A Week Late

My favorite holiday is Easter. I love the simplicity of it even though really it is all wrapped up in the most monumental event ever to occur.

When Megan was three years old, we started a tradition to "build up to Easter." We've done it different ways over the years, but the last couple of years it has been simple and easy.

Each day we review the details of the last week of Jesus' life. His triumphant entry into Jerusalem, His visit to the Temple, washing His disciple's feet, the Last Supper, the crucifixion, the days of darkness and of course the glorious resurrection day. We hang the picture on the wall, read a simple descriptive passage and take a challenge that will help us internalize the message.

On Friday, after reading the scripture and showing the picture of Christ's crucifixion, I opted to show a short video of the event. It was a wonderful experience sitting around the computer screen with my five children and see the reverence and respect they showed as they watched. It was obvious each of us--even Drew in his own little way, was touched by the Spirit.

What a glorious holiday.

I decided to take very few photos this Easter. I surmised on Easter morning, I have never once cared that I have no photos of me as a child searching for Easter eggs on Easter morning. So why did I need 43 of my kids doing the ritual? I opted to put the camera down and instead enjoy the scene around me. But then I started feeling horribly guilty that I'd one day have pictures of each child in an Easter morning scene, but none of Drew. So out came the camera again.

Except then I started worrying that the children would one day wonder what the reason was there were no pictures of anyone but Drew on Easter Day 2012.

So I took one last picture and called it good.

Because surely my kids will care to remember nothing more than what the traditional flip-flops looked like they received from the Easter Bunny in 2012.

Half's Are My Way

Even though Megan temporarily lost sight of the fact that half birthday cakes are of MY CHOOSING, (chocolate cake with chocolate frosting-of course HOMEMADE) I forgave her for mentioning she would have much rathered a yellow cake over a chocolate one.

That is exactly WHY I love half-birthday cakes. Not only are they simple and easy they are DELICIOUS. That can't be said for any of the "regular" birthday cakes I make.

I love, LOVE, LOVE chocolate cake with chocolate frosting.
I love, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE Megan too. All 13 and a HALF years of her.

Animal Kingdom

I have mentioned more than once that animals really aren't my thing. Mike and I agreed very early on in our marriage, (if not before) that we would be a "no pet family."

With the exception of the occasional goldfish that has sat on our counter for a day or two, I like to think I (we) have somewhat stuck to our early commitment.

Then the 4H project started last spring and along came Hank the goat. Except you all know how that went--Luke fell in love with Hank and he didn't meet his demise at the county fair. Well then along came Daisy the rabbit because she needed a new home, and then because we were known as "animal people" Luke gained 4 chickens last fall and of course a girl goat.

I'll add in here that none of these animals reside on my property. How did I luck out with that? The long and short of it: kind neighbors.

Here we are well into spring. Hazel (the girl goat) didn't ever have her babies. Finally I convinced everyone to listen to ME the NON-ANIMAL person, to look at all the non-pregnancy signs and accept that Hazel giving birth to babies wasn't going to happen.

It actually broke my heart to tell Luke, but he took it very well.

I think it was my broken heart that responded to Luke's scout leader's Facebook status a few weeks ago that he needed to find a home for his five chickens. I wasn't too thrilled after we committed to them when Luke informed me they would have to live in our garage for a few weeks before they were big enough to join the other chickens.

As if 5 chickens in my garage wasn't enough, less than a week after getting the chickens, Luke, (while at a store with Mike) couldn't pass up the 99 cent chick sale and came home with a baby chick each for Megan and Ellie.

I now have 5 semi-baby chickens and 2 baby chickens in my garage and it stinks.
Literally.

I'll admit, I have had unkind thoughts to everyone involved.
I have now not so kindly informed Luke that the chickens will be evicted this Saturday and will need to relocate to the chicken home across the street.

And even though it may seem somewhat ambiguous to say whether or not my "no pet commitment" has been abided by, I like to think I have kept my end of the bargain.

Mike on the other hand, has not.
I blame him.

Five at Last

It seems Joshua has been waiting to turn 5 forever. It is finally here! We have a weird habit around here of not feeling "the right age" until the minute you were born has been recognized on your birthday. I think it is actually Ellie that stared and enforced this rule. (Okay, maybe it has something to do with the special circumstance for my 32 hour birthday.)

Nonetheless, Ellie was thrilled that by the time we woke up this morning Joshua was OFFICIALLY five and all festivities were legitimate.

Although the photo doesn't quite capture it, I loved the look on Ellie and Joshua's face as Luke wheeled in Joshua's birthday present. I absolutely love when my kids get so excited for each other.

Why I didn't take the camera downstairs and outside with me while Joshua wheeled around on his new bike at 7:30am probably had something to do with me in my bathrobe not wanting to bring too much attention to myself.

Joshua was thrilled to take cupcakes and head off to pre-school and I was thankful to have one less person in the background while working on his "Lightning McQueen Racecar Number 5 cake" he requested. It's nothing fancy. But that's what I'm resigning myself to.

As for Drew.
Well yeah-I had to make a slight compromise for taking his Lightning McQueen and Mater toys for the cake and then telling him no, he could not drive them around on the "track". So I let him eat frosting from the container.

 It's what any good mother would do in those same circumstances, right?

Here's hoping the cake survives until 4pm today.
Happy Birthday Joshua!

A Broken Pen

Let me give a little back-ground...
#1-Mike and I were just retiring to bed on Friday night. Mike was already sprawled out on the bed in front of the television, I was flossing my teeth a few feet away.
#2-Aware of Ellie crying bloody murder down the hall, I ask Mike to investigate. Mike knowing Ellie crying bloody murder is a somewhat regular occurrence opted instead to remain in bed until Ellie came to him.
#3-Ellie appeared in our room and when questioned, "Why are you upset?" replied through tears, "I'm not. It's Luke."
#4-Meanwhile, with dental floss between my teeth I wander out to the doorway and see Luke approaching my room crying. Rarely being one to cry (unless it is time to practice the piano), I take his tears seriously and before I could ask a question, see blood dripping down his knee and leg.
#5-Grabbing a wet rag (dental floss still in place) I cleaned up the dripping blood and notice a small "hole" to the side of his right knee.
#6-Realized the dental floss was clearly in the way and quit flossing.
#7-Mike decides to pop up from his reclined-relaxed-it's been a long week-and-it's Friday night-and-I'm finally-in-bed position to take an active part in parenting responsibilities.
#8-Ellie is crying about her broken pen
#9-Mike immediately decides Luke needs to be seen by a medical professional and while grabbing some nearby shorts declares, "I'll take him."
#10-I disagree
#11-Mike tells me to get a second opinion from a neighbor.
#12-I disagree
#13-Ellie is still crying and upset that when Luke removed the pen from his knee, he threw it.
#14-Mike tells me to go ask a neighbor.
#15-I refrain from reminding Mike about Luke's broken arm 2 years ago and him not taking Luke to a doctor for 36 hours, even making the poor kid set up chairs at the church first. And if he wasn't willing to take Luke to be seen then, why should I have to take him now when the blood had stopped? (for the most part)
#16-Ellie keeps interrupting us and through tears declares it was her "favorite pen" and "now it won't click out."
#17-Joshua enters the room and questions, "Why is Luke sad? It's just a hole."
#18-Neighbors side with Mike. Guess the exposed muscle fat wasn't as obvious to me as it was to everyone else.
#19-I attempt to comfort Ellie by telling her the pen didn't break because Luke threw it, but because of the force of impact and subsequent penetration into his right knee before he removed it and threw it across the room
#19-Mike asks me to take Luke to the ER. Me, in my pajamas (and half-flossed teeth) question one more time if a bandaid will be sufficient instead.
#20-Mike begins to chicken out as he remembers he is not capable of being in the same room as needles and/or blood without becoming the patient himself and asks me again to take Luke.
#21-Ellie is still sniffling when Luke hobbles down the hall with a $1.00 bill in hand and says while handing it to her, "You can buy a new pack of pens with this."
#22-I don't know whether to be horrified that one of my children is so selfish that she's crying while her brother has a puncture wound to his right knee, or touched that one of my children is so selfless that he's clearly thinking of replacing a broken pen when he is about to visit the ER for stitches due to aforementioned broken pen.
#23-I offer to go WITH Mike but not instead of him.
#24-I am mildly self-conscious of the potential for unnecessary judgments about my parenting, while taking a child to the ER for stitches due to a puncture wound to his right leg while wearing a cast on his left arm.
#24-Upon arrival in the ER room, doctor immediately diagnoses it as a puncture wound and declares the need for stitches and possible tetanus shot.
#25-Mike immediately says, "This is the point I make my exit."

And that about wraps up our Friday night. We won't even mention the part about Luke dinking around on Ellie's spinning desk chair and falling onto the floor in the exact spot where Ellie happened to be sitting clicking open and closed her "favorite pen".

So even though this event cost me a later-to-bed than usual Friday night and who knows how much money in co-pays --it's really nothing compared to what Luke has to deal with...

Telling people he fell off a chair and landed on a pen.
Not exactly the experience a tough cowboy kid like Luke wants to be admitting.

When It's a Nightmare

On Sunday while reading from the scriptures, two of my children (my oldest I might add) decided it was time for fun and games. I slammed my Book of Mormon shut (being careful to keep my finger in the page) and while  hovering on the verge of tears said, "I am only doing this out of obedience. I am not feeling the spirit. I am not enjoying this. I am getting nothing out of it. I do not like this."

How's that for the introductory lesson to begin our traditional Easter Week's, "Last Week of Jesus' Life" study?

It was quite the coincidence that this article was published a couple of days later. If for no one else but myself.

Perhaps it will encourage you too.

Religious Practice in the Home IS NOT EASY (click on link to read)

Revolving Perspective

Last week Luke and I spent far too many hours at Primary Children's Medical Center...

After our prompt arrival, we were taken back to a room to began the initial steps for the procedure Luke was about to have. Due to the type of MRI Luke needed (a dye inserted into his wrist), the plan was for Luke to be sedated and so he was fasting. As a result, Luke was hungry and anxious for the procedure to begin and end. An hour and forty minutes after our arrival, a nurse announced to us that there had been an emergency and we would be bumped back. The estimated time of an hour and a half wait was not enthusiastically received.

After a couple of impromptu nurse meetings, it was decided Luke could forgo sedation, thereby making it possible that he could eat during the impending wait. The crackers and juice at the nurse station didn't satisfy Luke's empty stomach, so as the lunch hour approached, Luke and I decided to walk down to the hospital cafeteria.

(I have to interrupt myself to explain the fact that I have always believed that angels walk the halls of Primary Children's Medical Center. Years ago, while in college I had an experience at that hospital that gave me full confidence that those sick, and often dying children within those walls are not alone.)

As Luke and I approached the cafeteria, straight ahead of us was a large revolving door. With a ten year old's enthusiasm, Luke declared, "That is really cool." Well aware of the fact we had plenty of time to kill, I asked Luke, "You want to go over and check it out? I'll wait right here." Luke immediately replied, "Yeah!" with a big grin and even more enthusiasm. And off he went.

I stood watching Luke try to nonchalantly suppress his grin as he walked quickly over to the door and stepped inside. Immediately to my left, something caught my eye. Out of a nearby doorway came a girl in a wheelchair, being pushed (I assume) by her mother. The girl was likely very close to Luke's age, she wore a mask over her nose and mouth and her head was bald of any hair. Her face was void of any smile, and from her body language I knew she was very sick.

Just feet away from her stood my son, mischievously grinning from ear-to-ear as he was attempting to quicken the speed of the revolving door. My eyes immediately filled with tears and my heart suddenly felt heavy as I thought, that little girl should be doing the same thing Luke is. She should be being a carefree child playing in a revolving door, not scrunched up in a wheelchair in the throes of a medical nightmare. In that moment, I thought of all the horrible injustices happening within the walls of that very building, while my son enjoyed the novelty of a revolving door as he excitedly anticipated the hospital cafeteria having "a hamburger and fries."

I was deeply humbled as Luke and I walked into the Rainbow Cafe for Luke's lunch request.

Our five plus hour stay at the hospital the other day, resulted in nothing more than a cast on Luke's left arm the next morning. The result of an unhealed injury when he broke his arm after being bucked from a horse two years ago. Just a few days into it, I have found myself lamenting the cast and the subsequent prevention of keeping Luke's hands as clean as I'd like them.

I've stood at the sink several times over the past few days helping Luke wash his hands of chicken and goat germs, being careful to get them thoroughly clean without wetting the red cast on Luke's arm. I feel slightly irritated at the inconvenience of a cast, and the extra time it takes for Luke to wash his hands, or prepare for a shower. As soon as the inconvenience enters my mind, I think of the young girl in the wheelchair at the hospital. More than that, I think of the wearied face on the mother pushing the wheelchair and I count my blessings.

It's about perspective.