The Wonder of it All

The brilliant leaves were here so fleetingly, and I wanted to enjoy them more.  I wanted to take my family on leaf hunts and pumpkin picking excursions to fully breathe in the essence of Falltime, but Fall has already exhaled.  The leaves are all gone and tomorrow is Halloween (which somehow always seems like the climax of Fall.)  Next year will have to do.

The other day, I sent my two boys off to school and work and when I opened the shades to wave goodbye to the bus, I was struck.  I have rarely seen so radiant a sunrise--it looks as if it were a sunset.

Watching a sunrise is one of the most splendid ways to start a day.  And this life of mine has been one gigantic sunrise as of late--a rising of new ideas and traditions and perspectives.  It's as if I've been living my life all blurry and I finally found the focus ring on the camera.  Everything in my life has come into crystal clear focus.

Yesterday it snowed and stuck for a few hours.  Tate had been doing a puzzle upstairs and hadn't seen the snow yet.  When he started walking down the stairs, he looked over the railing and exclaimed rather emphatically, "Look Mommy!  The snow covered the whole town with SNOW!!!"

And when I went to get Maylie from her crib, I opened her shade as I always do and walked over to her crib to pick her up.  For a second I was a little confused because instead of smiling and running to me, she just stood there, rooted in place.  Then she stretched out her little arm, pointing outside, and breathed a reverent, "Wooww."  It was her first sight of snow because last year she was too little to remember.

I of course had to call my mom and relate the incidences and we spoke about childhood wonder and why we are supposed to become as a little child.  Instead of complaining about the cold and the snow, we should be struck with awe at the beauty of it all.

Even Easton came home all excited that it had snowed all over his school and playground.  I told him it snowed all over here too.  Then he said, "But it snowed even more than that at my school!  The snow went up to here!" (pointing at his shin).

The Lord created each season for a very special reason and I have learned that the best way to live a life of contentment is to follow the natural rhythm of the seasons.  There is a season for doing and becoming, and then there is a season of stillness.  That season is winter.  It's a time to reflect and ponder and gather your family close around you.  It's a time for music and stories and the warmth of fuzzy blankets and hot cocoa.  It's a time to rejuvenate all of one's empty reserves.  It's a season to step back, sit down, and just. be. still.

Last year Winter was loved for the first time.  And this year, she will be loved even more.

Autumn Highlights

Our autumn has been full and inspiring.  Not too many pictures have been snapped, so a little list of highlights is in order:

• Our temple, the Brigham City temple was dedicated and we were able to attend a session just last week.  Sitting in that gorgeous edifice, the first thing I felt was that I was finally home.  And while all temples feel like home, this one feels like our home, our very own special, sacred temple.
• I was able to ride down with my stake to the Relief Society meeting and go with my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law.  And the whole day was a much-needed break for me.  Patrick insisted I leave early and do some shopping in Brigham City and some pondering on the temple grounds.
• Our house is coming along nicely.  Almost completely sided, it's being mudded and taped at this stage in the game.  Our builder keeps promising Thanksgiving, but I'm expecting December...{I've never been one to get my hopes up too much.  It allows me to not be too disappointed or pleasantly surprised}.
• I've been busy with lots of photo shoots...this warm Autumn is lending itself well to photographs.
• We've been busy with your tradition of a yearly family movie to give to our parents for Christmas.  I'm not sure why I've never uploaded the past year's movies to our blog...I'll have to put that on the to-do list.
• Last Friday and Saturday I attended a Time-Out for Women event with my sister Natalie and my mom.  It was literally amazing and I loved the time spent with two of my very best friends.

And then there was Monday....when Easton and Tate disappeared to the outdoors and by the time I got Maylie all bundled up, I found Easton raking leaves and Tate raking dirt (Tate claimed to be getting the garden ready to plant in).  Easton asked me if he could earn a little extra money since this was an extra chore.  I was so happy that he wanted to help that I agreed wholeheartedly. 

And after 45-50 minutes of raking non-stop, Easton was the proud owner of 5 piles of leaves.

But the story doesn't end there.  The sweetest part came later after they came in and were ready for bed.  "Mommy?" He began.  "I want to earn money so I can get you and Daddy something."  I couldn't believe my ears.  Where had he learned this art of generous giving?  I stand continually in awe of the spirits that our Father sends us.  Aren't they a miracle?

I love you Easton.

And Tate.

And Maylie.

And Patrick.

And Autumn with all of it's splendor....

Pumpkin Pie Lessons

Yesterday in preschool we made a pretend pumpkin pie and told a story about "Nephi" (the dog) inviting us all over to his house to have some.  We acted out every detail--from the phone calls to the knocking on the door, to the passing out of the pie.  The object of the lesson was to reinforce the virtue of kindness because the host soon finds that they are one piece short of feeding all of his guests.

I asked the question, "What should Nephi do since there aren't enough pieces for everyone?  Mommy didn't get a piece of pie."

The answer, I thought, would be for Nephi to give up his piece of pie or share his with Mommy.  But Easton had a higher way...

"I know," he responded.  "I'll share my piece of pie with Nephi so he can give his piece to Mommy."

Is it any wonder we are to become as a little child? 

I look on and praise him for his kindness and then turn inward, realizing I need another review of Mosiah 3:19 and 3 Nephi 11:37-38 later this evening.  And perhaps on a daily basis.

"Children Say the Splendidest Things" -Episode 3

If I don't write these down, they slip my memory like dew on summer grass.  I've already forgotten so many things, but here are a few I managed to jot down before time played it's unfortunate role on my memory.

While driving home from a long road trip to visit family, I noticed my feet and ankles starting to swell a bit in the heat.  I propped them up on the dashboard and tried to get comfortable.  Soon we heard Easton's little voice from the backseat, "Why is Mommy putting her feet up there?"  Patrick replied, "Because Mommy's hot."  Easton apparently didn't hear because he asked what about four times.  Each time Patrick would patiently repeat.  Finally, his little face scrunched up in confusion and he questioned what he thought he had heard:  "Mommy's a nut??!!"  Hysteria from myself and Patrick subsequently followed of course.

A few weeks ago Easton walked up to me out of the blue and said something along these lines:  "Mommy, when Maylie comes, you just need to rest.  I will do everything for you.  I will take care of Maylie and feed her a bottle and change her diaper and play with her and make dinner and lunch and breakfast and carry Tate.   I will do everything so you can just rest and take a nap."  Yes, I love you super-boy Easton.

One afternoon after I had put the boys to bed about 4 times (what with all of the bathroom trips and lights turning on and getting out of bed to ask a thousand questions.)  I had just seated myself at the computer when I hear a "Mommy?" from Tate.  I replied with "What?" and he informed me that he needed his blanket on (for the fourth time).  I said, "No, Tate.  This time you need to put your blanket on yourself.  Good night."  Then I hear a little voice--almost a whisper--from his older brother.  "Tate, say, "Sugar Pie?  Will you please put my blanket on for me?"  I couldn't believe my ears.  His little nickname for me is spreading into a sweet glaze that gets him anything he wants.  Of course when Tate asked me using Sugar Pie this time I couldn't resist and I went back in and put his blanket on.  As I was about to close the door, Easton commented quietly, almost to himself, "I knew that would work!"

Along the same lines, one morning Easton asked to play Mario Kart.  I typically don't let him until the afternoon when Patrick gets home to play with him, but for some reason I hesitated on this particular morning.  Easton took advantage of the opportunity to ask again, this time with a syrupy "Pretty please" at the end.  I gave in and Easton walked to the family room conqueror, saying to himself, "I said 'Pretty please.' So that works too!"

What ICDI is teaching me.

It started a few months back, Tate's independence and insisting on doing everything himself.

In July we termed the condition ICDI {ick-dye}--the acronym for his declarations, "I can do it!!"

Easton never experienced this phase, and why Tate is so independent while at the very same time being so cuddly and affectionate and attached is beyond me.  Perhaps it's a second child syndrome and maybe it's just his little budding personality.  I love it and don't really like it all at the same time, this bittersweet battle always wondering whether I should step in or let him figure it out.

But yesterday when he worked for 25 minutes at threading his sandal straps, I watched and I pondered and I realized that this is all teaching me so many big lessons in such a little way...

I think I know how Heavenly Father must feel when we exhibit the ICDI attitude.  He must be so pleased when we venture out and grow a new trait or overcome a previously insurmountable obstacle.  And perhaps even more pleased when we encounter a hurdle that we recognize we can clear...with a little instruction and coaching from Him.  We go to Him after working and failing and struggling and ask for His wisdom, His guidance, His help, His tutoring.  And does He not rejoice to teach us and show us how to clear the hurdle?  This is the sweet.

But what of the times when, rather childishly, we insist on doing things all by ourselves, relying on the arm of the flesh for answers, solutions, or ideas, instead of upon Him?  Does He not yearn to cradle us and teach us?  Does His heart not swell with love for us and wish we would run to Him for comfort and direction?  This must be the bitter.  But He is all-wise and though omnipotent, He lets us choose whether or not to accept or even ask for His help.  He knows that in the frustration of ICDI we can learn WCDI {we can do it} as we come to Him for deliverance.

 And thus, I am learning that when Tate steers in this stubborn, non-teachable direction and I want to rush in to his aid, it is far better to let him struggle and work a bit on his own.  Sometimes he figures it out, but more often than not, the frustration brings him to tearfully plead for my help.

And then there are the other times like yesterday's sandal straps when just before he gives up, I go to him and whisper, "Tate, would you like me to help you?"

It sounds all too familiar...an echo of a still, small voice I've heard before in my own heart.

What issues, what hurdles, what obstacles are you facing right now?

Are you facing them all on your own?

Are you seeking aid from the arm of the flesh?

Do you think there is anything too small or too large to take to the Lord?

Listen to your heart.  Listen for the Spirit whispering the beckoning words:

"My daughter, {my son}, would you like me to help you?"

And then find the childlike, teachable courage to say "yes."

Inside of me...

This morning in the warming freshness of summer I sit to wrestle and ponder and feel answers from heaven.  With hands placed on my abdomen (growing now) I wonder and wait for the Spirit to speak.  He does, as is so often the case when I create a space conducive to His whispers.

And I'm taught from on high about how we mothers have the sacred blessing of housing a spirit baby for 9 precious months.  It is painful at times and uncomfortable always, but oh the sweet gift we can discover when the Spirit teaches that within us resides a piece of heaven.

I hear an airplane soar above and I am soaring higher than even this..for I am a breath away from the very heavens.

Oh how the veil can thin, and how clearly we can hear our Father's voice because of the unique connection these little ones provide.

I am taught that if I quiet my mind and open my heart, I can have direct access to heaven's guidance.

It is this which prompts me to linger just a little longer and feel if there is indeed more for me to learn today.  And there is.

I am brought to understand that each child is really given...as a gift to us.  Each one is a precious little care package equipped with everything we need to be blessed and become more godlike.

I think of my children--how their strengths and their talents bless me.  Those things like arms wrapping around me with soft kisses or bear kisses on the cheek, truly sincere "I love you Mommy's", hilarious tidbits of childlike innocence, and sweet expressions of Divine dispositions: "Mommy," (as I'm picking up the blocks) "you need help because you have a baby in your tummy."

Can we ever stop seeing our children as holy breaths of heaven sent to give us grace from Him?

And then there are the rough times, the foibles we see even in our "perfect" children, the constant reminder that we all live in a fallen world.  But these things, like quarrels over toys, disobedience, little white lies, frowns, and meltdowns, do they not teach us how to overcome our own weaknesses...of impatience, anger, control, selfishness, perfectionism?

Everything, everything these spirits come with is Divinely designed to mold us into disciples of Christ.

And this is why they are our own personal care packages from a loving Father above.

Today's last whisper from heaven comes like dew telling me of my own little care pacakges:

"You've been given your Fireball, and your Sweet & Spicy Cuddlebug, now I am sending you your Angel."  

And at that very moment, a little bump rises from the right side of my tummy and meets my stroking fingertips.

~~~~~~~~~~~

And here are recent portraits of our little care packages:

Our exuberant, energetic, loving, leading Fireball

And our syrupy-sweet, mischievously spicy Cuddlebug:

Note to Self:

Please remember the following pictures and the stories they represent:

#1

 I was talking on the phone with my mom when I heard a little voice beside me saying, "Why are these in my drawer?!"  I looked over and beheld Easton donning a sweatshirt as pants.  I realized in an instant that he could not figure out why in the world I would have put some tight pants with a HUGE waist in his clothes drawer.  {I had to explain to my mom what was going on since all she could hear was an outburst of laughter.}

 #2

 This picture doesn't represent one story as much as it does the way of life for my two filhos.  They are best friends in every way, shape, and form.  I love getting more things done as they play with each other--perfectly content.  I love to see them tumble and wrestle together (as shown above).  I love to hear their little footsteps outside my door in the morning coming to find me.  I love to hear Easton mother {or should I say "father"} Tate--telling him what to do and not do.  I love to hear Easton try to teach Tate to say new words {for some reason Tate responds a lot better to Easton's coaching than ours.}  I love to see them give each other hugs and share their gummies and drinks.  And most of all, I love to hear Tate copy EVERY SINGLE THING that Easton does...when he wants to of course...and especially if we've just told Easton to stop an annoying behavior like banging on the table.  Tate wants to be just like Easton and Easton loves the attention.  They are best buds and I hope and pray they will stay forever friends.

 #3

This picture was an accidental, perfect shot.  And I love it so much that I ordered an 8X10 for our wall.

I guess this picture serves as a reminder of simple days with my simple Sony cybershot.  Someday {if I ever save up enough money}  I will have a brand new, beautiful DSLR.  But as this picture shows, even without it, I can still be happy.  I can still take darling photographs...not because of my skills or my camera's talents, but because the subjects I capture are so angelic.

And while someday I will be able to take much better photographs with my fancy schmancy camera, for now the one I have is enough...and the "ones" I have are more than enough.

My Little Sunbeam.

Dear Easton,

Last week you started Sunbeams.  I was a little nervous wondering how you would do with me in there as the chorister.  Let's just say I was pleased and surprised.  You were a gem.  In fact, you even had to give a talk on your very first day.  We practiced all week and you told me you wanted to do it all by yourself.  You didn't even want me to stand by you--instructing me to sit on the bench instead.  However, I finally convinced you to let me stand there and hold the picture.  It was probably good since you needed a few prompters.  You told the story of Peter walking on the water and bore a little testimony at the end just like you did for us in Family Home Evening a few weeks back.  I can't even describe the sweet feeling that filled my heart to hear you--my sweet little boy who is growing up so fast--give your very first talk.

The rest of Primary went smoothly and you absolutely LOVED your class.  When you got home you lined up all of your stuffed animals and taught them a Sunbeam lesson.

But the laugh of the day came when you lugged into the kitchen one of your larger teddy bears and announced loudly, "He needs to go to the bathroom."  When you got back to "your class" all of the other stuffed animals needed to go to.  I almost died laughing.  Being a sunbeam teacher for a year was experience enough to know that the "whole class bathroom trip" is a weekly hallmark of Sunbeams.

I love you Easton.  Thank you for being my little Sunbeam.

Love, Mommy

Magical Memories {Day 11}

Here we are backtracking a little bit.

Monday night we enjoyed my delectable "cake batter" treat that has been a favorite tradition of mine since about 9th grade.

I think it's become a tradition for my little boys as well.  We all had sweet, white batter in the corners of our lips and smiles on our faces.

P.S.  Tonight it was Easton's lesson.  I forgot to help him practice one today so when the lesson was announced, I grabbed the gospel pictures book and turned to the picture of the Savior grasping Peter's arm when Peter started to sink.

I have told Easton this story 2 or 3 times but have not relayed it in the past two weeks at least.  I asked him to share with us this story and miraculously, he recited the story almost word for word how I had told it to him.  Tears stung my eyes.  It was his first real lesson all by himself.

It was a moment I will never forget.

Magical Memories {Day 7}

This is Easton.  The cook/waiter.

Let's see.  He made me nut cookies, ice cream cones, chicken noodle soup, and...garbage. :)  Most of the time I would request something and he would run into his room, "make it," and then run back.  When I had run out of requests, I asked him to make me a surprise.  He brought me garbage and tried to force me to eat it. When I refused, he tried his luck with Patrick.

November Reminiscing

Dear Mie,

I have to write you this letter so you will never ever forget something sweet that happened yesterday.

You were sitting on the couch with your little boys watching a movie.  Easton was so happy.  You looked over and smiled at him and he gave you one of his butter-melting smiles that he's so good at.  And then he did something that nearly made you gasp.

He reached out, took your hand and held it for a moment.  And then ever so gently he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your finger.

You realized at that moment that he is so much more like his daddy than you ever thought.

Because one day...your sweetheart did the exact same thing.

It was 5 years ago on a crisp Autumn day much like yesterday was.  It may have even been November.

You were driving together to somewhere wonderful.  The place you went has long ago slipped your memory.  But what happened on the way turned out to be more important and left an indelible impression on your heart.

The circumstances leading up to the event have been washed out by time.  But sometime during the drive, Patrick reached down and took your hand.  This was not the first time he had held your hand, but something was different.  Because just a short time earlier on a clear October afternoon, you had told each other you loved each other for the first time.

And so holding hands now was more meaningful and special knowing that you wanted to hold hands for the rest of your lives.

And then came the magical moment.

He pulled your hand up to his lips and kissed your finger--ever so lightly and tenderly.

It was the first time he ever kissed you.

You've thought upon this instant many times in the past five years.

And while you've known that it can never be repeated with quite the same effect, you've treasured how lucky you are to have it to remember.

But never did you expect that your sweet son would give to you another magical moment to cherish...and remember...for the rest of your life.

Please don't forget how blessed you are.  And please don't forget to thank Heavenly Father every day for giving you a perfect husband and a precious son.

What I've been doing.

Where to start?  It's been so long.

Summer end is always so busy as we try to savor each and every last minute with our loved ones before they're whisked off to school again.

It's filled with garden tomatoes with salt and fresh corn on the cob.

It's filled with last hurrahs with extended families.

And as if that's not enough, we have to add on to our never-ending list of summer projects, brand new ones for Fall.

And I guess that's why I haven't written for so long.

So to catch up, tonight will be a bit extensive.

As I look back at Labor Day Weekend, which was just a few weeks ago, I'm kind of in awe that to me it was still summer.

 May I just mention that when we pulled up to talk to the camp hosts in Heber Valley Girls Camp (for our Johnson family camp out), Easton immediately rolled down his window and said to the couple, "Hey!  Look at my funny face!"  Then he pulled his mouth into a contorted shape.  He then grabbed his pail and said, "Look at my funny hat!"  You know, I've come to love these times even though Easton usually embarrasses me.  I really can't imagine my life without him in the spotlight, because ever since he has been with us, that is where he has been.  I suppose he always will.

Aren't Grandparents wonderful??

Although, Tate would probably say Kita is in the running too.

Megan, Sadie, and I spent about an hour looking through pictures and laughing as we reminisced.  I love my sister-in-laws!

This was probably the highlight of Easton's day.

Tate's first lawn mowing experience.  He's growing up much too fast.

  

And with the end of Labor Day, summer seemed to fade away.

We've enjoyed some splendid weather, but still I could feel Autumn just over the brink of the horizon.

And with a zest that is completely out of character for me, I bought some little orange pumpkins and began decorating for the ensuing Fall. (Visit this link to see my September interior decorating photos).

(And this link too for the reasons why Fall has been so much better for me this year).

Thoughts of Autumn brought me a thousand and one ideas for new projects and passions that I've been pouring my whole self into...hence, the lack of posting this month. 

(Visit this link for a glimpse of some of the things I've been doing and am planning to do.)

But, even with all of the grand ideas and schemes I still had time to snap a few pictures here and there:

And now Fall is officially here I think.  And surprisingly, I'm welcoming the change with open arms and an open heart.  It's going to be a great Autumn...I can just feel it.