Quiet Saturday

I've been away from this space for too long. For hours I've been wanting to write, but every time I sit down I find something to distract me-- Facebook, Pinterest, Blogs and laundry.

I don't know why I'm resisting my blog so much lately. Maybe because I've been away so long, it's hard to know where to start.

The house is quiet right now-- just the soft warm whirl of the dryer finishing its last load. Rick took the boys to REI and the comic book store, and probably out to lunch too. I was folding clothes in the boys room, and I looked at the beds they made themselves this morning. Mason had his puppy laid on top of his slightly crumpled quilt, with his blue blanket laid carefully on top of his puppy. It was so cute it almost made me want to cry. I love their little rumpled beds that they make and show me with such pride. I love that they take care of their little treasures with such love and care. They are the best little boys.

The other day Mason came up to me and held on to both of my hands while looking at me with his big brown eyes, his eyebrows raised high (my signal that he's trying to tell me something really important to him). He said "Mom do you know what my favorite color is?" "What?" I asked him trying to match his excitement. He said "Red and blue, and the color of your eyes." Goodness. What a sweet boy. He tells me and shows me all the time that he loves me.

Vaughn does too, but he has his own cute ways of showing it. A couple of weeks ago, he gave me a necklace that he had been working hard to make and surprise me with. It was made with beads from his treasure box (he loves those beads), and peppermint dental floss. He gave me the necklace proudly and said "Here Mom! I made you this necklace! And it's even your favorite flavor, so if you get hungry you can chew on it!" (He knows I love peppermint). It made me laugh. He's so cute and sweet.

We just got back yesterday from a week in Utah. It was so nice spending time with family and seeing some friends. My nieces and nephews are so cute, and my boys have so much fun playing with them. We had fun going to parks, going to a climbing gym (Vaughn did an awesome job climbing some really high walls to the top), and doing a fun Mommy and me Zumba class (We all loved it!).

It's nice to be back home though with Rick. He's been working so hard this year getting our family prepared for emergencies. Each month we have laid out what we will work on that month, so that by the end of the year we will have a good system in place for emergencies and preparedness. He's been so great about sticking with our plan, and I love how much time and effort he's putting into it. This month our focus was to get 72 hour kits ready for all of us. We came home with all of our supplies laid out, and nice new packs for each of us. We put them all together, and today he's making information cards for all of us so we'll be all prepared. He's a great Dad and husband.

The biggest news and change that is happening in our family, is that we are expecting a new baby boy in August. We are so excited for another baby to come to our family. We are going to name him Conrad, but we haven't figured out a middle name yet. So far in the ultrasounds I have had, he is a very active and crazy baby. He jumps and jumps around like my uterus is a trampoline. In my first ultrasound with him, me, the doctor, and the ultrasound tech in the room laughed and laughed at him. I've never seen a baby move the way he was moving. I feel him on a regular basis now, several times a day and night. I already love our crazy baby so much.

I must say goodbye for now, but hopefully I'll be back soon. I want to post my Grandma's laundry advice that I took detailed notes of while I was staying with her this week (I am determined to have my laundry smell as sweet, feel as soft, and look as clean as my Grandma's laundry!). Rick and I took a trip to Hawaii last month that I need to document. We camped on the beach, and it was wonderful!

Dear Adam,

It's quiet in the house tonight.  The boys are tucked into bed and Dad, who isn't feeling good, is already asleep.  I am thinking about you.  My mind runs over and over the details of what I remember of you.  That kicking and moving in my belly for months.  The sweetness and shyness that I felt was your personality.  The love I felt for you through my entire pregnancy.  And that sad day one year ago, when they hooked me up to the monitors and the familiar heartbeat that I had heard at so many appointments, instead was silence.  I knew you were gone the moment I heard that silence, and that there was nothing I could do to change it.

Oh how I want you here with me sweet boy.  Sleeping in a crib down the hall from me, tired from the day of celebrations for your first birthday.

I held you that day one year ago.  You were beautiful.  I wanted you to open your eyes and to know what color they were.  I wanted to hear the sound of your cry.  I wanted to feel warmth coming from your skin.

I love you, Adam.  You are teaching me every day about love, about patience, about gratitude, about family, and the things that matter the most in this life.  Your life and death has humbled me, strengthened my faith, and made me want to work harder in life, and be the person that God wants me to be.

I hope you can know how much I love you.  How much I wish you were here with us.  We all love you, and look forward to the day that we can hold you again.

Love forever,

Mom

Home

Doodle I did yesterday while the kids played at the park.

I don't normally scan my doodles in, but it goes along with my thoughts today.

What matters is to live in the present, live now, for every moment is now. It is your thoughts and acts of the moment that create your future. The outline of your future path already exists, for you created its pattern by your past. --Sai Baba 

You must pass your days in song. Let your whole life be a song. 
--Sai Baba 

In my music class that I've been teaching, we have a little exercise that we play where I hold my hand up to my ear and whisper, where is home?  The kids then get their little hands in the do position and we sing "do is home" together, and then hum the note to make sure we are all on do.  We then sing a song called "Chords in Pieces" where we sing the tonic, sub-dominant, and dominant chords broken into pieces, reinforcing this concept, and helping the kids understand these chords (which make up about 90% of all music) using most of their senses.

In music, finding and knowing that tonal center is one of the most basic and most important things to feel and understand.  All notes pull toward it, all tensions resolve back to that tonal center.

The older I get, the more I recognize and see patterns in my life-- in music, in nature, in my own body, and in my behavior and relationships with others.  Just like in music, my life is filled with tensions-- harmony and dissonance, major and minor, variations on themes, but I am always able to return back to "home."  It is hard for me to put into words what this center is-- it is something that I can feel inside me (when I am working against it, or working toward it).  I feel it in quiet moments like yesterday while I sat and doodled while my kids ran around playing with friends at the park-- bright little bobs of hair flashing in sunshine.  I feel it every time Rick walks in the door from work-- my whole body and mind give a big sigh and smile, oh good, he's home.  I feel it when I'm outside, somewhere beautiful, or inside playing with my family.  I even feel it in the middle of hard work, or a creative project I'm involved in.  I know where home is when I am there.

As a parent I feel that one of the most important things I can do, is to help my children have a strong sense of self-- of "home."  I know of no other way to do this, but to love them, unconditionally, for who they are.  To respond to their needs, and to communicate that love to them every day in ways that are meaningful to them and that they respond to.  To get out of their way when it comes to developing their own unique talents, and to give them opportunities to learn, grow, and become self-sufficient.  

I think my parents did a very good job of giving me and my brothers a strong sense of self.  Though I have wandered far from that center at times in my life, and have given my parents plenty of hours of worry, it was not hard to find my way back to that center.  I knew at the core who I was, and what made me feel happy.

I hear things sometimes about trying to find balance in life.  I'm not sure exactly what that means, but I think I am through trying to find balance.  I will instead know that I am creating a pattern.  That there will be times of up and down, but that these cycles that I find myself in are part of this pattern, and that the pattern of my life is a beautiful one.  I can look back and see that.  I will enjoy myself in moments of happiness, in moments of sorrow, in play, and in tears, because I know that they will all resolve back to home.  And home is a wonderful place to be.

Catch-Up, a Bit of Complaining About my Messy Kids, and Awesome Things

It's about time for a new post on here.  I don't have anything especially special to say, so I guess I'll try playing a little catch-up.

I've failed to document our trip to Michigan this summer (it was awesome), a trip to Seattle and Portland as a family (it was also awesome), a trip (or two?) to Utah, including the one above from last week, where it snowed and snowed on us and Vaughn played in it every chance he got.  I also took a trip by myself to visit Rick's sister, Peggy, in Arizona.  I was really struggling, and it was the perfect getaway for me.  I love Peggy.  She's amazing.  We've also had some visitors, and lots of fun playing with friends and family.

Life is good.

But tonight I feel tired.  I don't know why they call Sunday a day of rest.  Day of rest my butt.  I spent hours last night cleaning my house-- straightening, scrubbing, vacuuming, dusting, while Rick and the boys wrestled around doing "moves" on each other (my favorite is Rick's "secret weapon" where he picks Mason up, feet forward, and starts tickling him.  Mason kicks his legs and laughs like crazy and Rick chases Vaughn around the room with those kicking feet.  He calls it "the tickler", and it makes us all laugh).  I went to bed and the house was spotless.  I was hoping that it would make my day today more quiet, peaceful, and restful.  It didn't really work.

By dinner time today it was a disaster.  Church stuff strewn about, clothes all over, costumes all over, cushions and pillows all over, art supplies all over.  This is the first time all day that I've sat down to relax and have some time to myself.  I feel like a bit of a failure, since I obviously haven't taught my kids how to pick up after themselves.  I guess I will need to work on that.

Anyway...I didn't really mean to come on here and just complain.  Like I said-- life is good, and here are some things that I'm enjoying:

• I got called as the primary chorister.  It's my dream calling.  I love music and I love kids.  I am also learning a lot in just the few weeks that I've been there.  I also have an awesome husband who has been helping me with some of my visual aids.  
• Rick and I started our own book club-- just the two of us.  Both of us love reading, and almost always read for an hour or two before bed, but we've never actually read any books together at the same time.  So we've been reading a chapter a night, and are taking turns picking books.  Right now we are reading The Basque History of the World, by Mark Kurlansky.  Rick picked it, and it's really interesting.  I really knew pretty much nothing about the Basques before reading this book, and they have a fascinating and very ancient history.  Now I need to decide what to read next.  It can't be a book that either of us have read, and we are trying to alternate fiction with non-fiction.  Any suggestions?
• I went and saw the move Lincoln yesterday.  Ahhhhhh.  So good.  I just sat in the theater and cried through parts of the movie.  He is my favorite president ever.  What a good man.  Excellent movie.  I also love the book that it's based on-- Team of Rivals, by Doris Kearns Goodwin.    
• My friend and I started a "Forest School Friday" for our kids, and a couple of other kids from the neighborhood.  My sister-in-law told me about forest schools in Europe, and I've been interested in them ever since.  Ours isn't exactly like the ones that I've read about-- we are making it our own little adventure, and I'm sure it will grow and change, but for now we plan on meeting in the same spot each week (in the beautiful Red Rock Canyon), sitting and doing a lesson for the first hour-- my friend is going to work with the older kids, while I work with the younger kids-- music, drawing, writing, microscope, magnifying glasses, themes, stories etc...  Then for the second hour we let them hike, climb and explore.  It was so much fun on Friday (our first time out).  I'm excited to continue!  Here are a few pictures:

Vaughn isn't picking his nose-- just drinking water from his camelback.

Me and Mason

Baby Roma.  Love her.  She was the only girl (besides me and Janet) there.  She can totally hold her own!

Well that's all I've got in me for now.  We are going to Arizona for Thanksgiving, and we're excited about that.  And now The Basque History of the World, and Rick await me...

66th for the Best Dad

Today is my Dad's birthday.  I've been thinking about him all week.  The other night we talked for several hours on the phone.  He was talking about poetry, religion, and his life.  He quoted Harold Bloom, who wrote "Religion is the poetry, not the opiate of the masses."  My Dad was talking about how he feels this way about religion, and his own life-- that he approaches it the same way that he approaches poetry.  That at first there is this wall when he is trying to look at things in a literal way, and trying to understand his life, but that when he gives it time, and instead of trying to understand it, he begins to relax, that slowly he begins to understand and see things more clearly.

Though I can hardly recount exactly what my Dad was saying, or what he meant by it, it's given me something to think about since we talked.  I think it's a beautiful way to look at religion and life-- like poetry.  You can read a poem, and an apple within the poem can literally be an apple, but it can also be a million different things, depending on who is reading it, and where they are in that moment with the poem.  There are layers and layers of meaning-- always changing and becoming more.  One of the worst things you can do with a poem is to sit down with it, read it once, and ask "what does it mean?"  You have to listen to its sounds, feel its rhythm, look at the images within it and the relationship between them, and then ask what it makes you feel, and what it means to you-- if it connects to other stories, images, or experiences in your life.  If it is something that resonates within you, then you should read it again and again, until you begin to "understand" it.

I think too often we look at life-- religion, politics, our relationships, and ask "what does it mean?"  We limit our focus to a hyper-literal one, and we loose a shared understanding of those sounds, rhythms, and images.  We loose our ability to communicate with the deepest parts of ourselves, and with others as well.

I love that conversation with my Dad, and the direction it's given my thoughts this week.

I'm so lucky to have been born to parents who I love and respect.  My Dad is one of the most interesting, wise, and loving people that I know.  I can listen to him talk for hours about subjects that he's interested in and never get bored.  I wish somehow I could bottle those conversations up, and replay them later on.

He not only talks about interesting things, but lives his life in an interesting way.  I have never known my Dad when he wasn't really interested and involved in some pursuit of his.  At the moment he spends his days reading and studying poetry, studying Spanish for hours a day (because he's always wanted to learn it and he and my Mom are on a service mission for the LDS church in a Spanish-speaking branch), takes sewing classes, and sews amazing things, works in his wood shop making beautiful furniture and boxes, plants and harvests a huge garden every year, and runs after his grandchildren in his spare time.  His house is full of watercolor paintings that he's painted, as well as prints of some of his favorite artists.

My Dad's voice, and the way that he's lived his life has shaped my interests, my loves, and the way that I see the world.  My love of nature was gained on the many backpacking trips we took through craggy Utah wilderness and desert.  My love of music was learned in his arms while he sang to me.  My love of words and stories was learned in the stories he told to us again and again.

Mostly though, he's taught me how to love and be loved.  I wouldn't pick a different person to be my Dad if I had all the Dads in the world to choose from.

Love you Dad!  Happy Birthday.

Love,
Your Favorite Daughter
:-)