon.  She lives in Utah with her new husband.  She is very like a daughter to us.  Death has never touched someone she loves before.  I am glad she has her husband to lean on right now.  She is such a sensitive soul.  Last summer she was heart broken dealing with being separated from her fiance for 3 months.  It will be nice to see her soon I just wish it was for a happier reason.

My own children have cried as well.  The Hands have been our neighbors for 13 years.  Many of them don't remember life before them.  Bill has helped them make bird houses, pinewood derby cars and other wooden creations.  He has brought over vegetables from his garden and helped us prune trees and remove bushes.  We have seen him everyday out walking with his dog and after she died walking with his wife.  He played with the children and greeted us all at church on Sundays.  He seemed rough at first but he was one of the hardest working selfless people you could ever meet and neighbors were extended family to him.

First my mother and now Bill.  The last six months have made the world a lonelier place.

Easter Week

I have been blogging later and later in the week.  It's good the semester is almost over or I might start running into the next week.  I thought this week would be easier than the last but I forgot how draining it is when someone has surgery.  Roy had a deviated septum repair and two nasal polyps removed this week.  That took my whole day Thursday and Friday.  I had saved my peer reviews to do while he was in the operating room and that was good to have something to concentrate on.  Otherwise, I might have worried the whole time.  I think that has been one of the positive side effects of me going to school.  My life is not entirely wrapped up in my family so I have something else to concentrate on.  School kept me from obsessing when my Mother was sick and dieing too. I had other things to focus on.

It's Easter Saturday.  The kids are outside running off their sugar high.  We do baskets of goodies and our egg hunt today to help us focus on the importance of Easter on Sunday.  Last night we dyed eggs at 9:00pm.  That was too late for me to be genuinely patient with small children but we were up against a deadline and all my big people were out of the house.  Ryan and Audrey were at a party and Tyler, Neal and Melissa were at another party. Finally, Roy was recuperating in bed, but that doesn't change much he has never participated in egg dying.  Blake (age 12) was the oldest at home and little Lydia (1 yr) was trying to crack them all.  I think it has been 12 years since there have only been 6 kids home coloring eggs.  Even so we all 6 colors going constantly.

I am speaking in church tomorrow.  I wasn't sure I would have time to properly prepare but Roy kind of accepted for me.  I also have a lesson to prepare, a house to clean, shopping to do and a meal to plan.  The family is going to a baptism this afternoon and Melissa wants her skirt taken in before her first dance tonight.  I think I could handle it all if I wasn't trying to take care of Roy. 

The percocet makes Roy loopy and helpless. Still I will take that over what almost happened.  His surgery went very well.  The Doctor called it "text book".  They waited to come and get me until he was in his room so I had several hours to do school work. After had eaten they gave him some vicodin for the pain.  Within a few minutes he started coughing and saying that his throat hurt.  Then he complained that it felt like it was closing up.  Before long we had 3 nurses in the room trying to figure out what was going on.  The only thing that helped a little was feeding him ice chips.  After a call to the Doctor and they decide it was a reaction to the medication so he was given benadryl.  With in 10 minutes he was better.  He has taken vicodin before but now he appears to be allergic to it.  The nurse didn't want to leave the room after that until I reassured her that I would call at the first sign of more trouble.  As always, I handled it fine at the time but when I got home that night, I broke down.  He came home to the couch Friday and will probably be there for a few days.

Lots to do and not much time gotta run!

It's Raining

They say when it rains it pours. No kidding. This week it's rained ear infections, throwing up, coughing, talent show, 2nd grade concert, whining  water pipes, big graphic design project, 2 tests and a 10 page essay.  That's the big stuff everything else seems minor.

It is a huge relief to have the paper written.  I have researched, written and talked about the topic so much that I wasn't sure what to write.  I didn't want to rewrite everything else I'd already done and put it all together. But I wasn't sure what to do. I'd always hated doing outlines but was an outline that saved me.  As I started to write the paper (I started 3 times) I felt like I was wandering all over the place.  Trying to tie one idea to another was difficult.  I could have gone on and on with personal feelings and experiences but this was a research essay.  Once I started jotting down ideas and then putting those ideas in order everything fell into place.  I had to remind myself that just because I had researched it I didn't need to put it in the paper.  It's like the lessons I teach on Sunday. I always have prepared way more than what I teach.  I am so exhausted from the effort that I am not sure it is a really good paper but I will have next week to review it and hopefully I will receive helpful advise from the peer review board.  There is still time for excellence if I haven't reached it yet.

I don't know how I would have done this without Roy's support.  He has been home this week and it has saved my life.  Even better, he has a new appreciation for what I do.

 Music is drifting up the stairs. The kids are rehearsing I'd better go coach them.

Decisions

Since my last blog a major decision has been made. We are staying.  Friday afternoon just as Roy was finishing a prayer about whether or not to accept the job offer in Sacramento the phone rang.  It was Farmer's Insurance offering him a job here as a claims manager.  We spent the rest of the day discussing the pros and cons of the two jobs.  This job will not pay as much as the one in California  but with the cost of living difference taken into account there won't be much of a difference.  We will need to pinch our pennies but if Roy had not resigned our budget would be the same.

The job could be considered a step down, or a lateral move which is a little disappointing but the upside is he is getting out of sales.  He is very good at sales and there is more money there but, he has never enjoyed it.  He thought he had been away from claims for too long to go back but, since several people he had worked with before vouched for him they not only considered him but decided to hire him and retrain him.  The hours will be much better for family.  He won't have the flexibility to set his own hours but he will be working only 45 hours a week instead of the 60 he has been working the last few years.

 From my side, I will have to get creative about child care for the last few weeks of school. It is such a relief not to worry about relocating.  I spent the whole day Tuesday, helping Roy clean out his office and bringing home anything I want to keep. After that I am not sure how I would have handled the strain of juggling my life, having him gone and trying to move.

When we were considering moving I started cleaning out and Roy rented a dumpster.  It was delivered yesterday and we filled it by dinnertime. How crazy is that?  Fourteen people and thirteen years can collect a lot of trash!  We have also made 4 trips to Good Will.  I feel lighter and freer having all of that gone.  There is still more to go through but the big decisions have been made and I am feeling good.

Moving

At the beginning of the month Roy (my husband) resigned from his job.  He has been trying to decide what to do now. Does he start his own agency, get a new job or try something new?  I have been very at peace about all of this until this week.  Monday he flew out to Sacramento for an interview with Nationwide.  The recruiter called and said he was the number one candidate, then they E-mailed him and asked for information so they can run a background check.  According to the recruiter they never do that unless they are about to make an offer.  He wants this job but do we want to move.

I spent my growing up years moving around the planet.  Since being married we have moved several times but now we have been here for 13 years.  To our children this is home.  For me moving would be full of complications.  I have children in every level or schooling up into college.  I am in college. Do the college kids come with us?  Do I have to drop out and wait until we are residents again?  How long will that take one year, two years?

We were looking at homes on the Internet.  We will have to have a mortgage again.  We have been mortgage free for a year. Will the salary of this new job cover the added expense?  It is hard to know were to look, we are completely unfamiliar with the area.  Roy's brother-in-law made some suggestions but our tastes don't line up exactly. We would prefer a little older neighborhood with mature trees and a lack of vaulted ceilings. He likes new homes. There are no basements in California so the number of rooms is fixed. We can't plan to add a room later. I have no idea what the schools are like and if that should play a part in our housing choices.

I thought my life was already full with the family, church and school. Now, I have house to try and get ready to sell.  It is spring break and we are trying to clean and clean out.  In two days I finished one bedroom. At this rate it will take 8 more days to finish the bedrooms and perhaps another 14 to finish the house, wait I didn't count the back yard or the garage. Then there is painting and repairs to be done. I am so overwhelmed.  Instinctually, I want to say "I can't" but I keep arguing with myself and saying "I must!" Jobs at Roy's level and pay are not plentiful.

I feel like we are abandoning my Dad.  Mom died just 6 months ago.  They moved here over 20 years ago. Dad says he is deeply rooted in the community and wouldn't consider moving with us because we might move again.  He won't move near my brother, they don't get along very well.  Utah doesn't appeal to him and that is where my sister lives.  I don't want him to be alone and I would miss him dearly. 

I have never cried over the possibility of moving.  Moving often was a fact of life when I was young. No tears allowed.  As an adult moving had always been a new adventure but not so much this time.  I've been trying to ignore my feelings and trying to focus on the work.  I don't want the kids to think this is something to get upset about and here I am upset.  I want to blame my being emotional on Mom's passing but it's more.  I have friends here.  I feel I have a place in the community.  I never worried about belonging when we were moving all those years ago because we would be gone again soon.  Family was the only constant in my life.  I went to a church meeting last week and looked at faces I have known for twenty years.  Some of my neighbors have been here before we moved into the house 13 years ago.  I walk into the school and I am greeted like someone who works there. Everyone knows me and my kids.  They look forward to the next one to come to their school.  I have been with the women in my tap class for over a year now.  It feels like weakness to admit it but I like belonging. It's wonderful to be known and respected for who you are.  If we leave I won't feel this connected for a long time, if ever. Roy just walked in I think we are going to talk about all this.

Writing Poetry

This English class has gotten me thinking about writing.  In recent years it has become a practical thing.  I write a note or a list. A few years ago I was writing poetry.  It started one day while I was doing laundry. I was looking at the wrinkly laundry. Wrinkly, finkly...I thought, it sounded much like a nursery rhyme. I ran upstairs and sat down and wrote a poem about a lion.  After that I started using daily incidents in the life of my family as inspiration and began to write from a child's perspective. This evolved into recording stories from my parents and grandparents childhood in the form of poems.  I now have a collection of 70 children's poems.

The other night for Family Home Evening we decide to have a poetry reading night.  As we were collecting books to choose our poems from I found my collection of poems. I had printed them out and put them together in a three ring binder.  As a thumbed through the pages I remembered the excitement and sense of accomplishment.  Why have I stopped writing?  Am I just too busy? 

I found one poem with an interesting story behind it.  My neighbor Chris had asked me to write a poem for an upcoming Relief Society meeting.  She wanted something to give to the women to take home that reflected our feelings as women.  I spent time and effort trying to write something that would strike a cord with these women.  That evening as each woman received and read the poem I received warm and positive feedback.  One year later I was at my mother's house and I picked up a decorative piece of paper with a poem on it.  I almost dropped the paper when I recognized the poem as my own.  Someone in her ward had distributed my poem.  My name was there under the title.  I suspect it was Penny ( a friend of Chris's) who wanted to use the poem the same way we had.  Today I decided to polish up this poem and submit it to the Ensign Magazine. I have no idea if it will be publish or not but it makes me feel good to take be taking the things I have written seriously.

Kindergarten

The research project I am doing for English class is getting me down.  At first I thought kindergarten had gone to full day because working parents didn't like messing with half-day and of course it would save them money on childcare.  Then I started to see all the politicians supporting it as a way of showing their support for education.  I remember Obama quoting research that showed that children lost what ever edge they had gained from preschool by third grade and he used that to say that "we need to do a better job at early childhood education". I heard that and thought that preschool just isn't that effective and we don't need to worry about it so much. The more research I have done the more discouraged I have become.     Teachers and schools like full-day kindergarten because is keeps them in business and it makes it easier for the teachers to cover all the curriculum they are required to teach.  It costs the tax payers money and few people are concerned that with budget cuts where that money is coming from. I've seen this happen is the district just this last year.  The teachers at the middle school and high school level were told that they needed to pick up an extra class to save the district money.  They were not happy about this and tried everything to stop it.  The decision was made and everyone picked up another class.  It may have saved some money overall when you look at subjects like math and English, but it did not work the way the school board intended it to.  The Food for Today teacher added a more advance cooking class which she is going to take to competitions. The band teacher added another music class. And the choir teacher added an advanced performing arts class which puts on an evening performance every quarter. The district was worried about money but, not the schools. Schools are not concerned about cost of their programs to the district unless someone asks them to justify their choices.   The learning that goes on in a full-day class room is not double the instruction time. Such young children can not handle a day sitting at a desk with books and work sheets. Developmentally they are not ready, so kindergarten has changed to adapt.  Rather than be the transition to first grade as in the past it looks more like a longer preschool day.  In fact it looks very much like the kinds of activities I supply for my children at home.   Even parents who stay at home with their children are feeling the need to put their children in school earlier and earlier thinking it will help get them further ahead.  The research just doesn't support this idea. As soon as first grade and no later than 3rd grade any gains the children make are gone.  This research had been around for years yet the trend continues to grow.  Society seems so interested in academics without any proof of any benefit in the course they are pursuing. What about the rest of the child's development. Even the most caring teacher is only invested in their students for one year. I have had enough dealings with school boards to know that they are more interested in being elected and looking good than they are in the individual children.  They don't mind experimenting with a new curriculum because if it succeeds they will be see as daring cutting edge educators and if it fails they can go back to the tried and proven effective methods.  It doesn't matter to them but it does matter to the children they experimented on and who ended up with second best education. Why isn't anyone making decisions based on valid research? Why hasn't anyone looked to see if there are any detrimental effects of children from so much school? Is anyone worried about what kind of children we are turning out? I was taught in Jr. high school social studies that the family was the basic unit of society.  Why do politicians and educators think they can do a better job of raising children than the parents? There are dysfunctional families out there but there are plenty who are really trying. The Department of Education has a plan to implement full-day preschool for 3 year olds, full-day preschool for 4 year olds and mandatory full-day kindergarten.  Some of us would like a choice in the matter that doesn't involve home schooling. There is no way government can replace caring parents.

My Neighbor

I am sitting here talking with my neighbor from across the street. Her son-in-law who lives two doors down asked me to give her a ride to a church activity tonight. Her name is Sadie and she has dementia.She came over a half hour early.  He told her when to come over but she becomes confused easily and can't remember anythng for more than a few minutes. What should I do send her home?  If I do I will have to over to get her later and she will have forgotten why I had come. Just now I have repeate myself 5 times. She keeps forgetting why she is here.

 My mother had dementia but it was a different type. Her memory of events was not really effected but she forgot how to do things and became unable to make decisions or plans. She became unable to care for herself.  In some ways it was like my mother had become a child again and I became one of her caregivers.

 Bill is Sadie's husband. He takes care of her and he gets frustrated with her. They have been our neighbors for 13 years. I am very close to thier granddaughter, Sarah. She has spent many hours at my house over the years.  When she was home, last summer, she was so frustrated with her grandmother that she started to withdraw and avoid her as much as possible.  It was sad to watch. I have never had trouble being patient with the elderly no matter what the trouble may be.  It isn't their fault. I wonder why it is hard for some people and easy for others.

English Comp.

This class is consuming my life.  If you ask my husband I am putting too much time into it. He is probably right.  I feel insecure taking the class on-line. I like the convenience but I am never quite certain I understand the instructions and am doing the work correctly.  I also have no idea how I am doing compared with the rest of the class. So, far my grades are good but I have only received grades on small assignments.  I have three large assignments turned in but no grade so far.  Every one of these alone are larger than all the small grades put together. I keep checking everyday and I know that doesn't change what has already been done but to see the grade would let me know where I stand.  I'm turning into a worry wart. Passing the class is really not my concern. I really want an "A".

My 3-D class is a real roller coaster ride right now.  I presented my most recent project this week and I feel I did well.  My designs were sound and well executed.  I start feeling nervous when I see the work done by "kids" in the class.  They all know so much more about these programs than I do.  The only thing that made me feel better was when the instructor admitted that he didn't know as much as some of the students. He had been asking how the students had done some things and I thought it was so we could learn how.  After class while talking to him I understood that he was asking for himself as well. I started looking at tutorial last night.  Each was 10-15 minutes. It will be a long process trying to learn this stuff.

Blessings

It is interesting that my blogs have all had themes.  It is more like story telling than the way I have journaled before. I am the most fun telling my stories of triumphs. Life's little blessing. Here are a list of recent blessings.

Ryan was in a car accident.  He wasn't paying attention and ran a red light. It was all his fault and his car was totaled.  Blessing? Yes! He will go to court next week and pay and ticket and our insurance will go up (once again) but he walked away without a scratch.  My husband went to the accident immediately (he was home and able to get there fast- another blessing). He has been in insurance for years and has worked in claims. Having seen many accidents and he was amazed, our son could have easily died in an accident that severe.

Lydia is 16 months old and not talking. Many people have told me not to worry and then proceed to tell some story about a child who remained silent until the age of 2 or 3 and then began to speak in sentences. I don't doubt their stories (well, not much) but my experiences with my own children have been very different. Five of my children have needed speech therapy. Three began as preschoolers and one was so severe that she went 3 times a week until she started first grade and still continued in school until she was 8 years old. Every sound for her was a struggle.  I spent hours every week taking her to appointments and working with her on a daily basis.  Things would have been even more difficult if we had not gotten her help at a young age.  I remember her first speaking part in a school play.  I sat in the back of the gym with tears streaming down my face because my child was on stage speaking and everyone in the room could understand her (blessing).  So, when one of my children aren't talking I worry.

 Last week I decided to try and move her development along on my own.  I remembered that the first thing the therapist did with Audrey was teach her the word "bubble" by blowing soap bubbles with her and only blowing more when she said the word. Her two brothers just older joined us in the bubble fun and showed her how to get mom to blow more by saying, "bubble". It worked!  Now, all I have to do is hold up the bottle and she will say it. Huge blessing!

The next approach I decided to take was to try and teach her some sign language.  I taught my 5-year old sign as an infant and at 6 months he could ask for milk. He began speaking younger than any of the rest and speaks very clearly and well. When my next son was slow to talk I decided to try the sign language with him. This child started signing and speaking simultaneously.  He is still a little difficult to understand but no so much so that I am concerned. I tried to show her the Baby Einstein DVDs but she wasn't interested. Off to the library I went to look for the Signing Time DVDs and to see if that would spark her interest. These videos use music and she loves music. The next morning after watching the video she brought me her cup. I asked her if she wanted something to drink. She signed "more, drink". Then at her brother's birthday party she pointed to the cake and signed "eat". She was asking for a piece. It isn't speech but it is an attempt at communication. Once again a blessing!

I went to a meeting to discuss my 8 year old son's progress with speech therapy at school.  He has improved greatly and I am glad but the schools are eager to push children out of the program as fast as possible and I think he still needed a little more help. I wasn't sure how I was going to keep them working with him since they had pretty much stopped doing anything  months ago.  This is when a good teacher came to the rescue. She arrived at the meeting with a list of problems she had seen and could show how this was affecting his school work.  They have agreed to keep him on and work with him 15 minutes a week. Blessing! Blessing! Blessing!

2-Dimensional Design

I have to begin with a confession. 25 years ago I took a 2-dimensional design class and I never turned in the final project. Planning for my up coming marriage were on the for front of my life and I blew it off. This class is an absolute necessity for any kind of a degree in art so here I am taking it once again but now instead of pulling out my paint brushes and drawing pencils I walked into a computer lab for my class. The idea of a completely digital class was terrifying to me. How could I ever keep up with all the kids who knew computers and the programs we would be using so much better than I did?  And how would I ever remember everything the teacher was showing us how to do?

This week, I am feeling really good about my art class. I remember some of the basic principles of design and I still have a good eye for it. With the help of some younger class mates, I am learning how to get the programs to do what I want them to and it is very exciting to go to class. I got my second grade in that class today and it was 100%. It sounds more thrilling that it is. He grades the projects on a 1-4 point scale so the only A you can get is a 4 or a 100%. I was thrilled however because now I feel like I can really be successful in this class. The second thing I am finding is that I am learning what the teacher likes and dislikes and that is the secret to the subjective part of the art grade.

 Art is not like math there can be many right answers and many wrong answers and half of the equation is in the instructor's opinion. I have met several very talented people who have dropped out of art programs because they had trouble dealing with other people's opinions. Either they couldn't handle the criticisms to their work because it felt like a personal attack or they had difficulty trying to figure out what the professor wanted and then giving it to him. You have to be willing to learn something new and different to be able to improve. You also have to understand that sometime you will not do well and that's O.K. and a critique of your work is not a critique of you as a person. Finally you don't have to love everything you produce it's alright to hate it to get the you just have to be willing to learn and grow. In whatever field an artist goes into they have to please someone or they will not make any money. There is always a boss, whether it is a client commissioning a graphic design piece, or a consumer buying a framed piece to put over the mantel.

Jordyn

Last week my kids were sick so the little girl I provide daycare for wasn't able to come. My little ones and I missed her. I have been watching her since she was 1 year old. Last week she had her 6th birthday. This will be my last year for her to come; she starts 1st grade and full time school in the fall. I will miss her just like I miss her older brother who stopped coming several years ago.

I used to do daycare as a way of earning needed extra money but as my family grew, life became more hectic and the need for that money diminished, I quit and I didn't regret it for one moment. I was happy to spend my undivided time on my own children. Then one day I got a call from the wife of the choir director at my kids' high school. Her husband had been trying to watch their two youngest at school while she went to work and it wasn't a good situation. She had no idea where to take the kids. He told her "Call Mrs. Thomas, I know her kids and I trust her." I had to think about it. Did I want to? I liked the family. I knew we had shared values so I wouldn't be dealing with children who were being raised very differently than my own that was very important. A little extra money never hurt. They would only be here a few mornings a week, it could work. For me, the most compelling reasons were that I appreciated what Mr. Richard had been doing for my children and if I were in their situation I would want my children to be with someone I trusted to care for them well.

I remember rocking this little girl to sleep and wiping her nose. She has told me her stories and asked me endless questions. We read books, paint pictures and sometimes we tap dance. I have had two more of my own babies since she has come to our home. In some ways she feels more like a niece or some other member of my extended family growing up with my own children.

Jordyn has been a blessing for our family. I feel a little guilty about taking money from her parents. She plays so well with the kids that I can actually get some work done. I never would have imagined that anyone could turn little boys wielding toy light sabers into playing house. She gets them all dressed up in their "Jedi outfits", they go out and fight the robots and then she calls them "home" to eat lunch. Whatever they play, she keeps them too busy to even think about begging me to watch television. What could be better than that? Sometimes the best blessing show up on your doorstep when you didn't even know you needed them.

Tap Dancing

Several years ago I was Goodwill Shopping and I spotted a pair of tap shoes. They looked about the right size so I tried them on. They fit! I bought them thinking that one day I would take a class. It was a more of a goal than a thought, I just had to figure out how to find the time and the money to do it.

 I had learned a little tap in High School more than 25 years ago. I hated PE class but it was mandatory. After suffering through my Sophomore and the beginning of my Junior year in PE we moved to Arizona. All of a sudden there was a choice to take Dance instead. That sounded so much better and it was. We learned one style of dance each quarter: Jazz, Tap, Ballet and Modern. I was actually good at dance. The tap section only lasted one quarter and we didn't even use tap shoes so it was more like soft shoe but I wanted to learn more. So here I was, years later, with a pair of shoes and a desire.

I started looking for classes and comparing prices. The Parks and Rec. Dance program was the most affordable and convenient but they met on Monday night which was an impossibility for me. Soon after I became pregnant and that didn't seem a good time to begin. After the baby was born I started looking again. This time my husband was so very supportive that he signed me up and I was ready to begin.

 Life and goals seldom play out just as we expect and sure enough something happened. I went ice skating with the girls from church and fell and broke my arm. The first thing I asked my Doctor was if I could dance and the answer was "NO". I had to drop the class before I had even begun and start going to physical therapy instead. We have all heard stories about physical therapy, stories about how the therapists are mean and the exercises hurt but what I experienced was very different. I saw people come in moaning and complaining. People who had to be pushed to work and therapist who were very kind but had work to do. I wanted to get better-fast. It didn't matter if it was uncomfortable, after all I'd been through real pain. I could take it. If the therapist gave me 5 minutes on the arm bike I asked if I could do more. I went home and exercised everyday and I made wonderful progress in 4 weeks I had almost full use of my arm back and 2 weeks later I got the OK to start dance class.

This week is the one year anniversary of my starting tap class. When I began last year I didn't realize that I had come into a class that had started 6 months before. They had been working together on steps and choreography and here I was trying to catch up. The instructor, Minda, was wonderful. She was encouraging and helpful and would challenge each of us at our own level. I had heard about muscle memory before but I had never really experience it. Everything I had learned years ago was locked up in my body somewhere and it took very little for it all to come pouring out. My challenge was to learn the choreography for the dance recital in June. I practice every chance I got and learned more than I ever thought I could. When June came I was ready. My husband and all 12 children came to the recital (that cost a small fortune) and I was able to get up there and do my part. The best part was when my daughter said, "Mom, you didn't miss a step!"

I still love tap. Each week I walk out with something new to work on. I practice all week and feel great when I can walk back in and show what I have learned. One step in particular took me 3 months to master. What a lesson in perseverance. This last January I was supposed to move up to the intermediate class but once again it meets on Monday. I have stayed in the Beginning class but Minda has me come early each week and she teaches me the dance so I can perform with the other class in the recital in June. Then during class she gives me more difficult variations on the steps she is teaching to the others. I miss being with some of the other women I danced with last year but this is a good fit for my life. Sometimes, I am tempted to quit. My Dad thinks I'm silly. My life is hectic and I feel a little guilty about spending the money but I justify it as a good form of exercise but the greatest benefit to me and my family is that I feel happy when I tap. I have tapped away stress and grief and each week I see that I can do more than I thought I could.

My Juggling Act

Roy got his yearly Social Security report and he looked to see how much money I would get if he were to pass away. It freaked him out that I couldn't support the family on what I would get even with the house being paid off. He started to question my choice of a degree which got me questioning my choice so
I went back to look at elementary ed. and that freaked me out. If I switched I would have only a handful of classes that would count instead of being halfway through my Associates Degree. Then again when I get farther into my degree I will be taking even more studio classes that take double the class time plus homework so that maybe it would all come out even as far as time was concerned. I was starting to panic. If I was going to change I need to do it after this semester and not waste any more time.

 It hasn't helped that I had been worrying because I wasn't enjoying my 2-D design class. It is so different from anything I have ever done in the way of art before. I have always been a paintbrush, pencil, and pen artist and here I was in a classroom where the only other person my age is the professor and they are all so familiar with the computers and programs. I was very confused so I decided to fast, ponder and pray about it Sunday. The confusion left but I didn't feel real sure about my path until Monday afternoon. I was sitting in 2-D design class and it just felt right. I presented my project and I may not have gotten an A but I am sure of a B. I didn't use some of the tools the other students had (we hadn't been taught yet) but we weren't being graded on anything we didn't know. For the first time I walked out of class feeling good not overwhelmed.

Now that I am comfortable with my degree, again, I am focusing on doing the work. I don't know how I am going to get my assignments done this week. The problem is my Comp. class. We are supposed to go to the library this week and find sources for our paper. I don't know how to get there. There is a reason I am taking an on-line class. How do you take a 1,3 and 5 year old to the library and get anything done? Monday I have class, Tuesday I have Audrey to babysit for me maybe I can sneak out for a while in the afternoon but not for long Tyler's All-State concert is in the evening at the Convention Center. Wednesday I watch Jordyn in the morning and have class in the afternoon and in the evening we are going to the temple. Thursday Audrey is around again but she will be watching kids while I take Peter to his first Dentist appointment and then again in the afternoon when I take Melissa and Blake to  the dentist. Thursday evening is the normal craziness with tap class, scouts, working on the girls fundraiser for camp and activity days for Emma. Friday the library is closed and Saturday I need to delivery the candy baskets for the fund raiser and the dance is in the evening. How do I leave the kids for the afternoon as well? This is a very bad week for this assignment. I need to get out and take pictures for the art class but that is not a problem with kids in tow. My plan has been to get my work done by Friday afternoon so that my schooling is not interfering with family time. This definitely going to challenge my juggling skills.

I was talking to Sarah today and she said that her professors at BYU love Google Scholar and encourage them to use it. I think it's interesting that I'm not to use it for my class. I have used it before and found plenty of free info. Ryan turned me on to it.

Ryan just got home from his morning classes and he said the roads were terrible. He nearly got into 3 accidents on the way to school and 2 on the way home. His car is stuck two houses down he couldn't get all the way up the street even with new tires on his car. I'm not going anywhere today until I go with Roy and Neal to the concert. I don't even dare take the van in these conditions, if I get stuck, which has happened before, there is no way to push a 15 passenger van out.

I have gotten my first few grades from my comp. class and those have me feeling good. I will feel even better when I see a good grade on a real assignment and not just on a discussion. I didn't used to care so much about grades. I'm not sure why. Am I trying to prove something to myself, my husband, my kids or my Dad or is it that I just like the feeling of really doing well? Maybe I've just listen to myself lecture my kids about grades for so long I better walk the walk.

Reading

The chapter I just read in my text book got me thinking about reading. I love to read I always have. I remember being in first grade when the teacher asked me to read out loud for the principle. After he told me what a wonderful job I had done, I remember thinking how foolish it was to be complimented on doing something so simple. He might as well gush over how I was able to walk across the floor without falling down. I had no idea that reading didn't come as easily for everyone.

When I wanted to know how to decipher the pig Latin my parents spoke when they wanted to keep me in the dark, I went to the school library. When I wanted the truth about the birds and the bees, I went to the public library. It was all there, anything I wanted to learn about from armadillos to zits. In sixth grade I discovered biographies. There are so many fascinating people who have lived on this earth that I will never have the chance to meet but I could get still get to know them. That was the nonfiction section then there was the fiction.  Made up worlds, interesting people, mysteries anything anyone could imagine and I could go there anytime. We didn't have a television during my teen years yet I was never bored. I had access to the whole world and beyond.

Every birthday and Christmas I received books from my step grandfather. He managed a book store and was gifted at finding the right book to interest and challenge me. I was able to work for him one summer. It was a huge challenge to save my money and not spend it decreasing the inventory.

Now I surround myself with books. Every room in my house, excluding the bathrooms, has a bookshelf over flowing with books. I have discovered the joys of thrift stores where I can indulge without too much guilt. With readers of every age in my house the collection covers everything from board books to "War and Peace". I wish I could say I've read them all but it's not true, there isn't enough time in a day, week, month or year. One day I will get to them all but when I'm working on my schooling the text books have to come first and that's OK. I am content with the knowledge I am gaining there.

One of the questions in the text talked about the kind of genres I read. I think I've tried them all and found I have a taste for most of them. Some are too rich for everyday, some are full of empty calories but they are fine in small doses. Others are wholesome and satisfying for mind and soul and you feel you have grown when you are finished. Just like trying new foods trying a new genre can be fun and exciting and you won't know if you like it until you try it.

A Blogging Beginning

I never thought I would be a blogger. I've journaled before with more or less regularity but this is a whole new world for me.

I've been thinking about me as a writer since reading that first chapter in my text book. I have spent some time writing poetry and stories but it has been many years since I have written in a school setting. I'm not the same person I was 25 years ago. It will be interesting to see how this lapse in time will have improved or weakened my skill.

Last night I read some things my grandmother wrote to and for me some 35 years ago. Of course, I cried through it all they were very sweet and touching and I miss her but when my 8 year old started crying I was confused. He said he wished he had been able to meet her. It made me think about how I did feel so close to her when all I have left are her words on paper and I wished I had somethings my own mother had written. She felt to inadequate when it came to writing that if she could she would avoid it. My father found a file folder of all the letters I had written to my parents the first year of my marriage. My mother had saved all of them. They were living in Korea at the time and telephone calls were much to expensive a way to communicate it was fun reading through them and remembering those times. I also have a file folder full of the letters from them but my father wrote them all. I am grateful to have them but I miss not having something of her. I have found little lists and notes but nothing that shows how she was feeling or tells us who she really was.

My grandmother is the one who opened by eyes to the world of literature. She took me to the library one day and I asked her which books I should choose. She said "any ones you want". When I had gone to the school library before the teacher had shown us which shelves to choose our books from. After looking around for a while I choose Peter Pan, a nice thick chapter book. Someone else may have thought it was too big a book for a second grader but I loved it and couldn't wait to get my hands on something else. As far as she was concerned there were no limits to what I could handle. Now, I find myself tapping into the feelings she gave me. School, and family I can do that. I capable of more than other people think and more than I think. I have proved that before, who would have thought I would be the mother of 12 children? not me! but here I am and they are all cared for and happy. I can choose any book off the shelves.