Moving East

I sent Mike a text today saying, "I think we should move to the east coast."  Although he replied that he'd start packing, I'm not quite sure it will all pan out.

This is a beautiful, beautiful part of the country.  Especially with flower beds full of tulips and trees in bright blossom and bloom.  As I wandered around Mount Vernon (George Washington's home) I couldn't help but ponder again the concern that God made a mistake not having me born in a different time.  Even Megan, with her love of fashion, style and pop-culture lamented, "I would have loved to live in this property in that time period."

I had to tear Luke away from the Blacksmith and outdoor stables to take a tour of Washington's actual home.  He would much rather have sat and watched the Blacksmith make an axe, but his grandmother had other plans for him.  The grounds of Mount Vernon are spectacular.  The Potomac River, the trees, the buildings, the quaintness of it all is simply beautiful.  My favorite place to visit today.

Mount Vernon also provided a great laugh at my expense.  As I walked in to use the restroom, I noticed four urinals lined up against the wall.  In that first split second, I thought it odd.  In the second half of that same second, I made a quick dart for the door.  I opened the door just as Megan glanced my way.  Sheer horror was on her face when she saw I was exiting the men's bathroom.  In my defense, the signs were not as clear as I think they could have been.

I felt patriotism and pride to be a part of this great country as we toured Ford's theater and watched a short play about Lincoln's assassination.  Although the kids grimaced with dismay when I told them that I would like them to both completely memorize the Gettysburg Address when we return to Utah.  Luke was most impressed with the 'tiny' gun Lincoln was shot with.

I enjoyed a quick jog over the bridge to Georgetown this morning, and then stopped at Trader Joes for a gallon of milk.  How fun to live in a city such as this.

We finally made it over to the Barlow Center (LDS church owned building for BYU interns) where Laurie & Steve serve as missionaries.  I think Luke was relieved to see Grandma and Grandpa's offices and finally grasp the concept that they really are missionaries.  That Steve does more than chauffeur us around DC, and Laurie does more than answer all of our history questions and snap pictures of her family tourists.

With Laurie's endless stream of knowledge, came the knowledge to visit the little-known attraction of the NY Ave Presbyterian church where Abraham Lincoln attended church.  I loved it.  I love the history that is here.  (And I don't even usually like history!)  And on that note, I am absolutely amazed with Laurie's endless stream of knowledge regarding history, art and geography.  Amazing.  I spend my time listening carefully to all she says, and then carefully executing an escape before I am asked anything important.  Megan is good to have around.  Megan has somehow been blessed with more of Mike's brain than mine.

Luke on the other hand...
Well, let's put it this way:

We spent almost three hours at Mount Vernon today.  GEORGE WASHINGTON'S home. Pictures, movies, and exhibits surrounded us the entire time.  As we exited the building at the end of our time there, the famous picture of George Washington kneeling in prayer greeted us at the top of the stairs.  Luke eagerly pointed it out, recognizing it from one we have at home, and one that hangs here in Laurie & Steve's apartment.  "Oh yeah. I see it."  I responded to Luke.  To which he replied,

"Who is that anyways?"

At least nobody but me heard.

And now it is bedtime and I don't think I'm the only one that is tired and ornery...
Happy travels!

Culture, Laughs & Tears

I'll warn you this is slightly long, and mostly for the benefit of my dear husband at home.  But when my uptight mothering personality requests my children write in a 'Washington DC journal' each night, I should respectfully do likewise.

To start the day off, the tooth fairy not only paid a visit to Ellie while I was gone, but left her a $1.00 under her pillow. Usually the tooth fairy leaves 50 cents, so good for toothless little Ellie! I'm over the fact I wasn't home for her first loose tooth, now I just hope the gap doesn't fill in until after I return next week. (Hopefully the dear husband has procured plenty of toothless grin snapshots.)

Our second day in Washington DC has created just as many memories, (if not more!) than the first.

I had an enjoyable two hour wait in line at the foot of the Washington Monument this morning. And I say that in all seriousness. What a beautiful sight to see the sun rise over the US Capitol. I enjoyed a nice two hour visit with a few people in line by me; the PGA Professional, a friendly man from Massachusetts, an impressive, mature fifteen year old from South Carolina, and the lone twelve year old from North Carolina left by his father to secure his family's tickets for the day. The only downside of the whole wait was when a few of us were discussing the height of the Washington Monument. I was quite eager to share my newfound knowledge of the height and so I excitedly declared, "It is 555 feet and 55 inches." The polite man from Massachusetts, and the more sarcastic, yet kind-spirited PGA professional questioned the 55 inches part." Oh yes, I replied while embarrassedly laughing, "I mean, 555 feet and FIVE inches."

I feel slightly guilty about sharing my opinion out-loud about my father-in-law's offer to cook chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, but not guilty enough to eat them.

Luke's incessant desire to enforce the "No coins please" signs at all fountains and pools, and thus I am repeatedly heard, "Don't touch the water."

Megan brought a sore toe to DC with her.  The soreness and pain has obviously exasperated with walking.  Add to it, she stubbed it in the apartment yesterday evening barefoot, followed by some band-aid first aid by Grandpa, she chose to wear flip-flops on our evening excursion so the foot wasn't confined.  Do you know how many people walk the streets and ride the city buses and get on and off the metro in DC?  A LOT!  I think everyone in DC (including Grandma!) have bumped or stepped on Megan's toe.  I LOVE Megan, but she isn't exactly my favorite person in my family to have an illness or ailment..............

Luke's much anticipated visit to the Air and Space Museum was dampened by the 165 degree temperature inside and the sixty five million visitors inside at the same time as us. By this time in the afternoon, we were all very tired and exhausted. Megan, having visited the museum before, perused the gift shop, while I faithfully followed Luke through each exhibit he led me through. I was able to take a quick catnap standing up while Luke watched a WWI airplane movie, and when it came to my attention that he had an absolute fascination with airplanes, I found myself praying he would never grow up and become a pilot.

Megan is still the self-professed navigator, even though she gets confused and slightly flustered when someone corrects her on which way exactly is north.

Though we were all exhausted, hot and tired, we dutifully met up with Grandma at the National Gallery of Art. It turned out to be a pleasant experience, although Luke saw far more statues and pictures of naked ladies than I think he liked. Finally, with a perplexed expression, he turned to me and said, "This is inappropriate." He only asked about three hundred and sixty nine times 'how much longer?', It was well and truly the most cultured experience thus far of Luke's life. I'm not sure who was more impressed at the gift store, my mother-in-law or myself when Luke picked out a print from a famous artist to hang in his room at home. (And in all his sweetness, he used some of his money to buy a $1.58 Monet print for me that I had been admiring.)

My in-laws who are currently serving as LDS missionaries here teaching institute (religious classes) to local university students.  Due to the end of the semester, my in-laws have a little break from their typical missionary duties.  Of course senior missionaries have much more lee-way and personal time than our typical young 19 and 21 year old missionaries.  Luke however, is slightly puzzled as to exactly what Laurie and Steve are doing on their mission!  The good thing: it is probably making Luke very excited and anxious to serve a mission of his own: it's easy! Luke is thinking.  The bad thing:  Obviously, he is getting an unclear depiction of the service his grandparents truly are performing.

Megan has been in a constant quest to search out every gift shop and souvenir booth in the surrounding areas.  Her quest has thus far not reached it's completion, but bless her heart, that isn't for lack of effort on her part.  All of us have repeatedly reminded her, "It is still the first day."

Buying and eating a hot dog from a street vendor, and praying that the city does enforce and oversee some health codes from the plentiful food stands.

We took an evening trip on a city bus and the metro.  It started with me sitting in a saturated bus seat, and then parading around DC in wet underwear and jeans for the next hour or so.  My immediate fear of somebody else's urine was quickly dispelled when drops from the bus roof were landing on my arm.  Really, it should have been a clue for us all to turn around and go home.  But we continued on.  My in-laws left the rest of us to fend for ourselves, after we repeatedly assured my father-in-law that we were fully capable of getting around the city.  Our pride was somewhat damaged when a couple of hours later we sent out a rescue phone call when we found ourselves across the river, in Virginia.  Though Kristin and I still stand by the story that the  train DID NOT STOP at our stop, my father-in-law believes differently.  Oh well, we had some great laughs when all five of our loaned Metro cards wouldn't work, we set off an alarm at the Arlington Train station, and were sternly asked where we were going by the security guard.  The kids were close to tears, and their nerves frazzled, but all was well.  The security guard eventually pointed us to the emergency exit. I think it was an attempt to get the crazy, alarm-sounding tourists with non-working cards out of his immediate vicinity.  Next time I sit in water on a DC bus, I will take it as an omen to change plans instantly.

(The poor children, having temporarily lost faith in their mothers to deliver them safely home, follow the light of the Lincoln Memorial knowing it's the direction of  'home.')

My favorite site thus far has been the Roosevelt Memorial. I loved the gardens and surroundings of the memorial, but really why I think I loved it the most, is because of the soft spot FDR has in my heart due to his heroic efforts to find orphan Annie's parents. I will never admit to my educated in-laws that when I saw a statue of FDR with a dog alongside of him, my immediate thought was that it was Annie's beloved dog, Sandy. (So I had a temporary moment separating fact from fiction, no big deal, right?)

Really though, what a day.  What great history, feeling and emotion one feels in such monuments, memorials and sites.  On more than one occasion, I have found myself tearing up as I explain an event or significance of what we are seeing to Megan or Luke.  I've had one line running through my head frequently, "There ain't no doubt, I love this land. God bless the USA."

Cowboys and Girls in DC

Memories more important than the 'main attractions':

While Luke was listening to the ipod with headphones on the airplane, I asked him a question. When he responded, "What?" Heads turned. I can not dispute the fact Luke well and truly has the loudest voice of anyone I know.

Luke coming and telling me that he collected seven pennies out of the pool by the Korean Memorial. When I questioned that maybe he shouldn't be taking pennies out that people put in, he replied, "The sign says don't put money in." He obviously thought he was helping the rulemakers out. Furthermore, he said, "I'm going to keep them and give to Dad to put in the bank." I told him we don't really just deposit pennies, to which he responded, "Every little bit of money is going towards my saddle." He obviously appreciates the value of a penny. All credit goes to Mike.

Megan was proud of her navigation prowess using the free map she received at the Lincoln Memorial. The rest of us in the car were being driven crazy by her constant, "Now where are we? Are we on 'Constitution and 3rd?' Her punishment for driving all of us bonkers? She soon retired from her navigating due to the onset of car-sickness.

Luke finding more satisfaction in the squirrels running wild and the unique tree trunk structures than the nearby White House. My sister-in-law, Kristin, who is traveling with us got it right when she said, "You can take the boy out of the country, but not the country out of the boy!" Furthermore, his cowboy hat in pictures of memorials and other stirring American monuments, as my mother suggested, would make a fitting book, 'A Cowboy Goes to DC'. I think Luke and I could quite well write and illustrate the book.

Grandpa Steve emotionally explaining to the children how he 'could have' been one of the casualties of the Vietnam War, and thus none of us would have been standing there today.

Luke's absolute captivating interest as my father-in-law explained the controlled airspace above DC. His shock and questions about an unauthroized plane perhaps having to be shot down seemed neverending. "Well what if just a tiny bit of a wing gets in?" I finally realized, perhaps it is due to his slight concern that our pilot may accidentally veer into the airspace and cause our demise. I used the moment as a good teaching tool to obey commandments with EXACTNESS. (Check me out, I could be the next President Uchtdorf!!)

Megan has retired to bed early, due to lasting car-sickness effects. Luke has moved his mattress into the limited bedroom space room with Megan and me. (I've always said he's kind of a mama's boy) and I have to now go to sleep as somehow I have been talked into waking up at 5:45am to get tickets for the Washington Monument. I am trying not to have an anxiety attack that it is really 3:45am Utah time.

This is a beautiful part of the country.
What a blessed land we live in.

Going, Going, Gone

(photo courtesy of Megan in March 2009)

I'm not much of a traveler.  Having five children, a limited budget, a slight anxiety with flights and long drives, and a husband who for years has had limited vacation days, has caused us to not put vacations at the top of our priority list.

Of course, it isn't like we haven't ever traveled or done trips, but they are fairly limited.  In December at our annual tithing settlement with our Bishop,  (In our church, at the end of each year, we are given the opportunity to make a personal declaration to the head of our clergy of our payment of donations.)  our Bishop gave us a challenge to take a vacation as a family.  He continued on about the wonderful bonding experience it can be, etc.  (He obviously doesn't have five young children...;) )  Mike and I certainly hope before 2011 is over, we can take the Bishop up on his challenge.

BUT, half of us around here, are going on a trip.  (Which case in point-a 'trip' and a 'vacation' to me are very, very different.  Last year, when Mike and I went to Tucson, AZ, that was a vacation.  Twelve hour drives to Phoenix, or a week in a hotel with young kids is not so much a vacation, they are trips!)  Actually, is a vacation even possible with kids?

Okay, I digress- half of us are going on a trip.  Mike's parents serving a mission in one of  my mother-in-laws favorite places in the world (and she has seen the majority of the world!) have graciously invited some of us to come and visit them.

As you read this, Megan, Luke and I will be en route to Washington DC.  We will be traveling with Mike's sister and her daughter.  Luke and I are the only ones in the group that have never visited DC before.  We have spent the last few weeks studying up on history and people and places so that we aren't completely ill-informed tourists.  Bless Luke's little heart, his enthusiasm and desire to check out books from school and/or recognize any news story or wording of anything remotely connected has really been endearing.  But sometimes, despite my best intentions, the to-do list has taken higher priority than US history study time.

As I mentioned before, the trip has certainly not come without some anxiety, and of course much preparation.  Anxiety of flying (pray for me!), and preparing three children's schedules to be where and when so Mike can work, making sure preparations are made for the Easter Bunny to be able to come next Easter Sunday, etc. etc.  (Don't remind me that I'm going to be away from home on my very favorite holiday!)  I will miss Easter at home as a family, and I'll miss spending my 14th wedding anniversary with Mike, and I will desperately miss Ellie, Joshua, Drew and Mike.

But most of all, I'm praying and I'm hoping I don't miss the falling out of Ellie's first tooth.  It's wobbly, but didn't quite get loose enough to fall out before I left.  It's like last year when I went to Tucson for three days, I worried Drew would start walking while I was gone.  (He didn't!)

I hardly ever travel.  I'm hardly ever gone from home.
So why, oh why, when I take my few trips and/or vacations do I have to worry about such things as babies walking and teeth falling out?
Oh, it's because I'm a mother.
And that is something ONLY a mother would understand.

Keep your fingers crossed.
xx

A Riddled Life

You know those riddle type things--
Why do we park on a driveway but drive on a parkway?
or
Why is it called rush hour when your car barely moves?
You know the ones.

I've had a few ponderings and reality checks lately that made me wonder if my own life is a riddle!

I make an effort each day to exercise, sometimes early in the dark, yet most mornings I've had a piece of chocolate or a sugar treat by 10am!

I make most of the things I cook 'from scratch', however, I have yet to make a box of jello without it 'not quite working.'

I often catch myself saying through clenched teeth and an unkind tone, "You need to speak nicely to each other."

There is currently what I call a science project going on in my shower, but watch out if a bed isn't made.

Why was it when I taught the Old Testament (including Isaiah!) to a group of adults last year, I left every lesson feeling pretty competent about the discussion and my efforts.   But, in the last five months, I have yet to come away from a Primary Sharing time teaching 3-11 year olds(!!) that I feel as though I did even a remotely decent job.  (Doesn't help that yesterday my object lesson FLOPPED...)

Telling lies around here has a zero tolerance policy and is not accepted, yet when Joshua asked me the other day, "Do you think when we aren't at our house, my Woody, Buzz and Jesse talk to each other?"  I answered, "You know what? Maybe they do!"

Hmmm-such are the perplexities and riddles of my life.
Surely, I'm not the only one whose life is resembling a riddle.

Different Kinds of Hard

Last night, I sat with some wonderful women and had a great discussion about hard and good being so closely related.  It really got me thinking about all the different kinds of hard we experience in the day to day of motherhood.  And I just mean the day to day stuff.  Not the really hard stuff that some people at different times are dealing with.  I mean the hard stuff that's so temporary, yet so real.

I think back to when I was pregnant with my first.  I received all sorts of advice and concern:
"You'll be tired."
"The baby will control your life."
"The newborn poop stains everything."

And then it seems that well-meaning parents of teenagers are always willing to give advice to mothers with younger children...
"Just wait until you have teenagers."
"Enjoy the time while they are young."
"You don't know what problems are until you have teenagers."
etc. etc. ETC.

Rarely do people ever mention the in-between newborn and teenager stage.  It's as though it is just supposed to be cheery and bright.  Seems everyone just says "Enjoy it, it goes by too quickly."
And really.
I am enjoying it.
But boy is it still hard sometimes.

A while back, a friend expressed her frustration with an elementary school aged child having problems with his academic studies and potty issues.

As she asked my thoughts, I really had very little to say except, 

"Motherhood is hard."

More recently, I was visiting with the principal of our elementary school.  We had just finished discussing some typical, normal, non-desirable, childhood behaviors.  I asked her, "Why does nobody tell you these parts of motherhood?  They just focus on what will be difficult about newborns.

I will never forget her reply (I am paraphrasing here), "I remember my daughter used to play at my feet in the kitchen, emptying the cans out of the cupboards.  It seemed hard at the time. And then one day you find yourself wishing the cans on the kitchen floor were the worst of your worries!"

As she was saying those words, I knew I had a one year old and three year old whose supervision was a daddy laying on his back in bed.  I made a mental note to 'enjoy' what mess I came home to, rather than some of the more monumental issues I was dealing with, with my older children in school.  

I'm past the sleepless nights of newborns and I'm not in the thick of teenage years yet, but you know what?

There are still some hard parts.
And maybe not AS hard as a past time or a future time.
But in its own way, still hard.
It is hard to:

• See a child come home from school trying not to cry because of how unkind 'a friend' was.
• Deal with a child who starts crying two minutes before the bus arrives and won't say a single word-and so eventually you just sort of shove them in the general vicinity of the bus. 
• Knowing your child has a deep longing for something that seems there is no earthly way to provide it for them
• Receive a phone call from the school principal when her reason for calling has nothing whatsoever to do with PTA.
• Watch children give a subject their all, and then see the tears of frustration, when it still isn't quite enough.
• And plenty of other things that are too personal to air so publicly.  

Motherhood isn't easy, and it's okay to recognize and accept that there is some hard IN EVERY STAGE!

Onward, ever onward.

Going Downhill?

I've had a few weeks to process a few thoughts I have had mulling about in my mind.  All of the stories and/or experiences have muddled together and put my brain in overload.

• There is this story, about padded bikinis for young girls sold by a popular clothing store.  
• An interaction I watched a month or so ago while getting a pedicure.
• Friend requests on Facebook 
• Keeping 70+ children safe in a church building for the duration of church meetings

And more recently, an extremely well written and very thought provoking blog post by a friend yesterday,   about teaching our daughters about sexuality.

My wise younger brother has on more than one occasion discussed his dismay with the overall conclusion 'we' draw, that in essence says society is worse than it ever was, and that evil and demoralization are at all time highs.  He believes there is little that is 'worse' than any other time period.   I don't completely agree or disagree with him in his argument.  While I do not doubt his references to statistics and studies,  I believe there are a couple of big factors (and they are very closely intertwined) that have led to our current state of morality.  They are modern-day attitudes of complacency and fear and the instant stream of communication.

While sexuality, pornography, dishonesty, teen pregnancy rates, kidnappings, sexual abuse, etc., etc. may not be different statistically than generations ago, they are more accepted, more available, more heard about and more easily attained.  

Referring to the examples above that spurred all of these thoughts.

Selling padded bikini tops to young girls.  We are a far-cry from keeping things age appropriate.  We are sexualizing and placing important emphasis on appearances on our children (girls) way too young.   Now, I'm not one of those that thinks babies in jeans is inappropriate or a little nail polish on a toddler or little girls in dress-up high heels are akin to corruption.  But sure, ear-rings on a newborn, fake-nails on a seven-year-old, highlighted hair on a ten-year-old, and a first grade boy with ears-pierced seems extremely premature. (I've seen all of these things at local elementary schools!)  

Likewise, the not-even-three-year-old that sat next to me during a pedicure recently, left me being able to do little more than stare with my eyes and mouth wide open.  She was demanding a particular design and color on her toe.  She was demanding a fruit snack from her little purse.  All the while her mother saying, "Be careful _____, you're going to chip the polish on your fingernails."  

SHE'S TWO!!!!!!  TWO!! TWO!!  Shouldn't she be at home playing with baby dolls or sliding on a slide? And sure, maybe getting her nails painted by mom (or big sister!), but professionally?  

Call me old fashioned, call me whatever, but I think we are putting too many pressures of looks, style,  fashion and maintenance on children way too young.  Let them be kids.

Facebook.  Now, should I really even get started on Facebook?  It clearly states that you have to be thirteen years of age to set up an account.  Yet, I have received several friend requests of family members, neighbors and friends clearly not thirteen years old.  What message are we sending to our children?  I'm not even talking about the parents that approve it, I'm talking about the 'friends' that 'accept them'.  They are breaking rules.  They are at a personal risk for safety.  They are being dishonest.  They are lying.  Enough said.

Church Buildings.  I am continually amazed and beyond thankful, that more crimes do not happen in church buildings.  Not just because the buildings themselves are open to the public, but the congregations have very predictable schedules, patterns and behaviors.  With my responsibility to oversee 70+ Primary children each week, I take very seriously the need to impose guidelines and expectations for the children, instead of allowing them to roam the halls with no supervision.  Again, I know abuse, safety issues, kidnappings, etc. have been around for centuries and centuries, but we know too much nowadays about the consequences of such things to sit back and simply hope it doesn't happen.  

So much comes back to everyone being so concerned nowadays about offending people that we have begun to breed a general disrespect of modesty, honesty, integrity, safety and appropriateness.  It seems it is easier to stand by and say nothing than to open your mouth and take a stand for not accepting immoral, inappropriate or dishonest behaviors.  Now I'm certainly not saying, let's go back to the days of Scarlet Letters. Of course I'm not, but we sit around and let a young woman lead a meeting based on values of modesty, virtue and goodness, all the while wearing a dress that barely covers her thighs.  Or we 'friend' people on Facebook who we know should not have an account because we wouldn't want to hurt their feelings.  Or we ooh and aah over the cuteness of a little girl in a salon, or see nothing wrong with girls in padded bikinis, because heaven forbid, we wouldn't want to be seen as rude.  Second to that, we have an instant stream of communication that is available all day every day.  We have billboards, movies, commercials, music, radio, magazines, internet, text messaging, and the like at our immediate disposal everywhere and anywhere we go.  

Oh I have so much more to say, (surprise!) but I won't.  Because really, it ultimately all comes down to personal opinions and perceptions.  And of course we can legitimately argue that it all comes back to individuality.  Because reality is how I parent and how you parent are personal, individual and unique.  BUT, we are all part of the same society.  And unless we live in a bubble, we all rub shoulders and influence each other, good and bad.

Between our concerns of offending people, the complacent attitudes among us, and the exposure everywhere we turn, what really is there to do?

I certainly don't claim to have a solution.