The Hill Graves

Cade, Austin, Jacob, Freestone

The Hyper Twins

Jeremy and Jenny

Somebody hide the red lipstick from Circe, please.

Jodi and Olivia

We love visiting the Hill graves every year, and it's not just for the free soda pop they hand out willy-nilly to any sugared-up kid who asks.  We love the cemetery because no matter the weather, it's a beautiful setting.  The statue of Jesus is a perfect backdrop for a photo shoot of all these wonderful kids we have.  We always talk about how Grandma would get a kick out of seeing all the kids.  She would, and probably IS getting a kick out of them!  I wonder if she chose some of them especially for us.  If she had a hand in it, she did a good job choosing the very best ones.

Placing the Chrysanthemums

Since Aunt Tricia, our resident family historian, moved to Miami, she has had to train Bill to take over the cemetery duties.  It's no small task as we have many relatives at the Kaysville Cemetery, and Tricia knows all of their stories and the locations of all of their graves.  Bill enlisted Xanthe and Freestone to distribute three dozen chrysanthemums to various sectors.  Here is Xanthe stopping to brush off Ralph and Ruby Williams' graves.  Ralph was the best man at my grandparents' wedding, but I only remember Ruby.  When I was a child, I thought she was dazzlingly beautiful in her old age.  What a gift to have such a thing as Memorial Day, to remember.

I just had to include this little note from my Aunt Tricia:   Thank you Felshaw, Circe and Freestone, Xanthe, Ruby and Little Tziporah for taking over while I am in Miami..I miss being there on Memorial Day. I remember, as a little girl, to going to the cemetery with my grandmother Burton, my mother and father, aunts and uncle, it was always a very special time to collect all the garden flowers, put them in big baskets, and load the trunks of our cars and distribute them. Now, it seems it is our turn, mother always helped till she passed and would instruct me how to place them and where, but by then, I knew the people by heart and spirit, hearing stories of them all. Quite a heritage in the Kaysville City Cemetery on both sides, and in other cemeteries we visit also. It is now our turn to carry on remembering them, it is the least we can do for all they did for us, but most of all keep their memories alive in our hearts. Thanks all for putting the plants on, they look beautiful..Love, Tricia XOXO and from Big G, thanks

GNO in PC

Shopping at the outlets.  Dinner at Cafe Rio.  Watching Mona Lisa Smile.  Getting in the hot tub.  Everything was perfect except that we suffered through a serious lack of anything chocolate.  For next time, remember:  BRING PEANUT M&M's!!

THE LIST

So I learned a lot about myself by making a list of fun summertime activities.  Jennie was generous enough to take my list and turn it into this darling and fun-inspiring poster.  Thanks!

While emailing the list to Jennie, I started to get antsy.  I wanted to start checking things off right away.  I even wanted to put things on the list that we've already done, just for the satisfaction of checking them off.  I began this internal dialogue about the "rules" of the list, such as how many family members have to be present for an activity to count, when can we officially start, what happens if we don't get it all done, how will I feel if I change my mind and don't want to do these things? 

I was complaining to our piano/violin teacher about how some of my students don't fill out their weekly practice charts.  She has the same problem and told me that some people are list people and some people are not list people.  Not list people.  Hmm...

Apparently I'm a list person.  I like check marks.  I'm totally motivated by empty boxes.  It's the only reason I practice with Freestone some days.  He is a list person too, and he has to check every box.  On the other hand, he categorically refuses to do anything that is not on the list.  That's my fear with my summer list, that I won't want to do the least thing unless it's something I can check off!  I've decided that Memorial Day weekend is the official start to summer, so we can start making those check marks tout suite.  Now I'm worried that we'll get everything done and it won't be a challenge, or we'll do all the fun stuff first and have all the painting projects left at the end.  Geez, maybe I'm not the kind of person who should have a list.  Lists can be dangerous in the wrong hands.  I'm not giving it up, though.  Just seeing that happy little list is awakening a sunny thrill as I look forward to summer break.  Do you know, according to the list, we must make pilgrimages to our ancestral town of Kingston, Utah, and venture into Wyoming.  We have to hit Lagoon and Cherry Hill and plan and execute all kinds of parties.  At Freestone's request, we must watch T.V. and play video games.  Ari says there has to be a sleepover and we're also locked into some redecorating.  Just having a list makes everything an adventure.

Unless it's something that's not on the list.  In that case, I have another list.  It's a blank piece of paper on which we can write all the adventurous things we do that aren't on the original list.  I guess I'm a rule person too.  I like making them up as I go along.  And putting check marks next to them. 

Moms 'n' Muffins

 It's uncanny how Xanthe can keep track of the days when something exciting is coming up.  "Moms and Muffins" was one of the days that was marked in bold on Xanthe's mental calendar.  (Scott kept telling her the teacher was changing it to "Brothers and Broccoli," and Xanth was NOT excited about taking Freestone to class with her and snacking on broccoli.)  I have hardly been at the school to volunteer at all this year, so it was extra fun to be in her environment.  Xanthe has some really excellent teachers who really keep everyone on the ball.  Xanthe has gone through a lot this year.  It all started with reading and the fact that her progress was so slow.  I knew she was struggling in French, but I have been reticent about pulling her out of the program because it just felt like quitting too soon.  I wanted to have her repeat first grade, but after all of the district testing, it was decided that repeating the grade would not be beneficial.  Basically, Xanthe isn't doing poorly enough.  I still think another year of first grade would do wonders for X, but I am a little bit relieved to be moving ahead. We can do it.  When I went with Xanthe to her French class, however, it was apparent that she was completely lost.  Her face turned red, she got hot and started scratching her arms.  I could understand most of what Mme Dean said, so I coaxed Xanthe about what was happening, but she and Mme Dean were on two different planets.


First grade is hard anyway, and poor little Xanthe has been going to school without a complaint each day, only to suffer through hours of confusion.  Nevertheless, through her determination and many hours of help from teachers and aides, Xanthe is starting to piece it all together.  We have been lucky enough to find an affordable French tutor this summer, so that along with lots of reading and math, will give us a jump on second grade.  Scott and I have considered every aspect of the immersion question.  It is such a personal decision, and an emotional one.  There are many factors to weigh, but the bottom line is that we know Xanthe can do it.  After only hearing Chinese for the first year of her life, she has essentially already learned English as a second language.  In this particular situation, we don't want to change course.  Either way, of course, we could be dead wrong.  Only time will tell.  (Free told us he didn't understand anything in first grade either!)


So she'll work harder.  Is that a problem?  Besides, when they sing the pizza song in French, it's adorable!

Falcon Finale

Golda in her role as principal flute, wearing her Rhapsody dress and SBO jacket.

Golda standing to be recognized for academic achievement.  You have to be on the honor roll, get high test scores and have at least one teacher recommendation to get this recognition.  Almost every member of the band was standing by the time all the names were read!

Rhapsody in Blue singing Keane's Somewhere Only We Know

This is the 4.0 picture wall.  Way to go, Ruby!!

We have been looking forward to the Falcon Finale where Fairfield students are recognized for academic achievement.  Each department gives an award to their outstanding student.  Golda wasn't eligible for a Falcon award because she won the Peer Tutor department award last year.  The teacher thought she was in 9th grade.  Oops! :)

Nevertheless, we had the chance to see Golda perform with the symphonic band one last time, sing with Rhapsody one last time, carry out her SBO duties and stand to be recognized for academic excellence.  Sometimes people around me let me know they think our kids are "too busy."  One neighbor even asked me if I thought my daughter didn't have any friends because she's too busy.  Wow.  So the Falcon Finale made me feel vindicated.  Almost every single kid who stood up to receive an award, stood up out of the band, orchestra or choir or came to the stage in a cheerleading uniform or officer jacket.  One boy wasn't there to claim his academic award because he was winning State on the high school soccer team at that moment.  One was absent because he was still in Orlando after winning a national science competition.

So Golda, wearing her various "hats" was a pretty run-of-the-mill honor student in regards to how involved she is.  I was proud of her for being good enough to even be at the Falcon Finale.  Now that I see who she associates with at school, it's no wonder that she races home from a band concert to finish her online high school homework.  It's what all the other kids are doing too!  The girl that won the all-around "First Falcon" award is an SBO with Golda and plays on two high school sports teams.  And she was one of the ten students who were recognized for getting a 4.0 every term of junior high.  We have a lot to live up to, and boy am I grateful!  It makes parenting a lot easier when your child's peers are so exceptional.  I always tell my kids to compare themselves to the people who are doing better than they are.  Usually, that's as easy as looking at the kid sitting next to you.  I love our community.  I love having so much to live up to.  I love that there are so many opportunities for kids to do what they enjoy.  I love our school.  Go Falcons!

Peace

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you:  not as the world giveth give I unto you.  Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

-John 14:27

Summer

Summer Circ

Summer is terrifying me.  I am actively working on twisting my mindset from sheer terror to enthusiasm.  It's not an easy transition, but I'll get there.  Before you judge me, let me just explain my fear:  I have SEVEN kids.  I simply can't "go with the flow."  There are too many different currents.

When I just had a gaggle of little kids, it was fun to relax into summer.  But now some of them are older, and nothing puts the gag in gaggle like teenagers.  It's virtual torture for Golda and Ruby to travel in a pack with the littles.  It's very difficult to hang out at the park with a fourteen year old.  And it's impossible to go clothes shopping with a two-year-old.  So not only do I have to plan for summertime fun with grade school kids, but I have to do it with two babies while working around the teens' schedules, which can involve a lot of driving and some tricky logistics.  So if you're smugly pulling out your sprinkler toys and craft projects and thinking it's going to be a wonderful summer with your wonderful kids, and why can't I just do what you do, imagine doing the sprinkler toy with a hungry baby and a daring toddler while a high school girl rolls her eyes and wishes for some peace and quiet.  Things flood.  Kids go missing.  People get hungry.  Bugs get in, dogs get out, popsicles melt on the porch.  Our quality of life tanks when school ends, basically.  It's just way too much of a good thing. I already spend all my time with some or all of my kids.  You know, some of them get up at six and others don't go to bed until 11:00 or later.  I love it, but it's intense.  Parenting doesn't just happen.  You have to be so mindful.

I will grow to embrace what summer means.  I can't whip summer into submission.  I just have to take off my shoes and become the 19-year-old free spirit who once spent summers in Europe with no plan.  That's hard when you're everybody's everything, 24-7.  One benefit of spending so many long, slow summers abroad, however, is that I know I have enough Bohemian in me to pull it off.  Nobody said it would be easy.  They only said it would be worth it.  Ha ha.  Did anyone really ever say that?  Because if they did, I want to smack them.  It is worth it, though, to approach summer mindfully and with a clear-cut idea of what my intentions are, so that I can be the nice mom I want to be.  These are precious times, and I refuse to be overwhelmed by them.  This summer is MINE!  Bring it on!

Gotcha Day!

 First Glimpse

Six years ago today was an overcast day in Changsha, China.  Not gloomy, but warm and buzzing with anticipation in a city teeming with activity.  Somewhere in the lush, intensely verdant countryside, or perhaps in one of the city or suburbs' three-walled hovels, a man and woman were unaware of the significance of the day for their daughter, born 13 months prior.  She was gone from them, already on her own trajectory through life, her path diverging from theirs day by day as she traveled closer to us through time and space.

Scott and I could barely propel ourselves through the intensity of waiting those last few hours.  We took pictures with all the other families in the lobby of the modern high-rise hotel, then boarded a bus.  We navigated our way through avenues bursting with rickshaws, bikes, Soviet-era cars and trucks piled high with produce or scrap metal.  We arrived at the city building, a mass of nerves, cameras ready.  We had a daughter we were about to meet!  And then, as we stepped off the elevator, there she was. 

We weren't supposed to see her then.  She was to be in another room, but we were early and the nannies were still waiting, relaxing, cuddling their frightened little charges.  Xanthe was sitting on the orphanage director's lap, drinking water out of a plastic cup.  All eight of the girls were dressed in identical pink outfits, but we knew which one was ours.  We recognized her from two blurry pictures we had been staring at for seven weeks.  At the same time, you don't want to fall hopelessly in love if there is a chance you're wrong, so we tried not to look at her.  We marveled at Xanthe's every movement out of the corner of our eyes.

At last our names were called and the director, a kind and tired-looking man, handed Xanthe to me.  She was somehow rigid and limp at the same time.  She was quiet and curious, staring into our strange faces and grabbing at Scott's glasses.  She was a beautiful little baby, but she was also pale and sick, coughing and pulling on her ear.  We were handed some medicine and given some instructions in Chinese.  Fortunately we had brought antibiotics with us and administered the first dose right away.  The feeling in the room was one of wonder and awe.  One baby, Kaitlyn, was crying but her mom and dad weren't ruffled.  They just held her as she screamed.   For the parents, it was the joyous culmination of years of waiting.  For our babies, it was the most terrifying day of their short lives.

Since that day six years ago, it has been quite the wild ride with Xanthe.  I could never have prepared myself for how ingrained the damage from an infancy of partial neglect would be.  I told myself she was well-cared-for and she was, but she was in an orphanage.  It's not the same.  She was hungry, she was alone, she was bored, and it was irreparably stressful.  Yet we know that her nanny loved her and smiled at her and held her, and we know it could have been so much worse.  We were just profoundly grateful that day six years ago, to have her in our arms.  After six years, there are things we know we can't "fix," but it's OK.  Xanthe's experiences are part of who she is.  She is very, very strong and we have come to appreciate that because it is what kept her safe until we could get there.  She is very, very inquisitive and we have learned to love that because it is what will make her successful when she faces limitations.  She is very, very demanding and we can understand that because she had to be a fighter to reach us.

Sweet little Xanthe has made Scott and me stretch and learn in ways we never wanted to and never knew we could.  It's beyond miraculous that Xanthe is here with us, that this was God's plan, and that we were able to somehow bring it to fruition.  God is good, and he knows us.  He was with Xanthe before we were.  Right now, I can't think of anything more incredible, unless it's the thought that Xanthe is ours forever and she'll never walk alone.

The Dinner

And the crowning event of Felshaw's 50-year celebration:  Dinner at the Joseph Smith Building.  We left out three littlest kids with Bruce and Marlene and took what we dubbed the FF's (first four) to dowtown Salt Lake.  On the way in, it was just a beautiful spring night as we stopped to admire the temple grounds.

The view from the Roof restaurant was just gorgeous from every direction.  We could see the state capitol and Nana commented that she met her "sweet husband, Jim" there.  From the next window, we could see the Salt Lake temple where most of us had gotten married.  (Or sealed, if you eloped to Switzerland like SOME people and got married in a castle!) At the buffet, I cautioned the little kids to only eat the "expensive stuff" and to avoid any form of mac 'n' cheese.  Nana set the standard when she got dessert first.  Right on!

We were entertained by law stories from Bill (Felshaw) and Rod, Emily's father and the president of the Utah State Bar.  He had a tale about a client's prison break and Bill told of his most memorable case.  I won't butcher the details here, but it was one of many memorable moments over the course of the "first" fifty years of his law career.  I asked Dad if tomorrow would be anticlimactic going to the office.  I really think his enthusiasm was genuine when he said no, it would still be just as thrilling.

We spent enough time going back for more dessert that we got to admire the view of the city at night as well as during the evening.  It was fun being with just the older kids.  "Heaven," Golda called it.  Golda, it's only heaven if we're all there.  Huh?  Huh?  Right? :)

It's been a fun couple of days, taking time out of our routine to really celebrate a milestone.  We sent an announcement out to a bunch of Dad's friends asking them to write a little note of appreciation, congratulations or friendship.  We got back over a hundred letters.  He began opening them a few at a time yesterday.  I've been surprised at the specific and genuine things people have said.  As a result of reading all these heartfelt sentiments, I have determined to write letters to people who have had an impact on me.  It takes an occasion like this to act as a catalyst for expressing thanks.  But sometimes there is no occasion and then it's too late.  I'm sure I have people to thank and acknowledge, who have had an impact on my life as my dad has had on so many others'.  So tomorrow I pull out the stationery.  Tonight, I digest the prime rib!