We Went Inside One Day

Last week we had the opportunity to take our little family to the Brigham City Temple open house. It is a newly constructed temple, and before it is dedicated as a holy place where only certain individuals can enter, members of the public are invited to take a tour of it.

As members of the LDS church, we believe temples to be sacred buildings where eternal ordinances are performed, one of them being the marriage sealing, which we believe seals couples and families for eternity. As such, we thought it would be a great experience to take our family there.

It wasn't exactly the private tour we had of the Oquirrh Mountain Temple back in 2009, (you can read about that HERE) as you can tell from this non-private photo. At least we got one shot that didn't have that little girl's (to the right of us) underwear showing.

As we were driving the hour or so journey home, I did actually wonder if our family being together for eternity really will be a good thing. (I'm hoping at least if we ever have to be in the car together in the eternities, we have a large bus and each child will have their own row. That would be a start in helping us want to be together.)

Drew obviously wasn't the problem on the way there.

I really shouldn't joke about such things, but sometimes as I anticipate events, I envision peaceful, spiritual experiences as a family. They rarely happen, but I can't seem to stop my habit of having high hopes for my little family. This little tour of the temple last week was close, oh so close to my imaginations becoming a reality.

My children walked reverently and quietly through the temple. Just as he did three years ago, Joshua held the temple pamphlet tightly in one hand, while he held Mike's hand with the other. Drew walked quietly and reverently (with the exception of when he bumped his head on a stair railing). As we approached the marriage sealing room, I wanted to pause and stand in front of the mirrors that symbolize eternity. I wanted our family to stop and get a visual picture of our family for eternity.

It didn't happen. Mike and Joshua in front of the rest of us, barely even paused to look in the mirror as they continued to walk ahead. I like to think Mike didn't want to hold up the "procession", but I have a hunch it was really because Mike wasn't actually in the mood to be reminded we were all stuck sealed together for eternity. (A car journey longer than 5 minutes with all seven of us in one car don't exactly cause feelings of love, harmony and peace.)

Regardless of not pausing to reflect in front of the "eternal mirrors", I was still having high hopes that this was a spiritual experience for my children and we would drive peacefully home discussing the aspects of our temple visit that touched us the most.

That didn't really happen either. I mean, I did ask the children what their favorite parts of the temple visit were, but none of them seemed to say anything resembling what I had "imagined" their answers to be.

"Why don't we each tell what our favorite thing was about visiting the temple today?" I asked the children as we drove home.

Drew: "The white things on my shoes and the cookies." (Everyone wore shoe covers on their shoes.)
Joshua: "The cookies at the end, and riding the bus." (Buses shuttled us from a parking lot to the temple.)
Ellie: "The gold tissue box."

Megan and Luke's answers did have a little more depth to them:

Megan: "The two mirrors."
Luke: "The mirrors that went on forever."
(Even if they didn't get to stop and gaze into them with their family!)

I failed to mention the part when Joshua was handed his pamphlet at the very beginning, before the tour even began. Seeing a picture of the baptismal font, he said, "Look! There's a hot tub." "Can we bring our swimsuits next time?"

Unfortunately, Joshua was serious.

There you have it.
That concludes our tour of the Brigham City LDS temple.


You can read more about LDS/Mormon Temples HERE.

My Real Feelings

I am once again feeling brave enough to bring up the subject of the Boy Scouts of America. I've done it before HERE.

I do not DISLIKE the Boy Scouts of America. Sure, there are a lot of the procedures that make me crazy, namely the emphasis of the program as it correlates to the LDS church, and the price of any item in a Boy Scout store, or the background check necessary to even say the words Scouting Program. Oh and this one that I'll interrupt myself here with: I wish I had a photo of me last week at Luke's pack meeting when he was presented with his Webelos award. I was wearing all of the "Mothers' Pins" I have "earned" thus far in the BSA program. Luke presented me with my 4th one that night. I might add, that I'm fairly certain I was the only mother wearing any previous Mothers' Pins. (I wear them to each pack meeting I attend and every once in while to be funny, sarcastic or overly sentimental. Okay not ever for that last reason.) Really, what do those pins mean anyway? That I helped out? That I'm thrifty, cheerful, kind, trustworthy, courteous, etc? Or that somehow all my nagging, all my patience, and all the biting of my tongue somehow qualifies me for a tiny piece of metal that should be worn on a shirt not stored in a jewelry box?!

I digress. Here's what I really struggle with...

Last Sunday, Luke was working on finishing up his last few requirements to receive his Arrow of Light award. (The passageway from the Cub Scout program to the Boy Scout program.) One of the requirements was to memorize the Boy Scout oath and law.

The oath being:
On my honor I will do my best
To do my duty to God and my country
and to obey the Scout Law;
To help other people at all times;
To keep myself physically strong,
mentally awake, and morally straight.

The law being:
A Scout is:
Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful,
Friendly, Courteous, Kind,
Obedient, Cheerful, Thrifty,
Brave, Clean, Reverent

As Luke was attempting to get all those positive character traits recited in the correct order, it hit me what my big pet peeve with the BSA/Mormon connection is:

It seems so much emphasis is placed on getting the awards, achievements and advancements and very little is ever said about what really matters. Learning to swim, or to communicate via email, or read a map, or to start a campfire, or do a 50-mile bike ride are great things, but what about the other stuff?

As Luke continued to recite the law (all jumbled up I might add), I interrupted him, and with a surprise lump in my throat said to him that if he lived a life true to all those declarations he was making while reciting the law and oath, he would be an outstanding boy and man. Having an Arrow of Light patch sewn on a shirt, or an Eagle Scout certificate gathering dust in a closet mean little when it comes to real life. Living a life true to the Boy Scout oath and law will mean a lot more than any over-priced patch.

I can't help but think of the big chart in the foyer of our church building that shows publicly the progression of each of the Boy Scouts in our congregation. I wonder how cheerful it makes the boy and his parents feel for everyone to publicly see how far behind he is from his peers. I wonder how kind the other boys are about the supposed encouragement they are supposed to be offering each other. I wonder how helpful the chart really is in helping those Boy Scouts internalize the oath and law.

I know plenty of Eagle Scouts that don't fit the bill of the BSA oath or law.
I know plenty of good boys and men who are not Eagle Scouts, that exemplify many, if not all of those traits mentioned in the oath and law.

I finished my impromptu speech to Luke by telling him that awards, certifications and advancements are great. But in our family, being a Boy Scout will mean trying one's hardest to live the Boy Scout oath and law. Any other achievements within the program will be a great accomplishment, and certainly a worthy goal. But those will come secondary to living the oath and law first.

I then allowed him to continue reciting all the qualities I hope he embeds deep into that little heart and brain of his.

I'm not a BSA naysayer. I'm really not. In fact, I would be one of their biggest fans IF it became less about earning awards and more about making good quality boys into good quality men.

Luke at Webelos Wilderness, June 2012

The Summer Nothings & Everythings

Although some summer events may not have gotten a blog post dedicated entirely to themselves, they are worth noting nonetheless. Some of these events happened as recently as last week, others last month, but they are all equally important. Okay, not really but I'd hate to start rating memories. Be forewarned, most of the photos are pretty poor photos. I'm no photographer.

Luke left bright and early last Saturday morning (5am) to go fishing at Deer Creek with his best friend, Paul. Luke has fished a handful of times this summer with no luck. I was thrilled for him when he came home having caught these four fish. (Probably helps that Paul takes him to better quality lakes than the small ponds and streams we take him to.) Luke cleaned and filleted them himself, wrapped them up tightly in foil until Mike gets around to grilling them.

I was pretty irritated the evening I met Mike in Salt Lake with Megan for her Temple Square organ playing event and found out Mike was wearing a work t-shirt. I stopped at a mall store and bought Mike a collared clearance shirt to wear. I believe it is still sitting in the shopping bag. I never have a doubt where the stubborn traits one of my children exhibits come from.

My favorite garden in the world is my BFF's dad and his wife's beautiful back garden. Seriously, it is like stepping into a magazine or movie scene when there. It is even more charming to enjoy a dinner at dusk sans children on a warm summer's eve.

 (Can you tell we were trying to act "natural" for the timer photo!)
Can you see why it is one of my favorite gardens EVER? Every single nook and cranny of the garden are beautiful.

1. The boys grilling (above) while the gals chat (below). Every few minutes Melanie and I switch around to a different part of the garden to sit.

If you want to know more about the garden, visit HERE.

Luke participated in a horse reigning competition.

 Two siblings watched Luke participate in said horse reigning competition.

Sister quickly bored of the aforementioned horse reigning competition and sewed instead.

Megan went to Girls' Camp. Oh how we missed her, although her room being tidy all week was nice.

Lunch with my BFF for her birthday. I find it funny that we go to lunch only once a year, always on her birthday. Never on mine. Never any other time. Although food is always a very important part of our almost bi-monthly "couch days".

(It's a blurry, cell-phone quality photo. And it's even better that the waitress is in the photo too.)

The children and I spent a glorious day at Lagoon with my parents. It was a near-perfect day. It really was. None of us had been there in 5 years, so it seemed like "a first" to the majority of the children. Mike kept texting me, I think waiting for an exasperated, stressed-out text from me telling him I was worn out and tired of the children. It never happened. It was one of those rare, rare, days that I wish we had more of. The photos are not great, but the memories were. That's what matters.

Megan was asked to make a birthday cake for my grandma. Megan was thrilled to try fondant for the first time. She did a pretty exceptional job. I love that she'll always remember her first attempt at fondant as a cake for my grandmother, "Mimi" to my children. I got all choked up that night talking about how blessed my children are to know a great-grandparent. She's a pretty special part of our family.

One of our family summer bucket list items was to go ice blocking. Most of the photos are blurry, but the memory was captured.

And that wraps up some of the miscellaneous summer items that make me remember, "Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you'll look back and realize they were the big things."

I'm quite sure that I don't have to wait for "one day" to recognize the tantrum that happened as we left the park after ice blocking that Saturday evening as a "big thing." It was no little tantrum.

Such is life around here during the summer.
The random events that is, not the tantrums.
Actually, tantrums are part of our life too.
Summer or not.

Culture vs Culture

Several years ago, I visited New York with my mother and two younger brothers. We saw a lot of the popular New York must-see places, and attended a Yankees/Red Sox baseball game. I went to the ball game somewhat grudgingly and even took a book to read during it. (I did not end up reading it, mostly because of threats from my brother not because I didn't want to!)

When I returned, a somewhat hoity-toity person asked me what I had seen while there. Several of the places he mentioned were not even on our radar. Really, the main point of the trip was the Yankees/Red Sox game for my brothers. I was simply tagging along.

Despite the fact I was (and still am) not a baseball fan, walking into that Yankee stadium was absolutely one of the most spectacular places I'd ever visited. It was the highlight of my New York trip. I don't know baseball rules, and I clearly didn't understand a lot of what was going on, but being in that full stadium, and being a part of something so "American" still stands out as one of the best experiences of my life. I came home from that trip and told Mike if and when we ever visit New York with our children, we will attend a baseball game there.

I tried explaining my Yankee Stadium experience to the hoity-toity person all those years ago, but he was too busy asking me why in the world we hadn't visited The Metropolitan Museum of Art. I gave up and instead made a insincere commitment to visit the museum the next time I returned to New York City.

Over the past few years, Mike and I have found ourselves "in circles" we never thought we would be in. Namely, rodeos, county fairs, and 4-H meetings. Of course thrown in are a few harp performances, and Temple Square organ opportunities. (Not to mention a personal favorite--monster truck shows!) It is all such a dichotomy. Hauling a goat somewhere in the morning and a harp somewhere that evening was not something we'd have ever imagined doing.

Last week, Mike and I sat among a pretty diverse group of people as Luke showed Lily at the county fair. With the exception of making a mental note to wear shoes and socks next year, (I think I made that same mental note last year, but forgot.) I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. The next morning I took Luke up to the fairgrounds to feed Lily. The Steer Competitions were about to begin and the area was full of people brushing and washing their cows in preparation. As I walked through the stalls, with the sounds of cows all around, I suddenly recalled the conversation of The Metropolitan Museum of Art versus a baseball game at Yankee Stadium I had eight years ago.

They are both so full of culture, in their own way. I can't put into words the experience in the fairgrounds the other day, but I know it wasn't just my love of a good steak that was soaking up the "spirit" of the steer competitions.

The next night we attended a rodeo. As a cowboy riding a horse and holding the United States flag galloped around the arena to the sounds of a patriotic country song, there was no denying the feeling of love for one's country among the hundreds in attendance. Attending a rodeo is an experience in and of itself. One of my favorite events to attend. Luke and I were both bored last year when visiting the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC. I felt uncultured and even guilty for feeling that way at the time and couldn't help but contrast it with the fact I thoroughly enjoyed watching cowboys fall from bucking broncos and bulls last week.

But then...

I thought again of the Museum of Art and Yankee Stadium conversation.

Really.
What does it mean to attend a "cultural" event? I know as a fact it isn't just my hoity-toity friend from 8 years ago that think symphonies, operas and art museums are far superior to rodeos, county fairs and baseball games. There is so much rich culture and experience everywhere. I'm glad for my exposure to a genre of life I never thought I'd experience.

Soccer Mom was obviously never in the cards for me.
I'm proud to be a Cowboy Mom.

(I know this isn't a great photo-but oh those little boys of mine holding their hats while they put their hands on their hearts was touching.)

Two Goats, Ten Chickens and A ....

(Hank and Lily)

I'll make this short and sweet.

Last week, Luke showed Lily at the County Fair. Do you remember Luke chose a girl goat this time around for a specific reason!?

 From April 27th, I quote,

"The reason I didn't sell Hank last year was because I knew he would die for someone to eat his meat. Rob (the 4-H instructor) told me girls are popular because people get them to breed. They don't kill the girl goats as much for meat because they want them to breed. It will be easier to sell Lily knowing she won't die."

Yeah well, that didn't exactly happen.

Luke will no longer be "raising" animals for county fairs. We don't have anymore room. Two goats is the limit. I'm not going to allow Lily to breed, we'd end up with a darn goat farm.

With the exception of the hay that supplements Hank and Lily's diet that our dear neighbor won't charge Luke for, Luke pays for the feed himself for the chickens and goats, Today after our Money Grab, Mike pulled Luke aside and helped him understand how much money he spends on animals--pretty much everything he earns and/or receives. Mike lovingly suggested perhaps it is time to sell an animal.

You'd have thought Mike was suggesting selling Luke.
I don't think the conversation went the way Mike hoped it would.

If nothing else, Mike and I have come to the realization that, not only does Luke have 2 goats and 10 chickens, he has a pretty big heart.

Guess there could be worse things for a 10 year old boy to have.

A Unique Opportunity

As part of a workshop Megan attended at BYU a couple of weeks ago, she had the opportunity to play an organ at Temple Square. The participants had the choice of three organs, the Assembly Hall, the Tabernacle, or the Conference Center.

Although the organ inside the Tabernacle is by far the most historic of the three organs, I kept my opinion to myself about which organ Megan should choose. Megan chose the Conference Center organ. When I asked her why she was choosing that one she replied, "I see it on television for General Conference, I've been in the Conference Center for conference a few times and I think it would be really cool. I've never even heard the Tabernacle one played."

As Mike and I watched her play her hymn that Wednesday night, we were absolutely thrilled she chose that organ to play on. She will always remember it. I think every time she watches a General Conference broadcast and sees a close up of the organ, she will remember fondly her unique opportunity. I was touched by the spirit as I listened to some workshop participants play various familiar hymns. Of course I sang along despite Mike next to me saying, "You really should stop singing." Nobody could hear (except him), and I really didn't care that his fine ear for music had to tolerate my off-key singing.

Of course when Megan played, I did not sing along. I was disappointed I forgot the video camera, and I could not figure out the lighting on my camera's video option in such short notice. A little disappointing that we can't exactly see it is Megan. But I promise it is.

The dress she was wearing was very long, and just before she played the last verse the instructor told her to adjust her dress to make the pedals easier. Thus the laughter and clapping at the end of the video. I'm sad I didn't get the last verse, with the loud "whatever musical term they use" holding of the last note. It was loud, it was strong, and it capped off perfectly a unique and awesome opportunity.

PS-We found out that the "field trip to play the organs" only happens every 4 years of the BYU Organ Workshop not every year like we previously thought. She lucked out on that one, now didn't she?

Ellie's Dream

Ellie is 8 years and 3 months old, and still adores playing with baby dolls. I know not all girls her age still do. In fact, I'm pretty sure by 8 years old, Megan's were long put away. Not the case with Ellie. With Ellie there is always a baby doll, a baby blanket, a car seat or some doll paraphernalia lying around. Saturday afternoon, the boys decided to play outside in the water but Ellie opted not to. At first, I wasn't sure why in the world she wouldn't want to participate, but then I got it. Without anyone really knowing, she was "being the mom."

She pulled up a small chair, gathered her baby, convinced Joshua to "join the game" and "mothered" on the side.

For the record, I was being a mother at the other end of the patio too. But instead of babying anyone, I had my feet up on a chair, a book on my lap and a delicious sugar cookie hidden within its pages.  I would occasionally look up when a child said, "Watch me, mom!"

Ellie on the other hand was really mothering. I could overhear the "motherly" conversation she was having with Joshua. And I loved that he was whining to her about wanting to swim with the other boys, and not to me. (How she held him off from swimming sooner I will never know!)

As I glanced over at Ellie lovingly lay her baby in the baby carrier, so she could attend to Joshua, I began to wonder if I have ever really written about that baby carrier thing. At about the same time, Joshua asked, "Ellie where did you get that car seat from?" As I listened to her reply, I knew I had to put down my book (careful to hide my sugar cookie from any tempting fingers or spying eyes) and snap a photo.

In Ellie's words (said with a mature-I'm-a-mother-not-your-sister-tone of voice), "I got the car seat when I was 3 or 4 but the handle broke. So then I found the basket to put it in once. I got the car seat cover for Christmas when I was 6."

That car seat/basket will surely never end up being given away to a thrift store like so many other belongings do. It is a keeper for sure.

I'm really not sure how much longer we will so frequently see Ellie in a chair rocking a baby doll, or carting around this basket. But I will be sad when it is over. Not only because it will mean Ellie is growing up and leaving one of my favorite little girl stages, but because I will no longer have a visual reminder of what I am doing.

A visual reminder that I wanted the exact same thing as she did.
A visual reminder that my little girl dream to grow up and be a mother came true.
And some days, I need that.

One of the deepest desires of my heart, is that her dreams come true too.