Feeling unprepared

We are just over a week before leaving Texas, and for all the time we've known we would go I can't believe how NOT ready I am to head out. The to-do list is pages long, and the uncertainty of our destination has been a bit consuming (organize the move, or look at houses on the internet? tough choice don't you agree?). Now my little girls are out of school, my big kids are finishing up, and I see that our time here is nearly coming to a close.

So many things I had wanted to squeeze in before we left. But time and means are now very minimal, so the wants will have go, well, wanting. Still, I can give you a little list of places I wanted to haunt before our time was through. Maybe my Texas friends can visit them in my place, and think of me when they go;

1. One more trip to Canton, to really dig into the flea market finds
2. Another visit to Sammy's Bar-b-Que
3. An outing at Mia's for Lunch
4. Another slice of panini heaven
5. A visit to Northpark swanky Mall
6. a stroll down Knox Henderson-especially the other side of Central Expressway
7. A visit to Wisteria outlet and I also wish that Ivy Jane was having just one more sale!
8. A lunch date with Laura Asay (love you Laura, you very busy friend!)
9. Lunch with the girls here in my neighborhood-I'll miss you 5th ward homies!
10. a trip to the moda warehouse, I'd love to scour for fabrics one last time!
11. Snyder plaza
12. Lovers and Inwood
13. RoLLER CoASTers at 6 Flags; in my many years of Texas living, I've missed this and I can't believe I'm going to miss it again!

As you can see, most of these destinations involve shopping or eating. Neither of which will benefit my overall self right now. So they will stay here, on this list. And maybe if I get to come back to this spot for a visit or to run a race or something (Ragnar is in October, right?) then I'll get to enjoy one or two of these field trips and act like the tourist I'll be

because soon I will no longer be a local...Utah here we come.

A Life well lived

John and I attended the memorial services for a friend, Marcy Gilliland, who passed away Monday after battling with an auto-immune disease which slowly sapped the oxygen from Marcy over the course of the last year until finally her body could not breath for itself any longer. Marcy was the wife of one of John's Texas colleagues, and an individual John and I felt it a privilege to know.

I was touched by the way Marcy was celebrated today. A loyal and sympathetic friend. A selfless mother. A loving and devoted wife. "The legacy of her Christ-like life is the stalwart faith of her children." Her courage in the face of trial, her willingness to trust God; all these things which make of a person a saint and a disciple.

My heart aches for her husband, for her children who are left without her. In the peace and joy of Marcy having fought the good fight, and the sure understanding that she has been brought home to a loving Father in Heaven there is still the sadness of loss, and the curiosity of the eternal future. I appreciated the sermon the preacher gave, one in which the resurrection of Christ was celebrated and the surety that the sting of death is taken by the risen Lord. The twinge of sadness lingered that in his sermon the pastor could not promise them a forever family. He does not have that power, nor does he hold that belief.

But I do believe in bonds of love that can last beyond the grave. Sanctioned and sealed by a God who loves His children and who has made a way for them to have the joy of family relationships forever.

And in the coming months and years I hope this wonderful Christ-following family might have the peace and promise of knowing that through Jesus Christ, the same Savior that Marcy devoted her life to serving, a way has been made that she can be mother and wife forever-that death does not have to disintegrate that bond, that role and that joy. Families were meant to last beyond this life and into the eternities. Icing on the cake. Peace when tragedy strikes. A hope to cling to when our natural selves begin to doubt and we have to process the reasons why.

Thank you Ms. Marcy, for all you have lived to stand for. I feel it a pleasure to have known you and hope I can craft a life so well lived...

Lucy's ready, but I'm not

Lucy took her diaper off twice yesterday and climbed up onto the toilet. It has always seemed so far away, the time when she would use this piece of plumbing, because Lucy is such a peanut she hasn't yet been ready to straddle it. But now she can. And as of last night she has decided that she will.

And I have nothing more to do than potty train a toddler, right?

We bought the panties clear last month, when sister-in-law Jody was here for a visit. The day has been looming, and now it is here.

The irony? Not one soul had come into our home to "shop" it for the entire month of May. Until now. We had a looker last weekend and another one comes in today. Here's hoping that by waiting until Lucy is beyond 3 years old to begin, she'll pick up this skill real quick-like.

Almost done with diapers...that deserves its very own musing in some future post at some future time when I can actually wrap my brain around all it means to be done with that chapter of our life.

Happy Wednesday!

Just about for the Last Time...

We sent John away again this morning, after a lovely long weekend filled with too much play and not quite enough work to keep us on track for the big move. We dutifully said goodbye. We are used to this routine.

For the past 9 months or so we've had that "he leaves on Monday and comes home on Friday" kind of life. A long lay-over means an impromptu trip to the airport, so kids and wife can hang out with travel weary dad for an hour in the short term parking lot-playing tag on the cross walk and generally hanging on this man we all love so much. Children, during those hour long snippets with a father they adore, interrupt their parents who, having longed to view one another's faces and hold one another's hands, instead find themselves trying to whisper sweet nothings and also discuss important logistics of family living (how the budget is going, or what upcoming engagements must dad remember and cheer lead or even weightier matters like do we buy before we sell and how do we feel about one Utah suburb over another...). It is a busy kind of life. Even an exhausting one. But in large measure this was the life we chose when we chose to move back to Texas. And the more recent months of this have been due to the lack of a sold piece of property; we'd gladly have joined John in Utah before now had our home become the home of someone new.

Last night as John was dancing with me in the kitchen I told him, like I do on every night before he leaves, that I wish he didn't have to go. And he bent down and whispered in my ear that it would only be a few more nights, and that then this would be behind us.

"you made it Katie. We are finished. You did it and now it is over."

And my tears surprised me completely. The emotional outpouring was nothing shy of utter relief and the realization that this particular little trial; the one where John is away most of the hours of our life, is very nearly past. New trials await, and many many uncertainties. But what a relief to know that the airport parking lot will no longer be our spontaneous rendezvous, and that face to face conversation will soon be more frequent between us.

I know John will travel quite often in our new life ahead. And that he will be called away not only in his professional service, but in the religious service that is much easier for me to sacrifice him to-but for now in my mind I am clinging to the truth that this life with more nights of him in some other bed than ours is coming ever closer to an end.

matured...or at least more mature than before

I spent an hour this morning in Brynley's classroom with other parents. We came to preview the "maturation movie" the kids would be shown (boys in one room, girls in another) this week. I knew this movie was on the docket, so Sunday night Bryn and I had a sleepover in my room and I told her all about the wonders of widening hips and monthly cycles. I wanted more than anything in the world to convey that although all this "now you need to shower every day and yes you do have to at some point have to learn to ride the crimson wave" is very uncomfortable to hear (she teared up more than once) that God made a masterpiece when He made us. And the things He made our bodies to be able to do, like carry and nurture life, in the long run is worth the monthly monster that comes with Maturation.

I think my cheeks are still a little pink from the conversation, but it went lots better than it did when John and I sat Mason down a few years ago and spewed our wisdom on the same topic. That one didn't stick at all. Just a few months ago Mason was asked if his parents had told him about the birds and the bees and he said "no". And I was there when the question was asked, and my jaw dropped to the floor; because I distinctly remember being voice while John sat silently but supportively. We were driving down the freeway, just the 3 of us, on our way to get shots so we could bring Lucy home from Vietnam. Mason was in the back. I kept looking at John as we sat in front, waiting for him to intercede or interject as I just threw up all the vocabulary of maturing bodies and procreating. Mason sat, eyes as big as baseballs, with his mouth a little open. It was awkward. But we did it. A day I will absolutely never ever forget, and the child who needed to remember it couldn't recall it years later. Go figure....

so around here we are maturing-two kids now to have heard about their physical beginnings and how to prevent themselves from beginning any children of their own before that special forever spouse is glued and sealed to their side.

At the end of the movie preview one of the parents asked if the teachers had another video that taught less of the biology and more of the mechanics. "We won't be talking about that stuff at all. They get that movie in around the 8th grade." The mother who questioned sighed in relief. Thank goodness she would be able to rely on the school system to educate her child on procreation and how it works.

As awkward as it was, and as embarrassed as I might have felt, I'm awfully glad that I learned about life-making from my own dear mother when I was Brynley's age. And as difficult as it is for me to deliver the messages today, I'm glad it is me my kids are hearing from when it comes to this sensitive topic.

Talk to your kids, when the time is right (and NEWSFLASH; the time is right in about 6th grade) about sex and what that means. Don't leave it up to prime time TV or friends at school or the video in 8th grade. Make this topic one you keep open about at home, trust me on this one. You'll be glad -red cheeks and all-that you did.

On cloud 9!

This darling brother in law is floating on cloud nine these days, and we are floating right along with him. Remember Brynley? not the one who is my daughter, the other awesome one full of talent and spirit and smile? Well, darling brother in law asked awesome (and darling) Brynley to marry him, and SHE SAID YES!!! Wedding bells are ringing folks, and it couldn't happen for a nicer guy.

Change it for a smile?

Last night was a nightmare. Mason has made the school soccer team. Yippee. This means that for the next few weeks he goes to school at 7 and stays late on Tuesdays for games. No big deal, right?

Last night it was a big deal. Mason left home at 6:45 a.m.; he returned at 8:30 p.m.and we were the ones who brought him home. After watching his game. Which started at 7, not 5:30 like the schedule I had read told me. And to top it all off, Mason had not played well, and wanted to pout about that. Which I felt was entirely unacceptable since we'd sacrificed our evening to support the kid. His self pity rubbed off on me, and smiles turned into frowns.

dinner was served at 8:30. Mason's homework (mountainous due to two missed days of school when they decided the flu wasn't coming to get us, but we had decided to get outta dodge...) began shortly thereafter. Children who needed baths did not get them. No one got a bed time story and I felt very grumpy.

Brynley called me on my poor behavior. Hypocrite she called me. How dare I tell them to keep their chin up and hang in there if I walk around in a huff all the time? "I don't like it when you get this way mom" she said, pointing her finger right at me. Tears welled up in her eyes, she turned and jumped onto her bed.

And she was right. Hypocrite. Because; see that post down there? The one I just wrote YESTERDAY? the bottom paragraph is all about having a happy house. Only I made our house unhappy. Me. Not Mason-Mason made himself unhappy. But I let it take me too, and in doing it brought tears to my daughter.

sigh. I'm not enduring this trial very well. I know we are blessed and watched over. And yet I pout and stew over unsold properties and poor housing options in our new state. What do I do my friends? How do I get the happy back, even when things around here are not so happy go lucky?

suggestions would be welcome. Happy Wednesday; and I mean HAPPY!

The wisdom of my better half

We had a family council yesterday, about our family budget. It was much needed. We have a long way to go between distinguishing needs from wants in everything from our housing to our retirement plans. I truly appreciated John's wisdom and the perspective he held concerning the matter. While I do not believe I am the soul culprit in our declining family budget keeping, I do believe I hold the more lax view on the matter of money. Here are some high lights which I think are worth sharing...

1. John took our basic needs from this article, and I appreciated the way he helped us see the differences between what we really must have to live life, what we need to make our life "nice", and what we want. I appreciated the way our children seemed to hold their attention fixed on these concepts, and to offer suggestions as to how we can increase our frugality and still "enjoy life".

2. John, in pondering on this subject, observed that because we spend a lot of money on activities which take us away from our home and from each other, we often don't enjoy those things which cost nothing (or little to nothing) which we really enjoy doing and which we do, for the most part, together. Playing catch, going on family bike rides, playing tag or hide and go seek (one of our FAVORITES!) can't be done when we are off to gymnastics or guitar lessons.

3. We as parents can do more to provide a safe and happy home for our kids. This has nothing to do with providing an expensive home-nor anything to do with filling that home with electronics and other distractions when we already have the supplies and the inclination to enjoy the many blessings we have already been given. It has to do with our attitude toward our children, and the general spirit that is within the walls we dwell in. I've spent so much time "creating" the message of family identity; on our walls, in my "G" collection, in our yearly themes and family traditions. But I have not, really I've not, fostered an attitude of happiness here. Who cares if they know they are Grahams so long as Grahams are grumpy instead of happy? Happy Grahams with no family propaganda are better than cynical Grahams with identity.

I really appreciated what I read here, in the post edit; make a home that is happy. That has so much more to do with how I behave, and not what we have.

Oh, Behave!

A tender Thank You

Dear Sisters (and I don't use that term loosely),

I want to thank you for the deeply meaningful gift given me yesterday by Tamara Applegate. I don't have words that can come without tears, so I'll write my appreciation instead of speak it.

Thank you. For your kindness. For the love you've showered upon me. For the love you've devoted to our family-and particularly to my children. Thank you for including me, for accepting me and for inviting me in so quickly. We've lived here such a short while and yet I feel I'm leaving old friends.

The apron so cleverly crafted will be a treasure to me always. The absolute genius in giving the gift-one so well thought out-is such a testament to the very true way you love others. It is literally the perfect sentiment. For aprons are worn when serving, and you have worn yourselves out serving me. And, when I've been very lucky, we've worn ourselves out together serving others.

And that is why we are sisters to the end and beyond. I will miss you, I will miss this place which has been an experience like none I'd anticipated, and I will take you with me and become more than I was before because of you. And perhaps, when you put on your aprons, you can remember me too. And even imagine that in my corner of the world I'm trying to be like you-apron on-wearing myself out in serving.

Thank you with all the tenderness of my heart,
Katie

Travel Insanity for John and Happy Mother's Day!

This guy flew cross country this week, beginning in Las Vegas and making stops in Philly, Millwaulke, Chicago and somewhere in Pennsylvania (I think). He flies home this morning, and then drives himself to work for the day. When that day is over he'll drive to my sister's house, where we will be waiting for him to help us drive back home to Texas.

Insanity for John. A week full of travel. Thank goodness he likes us enough to be willing to chauffer us home so the kids can be back at school Monday...and so I can have his company for the first time this whole week.

Still trying to find the right spot for our crew to call home. No one, not one soul came into our house in Texas while we were away. Despite lowering the price, it still sits unpurchased, a stoic reminder that our dealings in the great state of Texas do not yet have resolution.

Happy Mother's day this weekend! Mine will be spent churching and unpacking the car from the long road trip home. And I'll be present when our son, big teenager Mason, receives the office of teacher in the aaronic priesthood.

That gift to Mason is the greatest mother's day gift I could ask for. A greater gift than most any of you could ever understand at this point in my mothering life.

Like it?

Me too. Too bad it's not for sale. We've been driving and driving the same neighborhoods for 3 days (I know the area better now than I did when I used to live in it ;) to find the perfect spot to "rest" our family, but so far no go. There is a wonderful -TINY-home tucked away in a heavenly setting that we will bring a contractor into tonight to see if we could retrofit it for our big crew. And we have found a couple of plots of land, so we might embark on the ultimate test of marriage; building a home...we'll see. We still haven't scoured all our other options, like lovely areas in Draper or Sandy, but it looks as though we might be laying a literal foundation for our family's permanent dwelling!

In other news, our school district decided that the swine flu wasn't so much a threat, so while we drive houses the kid's classmates are learning from their teachers in their classrooms. I just didn't have it in me to load the car up two days after we had loaded it down to come here, so kids are missing a couple of days of school-oh boy!

One Brynley meets another

John's brother, Dean, has been hanging around regularly and attentively with a pretty awesome person. She has a masters degree and spends her career organizing youth sports activities like soccer leagues and baseball teams for underpriveladged youth. She can rock climb and marathon, and she makes Dea-who has always been a fun fun guy-even more fun to be around.

And Dean's friend has an awesome name; Brynley.

That's right. The same name as our Brynley, spelled the same way...and she is the first Brynley we have ever met. Once we knew a Brin, but never before a Brynley. Fun eh?

The kids met Brynley-the one who hangs out consistantly and enjoyabley with Dean- for the first time Sunday night. On Monday this great girl came with us to Grandma Graham's house, where we enjoyed a Graham family home evening topped off with ice cream from ICEBERG. Brynley and Brynley hit it off, and I couldn't be more thrilled that my young daughter has such a fine, quality individual to look to and look up to. I mean, besides the really great name.

He's 14 and we are in Utah!

They closed school on Friday afternoon due to the scare of flu pandemic. One week off, without penalty of making it up when school should be getting out for summer (yippee!) I called John (who was in Utah) and told him we were coming. He flew home (as he does every Friday, mostly) and I packed the car. Next morning we OPENED PRESENTS for Mason's 14th birthday (his best gift? NO SCHOOL for a week, and lots of sour candy for him to eat while he sat in the car!), and then we all crammed in our car. John drove

and drove
and drove

and I drove some too, until we couldn't drive any more. We slept in a church parking lot for 2 or 3 hours and then we drove a little more
and then we arrived. Te be here instead of Texas, and to try and find a house where we can LIVE and be happy.

And this morning John had to do the work he does, so he got on a plane and left, for the rest of the week. And we are here, the kids and I, to explore a town we used to know and hug our family and friends and feel our way around this valley until we find a place in it that feels like home.

A memory kind of re-lived.

Once, when I was young, my mom left me or my older brother in charge of my little sister and brother. Our baby at that time was Tyler, who had to have been between 2 and 3 years old because he was walking but still in diapers. Mom went churching. It was night time, I'm sure on a school night. We all set about doing our own things, which pretty much meant fighting over which TV shows to watch. At some point we must have called a truce, or a good show came on we all wanted to see, because we sat mesmerized in front of that blasted screen. In my mind's eye I remember my mom coming into the house, and screaming at the top of her lungs "NO! What have you done??!!!" Which was the signal to come out of the TV room and find OUT what we had done, or NOT done while she was away (we weren't incredibly obedient or helpful children, I'm so sorry mom!). We sprinted the 3 yards from the TV room to the kitchen where we saw the source of her scream. Toddler Tyler had found the very large bucket of all purpose bleached flour and had gone to work covering the kitchen floor and cupboards as well as himself with the fine white powder. My mom stood in the doorway, Tyler stood in the flour, and we stood in the entry of both her bedroom and the TV room. She glared. We feared. She stood and stood for what seemed like forever. I knew we were gonna get it.

Mom came toward us, but walked past, into her bedroom. Though my brain began to scream for me to start cleaning up the mess before she came out of her room I was frozen with fear-and with the clear understanding that I had no idea how to clean up the mess without creating more mess (move the baby to the bathroom? no, then the flour is trailed into the bathroom. Sweep up the flour? No, then you just send it flying into the air, leaving flour dust throughout the house...)

Mom came out of her room
Holding her camera
And she took a picture of the mess
and of her baby boy who made it
and then of her older children, who still stood paralyzed by guilt and fear.
then my mom giggled. And sent us to bed.

and I have remembered that moment my entire life since.

and last night when my children ran out in their pajamas and "swam" in the massive mud puddle out back and covered themselves in grass clippings and muddy water (and duck poop-since the ducks had literally been swimming in our puddle all day long) I thought I'd follow her lead.

I sat them all outside
they were frozen with fear
I went in and got the camera
and took this picture.

But the giggle didn't come. In my moment of possible mommy-greatness I just didn't have the laugh-and its haunting me this morning.

But I didn't have a yell for them either. I sent them to the hose to spray each other down, and then to their bathtubs so they could be clean and not just wet. And that was the end of the moment. And I thought the downfall of the memory I could have made for my children to have and to keep about the time when mom saw humor instead of aggravation.

But before they slept, they mentioned how fun it was to play in the puddle. And Brynley even said "thank you" (I'm sure for my not getting mad!).
So maybe that I kept the scream in even though I couldn't let a laugh out was enough to be a memory for them.

Have a happy and healthy weekend. Spiritual enlightenment here.

biting my tongue...

because today I've had it about up to my eyeballs in community angst.

over swine flu.

Now, lots of you who read this blog do not live in the great state of TEXAS. Perhaps you've heard the joke that Texas is so big, and so "different", that it could and should be considered its own country. And actually I'd agree with you. We have special and different educational tests for our children. We tie the value of our homes to the quality of our schools. We don't pay state income tax but instead pay ginormous property tax. We are different here.

And we border with the country which has had death due to flu. And many of our citizens have contracted this flu. And so there is angst.

And I live with a lot of angst on a lot of other levels in my life (like; how are we ever going to unload our house? and Where are we going to stinking LIVE when we leave said house? and How am I going to finish bed time tonight without losing my smaller than average mind?) so I am familiar with the sensation.

Lucy was sent home today because "she had a fever". Now, please make no mistake. I would much prefer SAFE over SORRY. Last February, when our kids were exposed to Whooping cough, I kept them home from school even though the test was negative, they put them on antibiotics "just in case" and there were no symptoms. I don't want my child to suffer, and I don't want another child to suffer because my child was ill and in their presence.

But Lucy didn't have a fever. I took her temperature with a brand new thermometer. I took the temperature repeatedly over a sustained length of time. No fever. No runny nose. No dirt under her fingernails and no recent trips to Mexico.

just angst.

And it must have rubbed off. Because upon gathering the girls early from preschool, Lucy and Molly both by my side ("better keep Molly, just in case...") we went to Target to buy the new thermometer. And we bought them out of ibuprofen and Tylenol. And we bought Gatorade and clear liquids. And then i went and fueled my car. And while at the gas station I purchased a box of gallon containers of water. And I'm ordering a generator today after I gather my kids from school. And somehow picking up firewood for our outdoor cooking pit "just in case we want to make s'mores" (or if the gas company has so many freaked out or ill employees that they decide not to provide service before this scare subsides)

So I must have angst too.

How are you fairing the unknown ill of the swine flu? Have you stepped up your hand washing, your pork inspecting? Have you opted out of public gatherings? Is your school still open?

perhaps you, after reading of my over reaction to non-fevered preschool expulsion, are biting your tongue now too.

or maybe, instead, I've caused you angst.

The collection is growing

First, could one of you please send me a tutorial on how to put many many pictures up on one blog post? Jessa, you did an amazing photo essay on Sea world, HOW DID YOU DO THAT? I have many more photos to my collection to share, but don't know how to share them...

o.k., now that I've cried for help, here goes.

When we were waiting for Lucy to come, and as we nurtured Molly in our home, it occurred to me that the make-up of our family would not look like most other families. We would have children who do not fit the biological mold of their parents-some would look like us, and some would not. This didn't bother me a lick, but I did desire some way to instill in us a family identity-something that made us unmistakeably belong to each other.

That something was a covenant, performed in a sacred temple, which binds our children -adopted or otherwise- to us for the rest of this life and into forever. That is the binding strength and power of special promises made in temples that now dot the earth. The power for these promises to have effect is centered in the atonement of Jesus Christ.

He makes this forever minded covenant possible. And I am humbly thankful to have a glimpse of understanding into that truth.

While this is the power of the covenant, and the center of what makes us a family, I-in my propaganda promoting motherhood-sought some way to emphasize and remind our family that we are all in this together. My choice was to collect the initial of our last name "G" and place the letter G in many forms around our home. It began with a painting I made, with the help of my gifted mom-in-law, for John at Christmas in 2006.

Since then, my collection has grown.

I wear a silver stamped "G" on a chain around my neck. there are G's dotting the landscape of our home in most every room. And what has made the collecting more fun has been the support and encouragement of friends as I"ve shared my interest in collecting and propagating our family initial.

In the pictures you see here please note the darling crochet coasters, given to me by a dear friend, Jill, and the very stylish way she finished said gifts with G's in different fonts. A friend from Africa sent a stitched G to me last winter, and it adorns our picture wall where I see it most every day. I woman who I've come to know stopped at my door when only an acquaintance, and handed me two darling "G's" that she had seen when on a trip. she had heard about my purpose in collecting and wanted to support it. Another friend brought magnets for the fridge, and Erin brought the fab green and yellow G that stands centinal in the guest room. The list of gifted G's goes on and on...

-again I insert my need to know how to post more than a few pictures at a time-

I love these special gifts. Not only because they add fuel to my family identity fire, but also because they have come from supportive friends, who in their small gestures of kindness have encouraged me in my efforts to keep my family solidly surrounded by the reminder that we belong to one another. Bound by power forever, and linked by love day to day. And hopefully reminded, through my fun and enjoyable collecting, that it is great to be a forever Graham.

Trying Gratitude...

Dear John,

We missed you lots last night. Family night, though short, was sweet. We listened to a piece of this and focused our thoughts and remarks on how we can be more grateful in our prayers. I wanted the children to understand something that came over me like the soft rain that fell this morning as you left us. Just like Elder Bednar explains in his discourse, the Lord can often give us insight and revelation when we focus our prayers on that which we feel grateful for. The understanding that He already knows what we need before we ask, and that sometimes when we don't ask but instead praise and thank, He is prompted to give us that which we would have asked Him for.

And maybe when our thoughts and words and prayers are filled with what we've been blessed with, we can better recognize that really He is giving us that which matters most.

So, we've begun an experiment, and we want to have you join us. For the next 5 days we are going to pray in gratitude, and ask the Lord for nothing. As much as we feel we need Him to help, we are going to set that aside, and try to just say thank you.

The kids were receptive and open to the idea. As I heard their prayers this evening these are some of the things they said:

"I'm thankful I can be smart" (Madi)
"I'm thankful that you made electricity, so I can play the wii and charge the DS" (Porter, he seriously said that).
"I'm thankful for my healthy body" (Brynley)
"I'm thankful none of us were sick today" (Mason, of course)
"I'm thankful for mom, and dad, and Bryn, and Mason, and Madi and Lucy and Porter" (Molly)
"Thank thee for daddy" (Lucy)

And I'm thankful for covenants that bind us together across miles and states and endless days apart. And for health and daily strength. And that the kids are all asleep before 10 p.m. tonight. That they all have the right number of fingers and toes. And that today Molly said with a giant smile "I have TWO moms who love me, right?!!". And when I told her right she hugged me and happily said "I"m glad you're my mom, mom".

And for the note you sent me in response to my written sobs. I love you for loving me.

And I'm so thankful for you. With a depth of gratitude that only the Lord himself can comprehend.

join us. Be thankful in all your prayers this week. I look forward to the experiment, and I pray in gratitude for all we may learn.
love,
Katie

When its Adios to Texas, its Adios to Cable

For the last 5 years or so our family has had access to cable or satellite television. These have been the basic channels mind you; like CNN and Disney and NOT HBO or MTV. But its been a lot of stations to flip and stuff to watch for a long long time around here.

We are through paying for our television programming with the leaving of this house. Back to being content with PBS and network news.

It isn't a hard choice for me. Not only do we now have access to our favorite shows via the Internet, but we've come to realize that our big kids get to do the channel flipping and our little kids get to watch Hannah Montana instead of Sesame Street.

no more I say, no more...

Its time for me to let my little ones be little ones again. And to find other entertainment avenues for my big ones besides commercial riddled - Disney propaganda promoting - sitcoms where boys act stupid around girls and girls act stupid for boys. We can be more selective, more careful, and more fun too. With our saved cable budget I'll purchase Apple TV and all our DVD's (and hopefully someday VHS's) will go onto itunes and be played, scratch free, on any tv in the house. I'd even be up for more Wii and Rockband and fewer commercials or made for tv movies where girls hike up their shorts and boys comb down their hair.

a couple of weeks ago I cam across a DVD collection of Sesame Streets that were made when I was 5 years old. Hours and hours of the Count and Cookie Monster. Songs from folk singers about fishing and the forest. The girls are glued whenever they get "screen time" to watch it. The simple shows that kept me so visually content as a child have still got the good stuff. Safe television, educational for them. A chance for me to remember that a child's media experience does not have to include Spongebob in order for that child to be to be completely content.

I know our big ones will pitch a gnarly fit at the next address when they don't have Zach and Cody to hang out with on Friday night. But I hope after a few weeks of Wii fit and old episodes of ICarly off of the net they'll see that, in the end, no Disney is good Disney.

Porter and my Parenting

We enjoyed Porter's 1st grade music program last night. All the kids and me. We caught a snip of video for dad to view and for all of Porter's posterity.

He was darling

and he wouldn't like me using the adjective darling to describe him. He would want me to say that He was awesome. Or that "he rocked!"

which he did

The kids were awesome too. No screaming, no fighting for the camera, no complaints about supporting their brother. They did great. I felt like a decent enough parent, seeing my kids behave and perform in an "above average" kind of way.

After the program we chatted with friends and teachers and helped put chairs away. In usual Graham fashion we were some of the last to leave. But not the very last, there were a few families left.

"what were you thinking putting a banana in your locker Porter?" was the question posed by another lingering parent.

"it wasn't a banana, it was crackers, with peanut butter in them, I swear" replied my darling son.

"was it a banana the janitor had to clean up today?" I asked, the story Porter spewed after school was now becoming more clear.

Porter had reported that his class would no longer be aloud to have "snack" because there were bugs in the lockers due to kids leaving their half eaten snacks inside them.

-I am going to interject here that this is the first and only school we've attended where kids have to pack a snack in addition to their regular lunches. Odd to me from the start but even more odd are the reports from my kids that the common snacks to bring are cheetohs and little debbie snack cakes-my kids can take pretzels, fruit, and crackers with peanut butter. If they are REALLY lucky, they can pack whole grain goldfish or low fat triscuits-

"yep, Mr. Jim had to fumigate the lockers and wipe them all down." said the jovial parent.
"now none of the kids can have snack. Silly Porter" she says with a wink.

"oh, I had no idea it was a banana..." said me.

"well, how could you possibly be expected to keep track of things like that. I mean, you have (she counts heads with her finger) 6 KIDS!"

in other words: "you are a mother to so many, we can't expect you to actually MOTHER".

Remarks like this have been a part of my daily life since I had my 4th child. Somehow, upon reaching that number of offspring, I have somehow been exempted from actually having to rear them into productive members of society who have manners, and who are responsible for themselves and their actions and who know things like how to prevent lockers from becoming infested with ants by throwing away old fruit. Or eating it when its snack time.

This line of reasoning, while now a common occurrence in my life, is baffling to me. I chose to have ALL of the children I am rearing. I should be looked upon as one who felt she was capable of molding them into functioning and contributing members of society, right?

Apparently, my lack of ability to rear the children became evident the moment I decided to have so many of them.

And maybe they are right, but I don't think they are. I mean, the day Porter told me he was going to take a banana for snack, here is what I told him;

"good food choice buddy. Better than crackers or pretzels!"

Here is what I did not tell him;

"better be sure not to leave it in your locker, because with a little time that banana will attract bugs, and the janitor will have to come and clean out your locker and tell the kids you can't have snack any more. O.k. Porter? ya got that? Bananas will go rotten if they stay in your locker..."

I forgot to mention that detail. Silly me. How could I possibly be expected to remember important parental advice like that when I Have

One: who takes out the garbage on his own and gets almost straight A's without my having to babysit him

Two: who hasn't had a late homework paper but once or twice in her life, and who often rises on her own in the morning at 6 a.m. to complete her morning chores

Three: who can cheerfully capture her younger siblings in the very palm of her hand with the phrase "lets play school!" and a wave of her hand to the white board

Four: who at 6 years old frequently remembers to read his scriptures before he goes to sleep

Five: who at the age of 4 can now make her own bed, her own sandwich and put on her own clothes, not to mention sorting the laundry by color if I let her

Six: who is still pretty young, but who loves to be held and hugged by her siblings and who knows how to pray on her own

kids. How could I possibly be expected to actually parent them? Only heaven knows how, so I try to consult with heaven ALOT on the matter.

Have a great weekend!

Lessons in Life Lessons (its a long one folks!)

Bryn is a gifted individual. Academically, socially, physically, the girl can do pretty much anything. She's helpful too, and funny. And she can read recipes and follow them.

Pretty amazing indeed.

Bryn decided upon our move to Texas that she wanted to become a gymnast. We signed up for classes and, no surprise to me at all, she was soon invited to try out for the team. She was -again no surprise to me-invited to join the team. She did. Mission accomplished, right?

Bryn began to work out often, and to apply her many physical gifts to her new found sport. She wisely chose to compete with the lower vs. the higher level, because she knew she could execute the lower level skills to perfection where as the higher level skills wouldn't be perfectly polished. And by chosing to compete at this level she has won meet after meet.

There is one thing to insert right here. Most of her meets were on Sunday. At least they were scheduled for then. With a brief explanation that we believe in the 10 commandments (one of which states that the SABBATH DAY is holy ie. not a day for leotards and scorecards at the gym...) most of the meet organizers allowed Bryn to compete on Saturday instead. This meant she went to the meets with the girls in the higher level, and she performed her routines and was judged for them based on her performance. What a blessing we felt, that she could learn that when she stood up for her beliefs (no sports on Sunday) a way would be made for things to turn out o.k.

Bryn has medals and ribbons dangling from her gym bag which testify of her superior skills. She was, of course, looking forward to the final competition of the year. The State championship meet.

It is this Sunday.

And no amount of begging or asking has persuaded the powers that be to allow our girl to strut her stuff on the day that was made for sport (namely; Saturday).

I broke the news to Bryn right after she came home from school. She sat on the bench in the garage and stared out into the sky as I explained our family's position on the matter.

-now I am going to interject something here-and I hope you'll forgive that I break up the story to record the thought process that took place within me...for I learned some lessons about teaching life lessons and I want Bryn to have my words when she is the mother some day, so here goes.

As a parent who loves her child, I have tried to teach correct principals to her. I've tried to point out the blessings that come when those certain principals are lived. I've tried to show compassion when those principals seem to be in conflict with the teachings or common practices of the world, but I've never felt inclined to apologize for those principals, because I know they are true.

But that doesn't make them easy to honor when the hard day comes to live them without reward.

The living of those principals is hard sometimes. And when those hard times come, I wonder to myself; is she doing what's right because I tell her and she is obedient? Or is she doing what's right because she knows for herself that its right? Has the principal become part of who she is? Or is she living it because she has to, just to get along with me?

And how do I give her whatever she needs to WANT to make the principal a part of her very self?

So now I'll return to the story...I left off with Bryn staring out into the sky as I tell her that visions of medals and ribbons have been dashed over Sunday competition schedules.

And Brynley, after curling up on the bench for just a minute or two says to me

"I want to go do my homework now".
And I fear.
Because here is the moment when I wanted her to say "I know its the right thing to do, even though it stinks". But that is not what I just heard. And I, being insecure in my life lesson teaching skills, prod a little further....

"could we talk about this a little more sweetheart? I'm sure you must feel dissapointed."

and really, she doesn't want to talk about it. She humors me, she sits back down, and eventually she politely opens up just enough to let me know she's not mad at me for laying down a standard she doesn't believe in. And I try to emotionally let her know that my heart goes out to her and I'm sure it seems unfair. And I try to uncover my fears to her, and I say something kind of like this;
"do you feel you've come to understand why we've chosen not to play sports on Sunday? 'Cause I know this would be so much harder for you if you felt we were taking something away from you that you would do if you could........."
and then she says these words;
"I know its right for me not to compete. I know for myself that its right.I want to go do my homework, k. mom?"
"sure honey, thanks for talking. Love you" I say

and my heart is a little relieved.

and I hope what she's revealed is the truth. And not just the smart and savvy in her saying just what her mom wants to hear...

but instead the warm assurance that the loss of the competition is not greater than the loss of a standard kept. A chance to stand up for what's right, even when that means standing alone, and standing in a place that won't bring her medals or ribbons or cheers from the crowd.

only a cheer from her mom. And from concourses of angels above, happy she's chosen right whether out of personal conviction or simple obedience.

Oh that she could hear them cheering.
Maybe that's why she stared at the sky...