Last week we took our annual trip to the mountains to see the fall leaves in all their glory. As usual, it was beautiful. The leaves are so spectacular this time of year, especially the maples.
I have a love/hate relationship with Fall. I love the chilly evenings and gorgeous foliage. I love that I can make soup for dinner and not sweat to death while we eat.
I love having a reason to make as many pumpkin recipes as I can think of. Everything from pumpkins chocolate chip cookies to my newest favorite, pumpkin chili. I love walking on our favorite pathway and stopping so we can literally watch the leaves fall before our very eyes, and the soft sound they make as they whoosh to the ground. Really, what's not to love?
The only part of Fall I dread is the end of it. Because that means it will be winter and that means endless cold and wet and snow. I am already dreading that. The California girl in me wishes we could skip the Utah winters all together.
Especially this year, because when Spring comes, so does this baby!
Dear Mom in Wal-Mart I saw the Other Day With the Screaming Child,
I realized as I made my way out of the store the other day that you probably thought I was staring at you and judging you harshly because of your toddler who was throwing a doozey of a tantrum. You were probably embarrassed enough without noticing that I was staring at you. I'm sorry I stared, really I am. I was not judging you. I was having the thought that I was glad it was not my child this time. Because trust me, I have had my share of grocery store melt downs. If I were to write down all of my "fun" grocery store moments with the children over the years I could fill a novel. In fact it is rare that I get away to the store without any children. You probably thought I had none, since that was one of the rare occasions I got to enjoy a few moments of peace shopping solo. Truth is, I have twice as many children (with another on the way, I might add) as you had with you. Our moments have ranged from mildly funny to embarrassing to the point that I vow never to take my children in public ever again. In fact the very next day it was my toddler melting down in the very same Wal-Mart (don't ask why I was there 2 consecutive days). It was then that I felt really badly for allowing myself to be caught staring at you. So from the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry! Love, Me
Happy Birthday Beano! Glow in the dark candles and everything.
We have this weird tradition that I had never heard of until I married into Jay's family, of bumping the birthday boy (or girl) on the head with the gift. We have a chant that goes with it. "Heavy, heavy hang over thy poor head, what do you wish with a bump on the head!" See, it's weird. It's usually fine unless the gift is a brand new BMX bike. Then it gets a little awkward. But really, I can't believe how fast my kids are growing up.
Dear Beano,
You are becoming such a good little man. I love how you want to be just like daddy. If you ask me, he's not a bad person to be like. You follow him around fixing things and taking care of your little brothers. You are becoming so responsible and obedient. Of course you still have that mischievous side. You are all boy. You're never happier than when your blazing down a super steep hill at top speed on that fancy new bike with a huge grin on your face, giving your mother a heart attack. You've got the battle wounds to show. At this moment every elbow and knee is skinned along with one on your ankles. But that does not stop you for a second. You have such joy in everything you do. Whether it's singing while you do dishes or running around the yard with a stick that's twice as long as you are. You always have a grin on your face, ready to have fun. Thank you for being such a great kid. I love being your mom and watching you grow. I talk big about keeping you small forever, but part of me loves watching you grow and can't wait to see the man you'll become. I love you and Happy Birthday! Love, Mom
A few mornings ago I woke up with a massive head ache. My first awaking thought was wondering when this seemingly never ending pregnancy head ache would go away.
When I became more cognizant I realized it was awfully early for a head ache. They usually don't grace me with their presence until after dinner. As I made my way to the bathroom the first glimpse of myself in the mirror was considerably more scary than usual. Was it the hair? Nope, same frizz as usual. Was it the pale lips and skin in general? Nope, Same pallor every morning of my life. The eyes, it was the eyes. They were puffy and swollen and I looked awful. Then I put 2 and 2 together. The reason for the puffy eyes and throbbing head? I had literally cried myself to sleep the night before. There have been a couple of local news stories lately that have really hit me hard. I don't watch the news, I heard about these from other people. I'm sure I didn't get all the details, nor do I want them. It's enough to know that these poor innocent children went through hell on earth. I don't know if it's the pregnancy hormones or the fact that I have children the same ages as all of the children victums, but these stories have really messed with my head. It has been a few weeks now and I still can not get them off my mind. The night that I cried myself to sleep my mind would not stop thinking about those children's moments of suffering and it tore my heart from my chest. There is so much about this world that I hate. I hate that children have to suffer. Then the words to one of my favorite hymns came into my head.
"Consider the sweet tender children who must suffer on this earth. The pains of all of them He carried from the day of His birth. He clothes the lilies of the fields. He feeds the lambs of His fold. And He will heal those who trust Him. And make their hearts as gold."
~Consider the Lilies
Suddenly I was picturing those children wrapped in His arms. The gratitude I felt for my pains that have been healed became palpable. Two of the children did not survive. Their last moments on earth were nothing less than horrific. As I pictured them walking arm in arm with our Savior I felt their burden lift. The other child survived. She must live the rest of her life with the wounds and scars of what happened to her. I pray with all my heart she can find the peace in His love that she needs, that will heal her.
These stories are not unique to my area. Things like this are happening all over the world these days. I'm sure you can all think of similar stories from your own local news stations. The need for our Savior is universal. He sees the ugliness in the world and we can find refuge from the storm in His loving arms.
Every week there's a new mountain to move. Just when I think I have it conquered, it somehow sneaks back in and the next thing you know, there I am moving the veritable same mountain, week after week. This relentless mountain? Laundry Let's just say it: it's never really DONE. Because just when you think every stitch is clean and folded and put in its proper place some kids sits in mud or pees their pants or wipes boogers all down their sleeves. (Kids are disgusting, I'm just sayin.) Then, magically, the same mountain you just moved starts to reappear. It's a funny thing, that laundry pile. I remember when it was just Mr Bird and I and we were expecting Doodle. I received tons of cute girl baby clothes from family and friends. Before she was born I'd sit for hours and fold them and imagine my baby in them and place them in the correct drawers or hangers. Then, when she was born I washed all of her clothes separately with Dreft, a laundry soap formulated just for baby's super sensitive skin. I loved folding her cute little clothes and seeing that little pile appear out of seemingly no where. With each new baby the best part of laundry has been finding the miniature clothes and watching the tiny pile grow. And for some reason the prospect of another new tiny pile makes laundry almost bearable again. Almost...
I keep having these blog posts writing themselves inside my brain. The problem is that I have not had the energy or desire to sit at the computer and write them. So there they sit, day after day, in my brain along with the list of chores that need done and the groceries that need bought. I forgot how much energy it takes to create a new person. Or maybe I'm older now than I have ever been with any of my other babies and I've become a wimp. Either way, my whole life feels neglected right now. Except home school. That's the one thing that's thriving. I have plenty of time to be on the couch and read to my children or have them read to me or help with math and writing. It has been fabulous. Beano is reading better than ever and is starting to really love it. He'll bring me his beginning readers and ask to read to me several times a day. I love it. But that is not what this post is about. A few days ago I posted this on facebook:
"Now Hiring: personal chef. 3 week contract (or until the morning sickness passes). I'll pay what I'd normally make doing the same job (nothing). Any takers?"
I meant it as a joke and plus I was bored and wanted comments. Well, this is one of the comments I got from just about one of the best people that I know.
"Sara, I'm busy tomorrow but I'd be happy to take the dinner shift on Thurs. Just have the ingredients & instructions out for me, I'll be there @5. Also, have you tried ginger or mint? They're tummy settlers, I've heard. Love ya!"
I tried to tell her she did not really need to come make me dinner, but she did. She showed up on my door step just when she said she would. She cooked my raw chicken *gag* and we chatted as dinner practically made itself. After she left I got to thinking about her wonderful act of kindness. I thought about how many times I've had the thought to do something for someone and I put it off until I forgot I even had the thought in the first place. *Shameful* But not Cindy the Great. She showed up. How great would this world be if we all showed up more often. How much suffering could we eliminate if we acted on all those little thoughts we have? Isn't that part of why we're here? To learn compassion and service and love. Because can we really love someone until we spend time serving them? Weather it's making dinner or just two girl friends chatting, it's all in the name of service. What woman do you know who can be happy and sane without a good gab session every once in a while? So yes, even a good chat is a form of service in my eyes. It makes us see that we are not the only ones with pain. It makes us look outside our ever selfish world and actually see others and their pains and their joys and their trials. "Have I done any good in the world today? Have I helped anyone in need? Have I cheered up the sad or made someone feel glad? If not I have failed indeed. Has anyone's burden been lighter today, because I was willing to share? Have the sick and the weary been helped on their way? When they needed my help was I there? Then wake up and do something more Than dream of your mansion above. Doing good is a pleasure, a joy beyond measure, A blessing of duty and love." Hymn #223 It's time to get our tooshies in gear, including my own (as soon as I feel better!) The world needs more like you, Cindy!
P.S. the fonts turned out really weird in this post and I don't know how to fix it, so there you go. Weird fonts and all.
Oh look, I still have a blog. I wonder if after the tumble weeds pass if there will be anyone left to read. If not, that's OK, I still have me, myself and I to write for. School starts this week. It seems like just yesterday all of our cousins would be home and there was the promise of endless Summer nights and gallons of lemonade in our future. All the lemonade has been guzzled and all the nights have faded. We had a wonderful Summer filled with park days, the rodeo, fire works, watermelon, swimming, parades, horse rides, camping, hiking, music filled Sunday evenings and much, much more. It's time to turn our focus back to our family routine. I love our routine. When I think about it I get a nice comfortable feeling. It keeps me sane. I have slowly been easing back into it for the last few weeks and this morning was a sheer joy. I love home schooling my children. While others are having back to school hoopla, we are eating our regular breakfast and doing our regular jobs and cuddling up on the couch (all 5 of us) for our morning devotional and the beginning of our "school day". I love having my children close and reading scriptures together. Today we read about the creation. It seemed appropriate. I love reciting and memorizing with my children. I love to hear even the baby-who's-not-a-baby-anymore repeat the words we say. He's one of us now, you know. He's a big kid and he does literally everything the others do. I love Doodle bringing me her math book and showing me the 7 pages she completed. I love hearing the stories they write. I love hearing my kids read their first words. Today that is just what Dubs did. We were playing with the alphabet flash cards and I laid out the "a" and the "t". He read them. Then I put the "c" in front and he read "cat". Then we changed the cards from "c" to "h", "b", "f", "m", "n" and he read "hat", "bat", "fat", "mat", "nat". He thought it was the best thing ever. He laughed uncontrollably the whole time. Meanwhile I was stunned that my little boy was reading real words, simple as they may be. It's like he's on the edge, just ready to embrace it all. I really do love this journey. I have so many goals for this year, I am so excited. The big one of course is to get through this pregnancy so I can love on that new baby.
