Chasing Light

I love sunsets. Every time I savor one I just feel like I'm getting a hug from Heaven. I feel like my Father is reassuring me to, "Be still and know that I am God".

There is just one problem. They never seem to last long enough. The sun sinks faster than it should and darkness follows and I long for that Heavenly hug again.
This past week I had a once in a lifetime (probably) experience. The Man and I were flying out of Chicago on a direct flight to Utah. Our take-off happened just as the sun was setting and I rejoiced at viewing a precious sunset from the sky.

Our plane must have been traveling at about the same rate the earth was spinning. 

For more than three hours I watched the sun set. 

For three hours.

At first I was elated. Every 10 minutes or so I would grab the phone and snap another pic. I have nearly 20 of them. They all look almost identical. No moments of intense brightness, and no moments of lonely darkness. No changes as the sun reflects at different angles.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I contemplated the message that I was being sent. God is always there for me, but sometimes I need to experience the darkness that I can more fully comprehend the light.

There are a few people in my life right now that are experiencing more than a moment of darkness. It would seem that storms are battering them from the depths with not even a flicker to be seen. I pray for them to have the ability to turn around and face East, let go of that which has set, and faithfully wait for the morning. Sooner or later the sun will come up, more brilliant for having emerged from darkness.

Irish Twins

             I will never, not ever, as long as I live, forget the look an Steve's face when I told him we were expecting again, our precious Miss Ivy just 6 months old. It was actually Christmas Eve. Just a few days before, I had experienced the undeniable sensation of morning sickness. We were so caught up with getting Christmas ready for a dozen children that I hadn't had time to take any sort of test.

Steve was sitting on the floor, wrapping. I showed him the infamous plus sign, a little hesitantly, not knowing what his reaction would be. He just looked up into my eyes with the most serene, joyful expression.

I needed that response. Miss Ivy had had a dangerously short umbilical cord. I would start contracting with just minimal movement. As a result, I had to remain in bed for most of the last two months of that pregnancy. Countless friends and neighbors brought food. I had very little ability to do anything with the house and my little boys were still happily running amok. I was embarrassed. I had worked for decades developing a mantra of "What other people think of me is none of my business." That's easy to remember when dealing with gossip and life in general. But here were scores of women in and out of my increasingly out of control home and they were seeing for themselves that I wasn't up to the task at hand.

And now I was expecting again just six months later.

As thrilled as I was about having another baby, "What other people think of me" was definitely at the forefront of my thoughts.

           Christmas is always magical with a house full of children. It was especially so for me that night. Nichole and Spencer were preparing for missions and were experiencing so many emotions. Steve and I decided it would be best to wait for a calmer moment to announce the great news to the kids.

Before all of the excitement of opening new jammies, feeding reindeer and setting out eggnog for Santa, we like to read from Luke. Daddy reads and the kids don impromptu costumes and act. And then my favorite moment of the year occurs. We sit in a circle, no lights on but the tree, and share our testimonies of Christ. Then we sing together for a bit.

Miss Nichole loves to sing "How Great Thou Art". We sang it that night, lights twinkling, and it overpowered me.  As we sang, I knew that God is in control. I knew that His will was coming to pass. I felt confidence in Him, if not confidence in myself. I knew that this was right and I knew that this baby was another precious little girl that needed to be in our family.

A month later, I had an ultrasound. I was not 8 weeks pregnant, I was 17! Due date exactly the same as Miss Ivy's,  one year later. Baby looked fantastic and was 99.9% positively.... a LITTLE BOY!?!?! Even with the pictures I couldn't convince any one, including myself, that She was a He. It just didn't feel right. I had felt such a strong impression at Christmastime. Because of the scare with Miss Ivy's cord, we had a second ultrasound a month later. She was absolutely a She and her cord looked perfect!

Miss Isabella and Miss Ivy have very different personalities that just seem to compliment each other in the best of ways. They inspire one another....sometimes to do greater things than they probably ought to be doing.

July 2013

July 2014

No Wonder, Woman

 It seemed like such a good, sweet, innocent idea...




























 ...until they found (and 
used up) the green paint!













  You know you secretly always wanted to do this and your sane mother would never let you. Which was smart, because the green paint isn't washable. Oops! 

Friendly Socks

I found this adorable sign on Pinterest.

Maybe I just need some relationship advice. What do you think?

Today is my friend Heather's Birthday. I miss her. Before I moved away she would come over at night to talk. I would put the Little People to bed and, not being able to just sit, we would match socks. (We don't mate them....they multiply when you do that!) We discovered an interesting phenomenon. If you turn most of the lights out....you can find a match every time! She might need to come visit me soon.

Missionary Man

I don't think it was a cosmic coincidence that our two oldest children left home on the same day. As Steve and I dropped Hermana Nichole and Elder Spencer off at the Missionary Training Center and drove away I felt strange, like we were empty-nesters.  I was 5 months pregnant and there were 10 other children at home, but I just knew our home would never be the same. It hasn't been. Every precious soul changes the dynamics of our family. Every one. They each have gifts and strengths that are uniquely individual. They each have challenges that only they can learn from.

As a mom, baking cookies, washing clothes, and educating their eager minds fill my days. But as a mother I know my real job is to be a constant reminder to them of their infinite worth and potential.

I've only had three conversations with Elder Crosgrove in the past 17 months. Christmas and Mother's Day. Mission rules. I wonder that he is becoming a man and perhaps I'm missing it. But then I get letters like the one I had yesterday and I know that he is not becoming a man without his mama. He is becoming a man of God and I get to have a front row seat. He's not perfect, none of us are, but he's definitely headed in the right direction. And judging by the pics, I know that he still has a beautiful sense of humor and his ability to love without judgement has been magnified.

Conquering the Beasts

This week I went to Girl's Camp with 26 beautiful, fun, unique, and spirited young women. We hiked mountains, explored caves, rappelled off cliffs, played pirates in canoes, tied knots, Geo-cached for chocolate, and went surfing on one very large (and kissable) sea turtle. My favorite? Talking for hours with some of these amazing almost women about life and all it offers. I found myself silently thanking God for every difficult thing I have ever experienced. Thankful that I have been learning and not just enduring. I drew on the hard times of my life for wisdom, guidance, and empathy. I hope I left those precious girls feeling strong and empowered to work towards all the awesomeness that their loving Heavenly Father has waiting for them.
The last time I went to Girl's Camp was nearly ten years ago. I was afterwards admonished that I should be one WITH the girls, not one OF the girls. I hope I have changed a bit since then. I hope I haven't changed too much.

The Journey not the Destination

We had great plans over the Fourth for a road trip to Jenny's Lake, a ferry ride, and then hike to the falls. We had books on tape and car games and were ready to roll. Two hours late as usual, but still ready to roll. To save time I grabbed some green drink at the grocery store instead of stopping for breakfast. Nutritious, fast, yummy...what could go wrong? The Little People did not drink, they guzzled. About the time we hit the summit it became apparent a storm was brewing. The groans started in the back of the bus and quickly spread. Steve pulled off the road. Kids poured out of the van, lining up by the fence, all doubled over. Sir Matt was not so lucky. He was covered in green drink that didn't look or smell so yummy any more. I stripped him down, grabbed some bottled water, and gave him an impromptu shower on the highway. Cars stopped. Passenger van spewing sick children is always a tourist attraction. The Man did his best to ward them off.
No one was begging for three more hours of driving. Surprise. A memory of a small sign in a town nearby flashed through my mind. Ice caves. Let's go find them. We did! They were amazing! A park, a water fight, and a railroad museum topped it off. We spent the afternoon an hour from home and still a world away. All's well that ends well!!!

You Flick It, I'll Pic It!

Teenagers tell me they want privacy. They tell me they want independence. I hear over and over how lifestyle-cramping little brothers and sisters can be. (Can they PLEASE just stay out of my stuff!?!) They want a bonfire and 26 best friends to enjoy it with. They want a drivers license and a red car of some sort. They want their own bathroom, or at least to not share one with someone who is potty-training. Teenagers can be a bit needy...or is that wanty?
Maybe the wonderful pre-adults in my home are odd, but I rarely hear one of them stand up and yell, "COULD SOMEONE PLEASE HUG ME RIGHT NOW?!?!" And yet deep down that's exactly what they really need.....and want. No-matter-what still applies. Forever and always is not optional. You are definitely my favorite. And yes, I still love you.
They also need to know that whatever is on the little finger had better not find its way onto the little sister......or an embarrassing picture might get posted!

Even Heroes Were Little Boys Once

July 4th is a time to show off our patriotism and enjoy all that this great country has to offer. As I watched my Little Men doing just that this year I couldn't get this image from Memorial Day out of my mind. Sir Tommy and Sir Matt wanted to be as close to this veteran as possible. They were in awe and rightly so. They don't understand  the sacrifice that past generations have made but somehow they sense it.








As we drove to the lake this year I started quizzing the Little People about the Declaration of Independence and the Revolutionary War. (That's weird, but we homeschool, so we're expected to be weird). I wanted them to imagine the circumstances of the time. What would they have done? What cause would they have supported? Why? If they felt impressions, one way or another, would they have had the faith and courage to act upon those impressions?








I hope it was less of a History lesson and more of an Apathy-Makes-Your-Mama-Crazy-So-Live-For-Something lesson....because I have a sneaking suspicion that we'll look back at their generation with marked admiration.

The Dog Did It!

Remember the Mormon ads when they first came out as commercials? The children get fed up with a daddy that is always working and won't take time to go camping. They plot with the mommy, pack up the camper, trick dad into poking his head in after which he is locked into place, protesting loudly. They then drive off into the sunset leaving no mess behind.....
Well I think this is the Crisis Center version. I believe we got the protesting loudly part right.

Mickey Mouse vs. Tarzan

I love Mondays. Well...I love Monday nights. At our house Monday night is Family Night. That means that at 7 the phone is unplugged, any device with a screen is turned off, and the door goes unanswered. For a few short hours it's just the 15 of us. Not every Monday night is spectacular. Sometimes the bickering gets the best of us. Sometimes plans fall through. And sometimes we just have to grab a can opener, a case of beans, some frozen hot dogs and hopefully a bag of marshmallows and head for the hills.
That's what we did last night and I am so glad we did. It's so refreshing to step away from the world with my little army.
We found a group camp site that had been abandoned because the bridge to it had been washed away. No problem! Everyone worked together and we forged the stream, babies, watermelon, hotdogs and all. At one point it looked like a sandbag assembly line as we passed objects from person to person across the river. And the consequences of all that hard work? An entire, beautiful hillside full of wonder and adventure ALL TO OURSELVES!!! It's not Disneyland....and I'm so glad that it isn't.