The Sickies: Of Disappointments and Gratitude

Wednesday night I was awakened to the sound of Coraline cough/choking. I sent Ben in to check on her, and -- well, let's just say she was sick.

I slept in her room, holding her upright in the rocking chair. I awoke every hour or so, to clean and comfort her. It was a long night, but by morning she was on the mend and I was laying in bed catching up on some missed sleep.

Then I heard Ben holler for help. He'd cut his thumb pretty badly on our apple slicer. I ran out to help him put pressure on his thumb and insisted he sit down. He was pale and dizzy and about to pass out. Needless to say, he ended up staying home from work for most of the day. After several hours in bed, he and Coraline both felt better.

By evening it seemed as though our house would return to normal. But before Ben and I made it to bed, Nell woke up sick. So she and I slept on the couch together. I sat upright in the recliner and she leaned against me, waking up every hour or so for some comfort and clean up.

We had big plans to go see Ben's family this weekend. He has Monday off, and two of his little sisters -- who have a child both Reid and Nell's exact age (like literally born just hours apart) -- are visiting from Utah. We were all looking forward to such a fun weekend with family. That obviously all changed when the norovirus hit our house. We we're definitely all disappointed by that, but I'm actually surprised by how well each of my kids handled the bad news. I suppose they just wanted to slow down and get some rest anyway.

I kept telling Ben that I had a feeling my body would fight it off while I was busy caring for the kids -- but that once things settled and I got to relax I'd be hit. And that is exactly what happened.

Reid woke up Saturday telling me he felt a little sick. Not sure if he was hungry or truly sick, I gave him something light to eat and waited to see what happened. Well, about an hour later he was telling me I'd given him the wrong foods and that they had made his tummy sick. He spent the whole day watching movies. Thankfully he needed a lot less comfort and clean up than the girls. Both because he had a milder version of the stomach bug, but also because he can hold a garbage can and aim all on his own. It's such a lovely stage to enter.

Anyway, my predictions were accurate. Once they were all in bed on Saturday night, recovering quite nicely from all that had ailed us the past three days, my body gave in. Before anything major happened I asked Ben to give me a priesthood blessing. I took note of a couple different promises. One was that I would be healed depending on my faith and the faith of those offering the blessing (Ben and our Bishop). That left me with a lot of hope and I crawled in bed thinking I could sleep everything off.

Well, within fifteen minutes I was rushing to the bathroom. It's interesting to me, how getting the stomach bug always humbles me. As I sat on the bathroom floor I was thinking about that promise, how my faith should have made me all better. I didn't actually doubt my faith (or that of the others), instead I just realized that being sick for those short few minutes was my body getting better. It was horrible, awful for five minutes, and then it was done. My girls had spent 12 hours, heaving every hour -- but I got it all done in five minutes.

I also thought about how having that same illness helped me think about my kids and their suffering, and that of course made me ponder the power of Christ's atonement.

I know, I know ... this post is super weird. First, who wants to read about our bout with the throw ups? No one. No one! And why am I making it all about spiritual things? Well, because getting sick always brings me closer to my Father in Heaven. I still remember a time, some twenty-plus years ago when I was sick and I asked my father for a blessing. He told me it wouldn't magically make me better, and I realized I didn't care. I just wanted words of comfort, sent from my Father in Heaven.

Basically every time I've been sick since then I have asked for a blessing, and rarely have I immediately felt better. At least not physically, but I'm always given the strength to get through whatever ails me. And this phenomenon is worth noting. I love that even in moments of great disappointments -- missing family fun and having to care for sick kids -- I can find gratitude for the wonder that is my body and the beauty that is the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. 

Thankful Thanksgiving

This Thanksgiving Reid is thankful for Nell, painting turkeys, Coraline, school, kisses and hugs, Jesus, and prophets. 

Nell is thankful for grandmas and grandpas, Reid, presents, daddy, mommy, our house, and God. 

I am thankful for Ricola cough drops, sensible bedtimes, Ben's job, story time snuggles, the Atonement, the USA, and farmers. 

Ben is thankful for the Gospel, marriage, family, health, education, Priesthood, and the Internet.   

Coraline is probably thankful for my boobs, clothes (but not socks -- girl hates socks), paper, her fingers, her lovey, applesauce pouches, and screaming. 

Happy Thanksgiving from our family to yours! 

Kneel Before Your Magnificent Maker

Sunset taken earlier this month

This blog is just a hodge podge of thoughts. But today I had an experience I feel inspired to share with my children. I can't tell them now (partly because they are in bed, but mostly because they are 4, 3, and 10 months old). It's a simple story with grand impact. I hope you, dear reader, enjoy it as well.

During sacrament meeting today it occurred to me that I am too prideful. I am, but this isn't a story about that realization. This story is about a missing handle on my apple peeler/slicer/corer small kitchen appliance.

Last Wednesday we went to a local Apple Orchard for some apple picking. This Tuesday we picked some apples off a friend's tree. Twice now I've tried to harvest all these apples by turning them into yummy freezer sauce and dried apple rings. Twice, I've failed. My first attempt was last Sunday, and though I did complete a batch each of sauce and rings, the whole process was a mighty struggle and huge mess. In the end I threw my old apple peeler/slicer/corer in the garbage (and chanted mirror, mirror on the wall I am my mother after all).

My new apple peeler/slicer/corer arrived Thursday and thus began my second attempt at saucing and dehydrating. It also came to a frustrating end when I could not get the handle to stay on. To add to my misery, I had three small children demanding all my attention and my kitchen was (once again) a complete mess. I finally just threw my hands up and recognized that now was not the time. I quickly finished up a batch of sauce and decided to complete the task another day. Preferably one when I didn't have three small children around.

Which leads us to today. Coraline and Nell were napping and Reid, you were settled down in front of the TV (an unfortunately regular babysitter for our non-napping child). Dad and I got the kitchen all cleaned up and ready to apple! We had three slow cookers (for three big batches of sauce) and the dehydrator with five trays of rings out and ready to go! The apples were all cleaned and we both had a peel/slice/core station. Only, I couldn't find the handle to my brand new apple peeler/slicer/corer.

I was certain a basic cleaning of the kitchen would turn the missing piece up, but it hadn't. I took time to pause, ponder, and pray. And then I searched through drawers once again. Still, I could not figure out where that little handle (and it's screw) were hiding. Dad started the rings anyway, using the partially functioning peel/slice/corer. I settled on the old fashioned method of hand peeler and hand corer. Things were going alright, but I knew we could be more efficient if I just found the handle.

The thought came to me that prayer was going to help me find it, but I also knew I had to look. So I just continued shuffling through drawers and uttering pleas in my head. The second thought that came to me was "kneel." But I felt like I didn't have time. I didn't need to stop working, to stop looking, in order to offer a sincere prayer. Heavenly Father, I know you can help me find this! Where is it?

Kneel.

Finally, I acquiesced and got down on my knees. I offered the same prayer as before but with a heart that was humble. A heart that was not only pleading with my Father in Heaven, but also worshiping Him.

On my knees my mind was cleared. I knew I needed to go look through the compost bucket. Our yucky, rotting, overflowing, compost bucket. I headed outside with a certain confidence. Continuing a new prayer in my mind, I testified to my Maker that I knew He was great enough, that even if I hadn't thrown the handle in the compost during my fit of rage, He could place it in that bucket at this very moment. And I would find it. I grabbed the bucket by the handle, had a few bees swarm up near my hand, and I headed out toward the compost bin (not giving up at the sight of the bees is proof of my confidence -- they terrify me).

I poured out the basil plants I'd dug up Thursday evening. Then I sifted through rotten egg shells. Next I found all the apple peels and cores. I poured them out onto the lid of our large bin and began sifting. I was running my fingers through rotting, mushy food waste. Nearly everything was brown, and the handle I was looking for is brown. And yet I saw it. My eyes caught sight of it just as my fingers ran right by it. I let out a sigh of glory and relief and began looking for the screw.

As I walked back toward the house with both, I nearly shouted "You are Magnificent!"

All I had to do was kneel.


About a year ago I wrote you, dear children, a letter in regards to prayer. This story would seem to fit right into that epistle. But I needed to add it here tonight. It isn't enough to document, just one time, my thoughts and feelings towards prayer. It isn't enough to occasionally mention my gratitude for my Maker. I don't mention His wonder nearly enough on my little corner of the Internet. But tonight I could not go to bed without preserving this little story.

I am almost 33-years-old and I still (occasionally) pray with the silliness and faith of a child. I pray over missing appliance handles, and my God delivers me. Dear children, please, please, always know that God will answer your prayers. He may demand you humble yourself first. He may demand you kneel. But He will answer.

He wants to help you, but He will wait until you are sincere. He does not want you to take Him lightly. He wants you to really know He is there. And I want you to know your mother worshiped Him. Not just in big moments or before meals and long family car rides. But even in little moments, when I was up to my wrists in yucky compost, anxiously waiting to make you some yummy freezer applesauce. 

Canyonlands National Park: What to do with kids

Canyonlands National Park is ginormous. It's so huge it has three separate districts, each nearly 80 miles away from the other. We visited the Island in the Sky District, which is most popular due to its close proximity to Arches National Park and Moab, Utah. The Needles District is the Southern portion of the park and the Maze District is only accessible via off road vehicle. That is how primitive this park is, you can spend days and days in the park and only see a small sliver of its grandness. We spent about 6 hours in Island of the Sky and were able to complete two nice hikes, check out a couple of jaw dropping overlooks, and spend lots of time refueling at the Visitor Center. During our time at the park I couldn't help but notice we were the only people with children. No lie. We did not see another child the entire time. Even the park ranger made a comment about that. Hikers were cheering us on ("Go Family!") and giving our kids candy (as a reward for hiking 2 miles). Since kids must be such a rarity in Canyonlands, here's a fool proof way to make sure your little ones enjoy their trip.

Explore the wonderful Educational Tools at the Visitor Center and become a Junior Ranger! I'm probably sounding like a broken record by now, but of all the National Parks we visited Canyonlands had the most crucial Visitor Center. I think it is the only place in the entire park that has running water. We stopped three times during our visit. On the third and final visitor center stop Ben sat down with the big(ish) kids and spent a good twenty minutes exploring the hands on Educational tools they offer. They have dried pressed desert plants, animal track games, artistic info on how the soil grows, and -- of course -- a park movie detailing the geology and history of the area. I really think of all the park visitor centers, this one offered the best Educational resources.

Also (I'll repeat), purchasing an item or two from the visitor center is a great way to support the park. We found an Audobon book to help us identify life in the Southwest desert. Reid loved it!

And there is a lot of fragile life in this beautiful desert
*both photos taken while on GVP hike*

 Shafer Canyon Overlook and "The Neck" offer great views of deep canyon vistas. The scenic drive through Island of the Sky is basically a drive atop a small portion of the Colorado Plateau. You can see as much of the area as your eye allows. You are at the highest points of these intense canyons and there are few words that accurately describe the wonder of it all. The Neck of the plateau is a narrow passing, just big enough to fit the road. Here you can see both sides of the canyon surrounding the plateau. It is nearly impossible to get adequate pictures of the view, so you'll just have to enjoy this one of Ben and I, proving we were there. Though there isn't much to explore around The Neck, it is worth stopping. You can always take in more of Shafer Canyon outside your car than in.

Grand View Point marks the end of the scenic drive, but not the tip of the plateau. Though the view at GVP is magnificent, if you really want to reach the end of the Island plateau you'll have to take the two mile (round trip) GVP hike. We did it as a family, Ben carrying Nell; I Coraline; and Reid walking the entire thing himself. 

Well, except for these 100 steps, where Ben carried him.

Neither my words nor my photos will do the GVP hike any justice. Ben and I both considered this one of the best hikes of our entire National Park (and State Park) tours. Solitary. Dramatic. Vast. Breathtaking. The experience will remind you there is a God. He is Grand. You are nothing. And yet, you are unique and known to Him. And if you aren't spiritual, don't worry, the experience will still shake your soul.

We had a chat on hike safety before we went; don't wander away from mom or dad!

Just taking a bathroom break off the edge of the world.

I can't imagine what it must have been like to work for the Conservation Corps and build trails like this. Hiking these parks always reignites my patriotism. I'm grateful for this wonderful country and our desire to preserve these beautiful places and share them with anyone willing and able to explore their grandeur. 

The end of the hike requires some mild rock climbing. Ben and I took turns going up to the peak. I didn't quite make it to the tip top. My nerves just wouldn't let me (even though a kind French tourist was willing to hold my hand as I finished the last five steps of the climb). After Ben and I each took our turns, Reid decided he didn't want to make it all that way and not see the very top. So Ben took him back up. He was such a trooper to do this hike with us! And his pride was all the reward a parent could ask for. 

I wish there was a way to play the panoramic shots we took. It really is such an amazing thing to have a 360 view at that final tip of the plateau. The below photo was taken near the half way mark, and the mesa jetting out from the left is the starting point. You can kind of make out the trees, but what you can't see is the whole thing is crawling with tourists.

Mesa Arch is a must do hike. If there is any chance you are going to be in the park during sunrise, make it to Mesa arch for that spectacular moment. We were there closer to sunset, but it was still gorgeous.

This hike is a short loop that will only take 20 to 30 minutes of your time. There is no reason Nell (our 2 year old) couldn't have done it herself ... but she didn't. 

Though Reid doesn't look too happy in that photo, he did enjoy the hike. He didn't want to stop playing with this log and stick he found. I love when nature is my child's playground. 

He also had a lot of fun finding Crypto bacteria. It was something we learned about at the Visitor Center. The black tips on the soil is actual fragile desert life. Watch your step! 

Headed out of the park, there are a couple stops on the spur road. We tried to catch a gorgeous sunset at the Green River Overlook (the best spot for sunsets). But the sky turned into a dud and none of the clouds had any color change. It was kind of ironic, since all our park visits had been cloudless. We tried to catch the set in Capitol Reef and there weren't any clouds, and then when we tried again in Canyonlands there were too many. Still, baby and I had an intimate moment with the Creator of all this beauty. 

Seriously, what a sweet little trooper to let us drag her all over these vast spaces. While she and I enjoyed the last few moments of sunlight, Ben prepped the other two for bedtime. And they all slept quiet soundly for the entire 4 hour drive across Central, Utah.

We did not make it to Whale Rock or Upheaval Dome, but one of those three hikes is worth trying if you have the time. The Rock is slick but does have a railing to hold onto. The Dome has two hikes, one short and one longer, but both give you a fascinating look into a crater that was likely created by a meteor that struck Earth millions of years ago. The geology of that corner of the park (both found at the end of the spur road) is intriguing and sure to engage the young minds in your family.

I am so grateful we were able to make these park visits. While Coraline and I were enjoying our moment of peace at the Green River overlook a sweet woman reminded me that one day I'll get my body back. It was an interesting comment, one I know many women take offense to. But in that moment I knew exactly what she meant. She had once had three small children she stayed at home with and cared for each day. She knew what it was like to feel worn and stretched. She knew what it means to sacrifice your body for the needs of small, demanding children. She and I both watched each other in awe, admiration, and appreciation. Our bodies, and the tiny ones we are given to care for, are truly amazing.

Two Week Trip to Utah!

We took a two week trip to Utah for Aunt Katie's wedding and some Bassett Family time. I started blogging about our vacation in chronological order (journal style) and it was a total snooze fest. I do want to capture our many adventures, and they still may come out like a snooze fest, but I'm going to take my time and focus on theme -- which means I'll probably write up a dozen posts. Brace yourself.

Travel time from our house to my parents is 12 hours door to door (11 and a half coming back). At O'Hare the kids got to ride on a bus and a light rail train. Reid thought it was fabulous until we hit full speed (on the Light Rail). Then he was pretty horrified. Nell didn't have a worry in the world and was dancing her little heart out on the driver-less vehicle. I chuckled to myself and told Ben that moment captured their two personalities well. Likewise, when we hit some turbulence coming over the Rockies Reid was squeezing me as tight as he could and Nell shouted "This is fun! This is fun! Again! Again!"

Gosh I love them. I love how well they get along, and I love how unique they each are.

I'm very grateful we were safe through our entire journey. While in Utah we made an additional 9 hour road trip. Plus lots of little trips up canyons and across big valleys, I definitely have a heart full of gratitude that someone was watching out for us and kept us free from incident or injury. 

We Demonize the Poor: A Book Review for "Three Little Words"

Once upon a time I had a reading blog. I also had a lofty goal to read all the English language's greatest pieces of literature.

Both those things are pretty much dead.

Oh how I miss books; not reading, I still read a ton. I miss turning pages in a hard bound book -- one without pictures, one without animal characters. I long for great literature and great books.

But I'm also a realist, and I don't have time (or brain capacity) for the novels I love, for the type of reading I love. But recently I realized I could read memoirs, duh! I roam around blogs for several minutes every day. I use the internet to piece together parts of strangers lives and I enjoy it. My "shoot, have to stop reading and go feed a baby, did I ever change that laundry ..." brain can follow first person narratives, compelling story telling, and simple writing. So lately I've dove right into a couple of wonderful memoirs.

There are some passages in "Three Little Words" A Memoir by Ashley Rhodes-Courter that I'd like to jot down for my own personal memory. In Ashley's writing I found powerful words that are part of my deepest beliefs -- the failings I see in our government. And by government, I want to be clear that I am not limiting the term to the bureaucracy, but to our collective society.

I was drawn to Ashley's memoir because I wanted to know what happened to her mother. Ashley spent nine years of her life in fourteen different foster homes. I wanted to know what horrible thing kept a mother from taking care of her baby and a preschooler she affectionately called "Sunshine."

Drugs. Her mom must have been strung out on drugs, I assumed. Here's Ashley's words as she recounts being taken from her mother and why the original arrest took place.

From Chapter One
I was sitting on the stoop dressed only in shorts when the police cars pulled up. "He's not here," my mother said when they asked for Dusty. One of the men kept coming toward her. My mother, who was holding Luke, screamed, "I didn't do anything!"

"Mama," I cried, reaching both hands up for her to lift me as well. A uniformed man pushed me away and snatched Luke out of her arms. I tried to rush toward my mother, who was already being put in the backseat of a police care. The door slammed so hard, it shook my legs. Through the closed window, I could hear my mother shouting "Ashley!" Someone held me back as the car pulled away. I struggled and kicked trying to chase after her. 

...

At the police station a man in uniform handed Luke to a woman in uniform. ... In the background I could hear my mother yelling for us, but I could not see her. Two women wearing regular clothes arrived. One lifted Luke; the other's rough hand pulled m in her direction. 

...

My mother came into view for a few seconds. "Ashley! I'll get you soon!" Then a door slammed and she was gone. I turned and Luke was no longer there. I was pushed outside and loaded in a car. 

"Mommy! Luke!" I cried. 

In Chapter Two
Now I know that -- in the beginning at least -- my mother never did anything seriously wrong. She never hurt us. She loved us and I adored her. Originally, the police had arrested my mother for writing a bad check; but Dusty admitted he had stolen the checks, and she was released six days later. When my mother returned home, she found our duplex padlocked. ... Although she submitted applications for food stamps and aid for dependent children, the welfare officials told her that she was ineligible because her children were no longer living with her. When she tried to get us back, the caseworker said she had to be able to provide food for us. 

... Our legal guardian was the executive branch of the Florida government, an entity that would rather pay strangers to care for us than offer any economic help to my mother to care for her own children." 

BOOM! There was my answer, right in chapter two, just 16 pages into the book. But I kept reading, and within 24 hours I turned the final page. Ashley's story is jarring. The abuse and neglect she experienced is horrifying and nowhere near the worst. It's obvious other children "in the system" with her had even more abuse and neglect.

In her note to the reader she says "I don't know which is worse; parents who don't care for their children, biological fathers who don't support their offspring, or professionals who violate their professional standards, as well as the public trust, by neglecting those under their care and control. "

Through out the story you see the failures of all three. Her mother struggles to find the motivation she needs to get her kids back, her biological father is unknown to her, and the caseworkers and courts that handle her case are beyond inept.

But even as I turned the last page on her mostly happy ending, I couldn't help but search those first pages for that horrible scene of an infant and a preschooler being ripped from their loving mother's care -- all because her boyfriend stole some checks.

We scoff at the biblical idea that one would lose their hand because of theft. We mock the backwards culture of nations who still use Old Testament methods of punishment, but are we really any better? Are we so hungry for justice that we, in the name of safety and protection, rip babies out of their mother's arms? Her mother's charges were dropped, but the sentence was served the moment the police pulled up to that duplex. Ashley's life was changed forever.

Rather than offering financial assistance to a young, impoverished mother in need, our government -- our shared society -- would rather spend twice the amount on bureaucracy.

I know I'm using one case to make a HUGE claim, but I see it in policy every where I look. Drug tests for welfare recipients, criminal prosecution of simple drug possession, lack of proper rehab facilities, and on and on. We blow money on petty justice and ruin children's lives in the process.

Spoiler alert: drug abuse would keep Ashley from reuniting with her mom. But the separation preceded the drug abuse, perhaps it even caused it. What if even half of the thousands of dollars that had been spent seeking justice had been spent rendering mercy?

I recommend reading "Three Little Words." I know foster care isn't so horrific for everyone, and unfortunately the happy ending isn't a guarantee either. But voices like Ashley's need to be heard. When we think about policies that affect women like her mother, we have to keep Ashley's childhood and voice in the back of our mind. Even as a well adjusted adult, she acknowledges the need to be connected to her extended biological family -- a family that fought for her, but eventually lost to a system that failed her.

Day #2, Mormon Bloggers

In the world of blogging, a lot of Mormons are pretty famous. Quite often I click on some parenting bit, preschool printout, or scrumptious recipe and find a Mormon blogger behind the link. For example, the other day I came across the Worst English Major Ever and I wondered how this women, this female blogger had sneeked into my head and stolen my thoughts. My guilt. My shame. Ugh, I'm a horrible English major. How have I not read a piece of quality literature since Reid started walking? I really was so struck by how perfectly the author captured my feelings. I just felt so connected to her, and it helped that we are both Mormon.

So today my list of five things will be ... five Mormon bloggers that I'm eternally grateful for. And you know I'm Mormon because I casually dropped "eternal" into that last sentence. But seriously, eternal gratitude to Josh, Ashlee, Naomi, Stephanie, and Mel.

1. In 2012 Josh Weed's Club Unicorn post went mega viral and I was left speechless. Really, no words. Absolutely amazing. I randomly check his blog (like, once every six months), and this past month I was really moved by his series of posts where he describes the journey of trying to become a published author. Honestly, I sobbed while I read post #14. I held my little Coraline in my arms and sobbed. Later that night I found out my friend lost her husband, so I sobbed some more. It was a teary day.

Josh's words of worth have stayed with me since that night two weeks ago. The amazing relationship he and Lolly have feels me with hope. His writing is comfort to this failed English major's soul.

2. Early in 2014 I had friend after friend sharing Ashlee Birk's amazing story. It became impossible to ignore, and once I started reading it became impossible to sleep. Ashlee's strength and triumph is astounding. I cannot imagine carrying on as she did. I felt touched by the Spirit in nearly all her posts, but it wasn't even the spiritual parts that kept bringing me back. Reading her story felt like a fictional movie. A total train wreck, yet she stood tall through all of it. I have never forgotten her strength and unwavering love as a mother. Anytime I'm faced with a trial I think of Ashlee and her amazing courage. She is a testament that we can do hard things, especially with God by our side.

3. and 4. In 2014 I dove head first into the blogging world, when I decided to write a post every. day. of. the. year. It was a daunting task and I found myself needing to follow other mommy/lifestyle blogs for inspiration. I was sucked into Catholic mommy blogs for a while, and really enjoyed many of them. But then I wondered about mormon mommy blogs. So I googled it. Yup, I googled it and found a fascinating salon article about mormon lifestyle blogs. From that list of recommendations I fell in love with  Stefanie  and  Naomi. I fought it good and hard, because I knew their perfectly designed houses and gorgeously edited photos had the potential to make me hate my simple, middle-class, Midwest life, but their writing is just so comforting. They share their day to day lives with such beauty, and I have found real peace in knowing these women are on the same eternal journey I am, teaching their kids the same eternal principles I am.

Originally I followed a handful of Mormon mommy blogs, but by the year's end nieniedialogues.com and lovetaza.com are the only ones I still check weekly (and catholicallyearlong.com is the Catholic mommy blog that I stuck with -- plus my friend Amy's).

5. And I can't make a list like this without giving a shout out to Mel at Mel's Kitchen Cafe. She rarely brings up religion or worship (like almost never), but she is Mormon and the absolute best food blogger around. Her recipes have given me the confidence and skills I need to cook healthy, from scratch, amazing dishes -- everything from hot breakfasts to party side dishes. I've tried hundreds of her recipes and never once been disappointed or frustrated.

So there they are, five Mormon bloggers I hope to meet -- and high five -- on the other side of the veil. 

Family Time

I have been really blessed this holiday season, and I feel a need to acknowledge such blessings.

First, and obviously, our little Coraline arrived healthy and with much more ease than previous labors. Second, Reid and Nell have been getting along really well. They truly are best friends and I love watching them interact.* Third, it was so wonderful to have my parents with us. We were pretty boring during their stay, but just hanging out in my home with them was a special holiday gift. Finally, Ben was able to take four weeks off from work. Yes, four weeks! Almost one week of that is holiday time he would have had off anyway, but we are now on the beginning of week four of his paternity leave and I'm feeling really spoiled. He has stayed up with Coraline each night until at least midnight, and one night he even stayed up until 4am. He has played and played and played with the kids. And he has deep cleaned the randomest things without any prompting (the blinds, the microwave panels, toilets, shower heads and more).

It is negative four degrees outside and he is shoveling our driveway right this moment. Our furnace stopped working this morning and our house is currently at 59 degrees. Nell's snuggled up in her bed while Reid, Coraline and I are buried under a blanket on the couch (Coraline has a winter hat on, fleece jammies, and a fleece swaddle as well). Even in this bitter cold, I feel so blessed.

*With all the excitement o Christmas presents we let them each set limits about the other one playing with their new toys, and Reid quickly found he didn't want Nell near a couple of his new things (kinetic sand and bruder crane truck). He played with those toys pretty steadily Christmas day and poor Nell was in shambles. Around dinner time she just started crying "I want to play with Reido." It was clear she didn't care what they played together, she just wanted to play with him. So we made a new rule, he still didn't have to let her play with his special new toys, but he had to take a break from them and find something he could play with Nell. She was thrilled and things have been peaceful and smooth since them. 

Blessed

I've been reserving this day for a post about Coraline's delivery, but I just can't get around to it. And I want the story to be authentic when I write it, so it will just have to be published on whatever day that is -- might not be until January.

For now, I'll just give you the short version, the highlights if you will.

• It was a quick delivery. Just over 4 hours total.
• The Midwife on call was AMAZING. I was so blessed to have her.
• It was a water birth. Judge away, I don't care. Best. Delivery. Ever. 
• Essential oils and soft, classical music were also present.
• And screaming and swears -- because as awesome as the experience was, it was still labor.
• Coraline Margaret is the name we settled on (months and months ago). Really, it was Nell who made the final decision. From the get go it was between Nara and Coraline and one morning I casually asked Nell which one we should use, and she referred to my belly as baby Coraline from that moment on. We're fine with the nickname Cora, but probably won't use it ourselves. 
• She weighed 10 pounds, 10 ounces and was 22 inches long. The whole room had their eyes on that monitor, anxiously awaiting the final tally. 
• She came three days late and on her maternal Grandfather's birthday (I was due on my maternal Grandfather's birthday but came three days early). 

As for today, the hospital stay has been great. As you saw, the big kids came by yesterday and now Ben and I have a couple days to bond with our new little girly. And to try and catch up on some sleep. I have missed so much sleep these last two days. But I am blessed.

The Moment

The moment I've been anxiously waiting for has arrived! Not just baby Coraline's big debut -- but Reid and Nell's introduction to their new sibling. I really think that was the greater anticipation and motivation for me (which I'll explain a bit later). 

When Ben and I discussed what we'd do with Reid and Nell when delivery began he was pretty set on sending them to his parents house -- which is what we did with Reid when Nell was born and it was awesome. But with Reid a little bit older and more aware of his big life change, I just really, really wanted them to come to the hospital and meet Coraline before we were released. 

Luckily, the timing of everything worked out just right and they were there within the first 30 minutes of their little sister's life. 

Nell just stood as close as she could and in her high squeaky voice repeated "baby, baby, baby" and "tiny baby." We all laughed a little at the word "tiny." Yes, to Nell, Coraline is tiny -- but 10 pounds 10 ounces and 22 inches is no tiny baby!

Reid was excited to see her, but he was a little put off by the medicine she was covered in. He was also easily distracted by all the gadgets in the hospital room. He had a zillion questions for me. My favorites were: "Can you come home now and play with me?" Poor kid, I haven't been able to wrestle and play like we use to and I kept telling him once Coraline was out of my belly I'd return to my usual, fun self. I guess he's ready! Another funny one was "Mommy, why didn't you finish your candy cane?" I didn't even know what to say, I'd grabbed the candy cane off the tree as we left the house. I needed something to suck on during the ride to the hospital. I figured it would help keep my mouth from completely drying over. In hindsight I realize he probably wanted to finish it for me, and I should have let him. It was just such a strange question to field minutes after labor. But exactly what would be on a four-year-old's mind as he inspected his mom's hospital room. 

But my most favorite conversation with Reid went like this:  "How did baby Coraline get out of your belly?"

"Remember buddy, we've talked about this. What do you think happened?"  I have yet to directly answer his questions about how babies come out, I just always respond with a question. Great strategy, I recommend it. 

As serious as he could, and with his most intelligent face on, he looked at me and said "You gave birth to her like Mary gave birth to baby Jesus!"

"That's right buddy!" I gave him a big smile and asked for a hug. His response was just perfect. 

Reflections

As I sit down to write tonight's blog post, I have a lot of jumbled reflections on the day. I usually try to zone in on one and center it as my post, even if I connect it to others, but I'm not sure I can do that tonight.

I'm just so excited I'm finally caught up! What I am writing tonight will be posted tonight!

Which reminds me that blogging everyday does, at times, feel like a chore. But it is one I'm grateful for. I'm grateful I've been able to reflect on every day of this past year. I love that I have a record of my family's happenings and my children's growth. I love that I am able to put my religious insights into writing more often than I did before. And I think my political posts have remained about the same in number, that's probably good.

I feel more gratitude, even while I feel more burdened. Burdened by the chore of coming up with something to say for each day of the year. But, as Elder Eyring teaches us about journaling, grateful for the opportunities to see the hand of the Lord in my day to day happenings.

There are still so many things in regards to my study on the Abrahamic covenant and it's relation to Islam that I want to share. Today marks the end of the Ramadan, and I'm so grateful that over the course of the last few days I've been able to learn even more about a religion I admire. Modern revelation tells us that Muhammed is a direct descendant of Abraham and he was enlightened by God.

In 1978 The First Presidency of the Church of Jesus Christ of Later-day Saints gave a statement titled "God's Love for Mankind." In it they claim, "The great religious leaders of the world such as Mohammed, Confucius, and the Reformers, as well as philosophers including Socrates, Plato and others, received a portion of God's light. Moral truths were given to them by God to enlighten whole nations and to bring a higher level of understanding to individuals."

How amazing! What a wonderful message for Church members to embrace. God does call Prophets to lead His Church. He gives them authority to lead and bless His children. But He has also enlightened others and taught them moral truths that have blessed nations. My mind immediately went to men like Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela, and others -- who clearly were inspired by God to do a great work amongst His children. Anyone, with or without the Gospel, has the power to draw closer to God and to gain His guidance, for the improvement of their lives as well as others.

The stretch of Islam has blessed nations. It's improvements to Math and Medicine are the foundation of Western Civilization as we know it, but so few people realize and recognize that influence.

Some of the other wonderful insights I gained while studying the Abrahamic covenant are that God's covenant with Abraham is available to all of us through the Temple. We are all blessed by it as Abraham's seed, but the same promises given to Abraham can be given to us through the miracle of temple ordinances that have been restored in the last days.

Today I was also reminded to choose the better part, which is ironic because I rushed over my experience as Mary of Bethany so that I could be caught up as of today. In my rush to catch up on my blog writing, make freezer meals, do the laundry, and clean the kitchen, I left my children alone to play together. Which is fine, they had fun together. But after so many hours of TV and each other they were both desperate for me. Id' been home and caring for them all day, but I hadn't been playing with them.

The things I was doing were not bad. They were good things that needed to be done. But they aren't things that last forever. Once I was finally able to sit down and really give Reid the time he needed, my heart just melted. He was so darn cute. We were building an airport out of Legos and he just had so much to say. His excitement that Mommy was finally playing with him (aka sitting in the play room doing nothing but listening to him) was bursting out of his body. It was a great reminder of what really matters. 

Grass and Gratitude

This morning as we drove to the YMCA Reid excitedly proclaimed "Look Mommy, I found the grass!"

Oh dear grass, how happy we are to see you.

Tonight I am grateful for the glimmering hope that the grass will return. I'm grateful for a quiet street, that bursts with excitement once it is finally warm enough to walk its length. I'm grateful for a husband who listens, and who makes me want to be better each and every day. I'm grateful for kind caregivers, who aren't just patient with their own children, but with others' children as well.

I'm grateful that blogging each day has helped me to see the Lord's hand in my life. Each day really is a gift from Him. 

Snuggle Naps

Nell is not the best snuggle napper. It bums me out. I LOVE curling a baby up on my shoulder while they sleep. So peaceful. But Nell just fusses, she prefers laying in the crib and sucking her thumb.

So imagine how thrilled I am when this happens.

Here's how it happens: they are both asleep in their own beds, and Nell starts fussing. I panic that she'll wake Reid up and run into her room to try and shush her. But ... the damage is already done and Reid is running full speed to his door. He finds us snuggling in the chair and quickly crawls onto my lap. We rock ourselves into a blissful sleep.

It is pure joy!

 The first time it happened was Thanksgiving 2012. I remember all the words to "Because I Have Been Given Much" just racing through my head as I pondered on the blessings of my overflowing cup. It was one of the most tender and spiritual moments of my motherhood days.

Thankfully this little blessing occurred about once a week from Thanksgiving to mid-January. But the moments stopped being so spiritual and tender when Nell would refuse to go back to sleep, or Reid would be snuggled up so close I'd get a kink in my neck, or (and I'm kind of proud of this) Nell would need to eat and I'd give her a full feeding while keeping Reid asleep. That last one happened several times -- motherhood is all about multi-tasking -- and offering your body like a sacrificial lamb.

As uncomfortable as some of our last few snuggle naps have been, I'm kind of bummed their days seem to be over. All good things come to an end.

And on the morn of Thanksgiving...

I'm thankful for Health.

#1. Ben and I participated in our local Turkey Trot this morning.  This was something I always wanted to do out in Arlington, but just never got around to it. Remember earlier this week when I said I was thankful for Festival (grocery store)? Well, Festival sponsored the event and all the proceeds went to the YMCA and Boys and Girls Club of Wisconsin.  I really love Festival. But back to health . . . I'm thankful for the strong body I've been given, that makes it possible for me to participate in such an event. There was a paraplegic participating as well, and I wanted to go hug her.  But didn't.

#2 I'm thankful for the day in age we live in, where medicines and knowledge of healthy living can expand our lifespan, and make the journey a little more tolerable in comparison to earlier centuries or other nations.

#3  I'm thankful for vaccinations. I'm not even that bothered when Reid gets his shots. He's usually so brave, and only cries for a few seconds. Which is totally worth nearly eliminating the risk of polio, measles, and so much more.

#4 I'm thankful for the good health of my parents. And grandparents. I'm so glad I was able to enjoy 3 of my 4 grandparents all the way into their 80th years. I pray my kids will have the same great blessing, and that my parents will age with as much grace as their mothers.

#5 Did you notice I said I'm thankful for health?  I was not specific about good health. That's because I'm even grateful for the illnesses that occasionally occupy my body. As much as I hate dealing with the common cold or a knock out flu, I'm grateful for the gentle reminder that I am weak -- a mere mortal. I'm usually so dramatic over illness that I really do take the time to think about my Savior, suffering those same aches and pains, in order to succor me in my time of need. I take a minute to look forward with great hope for the day we will all be resurrected and given a perfect, immortal body. What a glorious gift!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING.   

Power of Music

Today I'm thankful for music. Why?  Because I don't know how I would have gotten through 2 hours of L'Bri work without iTunes! Don't get me wrong, I love working for L'Bri, but working from home is hard. It requires discipline, which I lack.

Anyway.  Five reasons I'm grateful for music.

#1 Hymns. My life would be nothing if it weren't for the powerful spirit felt by the hymns. You may say this sounds like an exaggeration, but it is not. My earliest memories of feeling the spirit are all connected to Hymns. I owe my life to the LDS Hymnal.

#2 "Pop" music in all it's variations. I've loved nearly every type of music at one point in life.  And even the types I've never deeply loved (R&B, blues, jazz), I've at least valued and sorted through.  I really love all the variations of radio tunes.

#3 Piano lessons. After reading "Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother" I finally understood the true value of my childhood piano lessons. Through that trial (and small talent) I learned you can do anything with the right amount of dedication and practice. I am convinced piano lessons help children build confidence, intelligence, and character.

#4 I-Pods. How cool is it that you can hold thousands of songs in your pocket? I remember roaming the wilds of 4000 West with a hand me down walkman, and thinking it was just grand. Who knows what the next 20 years will bring.  I can't even imagine.

#5  Hmmm, I'm going to single out an artist here.  Josh Groban.  His words are so uplifting and inspiring.  His voice is so soothing and absolutely amazing.  I've gone through lots of go-to's (everything from Tim McGraw to All American Rejects), but Josh Groban is my longest lasting love affair.  What a voice!

PS.  I really wanted to post my gratitude for books, but I did that one back in 2009. Darn! Come to think of it though, no one would notice the repeat.  (She gives herself a pat on the back for this small ounce of integrity).

The WWW

The other day I was sitting with a friend while we waited on the internet. We were both complaining about how slow it was moving, and then I had to chuckle. Just 13 years ago (less than half my life span) the task at hand would have been unthinkable. Yes, I know the internet can be a great time waster. But I do want to take a moment to list 5 reasons I am thankful for the world-wide-web.

In a nutshell: npr.org, facebook.com, skype, mint.com, and hulu.com

In depth: read on.

First, let's adress the name. World. Wide. Web. So telling! I LOVE that there is a magical "web" of signals floating across the globe, a web that connects us all. I know, even before the internet age there were ways to learn of far off lands, diverse peoples and fascinating cultures; but the internet has made that knowledge more readily available. More time efficient. I dare say most my internet time is spent "thumbing" through news sights. In my youth I learned reading the news was more intimate than watching it. I loved watching my dad lay on the front room floor each night and read the Salt Lake Tribune. Thanks to the internet, I can read dozens of newspapers each morning, day and night . . . and for FREE!

I'm grateful for the communication tools the internet offers. I'm grateful LDS e-mail kept me in touch with my parents when I was literally half a world away. Mailed letters have their charm, but real speed updates and communications can't be beat. I'm grateful facebook helps me find old mission contacts, and share in the joy that is their life -- whether they are still living the Gospel or not.

I'm grateful tools like Skype help Reid see Grandma and Grandpa on the big TV screen once every month or so. It's hard to think he only sees them a few times a year, but Sunday afternoon chats via web cam are always a great way to fill in the gaps between real life visits. Thanks to my techno savy big brother, I watched my parents reaction to our birth announcement on You Tube. It's amazing that the internet not only gives us the power to communicate with our loved ones, but also gives us the opportunity to glimpse into their kitchen.

I'm grateful I can dedicate down time to searching the web.Yes, I'm grateful for at least a few of those wasted hours. I search through recipe blogs . . . and that helps me become a better cook. I research book reviews . . . and that helps me narrow down the texts worth reading. I gaze over craft ideas . . . and that helps me feel humble. You get my point . . . when used appropriately, the internet can actually function as a mentor of sorts.

Last, I'm grateful for the laughs. Without the internet, I wouldn't be able to watch my favorite shows. If I miss Modern Family Wednesday night, I wake up eager to play it on Hulu.com Thursday morning. Ben is always finding random images and clips on the internet, and often times just before bed he'll show me one and we enjoy a good chuckle. When I try to think about how the internet actually works, it's so complex and confusing, but on the surface it truly is entertaining. I am definitely grateful for that.

Farm (in all its variations)

I'm thankful for Farmland night skys. I have seen open night skys since leaving UT, but they've either been hovering over jungle, mountain or ocean landscapes. This last weekend, as we drove down to Illinois during the dark hour of 5:00pm, I was reminded how much I love the night sky that stretches endlessly above farm fields. The world truly feels like yours for the taking when you stand in an open field, underneath a starry sky.

I LOVE farmers markets. The ambiance is so relaxing, and the prices can't be beat.  For example: at Wal-Mart I spent $2 on that floppy, brown basil (2 stems worth) in my hand, and at the Farmers market I spent $2 on that beautiful, lush basil (at least 6 stems worth) filling a medium size mixing bowl.  

I wish Farmer's Markets could last all year round, but sadly, the end is here. PS Our last purchase is still in the garage, a 25lb bag of apples, purchased for $10.  Love Farmers Markets!

Which brings me to #3. I just love me some farmers. I try to avoid stereotyping groups of people, but I still stand by the assumption that farmers are some of the hardest working people on Earth. They also tend to be giving and honest, in a straightforward sort of way. I know this isn't an accurate depiction of all farmers. I know some farmer's sons who, despite 4am wake ups, turned out pretty lazy.  And I know Big Farm does some damaging things to our nation. But to me, the typical American farmer, embodies some of the greatest human values.

I'm thankful for my childhood farm experiences. Ben harasses me for saying I grew up on a farm, and I admit it sounds misleading. But when I casually mention feeding a donkey sugar cubes, riding the hide at a local rodeo, being kicked by a 1 ton cow, or standing my ground while a herd of loose sheep head straight for me; it often gives the impression I grew up on a farm. Though it was my Uncles farm, I still took great pride in it, knowing it once belonged to my grandfather, and at least a few acres of it belonged to my dad. Growing up with farm-life all around you, but never having to do the hard farm labor really is the best childhood to have, ha ha. I'm grateful for it every day. PS I think my favorite casual farm story was when I told my 2nd period I rode 4 miles to the nearest gas station, on the back of my best friends horse, so we could buy Little Debbie treats. They gazed at me like I was a foreigner; they were speechless, until they laughed. 


I feel like I've covered everything, the farm land, the farm products, the farm people, and the farm experiences. So I guess the only thing left is to acknowledge farms across the world. That may sound like I'm trying too hard to stretch this . . . but I'm not. I've gazed awestruck at the rice fields of Borneo Island. I've watched as toothless women, aged beyond their years, sort the grains that feed thousands across the globe. I can't dwell on this too much, or I'll get frustrated about the way the wealthy (myself included) take advantage of the laborer. But I must adress my deep gratitude for the meek, and my gratitude that they will inherit the Earth.

Who knows it better than they do?

Wisconsin

Ben and I had our Thanksgiving weekend early. His younger sister and her sweet baby flew to Illinois for a few days, and so all family members within a drivable distance got together over some Turkey. But that's not what this post is about. This post is about how I need to kick my butt in gear and finally scatter some gratitude around the internet. I was too lazy to post my thanks all month long (via blogger or facebook). I was also too lazy to post 10 days of thankfulness (ala 2009). So over the next 5 days you are going to get a condensed version of gratitude. Condensed on steroids that is. Each of my spotlighted subjects will require five reasons I am grateful . . . and I cannot use any of the subjects I wrote about in 2009.

Let's start with Wisconsin. Yes, I am very grateful for the land of cheese, beer, and crazy Packers fans (tho I have to mention the world would be a better place without one of those three things).  Five things I'm grateful Wisconsin has . . .  

Roundabouts. That's right, I love em! And trust me, if you could exchange all your freeway exits for roundabouts you would too. They move traffic along so much quicker. Plus, they look so much better than four giant stop lights, one after another (plus, when the power goes out, they still work).

Festival. Or just grocery shopping in general.  I remember when I first moved here I thought all the my favorite cereals must be on sale, but then I realized the sale never went away. Groceries are so much cheaper (than VA or UT) in Wisconsin! And Festival runs fabulous weekly coupon deals. I save about 33% (off already low prices) each week. This week I spent $60 but came home with $120 worth of food -- mmmm a freezer full of meat.

Geographic diversity. We are surrounded by forests, wetlands, prairies, and large lakes and rivers. I've learned each area you live in has some beauty to offer, and I'm grateful I get to experience some new ones.

Political passion. There is no doubt the people of Wisconsin are active members of their communities.

Packers. Okay, I'll admit when I started this list I did not think these guys would end up on it. But the reason I love the Packers is purely symbolic. The Packers are the only non-profit, community owned professional sports team in the entire USofA. That's HUGE! And that pride truly is tangible here in Wisconsin. It's a "business" model many state wide companies try to follow, and one I think every corporate entity should attempt to mimic.

It wasn't hard, but Wisconsin definitely earned a spot in my heart.

Sunday Evening

A couple different times now, I've thought to myself . . . "Baby is asleep, what do I need to grade?"  or "It's Sunday night, are my lesson plans set?"

It's weird how months after the career is gone, the habits linger.  The mind is a tricky thing to change.


Tonight I asked Ben if it still feels "surreal" that we have a child.  I know most parents say things like "I don't remember life before now" or "I can't imagine what it was like WAY back then."  Though I understand their implications, I feel like just last night I crawled into bed in a whole other city, with a whole other life.  Not in a sad, longing way.  But in a grateful, wow my life is full way.  My opportunities rich, my blessings overflowing.

Not Ordinary

As we live life day by day it can feel somewhat ordinary.  Nothing spectacular happens; we're creatures of routine.  Lately, I've been trying to downsize my iPhoto library.  As I look over thousands of pictures to decide which ones I can delete --  I'm struck.  

Life isn't ordinary.  

Life is spectacular.

In the span of just a few short months I . . .

stood under this sunset . . .

attended the inauguration of America's first African-American President . . .

 witnessed the eternal sealing of two of my favorite friends . . .

And . . .

used modern technology to make my parents laugh so hard they cried.

Even in it's simplest enjoyments. . . 

Life.  Is.  Spectacular.