Lazy

I'm quite enjoying these post-Christmas days.

I've been sleeping in until 10:30ish, eating Lucky Charms and chocolate. 

I've spent a lot of time snuggled in my covers.

It feels amazing...cuz, let me tell you:

December felt like a completely exhausting whirlwind.

Beautiful (which I'm going to post about), but I was bone-tired too.

In fact, here's something from a little ways into December, on a Saturday night when I was feeling completely worn out. I was on my bed and wrote out what I'd done over the previous two days: 

"Woke up on Friday. House was cold. Texted furnace guy friend. Made pancake birthday breakfast for Claire and Russian tea. Fed everybody. Did Mia’s hair. Made her a lunch. Dropped everybody off. Came home. Read to Claire. Cleaned up the kitchen. Furnace guy came. Got Claire ready. Dropped her off to school. Hurried home. Worked. Picked up Claire. Came home. Made birthday cake. Made her birthday dinner. Cleaned up. Showered and got ready. Plugged in to work again. Picked up the older kids. Came home. Made frosting. Frosted the cake. Made salad. Served dinner to everybody. Cleaned up (made the boys help this time). Served up cake and ice cream to everybody. Boys and Claire left with Scott. Cleaned up. Made sugar cookie dough for Claire’s friend party the next day. Found birthday bingo template cards for Claire’s party. Printed them off. Cut them out. Traced and cut out trees for the birthday bags. Got ornament gifts ready. Long talk with Mia. Went for a run with Mia. Came home, took a hot shower, read my scriptures, went to bed. 

Woke up. Headache, still from yesterday. Made toast and took medicine. Took a shower. Realized I was three hours behind on work. Worked. Got ready. Drove to IKEA to get one of Isaiah’s Christmas presents and pick up Grayson and Bella. Stopped at Walmart on the way home for small cookie cutters. Came home. Baked cookies. Cleaned everything up. Made frosting, two different colors. Managed a birthday party for seven girls: decorating cookies, serving up cake and ice cream, playing bingo. Cleaned everything up. Went to Walmart for Christmas wrapping paper and Christmas shopping. Stopped at Papa Murphy’s on the way home to get pizza for the kids and at the grocery store to get roast and potatoes for tomorrow (Sunday dinner). Came home and put pizza in the oven. Found lights out on the tree. Cleaned up again. Got dinner for everyone and turned on a movie. Unloaded the car. Hid purchases from Walmart. Got a text from the primary reminding me that Mia had a talk tomorrow. We’ve talked about it but it needs to be written down for her. Still have to work for a while and get 6 kids to bed and fix the lights on the tree. Totally exhausted."

I read that list after I wrote it down and thought, "No wonder I'm tired."

So yeah...that's kind of a peek into how December-until-Christmas felt. 

And you know what? I never fixed the lights. If you’ve been to my house at Christmas time, you know that I load my tree with lights…so, actually, when I moved some strands around, you really couldn’t see the small sections of a couple of strands that had gone out and I couldn’t bring myself to even dive into that project. Who gives?

So, the point is?

These lazy lazies are deliciously luxurious. 

At 12:30 yesterday, I was in my bed in my pajamas (gift from Becca), working. 

Isaiah was on the iPad next to my bed playing a game.

Benj was flying his lego Kylo Ren's Command Shuttle, one of the sets he got for Christmas (he is in love). 

The girls were quietly playing in their room with Christmas stuff. 

Sometime after 4:00, I changed out of my pajamas just long enough to go for a run in my new workout leggings Christa gave me for Christmas (love!). 

When I got home, I made taco soup and put my pajamas back on.
And I slipped my feet into these cozy slippers Becca knitted for me. (Love! They keep my feet so, so warm.)

We went downstairs with our food and watched 

"The Man from Snowy River." 

I haven't seen that movie in years, and I loved it again.

We read together afterward while the kids ate ice cream. At one point, I looked over and Benj had his rubber band gun in one hand, shooting at something far ahead in the distance, while galloping crazy fast and controlling the reins with his other hand (all at the front window, of course). 
("Man from Snowy River" must have brought it on.) 

(I love that he still goes away in his imagination like that.)

Today is shaping up to be similar.

Basically, if you need me in the next few days, I'll just be here.

In my pajamas.

(I'm not planning on changing.)

Playing in the Woods

"We need the tonic of wilderness. We can never have enough of nature."

(Henry David Thoreau)

Today we drove almost an hour south of our home to hike in a canyon we'd never spent time in before. 

 It makes me happy that the boys are in their element there, exploring in the woods. 

I loved watching Bruce pick up huge sticks and admiring how handsome he is when you call his name and he looks at you and his ears rotate forward and he looks, all at once, noble and majestic and friendly with those kind eyes of his.

I don't know what it is but Claire has theeeeee cutest little bum and legs right now, and watching her in her new little hiking kicks made me happy. She's getting so big. And she'll tell you: "I'm the baby of the family, but I'm not a baby. That means I'm the youngest."

I loved watching my sister and Claire and Bella and Bruce up ahead on the trail. 

I loved cold river water on my feet.

I loved the beauty of the canyon, the sideways slabs of stone, the mix of trees, the rushing water, the fact that it felt as though we were all alone in it.

That moment with my sister under the falls. 

It was cold, we were laughing, and I love that we grabbed each other's hands. 

I loved a few quiet minutes with Mia, 

talking as we strolled along together.

I loved talking with Christa about the wonder of life--from the incredible detail in a single cell, to how amazing bees are and the intricate order and precision of all natural things--and the witness these things are, to both of us, over and over, of the existence of God.

And no matter where we go, I swear we always come home with more sticks. Cuz...Benji. 

Love these boys.

Pinecone Hearts

This morning was...

Braiding one daughter's hair into a crown braid

Throwing the other daughter's hair up in a top-knot bun

Making muffins because Claire wanted some

Watering the garden

Switching the laundry

Pulling out chicken for the crock pot

Running kids to play with cousins

Grabbing a few things at Costco

And now I'm finally plugging in to work for the afternoon.

Will stop at some point and throw chicken in the crockpot and wrap potatoes to throw in the oven. 

Gonna make gravy later, shred the chicken, make salad.

(Doing the home thing is my very favorite. It really is. I mourn the time when I was able to just be a mom full-time without having to work, too.

These simple tasks of tending, reading, talking, feeding, cleaning, and caring for my people are my very favorite things to do.

That being said, I feel so fortunate to work from home with a good job. 

And to work for good folks.

So lucky, and so grateful.)

On Sunday evening, we went to a couple of cemeteries, 

taking red geraniums to a few of our people.

We stopped at dad's grave first, and then at Huldah's, 

an ancestor of ours that crossed the plains.

As we made our way back across the cemetery, Isaiah wanted to make a pinecone heart like we'd seen by someone else's grave. 

So, as the sun's rays were stretching across the valley, we gathered pinecones and went back to dad's grave.

We arranged the pinecones into place there, and then gathered another bagful to take with us to my grandparents' grave at another cemetery up on the east side of Provo.

Isaiah arranged pinecones while Benji was shooting a gun (his hand). 

We sat in the grass at their grave and I told them about Vera's laugh and the way she shushes with her mouth at the end of it, and how I can still hear, right now, my grandfather chewing his tuna sandwich.

Random, right?

But I love these snippets of life we shared.

And as I look at us, it's beautiful and humbling to realize that we are the harvest of what came before -- and we wouldn't be without them.

Today, we hold them in---and love them with---

all of our pinecone hearts.

One Little Evening

Sometimes I like to capture just a little slice of an evening when things went right, when I got into my happy place.

And sometimes I like to do it because, one day, these will no longer be my days.  

I won't be cooking and cleaning for lots of little mouths and the needs won't be so incessant.

There will come a time when my house will be quiet.

And even tho I sometimes scream inside for a break, I wouldn't trade this for anything.

And so, if I offer just a teeny peek, it gives me a snapshot of my life to relish.

Like the other evening.

Wanna come along?

I'll take you there.

It's late on a Monday afternoon.

(Truth be told, I knew what I'd be doing that afternoon the night before when I couldn't fall asleep until 4:00 a.m. and was up a little after 6:30.  When I was lying awake in my bed, I figured out what I was making for dinner.  Yes.  That happened.  I think about food often.  I dream about it, too.  Ha!  Not sure what it says, but there you have it.)

Earlier in the day I had made bread dough and stuck it on the table for the next few hours.

Come 5:00ish this is what my kitchen looked like, late afternoon sunlight spilling in (it's one of my favorite things). 

Kids were off playing.

I made a favorite salad dressing.

Went outside and filled my apron with freshly picked tomatoes and basil leaves.

About this time, my gal came home and I had the pleasure of watching these two on the couch reading together while I kept making food.

I rolled out dough.

Drizzled it with olive oil and fresh crushed garlic.

Spread it all over with bare hands.

Sprinkled liberally with cheese and sliced those fresh garden tomatoes on the top, followed by chopped fresh basil and put it in the oven to bake.

We all gathered for dinner around that table.

There is always constant talking at the table, but this night I tried to have a focused discussion for family night about Sunday vs. Sabbath, and how (and why) this was instituted for our blessing.  I got to tell them why I love Sundays, and why we do what we do on that day.

Afterward, we gathered at the piano to sing the Little Miss' favorite hymn, a Christmas one, which we sing every week.  I think the kids get tired of it, but I love it.  It makes me warm just watching her sing her heart out to "Gloria in excelsis deo."

The boys and I ended up singing, several times, a round of "For Health and Strength," and it was the first time we successfully pulled off a round together where they were able to carry their own part. That was another little moment for me.

And in the middle of all of this, one of them spied this guy on the window screen outside.

So...that led to praying mantis admiring in the backyard as the sun was getting lower in the sky.

It felt like a quiet end-of-summer blessing.

Thinking about it now I want to hold it for just a second: my four kids, barefoot, fascination on their faces, everyone gathered round, night coming on.

We came back in and started a movie in my room. 

I nursed my baby and then she stopped and wanted to watch, too.  

That was repeated, but eventually on one of the subsequent tries, she finally crashed.

I put her in bed and went upstairs to scoop ice cream for the older kids.

And while they finished the movie, I cleaned up my messy kitchen, grateful for those small, few hours where things seemed to align and I felt gratitude and peace and purpose.

I need those moments of reminder and renewal, pretty much on the daily.

There's a quote I have on my fridge. 

I can still remember where I saw it.  I had gone in to drop off some documents at an office building.  I think? this is where I found it.

Anyway, these words were on the wall and I had to write them down, and then they came to rest on my fridge.

"It's hard work, but there's happiness in it."

It's meaningful work.

Purposeful work.

Yes.

That pretty much sums up what I feel about it. 

Just Another Thursday

This morning, I woke up thinking about iced raspberry pastries.

Mmm hmm.
(Because, why isn't this a good thought?)

I lay there, thinking about it for a while, how I would make them.

Individual pastries, like a danish?

I carried these thoughts in with me to the bathroom as I wondered whether it would be better as raspberry swirl bread?

And then, back in my bed, I settled on making mini sweet rolls, of sorts.

Gonna have to try that.

When I couldn't go back to sleep (Claire woke me up before 6:00 to nurse), I eventually turned my lamp on and read for a luxurious 45 minutes or so.  Claire kept coming in from being with the older kids -- she'd climb up on the bed, snuggle in, bargain with me to nurse again, or just sit and lean against me.  At one point, I sat there and stopped reading to watch her and I stroked her hair and face.  She sat there, quiet, leaning into my hand.  

It was beautiful.

Eventually, she got Goodnight Moon and we read it through together, followed by We're Going on a Bear Hunt -- just the two of us, in my bed.

Decided it was time to get up.

We padded upstairs.  The light streams in through all the windows upstairs in the morning, and it's a glorious thing.

I walked outside, and cold air hit my nose.  Looked at the leaves in the morning sunlight.

I found the older three busy in imaginative play.

They'd built a castle with blocks, and Mia was playing with her figurines inside of it. 

Isaiah and Benj had built new lego deals -- and Benj was wielding a sword like a madman, how he often does.  

I walked through the house, opening curtains, and feeling happy from watching them.

I made breakfast and read scriptures to them while they ate (it's often what we do).  

When I came to the term harlot, a lengthy discussion ensued.

We have discussed sex, openly, before, but we had a pretty explicit, direct, and simple explanation about it this morning. 

(I believe in speaking honestly and openly about stuff like this -- no spoon feeding, here.)

My favorite was Benji's immediate response, which cracks me up.  

I hope it gives you a laugh, too.

"Wait.  You guys did THAT??!!!"

Isaiah's face was a mixture of disbelief, amusement, and somewhere along the lines of disturbing.  

Their responses kind of cracked me up, but we talked about how it is sacred and beautiful and not something we talk about lightly or with friends or in jest.

Then, as we continued on with our reading after that diversion, we came to the part in 1 Nephi 13 where it talks about the plain and precious truths being removed from the Bible and how the Gentiles stumbled because of it.  When I asked why they were stumbling, I loved Isaiah's simple response:

"Because the scriptures got all messed up."

We talked about the beautiful promise of latter-day records, how precious truth would come again to the earth, and how all these records would teach the same thing: the reality of a Savior and Redeemer of the world.  

So super cool.

And awesome.

And beautiful.

We read stories (a good Zen tale, philosophizing on how to live in the present and focus on those you are with, and a nursery rhyme book for Claire).  Claire suddenly loves to be read to, too, and it makes me super happy to have a chum on my lap again.

Journal writing began and we had music on -- Alison Krauss and Union Station playing "Bright Sunny South," and I strutted around like a chicken.

Isaiah buried his face in embarrassment of his ridiculous mother.

Mia laughed.

Claire loved it, standing by the fireplace and grinning ear to ear.

As for the rest of the day?

I've declared it a fast-from-social-media day today, and vowed I will not open up Facebook or Instagram on my phone.  Not once.  So far so good, and fingers crossed.

Going to finish up school with the kids.

Need to call a local nursing home to find out if there are folks that never get visited that the kids and I could go visit (as a follow-up to our FHE discussion this week).

Pay bills.

Take a shower.

(I'm smiling here, because just as I wrote this, I could hear my dad's response to that in my head.  Sometimes, if you'd say that, he'd reply in kind of a funny voice and say, "Yes, thank you."  And I'll respond, now, by saying, "Mmm hmm.  Thanks, Dad.  Sure appreciate your affirming that I smell of sleep.")

Put all the laundry away in my room and make my bed.

Have the kids follow suit -- fold their laundry and clean their rooms.

And I'm headed to dinner tonight at my childhood home.

Getting to know the folks who bought it is a pleasure.

It's just another Thursday.