The End of September.

September has been a most lovely month.

I've truly enjoyed getting back into the flow of things with school starting. It's quite different with just Maylie home in the mornings, but we're getting used to it. As bitter as change is, it's also terribly sweet. I love to flow and adapt to the changes and different seasons of my life. I find that with the end of each chapter, another one presents itself--just as sweet, if not sweet than the chapter before.

And I feel just the same as my mother did when we were growing up. When people ask me what stage of my children's lives has been my favorite? My answer is always "the one they're in right now!"

Each day is full of wonder. Each day is full of surprises. And I have thoroughly been enjoying my 2014: My Year of Celebration!!!

This Fall I've been volunteering in Tater's classroom every Thursday morning. My neighbor and I trade off our little ones so we can volunteer in our kindergartner's classes. So I have her little girl and boy on Tuesday mornings and Maylie goes to their house on Thursday. This has been such a joy to be in the classroom again. Not only do I love being my sweet little Tater Tot and see him interact in this brand new environment, but I LOVE just being in the classroom. The second best thing to teaching is getting to volunteer, and in some ways much better. As much as I loved being in charge of a classroom when I was student teaching and writing the lesson plans, I love letting another teacher be in charge so I can spend more time helping the students. Also, I have been noticing the blessings of service in my life. And they are very grand.

This Fall has brought us several lunches and dinners with Daddy at the hospital. Every week or so we meet him at the cafeteria to dine on the most delicious, healthy, inexpensive food I've ever tasted.

Yes, this season has been ever so sweet.

 {The fish are always a highlight of Daddy's work}

{Somewhere I have pictures of me at my Daddy's work when I was about the same age. It's tender for me to see generations repeat themselves.}

 {I froze a whole bushel of fresh Brigham City Peaches!! And we ate almost as many as we received fresh peaches every week}

{These were our very first golden tomatoes!}

 {One day I made Sumo de Pessego (Peach Juice). It tasted just exactly like the Compal Portuguese Peach Nectar I drank nearly every day in Portugal. PS--the recipe is super easy. Put a whole peach (minus the stone) in a blendtec and push the "whole juice" button.}

 {This picture represents a special half hour I enjoyed with my boys. We had a "build-your-own lego car contest" the other day. I am absolutely amazed at the creative geniuses I have as sons! They outdid me for sure without even trying!}

 {This is Tate's class singing a song. His teacher is so sweet and bubbly! She is the perfect fit for my Tater Bug!}

{Every day Maylie and I wait around the corner and down the road for our Tate to come home.}

 {And this little girl models for me}

 {And explores.}

 {I love her so much}

 {Lastly, this is my newest portrait--chalked by Tate...I love my curly cue hair. Isn't it the cutest?}

The End.

Tater's First Day of School.

It's hard to believe my second little one is in Kindergarten. I don't think I've entirely gotten over the shock. It still seems so unreal that it's just Maylie and me in the mornings now. And I don't even want to think about next year when both boys will be gone all day.

The day dawned bright and early for my little Tater Bug--who is not really a morning person and prefers sleeping in and waking up slow. I crept in to their bedroom and woke him up slowly with a back rub and cuddles. That first morning he woke up quickly--maybe because he was so excited...or nervous. (Now that he's gone to school for two weeks, the newness has worn off and he likes to roll over and go back to sleep; but I am persistent.) I listened to their morning prayers and helped them make their beds and get dressed.

He chose toast for breakfast and of course, as is tradition, he ate from his golden plate that gets used on every special occasion.

After we combed hair and said family prayer, and took our traditional front porch first day of school picture, Tate asked me to kiss the palm of his hand. At first I thought, "What!?" He's so grown up he won't even let me kiss him on the cheek anymore? But I kissed his hand anyway, and he held it up to his cheek and then over his heart. And then I knew.

It was a "Kissing Hand." I had meant to read him that book the night before, but we forgot. And yet, somehow, during one of the times he listened to the story, he had stored away that special information for future use. My heart kind of broke as I watched him walk out to the garage with his hand over his heart and ask Easton to open the car door for him so he wouldn't have to move his hand.

Patrick took the boys to the bus stop and Easton promised to take good care of Tate on the bus and sit with him so he wouldn't be scared. Back at home, Maylie and I got ready in 10 minutes and then Patrick picked us up and we all headed over to the school. We met the boys in the commons area and when they finally raised the gates so they could go to their classrooms, Easton hustled off to his room without so much as a goodbye--he's so grown-up these days. Tate was clutching my hand nervously but was grinning and looked excited.

When we got to his classroom, I helped him find his cubby to hang his backpack and then we found his seat. It was such a tender mercy that his teacher put him on the "orange table." It was a comfort to him that he got to sit at the table with his favorite color. He wouldn't sit down at first; he just wrapped himself around me, begging me not to leave. So I told him I would stay for a few minutes until his teacher told me to go.

He reluctantly sat down and I stood behind him while the other kids all got situated. One by one the parents started saying their goodbyes and drifting out of the room, while the teacher passed out coloring pages. It was all so soon and so sudden. I wasn't sure if I was ready--and I knew Tate wasn't. I lingered a little longer, hoping other parents would too, but pretty soon I was the last one. So I leaned down to Tate and whispered in his ear that it was time for me to go. He gripped my hand and said, "But my teacher hasn't told the parents to leave yet!!!!" I showed him that all the other parents were gone and I needed to go too, but I would watch him from the window for a few minutes. I told him he would have so much fun and that his teacher would be so nice and I would see him in just a little while. He finally let go of my hand, gave me one last hug and I kissed his head.

Patrick and I watched through the window for a few minutes, and he never looked back. He seemed to be doing just fine. So we chatted with our neighbors as we walked out the door and I had to put on a happy face. But as soon as we parted ways, my eyes filled with tears and the whole reality of it fell upon me like I knew it would. It had happened with Easton on his first day of Kindergarten and I was prepared for the rush of memories that would accompany the sadness this time around. Even so, it wasn't enough to take away the sting...

...I remembered holding Tate for the first time in the hospital that cold, snowy December night and noticing his cute little ears and nose first thing. I remembered seeing him smile for the first time on my cherry wood bed with the patchwork quilt in our little Rexburg cottage. I remember how he had calmed and comforted my heart from the very beginning. And the feeling of sublime peace he brought to our family that winter of 2008-2009. And then the memories flashed past in spurts--just little things like his big blue eyes, his marshmallowy little body. His utter contentedness in every aspect of his life. Watching him explore Gram and Pop's sheds--observing the wonder of it all. His humor, his joy, his silliness, his perfect politeness and sweetness. Truly, there has never been another quite like our little Tater Bug. And I walked in the windy street to the car wondering how five years can seem like the blink of an eye. Oh my little one, how was I ever blessed to be your mother??

The morning passed quickly--but it was so strange with just me and Maylie. The dynamics changed when Easton left and they changed again with Tate's departure. And soon, we were waiting down at the bus stop for our little boy to return. We waited there with the other mothers for over 45 minutes, they were so late. But Maylie faithfully held the small bag of candy corns she had been entrusted with--leaving them unopened as a gift for Tate for being so brave and not even crying a bit. And when the bus finally stopped, I saw him through the window, waving excitedly with the biggest grin on his face.

He skipped over to us and koala-bear hugged me (meaning he wraps his arms and legs around me completely). Maylie gave him his candy corns and of course, as is custom for Tate, he happily offered to share with her and told me all about his day (or at least all about recess) as we walked back home.

All in all, I survived and he thrived. It's different having him all grown-up and gone, but change is part of life, I am accepting this change as good and blessed, even if my heart will always secretly weep for those days long past that will only be relived in my memory.

Dear Tate,
You are amazing and brave and bright and bubbly and sweet and perfect just exactly the way you are. I could not live without you. You are my ocean of peace.

Com grande amor,
Mommy

P.S. I love you...

First Day of School.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012, was Easton's very first day of school.  A landmark day to be sure.

He looked so grown up sitting there all confident on the porch, posing for his pictures.

The boys rode with Patrick and I took Maylie in the other car.  I cried all the way to the school as I listened to the song that plays on his newborn movie I made him.  It's always been his song and every time I listen to it, I think of him.  I couldn't help but replay the movie in my mind--his swollen, perfect, big, blue eyes, and the way he had looked so familiar when I held him the first time.  I remembered him as a baby, putting a bowl on his head, then as a toddler with always a crocheted hat, and now as a little boy.  I can't believe the time's passed so swiftly....

When we walked him in to class, he wasn't a bit nervous.  He gave me a hug and a kiss, and I pushed the tears back long enough to say, "You'll have so much fun!"  Then he walked into his class with all the silent confidence in the world.  That's when my tears started building.  I tried to wave to him through the classroom windows, but he was too riveted on his teacher and his new surroundings.  The four of us walked out of the building and my tears found their way to my cheeks with accompanying sobs.  Patrick wrapped his arm around me and smiled.  "Why are you crying?"

"Because I'm just so sad that he's all grown up and I'm going to miss him so much.  Aren't you sad?"

"No.  I'm happy for him.  He'll have a great time."

And he did.

Back-to-School Feast 2012

Can it be?  Easton has really started school and is loving every minute of it.  Each night before he goes to bed, he lays out his clothes in a neat little line in the order of how he will put them on the next day: underwear, shorts, shirt, socks, shoes, and backpack.  But I'm getting ahead of myself....

Monday was a taxingly busy day.  We had a back-to-school party and so I spent most of the day making preparations for the evenings activities...and dodging a mouse.  He scared me half to death when I walked in the kitchen and he darted under the dishwasher.  I didn't even know what to do.  I thought we were done with mice in our last abode.  But alas, the mouse hunt began again.  Later, as we were doing the dishes and I was explaining what had happened to Patrick, the mouse came scampering out from under the fridge and ran right between my feet.  I screamed so loud that the mouse jumped inside the dishwasher, jumped back out, and ran under the dishwasher again.  So we set up 4 mouse traps all in a line in front of the dishwasher and left the house to get a cat.  When we came back a few hours later, the mouse was caught, and we had a new kitten which we affectionately named, Cougar...after our favorite BYU team...and because she's a golden color.

At dinner, Easton was the king of kindergarten and used "the golden plate" (and cup and bowl) for our feast.

This tradition of using the golden plate stems from my growing up days and we finally got a golden place setting (thank you Mom :)  We feasted on ham & bean soup and golden wheat rolls. 

 

While we were eating we had a lesson on David and Goliath and the boys opened a little present--5 small stones laced together to put in their special boxes.  The stones will remind them of the faith we must have in our Savior to face our challenges, and the testimony that Heavenly Father will always deliver us in some way from our trials.

After the mouse and kitten escapade was over, Easton tried on his clothes for the next day and did a fashion show for us while dancing to "Cello Wars."  I have it all on video. :)  Then right before bed we had gingersnap "Kissing Hand" cookies with milk while I read to my little sweeties one of my favorite books, "The Kissing Hand." Patrick and I each kissed one of Easton's hands and then he kissed ours in return.  The funny thing is, he had us kiss different sides...so when he puts his hands to his face to "feel our kisses," he looks rather silly.  He's darling and such a good boy.  I'm so blessed to be his mother.

And though we ran ourselves crazy, I felt that our back-to-school feast was a big success.  I can't wait for next year already!

Graduation May 2012

Dear Patrick,

I'm not quite sure how to tell you all that's in my heart.  We've traveled on this road for some time now, and looking back I am utterly amazed at how far we've come.

It's hard to believe that we started this journey of PT school in August of 2009.  We only had a little bit of furniture, two bachelor's degrees between the two of us, a little two year old, an 8-month old, a heap of stored-up dreams, and a lot of love.

I could hardly imagine the day that you would graduate...it seemed so small and far away.  But now, here we are, and here you are, all grown-up and a Doctor of Physical Therapy.

And now we've accumulated a little more furniture, are renting a house, starting to build our dream house, and enjoying life with an almost 5 year old, a 3 year old, and our first baby girl.  Could life be any more magical? I think not.

You started the job of your dreams last week and I can't believe that we are here, living real life...not that life wasn't real before, but life was always waiting and waiting for the next hurdle to jump and the next bridge to cross.  But no more waiting.  This is life, and it is so incredible.

I was so proud of you as they read your name and you walked across the stage to be hooded.  Little tears blurred my vision, and I felt so bad that of all the people I wanted to clap for the most, I couldn't clap for you because I was videoing the whole experience.  It was glorious.

Well, now begins the next chapter of our never-ending love story, sweetheart.  And I'm so glad I get to spend this never-ending adventure with you.

Love always,

your Jamie

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.

Autumn brings

a sense of change into the air that signals the beginnings of all things new...or is it just all things old turning older that makes them look so new?

Think of aging leaves changing into new and vibrant colors.

Think of the aging year that was birthed in the spring and whirled round and round in the summer. But now the year is beginning to slow and turn crisper, because it's autumn.  And that's what happens to aging years in the autumn.  Soon this aging year will creep and crawl into a frozen winter of beauty and stillness and inner warmth before we bury it on December 31st and a fresh year cycles anew on January 1st.

This change that ceaselessly amazes me brings, in the fall time, memories of sharp wooden pencils, new wax crayons, homemade lunches in little boxes, long-sleeve sweaters, and photos on the porch before embarking on a new school time adventure.

And though my little boys didn't leave home for school this year, it was still a new beginning, complete with first-day pictures, a re-purposed preschool room, precisely prepared curriculum that is still running smoothy along, and homemade applesauce.

Welcome Preschool 2011-2012.