Happy Birthday to P

My fourth boy turned 12 today. I remember thinking my life was over when my oldest hit such big markers--but somehow four leaving childhood behind, makes me cherish my fews years of mothering left. I know the blur that is junior high and high school. I am going to blink and it will be his graduation too. I want to scoop him up and hold him and tell him I love him--quick before he won't let me. I have been reminiscing about the day he was born. The doctor induced me and the epidural worked perfectly. I sat watching the Wizard of Oz with my husband thinking, childbirth shouldn't be so easy. I have to say, he continues to make me feel that way. When he was three if I asked him to do something to help out he would always answer with a grin, "Sure mom, sure!" Now, he gets up to feed the chickens and never complains--rejoices when the chicks hatch, and quietly bury any that don't survive. He shares his life and love with his brothers and last week offered his hard earned cash to his sister because she wanted to buy a new book. Sometimes I think I don't deserve to be so blessed. I love being his mom--every minute of these twelve years. Thanks for being mine P.

The Homeless Coat

Ever since I moved to cold country, I have found comfort from the cold in a coat my sister gave me. Now, I realize that coats are generally considered a piece of clothing and probably shouldn't be worn for decades, but this coat didn't feel like clothing--it was more like your favorite blankey when you were a child. No amount of coldness could deter me when I was wearing my trusted friend. It was only about 6 sizes too big (my son who is a foot taller than I can wear it and it is big on him) which means I never need to worry about gloves because my hands are well protected. I have been known to watch lacrosse games, in horizontal snow, with two coats on underneath this treasure. Years ago my children named it "the homeless coat". Now, my five year old sometimes wants to wear a coat too big for him and he calls it his "homeless coat."

But all good things must come to an end, and so I bid a farewell to my trusted friend. How could I pass up Kohls major sale? So now, I proudly wear a new coat that actually is my size. I find comfort in it costing only $25.00. It is snuggly too in a not so slobbish way and I no longer need worry I am scaring the small children when I go downtown. Thank you Kohl's.

Declaring Victory over my Writer's Block

To all my friends who have thought I have dropped off the face of the earth. I am finally feeling freed from the oppressive block. I contribute my new found freedom from somehow pulling off an A in my Milton class in spite of the block. Just between you and me--I feel I can do anything now. Yoohoo! I've missed you all.

I am a picture snatcher! I admit it

Ever since I fell in love with my Mac, I have been collecting photos like I collected rocks as a child. Random photos of people I love. (Now copy right lawyers relax, the stolen image generally comes from family and close friends). That being said, I have never felt compelled to post someone else's photo until this minute. How can I not share this. Look at all these women I LOVE! I am so blessed to call them family. You won't find me in the photo because I wasn't there. I am not their sister--just an old cousin who has watched these ladies grow into amazing women.

Video Courtesy of KSL.com

That is me getting everyone to sing. It was glorious!

W- met the prophet. President Monson left the temple and walked straight towards us (and the other children). He shook hands and smiled. W- was on big brother's shoulder's. President Monson looked up and up until he saw that beaming smile. President Monson beamed right back and tried to show W-his ear trick. W- got shy and hid his face in his hands. President Monson lingered for W-'s sake. I felt so shepherded.

Although W- cried on the way home because he had been too timid and didn't speak to President Monson. He marched in the front door and proudly announced he met a prophet of God to his brother's.

What is Wrong With Me and other Random stuff

3 Months and I have not written ONE thing. Not just a blog, but not a note, an e-mail, nor a journal entry--nada. I don't feel like I am in a funk. I have been happy and content, but unable to put two words together coherently. I have not just been incapable of writing, but nearly incapable of reading. So what have I done with my time? Well
--Tore out my kitchen island, moved other cabinetry, electricity etc. to remake my kitchen into somewhere I want to be.
--Rediscovered the joy of spray paint and basically sprayed nearly every inch of the same kitchen.
--Mowed lawns
--Stayed up watching movies with the teenagers
--Long talks about Art and Asia and Children and Music
-- Reconnected with extended family in Arizona
--Swam with family and dear friends
--Watched the ants and the wasps
--Made jam
--and played and played the piano.
It's been a GREAT Summer.