Rachel and Family

First Day of School

2010-08-28T19:42:00.002-06:00

Our first day of school this year was Tuesday, August 24th. Jacob started 5th grade in the CAS (Center for Accelerated Studies) program, so he has to leave early to catch the bus to his new school. Claire is in 3rd grade. It looks like it's going to be a good year.

Party on, Isaac!

2010-08-20T10:24:00.000-06:00

Saturday morning up Rock Canyon

2010-08-06T08:03:00.001-06:00

Claire

2010-06-26T22:20:00.002-06:00

Primary counselor: Why did Heavenly Father choose Joseph Smith when he was just 14 years old?
Claire: Because he had a fresh brain.

Church Talk, as Primary President, March 2010

2010-05-07T23:21:00.001-06:00

We were given the topic “Nourish the Seed with Great Care” to speak on today. The title of my talk is “Seeds and Weeds”.

Gardening

I love gardening. I like getting my hands dirty, clearing away the weeds, watching my little plants grow as things of beauty, enjoying the flowers and fragrances, harvesting the herbs to season my food, mint for my tea, and fruit to eat. I like taking my kitchen scraps and working it back into compost, so that instead of creating more waste, I am conserving nutrients and energy.

Last year, we couldn’t have a garden because we moved here in the middle of summer. That was hard on me. It wasn’t the harvest that I missed so much as the work and the connection to the earth and her subtly changing seasons. I did yard work, clearing rubble, mowing the lawn and trimming the little bushes that we hope one day will be a hedge, but without the same satisfaction. But yesterday, Clint and I worked together and started our compost bins. The work for our garden has begun.

One of the things I like best about gardening is the transience of it. You have to work to create order and beauty, but in the end, it will all die.

(We were told by a neighbor of the beautiful garden that used to be in our yard. And then it was asphalt. And now it’s tempermental grass and a rubble choked, goathead infested dirt plot with a truly ugly fence and an anemic little hedge.)

Gardening is a work with transient results, but it is not futile. If we garden long enough through a season, we will reap a harvest. If we use good practices over time, we can enrich the soil, establish strong trees and herbs and bulbs that will make a little corner of the earth more beautiful for a time, a beauty that may persist despite neglect and be revived by a new gardener in the future.

The best fruit harvested gardening is the change wrought within the gardener because of the work. In the work of cultivating life and beauty, we are given life and beauty.

(Growing up, my neighbors always had a beautiful garden. They taught me to pick cotton and dig for peanuts. Mrs. Walker swept off my bottom with a broom before I could enter the house. She died when she was 90. Mr. Walker kept on going, old and frail as he was, climbing on the roof to repair it and tilling out the garden. The year he couldn’t plant his garden was the year he died. He needed the work to live.)

I believe that living the gospel is much like caring for a garden. We choose to plant certain seeds, constantly try to rid ourselves of unwanted weeds, and work our whole lives, knowing that in the end, our work alone is insufficient. We will always be in debt to God for our hope of redemption just as we are indebted for the very earth we plunge our hands into. Our efforts, no matter how great, will never be enough to save ourselves. But we are transformed by our work, spiritual and physical, and that granted change gives us meaning in life and hope of redemption.

Seeds

Enough of physical gardening. What are the spiritual seeds we plant that we want to nourish with great care?

The obvious first is the gospel, the very ideas we have embraced enough to be here today. Faith in God, in Christ. A belief that this church is directed by God, and that by being a part of the community it creates, that we will draw closer to God. These little seedings need constant tending.

Another set of spiritual seeds are the covenants we make. I firmly believe that inasmuch as we strive to live our covenants, we will be given strength and purpose. I don’t believe that I will ever, in my life, be able to live up to the covenants I’ve made. I will always fail in bearing another’s burden or consecrating all that I have to the church, but that by struggling to fulfil these covenants, I am approaching God. (Think of calculus—I am approaching what I need to become, the limit, although I will never reach it.) But I’ll be damned if I don’t try to live up to those covenants. My progress will be halted, I’ll be cut off from the fount of inspiration and cut off from the presence of God. The plants that spring from the seed of covenants are in my garden for life.

A last seed is a calling. These may be seeds that we only plant because we feel obligated to do so. We recognize the value of them, but do not particularly want to have this plant growing in our little garden. (Why would you plant okra if you hate the sliminess of it, even if that is one of the key ingredients to making gumbo so delicious?)

I never had aspirations to be a primary president. And I never thought I would be any good as a primary president if called. I had an image in my mind of what you might call the platonic ideal of a primary president. She would be kind and gracious. Sing well, make adorable crafts with the children, know all of their names and be overly sentimental about them and her calling. Cry whenever she bears her testimony about how much she loves each and every one of the children. Visit the homes and families of children who cannot come to church. And so on.

You can see that I had mixed feelings about the calling. And that is why I was so shocked when Bishop Worthen called me to be primary president here. But this seed I would never have chosen has started to grow in me. The more I work on cultivating it, the better I am able to serve. It surprises me all the time. I am more willing to talk to people in church I haven’t met. I am drawn to children’s faces and want to help them.

I had always held the attitude that the work I do at church should benefit the people who make the effort to come, whether I was teaching a class on Sunday or organizing an enrichment meeting, or planning a primary activity. If you come, it should be worth your time. If you don’t come, your loss. This calling, this little budding seed, is changing my attitude. Now I am concerned for my missing children. I want the best for them, I want to give them tools to realize their potential for good and happiness in this life. I found myself holding back tears at our last presidency meeting, as we talked about including a little child, not a member, who lives here in our ward. Some children have the deck stacked against them. It’s not fair. And to my surprise, in this position, I feel the call to help even the odds, to reach out and embrace these children. (And so, against expectation, I have grown to be sentimental, and I do love the children.

Weeds

These seeds we plant, our covenants, our faith and hope, our aspirations and goals, do not exist in a vacuum. Our hearts are not clean little garden plots where we plant the one and only seed of the gospel. We are not planting these seeds in sterile soil where nothing else can grow. To skip briefly to another agricultural parable, consider the wheat and the tares. The righteous and the wicked who will be burned as stubble at the second coming of our Lord. The wheat, that’s good seed. That’s who we want to be. The tares, they’re just weeds.

Invasive weeds are plants that do not belong in a certain area. They are not native to the place they invade, and once they come, they destroy the equilibrium, the natural balance that had existed prior to their arrival. They first take hold in areas that have been disturbed, where the naturally occurring vegetation has been removed. Think of verge on either side of the road or construction zones where destructive weeds take hold. Then they spread.

What weeds are growing in the garden of your heart? What kudzu is dominating the thoughts of your mind? What invasive weeds have taken root in the fragile disturbed areas of your soul?

And remember that by clearing a little patch of ground to garden, you are disturbing the soil, creating an open invitation for opportunistic weeds. If you make changes in your life, even good ones, like trying to read the scriptures more or going to the temple, you are, by that very change, making your soul vulnerable, to pain, frustration and temptation. I’m sure you’ve experienced it, how hard it is to do the right thing.

Even if you aren’t making drastic changes, sometimes they come to you. Depression puts a person in a very fragile state that weeds of doubt, guilt, shame and anger thrive in. And they are incredibly difficult to uproot when you are so weak. When I had post partem depression, even praying and reading scriptures regularly could not ease my mind or clear the weeds from my thoughts.

I believe in the power of affirmations, the repeated phrase of what you hope to be true, of what you need to be true. This mantra got me through post-partum depression: I am gentle and loving and kind. I listen and speak softly. I am a good mother. I love my children.
At the time, I couldn’t believe any of those things. If I didn’t feel numb and emotionally dead, I felt unspeakable sorrow, or sudden flashes of fierce violent anger. I was beset by
negative, painful, self destructive thoughts, as unwanted and painful as the goatheads that litter the plot of dirt we hope to garden.
So I repeated my mantra, what I hoped could be true. Every conscious repetition was an act of cultivating my thoughts. When the critical, belittling voices in my head attack, I quietly breathe and counter them with what I choose to believe, halting the progress of the noxious weeds in my mind.

Sunday School lessons, for adults, are not to teach, but to remember, to be sure that we are all still growing the same variety of plants in our internal gardens.

So let us all work. Let us toil and till. Let us nurture our faith and community. Let us cling to our covenants and gain strength from them and delight in the blooms of un-sought-for callings.

Go to your gardens, go to the quiet spaces in your soul. Take stock of what is growing there. Cultivate and strengthen those seeds, those plants, whose fruit you want to harvest. Cull out the even encroaching weeds, so that you may be a sanctuary of order and beauty, that the fruits of your field may be an acceptable offering before God.

Zion

2010-05-07T22:50:00.003-06:00

We went backpacking in the Southwest Desert area of Zion National Park over Easter weekend. The kids packed in their own gear about four miles to our campsite. We saw tadpoles, lizards, ground squirrels, and tons of petrified wood from the Chinle formation. Jacob sat on a catcus. Isaac learned to point at cacti and say "sharp", "hurt", "ow". Claire learned if you accidentally wet your pants, you don't have to go pee behind a bush. All in all, we had a great time.

There are more pictures on my facebook page.

Back to School

2010-02-18T08:21:00.002-07:00

I finally heard back from the admissions office at BYU. I get to start taking classes this spring. I'm signed up for PHIL 350R Philosophy and Literature. Of course, only 3 other people have registered for it so far. I figure if it doesn't make, I'll try to add one of the writing classes that filled up before I got accepted.

I need to audit some Spanish classes too. At least half of the parents at my children's elementary school don't speak English, including one of my daughter's best friends. But there are no evening Spanish classes this term. I'll just have to wait until Isaac goes to preschool. With luck, he may start this fall.

My current, nebulous plan is to take one or two classes a semester, concentrating on philosophy and other humanities courses. Then when Isaac starts school, I can begin graduate work. I'm not completely sure what I want to do yet, but I know I want to be in the humanities field, and there's no better way to start thinking clearly and writing soundly than philosophy. It also helps that those were my strongest classes as an undergrad all those years ago.

So here I go. Wish me luck.

So am I an Obamite?

2010-02-01T12:34:00.002-07:00

The following email disturbed me. Is it verifiable? (I especially like the confidentiality disclaimer at the end. Is that meant to add verisimilitude or scare me away from posting something like this? It clearly is not meant to stop the forwarding chain.)

I don’t doubt that there are many logistical problems on the ground in Haiti, some of them exacerbated by ideological differences. But the main purpose of this email seems to be not to point out problems so that they may be addressed and rectified. Rather it is using the human suffering of this terrible catastrophe to sow dissent and fling insults, to create and demonize enemies out of the flawed people who are struggling to help in this crisis.

It uses the word “Obamite” as a perjorative. From the text, an Obamite is a young, emotional worker with USAID, with no more apparent brains than a groupie, but yet is pursing a sinister, communist agenda. And the author equates the French and French speakers with worthless anti-Americans. (Although as a former French colony, Haiti will certainly have Creole and French speakers.)

The author complains about the UN wasting American taxpayers’ money for the last five years in Haiti, an assertion that is neither supported by any evidence nor shown to be relevant to the disaster relief effort.

Although not logically relevant to the ostensible purpose of the email, the jab against the UN is fully in keeping with the underlying agenda of this type of chain email; that is, to sow dissent and vilify the current administration. The entire missive is horribly opportunistic, using the worst disaster in the Western Hemisphere (according to Pres. Bush and Clinton in their appeal for donations) to malign the UN, USAID, the French, the Obama administration and anyone who doesn’t current feel in their guts that the above mentioned of evil.

How is this productive? How are any problems solved? How can there be any hope of solving the problems that face our country (because this email is about the political battle in our country, not Haiti) is each side is demonizing the other? Having made the other side out to be in league with the devil, no civil discourse, much less compromise, is possible. This type of poison that has completely permeated our politics is destroying our government.

And, as a final note, the email misspells Port-au-Prince and Port o Prince. But perhaps that was a deliberate Anglicization to avoid insulting Haiti.

-Rachel 2-1-10

FW: A Haiti Perspective From a Marine Rescuer
...
Mon, February 1, 2010 6:44:03 AM

From:
...
View Contact
To:

From:
To:

Subject: A Haiti Perspective From a Marine Rescuer
Date: Mon, 1 Feb 2010 06:55:46 -0600

Sent to me by Anne Kroeger, who knows these people.......pretty disheartening, but I'm not surprised.

Subject: A Haiti Perspective From a Marine Rescuer.
I served in the SOG (Special Operations Group) in Viet Nam with Brockhausen and Hebler, they have both been involved with various disaster relief programs for the last several years to include Hurricane Katrina. They have both always been straight shooters and known to call a spade a spade, as well as sometimes using very "colorful" language. So I have no doubts as to the truthfulness of what he's saying.

News back from Nick Brockhausen.

He and Dennis Hebler made it back somewhat safe and sound.

To All,

I just returned from Haiti with Hebler. We flew in at 3 AM Sunday to the scene of such incredible destruction on one side, and enormous ineptitude and criminal neglect on the other.

Port o Prince is in ruins. The rest of the country is fairly intact. Our team was a rescue team and we carried special equipment that locates people buried under the rubble. There are easily 200,000 dead, the city smells like a charnal house. The bloody UN was there for 5 years doing apparently nothing but wasting US Taxpayers money. The ones I ran into were either incompetents or outright anti American. Most are French or french speakers, worthless every damn one of them.

While 1800 rescuers were ready willing and able to leave the airport and go do our jobs, the UN and USAID ( another organization full of little OBamites and communists that openly speak against Americana) These two organizations exemplared their parochialism by:

USAID, when in control of all inbound flights, had food and water flights stacked up all
the way to Miami, yet allowed Geraldo Rivera, Anderson Cooper and a host of other left wing news puppies to land.

Pulled all the security off the rescue teams so that Bill Clinton and his wife could have the grand tour, whilst we sat unable to get to people trapped in the rubble.

Stacked enough food and water for the relief over at the side of the airfield then put a guard on it while we dehydrated and wouldn't release a drop of it to the rescuers.

No shower facilities to decontaminate after digging or moving corpses all day, except for the FEMA teams who brought their own shower and decon equipment, as well as air conditioned tents.No latrine facilities, less digging a hole; if you set up a shitter everyone was trying to use it.

I watched a 25 year old Obamite with the USAID shrieking hysterically, berate a full bird colonel in the air force, because he countermanded her orders, whilst trying to unscrew the air pattern. " You don't know what your president wants! The military isn't in charge here we are!"

If any of you are thinking of giving money to the Haitian relief, or to the UN don't waste your money. It will only go to further the goals of the French and the Liberal left.

If we are a fair and even society, why is it that only white couples are adopting Haitian orphans. Where the hell is that vocal minority that is always screaming about the injustice of American society.

Bad place, bad situation, but a perfect look at the new world order in action. New Orleans magnified a thousand times. Haiti doesn't need democracy, what Haiti needs is
Papa Doc. That's not just my opinion , that is what virtually every Haitian we talked with said. the French run the UN treat us the same as when we were a colony, at least Papa
Doc ran the country.

Oh, and as a last slap in the face the last four of us had to take US AIRWAY's home from Phoenix. They slapped me with a 590 dollar baggage charge for the four of us.

The girl at the counter was almost in tears because she couldn't give us a discount or she would lose her job. Pass that on to the flying public.

Nick

-

God Bless America and the U.S. Marine Corps

The Law Office of Burleigh J. Brewer, P.C.
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949.833.7824, Fax 949.833.3133

THIS COMMUNICATION IS ATTORNEY-CLIENT PRIVILEGE/CONFIDENTIAL. IF THE READER OF THIS MESSAGE IS NOT THE INTENDED RECIPIENT, OR THE EMPLOYEE OR AGENT RESPONSIBLE FOR DELIVERING THE MESSAGE TO THE INTENDED RECIPIENT, YOU ARE HEREBY NOTIFIED THAT ANY DISSEMINATION, DISTRIBUTION OR COPYING OF THIS COMMUNICATION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED.

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My kids at church

2010-01-14T08:46:00.002-07:00

Human Reproduction

My college age sister was stunned the other day looking through our kids’ How the Human Body Works book. She wasn’t expecting a chapter about genitalia and human reproduction.

We got it for Jacob when he was three. He loved the diagrams. The circulatory system, digestive track, respiration, nerves, muscles and especially the section about biomechanic parts like pacemakers and prosthetic limbs.

The human reproduction part is at the back of the book. We generally glossed over the mechanics and skipped straight to the stages of fetal development. The information was there, and we read through it, but not every time. After all, the immune system was much more compelling.

Almost three years ago, when Jacob was six and Claire four, we announced that they would be getting a new sibling.

They wanted to know how the baby got to be there. So we whipped out the Human Body book. We talked about ovulation, eggs traveling through fallopian tubes, meeting a sperm to form a blastocyst that develops into a zygote and implants on the uterine lining and continues to develop into an embryo and later a fetus. Then they wanted to know how the baby would get out. So we talked about the cervix, vaginal birth and c-sections.

So then Jacob asked the most pertinent question. “But how does the sperm get in there?’
“The father gives it to the mother.”
“Does it have to go in the same way the baby comes out?”
“Yes.”
“How does that work?”

I looked at him. “Do you really want to know? I can tell you now, or if you don’t want to know right now, I will be happy to tell you later.”

Jacob thought about it. We’d already been talking and looking at pictures for the better part of an hour.

“I don’t think I need to know right now.”

And so we moved on.

In church a few weeks ago, the first counselor was teaching the children about the roles of mothers and fathers as defined by the Proclamation to the World: The Family. The whole conversation made me slightly uncomfortable. I cringed internally as the children made lists of gender defined responsibilities and characteristics. But I recognized that my misgivings were my own personal hang-ups, and there was no reason to interject my qualms into a perfectly fine sharing time lesson.

They were running out of things to list when one kid said, “Mothers give birth.”

“Yes,” the counselor acknowledged, “mothers do give birth to the babies.”

“Yeah,” Jacob interjected. “But fathers give sperm!”

Sitting in the back of the room, I smiled and felt better.

***********************************************************************************

Coda: Evolution

Last week in church, that same counselor was teaching about families again, and how Adam and Eve were our first parents. Claire's hand flew up into the air.

"I'm just wondering how the story in Genesis matches up with the scientific evidence. I mean, were they monkeys or something like that?"

In the back of the room, I hid my face, muffling laughter.

"No, they were humans," she answered firmly, and then moved the discussion on.

Maybe we shouldn't watch Nova documentaries on Saturday night anymore.

Baños

2009-12-05T15:51:00.003-07:00

Clint will have a conference in Italy this March, so we're starting to plan how I can go with him for a long overdue vacation. Usually this meeting is in the midwest, but a five years ago it was held in Mexico City. My mom and sister watched the kids so I could go. What follows is an unfortunately true account of one of my adventures there. I can't wait to see what happens in Italy.

Baños

Mexico City has excellent public transportation. The Metro is clean, efficient, and cheap. For dos pesos you can go anywhere in the city. If only Mexico had a public restroom system to match.

None of the common spaces, the Zocolo, the gardens, have restrooms. The Metro and bus stations have pay restrooms. For one or two pesos, you get admittance and two squares of toilet paper. Once inside, wading through puddles, and debris, faced with a bare tank, no toilet seat, you wonder where your money has gone. None of the public pay baños have toilet seats. Are they stolen? Were they too expensive to buy in the first place?

And do not think the state described is just at the end of a long day before the janitors arrive. I paid my pesos at the second class bus station in Oaxaca City and entered the restroom at the same time as an attendant with a broom. A few minutes later, we left at the same time, with no discernible change in the room’s condition.
The many guidebooks I’d read before our trip left me entirely unprepared for the bathrooms of Mexico. But the resourceful tourist notices these things not long after leaving the airport and adjusts plans accordingly. If only it weren’t for Montezuma’s Revenge.

We were in the first class bus station, just off one of the Metro lines, when the need struck. And there were two restrooms; free and pay. Being new to the city, I had already used my small change on the metro, and chose the gratis.
It was a dismal gray room, empty but for me and the ubiquitous ineffectively sweeping janitor. I chose the only stall not clogged and overflowing and locked the door behind me. Now, it can be difficult to crap in the woods when you’re socialized from toddlerhood to use the porcelain bowl, but I have, and I can, and I felt confident in my ability to overcome socialization to do what must be done. But despite the wringing turmoil of my much distressed gut, hovering there, with my butt in midair over a truly disgusting stainless steel bowl, I was unable. Perhaps it was the sound of sweeping. Whatever the reason, I knew that I could indeed wait longer, until I got change, or to the hotel, or even until I left the country.

Thus resolved, I put myself back together, only to discover that the lock was jammed. I tried jiggling, shaking, prizing with my fingernails, all to no avail. Damn airport security! But for them I would have my trusty leatherman in a situation when it might actually be useful. I considered calling out to the janitor “Perdon, pero, la puerta esta cerrado y no puedo la abierta.” But I was too mortified at the thought of revealing my ignorance and ineptitude, so I remained silent. I would have to escape on my own. If only she would leave so that I could do it privately. But after a several interminable minutes passed, during which time I reconsidered, and rejected the thought using the toilet, I decided that I would have to act, humiliating public spectacle or not.

Under the door? Nope, only about six inches between the bottom of the door and the untouchable floor. It would have to be over. I stood on the seatless rim and looked over the stalls. The custodian, still sweeping, was at the other end of the room, looking away. Now or never. I squeezed my bag and hat under the door, hopped up on the toilet (finally serving a purpose), and hoisted myself over the door. As I retrieved my gear, I felt the janitor’s eyes on me. “La puerta no abeirta,” I fumbled. She responded with something along the lines of “Then don’t close it,” but of course that was by now obvious to both of us.

I rejoined Clint outside in the terminal. “Feeling better?” he asked. “I decided to wait.” He raised his eyebrows at that, but mercifully, said nothing.

Zelophedad's Daughters

2009-12-02T12:01:00.000-07:00

This morning the kids and I read the passage in Numbers where the daughters of the deceased Zelophedad petition Moses and Eleazar for an inheritance in front of the tent of meeting. The census of all men had been taken to determine how to distribute inheritances and these fatherless women were excluded.

This is a great story. The women were slighted, wronged by an unjust system. So they took their petition to the top. Moses asked God, and God said, “They’re right, this isn’t fair. And while we’re at it, here are the rules for passing on inheritances to the next of kin.”

I think we should follow their example. We can disagree with the status quo without rejecting the Church and the prophets. We can bring our petition to Salt Lake. And it’s possible that God will justify us, say you’re right, that policy should be changed. We do still believe in the possibility of revelation. That should give us hope for change.

Here is one example: temple wedding petition

Isaac at Maeser Park

2009-11-19T17:08:00.003-07:00

The poor little guy's coming down with a cold. He climbed halfway up the ladder of the play structure and just stayed there, surveying the world. Not stuck, not sad, just halfway up and still.

Halloween Pictures

2009-11-14T14:23:00.003-07:00

The kids had fun this year. Jacob was a dragon tamer. Claire was a vampire. Then, because we didn't get fangs, but she did have a red bendy straw, she decided to be a butterfly vampire with a proboscis. Jacob countered that she should just call herself a mosquito.

Obviously I should have had these up sooner, but I ran out of batteries. You see, the batteries in our wireless keyboard gave up the ghost, so I had to steal the ones from the camera to use the computer. Then I couldn't upload the pictures, and I never remember to buy batteries. Until now. Enjoy!

Book Signing

2009-10-29T10:54:00.004-06:00

Last month, the last Leven Thumps book was released. We drove up to West Jordan to meet the author, Obert Skye. Jacob was beside himself with excitement. Claire was pretty happy, too.

We were even able to get a book signed for Papa Clint, who introduced Jacob to the Leven Thumps series when we were visiting Texas during the summer.

My work this week, before and after

2009-09-19T23:05:00.004-06:00

Labor Day Weekend

2009-09-11T22:03:00.004-06:00

During our 5th Sunday meeting, the bishop lectured us about not regarding conference Sundays as free days when we get to do fun stuff because there's no church. So for our 3-day holiday weekend, we decided to go camping in the mountains, thus skipping a regular Sunday of church.

Because we'd been apart all summer, this was our first chance to have a complete family vacation. We loaded up our kids and gear, and drove up into the mountains.

The Unitas are high, forested mountains dotted with glacial lakes. We parked at the trailhead just past Trial Lake and hiked our gear in about a mile to Cliff Lake where we set up our base camp. It was a fairly steep climb. We hadn't yet gotten Claire's pack adjusted correctly, so her center of gravity was way too high, and Clint had to spot her so she would fall over backwards.

As we finished pitching our tents it started raining After that, the weather was beautiful. The kids enjoyed scrambling on the rocks and climbing up the cliffs. Isaac puddle-stomped like crazy, soaking though all of his pants at least twice. We had close encounters with free-ranging black cattle and bold little chipmunks. Jacob and Claire learned how to use the little orange shovel. (Does a Claire crap in the woods?)

We even built a fire one night. Clint taught Jacob and Claire about the constellations. Jacob told the creation story from Norse mythology, and not to be outdone, Claire started in on Greek mythology and the titans. All I had was "It was a cold, cold night, in December. And Brigham Young and Brigham Old sat sitting 'round the campfire..."

It was a great trip. We learned several things:

1. Everyone needs good shoes, preferably waterproof, and wool socks. (I was the only one with happy feet on that cold, wet morning after the previous day's rain.)

2. Isaac needs his own sleeping bag.

3. We need to take the kids on more practice hikes with all of their gear strapped to their backs.

4. Toothbrushes. But the hairbrush was not even missed.

5. Better clothes would be nice too--comfortable, quick-drying pants for all and good parkas for the kids.

We can't wait for our next adventure.

Quick Furniture Makeover

2009-09-01T15:58:00.003-06:00

We've needed a little nightstand for the kids' bedroom to go in between their beds. Today I found an old school desk at D.I. that I thought would just fit. I brought it home, cleaned it up, took it apart, painted it and put it back together, all before the kids got home from school. It fits perfectly!

I used spray paint that had been just sitting in the basement for the metal base and legs. I was careful to tape over the cool chrome plates at the base of the legs. I painted the desk part yellow for the base coat, then the gold on top. The gold matches the wood front edge of the desktop. The wood top I sanded and painted with the latex chalkboard paint. In a week or so, they can start coloring on it with chalk if they want. Because I already had the paint, the total expenditure for this afternoon project is $8. Good times.

Isaac is 2

2009-09-01T15:53:00.003-06:00

Happy Birthday Isaac! He had no idea why he got chocolate cake or the bowling set, but that didn't stop him from enjoying it.

First Day of School

2009-08-19T09:19:00.000-06:00

Jacob and Claire started school today.

Jacob is going to 4th grade. He is in a technology classroom, where each desk has an iMac and computer use in integrated into the curriculum. His teacher is incredibly organized, which should be great for Jacob.

Claire is in 2nd grade. Her teacher had been the music teacher. She runs a more open and flexible classroom. And Claire already knows a friend in her class from church.

And now I'm alone with Isaac. It should be fun.

Yoga

2009-08-16T07:30:00.000-06:00

As long as I can remember, I wanted to do yoga. Even growing up in a tiny Texas town, knowing nothing about yoga, I had a sense that it was something I wanted to learn about and do. I finally got my chance at the La Jolla YMCA after I had Claire. I loved it from the first class. After a year or two, I went to a 200-hour Yoga Alliance accredited yoga teacher training program. I loved that too. Then I started teaching adults and preschoolers. It was great.

When we moved to New York, instead of teaching professionally, I practiced yoga on my own, keeping strong and flexible and focused during pregnancy and the year post partem. I volunteered at our church branch, teaching first on Saturdays, and then during early morning seminary for seminary moms and other relief society sisters willing to get up. I loved seeing the women develop in strength and confidence.

Now that we've moved to Provo, I'm once again practicing on my own. I'm looking forward to teaching again. Getting a paying job would be nice, but I'm more excited about sharing yoga with those who would otherwise not be able to practice, seeing others benefit from something I love.

I'm not sure how I could have known I would like yoga, when I had only heard of it, vaguely. I'm grateful I found it, because it is part of who I am.

Sunstone

2009-08-13T21:58:00.000-06:00

Today, thanks to hours of babysitting provided by Cheryl and my sister-of-awesomeness Cait, I got to go the Sunstone Convention for the first time. I had so much fun! I enjoyed listening to the papers that were presented, I've got a whole new list of authors and books to check out, and some novel ideas to mull over.

I met several of the bloggernacle regulars whose distinctive voices I've come to recognize. I fell in with the group from Feminist Mormon Housewives and had lunch in Pioneer Park with them and the contingent from Zelophedad's Daughters. It was a pleasure to meet in person so many intelligent and articulate people who run the gamut from readers like myself to bloggers to scholars. I even found a fellow yoga practitioner from Orem. Three cheers for new friends!

I'll be home with the kids tomorrow morning, cooking and cleaning so everything will be in order when I leave them again in the afternoon. (I don't want to imagine what state the house would be in if we were gone to all the sessions 8 a.m.-10 p.m. three days in a row. Shudder.) I'm sorry to miss the morning sessions, but it's already been better than I could have hoped.

I'm collecting notes and sketches. I'm feeling more energized in my interest in church history and feminism (not necessarily related topics). I can't wait to look through the bookstore they have set up. This has been a great perk of moving back to Provo.

It's starting to fade...

2009-08-11T18:12:00.000-06:00

It looked pretty bad at first. Thank goodness red popsicle stain isn't permanent.

Rock Canyon

2009-08-04T15:18:00.001-06:00

I let the kids take charge of the camera in Rock Canyon this morning.

They had a great time.

''Squad Landing''

2009-07-30T20:33:00.000-06:00

Papa Clint (My Grandfather) has given me $100 to buy miniatures. I'll show you them now.

The black model mom might get me. The others I'm getting for
sure. The bulky one with the books is a librarian.

The one with a nasty looking cannon is the Techmarine Thunderfire cannon.
At the bottom is the assault squad.
The black one again is the assault chaplain.

Celebration

2009-07-30T10:13:00.001-06:00

Today is our 11th wedding anniversary. Since I'm in Utah, but Clint's still in New York, we can't do anything together. So I decided to celebrate by coloring the children. Why not? It's fun, out of the ordinary, and a great thing to do on a special summer day.
(Isaac and Claire colored his arms while Jacob was getting his done. I think if I hadn't put the body crayons away, he'd be completely covered by now. Which would be fine as long as he didn't touch any fabric or upholstery.)

Wood trim

2009-07-28T09:41:00.000-06:00

All of the wood trim in the upstairs part of our house has been painted white. There is white semi-gloss and then, in some places, that has been painted over with flat white, using rollers. If my painting friend Jen has taught me anything, it's that you can't paint flat over semi-gloss. And who uses rollers instead of brushes on wood trim and paneled doors?

In any case, I've been looking at our trim closely. At the very least, it would need to be repainted to be consistent. But in our bedroom at least, there are only those two layers. And the varnished wood underneath hadn't been sanded before the initial coat of paint, so it's cracking in places and peels off easily.

So I peeled it off of the inside of our transom window. After I sand and refinish it, I should look pretty good. There's a lot of trim in here. I don't think I'll get done anytime soon. But it's a nice change from working in the yard.

Off the Floor!

2009-07-27T19:24:00.000-06:00

When we moved to New York, I looked at the staircase and the narrow hallway and asked, "Can you get a queen sized bed up here?"
"Oh, yeah, of course, no problem," the landlord assured me.

After forty minutes struggling, my team of Russian movers gave up.
"You either have to take down the banister or you take the box spring, cut it in half and fold it."

Sorry shape though the banister was in, we weren't allowed to remove it. And I wasn't about to cut my box spring foundation in half. So the next time I saw the landlord, I told him that the movers had not been able to get the box spring upstairs.

"Oh, that's no problem. What you have to do is, you take the box spring, you cut it in half and fold it."

I was beginning to think everyone on Long Island was a little crazy. But as my sad little mattress sat on the floor, making my bedroom look as tacky as only a mattress on the floor can, the "cut it in half and fold it" idea became more and more appealing.

So my brother-in-law came to visit with a hand saw. We took the shrink wrap cover off the foundation so we could perform our surgery. And it turns out that our box spring had 1/2 inch metal rods going through it. Even if we cut the wood frame, there was no way we could bend the metal. And if we could bend it (and the metal grid on the top), there would be no way to get it flat again.

Our box spring foundation, of necessity stored in the garage, was ruined before we could move away. Without the box spring, we had no use for the metal bed frame, so we gave it away. I complained though a pregnancy spent sleeping on the floor. (Sleeping wasn't the problem. It was the getting up.)

Now we've moved away from New York. And again we had only a mattress on the floor of our new bedroom. Until today.

Today my sister-of-awesomeness Cait and her pickup-driving friend Jared went to SLC and picked up a Pottery Barn platform bed I found on the KSL classifieds. It's a platform bed, so no need for boxspring (although if we ever wanted to add one, we could). It's less than getting an IKEA bed, and far more sturdy. And best of all, I no longer have a mattress on the floor!

Poison Control

2009-07-21T17:08:00.000-06:00

As I was installing a chain lock on the back door to prevent Isaac from escaping, I heard a scream of shock and pain. In the laundry room, he had climbed up on the diaper pail and gotten at the oxyclean stain remover spray on top of the dryer. And Isaac had squirted it straight into his face, in his left eye.

So I grabbed him up and held the struggling little guy over the kitchen sink and sprayed water in his face, mostly the left eye, but also the right for good measure. After a few minutes he was soaked and shivering (ever try to flush a toddler's eyes for 15 minutes?) and fighting to get free. I had Claire bring a couple of bath towels. I stripped tiny tot and wrapped him in the towel and stuck him back under the water, this time with arms securely pinned to his sides.

When the fifteen minutes were finally up (with water shot in his mouth for good measure, in case he ingested any) I wrapped him up in a dry towel and called the nurse hotline, who immediately sent me on to poison control. 1-800-222-1222, in case any of you were wondering. By then Isaac was exhausted and crooning to me. But his eyes look good, no redness or swelling. (They were puffy and red when I started the water flushing treatment. At least one was. I was moving too fast to be as observant as I probably should have been.) So the lady at poison control praised my quick action and will be calling back a couple of times to check up on Isaac.

As I type this now, about 40 minutes after the first scream, he's asleep next to me, still wearing nothing but a towel. I only hope that the treatment wasn't so traumatic that he forgets that the culprit was the nasty stuff inside the spray bottle.

Our Home

2009-07-20T20:31:00.000-06:00

So here's the view of our little house from 3rd South. There used to be heart gingerbread trim on the porch and porch rails with heart cutouts. Many thanks go to my brother-in-law Brandon for demolishing those for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

You can see the young privet hedge that goes along the sidewalk. It goes around most of the property's circumference. We need to weed, dig out, and mulch the entire thing. Clint got a couple of yards done while he was here, but we still have a long way to go.

We love the front door of the house. I especially like the carved sunburst panels in the center. The sellers made the stained glass window. It needs a new coat of varnish or some kind of protective layer. And we need to get the deadbolt lock keyed so we can use it more.

Settled in

2009-07-18T08:21:00.001-06:00

We have moved to Provo and are mostly settled into our new home here. It's a cute 1904 Dutch colonial close to downtown. We can walk to BYU campus or the Provo Towne Centre mall in less than half an hour. We have a lot of work to do fixing the exterior and landscaping, but we're excited about it.

Here is the archway between the entry hall and the living room. I love the way my chairs from Texas match the wood of the arch.

The living room, as seen from the dining room. We've since hung the Dali pictures. I liked them down with the Zapotec rugs, but Isaac couldn't leave them alone.

The bookshelf fits in the dining room area. The dictionary is close for mealtime discussion reference.

Claire in the backyard, drawing the house. As you can see, we have a lot to do, but we're happy that we have so much space to work with. And the hot dry Utah air is better than the little electric clothes dryer.

You can see Claire and Isaac in the back room breakfast/artwork area. We can put up a gate so Isaac doesn't disturb messy art projects or board games. I like the cool old sink, but we need to strip and refinish it.

The opposite side of the room is my weaving area. Since this picture, I've also unpacked my yarn and other weaving/knitting supplies.

Then we have the kid's playroom upstairs. There is a desk in the corner across from the futon, so when Clint moves out at the end of August, we'll put his big computer on that for family movie watching.

And then there's the kids' bedroom. I love the spindle beds from Texas. Isaac's little metal Ikea bed extends to a twin. We are thrilled that he sleeps on it by himself all night.

So there's the brief and incomplete tour of our new home! Now that we're in, and Clint's visit is ending, we can start posting about our new life here in Utah valley.

The Lake

2009-06-24T21:27:00.000-06:00

We've had a great time swimming in the lake at the Daingerfield State Park. Isaac has embraced the water. He's tanning up nicely and his hair is bleaching out. It's almost white it's so blonde in the front now.

Jacob and Claire spend their time snorkeling through the mud and silt. Claire catches minnows in plastic bags. Jacob likes stirring up the mud into the water column and jumping off the diving pier that's about a third of the way out to the center of the lake.

It's hot enough now (upper nineties, low hundreds) that everyone wants to be in the water as much as possible. The walk back up the hill to the car is torturous. By the time we make it there, our clothes are dry and we're staggering with the heat. It's enough to make you want to jump in a lake.

Happy Father's Day!

2009-06-21T13:50:00.000-06:00

Happy Father's Day!

We love you Clint. We wish we could be with you today and every day. Every day that we do spend with you is a good day.

Jacob is holding our little Father's Day gift for you.
Isaac is planning his next attack on the cat.
Claire had to be ripped away from her drawing notebook.

Elephant Song

2009-06-15T13:32:00.000-06:00

This is our new favorite kids' song.

Isaac Flushes

2009-06-11T15:37:00.000-06:00

Daingerfield State Park

2009-06-08T16:46:00.000-06:00

We went swimming in the lake at the Daingerfield State Park today. It wasn't too hot, but it was windy. The beach ball and foam noodles kept scooting away across the water. Jacob almost lost his noodle, but some friendly teenage boys swam after it for him (Jacob could not swim fast enough to catch it.)

Claire swam out to the pier without her noodle after a couple of hours of hard swimming. Unfortunately, she lacked the strength to make it all the way back to land. She got stuck, treading desperately, about 4 yards from the pier. JoAnne's brother Chris reached her before I could and helped her out until I got there with a noodle. Thanks Chris!

Isaac did not want to get in the water at all. Maybe because it was brown and you couldn't see the bottom. He liked seeing the fish (Uncle Joseph got bitten a couple of times.) and he liked throwing things in the water (like beach balls that float quickly away). He did finally figure out how to use the inflatable jet ski I blew up for him (see video below).

It was a beautiful day. We have some spots of sunburn, all in all, we got off pretty well.
We'll go back as soon as it fades to tan.

Sunday Morning

2009-06-07T13:48:00.001-06:00

We're still waking up on New York time, so we have an extra hour in the morning before we have to leave for church. I even had time to look up windsor knot tying instructions online so I could help Jacob with his tie.

Jacob likes the pirate skull motif on his tie and his new $4 chinos.

Isaac likes the cat Kizmet.

Claire doesn't like the swing so much as she is drawn to it by some irresistible natural force.

We miss you Clint! We'll keep putting up pictures and notes for you.

Texas Food

2009-06-06T13:18:00.000-06:00

Last night we had catfish from the Reverend Hill's Bar-B-Que place. I believe it is the best catfish I have ever eaten. The green tomato relish was delicious and the onion were flavorful without being too strong. (For those of you unfamiliar with Southern cuisine, it is common to eat slices of raw onion with your supper.)
All of my kids loved the hush puppies. My favorite part is that you take these hot, crispy, deep fried fine cornbread sticks and you dip them in butter. We do not shy away from fat here.
And the fries were great! Not sure what they fried them in, but the flavor puts fast food chain fries to shame.

We've also been eating as many plums and blueberries as we can possibly handle. There are more plums falling off the tree than could ever get to. Isaac is learning to spit out the plum pits. I think he only swallowed two. :)

Old Furniture for an Old House

2009-06-04T11:37:00.001-06:00

This morning we found a couple of cool old chairs and spindle twin beds at garage sales. (I love that my mom has a big truck!)
I especially like the carving details on the two green-seated chairs. I think they will work well as living room chairs for us.
I had a dark spindle bed like these when I was little. Claire is especially excited about having one for herself.
I love well-made furniture. I would much rather buy something old that has worn well than some poorly constructed bright, new thing that will look awful in a year.

The next day we found the swiveling, rolling desk chair. It rolls well, is very solid (heavy) and quite comfortable for an unpadded wood chair.

I also put up detail pictures of the little student chair. I found the intials J.W. upside down on the back of the seat. Looking at the bottom of the seat, you can see the holes that were originally used for the woven seat. We have an old rocker that needs to have the seat and back replaced with woven tape, but it's a pretty big project. This little chair will give me a chance to practice the technique on a smaller scale before we invest in materials to restore the rocker.

Jacob would like it to be known that "old furniture for an old house" is his original quote, and all future uses of that phrase must be attributed to him.

Welcome to Texas

2009-06-02T11:15:00.001-06:00

We're enjoying our visit to Texas. This morning we went out to Daingerfield State Park. Jacob and Claire walked around the lake path with Mimi and Cookie (the short-legged jack russell terrier) while Isaac and I followed at a much slower pace.

Not only does Isaac have short little legs, but he is very engaged in his surroundings. We had to stop at every little puddle of sand so he could trail his fingers through it. And then there were sticks. And bugs. And blackberries! Isaac was very excited about picking the berries himself. After eating one red one, he was careful to only pluck off the black berries.

Since we've been here, he's gotten to eat blackberries, blueberries, mulberries and plums pulled straight off the plants and warm from the sun. The only downside is that mosquitos have gotten to eat him (and me and Claire).

Good-Bye New York

2009-05-31T13:33:00.000-06:00

On our last Saturday in New York, we took one last trip to the city. We spent the day in the Metropolitan Museum of Art and Central Park. We only took about 10 pictures the entire day because Isaac is now a willful little handful. It was all we could do to keep track of him. We even had to resort to the baby leash. Thank goodness you don't have to have pictures to remember that it was a good day.

Georgie Porgie, pudding, pie...

2009-05-19T15:11:00.000-06:00

I just tried a new pudding recipe that not only tastes good, but that my sweet lactose intolerant husband can eat without suffering a subsequent evening of agony.
Mexican Chocolate Tofu Pudding
Don't let the idea of tofu put you off. It doesn't taste like tofu and it doesn't taste like fake pudding. It's good in its own right. Try it. You'll like it.

Email Account Filters

2009-05-05T11:46:00.000-06:00

What follows is an email Jacob sent me from his new email account. He would appreciate additional suggestions.

filters

Monday, May 4, 2009 2:59 PM

From:

"Jacob"

To:

"Whipple Rachel"

I set up some filters so don't send email with ''crap'' and ''dam''.
send me some swears to make filters thanks

One more from Montauk

2009-05-03T18:53:00.000-06:00

This is the funniest accidental shot we got. Who knew Jacob could fit on the top of my hat?

Montauk

2009-05-02T20:45:00.000-06:00

Today we drove out to the eastern end of Long Island. Traffic was slow through the Hamptons, but that gave us more time to admire the Dutch windmills and sing along to Johnny Cash. (The kids' favorite is either Ring of Fire or A Boy Named Sue.)

We finally got out to Montauk Point. We didn't go up in the lighthouse

(children small enough to be carried are not allowed), but we did walk along the beach and through the nature trails.

Clint and I think the Surfcaster in charge of spell checking must feel like a dope.

Claire collected shells.

Jacob found fish.

Isaac loved playing with sticks, throwing rocks and digging in the sand.

Clint liked watch the cormorants out on the ocean.

I enjoyed the rocks. The glacial till has everything in it.

It was a great day.

Fairy House

2009-04-29T05:10:00.001-06:00

The kids took advantage of a little sink hole in the backyard to build a fairy house.

We're glad he's better

2009-04-29T05:03:00.000-06:00

Last week Isaac was in the hospital for fever and dehydration. It was one of the longest, most draining weeks of my life, and Isaac wasn't even that sick. Once he was thoroughly rehydrated (thank goodness for IVs) and his fever was abating, he spent hours pushing this little pink and purple car up and down the hall of the children's ward. Clint took a few pictures before we came home.

Current Projects

2009-04-16T09:19:00.000-06:00

The science fair is today. I know that one of the handouts they brought home earlier had the word "optional" on it, so given the crazy traveling, house hunting, packing and move preparation, we quietly decided to opt out. Oh, no, no. Last night the kids informed us that participation is not optional, and we needed something. Blargh!
Claire's experiment tested the rate at which food coloring dissolves in different temperatures of water. Jacob tested whether or not the length of string on a tin can phone affects the sound quality. Both wanted to do the 2-liter vortex we saw at the Eyring Science Center at BYU, but it was too messy and our 1-liter bottles were not quite big enough.
The stores in town were out of 3-part display boards, so they used colored posterboard instead. Happily, they wrote everything themselves, with only a little prodding to stay on task. I have no idea how their projects compare to other kids, but they enjoyed it.

The other project we've been working on is our new kid's desk. We found it in the trash on the side of the road. It had been painted flat mint green. So we cleaned it up, painted it with the shabby chic distressed technique (not Clint's favorite) and painted a chalkboard surface on top. We may even paint a chess board on the top after the chalkboard paint has had time to set up good.

(I can't find my camera cable at the moment. Will post pix later.)
4/29/09
I found the cable!
And it turns out that the distressed finish is perfect with the chalk. Isaac colors the entire desks, not just the top, but the chalk blends in with the finish.

How the kids see me

2009-04-06T12:46:00.000-06:00

Natalie did this survey with her kids. I thought it was cute, so I decided to try it out on my little guys. Isaac, due to a lack of verbal ability, was excused from participation.

Jacob's answers are in green.
Claire's answers are in blue.

1. What is something your mom always says to you?
"I would never!"
Whenever Jacob accuses me of something that I've just done to him, like tickling, or flipping him upside down, I say "I would never." This used to upset him terribly until he learned to reply "You just did!" Now he enjoys the repartee greatly.
Dung beetle.
(Really?)

2. What makes mom happy?
When I clean the room without being asked. (That would make me happy ;)
Hugs and kisses.

3. What makes mom sad?
When she has to repeat herself. (Usually about getting the room clean...)
When we don't clean up our room quick.

4. How does your mom make you laugh?
Tickles me a lot!
Letting us watch funny shows, like Bugs Bunny.

5. What was your mom like as a child?
I don't remember. (True. He doesn't remember.)
I 'on't know.

6. How old is your mom?
Is it 31? Is it 30?
Thirty something? (I turned 30 at the end of last year.)

7. How tall is your mom?
Is it 5'2" or what?
Don't know. Medium. (5'4". I can wear petite clothes and regular clothes! Still not as good as making it up to 5'6", but that's just not going to happen for me.)

8. What is her favorite thing to do?
I don't know. I know you like to do things, but I don't know what your favorite one is, so I'm not taking any chances.
Torture Jacob. (Apparently the interrogation of was a form of Jacob torture.)

9. What does your mom do when you're not around?
She goes on walks with Isaac, she watches some movies without me, she takes care of the house.
I have no idea!

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
(Shrugs shoulders.) No idea.
Uhh...torturing her children.
(That's terrible.) Huh, huh, huh. (And yet I continued to questions, so maybe she's right.)

11. What is your mom really good at?
Making homemade food. (Glad he thinks so.)
Folding clothes. (I've certainly spent enough hours at it. Thinking of which, Claire needs to put away her folded clothes.)

12. What is your mom not good at?
She can't really recall pokemon data that well. (I'm okay with that.)
She's good at everything. (Good answer Claire!)

13. What does your mom do for a job?
She's a housekeeper. (Close, but not quite. Housewives don't get paid.)
Same as Jacob's [answer].

14. What is your mom's favorite food?
What is your favorite food? That's not an answer! I'm asking! Aargh! (Jacob still doesn't know.)
Mushrooms. Artichoke hearts. Thai food. (Claire actually took time to think about an answer. They hate that we include mushrooms in stir fries and pasta sauces. We continue to torture them.)

15. What makes you proud of your mom?
No idea. I can't really explain.
She's my mom.

16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
Hmmm. (Giggles. Refuses to answer.)
Why are you asking that question?
I didn't make these up. They were just in the list.
(Claire flops on me. She does not have an answer.)

17. What do you and your mom do together?
Snuggle.
A lot of stuff. Playing.

18. How are you and your mom the same?
We both have green eyes.
We're in the same family.

19. How are you and your mom different?
I like pokemon and she doesn't.
We're not the same people.

20. How do you know your mom loves you?
She tells me all the time.
She gives hugs and kisses to me a lot.

21. What does your mom like most about your dad?
(Shrugs shoulders.)
He's her husband.
(I think the lack of insight here is they just take both of their parents for granted. Of course we like each other.)

22. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?
I don't know.
The grocery store I guess. Fairway.

23. What does mom love best about you?
That's a question I can't answer.
I'm her daughter.

There your have it. Child torture over.
I love both of you. I'm so glad you are my little children.

Pine Wood Derby

2009-04-01T19:52:00.000-06:00

Tonight the Boy Scouts had their Pine Wood Derby. Jacob's car was inspired by the Pokemon Giratina (thus the model magic tentacles). He especially like the flashing light on the top. With a dollar coin taped to the bottom, his car raced pretty well.

Posted despite Jacob's protests

2009-03-23T16:36:00.000-06:00

Jacob ripped off a scab on his elbow. He asked Dad if he should wash it off with soap and water. Dad said, "It wouldn't hurt." Jacob, scrubbing his elbow, said, "Believe it or not, it does hurt."

Jacob's Sacrament Meeting Talk

2009-03-22T14:37:00.001-06:00

Click on the images to see versions large enough to read.

I loved this talk. Jacob wrote it entirely on his own. We, perhaps foolishly, did not review it before he spoke. My favorite part is "we don't know what his real job is." I wish I had a video of this little talk. It was great.

Claire's Sacrament Meeting Talk

2009-03-22T14:26:00.001-06:00

Claire prepared her talk entirely on her own, mostly because Clint and I also had talks and lessons to prepare. So she read what she had written and then the list of the original apostles. Although she stumbled over some of the names, she spoke in a loud, clear voice.

There was lots of sighing and adjusting of the microphone.

The best part was at the end, when Claire finished reading her passage out of Luke.
"Mom," she stage whispered, turning her head away from the microphone. "When does this end?"
"It ends when you end it."
Claire scrunched her brow at me.
"You can stop now."
"In the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

Rachel's Sarament Meeting Talk

2009-03-21T17:26:00.000-06:00

Warning: Unusually long post.

What is a prophet?

I’ve always liked the Old Testament style prophets.
A voice crying in the wilderness, outside of the establishment of society, government and religion. Crying repentance. We must change or be destroyed, not by supernatural action, but as the natural consequences of our actions.

Elijah, Elisha, Isaiah, Jeremiah
Repent and remember the Lord. Abandon these false gods you have been wasting your time and energy with.
Depart ye, depart ye, go ye out from thence, touch no unclean thing; go ye out of the midst of her; be ye clean, that bear the vessels of the Lord. (Isaiah 52:11)

The Old Testament type prophet shows up in the Book of Mormon also—Abinadi, Samuel the Lamanite. They exist only to come and deliver their message. They are protected until they have spoken their piece, discharged the assignment given them by God. Then they exit the narrative, killed or gone, back to the wilderness from whence they came.

There are OT style prophets active in the world today. My favorite is the poet farmer Wendell Berry, whose poems, essays, and novels have cried in the modern isolated wilderness of American consumerism. He has influenced a wide range of people, from environmental activists and nature writers. Barbara Kingsolver, Michael Pollan (the current Aaron of the food movement), even Mark Bittman from the New York Times. As influential as he is, in the end, almost everyone dismisses the totality of his vision as too idealistic, too impractical. And so he remains an outsider, a voice crying in the wilderness.

There have been so many prophets, inspired people who have changed the world, who have incited repentance and revolution, given guidance, hope and comfort as humanity slogs through this veil of tears.
In 2nd Nephi the Lord says:
Know ye not that there are more nations than one? Knew ye not that I, the lord your God, have created all men, and that I remember those who are upon the isles of the sea; and that I rule in the heavens above and in the earth beneath; an I bring froth my word unto the children of men, yea, even upon all the nations of the earth?...Wherefore I speak the same words unto one nation like unto another…Wherefore, because that ye have a Bible ye need not suppose that it contains all my words; neither need ye suppose hat I have not caused more to be written..(2 Ne 29:7-8, 10)

And in Alma we have:
For behold, the Lord doth grant unto all nations, of their own nation and tongue, to teach his word, yea, in wisdom, all that he seeth fit that they should have; therefore we see that the Lord doth counsel in wisdom, according to that which is just and true. (Alma 29:8)

Back to 2nd Nephi:
For the Lord God giveth light unto the understanding; for he speaketh unto men according to their language, unto their understanding. (2 Ne 31:3)

And Joseph Smith, Jr., the founding prophet of the restoration of our church said:
The first and fundamental principle of our holy religion is, that we believe that we have a right to embrace all, and every item of truth, without limitation…when that truth is clearly demonstrated to our minds, and we have the highest degree of evidence of the same. (Letter to Isaac Galland, Mar. 22, 1839, Liberty Jail, published in Times and Seasons, Feb 1840. TotPotCJS, pge 264)

By the light of these revealed truths, I feel confident in accepting that inspired leaders of other religious traditions are also prophets, and speak the word of God to their peoples at their times. Moses, the Buddha, Mohammed, grace be upon him, Krishna. They in turn, recognize Jesus as a great teacher and prophet. They and Joseph Smith, too, are all radical religious leaders, the establishers of new religious traditions. And inasmuch as they are all divinely inspired prophets, we can learn from them, use their insight to their people to augment our faith in God and the restored gospel today.

One can even make the argument that other radical social leaders have been prophets: Gandhi, Martin Luther, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Brigham Young.

Brigham Young, of course, was a very different sort of prophet than Joseph Smith. Joseph Smith was a charismatic, a visionary man. People were drawn to him, and loved him and were devastated at his death. Brigham Young gathered up the broken saints and led them on the exodus across the plains to the Great Salt Lake. He led with authority and willpower.

But enough of prophets in the world at large, prophets in general, even if they are my favorites in particular.

*********
Within our church, we hold two different, but not mutually exclusive definitions of what it is to be a prophet. It is related intimately to the fact that we believe in both personal revelation and that the president of our church has authority to receive revelation for the entire world.

A prophecy consists of divinely inspired words or writings, which a person receives through revelation from the Holy Ghost. The testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy (Rev. 19: 10). A prophecy may pertain to the past, present, or future. When a person prophesies, he speaks or writes that which God wants him to know, for his own good or the good of others. Individuals may receive prophecy or revelation for their own lives. (lds.org)

We have several examples of lay people, if you will, prophesying in the scriptures:
In Revelation:
(Revelation 19:10)
I am thy fellowservant, and of thy brethren that have the testimony of Jesus: worship God: for the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy.

And Joel:
Joel, Chapter 2
28 ¶ And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions:

And in the beginning of the Old Testament:
Numbers 11
23 And the Lord said unto Moses, Is the Lord’s hand waxed short? thou shalt see now whether my word shall come to pass unto thee or not.
24 ¶ And Moses went out, and told the people the words of the Lord, and gathered the seventy men of the elders of the people, and set them round about the tabernacle.
25 And the Lord came down in a cloud, and spake unto him, and took of the spirit that was upon him, and gave it unto the seventy elders: and it came to pass, that, when the spirit rested upon them, they prophesied, and did not cease.
26 But there remained two of the men in the camp, the name of the one was Eldad, and the name of the other Medad: and the spirit rested upon them; and they were of them that were written, but went not out unto the tabernacle: and they prophesied in the camp.
27 And there ran a young man, and told Moses, and said, Eldad and Medad do prophesy in the camp.
28 And Joshua the son of Nun, the servant of Moses, one of his young men, answered and said, My lord Moses, forbid them.
29 And Moses said unto him, Enviest thou for my sake? would God that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit upon them!
[Due to time constraints, I summarized this passage from Numbers]
(I love this exclamation from Moses, the fugitive murderer, turned reluctant prophet and leader of the Israelite people during the Exodus and the purgatory of forty years wandering in the wilderness. “Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets” and Moses own burden lessened.)

In our church, the term prophet indicates many roles.

The twelve apostles and the members of the presidency of the church are ordained as prophets, seers and revelators at each semi-annual general conference of the church. As such, they have authority to receive revelation for the church. They counsel us in conference talks, and occasionally issue a proclamation.

President Thomas S. Monson, as the current head of the church, has the role of the Lord’s prophet in these latter days. He has the authority to speak, “thus saith the Lord”, just as Joseph Smith did at the time of the Restoration. In practice, our recent prophets act as stewards of Christ’s church, like a CEO.

They generally do not make sweeping predictions of specific future events. (I almost think if they did they would be dismissed as a Cassandra, that daughter of Priam who predicted the future accurately, but was doomed to have no one believe her.)

The Bible Dictionary says a prophet is a forthteller, not a foreteller.

So we make a distinction between prophecy of the lay members of the church, prophecy as a gift of the spirit and prophecy from the office of Prophet.

I see this as analogous to the way we all of us are teachers throughout our lives, but only some of us are called officially to be teachers, for certain periods of time.

As a side note, we have prophetesses. Women prophets.
Prophetess (definition from lds.org, guide to the scriptures)
A woman who has received a testimony of Jesus and enjoys the spirit of revelation. A prophetess does not hold the priesthood or its keys. Though only a few women in the scriptures are called prophetesses, many prophesied, such as Rebekah, Hannah, Elisabeth, and Mary.
Miriam was called a prophetess, Ex. 15: 20. Deborah was called a prophetess, Judg. 4: 4. Huldah was called a prophetess, 2 Kgs. 22: 14 (2 Chr. 34: 22). Anna was called a prophetess, Luke 2: 36.
[This prophetess section was also summarized in the interest of time.]

We call can experience the gift of prophesy, singly or in groups, like a great revival of the Pentecostal. As we all are struck by the spirit and speak that truth, we are prophet and prophetess. But our restored church has order. We don’t all speak at once in a babble of of incomprehensible gobbledegook. We speak and listen in turn, presided over in order and authority, for the Lord’s house is a house of order. And at the head of His church here on earth is His chief steward, the Prophet with a capital P, the president and leader of the church.

I personally like a more expansive definition of prophet. We have a prophet at the head of church, who can receive continuous revelation for the church. But I enjoy seeing obscure prophets, non-religious prophets, toiling away, trying to shake us out of our apathy and selfish selfcenteredness, to make this world a better place. I love the idea, that when we are receiving revelation from God, in those soul-shaking moments of undeniable spiritual clarity, that in a small way, we are given the gift of prophecy, you a prophet, and I a prophetess.

St. Patrick's Day

2009-03-18T08:04:00.000-06:00

We a had a great St. Patrick's Day yesterday. Jacob and Claire put on green straight away (and just hoped everyone else had forgotten). What green-wearing kid doesn't love a holiday that sanctions pinching?

For dinner I made a whole wheat Irish soda bread, corned beef with cabbage, carrots and potatoes, and green potatoes from Liguria (courtesy Mark Bittman's Minimalist video on the New York Times). It was all new to me, and thankfully, turned out surprisingly well. Even the cabbage was good, and let me tell you, I had some strong reservations about that. We may even add cabbage to our family standard fare.

Paint Party!

2009-03-18T07:48:00.000-06:00

Every once in a while, I find cheap t-shirts and we have a painting party.

This time the kids invited over a few of their friends.

Claire invited Grace and Julie. Jacob's buddy Chris from up the block came too.

Jacob's already worn his shirt to school--he's very excited about having a custom Pokemon shirt.

As for the others, the point is the painting, the shirt is but a canvas. If they choose to wear the shirts, that's just bonus.

Hammock

2009-03-18T07:37:00.000-06:00

Claire has decided that she wants to sleep in a hammock. I'm not sure where she learned to tie the knots, but they seem to be effective. It's been two weeks, and she's not tired of it yet.

On a side note, it does give her pretty incredible bedhead.

Snow Day!

2009-03-02T15:47:00.000-07:00

Today school was canceled for NYC for the first time in over 5 years. They got 8 inches of snow. Here on Long Island, we were closer to a foot. It's the most snow we've gotten since we moved here.

It made for a great day. The kids stayed home and helped with spring cleaning. They consider the snow a birthday present from Mother Nature. I shoveled the front steps and walk, and waved to everybody else on the block shoveling their front steps and walks. After the roads were well cleared, Clint shoveled out the car and went on in the the greenhouses and lab. But it was nice to have him working at home this morning.

I will admit, I was rather put out when I heard the weather predictions for this mess. A couple of 50 degree days, and I'm a wuss. But nor'easter gave our family a great day together, and I can't complain about that. Besides, spring can't be too far away.

9 at Last!

2009-03-01T17:44:00.000-07:00

Today Jacob turned 9 years old. After a long day at church, we came home and made pizza and a checkerboard cake with vanilla custard filling and chocolate whipped cream frosting. We even had ice cream! (A rarity in partially-lactose-intolerant household.)

Oppertunitys of a worthy boy

2009-02-28T19:17:00.000-07:00

Jacob’s Primary talk
Written February 28, 2009
Delivered March 1, 2009

Oppertunitys of a worthy boy.

First of all what I think to be worthy
is to obey the Word of Wisdom, ten
commandmets, to keek promises and
be loving. Any person in the mormon
church can be batized at the age
of 8 or older. When someone is babtized
they make a covenent to become a
member of the mormen church and
to repent of their sins. In the forth
article of faith it says that we have
to repent of are sins before getting babtized.
I think that means if we don’t repent
and feel bad far are sins it’s pointless
to get babtized. If a boy is worthy
at twelve years of age he will receive
the ironic presthood. He now has the
power to babtize, pass the sacrament,
and bless the sacrament. When a boy
who has been babtized and has
the ironic preestod turns eighteen
receive the mechezidic presthood.
He can now heal the sick, and
give blessings. Finaly when he turns
19, he will go on a mission to an area
to teach the people and hopefully baptize
into the church. I say these things in
the name of Jesus Christ amen.

American Museum of Natural History

2009-02-20T08:01:00.000-07:00

To celebrate Jacob and Claire's birthdays this year, we took a trip to the city on President's Day. They choose to go to the Natural History Museum and Central Park.

I loved the architectural details throughout the building. Floors, ceilings, banisters and braziers were all great.

The museum is huge! We walked through the Pacific Northwest peoples, Origin of Man, Meteorites, Minerals, and Gems, a couple of the Dinosaur halls, North American Mammals, several rooms, including the Rotunda, dedicated to Teddy Roosevelt.

After an afternoon at the museum, we walked through Central Park. Dusk was falling, as was the temperature, so we didn't linger. We continued on to see the lights of Times Square at night. By then it was cold (see Claire) and they were tired (see Jacob).

Jacob would like it to be known that he and Claire have now opened their own museum of dinosaurs. Tickets are twenty-five cents. There is also a gift shop. Your patronage is appreciated.

7 Years of Claire

2009-02-17T20:40:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was Claire's 7th birthday. We love you!

The End of Valentines

2009-02-11T07:25:00.000-07:00

This year I decided to quit trying to observe Valentine's Day. It's a huge relief.

I have had one really great Valentine's Day in my life. It was right after Clint and I got together. He picked me up for a weekend in Salt Lake. He drove his '80 yellow Datsun truck (that I had to push to start because I didn't know how to pop a clutch), wore his soft yellow shirt, and gave me a pot of daffodils. I just happened to wear a pale yellow sweater. We ate a bag of Dove Promise chocolates-I still have one in a small frame--"No truer friend than your Valentine". It was a bright, sunny start to what's been a wonderful eleven years.

Of course, since then most Februarys have found us pregnant, or with infants and small children, and distinctly short of disposable income. We tried to do things the first few years, but nothing could be a great as that first Valentine's, charged as it was with all the excitement of new found love.
So why should we waste a day that ostensibly celebrates love and affection by being disappointed that our observances failed to reach the artificial standards set by consumerist society?

On our last anniversary, we celebrated by consciously recognizing that that day was our anniversary with smiles and hugs and being happy and grateful the entire day that we'd been able to be married for ten years. It was great.

(On a side note, one year, #4 or 5, we completely forgot our anniversary. Both of us. The next day, when I saw a calender and realized that our anniversary had passed without remark, I was a little disappointed. It was not that we had forgotten, but that we could forget.)

So Valentine's this year will be like our anniversary. Maybe we'll even listen to Ben Harper's "Waiting on an Angel" and tell the kids how once, a long time ago, Dad actually danced with Mom.

Clint in Mexico

2009-02-05T14:49:00.000-07:00

Clint was gone for the last half of January to Puerto Vallarta where he had his winter corn field. He came home for a day to do laundry and took off again for a conference at UC Riverside. He is now having difficulty adjusting to the snowy winter weather the rest of us never got to leave.

On the plus side, he did bring us a cool tortilla press.

We get to have him with us until the Maize Meeting in March. Welcome home--we're glad you're back.

(Slightly) Less Clutter Everywhere

2009-01-14T07:49:00.000-07:00

So here are the closet after pictures.
(For before shot scroll down to the Clutter, Clutter Everywhere post.)

I should probably jettison more, but I'll let the Lupus Foundation pick up what I have first; even after taking a load to the thrift shop, and throwing out a ton of rubbish, the amount I have on the porch to donate is more that what I could fit in my car.

An unexpected complication is that Isaac can now get at everything on that bottom shelf. The photo albums should be pretty safe, but those puzzles will be a nightmare if he decides to pry open the boxes.

New Family Pictures

2009-01-07T11:05:00.000-07:00

Photo credit goes to Josh Wilcox. You're awesome!

Clutter, Clutter, Everywhere

2009-01-06T16:28:00.000-07:00

Before our Christmas travels, I visited the home of a friend who practices Feng Shui. The first thing to do: get rid of clutter.

I love it! Getting rid of things feels exhilarating, almost like a runner's high. I feel light, as though I’ve broken free of weights. Each thing I’ve avoided dealing with is a decision deferred, and as such, carries a psychic burden along with its physical presence.

As I fill up bags and boxes of things to recycle and give away, I'm a little ashamed at how much junk I have. I've been carrying all this around with me--for what?

We keep things for different reasons. Maybe we paid a lot for something, and even if we don't need it anymore, the remembered price won't let us let go. Or perhaps it was a gift. Or maybe we think that one day in the unforeseeable future it may be useful, and won't we be glad we saved it?

I've used only a few of things that I've saved and lugged across the country with me.

I know exactly why I have so much junk. I procrastinate. When the kids outgrow clothes or toys, I just push then aside, in the closet or corner, to deal with later. Everyplace fills up with a jumbled mess of once useful things that slowly devolve into worthless junk. All these things calcify around me, binding me. It's easy to look around and think "I wish I had something better, something more, something else". But this letting go has helped me see how much overabundance I have.

As I clear away the clutter, I can see that I already have everything I need.

Let It Snow

2008-12-08T09:53:00.001-07:00

Yesterday morning we woke up to an inch or two or snow. Most transformations in nature are gradual--the slow greening in spring giving way to the flowers and fecundity of summer. The leaves tinging orange and red until all the woods are ablaze in the color of fall, only to drop off slowly until you realize the trees are bare and bleak, bearing down for winter.

But snow is different. It is an instant transformation. A new coat of paint for the world. And when you see it for the first time, that first glance out of the frosty window revealing the soft deep blue sky, with everything below covered in a clean, white blanket, that is magical.

I take it in quietly, and slip back into bed.

Claire, on the other hand, was dancing and yelling and falling over herself trying to find the snow pants and boots. The kids all had fun out there, even Isaac in the snow for the first time.

It was a perfect snow. The streets and walks melted fast, no ice. Today yesterday's snow is patchy on the lawn and crunches with ice where it melted and refroze. It will gradually melt and sublimate away. And I'll wait for the next morning that we wake up to a world made perfect for the moment by snow.

For your consideration...

2008-11-27T19:53:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago we went to a quinciera for a friend in our congregation. Jacob and Claire loved the dancing. Unfortunately, Clint was out of town, and I was only able to snatch a few moments of video while chasing Isaac around. The quality is pretty low, so you can't see the dead serious expressions on their faces, but I'm sure you can imagine :)

Happy Thanksgiving

2008-11-27T19:24:00.000-07:00

It's Clint's favorite holiday come again! We spend the day in the kitchen, working together, and then we eat. And then we eat leftovers. And leftovers the next day too! And maybe even the day after that.

Clint cooks the turkey, dressing and gravy. I take care of the side dishes, rolls and pies. It makes for a nice division of labor.

As much as it's nice to share a meal with friends or extended family, we like our own cooking and our own company. Next year we can be more sociable in our thanks.

Isaac, by the way, loved his first real turkey encounter. Bread soaking in drippings, gravy, shredded breast meat, and as you can see, tasty wing tips. It was great.

Twilight

2008-11-24T08:07:00.000-07:00

So Claire and I went to see Twilight at the Saturday morning discount matinee. Claire, not quite 7, is about six years shy of target audience. She has not read the books. But she's seen me reading them, and we've talked about them.

Claire came so because it was a girl's day out. Other than High School Musical, which I'm not spending any money on, I can't think of many high school movies I'd let her to see. (Back to the Future or The Goonies would work, but they're pretty tame by current standards.) She hid under my coat for the scary parts (the worst were some of the previews), but overall seemed to enjoy the movie. Mostly she enjoyed getting to go to the movies with me--this is only the 3rd movie she's gone to since we moved to NY.

I enjoyed it mostly for the same reason. We met a friend from church, ran into a couple of more once we got there. It was fun to go out for this shared experience based on a book we had all read. And I didn't have the baby attached to me! Huzzah! (It would not have been fun to see it with Clint. I would have been judging the movie through his eyes the whole time and cringing--like watching Harold and Maude with your grandmother. He probably will watch it when it comes out on video--it's filmed in St. Helens and Astoria, Oregon, close to where he grew up.)

As for the movie itself, it was better that I was expecting it to be. Not as good as the first Lord of the Rings, but better than the Harry Potters (which never felt like complete works that can stand on their own independent of the books. Even the best of those, the 3rd, was confusing for my husband who hadn't, and likely won't ever, read the book.) The story was nicely tightened for the screen adaptation. My personal favorite scene from the book was absent (blood typing), but the film flowed smoothly without it.

I actually liked the movie better than I liked the book on the first reading. (Note-I've only read it twice, but it was better with the perspective gained from reading the entire series. That and I could skip through the repetitive self-deprecation and kissing and marble skin and velvet voices.) The movie eliminated the the whiny, self-conscious teen second-guessing that made Bella such an annoying (if realistic) character, making her much more decisive. The film didn't give compelling reasons for her to fall for Edward--she just announced that she was in one of the voice-overs. But then again, I didn't think Edward was all that attractive--maybe if I had, that would have been enough. The best realized characters were the dad and Alice.

All in all, not a bad addition to the chick flick category. It should fit neatly between Stardust and While You Were Sleeping.

Formula Rant

2008-11-13T12:12:00.000-07:00

I recently got a flyer from the formula company Similac in the mail. It was informing me that most toddler food –cow’s milk, chicken nuggets, macaroni and cheese, applesauce—is deficient in essential vitamins and nutrients. Because these little finicky eaters growing so rapidly, it is imperative that they ingest adequate nutrition. Their solution? A new powered formula you can buy for toddlers!

Every parent who feeds their infant formula bemoans the exorbitant cost. But they pay it, sometimes double, for brand name formulas, because they have been scared into thinking they must. Each new “health claim” serves to further reinforce the companies’ case to the parents that this product is crucial to their child’s health and future.

And then is there is another kind of scare. The widespread contamination of China’s milk supply revealed the vulnerability of a nation dependent on unscrupulous companies for it’s children sustenance. Company officials were deliberately adding melamine to watered-down milk so it would appear to have acceptable levels of protein. The fact that it causes kidney failure and death didn’t bother those who added to milk for children and infant formula any more than it did those who used it to bump up testable protein levels in pet food. I hope there is a special circle of hell for those who put their personal profits ahead of the lives of all the innocent children of their nation.

This second scare reinforces the sense that consumer parents have that in order to assure their babies have the best, safest food, they must buy the most expensive, name brands. Who knows where those half-price generic formulas are made?

All of this plays into the relief parents feel when their child reaches the magical age of one, when pediatricians tell us we can safely feed them cow’s milk. Household budgets take a breather.

Until now.

Because formula companies naturally want to make more money. The only way to do that thus far has been to introduce formula into markets where breastfeeding had been the societal norm. Never mind that many of these places are in underdeveloped nations without adequate supply of fresh, uncontaminated water, so that even if the formula is heavily subsidized or donated, it may still pose a risk to the infants who consume it.

The brilliance of the formula for toddlers is that it expands the already existent formula-sipping base by extending the length of time that the product must be consumed to the exclusion of other similar products.

I think about my own kids and the choices we’ve made with them. I chose the breastfeed exclusively. No formula. Because we had already made the decision to accept the financial sacrifices our culture demands of a single income family, breastfeeding was convenient and appropriate for our budget. And I felt good about it—according to everything I read, human milk is the best food for human infants.

My first I weaned at fourteen months because I didn’t want to be pregnant and nursing at the same time. He was in no way ready. He ended up drinking tons of milk and was very reluctant to eat solid food. I constantly worried about the potential negative health effects of this predominantly liquid diet. (Evidently I’m not alone, and the formula companies know it.)

The second I nursed until twenty-two months. I was far less stressed about her diet because she was still getting the breast milk, in addition to her solids, some cows milk, and dilute juice. The World Health Organization actually recommends breastfeeding until the age of two.

Now we’re on Number Three. He is fourteen months old, and absolutely refuses to drink cows milk. And since Similac has informed me of how deficient that is for him, I feel even better about continuing to nurse him until he approaches his second birthday. Bet they didn’t see that one coming.

We survived Halloween

2008-11-07T07:28:00.000-07:00

Halloween is over. Jacob was a forest magician. He designed his costume himself. Claire, once a forest fairy princess, decided she was a forest magician girl. With wings. She might like watching the Dark Crystal now. Isaac, as all his siblings before him, was Bugs Bunny. Like all his siblings before him, he freaked out whenever we put the hood up. We got that costume when Jacob was a baby, before I started sewing in earnest.

Last night I had the kids go through the massive bowl of candy they collected last week. Out of the six pounds left, they were told they can keep one. We learned that dum dums weigh less than almost everything else. They even rejected most of the chocolate because it was so heavy. (Of course, most of the chocolate had already been eaten :)

With the candy gone, costumes washed and put back in dress up boxes, the holiday is officially over.

Time to start working on Christmas gifts.

Book of Mormon Censorship

2008-10-30T09:01:00.001-06:00

We finally finished reading the Book of Mormon together as a family. We started when President Hinkley gave the challenge, what? two years ago now? We've enjoyed reading together for the most part, in the morning, before school, during breakfast.

But this week, as we finished Moroni, I did something I've never done before: I deliberately censored the Book of Mormon. Specifically, Moroni 9:8-10. Prisoner of war atrocities and forced cannibalism.

Now, I'm perfectly okay reading Beowulf, with all it's gruesome bloodiness to my kids (they enjoyed it). We read the Odyssey, with cyclops crunching down on the ship's crew like tastly little morsel of popcorn chicken. So why didn't I want to read that passage in the Moroni to my kids that morning?

Leaves

2008-10-25T13:15:00.001-06:00

It's autumn. What could be better?

School Picture Day

2008-10-25T13:01:00.000-06:00

Instead of supporting our PTA and buying the exorbitantly priced Lifetouch school pictures (which inevitably have the strangest facial expressions my children have ever conjured, along with strange hair comb-over adjustments made by well meaning teachers) I took my own pictures of the children before they left for school on picture day. Of course, that just means they have more opportunities to make bizarre faces...

Obatma

2008-10-17T10:43:00.000-06:00

http://www.weeklyworldnews.com/election-08/obatma/

Brilliant. Simply brilliant.

Convenience is not a Virtue

2008-10-17T07:45:00.000-06:00

Whenever we settle for the convenient choice, we pay a higher price for less value.

Two examples:

Fast food.

Costs more per serving than an actual, from scratch home cooked meal.
Far less nutritional value, much higher load of empty calories, fat, and sodium.
Social value of eating a meal together is diminished.
Lose opportunity to work together to prepare, partake and clean up.

Disposable diapers.

Far more expensive, even when costs of water, detergent, and wear on washing machine are taken into consideration. (Even when we had to use a laundrymat, it was less to pay to wash diapers than it would have been to buy disposables.)
Ever smell the inside of a diaper genie? With cloth, waste is flushed away pretty quickly. (Even poop in disposable diapers is supposed to be flushed--read the package if you don't believe me. But who does that? It wouldn't be convenient.)
Once you have a supply of cloth diapers, you don't have to buy anymore. No more monthly trips to a big box store for something that you intend to throw away. Independence.
Generally earlier potty training. I'm certainly more motivated--after all, it's inconvenient to scrub those diapers.

Obviously, there are far more examples (and arguments in the ones that I did list). The main point is that whatever we do, we should do well. We should take pride in our work. If we settle for something out of convenience, we're cheating. And on some level, we will feel some level of uneasy dissatisfaction, even if we can't quite pinpoint the cause.

Food Values

2008-10-15T07:33:00.000-06:00

We're big fans of Michael Pollan here. Each time I read one of his books, or others in the food politics genre (Fast Food Nation, Supersize Me, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle) I am motivated again to revise our family diet. Over the years, we've quit eating at fast food chains and switched to more local, seasonal produce. So it wasn't that big of a change when we took up the challenge of In Defense of Food, an Eater's Manifesto, Pollan's latest book. "Eat food, not too much, mostly plants."

This book came out as we were revising our food budget, cutting it almost by half, and as food prices have increased dramatically. Now we're eating better, more healthy food than ever before. We have less trash, because we are buying no prepared/packaged food products. We have more compost, too.

The price is time. It now takes me 1-2 hours every day to make dinner, plus extra time to bake bread, make granola and granola bars and other snacks. But, interestingly, I don't resent the time spent in the kitchen or feel unduly put upon. On the contrary, I feel better about the work I do at home. Because I put more time and effort into our food, I take more pride in it.

In the Sunday magazine for the New York Times, Pollan wrote an excellent letter to the next president. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/12/magazine/12policy-t.html?partner=permalink&exprod=permalink

I like his ideas, the vision he has for new local agriculture economies in our country. But the biggest problem I see with his proposal becoming reality is labor. Just as feeding our family now takes more time, thought and work, the small, sustainable farms he envisions will take more time, thought and much, much more work. And just as I receive no monetary payment for the astonishingly valuable work I do in our home, no small farmer is going to make money that reflects the true value of her work. She and her family may well live on the tight edge of an unforgiving budget for their entire lives. A few people have signed up for that life, but I can't see enough doing it to transform our agriculture system as Pollan wishes.

It comes down to the basic values of our society. Society determines our individual worth by how much money we are paid for whatever job we happen to have. Mothers, childcare providers, teachers, and small farmers, who do unquantifiable work hardly make enough to live on, if they make anything at all. And so, the work that is most crucial to our society is least valued.

Fabric Swatches

2008-10-13T09:08:00.000-06:00

I recently salvaged several books of fabric swatches from the trash outside of a local interior design shop. So far I've made several bags, book covers, stuffed animals, and a baby quilt top.

Probably the two coolest things so far are Claire's fairy princess Halloween costume and my little old rocking chair that I was able to reupholster for Isaac.

Why so prolific, you might ask. Well, I had to prove to Clint that I wasn't just introducing pointless clutter into the house with these dozens of books of fabric. And to be honest, these fabric samples are a lot of fun. Each set is like a game. I pull a book apart and start shuffling around the pieces until it becomes apparent what needs to be made. And then it's a little puzzle, sewing it together.

Clint is 33!

2008-10-12T18:30:00.000-06:00

Happy Birthday Clint!
This Columbus Day brought us our first pumpkin cake. Everyone except Clint thought it was pretty much the same as carrot cake, but as Clint hates carrot cake and liked this, they are obviously different :)
Jacob wants it to be known that he didn't think it was like carrot cake either.
We didn't have 33 candles, so Claire cut up soda straws and artistically arranged them on the cake.