today...

we cleaned and cried.

we enjoyed weather that was a little bit cloudy. partly cloudy, i've heard it called before.

the canine had to spend some time in her kennel for doing naughty things.

we ate friday pizza on saturday.

we filled the house with winter aromas- pine and cinnamon and clove and cranberry and orange.

we had cherry pie and sang happy birthday accompanied on the piano by oldest daughter for the husband's birthday, even though his birthday is days and days away.

we gave hair cuts.

we attended a baby shower.

we picked up the sunday suit and dresses from the cleaners.

we made luke skywalker outfits out of old sunday shirts.

we folded and put away loads and loads of laundry.

we collected the chicken eggs and put them in our pockets, even though we have been told not to, and one of them happened to crack.

we cleaned up messy cracked egg mess.

we talked to grandma and grandpa.

we got hit in the head with a book. and it left a nasty gash.

we slept in.

we tried to set up an appointment to see the newest nephew and cousin. but, alas, his social calendar is full and he was out for the evening.

we practiced karate moves in the family room.

we played piano beautifully.

we exhausted another belt on the vacuum.

we ate birthday candy from last week.

we donated piles of clothes and shoes to the local thrift store.

we asked neighbors not to hold us accountable for the painting of the entryway we told them to hold us accountable for, because we simply did not get around to it.

we relaxed together at the end of the day and watched a movie, because the byu game is on too late.

All in a Sunday Afternoon

the husband and i were enjoying a quiet moment snuggled on our bed today, discussing life and all that comes with it. i was listening as he was trusting me with some of the deep feelings in his beautiful heart. i couldn't help but look at him in wonder as i listened to his intense emotions, something i love about him: he feels deeply and wholly. and once again, i was drawn into his soul- a place that feels like home. comfortable. familiar.

as we talked, soul to soul, we were intermittently interrupted by little people whom we kept shooing out of our room. for some reason, the little people just didn't get that we wanted to be left alone for just 5 minutes.

as soon as they were sent away, they would return moments later to report on the current catastrophe caused by brother or sister. there might have been some scratching involved between siblings. the kind that leaves marks. and maybe some pushing. and then there was the crashing of the ds on the tile. and our moment was interrupted again. time-outs were handed out, toys confiscated, and mom and dad returned to the sanctuary of their bedroom to conclude the deep heart to heart.

as we continued our discussion, feeling confident that the time-outs would be an effective means of confining children to their rooms, one little son snuck quietly into our bedroom. he had obviously been discussing the events of the last few minutes with his older sister, when he innocently questioned:

"so... what you're saying is that one of us has to run away?"

the first thought that came to my mind?

"yeah, i'm thinking mom or dad."

12:30 pm

Post-Edit title: Christmas Adam

(the original title of this post was Christmas Eve, Eve.

My nephew informed me that today

is actually Christmas Adam--- since Adam came before Eve)

The girls made lunch for everyone.

The husband and little son shredded papers

so that the husband can make paper bricks,

his newest green venture.

And I vacuumed.

So we can open presents on a clean rug.

Once the vacuuming was complete,

the girls powered up the Roku.

They were excited to finish watching She-Ra.

When the husband heard the She-Ra music,

he paused the paper shredder and joined them "for lunch."

(But we all know he really just wanted to find out what happened with She-Ra)

Merry Christmas Eve, Eve!!!

conversations on a monday afternoon

the children like to play games on my laptop. and sometimes while they are playing, the husband (while at work) notices that, according to instant messenger, i am online- so he will i.m. me. only he doesn't know that it is not me and it is one of the children.

yesterday oldest daughter was engrossed in some sort of entertainment courtesy of nick jr and nick's games. and while playing she received an i.m. from the husband.

when i came back to my laptop last evening, i read this delightful exchange.

the husband:

hey

oldest daughter:

hi, it's (oldest daughter)

the husband:

hi (oldest daughter)

can you have mom call me?

oldest daughter:

sure thing dead man.

daaad?????????

the husband:

what?

dead man?

oldest daughter:

you said we could have choacolate.\

the husband:

you can.

when mom gives it to you

oldest daughter:

yes of course youare a dead man.

i just want to have fun.

the husband:

is this (oldest daughter) still?

oldest daughter:

yes

the husband:

lol

you are confusing me :)

oldest daughter:

lol

ypur fny

your funny that was mist spelled

k. bye dad i love you

the husband:

you are so cute

i love you

what amazing girls i have!!

oldest daughter:

i love you more

bye

the husband:

have mom call me

or chat with me

oldest daughter:

k i will

love you

the husband:

love you too

oldest daughter:

k

bye.

and that was it. apparently the children had been promised chocolate. so i dug into the husband's secret chocolate stash and handed out reese's treats to eager children.

and i re-read the sweet conversation between a dad and one of his girls. and i felt gratitude. gratitude for a man who expresses love so freely to his family. gratitude for a man whose children love to joke and tease with him. gratitude for a man who works so hard for his family and still finds time to check in throughout the day.

i love that man. and that daughter.

p.s. oldest daughter did give me the message to call the husband. but i got busy and forgot. i don't even know what he wanted still. i'll have to remember to ask him.

In Which We Walk

This morning the husband and I awoke the children before dawn. On a Saturday. It was the morning of the Pioneer Trek Fun Walk- a walk to make sure we are prepared for the actual trek and up to the task of walking. Funly.

We slipped newly purchased Crocs on six tiny feet and pushed chilly arms through the long sleeves of jackets and we were on our way.

We made one stop to pick up a young man and young woman in our ward, who happen to be siblings, and hopped on the freeway to the trailhead. As we journeyed, the husband recounted to our little riders the story of a pioneer whose life truly inspired us as we watched a DVD depiction of it last Sunday evening. Maybe you have seen it. It is called Only a Stonecutter. And it is amazing.

We arrived at the walking site, wagon and stroller in tow. The husband manned the wagon, while I manned the stroller. (for some must push and some must pull) And we began walking. For 4 miles we walked. And we were supposed to complete the walk within an hour.

As we started out on the trail, the morning air was crisp and I watched my little brood. And my heart was warmed instantly. I love these people.

Oldest daughter took over stroller duty and ran most of the way while little son enjoyed the ride. Middle daughter sat snuggled with blankets in the wagon as the husband chauffeured her cute little highness. And we continued like this for the majority of the walk.

We caught up to the young lady we had picked up that morning, her brother long past her, and found she was struggling a bit, so we slowed our pace and encouraged her on. We remained by her side for the remainder of our little trek, sharing stories and dreams of the utltimate prom dress (her dreams, not mine) and drank our little water. And we tried to keep up with oldest daughter who seemed to have in her backpack endless energy for this walk.

I was itching to go a bit faster, but determined to see this young woman finish the walk. Her brother came back to lend encouragement and walked the last 1/4 mile alongside his sister. We finished the walk in 1 hour 11 minutes. And it was a victory for this cute young woman with prom dreams. I don't believe she has ever accomplished such a feat. And I could have hugged her brother for coming to rescue her.

And I must add that I incorporated the stretches you all suggested and I believe that they did help. My legs held up beautifully.Thank you for your wisdom.

And now I am off to plant tomatoes and strawberries, onions and peppers in my garden. And the husband will plant the lime tree.

What a glorious day.

Did I ever tell you about the time that...

So, here's the working situation of the husband: he works for an awesome company that is based in Provo, Utah. The husband heads up the Phoenix office. He has one whole co-worker that shares the Phoenix office with him. She is awesome. Being that they are the only two in Phoenix while the office in Provo is stacked with very cool people, they have different opportunities than those in the main office. And sometimes they miss out on fun stuff. And probably they miss out on some drama.

In my daily readings last week, I came across the post of a Provo office co-worker of the husband. This co-worker was reminiscing on the zany antics of the folks up in the UT. All those silly pranks and practical jokes (are pranks and p.j.'s the same thing? dunno.)

In reading the post I started feeling a little sad for the husband. Because he is a huge fan of the art of the practical joke. As am I. The great thing about a p.j. is that it inspires the victim to do one better. We can't resist them. We love to engage in them. And we compete for the title of Ultimate P.J. Master. But since the husband is in Phoenix, he misses out on the office shenanigans. Poor guy. There's not a lot of feasibility for the anonymity of a great p.j. here in this Phoenix office.

So I have spent a lot of time feeling sad for the husband. And then it hit me: I need to be feeling sad for my cute self. Because at least he has an office. Whereas, I do not have an office. Therefore (follow my math here):

Stay at Home Mom - Office = No Practical Joke Opportunities.

As I have been wallowing in this self-pity for a day and a half, I have come to the realization that since marriage and children, I have become the butt of ALL practical jokes. And I must list some of the funniest p.j.'s that the husband and children have pulled over on me. So here goes (and I am going to incorporate the bullets here).

• The time all the dishes in the house were dirty and left in the sink for me to clean. And then when it happened again the next day.
• The time the washable marker on the wall turned out to be NOT washable.
• The time I found my good silverware in the garden.
• The time oldest daughter cut the pony tail holder out of middle daughter's hair along with a little hair.
• The time I couldn't find one of the children in Kohl's.
• The time an entire pack of Orbit gum went through the washer and dryer and almost an entire summer wardrobe had to be discarded.

(I told you these were pretty funny. Continuing...)

• The time the toilet seat was left up and it was late at night and I got up to take care of some business.
• The time all the toys in the toybox were emptied on the floor of the loft and I was able to step on a few.
• The time I got home from a meeting and the house was empty and then I realized that everyone was just hiding from me.
• The time my bra was found in the toybox.
• The time little son was trying to get The Jungle Book dvd out of its case and snapped that disc right in half. (It doesn't get funnier than that.)
• The time middle daughter was playing with her Ariel Barbie in a bucket of water in the middle of the kitchen floor and there was more water on the floor than in the bucket.

Like I said, one of the best things about the p.j. is that it can inspire a person to come back with a bigger and better practical joke. So, all I have to say is Family, you have come up with some crazy stuff, but you better watch out- Mom's thinking up some doozies. And then the joke will be on YOU!

Editor's note: this sounds like the post of a disgruntled housewife. Not the case. I just thought it was a funny concept, so I went with it. Wouldn't trade the jokes for the world.

Defining Myself

Recently I have found myself thinking heavily upon my role as a wife and mother, both of which roles I truly have come to love, love, love.

As a couple, the husband and I have assumed the traditional roles of husband as breadwinner and wife as homemaker. I have no feminist issues with being a homemaker, rather I have embraced this role wholeheartedly. What I have found however, is that I sometimes desire to be recognized in this role, and it is a role that largely goes unrecognized.

First and foremost, the title of homemaker must be defined. In my world, a homemaker is one who sets the tone in the home, the one who makes the home a pleasing place to be. Not one who makes bread beautifully, cleans immaculately, crafts superbly, or pleases constantly.

I adhere to the standards set forth in The Family: A Proclamation to the World wherein is stated,

Husband and wife have a solemn responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children. "Children are an heritage of the Lord" (Psalms 127:3). Parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness, to provide for their physical and spiritual needs, to teach them to love and serve one another, to observe the commandments of God and to be law-abiding citizens wherever they live. Husbands and wives—mothers and fathers—will be held accountable before God for the discharge of these obligations.

To me, this outlines the job the husband and I are to do together. This is the easy job- tag-teaming and having someone to bounce ideas off of.

I have had a more difficult time coming to understand what exactly my role as mother and wife is. I feel like I have almost, finally, come to know just what I should worry about as a mother and wife and what I should let fall by the way- and not feel guilty for allowing them to fall by the way. Again, in The Family: A Proclamation to the World, it states:

By divine design, fathers are to preside over their families in love and righteousness and are responsible to provide the necessities of life and protection for their families. Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children. In these sacred responsibilities, fathers and mothers are obligated to help one another as equal partners. Disability, death, or other circumstances may necessitate individual adaptation.

After pondering on this statement, and after a little personal inspiration- maybe even revelation, I take a new meaning and gain a new understanding than ever before. Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children. It doesn't say Mothers are primarily responsible for the upkeep of the home, the cleaning of the toilets, the washing of the laundry, the emptying of the dishwasher, the mopping of the floors. Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of the children! How liberating is that? I love the new (always there) meaning I have found in the Proclamation. That is wonderful! As long as I am nurturing my children, I am doing my job.

Now, knowing that my primary role is in nurturing these sweet children and his is in the providing for the necessities and presiding in the home- this leaves the upkeep of the home to both of us. And in our case, this is something we both agree on. What a wonderful husband! I am not excusing myself from the main upkeep of the home, but I am allowing myself to invite the husband in and to realize that this is his responsibility, too. Together, the housework is our responsibility. Even still, I have felt guilty that he has had to help. Why? It is because of those traditional roles that we placed upon ourselves.

I am grateful for a husband who works hard to provide for our needs- and who does an awesome job at that. And who supports me in my role. He is truly the biggest champion of mothers and hugest ally in parenting.

So, what am I going to do with this new found knowledge? I am going to nurture my children more. I am going to read to them more. I am going to play games with them more. I am going to talk to them more. I am going to allow them to help with the housework more. I am going to play barbies and babies with them more. I am going to build forts with them more. I am going to show them the nurturing love and power of a woman and by that rite, a mother. I am not going to feel guilty if the dishes are left in the sink, or the laundry is on the couch waiting to be folded. I am not going to feel the guilt because of a floor screaming to be vacuumed.

I love this talk by Elder Ballard in the April General Conference where he talks to women about being daughters of God. He quotes Anna Quindlen who said:

The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make. … I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of [my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.

I love that! I am going to be that woman who treasures the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less. My children are my second greatest treasure, my husband the first. I love these people. I don't want to rush past these times. I want to savor them. I want to remember the details, the scents, the sights.