Entourage

I had to beg and badger, but Jennie and Ryan finally let us have their kids for a few days! Because of our temporarily blended family, Collin had a brother, a sister and three cousins to accompany him to his first "real" day of kindergarten, and another cousin, Jakey, to meet him at the school door. How's that for an entourage? It took the crew an inordinately long time to get anywhere due to custody battles over the various modes of transportation. When the scooters and bikes finally wobbled up the street, Lexie and Ruby giving Collin a starting push on his bike, it was a beautiful sight. Like birds taking flight. Collin, the newest bird, had plenty of wind beneath his wings today. He was very proud of his entourage, and rightfully so. These birds of a feather have each others' backs.

The Only Thing We Have to Fear...

I picked up a parenting magazine and was bombarded with warnings. Article on a 6-year-old with arthritis. Letter to the editor about a kid who broke his leg on a slide. Ad for a group called Parents for Window Blind Safety. Something cautioning against Vitamin D deficiency, another one listing the dangers of sun exposure. An article by a mom who was proud of herself for getting all her kids through childhood with no broken bones. Is that success?

I was so annoyed with all the fear mongering, I sent the kids to play in the gully. Without sunscreen. Without a GPS device, cell phone, first aid kit or helmet. They came back because it was too hot. Have you heard of the "Wussification of America?" Well, I know what that looks like! You see it when you force a kid to spend 10 minutes in the sun without a popsicle.

We have a clubhouse in our/my parents' backyard that my dad built. It has a big deck on top without railings, windows with no glass that look out on a 15-foot drop, and numerous hornets' nests in the ceiling. One time, I built a ladder with my brothers so we wouldn't have to climb trees and jump from the branches to get to the second floor of the clubhouse. While I was climbing up the ladder, a rung broke and I cut my arm on a protruding nail. I still have a three-inch scar.

When my kids discovered the clubhouse hidden in the scrub oak, Coco and Bill decided the little structure was a deathtrap not fit for their grandchildren. They paid to have it renovated with railings and a floor that wasn't rotting through. (Thanks, Clint!) There is little to no chance of getting hurt now, but I wonder if that's 100% positive. Where are these coddled little kids going to learn to try and fail, to get hurt and get up, and to fend for themselves? When I asked my dad about why the clubhouse used to have windows we could have fallen out of, he said, "I hoped my kids weren't dumb enough to fall out of a window." Kids were given a lot more opportunities to test their mettle a generation ago. Golda almost called DCSF Tuesday when Scott suggested she walk the half mile from ballet to voice lessons. I mean, there are traffic hazards along that route, not to mention exhaust fumes, UV rays, crazy people at the bus stop and rated R posters in the video store window. I should know. I used to walk that same street four days a week from school to ballet. The only danger I fell victim to was spending too much money on candy at RB's One-Stop.

I think I need to book a weekend for my kids with Survivorman. I'll prepare them by letting them go outside without knee and elbow pads, holding scissors with the tips up. Running, even. Or walking fast.

Ballet Moms

When Esmae suggested playing "Mommies," Xanthe said, "Yeah! And we have to set up our ballet studio. Because moms go to ballet." The two little moms proceeded to play in their ballet studio, teaching their dolls to dance. As the girls did their leaps and gallops, I reflected on the moms who taught me ballet. I thought about Clytie, who taught me for many years, and who still teaches my girls. As kids, we only saw Clytie in her teacher role. Once in awhile, an ambulance or fire truck would go by the studio, its siren wailing. Clytie would look nervously at her watch, and we students would see a glimpse of the mom in our teacher, wondering where her children were as the sirens screamed by. Now I do the exact same thing.

Xanthe's ballet teacher took a moment yesterday to tell me how much she loves Xanthe. Xanthe was at the ballet recital rehearsals just two weeks after we got her home three years ago. Her teacher, Lisa, remembers that quiet 13-pound one-year-old. She got tears in her eyes when she told me how special Xanthe is, and how far she has come. These are the moms whom our girls emulate. Marianne, who could become a mom at any moment, and still teaches class. Julie, who made Ruby feel so comfortable last year as a broken-armed buffoon. Sarah, who has hundreds of little girls who all think they're her favorite. Jennifer, Golda's pointe teacher, whom Golda admires already. Clytie, always quick to praise our accomplishments and bring out the best in each girl.

I'm thankful that moms go to ballet. If my girls grow up to be just like their dance teachers, I will feel like they have succeeded. Teaching their dolls first position is just the first step.

Misconceptions

"In the beginning, the moon was really, really big and that's what gave Jesus the idea to make all the planets." That's what Jakey told Freestone, and Freestone agreed.
"Yeah! And he made Jupiter first."
Could be. Seems like there are quite a few misconceptions about Jesus out there. Just today, I had this conversation with small theologians:

Xanthe: Henry found a bird that is dead.
Me: OK. Let's see. How about if we bury it?
Henry (clutching the dead bird): We can't do that! He couldn't breathe.
Me: Yeah, but he's dead. So...
Henry: But he's coming back to life when Jesus gets here!
Me: What are we going to do with him until Jesus gets here?
Henry: How about put him in a nest so another bird can watch him?

There's got to be some kind of object lesson in there somewhere. Maybe these kids know exactly what they're talking about. I wouldn't discount their ideas, that's for sure. Kids, in their innocence, are the closest thing to heaven there is.

Success!

It was all a big success, the first day of school. Scott and I both went with Golda to her first day of junior high. After allowing us one picture outside the school, she fled through the front doors, hoping nobody saw her with her parents. I had a little anxiety attack when I went to orientation with her last week. I remembered my jr. high experience: feeling ugly, not being able to find my classes, wearing Izod when all the cool kids were wearing Polo, not knowing which music was in. I was a baby. My parents hadn't told me there was music written after Chopin and Beethoven. I thought Chicago was just a city and that U2 was spelled "You Too."

Golda shared none of my angst and had a great first day. I felt more comfortable walking the littles to elementary school at my alma mater, a block away. Before we left, Freestone had to get Star in a picture so she wouldn't feel left out. Star loves school. She sneaks over to recess any chance she gets. Freestone was immersed in French from the moment he walked in the classroom. Not wanting to break the "French only" rule, I said, "A toute a l'heure, Freestone! Je t'aime!" He looked at me like I was nuts. Jakey reported to his mom later, "Our teacher CAN speak English, but she WON'T!" It will be fun to see how the immersion class turns out. We're totally committed for the long haul, so one way or another, Freestone will learn French.

Araceli and Ruby both have wonderful teachers whom they are familiar with. It was an early out day, so we had a chance to regroup after school and get homework, practicing and reading done before the 4:00 lesson marathon started. This is going to be a great year. I've implemented just a couple of rules. 1. Breakfast together with everybody at 7:15. 2. no TV during the week. 3. No screen time of any kind for me or anyone else during after school hours. We'll see how that works. What is your most important rule during the school year, and how do you get it to stick?! Good luck, all you school-age families! As my dad always says, "Study hard!"

China Friends, Spread the Word

Have you heard about Half the Sky's one-time opportunity to find homes for these three little girls with complex heart conditions? If you're familiar with Half the Sky, you know that they promised the Chinese government that they would not get involved in adoptions. The government has given Half the Sky permission to intervene on behalf of these three girls. Maybe someone out there feels one of them is part of their forever family...

Incidentally, I just found out through their website that they might have progress reports on Xanthe from her orphanage, since Yiyang has had a Half the Sky program since 2005. Has anybody requested progress reports on their child from Half the Sky? Just curious!

The End

...And summer's lease hath all too short a date...
-William Shakespeare

Yes, yes, it's true that I'll no longer be under constant siege by four-foot-tall humans. Lunch will be easier, there will be fewer carseats to buckle, I'll have a moment to breathe.

Still, the night before school starts is always melancholy for me. I'm filled with sorrow bordering on despair, contemplating how short the summer was. Summer is when childhood happens. During the long summer days as those little bodies bronze and freckle, their minds are turned loose to wander wherever they may. Tonight there was a summer storm, and a rainbow. In the technicolor light of dusk, the kids worked together in the gutter to build a dam out of sticks and mud. It was their last collaboration before they go to their separate classrooms, even separate schools tomorrow.

I know, I know, the routine will be good. I'll be able to get my mind back on its feet, I'll have time to finish my jobs. The kids are excited about their imminent adventures.

But the thought of the pool water sitting so still under the August sun, bereft of splashes and squeals...it doesn't seem right. As always, I go reluctantly into Fall, looking back regretfully at the green mountains, drinking in the clear blue sky and straining to hear the last cricket's song.

Trading Pool Days for School Days

Just a few last photos of summer. These pics are representative of the whole summer for me. I tried to be at the pool almost every day, just to clear my mind, soak up some vitamin d and let the kids unwind and be active. I love the pool with its calm, blue water and expansive view of the mountains. There is no better place, especially when Scott or relatives or friends are there, too. Just a few more pool days until our thoughts turn to schoolbooks, turning leaves and cool breezes!

Pray 'n' Play

Xanthe loves to say prayers. Nobody else in our family has said the dinner prayer for about a year because it makes Xanthe mad when it's not her turn. And making Xanthe mad is like waving a red cape in front of a bull. Why risk it?

Xanthe has a rote prayer that is the exact same every time, except that it gets longer and longer the more practice she gets. At the risk of being sacrilegious, here it is:

"Dear Henalee Fahder, Bless the food, bless we can have a friend over tomollow. Bless we can be safe when we have a friend over tomollow. Bless we can have fun when we have a friend over tomollow. Bless we can have a good day when we have a friend over tomollow, and we can have a friend over tomollow. (Then she opens one eye, looks around to see if we're getting it, and wraps it up.) Bless we can have a good day tomollow when we have a friend over. Amen!"

So if I call to invite your kid over to play with Xanthe, don't shatter her faith by saying no. You could be the answer to her prayers! Heaven knows, friends are very often the answers to prayers! Speaking of which, I'm sending out a heartfelt thanks to all my friends who made supportive comments on the blog or in real life about the baby blues. I feel better already, knowing I have all that backup!

Optimism

None of us is perfect. I think we have that established, but it doesn't stop most of us from expecting perfection from ourselves and others. I have been so far from perfect lately, I started to wonder if I had postpartum depression. For a couple of days, I meant to get online and find out how to manage the baby blues, but I never got a chance. I was completely overwhelmed by getting from one task to the next while trying to enjoy the last week of summer. Last night after the kids were in bed, Scott was at a meeting. Ptolemy was awake, so I reached over to my nightstand and flipped open the Ensign to read. It opened to an article titled, "Managing Postpartum Depression." There was all the information I needed! It was a confirmation that the Lord is with us in our trials and is aware of our needs. I started thinking about how many other tender mercies I had experienced in my day. Earlier, Sarah called to have my kids over as I was trying to arrange babysitting for my visiting teaching lunch. A neighbor offered to bring Xanthe home from ballet just as I was wondering how I was going to be in two places at once. Scott came home with Ruby's school shopping all done. Later, Golda was craving an Oreo shake, and I felt guilty because I couldn't swing that with 6 kids, and it seemed like the squeakier wheels were getting all the grease. Just then, Dad called and said he wanted to bring us some "malted milks" and see how Ruby was recovering from her root canal. Golda got her Oreo shake.

As I read the postpartum depression article, I recognized myself..."feeling a sense of failure, having difficulty focusing or concentrating, struggling for perfection, feeling as though you are losing your mind, feeling overwhelmed." And on top of that, feeling guilty and inadequate about all the help that has already been rendered. This is my life, I chose it, I should be able to handle it. People have said, "Well, you shouldn't try to do so much." As if it's my fault that I'm overwhelmed. As if I could choose to stop doing laundry, grocery shopping and violin repairs, and tell two of the girls they can't take dance classes anymore. As if that would solve it. I'm not "trying to do so much." I'm trying to maintain the lifestyle that I feel will best serve my children, including educating them in the arts and feeding and clothing them. It's not supposed to be easy, and telling me I'm doing it wrong isn't helpful. Dropping out of everything and staying home in my sweats would make me suicidal. I like my life and all the stuff that it's comprised of. Soon I'll feel the strength to be on top of the game again. The article said, "there is hope for normal functioning while experiencing feelings of depression." Good to know! My Nana just had surgery for skin cancer and a skin graft on her nose. When I visited her on Monday, she had a big bandage across her bruised face. I asked her how she was feeling, and she said in her cheerful voice, "Well, I'm just...planning on getting better!"

So this is a chapter in my summer, maybe one to be mitigated when school starts. For now, through the intensity of this time, I'm thankful to be able to enjoy so many fun and joyful moments, and to keep my head above water so I can see the beauty. If you see me at a recital with no shoes on and three-week-old nail polish chipping off my toes, (Hi Michelle!), just know that I'll have it all together soon!

Right "Bach" at Ya

Reasons Ari couldn't practice today:

Endpin too long
Endpin too short
Endpin slipping
Living room rug not big enough
Ruby was laughing
Jake and Freestone were talking
Bow was poking her thumb
Music was too hard
Ugly stickers on her fingerboard
Mom wrote the wrong words on practice paper
Cello too big
Xanthe was staring at her
Cello hurting her thumb
Mom's hand too close to the music stand
Stool too low
Window was open
Feelings were hurt
Bow hair too dirty
Didn't have breakfast or lunch
Couldn't breathe

Reasons Ari couldn't have dinner or go to the pool:

Didn't practice cello.

Party Like It's 1989

Prom night, 1989. I'm still mad at Scott for not kissing me that night.

Scott and I did party this weekend, and if it were 1989 and I were 17, I wouldn't be so wiped out! We watched 17 Again last week to get us in the 1989 mindset for our 20th high school reunion. It's so funny to revisit the big hair and Esprit and Bennetton clothing, although I largely escaped the big hair epidemic through laziness and impatience. Ponytails were my thing then as they are now. Scott's hair, through no fault of its own, was bigger than all the girls' combined! His thick, wavy locks may have been one of the reasons I fell in love with him. Looking at his dome now, it's a good thing there were other reasons too!

The reunion: Friday night was the family-oriented potluck at the park, followed by a midnight showing of Ferris Bueller's Day Off at the Kaysville Theater. (So funny...the crowd knew all the lines. "Bueller?...Bueller?..."Scott didn't get home until 3:30 am) Anyway, when I pulled up to the park in my minivan full of kids, I looked over the crowd and thought, "This couldn't be us. These people are old!" I caught myself and laughed. Was I expecting everyone to look the same? As I began to mingle, I felt a surge of love for all these men and women who shared my childhood. Some of them were in my kindergarten class. Why that fact alone engenders so much love for a virtual stranger, I don't know. Maybe it's that when you remember a guy when he was four feet tall with long, thick hair and a size 6X Burton Bulldogs t-shirt, you can't help but love him! It was great fun to catch up with some of the characters that inhabited my youth. From what I could tell, everyone did OK for themselves. They have good jobs, great spouses, cute kids. On the other hand, we have all been kicked around by life a little bit. Divorce, death, changing expectations. Maybe we're more humble and realistic than we were at the ten year reunion, and more aware than we were in high school that we're all in this together.

Saturday night we all met at dear old Davis High School for dinner and socializing. I came away with a comforting satisfaction that there are friends out there, close by and far away, who share my memories, who forgive my youthful blunders, who, not having spoken with me for ten or more years, would stand by me if necessary. I'm sure of that. It was so good to reconnect. I love you all, whether you know it or not.

Trailing Clouds of Glory

If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away. -Henry David Thoreau

Children are born as individuals. If we fail to see that, if we see them as clay to be molded in any shape we like, the tougher ones will fight back and end up spiteful and wild, while the less strong will lose that uniqueness they were born with. -Melvin Konner

Sometimes I wonder what is wrong with my children. I ask, Why is she so defiant? Why is she so emotional? Why can't he stop pretending to punch me in the face? What can we do to get them to change? Why aren't they more obedient?

Here's what I have to remember: None of us were given broken children. We were given children who are utterly perfect, each in their own way. They each have their struggles, yes. But what if I look at parenting not as fixing their deficiencies, but as helping them discover their strengths? If our children are children of God, then they have profound potential. They don't need me to shine a light on their weaknesses. That would be missing the point. They don't need mending. They need understanding. Whatever their strengths and weaknesses are, these children are supposed to be that way. I'll try to remember how beautiful and fragile they are, and how much responsibility I have for unlocking their strengths. It's a delicate process. I'm going to need more finesse and wisdom.

Groundhog Day

Ruby and I made a pilgrimage to Orem this morning for a check-up with the pediatric infectious disease doctor. The check-up came at a good time, because Ruby's neck has been looking worse the past few days. Turns out, she needs another surgery. I really feel like we're living in the movie, Groundhog Day. And I really hated that movie.

Today's doctor visit turned from a 10-minute follow-up to a 2-hour project, including a CT scan and lots of projectile baby fluids. Ptolemy came prepared with enough ammunition to soil an entire Lands' End warehouse. By the time we left the hospital, I was lugging a bag of dirty baby clothes bigger than the backpack I took on an eight-week trip to Europe. At some point during the game of Extreme Motherhood, you just have to laugh.

Finally, Ruby got all set up for a surgery consult tomorrow at Primary's. I really hope that this is the last and final chapter in the Freakish Infection saga of Ruby's life. I can't tell you what a good sport she has been, through months of heavy medication, doctor visits, pain and frustration. The bright spot has been that, between Dr. Scheuller and the I.D. doctor, we have gotten the best care possible. The doc today not only muscled us in for the CT scan right away, but also managed to set up the surgery consult for tomorrow so Ruby could have this whole thing behind her by the time school starts.

As long as I'm touting Ruby's bravery, let me just brag about her generosity, too. On the way home from the doctor, we stopped at McDonald's. As I was ordering, Ruby slipped in the request, "Oh, Mom, get something for that guy over there. He's unemployed and hungry." At least that's what his cardboard sign said. Fortunately for the guy, a mom can't say no to a request like that, especially coming from a little girl who's holding a bandage to her neck. As messed up as her neck is, at least we know there's nothing wrong with her heart. She's just a beautiful girl.

Cooking Tips

Here's a tip for anyone who might be LESS adept than I am in the kitchen (and that would be difficult): When you make a farmers' market fresh stew out of local, seasonal vegetables, turn the crock pot ONbefore letting it sit all day. It's just a handy little tip that some might not think to do if they've regularly been up at 4:00 in the morning.

To my credit, I did think of everything else. Browning the meat, taking some kids to the farmers' market to choose the produce, texting Scott to let him know his wonderful wife had dinner simmering away. Except it wasn't. I got a clever little text from Scott when he got home: "Is the crock pot supposed to be on high, but unplugged?"

"LOL. IGICFDAH." (I guess it's cereal for dinner again, huh?")

Camping Trip

Araceli and Freestone asked me if they could sleep out on the back porch. I was about to say no when I heard Ari say, "I've never been on a camping trip before!!" She and Freestone were so excited! So I said yes, thinking that by doing so, I was getting out of ever taking them on an actual camping trip. Their sleeping bags are only good at 70 degrees, anyway. If they ever ask why we don't camp, I'll say, "We do. Remember that camping trip back in '09? The cookies and milk? The bugs? The stars?"

I cautioned the kids that they could only stay outside if they didn't draw attention to themselves. I didn't want them to keep knocking on the window, summoning me to come look how adorable they were. The camping trip lasted until the third time I had to tell them to take the sleeping bags off their heads and stop walking around crashing into the patio furniture. Had we been in the real outdoors, it would have been a looong night, as wound-up as the little campers were.

As they trudged to their boring old bedrooms, I may have put a further damper on Freestone's enthusiasm when I mentioned that we had church the next day. He groaned and replied, "Ugh! I'd rather drink boiling hot water all day long!" Well, I'd rather drink boiling hot water all day than go camping, so I guess I can relate. Poor kid!

Golda's Turn

My former violin teacher offered me two tickets to a Utah Symphony concert at Deer Valley. I thought Golda and I could go, do some school shopping, have dinner, spend the evening on the mountain. I accepted the tickets. Then I remembered I have this baby who can't live without me! I readjusted my vision of the outing to include a baby sling. No problem. In the end, however, Scott took Golda instead, just to make the shopping part more fun and the baby part less of a hassle. The two of them did some damage at the outlets, dined at Panda and enjoyed the concert. I love the mountainside venue for summer music. There is nothing more refreshing than an evening in the mountains, especially when it's accompanied by a full orchestra and chocolate chip cookies!

Let's Take a Vote

Here are the facts: My 20 year high school reunion is in one week. I gained 35 pounds during my pregnancy. I've lost 20. Everyone is asleep or away except me.

Let's take a vote: Should I make a batch of cookie dough and eat all of it myself? Or should I slice up a peach and look slimmer at my reunion? You realize this is a rhetorical question, right? Nobody who is my friend is going to tell me how delicious peaches are. Also, everyone I went to high school with is either 1. my husband, 2. a close friend or 3. has a daughter in one of my ballet classes. So I'll still see them all the time when I'm thin again. Later. After I eat all this cookie dough. Yes, I already made the cookie dough. I told you the question was rhetorical.

Ain't Nobody Happy

I received the six best words of wisdom ever from SWS yesterday when I said, "I wish I were one of those on-the-ball moms." Her response: "Oh, please! there's no such thing!"
I love it! Hope you don't mind me quoting you, Sarah!

I'm glad there's no such thing as a mom who has it all together, because if there were, I'd be the farthest thing from it. How do I know? Because I got a butcher knife and stabbed an inflatable pool toy to death today. It was one of those toys that is ALWAYS on the floor, in the way, getting tripped over. So I knifed it repeatedly and threw it in the garbage.

Do you think summer is getting a little too long?

If there is a mom out there who has it all together, please give me your best advice for resetting the cranky button. Those tacky wall plaques are right: "When Mom's not happy, ain't nobody happy." If you care about pool toys everywhere, tell me how to have more patience during the dog days of summer!

First the Worst

As Freestone found out in Montana, sometimes first is the worst and sometimes it's the best! Xanthe had a fun first today with her very first ballet class. She has been looking forward to it for years, as she's watched the other girls come and go in their leotards and tights. She wasn't disappointed! Her teacher, Lisa, is the one every tiny dancer must have at Clytie's. When Xanthe bounced into the studio, fully planning on becoming all clingy and weepy at any second, Lisa already knew who she was and captured her heart before she had a chance to get freaked out. Phew!

Ruby had her first jazz class tonight. She loved it and demonstrated every move when she got home. I spent a breezy evening watching Ruby's new moves, accompanied by a thousand crickets, on the back porch. It's so fun to see Ruby grow and embrace every new thing that comes her way. Fifth grade is going to be a great year for her.

Golda wasn't so lucky. She had the worst of the firsts today, her first migraine. I was hoping that the migraine gene wouldn't blight my kids' lives, but it finally struck. Golda couldn't see, threw up, cried that her head hurt and became delirious. As a kid, I never knew what hit me whenever I got a migraine. When my parents figured out what was wrong, I still had to wait it out in a dark room every time, plagued by the hammering in my head. I lived in fear of the next migraine. There's better medication nowadays, so I took Golda to the doc and he gave her a shot for the nausea and a shot to dilate her blood vessels. She immediately fell asleep in the doctor's office. If migraines are going to be part of her adolescence, we need a treatment plan. Today, she missed her voice lesson and her ballet class, and I don't want that to happen next time. Now we're prepared with a prescription and a plan.

Whew! Today was a reminder that, as Ptolemy does every little thing for the very first time, all the other kids are constantly growing and changing and experiencing new things, too. It can be overwhelming, but it's what life is made of, right?!

Big Sky

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There is nothing better than a road trip. Sure, with 6 kids in the back seat, there are plenty of boundary disputes, rogue elbows in siblings' personal space and whining. But there's also the excitement of the whole family zipping along through space together, separate from the world, taking in the beauty of the
American West. My favorite freedom is that I can get in my car and go as far as I want in any direction. This time, it was a trip to Cooke City, Montana, that had us on the road at 6 AM Thursday morning. By ten we were in Yellowstone, marveling at the landscape and stopping to take pictures of all kinds of wildlife. Well, some of us were marveling...

One drawback to the aforementioned road trip excitement is that you have to pay for peace with electronic devices. I've never seen a carload of kids so reluctant to look out the window. At one point in Yellowstone, we were literally stopped on the road by a herd of buffalo. One stood right in front of our car and repeatedly stuck his tongue out at us, growling. That's cool, right? One giant beast sauntered over to our car and looked in the window at Freestone. I turned to look at Freestone's reaction and he was completely oblivious to the buffalo, staring at his PSP. Golda was similarly zoned out with her headphones on. Scott and I scared several of the buffalo away when we started frantically screaming at the kids to turn off their electronics.

Once we arrived in Cooke City, the kids were set free from the car to roam the meadows and woods surrounding the cabin. My aunt and uncle built this beautiful place, and we're lucky enough to be invited up every year. This time, five of my cousins and their families were there. That's 12 adults and 26 kids. The kids had us completely outnumbered, and they were a lot louder than the adults, too! But, let me tell you, they were not hard to entertain! They were busy from morning until late into the night with canoeing, fishing, exploring, doing crafts, tie-dying, pinatas, playing games, catching wood chucks, hiking and playing in the stream. As my uncle Paul says about the cabin, "There's nothing to do and not enough time to do it." So true! Nobody even missed not having a TV. The adults had plenty of time to talk and strengthen our friendships. I'm so grateful for all my cousins, and so glad we got these few days together, since we see each other much too seldom.

Scott's favorite drive in Montana is to Top of the World. There are glaciers, mountain goats and beautiful lakes, with far-reaching views of the Beartooth mountains and the ranches nestled in the valleys between them. We drove up there and took a picnic, which we ate in the car because it's always cold and windy at the top of the world.

On one of the trips to the Broadwater to canoe, Freestone was taunting my cousins and me, saying, "You're the worst! You're all the worst! I'm last the best," as he brought up the rear of the line. My cousin David said, "OK, but the last person is the one the bears eat." Free bolted past everyone else, shouting, "I want to be first! I want to be first the worst!" Fortunately, nobody got eaten by anything, although the mosquitos were big enough to try, and we did see a black bear cross the street in Cooke City.

Too soon, our trip was over. On Sunday, we went to church in a log cabin in Cooke City. Primary takes place in the hayloft, and it's a highlight for the kids. As soon as it ended, we drove back the way we came, through Yellowstone, still taking pictures of wildlife and still having fun. Close to the end of the drive, dusk settled over the landscape and the kids in the back were quiet. I had time to reflect on each one of them and what their needs will be this coming school year. It's going to be busy and full and fun, and each child will need more than I can give them at times. For this weekend, though, we gave the kids all we had, showed them all that nature has to offer, and added a few more ties between our hearts. My cousin Emily said, in the log cabin church, that her mom's best advice to her was to create as many ties to her childrens' hearts as possible so those ties would never break. I love that advice, and I will carry it into the school year, along with all of our Cooke City memories, for days when there's no time for watching buffalo.