Weekend Madness

Last weekend, we had more cousin time!  Izzy, Collin and Jackson came to stay a couple days while Ryan and Jennie were on a drill trip with Lexie.  We had all kinds of fun.  There wasn't much time, so we had to pack it all in.

Friday night, a bunch of other cousins joined us for games, prank calling and playing outside in the spring weather.  The King cousins heard the commotion from way over at the school and came to join in.  It was a full house, just how we like it.

Saturday, Tizzy and I explored the upper Avenues while Araceli and some friends went to the mummy exhibit at the Leonardo.  Araceli's thing is mummies, and it took us until the last day of the exhibit to finally get her there.  I'm glad she didn't miss it.  Afterwards, I told them to walk up 4th South to Wendy's, and the three girls got lost and pestered by a young druggie.  Oops.  Let's not tell the other girls' parents that I encouraged this urban adventure.

While all this was happening, Scott had taken Ptolemy, Freestone and Collin to Park City for a "Boys Trip."  They couldn't convince Jackson to go.  I even offered to drive him up later that night, and he refused.  He chose "stay home with you" over anything else I suggested, which was fun.  He'd come upstairs from his video game and talk my ear off until I suggested going anywhere, then he'd quickly retreat to the basement for another 20 minutes.  We had fun.

And so did Scott and the boys.  They went all over, and had plenty of treats.

Jackson posted his guess as to Golda's mission call.  He has a chromosome duplication, so he operates on a slightly different frequency than most people.  We loved having him around for the weekend.  Anyway, he found Syria on the world map and stuck a sticker on it, saying "Golda is going to go to Syria and teach those terrorists a lesson!"  Best guess ever, even if Syria isn't an option.  

Sunday at the Ranch.

Sunday was stake conference, which is s two hour meeting.  With nine kids?  I'm not that valiant.  With the boys still in PC, I took the rest to Nana's church services.  Aside from the fact that you get sacrament meeting AND Sunday School in just one hour, it was a moving experience.  The lesson was on Easter, but the real lesson was Enduring to the End.  One of the ladies gave thanks in her prayer for the strength to get ready for the meetings.  By the end, all the old folks were pretty much asleep.  I looked at the lineup of walkers and wheelchairs, and was touched by the dedication of Nana and her friends.  I was deeply inspired.

Nana came over after church and enjoyed dinner with the King fam.  Her walker is a fun ride!

Scott visited Marlene with some of the kids.  She is being brave and healing from surgery as quickly as she can.

Jackson, keeping the troops in line with his vigilance.

Well, maybe not quite keeping them in line.  Two rolls of duct tape kept them busy for quite awhile!

Scott had made a detour to Orem to pick up Golda on the way home from Park City, and I took her home Sunday night so she wouldn't have to ride Frontrunner at 5 am.  I wanted a chance to hang out in the car with her, anyway, and it was an excuse to take Tziporah and run away to Park City for the night.  It was a good choice, because there was snow along the Wasatch Front, but good weather up Provo Canyon to Heber.  Tizzy slept and I enjoyed the drive, and the ensuing peaceful evening at the Ranch.  Except for when Tizzy tried to light her My Little Pony on Fire.

Good artist!

Monday morning, not particularly early, Tizzy and I tried out a new restaurant called Good Karma.  Tizzy wanted McDonald's, but come on.  Indian for breakfast: much more exciting.  And that was a weekend that called for an exciting finish!

Lunch With the Ladies

Tiffany's house this week

Christine's house last week

Sarah's, March 14, 2016

Michelle's March 22. I'm adding pics later.

I have to document some of these tables.  Having lunch with my shelter friends every week is the best thing I could do for my sanity and energy level.  Just the beauty of a table set for a special event lifts my spirits and makes me think about what else I could do to bring beauty into the life around me.  It's given me the desire to make some special mealtimes for my family, although that certainly doesn't happen on a daily basis.  The other benefit to lunch with friends is the sounding board it provides.  Women need other women.  How could they solve problems if they didn't have each other to bounce concerns off of?  It would be very difficult to parent in a vacuum, and I'm glad I don't have to.

Things that Crawl

We're waaaaaiiiiting!  We're ready!  There are probably 30 guesses up on the map right now.  We thingk Golda's call may have been assigned yesterday.  My friend's son, whose papers went in the day after Golda, got his call assigned yesterday, meaning he will receive it in the mail later this week.  Golda's call was "ready to be assigned" on Sunday, so it could have been in that same batch.  I sent all my clues to Golda about my hunch, and it took her like 5 hours to get my message and then get what I was saying, that her call could be in the mail.

She tells us to be calm, and Scott manages a calm exterior.  Me, not so much.  Especially since Ptolemy is waiting for something much bigger than a mere 18-month commitment to the church.  He is waiting for JOSH'S REPTILE BIRTHDAY PARTY!!!!  Yes, you read that right.  PTOLEMY IS INVITED TO A REPTILE BIRTHDAY PARTY!  How can you even sleep at night, knowing that?  Huh?  The day he got the invitation, he wrote a "1" on the front of it.  Next day, the first thing he did was write "2" on the invitation.  This is how we know that it's been four days since Josh - wait for it - brought the invitation IN PERSON to our house and handed it to Ptolemy.  Since that moment, there has been much reminiscing about how that event played out.  Josh knows where we live now!  He's been to our house!  He came all the way in!  Heck, Ptolemy is practically a celebrity, having received a personal visit from Josh D., of Mrs. J's Blue Class fame!  And as if that weren't enough, Ptolemy is soon going to have the opportunity of GOING TO JOSH D.'S HOUSE AND SEEING WHERE HE LIVES!  And there will be reptiles!  Ptolemy had it all planned out to bring Largo the Iguana to the party, until I explained that this is not a "bring your own reptile" party.  The reptiles will be provided by the host, to look at, not to bring home.

Last night, I think Scott must have grown weary of the "how many more days" conversation, because when I got home, Ptolemy has created this card to take to the party.  Good idea to keep him busy, Scott.  I might try writing a letter myself.  "Dear Golda, I hope you have a good mission!  I can't wait to see where you're going, and when you leave!  Thank you for bringing this beautiful event into our lives, and for being so faithful and diligent.  I just hope you get lucky and go somewhere with lots of reptiles, just like Ptolemy...If Friday EVER comes!"

Be the Presence of Love

I may have mentioned this story that took place when we were in Rome.  We were sitting in a restaurant when a woman burst through the door next to our table, cocked her head, zeroed in on us and exclaimed, "Engliiiiish!"

She was a Canadian who had been traveling solo for weeks, and she was delighted to hear our North American accents.  She sat down with us to dine, and a friendship was born from her enthusiasm and inclusion.  We all loved her immediately.

The other day, Shannon posted a quote that resonated with me, so I paraphrased it and adopted it as my new life mantra.

"In every situation, be the presence of love."

This comes from a book called Loveability by Robert Holden.  The actual quote is, "The greatest influence you can have in any situation is to be the presence of love."  This quote struck me so powerfully, I immediately began using it.  God is love, and so there's nothing else, really.  We are here to love.  As I go about my life. I visualize me being the person responsible for bringing love into any situation.  Love manifests itself in patience, and in really listening.  I can feel the love softening my facial features, even.  Yesterday I was driving myself, Xanthe and Ptolemy to ballet.  We really should have left home five minutes earlier, and I was on edge.  I noticed I was scowling, and I thought of my role in this world: to be the presence of love.

I felt my face relax, and I smiled at my kids.  I listened to them.  Their voices were so sweet.  I was happy because I was aware that my job wasn't to get to class on time, though I did.  My job was to bring love into the car, and then to take it with me to my class, and send it with Xanthe and Ptolemy to their classes.

Teaching ballet, I have a student who really has a hard time.  I noticed right off at the beginning of the year that the other girls were very patient with her, and I followed their example.  At 8 years old, they're too young to bring anything but love with them.  It doesn't matter to them if their friend is different.  They probably aren't even aware of it, but they crave seeing the teacher treating their friend with love.  I react to her behavior kindly, and I try to understand what she needs.

In an article detailing how the general authorities assign LDS mission calls, Elder Rasband related a story of then-Elder Eyring assigning missions.  He said that he liked to envision where the missionary would return from after his or her service was complete.  What perspective that brings to the beginning, to imagine the end.

Along with "being the presence of love," I am always cognizant of the intended outcome, rather than the process.  With my little student, I constantly imagine how I would feel if, at the end of the year, her mother thanked me for being her ballet teacher.  I try to act in a way that I'd feel proud of, in that moment.  Would I deserve the gratitude?

Whenever I'm successful in lovingly, instead of gruffly, interacting with one of my kids, it's because I am mindful of the kind of person I hope they become, and I'm thinking about how I hope they remember their childhood when it's distilled down to a handful of feelings in hindsight.  Lately, it seems like everyone in our family has been struck with a severe case of the blues.  Seasonal Affective Disorder?  I don't know, but if Costco sold mega family packs of Zoloft, I'd be the first one in line, and every crock pot recipe I prepared would include a double dose of them.  Since I can't do that, I focus on what I would want my child to know if he or she was away from me and feeling hopeless or depressed.  Would I want them to know that I expected their practicing to get done?  Would I want them to know that I was checking their grades and I wasn't happy?  No.

When kids are discouraged, it's hard to imagine that anything matters except for love.  I want my children to know that I love who they are.  There is nothing else. Last night, in the depths of exhaustion, nobody wanted to get their stuff done.  Instead, we sat in the kitchen and made a list of everything we're quitting.  School.  Violin.  Orchestra.  French.  Jazz.  Especially school.  As I channeled love, I just knew that nobody needed a taskmaster at that moment.

So there's love.  Now we just have to figure out how to add motivation back in.  Springtime, can you help us?  Can love and homework coexist?

Super Tuesday

This post comes with a free iguana update!  Largo is friendly, fast and fun.  We love him.  He munches fruits and vegetables, basks under his sunlamp, and when we let him out, runs up the stairs as fast as he can.  He also looks good on a skateboard.

For the rest of the country, it was Super Tuesday.  For Ptolemy, it was Pajama Day.  They had a read-a-thon at the school.  I love read-a-thons!  I don't love kids going to school in pajamas, but I'll play along.  We have the best teachers.  They're incredible.

And that's all.  You didn't think I was going to say anything political, do you?  If I did, you'd all hate me.  Promise.

Adams Canyon

Several weeks ago, Freestone made the statement that "Saturdays are so boring."  I stopped and realized that, although some of the other kids have things on Saturday, Freestone has the whole day free.  On the Friday night that he made that statement, he was dreading the upcoming boredom.

I could relate to feeling despondent about having nothing to do.  I said, "Why don't you get up early with me, and we'll drop Araceli off at orchestra and go do something fun."  We went up Emigration Canyon to Ruth's Diner and had a fun morning above the inversion.  After that, Scott and I both decided that we would take advantage of Freestone's Saturdays to spend some time with him.  Now the Saturday question is, "What adventure are we going to have today?"  After all, nobody should dread Saturdays.  They are full of possibility.  Since Freestone's sad statement, and our breakfast at Ruth's, Freestone has been to Southern Utah twice for weekend adventures.  We have turned his dread into anticipation, and along the way, we have carved out time with this funny, gangly kid whom we adore so much.

In the parenting world, you hear the statement, "I'm not a cruise director!"  Why not?  If your kid's childhood is a cruise, why wouldn't you want to be the director?  Or at least be on the cruise.  I hear, "Kids need to learn to be bored."  I get the point of that, but it irks me.  Wouldn't it be better if kids learned to be enthused?  Man, I see so many bored kids on Instagram, posting selfie after selfie, in their bathrooms.  "Learning to be bored" doesn't seem as worthy a notion as "going on a cruise with your parent," even if the cruise is a metaphor.  So I'm going to direct this cruise until my children take over the wheel.  I see it happening already.

Last Saturday, Freestone said, "Let's go hike Adams Canyon, Mom."  I always say yes, and I did, and we picked up a couple of cousins on the way.

Surprise!  It's winter, and there was snow in the shady canyon.  Duh.  Fortunately, it had been warm, and the snow was slushy.  Traction was no problem going up.  Going down, we all slid on our derrieres the whole way!

Having a contest to see who could keep their fingers in the icy creek the longest.

Don Carlos is so loyal.  He logged a million tiny chihuahua steps in the slush, and never complained. Freestone packed dog food and a tupperware of water for Don in his backpack.  They're a good team.

I think the hike may have been more than Izzy bargained for.  At the end, she said, "I forgive you for taking me on this hike, Circe."  So funny!  We came home muddy, with sore behinds and frozen fingers, but I bet we'll remember that Saturday.

See the kids?

At home, Freestone laughed at Scott's lesson in folding pants.  Completely useless information when you could just throw them on the ground.  Ha ha.  We still have some mountains to climb with this kid.

blur

As I mentioned, we got to watch Nikki and Clint's kids a couple weeks ago.  It was tons of fun, but way too short.  This schedule for Thursday night cracks me up.  It was complicated.  I had to go to Salt Lake 3 times that day, and Scott once.  The week flew by in a whirl of activities.  Later, when I looked at the pictures on my phone, they painted a pretty chaotic picture, one that I think is beautiful.

Scott is the story guy.  I can't do it.

Church selfies, I think.

Feldman's Deli in Millcreek when we went to see Golda dance.

Cactus and Tropicals, between Golda's performances.  I love greenhouses in the spring.

Scott sometimes had to take a nap at about 10 pm.

Picnic at the U during Araceli's orchestra rehearsal.  Notice my loose definition of a picnic. They're eating Fun Dips.

Ruby was on the committee for New Beginnings.  I ended up with triplets that night, just for fun.  They are hilarious together!  The things they say are so funny.

There was a Chinese new year party at the Yarbroughs.  This was the only attempt at a picture, but it was great to see everyone.

Cactus and tropicals

The kids had a "cook-off" one night. Excellent way to get kids to eat what's for dinner. Freestone and Cade made eggs and bacon cooked in butter, because they know I, the judge, love butter. Araceli and Austin won with their cinnamon roll pancakes and fried red potatoes.

Marlene just had back surgery, and although serious, it went well. Nothing can stop Grandma! We had fun visiting her and hearing about her therapy adventures. We are so grateful everything went well and that the surgeon was so good.

I had to drop off my little cellist at group class an hour early so I could be back in Kaysville to teach ballet. Uncle Mark and Aunt Marland live a few blocks away from Elliott, and they were gracious enough to let Araceli read at their house until it was time for class. Thank you, thank you!!

Serious competition!

Ruby, our perpetual flight risk, "doing math homework."

Grocery store lunch with our little friend whose mom, Angela, just had foot surgery. He is the cutest baby ever, of all time.

Workin' at the violin shop.

Homework with an audience.  We loved having all those kids for a week. Bring 'em back! With Golda gone, our lives are so empty! :)

ESL Playgroup

Tziporah and I have a new project.  We go on Thursdays to a playgroup at the Sunnyvale Community Center where the Asian Association of Utah gives English classes.  I get to teach and play with the children of the students all morning.

This all came about because of the refugee crisis worldwide.  I had a strong desire to cast my vote for humanity and compassion, but I can't very well travel to the island of Lesbos and scoop drowning Syrians out of the Mediterranean, as much as you all know I would love to.

Instead, I went with the "bloom where you're planted" notion, and our whole family checked out a "refugee fair," where all the aid organizations in Utah presented information on what help is needed.  We watched a short documentary in which a Nepalese man told his immigrant story.  He said that many immigrants to this country go years without having a single friend who is "from here."  I can do something about that.  Why shouldn't I go out of my comfort zone?

So every Thursday, Tizzy gets to practice sharing and helping babies, while she brushes up on her Farsi.  All the kids are from Afghanistan, although the adults in the classes are from all over.  Colombia, Congo, Malaysia, etc.  We usually have four little boys, one little two-year-old girl and two baby boys.  They're all absolutely beautiful, with bright eyes and impish smiles.  I look into their fresh faces and wonder what their future holds, as children of immigrants.

Their mothers are the ones taking the English classes.  Most are friendly, some are weary and wary.  I can only imagine the tragic circumstances that brought them here.  At the break time, I try to talk to them, as difficult as it is.  Last week, I visited with two African women in full Congolese regalia.  They each have a dozen children!  We established that their children are all in school, and too old for the daycare.  When we all left, one of these women gave me a warm hug.  This is the kind of interaction I was hoping for, to break down cultural barriers in tiny increments.

A couple of months ago, I was in a Middle Eastern grocery to get some spices.  The kid at the counter, a young, hip, handsome college guy, gave me a wry smile.  He said, "Are you...?"  He wanted me to fill in the blank as to why I was there.  He wanted my provenance.  I found myself on the verge of saying something like, "I'm just white," or "I'm just regular," even though I know darn well that there is no "default" ethnicity.  It even crossed my mind to say, "I'm just American," as if "American" was an ethnicity, and that I represented that ethnicity.  The hubris!  In my defense, I'm not often called upon to state my heritage, and I admit, I didn't have an answer ready. I ended up saying, "I'm Caucasian.  I'm from here, from Utah."  The kid smiled and said, "Do you usually shop at Middle Eastern grocery stores?"

Suddenly I was in a position of explaining my presence, which, as part of the ethnic, religious and cultural majority here in Utah, is a position I am rarely, if ever, in.  I liked how it made me think about who I am in the larger context.  I liked that this kid was calling me out, so to speak.  Asking me who I was, rather than assuming - and letting me assume - that I was "just" one of the majority.

I told this kid at the store that I was looking for good spices, that I usually find them at Sinbad's on State Street, but I saw his new store and stopped in.  He told me they have plans to open a gyro stand, and I promised I'd be back.

In the meantime, I get to teach and learn from the smallest and newest citizens of this country.  Little Yursef, Muhammed, Ramish and Modesei are pioneers, just like my ancestors.  They're blazing a trail in a foreign land. A trail of cookie crumbs and legos at this point, but a trail.  They're the intrepid souls that will bring their parents into this new culture, not the other way around.  Children learn faster.  That's why those rambunctious, Farsi-speaking, soccer-playing boys didn't bat an eye when a timid little white girl with strawberry-blonde braids joined their ranks.  Tziporah will be speaking Farsi in no time.  She'll integrate just fine.