Its been quiet around here lately...

the kids drove up with John to bring our boy back home

the view from the ranch, the Tetons to look at in the distance

some quotes from Dr. Lowell Bennion. Founder of the Ranch and community activist, philanthropist and all around Christian man.

Mason with a fellow camper and owner of the ranch, Dick Jacobsen

Mason left on June 28, and came back July 17. He began with a week on the campus at BYU, enjoying Especially For Youth, a program where kids from all over the world (a couple in his group flew all the way from England) come to take classes, have fun, go to dances and be uplifted in keeping the standards of our church.

After a week of BYU Mason was driven, by his dad, up to Sky Mountain Ranch near Victor Idaho. For two weeks solid Mason worked the ranch and enjoyed the chance to learn leadership skills and become more service oriented. He applied to attend, and was selected by the owners/operators Dick and Sue Jacobsen. The ranch was begun by Lowell Bennion many years ago (Mr. Bennion is well known in the Salt Lake Valley for his tireless comittment to community service and the building of community centered youth-from teenagers to college co-eds.)

Mason had a great time.

Contrary to his predictions, we got along o.k. without him. Though things were a little quiet, we were willing to suffer the silence in order to build this boy into a good man.

She Wowed me..

notes of admiration and encouragement were plastered on the front door about an hour after the movie ended. Maybe next time Bryn won't leave by herself. Maybe her actions will encourage another to walk along with her in the future.

Brynley went to a birthday party. All the girls met at a local restaurant.
An hour into the festivities I got a phone call from the birthday girl's mother.
All the girls were going to a movie.
It was rated PG-13.
All the girls are 12 or under.
The mom was explaining that, uh hem, Brynley didn't feel good about going.
The mom then explained to me all the reasons it was o.k. that she did go (not a lot of swearing, good message, not a lot of kissing and on and on...).
I thanked the mother.
I asked for Bryn.
I said "wow, Bryn, what a tough spot. What do you want to do?" At this point I expected Brynley to tell me she wanted to go, she didn't want to get in trouble for wanting to go, and would I please understand and let her go.

Brynley said, "I don't feel like I should go."
I asked "want me to come and get you?"
she said, "no, they can bring me home..."

a little while later Bryn came skipping in. Smile on her face, relief in her eyes.
"You can always tell your friends your mom wouldn't let you..." i said, wanting to give support and help her out a little.
she said, "MOM! We take responsibility for the choices we make..."
No excuses for Brynley.
It was her choice to stand alone.
It was my privilege to stand with her.

That girl, she really wowed me. I'm so impressed by her. I'm so glad she walks before the other girls (and boys) in our home, showing them a better way.

Our Own Recovery Act...

Mr. Experience, the ill-informed plumber, digging a bit pit out of the dirt under our house. It was a smelly and painful job, hurting my heart as well as my budget.

Our first plumber felt that cutting into the foundation of our house and replacing some of the pipe would solve our recurring issue. He proved not to be the expert he professed. And as a reminder of my blind acceptance I have a scar in my basement floor and a very big hole in my pocket book.

I have literally spent HOURS talking and learning the ways of the plumber. This screen shows a picture of the camera that is being shoved down the pipes from our kitchen out to the city's watermain. 3 hours of footage was recording. "The dirtiest movie you'll ever see" was the title the plumber wrote on the dvd that I get to keep

the basement has been torn up since June 31. Carpet pulled up from the floors. And a make-shift wall placed between our living space and the area where the muck flowed freely.

the kitchenette cupboard has been removed and will be replaced, to ward off any offending bacteria from the many sewage overflows that spilled up and out of the sink...

The week before school ended I had a rooter company come out because our disposal was backing up into the basement sinks. That was the beginning of a very long string of unpleasant plumbing expenses which have ended with our Home Owner's Insurance rescuing our family from sewage stained carpets and unsavory plumbers. This experience has been expensive, frustrating, discouraging and unnerving on so very many levels. Having your basement torn up (with the threat of having it torn up more in order to solve the problem) has left me with lots of pent up frustration.

But the recovery is nearing the end.

Not so unlike our Nation's current economic issues, our problems were manageable to begin with. Then as we left the situation in the hands of people we were supposed to trust as experts, it became much much much worse. While our home owner's insurance definitely feels like a bail out of sorts, the true relief to the problem came when we finally stopped clawing away at a quick kind of fix and asked many experts to give their advice. Then we took the least expensive, most basic and most "old fashioned" option. It took more time this way, and we had to baby our sewage system as we tested the value of the solution. But this has proven the be the way we were able to solve the plumbing problem. We didn't need to throw more money into possibilities. We needed to sit back, think about it, and make decisions based on reason and not panic or emotion.

Over the next week our basement will be restored. With a few upgrades of our own, we'll be back to having the kids sleep in their beds and be able to watch movies on the tv and soak laundry in the sink. Until then we are in "recovery mode". Learning lessons about our inablility to manage too much mess, and feeling grateful that our recovery-though slow and a little bit painful-has been better than it surely could have been. Here's to the hope of what happens at the end of recovery; peace and prosperity...and the confidence that what goes down the disposal stays down the disposal for good ;)

If you call before 11 I won't be answering until September

popsicle jobs have a chore written on the end of the stick. I vary the jobs, and I repeat them too, so over the course of the summer the kids will do the same things just a few times. I introduce new jobs each summer depending on the ages of our kids. This year Mason is excused-he has a real part time job now, and he works for me when he's not there. And Lucy will begin her popsicle jobs next summer after she can read.

Porter does his math page. I'm not as strict as his teacher, as you can see he is adding with magic marker in hand instead of pencil and eraser...

the weekly "check list" which includes a room in our house which the children are to "keep up" each morning. Piano practicing is part of the weekly check list...

one of several pages injected into the summer journals, poems, sayings and scriptures the kids can memorize. I am shameless with this one; the kids earn full size candy bars for every two things they memorize. But I'm pretty difficult too, they have to say it to me, word perfect, an hour after they think they have it down...this way they keep repeating it in their heads over that long hour, and then I know for sure it is woven into the fabric of who they will become.

this is the 10th anniversary of our summer journal writing. It has been a hard year to keep this tradition going, but it is something I believe in, and something I want them to have for themselves as they walk forward into their adulthood.

every summer for the last 10 I have organized for my children a morning routine. It involves daily regular chores (make your bed, pick up your floor), a "popsicle job" which helps our family keep things running with everyone home (weed the garden 20 minutes or wipe down all the stainless in the kitchen or empty and load the dishwasher...). They write one page in their summer journal, which is full of prompts for them to write in (tell us about a perfect ski day...or write about why you admire your sister...things I want them to think about and record for their future enjoyment). There are book lists from which they read daily, and quotes and scriptures for them to memorize.

We make a family "summer fun list" that the kids keep in their journal as a reference. Then we try and do the fun things on the list. Today, for example, was "Baskin Robbins Day". Which meant that Porter got to use his "free single scoop ice cream" coupon that he's been holding carefully since before the end of school. All the kids who are home right now enjoyed single scoops. Ice cream trip; check.

And there is a place where the kids set goals for them to work on in the summer. One to improve their mind. One to improve their bodies. And one to improve and strengthen their spirit. And I set goals right along with them...

we all are home in the house on summer mornings, working and writing. I have the chance to train our kids (those popsicle jobs help me teach them things like how to weed or harvest a garden, and how to sort the laundry-not to mention how to clean the bathroom). This is my golden instruction time. I have taken it seriously for a decade of my summer life.

only this year my routines have been truly interrupted, with plumbing and swimming and general contracting of teenage hard labor. And I have felt ripped off. I want this time with my children. I need this time with them. To feel I am giving them what they will need to be good and useful adults. And for me to feel that while summer is free and fun and lazy and laid back, it is always good to develop our abilities and to become better individuals too.

So, for the rest of summer, our mornings will be like they used to. No phone calls before the summer work is done, no games or dance or swimming. No plumbers or carpet layers. No computer or blogging.

I'm claiming my summer again.

A short story about Mothering...

My mom and I, working together. She is the best mom ever, and I'm so glad I get to belong to her.

On the eve of John's birthday party I realized I was in way over my head. Projects in the house, and gearing up two kids for summer camp and EFY along with centerpieces, dirty dishes, outdoor tables and...you can get the picture.

I was not going to make it on my own. I said a little prayer. I didn't know what to do.

Then I felt this little feeling, "you can call your parents."

Let me tell you a little about my parents right now. My dad spends hours each week visiting with his aged father. Grandpa, so dear to all of us, is in his early nineties. He lost his wife last month. Many mornings he wakes up and doesn't remember she is gone. My dad's face is one of the few he recognizes again and again. My dad is carrying his father quite literally upon his shoulders.

My mom visits her father in a rest home 30 minutes from her house several days each week. Grandpa can no longer communicate well because of a disease which has taken away the functions of his muscles. He has to have help to eat, bathe, and move. My loyal and tender mother has done all she can to make his life comfortable and to make his life happy as he endures the end of his days.

My parents, both in their 60's, are the parents to a little 7 year old wonder. Bringing him, quite literally, out of the shadow of death, my parents meet Alex's every need with determination to help him progress and excel. Alex faces physical and social challenges every day, but my mom and dad are his mom and dad, and they are wonderful dutiful and loving parents.

So, when the feeling was "you can call your parents." I didn't want to trouble them. My problems were my own, and in the scheme of the broader picture they didn't matter much. Yet, as I worried more about the deadlines in front of me, I gave in to the tugging feeling and called mom and dad to come to my rescue.

And they rescued me indeed. Dad hung pictures. Mom did dishes. Daddy read stories to my little girls so they'd go off to sleep. And at 10 o'clock at night, after a hard evening's labor, they were there with me in the house when my sewage pipes overflowed

right on to the basement carpet...

right onto the laundry room floor...

Dad helped plunge the plug.
Mom helped me wipe up the sludge.
Daddy took Alex home to his bed, and mom stayed vigillently by my side until all we could clean up was cleaned.

You know, a few weeks ago my mom was crying. Sad she couldn't be "the mother she wanted" to be. Raising a little boy and caring for an aging parent puts my mom in the squeeze.

But that night, as we tried to laugh over bleaching the sink and wiping the floors, she was the perfect mother to me.

"you can call your parents." I'm so glad I listened to that little small voice.

Feeling like I used to for just a few minutes...

This little fella is the nephew of my sister in law.
His parents let me hold for a minute the other night.
As I put him in my arms I could literally feel my heartbeat slow.
A Calm came over me.
A peace I have been missing.

This is who I have been for most all of the last 15 years.
A mother with a baby.
It has been a great part of my identity.
I've worn my babies like a great accessory.
They have identified my style. My persona. My being.
I have been a mother to a babe-in-arms until about 18 months ago.

I haven't really felt like myself since then.
It was nice to feel like I used to for just a few minutes.
I didn't even mind when he threw up on my shoulder.
I would have kept him longer.

But, sadly, I'm not his mother.

OK, here is the best part of our summer so far...

an old fashioned ice cream social. I brought toppings and cones and bowls. Friends brought home made and favorite-flovored ice cream..

my children mingle amidst friends from college, graduate school, and our neighborhood here at the Spruces

A book for friends to leave good wishes, sprinkled with words that describe the birthday boy...

These were the women I brought my first baby home to. Velma, center, was our landlord. Tricia, right had a baby just 8 weeks before us an dlived in the basement. Lois lived downstairs, and loved to hold Mason in her lap. All came to wish John a happy 40th. It was a wonderful reunion.

yellow sunflowers and vintage game pieces along with candles in old fashioned ice cream dishes were the centerpieces for the evening. John LOVES games, thus the game pieces. I love to entertain, thus the flowers and candles...

John turned 40.
And I threw him a party.
He went away for the weekend.
We worked like crazy while he was gone.
He came home. early.
The party was almost ready.
Then our backyard filled up with friends new and very old. We were both surprised at who and how many we enjoyed.
The back yard was perfect for a good old fashioned ice cream social.
Because our back yard is kind of old fashioned.
We loved every minute of the hot summer evening.
Thanks to my family for being such a help (my parents especially and Mandy and Jessa)
Thanks to our kids for hanging in there to get things "ready for dad's day".
Thanks to John for living 40 years worth celebrating.
Thanks to all who joined us to celebrate with us.

Almost caught up with our Summer...

Porter acts as an anthropologist, digging for fossils left behind in Jurrassic era Lake Bonneville

she is the apple of my daughters' eyes. All of my girls adore Jenna. And she oozes love and goodness all over them whenever she comes to town.

After a weekend running Ragnar, we enjoyed time spent with Jenna. She and her sister, Carine, had come to town for Carine to attend an academic camp at BYU (go smarty pants Carine!). It is always a pleasure having Jenna around-and this year she came with her own set of wheels...she delivered kids to practices and play dates, she babysat and ran errands, and we tried to have a little fun with her as well at the neighborhood shave-ice shak. Thanks for coming Jenna!

While Jenna was here I got to take Porter and his cub scout troop up to a full day of camp. While life in the valley was nutty and full, I sat in the mountains and watched my child learn about the world around him, enjoy the beauties of nature, and be re-introduced to values I believe in. My mom and Jenna managed the chaos of our daily life at the Spruces and allowed me a day with one of my own-a breath of fresh air and a taste of perspective.

Just when you thought this was all we could fit into the busy month of June...check back tomorrow for the crowning activities of this crazy first month of summer.

and, no, I haven't forgotten about summer journal downloads. My tech support is away on business, I'll post it as soon as I can!

On to the Wasatch Back...

The Graham Family Car became 'Van 1' for the duration of our race.

The 6 if us in the first van of runners shared a total of 27 kids. We each tatooed the names and ages of our progeny on the windows of the car like a badge of honor.

That's me, far right, with butterflies in my stomach before my last run. I covered about 19 miles on my 3 "legs" of the race. The last was my most challenging. An 8 mile run with a huge elevation gain, about 4 miles of the run was straight up. The discouragement set in at about mile 3, but then I saw a deer climb straight up the mountainside, and I figured if he could do it, so then could I. That motivation was short lived, by mile 4 I was really sagging. My team mates pulled over at about mile 5 and put on our "team costume" tu-tus to cheer and wave me on. That was the lift my spirits needed, I almost cried at their efforts to encourage me. I finished my leg 15 minutes ahead of the time I had set as a goal for my run. As I crossed the finish line and checked my watch for my time I started to scream with joy for the way "I won!" that 8 mile leg of the race.

All the runners in our van live within a 2 mile radius near the Spruces. It was fun to get to know girls who are no longer just neighbors, but now friends.

And she is the reason I ran it at all. My dear friend Erin, From our Pacer Way days. Erin organized EVERYTHING, from the estimated times, to the volunteers for our team, even the color coordinated shirts at the finish line. She had the cool hats made, and made the tu-tus herself. And a "goody bag" filled with baby wipes and chapstick and other essential and not-so-essential items were handed to each of us by her. She made the race possible, and then she made it fun. I am in awe of the way this woman thinks of details, and of her friendship toward me and her goodness toward all.

Crazy busy summer continued when I joined Erin and some neighbor girls on the Wasatch Back Relay. This is my 4th relay, and it was one for the record books. My runs were as fast as they ever will be, I got to shower and sleep in a bed for a few of the 36 hours it took our team of 11 women to run 188 miles. The weather was spectacular. The company fantastic. Yep, I think this can be my final Ragnar...but I've learned to never say never....

Catching Up with our Summer so Far...

Early Father's Day due to the fact that John needed a U.S. jersey BEFORE the world cup began instead of a week after. Soccer games have been the music of our lives since the Cup's opener in RSA. We are proud of Africa, especially the country we for a short time called home.

A church camp-out in Heber prompted a trip to Granny's burgers and shakes on Main Street in that beautiful town. The camp out that followed was nearly rained out, but we still enjoyed time line dancing, eating yummy food with great people, and sleeping "in a cabin tent" in the beautiful setting of HeberValley Camp.

Bryn and friends finish a year of dance training with performances spanning a week's time. The girls called their costume "Brittany Spears School girl". This prompted a change of dance studio, as I don't support "Brittany Spears" anything...

A wonderful evening spent with my cousins and their children. Bar-b-que and conversation mixed with fun games for the kids. Here, Sarah from Boston and Tricia from Draper visit. It was freezing cold. Still, none of us hurried home. Visiting with family is one of the greatest joys of living in Salt Lake for me.

Mason became a "brace face". He will be metal-mouthed for the next 18-24 months. Madi followed soon after. I never experienced braces, my heart has been pained for them as they've rubbed wax on their new metal companions and have asked that we cut everything from corn on the cob to hamburgers for them. Somehow the braces make them both look older. Mason really looks like a man-child these days. Madi is a beautiful young lady.

Summer speeds by so quickly this year. Another installment of our summer follows tomorrow. Wednesday you will see here our Summer journals and, if possible, I'll have attachments you can copy. These, along with our clip board chore charts, have been requested by friends and readers for years. I'll try to make it happen, promise I will!

How fast is your summer speeding by? What are you doing to make it lazy and memorable for your children?

The next part of our summer

Jess preps for 3 or so hours in the saddle. She was nervous for the distance but performed like a true athlete. Way to go Jess!

Mandy is an amazing cyclist herself, and for good reason. Her husband is some uber-rider who wins race after race every summer. 60 miles was probably no big deal for Mandy, but she stayed with us and was fun and happy to keep her pace slow for her two pokey sisters.

I rode my bike 60 miles the day after Porter's birthday party (that is the longest I have ever propelled my own body in one time frame. Ever).

Went with my sisters Jessa and Mandy. We rocked the "Little Red Riding Hood" ride, finished in great time and had a blast. I scored a new wind breaker as a prize for being so speedy (John is my personal sponsor-he provides all my triathlon gear, right out of his pocketbook. And I don't even have to wear his logo plastered all over me. You should buy contact lenses from his company to help support my training ;)

I was a total stress case about doing the race, with the 8 year old's birthday party the night before and then a big special event the next day (Porter's baptism). I left John a huge "honey do" list and felt extreme guilt the entire ride up to the start line.

Then we started riding our bikes. The course was flat, and through these very darling small towns in Cache Valley. Some of the most picturesque scenes in the state of Utah. My sisters are such great company, and the weather was fantastic. My worries and stress melted as I got a good cadence going and could hear my breathing increase. Whatever chemicals are released into my blood stream as a result of exercise are just like prozac or some other kind of "happy drug" for me-as those nice feeling chemicals were pumping I felt like myself; the strong and happy self, the one who doesn't freak out over little things. The one who is grateful for the experiences of life instead of dread-filled at facing them.

We made it home in time for me to show John how thankful I was for all he had accomplished that day (he got EVERYTHING on the to-do list done. He is superman!). My saddle began to be a little sore, but other than that my recovery was fast and I was happy and ready for the baptism and family/neighborhood gathering in the back yard the very next day.

And that was the next part of our summer.

How our Summer Began

Porter and Luke strut their stuff in the back yard...

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A basement full of boys watch movies, for a while. Most of them were back outside wrestling down the football before the show was over...is it attention span or sheer boyhood aggression that drove them out to play?

Ice Cream Cake is always the requested dessert of choice for Porter's Happy Birthday. This year we were joined by several adult party goers for singing etc. as John hosted his monthly game night in the library while Porter partied through out the house.

Porter prepares for his baptism. Dressed in white, he and John pose at the church before the ordinance.

The Last Day of School was the first day of Porter's 8th year. A party full of enthusiastic boys followed the excitement of school's end. We thought having John's "First Friday Game Night" would not interfere with the party. In fact, it was the opposite. The party interfered with the men's board game experience as I had to ask John to help me round up the boys (think; herding cats...) for pizza and dinner. The highlight? Ordering the pizza on line and not realizing we had changed the delivery address to have the pizza sent to our friends' house in BOISE (from our recent trip there). When Susie called and told us a kid from Papa John's just showed up with 4 pizzas at her front door we knew we were in trouble...

Porter's birthday was closely followed by his baptism. Porter was interviewed by our local church leader (our bishop) and found prepared to take this important step. Porter was excited for this experience, which of course truly pleased his parents. This is a boy who will wrestle with his friends until they cry and intimidate babysitters with his forceful demeanor. And yet, I get to hear him pray each night for a prophet who he loves and wants to follow. While his teacher found him choosing to read comics in the back of the classroom instead of listening to her instruction I have found him with his new scriptures open, looking up verses that "teach him about God and Christ."

There is a story in the Book of Mormon about a group of young men, teenagers, who had been taught to follow the teachings of Christ by their parents, especially their mothers. In a time of war these boys vowed to serve their country and to protect their parents who had, as a result of past aggression and then conversion, made covenant with God to lay down their swords forever. The boys stepped in and stepped up-they protected their families and their nation because they had been too young to covenant. Though they were very young, they were bold and they were good. They fought valiantly and with faith that God would watch over them. What is most impressive to me is that they knew that fighting was not the best way-but that it was the only way to protect their families. They were defenders of faith and family, not aggressors against those ideals. These young men are known in Mormon culture as "stripling warriors". They are heroes in our history. They are a standard for boys to look up to.

I believe the little boys of today are the stripling warriors of tomorrow. I believe Porter came with the ability and resolve to stand and defend the faith his mother is trying to teach him. I hope I can be a mother who introduces and then exemplifies the loving kindness of Jesus Christ and the commandments He wants us to keep. If I do, this little boy with the big huge spirit will be ready someday to step up-on a battlefield, in a classroom, or in a crowd of peers-and defend the faith his mother has taught him.

Happy birthday to Porter. And more tenderly, happy baptism. These joyful events were the "begin it with a bang" way we started our short but sweet summer.

Almost ready for summer...

Taken the last day I posted on this blog; June 3. 2010
Elementary school carnival, the start of summer for the Grahams

I'm almost ready for summer to start. The problem is that it started June 3. In the past 12 days we've had birthdays, baptisms, bike rides, floods, Father's Day (a little early this year) and camp outs in rainy conditions, not to mention braces for our oldest and a considerable back yard make-over. Swim team, dance company, rugby camp, and basketball clinic have also been a big part of the past 12 days. As well as this mother slave driving the teenage son in order to provide vital life experience in the field of working for a living...

Come Monday we will have also had one more Wasatch Back Relay under my belt, and our real first taste of summer (can you say 'new picnic table'? Al Fresco dining all summer long) will finally be here.

Check back on MOnday for pictures of POrter's birthday et al., some recipes coming your way in time for summer grilling and a peek at this year's summer journals and chore charts.

Wish me luck on the Ragnar! I'm almost ready, but its here.
I think I was just telling you about that.......

Promotion, Again

Some of the many friends who are quite literally at the center of Brynley's world right now.

Grandma Graham and Grandma Noodle rearranged their schedules to celebrate Bryn. Thank you!

Brynley receives her promotion certificate from one of her 6th grade teachers. They have enjoyed her as a student. And for good reason.

Brynley was promoted today from elementary school into Jr. high. This experience resembled last year's experience when she was promoted-elementary school in Texas ends in 5th grade. Elementary school in Utah? 6th.

Two stark differences; The first; Brynley was visibly more happy-she was comfortable with friends she knew she would see in the halls of her school next year. Sad to leave the comforts of a small-ish elementary? no. Bryn was academically and socially ready for "middle school" last year, she has patiently waited for her chance to move on through out this 6th grade experience. Her cheerful participation in the program as well as the smiles and giggles she shared through the day were evident of this "promoted" young woman.

The Second? Grandma and Grandma and DAD were there. She didn't do it alone (because last year "mom didn't count. You have to be at everything!)...her loving grandmothers were there to show their love and support. Mothers of her friends gave hugs and approval. Dad was there to congratulate and adore.

I'm very happy with who Brynley is becoming day by day. I'm happy with her kindness toward others. I'm happy with the standards she keeps. I'm happy with the way she is working to obtain knowledge and the way she is trying to stretch and grow. I'm happy for the times when she still likes to be my little girl. And I'm happy for the times when she shows much just how much she deserves to be "promoted" from kid to young lady.
Congratulations Brynley

Molly's magic

Madi is treated to georgous nails as her hair is made silky smooth. Molly, you've got the touch and we had so much fun with you!

My brother Ty is married to my sister (in law) Katie. Katie is a sister to Molly, who lives about 10 minutes from our house and who knows how to work some magic...

Hair magic, to be exact!

Molly is an expert in all things beauty. Being a beauty herself, it probably comes naturally to her. But for us, the Grahams, we like to watch and learn from such a talent as she.

Last week, amid the complete chaos that is the end of the school year, I dropped Madi by Molly's "salon" for a little spa treatment in preparation for summer. Madi's "swim team hair" was feeling a bit stiff, and with a little break before summer swim team starts, I thought Molly might be able to get Madi's locks to smooth and and soften up. Molly was amazing. She researched products, purchased supplies and pampered Madi while teaching her how to care for her hair during swim team season. She washed, treated, conditioned and restored Madi's beautiful hair to its soft and wave-filled state. While Madi's locks were being babied back to health Molly treated Madi to a mini manicure. We left the salon with everything Madi needed to keep her hair soft and bouncy even in the height of chlorine-filled work outs. Molly, you are awesome!

We are so lucky to know Molly, and we recommend her to any of you who need beautification of any flavor. She is amazing with color, cut, style. She can wax, manicure, pedicure and the like. She is so incredible in her craft and we are so lucky to know her. Thanks Ms. Molly! See you again soon!

Our Memorial Day Weekend

She was not yet 12 when she became my "Mother's Helper". Now, at 17, this beautiful graduate is a friend and an adored part of our family.

Jenna graduated on Saturday, so in the name of family celebrations we spent the weekend in Boise. We bunked at the Johnson's and were treated like family, special family. We got to rub shoulders with neighbors we love, and most of all we got to be around Jenna.

Jenna's graduation from high school is a huge accomplishment, and as her surrogate mother I wanted to be around her, in the background and on the sideline, so she could see that I am proud proud to call her one of my own...

Of course, this is to take NOTHING away from her first and forever mother, Susie, who is a sister to me in every sense. Susie is a friend who can come in unannounced, sit at my table and be herself while I be myself at home. She has refrigerator rights at my house, and I have the same at hers. We love each other like sisters. And I am watching as she is raising her children just a few years ahead of my own.

We loved playing games, letting our kids romp around the neighborhood, playing more games and eating junk food. We watched movies, we watched dance-off competitions and we watched Jenna as she floated in and out of the house going from commencement to party to playdate with friends whose doors have swung open as wide as hers-the world waiting for them to "step out" and step up and add something to its goodness and glory.

Thanks Johnsons for the wonderful weekend. Thank you "Grandma Marie" for sharing your precious grandchildren with us and for sharing your daughter Susie as well. Thanks Jenna for your good example and the wonder of who you are. Thanks to Boise friends, who are family, for welcoming us back into your neighborhood for a wonderful long weekend.