The End of a Utah Chapter

 

 These were our last days in Utah.  It was a challenging move.  It began by looking at every thing we owned, one piece at a time, and then determining if we were going to take it with us.  To meet the criteria it had to fit in the back of our mini van and be to difficult to replace.  What would fit?  What could I live without? What did I really need in order to meet my goal of making a happy family and giving my children a happy childhood?  It was a tedious process, but was a process that taught me about myself and what was most important to me.  And I have to say it is so liberating to own less stuff and lead a simpler life.

That was just the first step and it totally overwhelmed me.  I think the hardest part was figuring out how to pack the car in the most efficient way.  Mark was working a lot so it was me and the kids.  That is when Annie and Allen came to save me.  They helped me pack the car and they helped me with the kids so that I could do it.  I will love them forever for that.

 It was fun to see the kids after all the furniture was gone to make play houses with the couch cushions that we would be throwing away.  They had fun with what little we had.  I was going crazy.  A kitchen table,  toys, and couches make living at home much easier.  My strategy was to leave the house.

What Heaven Absolutely Must Have

Master W has been weaning himself.  Maybe it is a blessing.  Knowing that this might be my last baby, I don't know if I would ever have the strength to choose to do this.  So, maybe it is mercy that this child is choosing to do it on his own. Someone asked in exasperation if I wanted to nurse him when he was in Kindergarten.  That imagery even makes me chuckle.  Of course not.  It isn't that I want to nurse a child when they are older, it is just that this time has been so sweet it is hard to see it end.

What do I love about it?  I love his sweet dependence on me and how he looks to me to deliver him from hunger. I love the gratitude I see in his eyes because I have heard his cry and will feed him.  I love the  power that I have to soothe and comfort him.  I love that his wriggly body sits still and just lets me hold him, look at him, rock him, and take time for him. I love to be close to him.  I love that it connects him to only me, something that only I can to for him.  It binds him to me. I love that I have to slow down to do this for him.  I love how it connects me to him, that I can't go anywhere for long without him.  It binds me to him.  In some ways it has been the simplest phase of motherhood to me.  I feel like I am many times a day showing him my absolute love and devotion in a way that convinces him.  And I admit it, it is nice to burn calories while I am lying down holding a baby.  It goes by so quickly.  Nursing a baby is just a season of life--a moment.

Wondering if I might not ever be able to nurse my own little baby again has brought upon me this deep melancholy.  I was trying to make sense of it all with a dear friend. She reminded me of the miracle that I have had three babies despite my fertility challenges.  That didn't make me feel better.

Aren't there just some things in life that tasting it only makes you want more?  Like a perfectly baked cookie, an exhilarating hike in a beautiful setting, a heart-felt conversation with a friend, feeling God speak to you through the power of the Holy Ghost.  Who experiences these things and then says to themselves, "Ok, I am done.  I got to taste it.  I am grateful for what I got."  I don't.  I say, "That was really good.  What can I do to have more of that?" When I experience the wonderful things in this life it only wets my appetite and makes me want more.

This is how I feel about being a mother.  Being a mother has been the most satisfying experience of all of my life.  Yet, strangely it has awoken a joy and love within me that I don't think will ever be satisfied.  I don't know if it is possible for me to ever feel "done."

I have had the question asked me by a friend that loved food if I thought that we would get to eat in heaven. Going to Hawaii and Yosemite has made me wonder if this is not what heaven will look like.  In heaven will we have beautiful nature, music that makes your hear soar, and delicious food? Though I have loved these things in this life, I think that I could abide the thought of anyone of these things missing in heaven.  What I can not endure is to not be a mother, to have an end to that joy and to not taste it ever again.  And so I say, "Please God, let me be a mother.  I am not done yet."

The wonderful thing is that through the restored Gospel  I know that this is exactly what heaven will be like...

Red Butte Gardens

Enjoying National Arbor Day at Red Butte Gardens.  I love to be in nature.  I measure how good a day was by if I got to have a good scripture study, if I got to connect with each child doing something fun, and if I was in nature.

Miss R is absolutely obsessed with Snow White.  We tell the story to her over and over again.  I try to change some parts or add details to make it intersting. I usually change and add a lot of detail about what Snow White makes for dinner for the dwarfs.  She doesn't call them dwarfs, they are hi hos.  And they don't live in the cottage, they live in the rillage.

Hi Hos- the dwarfs
Rillage- village, but what she means is cottage

To make Mr W happy, just follow him around in nature and don't tell him no.  Let him go where ever he wants and let him explore.  And while you are following him, if you want to see something cute, say his nickname, "Twister!" in a voice that lets him no that you want him to stop.  You will see his head jut forward, both arms cock back like he is trying to catch a baton, and his little legs move as fast as they can go.  If you had the view of the front of them you would see a huge smile and fear that his mother might catch him.

Arches National Park

We were able to sneak away and go to our favorite Winter/Cool Spring get-way...Arches National Park.

Conqueror

Ms R is imagining that the rocks are a home.  Here she is going to sleep on her "bed." She surprised me most of all.  She loved being there all day.   She liked playing in the sand, making imaginary homes and forts in nature, she like seeing the surroundings, she loved being with her family, and when she was getting tired of hiking all I had to do was imagine with her.  She did the entire Delicate Arch hike on her own  all of the way up and back.  The imaginary game that we played was that Dicky Duck, Squirrel  Nutkin, Bunny Rabbit, Snow White, Rapunzel were all hiking with her.  I was all of their voices.  She fed them snacks and carried them in her hands and had conversations with them all up the trail.  Most of the conversations were centered on her taking them to Lake Tahoe and what they would do there.  She is so fun.

Mr. W checking out to see the face attached to that hand.  "Wait, are you my mom?"  He was happy being outside all day long. This was his dream.

This Dad and this boy need nature.

When the little ones got sick of hiking we just pulled out the sand toys and I played with them while the others finished the hike.

What Rachie is Teaching Me About Motherhood

How to Not Hold a Grudge
The Ms. R is extremely dramatic.  And I think to myself, "Good for her!  Require some work out of your mom and dad." She was such an easy baby and I think I can empathize with the dramatics.  I was the same when I was younger.  She has big feelings.  When Rach starts crying she gets carried away in the emotion of if all and doesn't even remember what it is about.  I'll ask her why she is crying and she'll say something that I know is totally unrelated like needing to see her cousin Charlotte more.  Here is an example of a conversation that I had with her in her in the care the other day while she was crying.

Mom: "I like to be happy."

Rach: "I like to be sad."

Mom: "Why do you like to be sad?"

Rach:  "Because I don't know my letters!" (absolutely nothing to do with it)

Rach:  "You destroyed my life, you destroyed my life!"  (The dramatics)

Rach:  "I wanted Charlotte to love me and not you!" (Somehow it always comes back to Charlotte.)


Rach:  "You aren't a little girl, mom!  She wanted me to go in her room and not you!" (A little jealousy.)

A minute pause.

Rach:  "I just love you." (We always end this way.  Just give her one minute is all.)

How to Gently Say No
Sometimes if she is crying I will pretend like I am crying.  Her nurturing personality always falls for this one.  She will immediately turn her attention to me, take both of her pudgy hands and gently cup my face with her hands and say these exact words in a very happy voice, "I have a good idea!"  Then she will tell me what we could do that she thinks will make me happy.  Sometimes she will be mad at me and tell me I can't play with her toy or something.  I will do the fake cry.  Immediately, she turns her attention to making me happy. Her scowl is erased from her face and she cups my face with her hands and says in a happy voice, "I have a good idea!  You could play with it later!"   I have tried to copy her when I have to say something hard to her like we can't go to the park.  If she is sad, I try to show to her that same tenderness that she shows me.  And so, you could say, that my mother-hearted daughter is teaching me how to mother.

How to Correct Bad Behavior
One other thing that Rachie does that drives me nuts is that she is always hitting and kicking her younger brother.  It drives me crazy.  I try everything to get it to stop.  It is torture for me.  I am a very protective mother and I hate to see a child picked on or hurt.  And so to see one  adored child that doesn't like the adored baby and does things to hurt him is like you are getting ripped in two.  You want to spank the toddler and reassure and love her all at the same time.  (As a side note, I don't believe in spanking, but I am frequently tempted.)

She acted up again at Aunt Tay' house.  I told her that I was disappointed in a very even voice.  I think that word may not be a word that my nearly perfect sister-in-law would choose.  She told me a story of a little boy that hit a lot in nursery and the mother would just react by gently saying that he shouldn't do that.  I guess I really believe in that kind of mothering.  I think that regardless of what I do, yell, punish, whatever, Rachie is going to hit William this year.  I need to choose what I want to say over and over and over again to her.  Eventually she will get it  What will it be?  "You have disappointed me." Or, "Stop! I am so sick of you doing that! You are so mean!"  Or could I choose something more like, "We don't hit because you are a nice sister."  I mean really, if the result is the same, why not program them to believe that they are good?


How Your Dress Effects the Way You View Yourself
Rach lives in her Snow White dress.  When she can't wear that one it is one of her fancy church dresses that she refers to as her Cinderella dress.  It is a major conflict and travesty if she can't wear one of those dresses, but I think that I am beginning to understand why.  She usually always demands that everyone refer to her as Snow White.  One day I called her Snow White when she didn't have her dress on.  She told me that she wasn't Snow White.  I began to notice a trend.  She demanded everyone to call her the name of the person that she was dressed as.  She believes that when she is dressed as Snow White that she actually becomes Snow White.  I wonder if we all are more influenced by how we dressed than what we realize.

Visiting Granny

  

Granny loves to take the kids out to lunch.  She loves to see the great grands happy.


She likes for Master I to choose the place and he chose Fat Cats.  The Fat Cats had a Costa Vida inside.


It is always important to choose a place that has "toys" for the kids to play on.


Later that evening we went to ice cream at the creamery.  We also went to the store so that she could buy the kids their own bag of candy.  These are Granny's requirements:  kids choose eating establishment, kids eat whatever they want to order, kids play on the toys, kids get a bag of treats, kids go to the store for more treats or toys, kids feed the ducks at the BYU botany pond with the bread that she has been saving, and she watches while the kids play at Vivian Park up Provo Canyon.  If she can have all of this joy by bestowing love on her great grands while hopefully catching snippets of meaningful conversation  with one grandchild (now parent) about how good the Lord has been to her in her life, she will feel the Holy Ghost and she will feel that her life is complete.  I was talking with Master I about how much she gives and loves. Her latest idea is that she will give her great grandchildren $100 dollars if they will read a book of scripture all of the way through.  This is a woman that detests spending money on herself.  I told Master I that it is almost like she says to her grandkids in her actions, "Take all that I have, all that I have earned and saved over the years...just promise me that you will be good and be happy."

And she has won the hearts of all of these children.  Just the other day Rachel told me that she wanted to live with the grandma that gives her candy (Granny) and that has scratches (wrinkles) on her face and hands.  I want to grow old and care for nothing but my God and my children and grandchildren. But, could I do it without the scratches?

What Have We Been Up To Lately

 Isaiah insisted that I go to his school for school lunch on the day that they served meatball sandwiches.  He has been raving about this to me for some time now. This is his favorite meal.  I was amazed at how good it was.  Meatball sub on wheat bread, fresh peppers, fresh blueberries, fresh grapes, milk, oven baked potato wedges...the best $1.35 I ever spent.

The other thing that I have been doing a lot lately is walking home with Isaiah and his buddies from school.  I have even taken them hiking.  They can't get enough of it.  They love walking home, trying to beat the bus, and devouring their hard earned popsicle.  The walk two miles up hill.  I love working in exercise to time spent with my children.  And I simply can't get enough of time outside in this gorgeous Spring weather.

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 We had a really fun ward Family Home Evening at This is the Place Heritage Park.  It was very fun, except for the incident with the insolent billy goat.  He walked up to Rach and swung his head to knock her over.  It worked.  I ran over to her and yelled at the goat and prayed he would be intimidated by my increased height.  I held her and tried to calm her by telling her that it was just Big Billy Goat Gruff and he thought she was the troll.

The single best piece of news is that we were able to motivate Miss R to keep dry underpants through the night with a promised prize of a Snow White Toy.  Here she is in Walmart with her reward.  I met a lady selling her book in Costco about teaching children to overcome challenges by changing the way that they think and taking control of their thoughts.  She told the story of how she had a son that was 7 that wet the bed.  What finally helped him to overcome it was that she would scratch his back at night and she would tell him how he was going to wake up the next morning dry. They visualized the whole thing together.  I tried it out with Rach and it worked.  But, I have yet to recreate the same success.  I am going to really focus on doing this with her though.

Other than that, we have been trying to sell stuff on line, cooking, cleaning, reading library books, visiting with family, and trying not to think about Dad's looming test.  He just took it last weekend.  For the week before his test he couldn't eat.  He would eat breakfast out of duty, skip lunch, and feel too sick (from stress) to eat by the time dinner rolled around.  I couldn't wait for him to finally take this darn test and go back to normal life of eating, sleeping, and enjoying other luxuries of life.  Isaiah has prayed for him a lot that he would do well on the test.  I think in the end this test will prove to be a blessing for our family.  Mark has been under such pressure. This makes the kids and I feel compassion for him.  We try to lighten his load and he feels loved.  In the end, we are blessed with a passed test as well as closer relationships.  This is the dream that we are living.

An interesting thing has happened to my heart as Mark has spent a lot of extra time with his colleagues at work.  I love them so much more than I used to and so does he.  We see them as vulnerable and desiring the same things that we desire.  Ther

Molases Crinkles aka Gingersnaps

My husband grew up loving gingersnaps. In their family the cookie was affectionately called "molasses crinkles." I love cookies. They are probably my favorite dessert. But, I am very picky. They should be soft and chewy on the inside and crunchy on the outside. They shouldn't be flat, but they shouldn't be so puffy they resembe a ball either. They must be thick.  It must be the type of cookie that bakeries get away with charging two dollars for.  After making these cookies many times I have come up with a recipe that fits my requirements. My husband was quite pleased.

 Please note that the inside is underdone while the outside is crisp.

1 1/2 Cups of Butter or Margarine

1 Cup brown sugar

1 Cup White sugar

1 Cup molasses

3 eggs

1 tsp salt

1 tsp cream of tartar

1 tsp cloves

2-3 tsp ginger

2 tsp cinnamon

4 tsp baking soda

6 Cups flour

Mix. Refridgerate dough.  Bake at 350 for 10-15 minutes depending on size

Happy Easter

 

Searching for the gigantic family Easter basket

 Found the basket

 Loved the Snow White toys!!!!!!! 

 Loving the little chicks at Aunt Tay's House

 Coloring Easter Eggs with the Cousins

 Hunting for the eggs

 Playing in the backyard

 

Happy Easter!

Sandra Jean!!!

I was cleaning out the car and letting the kids run around on the grass.  Master W kept trying to run out into the road. I kept calling out for him, trying to get him to listen to me.  I guess that Miss R could feel the seriousness of the situation because she piped in too.  She yelled at her little brother in a stern voice, "Sandra Jean!!!"  I don't think I have ever used that name for her, but I have heard Isaiah several times get mad at her and call her by her middle name.  I realized when she yelled that name and her younger brother that she didn't understand that was her middle name.  She just understood that was the name that you yell when you are really made at someone.  And so it seemed perfectly appropriate to yell, "Sandra Jean, " to your younger brother that was going out into the middle of the road.

Confessions of a Closet NPR Fan

I consider myself to be very conservative, but I listen to NPR.  I can't get enough of it. My appetite started in college of learning and pondering about "...things which are at home, things which are abroad; the wars and the perplexities of the nations (Doctrine and Covenants 88:79)." My appetite has only grown and listening in the car while I am out and about is such an easy way for me to get news.  I frequently have a different perspective than the ones that I listen to, and if it is offensive I turn it off.  But, generally I love learning about the perplexities of the nations and the thoughts our citizens have about those issues.

Anyway,while I was in the car today, on the the way to go shopping. I caught the end of the  Dianne Rheem Show.  They were discussing motherhood.  They were talking about how when one becomes a mother one has a feeling of a loss of identity.  I did only catch the end, but I was disappointed in this conversation because it seemed to present their perspective as the only reality.  I wished I could call in, but I couldn't, so I have to write instead.  This is my perspective:

I understand the feeling of loosing one's identity and I suppose I felt that to some degree, but I experienced the opposite in to such a greater degree.  When I became a mother I felt like I felt like I found my identity much more than having the feeling that I lost my identity. I  gave expression to my deepest innate urges to nurture, to love,  to build relationships,  and to build people.  As I have grown into this responsibility, I have said to myself, "This is who I really am." I don't just mean my life's work, I mean the identity of my spirit.  I mean who I was before I came to Earth and had a body and who I will be after I die. I mean my eternal nature.  When I became a mother I found who I was and who I would always be.

I find motherhood to be extremely satisfying. It was more satisfying to give in this way than any other endeavor to do these same things in different realms. If I wasn't a mother I would be a teacher or I would care for the sick because I love to teach and care for others.  I plan on teaching when my work as a mother is no longer a full-time job and teaching is how I made my living before staying at home.  Teaching is satisfying and fulfilling, but for me, being a mother is more so.  I think the effects of a mother are farther reaching, the love is more intense, and the sacrifice is greater.  I cannot imagine having work feel more fulfilling than what I have felt in motherhood.

I, like everyone, have had discouraging moments when I am doing the absolutely mundane and I wonder, "What am I doing with my life?" I have also had plenty of my husband's colleagues look at me and think or ask outright the same question, "What are you doing with your life?"   I have pondered the best way to explain why I have decided to spend my life changing diapers, making dinners, cleaning a house, etc. to someone that is puzzled by my choice.   Some people can accept that staying at home with a child might be the best thing for the child, but how it could be the best thing for the mother seems unfathomable. For me, the answer is in your definition of the purpose of life.  Is the purpose of life to get money, to acquire the fine things of life, to travel, to have fame, to be entertained, or to have success in your chosen career? I don't believe that any of these things are the purpose of our lives, but we can give our lives to these things unknowingly.  I believe that the purpose of life is to become more like God so that we can return to live with Him someday with our families.  I don't believe that there is any endeavor that gives me the opportunity to become more like my Father in Heaven than being a mother on this Earth.

My Life

I blog, not to so much to connect with other people, as to connect with myself.  I want to record and ponder  the most special parts of life that make me laugh or feel a deep feeling of love.  I am afraid that if I don't record it I won't remember it.  I am afraid that if I don't record it I won't have spent the amount of time that I need to in order to understand of feel the significance of what is happening.  I am afraid that because of the quick pace of life,  if I don't record funny things that I might smile at something funny instead of laughing so hard that I cry.  Writing and recording is a way for me to savor as well as remember the wonderful parts of my life right now. 

I also think of the grandparents.  Somehow they are right there with me in cherishing my children and valuing the happenings of my very ordinary life.  There are even a very few siblings and friends  that somehow love me and take joy in connecting with me through this boring, yet intimate picture of my life.  I am always shocked that they took the time to read, let alone enjoyed my ramblings!  And I love them for loving me.  I even imagine my children reading my  blog journaling one day and coming to know me, understanding how hard I tried, how much I failed and repented, and how greatly I loved them. 

Master W

I wonder why I can't seem to keep naughty things out of his mouth and keep the good things in.  There is so little he can eat that it kills me when he spits out the things that I so carefully prepare for him to eat. The things he eats are usually expensive and took a lot of thought to prepare.  He is going through a phase where everything that I put in his mouth he pushes it out again and picks it up with his fingers.  The irony is that I am always fishing out of his mouth marbles, Rachie's hair elastics, and other random things foraged from the ground.

Princess

This is the new name that she has declared.  She either asks me to call her this or Snow White.  Everyday she demands to either wear her fanciest church dresses or her Snow White costume.

I very carefully tried to help her to fall in love with Snow White.  I love her character.  I can't say the same for all of the Disney princesses.  I love how modestly she is dressed.  I love that she doesn't have a chip on her shoulder or a rebellious stand off with loving parents.  I love that the dwarfs love her because she is so loving to them.  They appreciate the food she makes and the home that she makes a haven.  Master I asked why I loved Snow White so much and I told him, "Because she is a mother."

At this point Miss R piped in indignantly, "No her is not! Her is a princess!"

At the park this week Miss R found a new friend to play with.  I was helping Master W navigate the play structure.  Then I picked up a little on the conversation she was having with her friend.

Friend:  "But your hair isn't black.
Miss R:  "Yes it is."
Friend:  Turns to me and sincerely asks, "Is she really Snow White."
Miss R: "Yes, I am really Snow White.  I don't have any other name!"

Miss R gave me a kiss on the cheek yesterday while she was eating croutons.  She was staring at my cheek afterwords and said, "That's my food on there!"

Miss R is constantly hitting, pushing over, kicking, and wrestling Master W.  The part I don't understand is how contrite she is each time and promises, "I will never do it again!"  She loves to playfully wrestle with him as well.  When she does she calls him, "Angerdog."  I think that she got the name from not understanding what Master I was meaning when he was pushing her on the swing and yelling underdog.

You know it is time to dye your hair again when your daughter gasps with delight while she is brushing your hair and exclaims, "Your hair is turning brown like mine!"  That is what Miss R said to me today.

Master I
We are finishing the fourth Work and the Glory book.  We both are loving it.  He wants to see Missouri so much after imagining in his mind what has happened there for the past book. I don't know if I have ever felt more loved by anyone more than by him. I am really trying to help him to not fight with the Princess.  They are making up for the years that he was an only child and I didn't have to worry about sibling rivalry.

Me
I am looking forward with great longing towards this summer.  I can't wait to be in Valencia in the pool with the kids or playing in Penryn and not have to worry about packing a house, selling stuff, wrapping up a calling, doing homework, baking bread, reaching out to others.  I enjoy all of these aspects of my life, but I love the contrast of the simplicity of summer.  I love being in other people's homes with my kids because I feel like I can concentrate solely on being a mother and not having other distractions and tasks.

I can't wait to do the cross-country trip with my dad.  I am sure that it will be a ton of work, but I can't wait! I can't wait to see the Church history sites.  I can't wait for the adventure of it all and to see how the kids do.  Weird...I know.  I can't wait to try all of the movies, snacks, and games I have thought of in order to make it doable for the kids.  I can't wait to give Master I all of the food money and seeing how he rations it.  I can't wait to see my sis in Tennessee and all of those kids that I love.  I can't wait to eventually explore a new home in Philadelphia.  There is so much work in order to be able to get to summer break, but I guess that will make it all the more sweet.  The hardest task will be fitting everything into our car and getting rid of everything else.  It is an enormous amount of work and enough to make me swear off ever buying another thing again.  Of course Mark is Thoreau and wants to enjoy the spirituality of the simple life.  He welcomes all of this as a great adventure.  And I have to admit, I am really excited about this part as well.

Master Mark
He is a slave to boards.  He is always studying and at work late doing review sessions to prepare for this big test.  We are going to Arches National Park next weekend.  This is his favorite place on Earth. I hope that it is everything that he has been dreaming of for the past year.

General Conference

We had our traditional conference picnic with my brothers right by temple square between sessions on Saturday.  They had an extra ticket so one of us could attend.  Master I said he would really like to go, so he got to be the lucky one.  To my delighted surprise, master I loved conference this year.

Not too many conferences ago we started trying to do the conference  packets with games for children that have become so popular.  What ended up working the best for us is just drawing a picture of something from the talk of each of the apostles.  Master I still remembers the past conference talks from doing that.  This year we also started having a special word  like “faith” that if they heard they would get a fruit snack.  Both of these strategies have been very motivating.  But this year he wasn’t interested in drawing pictures, he wanted to take notes.  He listened to every talk of every session intently and took notes.  He wanted to make sure that he was in his suit and that he looked really nice, even when were at home for some sessions.   He sung the intermediate hymns at the top of his lungs with gusto.  He went to the Sunday morning session with me in the Joseph Smith Memorial Building.  At the end of the conference he asked me what my favorite talks were.  And he had his own favorites!  He loved President Packer and President Uchtdorf.  During some talks he would comment to me or ask me questions.  It was surreal.  It was such companionship to me.

I looked at him after Sunday am session and said, “I am trying to figure you out.  I believed that some day you would love conference, but I thought it would be when you were 18 not 8.  Where is the boy that told me that he was going to kill me with a knife and throw me in a pit (the idea came from Joseph in Egypt)?  Or the boy that walked into the store with his sword and when I urged him to keep up with me he told me that he needed to fight his friends (peers) first?”  Master I just laughed at it, but I marveled all day long.

Then I looked at Miss R and asked myself how can I do with her what I did with him.  What did I do?  I wonder if it was that I got a grip on his heart one day at a time of creating train tracks, reading books, and playing games.  He grew out of those infernal behaviors, but he didn’t grow out of the relationship that I had with him.  So the behaviors fell away naturally and I was left holding his heart.  So what will I do with Miss R?  I will continue to try to persuade her to behave, but I will keep a firm grip on her heart, knowing that she will outgrow and what will be left is my relationship with her. 

I also feel such an urgency to take advantage of R’s childhood, as I did with Master I, by playing with her, imagining with her, making her days fun, working with her,  caring for her when she is sick, making her yummy foods, reading to her, talking to her, and singing to her.  It is hard to see in the moment that I am having any effect.  Building a relationship and teaching a child about God is like trying to build a fire in nature the old fashioned way.  I have this image in my mind from the movie Cast Away of me as Tom Hanks,  on my hands and knees, rolling a stick between my hands to create friction, and gently blowing the delicate flickers of light.  Each morning it feels like I am back where I started from…on my hands and knees trying with my blistered hands to make a fire; wondering if it is working.  I remember feeling this way with Master I and I feel this way with Rach.  The only difference with Rach is that I know what happens when you gently try to nurture little embers to fires.  With Master I it is a fire that I no longer have control of.  I stand back and watch the flames in awe.

April Fool's Day

I made cupcakes that were really meatloaf with pink colored mashed potatoes.  I had such hope that the kid's would be so tricked.  It was a bit of work to prepare it without their seeing it and to tell the truth, it wasn't all that funny.  Master I just said, "Huh, the frosting tastes like mashed potatoes."  Miss R didn't even care what it tasted like....it was pink! My only hope on having expended all of the effort on that one was that they will look back on it and think it was funny or fun. 

Easter Joy School

We grew wheat grass last week as we were talking about the joys of nature.  We used our grass this week to make garden tombs.  They made roses out of starburst, trees out of totsie rolls and rice crispies, and garden tombs out of egg cartons.  The stone that was rolled away was a little cookie.

 

We also made little nests out of rice crispy treats with eggs inside and a little bird.