Story Time.

Maylie is my little bookworm. She loves to pull all of the books off our shelf and read and read and read. She is a girl after my own heart.

And though I am so far from the perfect mother, there is one tradition that I cherish--one thing that I do well--and that is read to my children. 

Back when I had postpartum depression shortly after Maylie was born, I felt so completely overwhelmed. I felt, for some reason, that I was the worst mother in existence. I thought it was hopeless and that no matter how hard I tried, I would always fall miserably short of all the mothers around me. It was a despondent feeling and a time to which I never wish to return. 

But there is one good thing that came out of that time: Daily Story Time.

I remember talking to my mom day after day as she counseled me through this rough time. And one particular conversation stands out in my mind as life-changing. She told me that I don't need to do everything or be everything to my children. I don't need to plan elaborate lesson plans or fancy homemade games or hours of one-on-one playtimes. She told me that one of the most important things I could do was to read to them for 20 minutes a day. This, she said, more than any other educational activity I could plan, would most help them in their lives.

I thought long and hard about the simplicity of her suggestion. And I had such a slight glimmer of hope arise in my heart. I knew, in my depressed and down-trodden state, that I would never be able to do even a fraction of what I wanted as a mother. But I also knew that I COULD do this. I could read to my children. I already had been reading to them pretty consistently but after this conversation, story time took on an added layer of meaning. It wasn't something I had to do. It was something I wanted to do. And it was heartwarming and quieting and calming. And I truly believe that story time became a life-saver to me during this most difficult period of my life.

To this day, if I pick up a book and begin to read, my children will gather around me and settle down and quiet themselves. They will sit like this for as long as I read. And I am grateful.

I am grateful for their love of books. I am grateful that after our half an hour story time (which always happens every day right after lunch), Maylie takes a stack of books to bed with her for her nap and reads them aloud until she falls asleep.

I am grateful for every night that we get to bed early enough that the children can have 20 minutes of "Quiet Time" to read by the light of their lamps all curled up snug in their beds.

Truly, I am grateful for books. And I am grateful to my own mother for the thousands of story times she gave to us. She passed on to me such a treasured legacy that I am privileged now to pass on to my  own little children.

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...

Lagoon!

We met at Natalie and Jon's in the morning to eat lunch and have a family home evening lesson. Papa taught us about spiritual gifts and encouraged us to help our children know what spiritual gifts they have as well as nudge them gently in the direction of the spiritual gifts we perceive they could develop. It was a simple but profound lesson and it's been on my mind ever since. I felt very inspired during his lesson, that this is one of the primary objectives of a mother's nurturing. And I felt called to pursue this mission actively while my children are little and all throughout their growing up years. I have far to go as I begin this process, but the journey excites me. It's always been my deepest, most poignant desire to help my children discover who they are, love who they are and those around them, grow their talents and gifts, point them to the temple, and return home to Heavenly Father. And this charge to recognize and encourage the development of spiritual gifts fits right in with what I feel my motherhood purpose is. Thank you Dad.

*****

Easton and Natalie and Nana rode most of the rides together--Easton's favorite was the Tidal Wave, the Swings,  and Bombora. (I think they went on the Swings 5 or 6 times in a row). Tate joined me and Patrick for most of the day--riding all the new rides he's grown into now that he's barely 46". He loved the Wild Mouse, the Turn of the Century, and most of all the Bumper Cars and Wicked. When we watched his face during Wicked the first time, both Patrick and I were scared. He looked like he was going to be sick or pass out. But as soon as the ride stopped, he got the biggest grin on his face and said, "Let's do it again!!!" And we did--4 more times that day. Easton decided very diplomatically that he didn't want to do Wicked this year (even though he'd been talking about how it was his favorite ride all year.) But that's okay. Maybe next year all 4 of us can go on it together. Maylie loved the Bumper Cars too and the Merry-go-Round and the boats. She didn't love the LadyBug Drop--she was so scared. So we didn't go on that one again. It was so much fun to go on rides with my children. It always is. I don't know why, but it always strikes a sense of wonder in me to see the childlike wonder of my children. They are mesmerized by everything and their enthusiasm bubbles over into my heart as well. It's so fun to take them on all the rides I loved growing up. It's always so magical.

As it turned out, rain was forecasted for our Lagoon trip too this year. But our sweet boys prayed in faith again and fully knew the Lord would bless the skies. And he did. Again. The weather was perfect for almost the entire day. And then around 8:00 pm the downpour began. We were drenched and huddling under shelter while Easton ran around with Jason (who had a jacket) and went on as many rides as he could. Easton wanted to stay and ride more until Lagoon closed, but the rest of us decided it was a good time to end our evening and barely made it to the car in-between downpours.

What a special day we had! I only wish that it wouldn't have been raining there at the end so we could have bought bounce back passes! Maybe next year.... :)

It Was Mom: A Mother's Day Tribute To Moms #itwasmom

Tomorrow is one of my favorite days of the year. There's something really special about celebrating a day that is in honor of YOU and your mother(s), grandmothers, and all of your heritage--as well as all of the mothers worldwide who live or have ever lived. I don't know quite how to explain it, but I feel as if all mothers join in this special bond on this one day a year and are revered for all of the world-changing work they do. There's something so sweet and so powerful about the whole day that causes a continual lump in your throat. Tears are close to the surface and the whole day is somehow softer, and lighter, with a gentle air about it.



And so today (and tomorrow), I wish to express my deep gratitude for the mothers in my life. My young women leaders who mothered me in their own special way; grandmothers on both sides of the veil who have shaped me, nurtured me, comforted me when no one else was there, and been my very best friends; a mother-in-law who treats me as if I were her own daughter, loves me, and cares for me; and most especially, for my very own, one-of-a-kind, perfectly perfect, all-star mother who raised me, loved me when no one else did, championed everything I've ever attempted, inspired me to great heights, and in reality, laid down her very life for me time after time, in so many ways. I love you Mother. Forever and for always you will be the one revered as Mother Supreme in my eyes.



Love Always,



Jamie (Gigi)



And, if you have a minute, watch this short video.

To all of the mothers everywhere, this is the sweetest tribute of the year.

#itwasmom

On Motherhood.

It's raining tonight--hard--and I love it. I feel like I'm back in Portugal in my upstairs bedroom wrapped in my baby blue fleece blanket and laying over the radiator by my desk. I so dearly miss my room. And to think that I'll never see it again gives me a little lump in my throat.

Today I had a Senior Pictures Photo Session scheduled, but the weather pushed it back a week. And to think only three more photo sessions to go before my "pause." Here is what I posted on my Homespun Photographs Facebook page today:

I have been battling with myself the last few weeks but today I've finally reached a resolution. I need to push the pause button on my beloved Homespun Photographs business. The past few years have been thrilling and full of such good memories with all of my amazing clients. I love capturing your sweet moments and memories, but I have been feeling the tug to treasure more of those memories with my own family as of late. And seeing as my children are getting busier as they get older (which never occurred to me when I just had two little toddlers), this summer and the whole rest of this year is already a flurry. So with that said, I have committed to pausing my photography business until further notice. I will finish out the sessions I have scheduled through June and then begin my leave of absence. Thank you to all who have supported me through this photography journey and have hired me as your photographer. You will always be more than clients--you will remain my dear friends!!

Last year, when I really "opened my business" I did so with the full intent to save every single penny for the boys' missions. With our gigantic graduate school debt that loomed into our future 25 years, I never thought there would be enough for their missions. I prayed long and hard and felt impressed to use my business as a means to pay for this most important goal. Even so, I felt so very burdened with finances last year despite how blessed and fortunate we were.

Then one day last fall the Lord opened up a window that I never thought would open and we found a solution to our school debt that will knock off 15 years of payments. It was a miracle and a very real answer to our heartfelt prayers. And I felt deep down in my heart that this new window that had opened was the Lord's way of telling me that He would provide for my sons' missions--that He had accepted my offering to do all in my power to earn the money, and that it was enough. And ever since that time, I knew that the business I had worked for so long to create, would be put on hold so I could raise my children in the way the Lord has inspired me.

I feel so bittersweet about the whole thing but there is a peace in my heart that assures me I am doing the right thing. I stand in complete awe that I am the mother to 3 beautiful, perfect children from heaven. I feel so very honored that Heavenly Father has gifted me with this incredible, exhilarating stewardship. And I am reverenced at how the Lord has led me along this past year in finding my way as a mother and discovering just how powerful I truly am. Though far from perfect, I now radiate a light that comes from Him and shine it on my family daily.

In short, I have fallen in love with being a mother---hook, line, and sinker---and each new day that I get to spend with them is a delight....

I know it will ever be so.

Today.

Nana and Papa came on their way down South. They brought us a whole huge box of books...all mine from when I was little. They also brought huge pixie sticks for the sweeties (which soon turned into fencing instruments) and lots of little candy legos...

We talked and laughed. It was so nice to see them. With all of us being sick off and on for the last 3 months, we haven't been able to get together at all (minus the girls' princess trip we had a few weeks back).

They walked around our home and admired all the decorating projects I've been up to. We scanned the basement and talked over possible plans for finishing it. Then we gazed out over the backyard at all the rocks we've lined for flower beds. We talked about the summer plans for our yard and about how this perfect little home and this soon-to-be-perfect yard is my children's whole universe. And the hills surrounding us--though not as picturesque as wheat fields and cornfields, are perfect for long walks and exploring. And with the coming of our fence in just a few weeks, and our grass in just a few weeks after that, it will be such a perfect world for my little children.

And so I've set aside this home-on-a-farm dream that I've held so long. Maybe I'll pick it up again when the nest is empty and Patrick and I are ready for a new adventure. Or maybe not. Maybe this home will weave itself so tightly into my heart that I won't be able to let it go...not for all the cornfields in the country. Time will only tell.

But regardless of where we will live in 25 years, whether it is here, or a new home, or an existing home remodeled in the country, my home will be the perfect place to invite family and friends and new mothers and little grandchildren to come take a few days and relax. It will be a place of retreat for any who need to chat, rest, and rejuvenate. This will be my purpose then. And I'm so extremely grateful that the Lord gave me this vision last night of the next season of my life. Because it made me realize that not all of my dreams have to come true right now. When I'm 50, I'll enter another glorious stage with nearly half of my life still ahead of me. And if it is right to take my farmhouse dream off the shelf, then I will. And if not, I won't. I will know then. But either way, my purpose of offering a safe haven of love to my family will be the same.

And as for this season....it's supremely GLORIOUS! I was given a vision of that last night as well. This perfect little Sun Haven Cottage is to become--today--an MTC for my children....a Missionary Training Center and a Motherhood Training Center. And my purpose continues to be to nurture my little ones in love and righteousness...to help them discover their testimonies, teach them the truths of the gospel and practical life skills; to help them discover and refine their talents; to play with them in childlike wonder; to bring a love of music into their hearts; to bind us together through meaningful, simple family traditions; and to bring us Home together--back to the presence of our Father.

But I've rambled off on a tangent....

Back to Nana and Papa...

When it was time for them to go, we walked outside to say goodbye. But then we heard the ice cream truck's melody, and so Papa gave us $5 and we ran down the sidewalk in our bare feet to buy some ice cream. The boys have long been wanting to do this but we always seem to miss it when it comes around!

And as we walked back to our home in the warm April sunshine, I smiled to myself with all the happiness that's deep inside of me...This small-town life of mine, it's mine...and it's oh so good.

Scratch that, it's oh so perfect--perfectly perfect in every way.

And I wouldn't change a single thing.

Tea Party Girl's Night.

A few Saturdays ago the boys headed down to Provo for the BYU Basketball game and as for me and Maylie?  Well, we decided to have our very first Girl's Night.

It began with a pretend tea party with all of her favorite dolls (Baby Mama, Sugar Baby, Hello Kitty, etc.)  I think Maylie was in heaven pouring pretend refreshments for her guests and giving them cute little wooden sugar cookies....and she didn't even know what was in store for her next...

For little did Maylie know that we were going to have a real tea party of our very own.

We made cutout cookies...

got dressed in pretty dresses (she picked hers {it's her Sunday slip})...

and tried a brand-new hairstyle....

Then we began getting ready for our Mommy and Maylie Tea Party.

 She was pretty excited.

Afterwards we painted our toe nails and we painted Maylie's fingernails for the very first time!  She was thrilled as you will soon see in the pictures below.

We danced around for a little while and then ended a sweet, special, perfect little night with a girly movie that we never get to watch with a houseful of boys. :)  It was Tinkerbell and it was the cutest movie I have seen in such a long time.

This night was magical.  I never wanted it to end.  Watching Maylie light up and glow during the movie warmed my heart so much.  I was instantly transported back to my childhood carefree days of sweet little princess and fairy movies, tea parties, hair-dos, painted pink nails, and twirly white dresses.

And I'm sitting here crying as I listen to "Never Grow Up" as I write these words.  Oh Miss Maylie Grace my sweet baby girl, "Please try to never grow up..."

But today is not the day when you will grow up and move away...that day is still so far distant.  Which makes me so completely glad.  Glad that our tea party days are just beginning and glad that I still get to cuddle and snuggle you a thousand more times.  And I commit to you my princess that I will give you many more such magical nights and special Mommy-Maylie days.  Because you are mine, and I am yours forever.

Love you Maylie girl.