Abandoned Christmas Card...Again

There's fashionably late, and then there's late late.  My attempt at sending out Christmas Cards failed (again).  I knew I wasn't going to get them out at the beginning of December or even mid-December, but I thought I could possibly squeeze them in somewhere between Christmas and New Year's.  I wrote the letter, visited the photo lab and almost placed an order for a photo-card to accompany it.  As luck would have it, we ended our year of years by all getting sick three days before Christmas.  So--big and small--here's a wrap of the year (and it won't be coming in your mailbox)...

We learned about cooling caps, NICUs, and what it means to have a miracle baby named Chaim.  We learned that being able to hold Chaim was the best moment we could have experienced.  This little guy's birth happened when Brooke's uterus ruptured at home, and a trip to the hospital ended with an emergency C-section and a 10 day stay in the NICU.  We are so grateful that God placed the nurses and doctors where we needed them to be before we even knew we needed a miracle.  Brooke and baby Chaim came through the experience with the help of many people and many prayers, and our family is very grateful for the wonder of life.

Brooke is learning how to handle 3 kids at home while still working part-time as a Scholarship Advisor (it's a slow learning curve--she is resorting to frozen dinners often).  She is learning rules of the NFL (thanks to tutorials by Scottie).  Most of all, Brooke is falling in love with her kids again now that she isn't sick from the pregnancy or worn out from the blood transfusion.  Life is good.

Scott has learned that Brooke will watch NFL if he explains the rules to Brooke.  ;-)  He has learned everything possible about cooling caps, NICU schedules, and calling for an ambulance in the middle of the night.  He also is somewhat (really) happy that Chaim is his twin--including the red hair and complexion.  We are going to buy stock in sunblock.

We learned that all rules of nutrition go out the window when you are on a flight to Florida with children.  We learned that reading a map of an amusement park is helpful during the first hour you are there--not the next day (which is how we approached it).  And finally, we learned that a day at the beach in November is a very different experience, including howling winds and frozen toes.

We have joined the craze of all things Frozen, dressing up as Elsa (Noel), Anna (Juliet), and Olaf (Chaim) for Halloween.  Noel has loved her year of preschool and is learning to read...through multiple readings of the Bob Books.  Noel thinks they are great, Brooke is ready to hide the "Sam sat. Mat sat." book after the 100th reading.  Juliet is learning how to write squiggly mountains and pretend they are letters.  The girls are pretty good at helping Mom--it now only takes 30 minutes for them to get dressed instead of the usual hour.  We're hoping to make some progress on the morning routine in 2015.

Chaim learned a lot in those first few days.  We are grateful for amazing nurses and doctors that acted very quickly to save his life, and help his brain perform normally.  As of now, he is a normal little baby.  Every moment that we have with him is a treasure.  (By the way--the name Chaim means "life" in Hebrew)

That's the year in a nutshell.  We're grateful for our family, our faith, and the gift of each day. 

Our Merry Christmas

This is what we thought Christmas would be like:

 This is what Christmas turned out to be:

 

I'll start with Christmas Eve--we ate spaghetti and meatballs, which is a dinner we have at least once a week, but it was the only thing I could think to fix.  As I started to boil the water for the spaghetti, Scott got a call from his boss that his mom had fallen in the parking lot of the store.  They spent the night at the ER where they learned her nose was broken.  On the homefront, Chaim cried while I tried to time the meatballs, pasta, and garlic bread.  At various intervals, the phone would ring and I would try to answer it.  We had just purchased smartphones, and I had absolutely no clue how to answer a call.  I kept touching the little green phone, but that didn't work.  I would try to call Scott back, but he couldn't answer the calls either.  The girls stayed busy during this chaotic night by watching Incredibles.  I know--it's not a classic Christmas movie by any stretch of the imagination, but they had watched every Christmas movie during the week of sickness, and this was their choice.  Finally, before going to bed, we put out Nilla cookies, milk, and a cough drop.  I hadn't cooked anything in a week so we resorted to Nillas, and the cough drop was Juliet's idea.  In her words:  "I'll bet Santa has a cough like us--he'll like the cough drop."  He did.  To complete it, the only special plate we could find was my Hanukkah plate with Hebrew writing and a menorah.  The girls thought it was pretty, and that the writing was some form of elfish language.  Again--I saw no reason to correct them.  Before putting the girls to bed, I told them the Christmas story using their Fischer Price Little People Nativity set.  They went to bed happy, even with their sniffles and coughs.

Christmas Day was great--opened presents, played with the presents, and stayed in our jammies all day long.  This was part because we wanted to, and part because none of us had any energy from being sick.  We watched the girls' new DVD, Snow White, while inhaling VapoRub.  For Christmas dinner, the girls had hot dogs, which they considered the best Christmas dinner ever.  Scott and I had ribs, which sounds better than it was.  It was my first time making ribs, and I thought more dry rub was a good thing.  It most definitely is NOT a good thing; the heat was so much we literally cried while eating them.   

Finally, we said goodnight and wished each other a final Merry Christmas.  Can't wait to see what happens for New Year's...

How Long?

Days turned to weeks, turned to months, turned to many months.  I wish I could say that I was travelling the world, or we were in the middle of building a house, or that we had a baby.  But the reality is that the furthest I've traveled in the last eight months was to Provo, Utah (the least exotic place I know), the biggest home project we have done was to install a new sink in the kitchen (which I did not help with at all, and actually took the girls on a picnic so that Scott could work), and finally--we are still a family of four...

Picture taken in August of last year--but I think we all basically look the same.  Well, except me.  That is where our "family of four" will be changing.  I'm officially one trimester down, and baby #3 is due in September.  I am one of those lucky women that gains weight as soon as she gets pregnant, breaks out in the worst case of acne, and is sick for 9 months.  Is it any wonder that it's been three years since I signed up for this?

We told the girls on Monday:  we combined it with Family Home Evening, and had a little lesson on families.  We're still not sure if they understand the concept, because even after we explained that the baby will be a part of our family, Noel's one question was "How Long?"  We told her the baby was due in September, to which she said, "No--how long will the baby stay with us?"  According to her, a rent-a-baby situation would be ideal.  Juliet doesn't believe there is a baby in my tummy, since she can't see it.  She just thinks I'm getting really chubby.  Isn't that nice?  They are both relieved that the reason I am sick is for the baby; however, the concern is now entirely for the baby.  If I throw up--no big deal, just as long as the baby in my tummy is doing just fine.

So...there is the update on our life.  Hope this update was somewhat worth waiting for:-)

Old?!

I always hate it when people say, "Oh, I'm getting so old."  I refuse to be old!  I refuse to feel old!  Which is why, against the law of physics, Scott and I went down several slides at 7 Peaks in a double tube, flipped over twice, and are both now covered in bruises.

We have no picture or video of this hilarious water park experience...but you can imagine my head under Scott's knee with the tube on top of both of us.  We flailed around corners and down 10-foot drops, trying to turn around before we were ejected from the slide to the pool.  Our entrance was so horrible the lifeguard offered to help us find an EMT.

For some reason, we went down another slide.  Same outcome.

I am now saying, "Wow, I'm old."  Old enough to be okay with hanging out in the kiddie pool with the girls.

The Genius of John Adams (and David McCullough)

Everyday for the past six months, I've stepped on the treadmill, turned on my iPod, and hammered out several miles while listening to John Adams.

In my past life, I taught history.  I loved parts of it...other parts I endured.  Sorry to those that love Chinese history, but it was incredibly difficult to get tenth graders and myself to distinguish between the Ming, Qin, and Xin dynasties.  On the other hand, I love American History, specifically the era of the Revolutionary War.

It was quite a shock to realize how little I knew about John Adams.  What wasn't a shock was to read an amazing book by David McCullough.  His ability to weave history into something real, present, and captivating is a gift.  One of my favorite talks by McCullough, The Glorious Cause of America, focuses in on 1776.  I listened to it several times, then finally jumped into John Adams, anxious for more.

I learned so much from the example of John Adams, realizing how ignorant I have been of his life. My favorite lesson came early in the book:  both John and Abigail would repeatedly quote, "Be Good and Do Good".  Living this motto, they repeatedly sacrificed their own desires and wishes to serve America.  I think of myself as patriotic, but I realize that I have much to BE and to DO if I am to live up to the patriotic standard that John Adams and others like him set.

One depressing part about reading the book came on the last page.  I felt like I was losing a tutor and inspiring friend.  I want to read it again-now-and learn everything I missed on the first reading.  I heard it said once that a book that didn't require a second reading probably wasn't worth reading at all.  I agree with that:  if I can learn everything in a first reading, it probably isn't that great of a book.  On the other hand, a book like John Adams can't possibly be understood in one reading, and therefore has much to offer.  So, when I read it again, I'll be on the watch for all the stories and strength of example I missed on the first reading.  One thing will be the same:  David McCullough will draw me into another time and place, helping me live in my time and place as a better and stronger person.  

Check these out---awesome blogs

I have a list of blogs I love--most of them are family blogs and incredibly funny, entertaining, and keep me smiling at my friends.  Then--there are two blogs written by people I've never met, but wish I could.  I come back to these again and again, because their thoughts are always fresh and genuine, inspiring and unique.  Check these out:  

This Too is written by Melissa Sarno, an amazing writer that lives in New York City.  Her posts are about books, the city, her life, and writing.  The writing is simultaneously simple and elegant; every time I read her words, I'm inspired to write more and write better.  

 Study Hacks is by Cal Newport, my current favorite author.  (I wrote a post recently about his most current book So Good They Can't Ignore You).  I've read all his books, check in with his blog often, and am always enlightened by his theories.  Even better--I like how his theories improve the quality of life and work.  What's not to like about that?

Hope you'll enjoy these blogs as much as I do.

Saying Goodbye

I am standing in the middle of a room, feeling raw emotions that leave me empty of thoughts.  Finally, I begin to think again.

Where is my Grandpa?  Where is the giant I have known all my life, anxious to discuss life, ask questions, and mentor me at every juncture of life?  

I haven't seen my grandpa for several months, even though family members told me his health was declining.  My mom flew down to visit him, a sister's family took a weekend trip, and cousins flew across country.  I stayed home.  I deliberated.  I thought about him as I had known him, and prolonged the goodbye until now.  Even now, goodbye is elusive.  He doesn't recognize me, looking beyond me with blank and pain-filled eyes.  Goodbye wasn't possible before:  I wasn't ready, and he was fighting to stay.  Goodbye isn't possible now:  I am here, but he is fighting to leave this life.  I just hold his hand, thin and long, and allow the memories to rush over my mind.

His place is at the kitchen table, drinking carrot juice and eating sprouted wheat toast, asking me about my work and what I am reading.  When I was a child, he asked me about school and ballet class, focusing on the one-on-one conversations that I would expect with every visit.  As a teenager, I was dragged to a health food store as a first stop on a grandpa-granddaughter outing.  We stayed there for 3 hours while he became best friends with the owner, and had his cooperation with signing a health bill for congress at the end of a conversation.  In college, he wanted to hear about every class, every thought I had.  I called him from my apartment throughout the years, giving him updates and waiting for counsel.  I didn't always look forward to it, and sometimes complained about it afterwards, but now I wish I had one more chance to listen to his wisdom.  He understood then what I value now--he was my grandfather.  He understood that I had enough "friends", he took the greater role of a teacher, leader, and mentor.  In a family that was spread coast-to-coast, he filled the role of Grandfather and Patriarch to each of us.  That is what I realize I need to tell him in my goodbye--that I'm grateful I had a Grandpa, and that I really did listen and tried to follow the counsel he shared.

Unlike me, he had always been listening and learning.  If I read a book that I enjoyed, he would read it too and want to discuss it, ranging from The Secret Garden to Fahrenheit 451.  His appetite for learning never stopped, insisting on being read to during road trips.  We worked our way through Mere Christianity while driving to Zion National Park, stopping at least once a page to discuss the ideas and how these applied to our lives.  Is it any wonder that I listen to audiobooks and want to discuss everything I read?  Learning kept him young and alive, even at 91 years of age, and I find myself wanting to learn as much as possible in all different subjects.  This is what I need to tell him in my goodbye--that I am just realizing how little I know, and how much I want to keep learning.

I think of this now, while I sit next to him, trying to formulate thoughts that follow a sequence or pattern.  I jump from memory to memory, smiling at scattered images from my life.  These images are what I want to write about, but my grandpa gave specific instructions for me:  I am to write his obituary.  My mom suggests I begin now, since these are the final days of his life.  We are staying with my Aunt Kathy and Uncle Dave, where my grandpa has been staying the past several months.  The writing is difficult and a day of work yields one paragraph about his birth and childhood.  It is too little, too chopped for the man I know as Grandpa Great.  How do you synopsize life in a sentence, a paragraph, an obituary?  Can I write anything about a man that was both grandfather, tutor, mentor, and teacher?  And I know he was that and so much more to others.  I can't write all of that in an obituary, but I do need to tell him in my goodbye.

I'm realizing more and more that the goodbye may not be for him at this point...maybe it is for me.  Maybe it is good for me to realize just how much I've inherited and learned from my grandpa.  I think I took it for granted that he was amazing--and I feel like my children are getting shortchanged by not knowing him, or having his influence.  And it is here that I finally realize that I am more like my Grandpa than I ever knew, and that my kids will know him because they know me.  They will listen to audiobooks with me, or if I am really like him, we will read books out loud in the car and discuss the theories and ideas.  I'll talk to people about The Book of Mormon the same way he did--as something he wanted to share because it was the best and most important message he could share.  His memory will be with me when I go running, or work on an important goal, or make fun family time a priority.  At some point, I'll explain to my children that I do all these things because it is a legacy passed down from Grandpa Miller.  And instead of saying goodbye, my girls will say hello to their Grandpa Great when they see him in the life beyond this one.

 

So Good They Can't Ignore You

In the past week, I finished reading So Good They Can't Ignore You by Cal Newport.  (Blog:  Study Hacks)  I've read his other books, which I love and want to blog about, but this one book is remarkable and I had to start here.  In the past five days, I've told 15 people about the book, insisting on writing down the title and author for them because I can't imagine their lives without this book!  I ran into a  friend whom I haven't seen for a year, and within two minutes of our saying hello, I was recommending this book as a must read.  Did I find out about the wedding or the new home of my friend?  Sadly, no.  But I made sure that he knew the merits of this absolutely amazing book.  (I'm hoping this story shows just how awesome this book is, rather than pointing towards my sad abilities to re-unite with old friends)

So Good They Can't Ignore You is about learning to work the right way, rather than finding the "right job" or even the "perfect job".  It debunks the theory that you should "follow your passion", thereby creating a job that is blissful and tailor-made.  Instead of constantly seeking for this elusive perfect job, Newport outlines steps to become proficient and well-sought in any field.  It explains the concept "career capital", and how you must build up rare and valuable skills in order to gain control over your work.  The book teaches the importance of enduring strain (something we don't naturally love, but need to experience if we are to gain mastery in any subject/skill).  I could write pages about each of the facets that I loved, thereby writing the book again.  Instead, I'll simply give it this recommendation:  if you have a desire to enjoy your job, and have a purpose in your day-to-day work, you must read this book!

One note:  this book is not written about being a stay-at-home mom.  However, I couldn't help but apply the theories and lessons to my job as a Scholarship Advisory AND my greater work of being a mom.  And in the past week, I've become more excited about my role as a mother, a benefit I didn't foresee.  So, if you are working in a standard "job" or a stay-at-home mom, this book is helpful on both fronts.

Just in case I see you soon, you may want to prepare yourself for this question:  "Have you read So Good They Can't Ignore You?"  Until then, happy reading.

Temple Square #2

Here are more pics of our day at Temple Square.  We met up with my cousin Star, and her kiddos:  Darian and Alani.  Alani is 2 1/2--right in between my girls!  They loved having a cousin their own size to run and play with.

Whenever we go to Temple Square, we get at least one picture of the girls attempting to dive into the fountain.  They are always disappointed that I stop them.  

We have never lived close to our cousins, and we all wish it was otherwise. 

                                        Summer, Star, (Noel in background:-), Me, My Mom

Darian and Star

We love our cousins!

Temple Square

The girls love Temple Square, and I especially love it during May when the tulips are in bloom.  We made a day out of it, and the girls were pretty good sports about having their pictures taken multiple times.  I borrowed my sister's camera (again!), because it is so much better than my own and I love being able to capture their expressions that get blurred with a simple point-and-shoot.

The girls love, love, LOVE the temple!  They call it "Jesus' house".  Noel even walked up the giant stairs on the east side of the temple and knocked on the big doors.  When nothing happened, she said, "Mom--why isn't Jesus opening the door?"  I love her faith and understanding that the temple truly is the 

House of the Lord.  

Every once in awhile, Noel slows down enough to give me sweet hugs, a kiss on the cheek, and says, "You are my mommy...I love my mommy!"  She is very adamant about the "my" part, it must be part of the 3-year old stage claiming your territory and possessions!

The smile that steals my heart!  Juliet is our tenderheart and imp all wrapped into one.  She gives giant hugs, wet kisses, and teases her big sister all day long.  

                                              No child has ever loved rocks more than Juliet.

Grandma Joy helped us all through the afternoon, which is probably why the girls were such good sports about taking so many pictures.  They love her and are always asking for the next adventure with their dear Grandma Joy. 

Finally, Jules just laid down and called the day.  And even then, I had to snap one more picture.  

Swiss Miss

Noel doesn't comply with sitting still and smiling serenely whenever her picture is taken, but she does a great job of showing the many sides to her funny personality.  She is constantly posing!  Hands on her hips, striking a pose, making funny expressions.  And I love how her hair looks like she is hiking above the town of Zermatt!  She is my little Swiss Miss!  (Thanks to Aunt Summer for snapping these fun pictures on Mother's Day)

My Mind's Eye

Sometimes, we think big about a family outing.  We pack the diaper bag, load up the kiddos, and head out for an adventure.  More times than not, we arrive back home exhausted, frustrated, and wondering what we were thinking.  I don't know if it's because our kids are still in the toddler--"I can't do anything by myself" phase, or if we are really bad planners.  But once in awhile, we get things right.  We plan and organize an activity that both girls like, and we love it as well!  The one we loved this past month was Easter.  For the past three years, I've bought egg-coloring kits.  And each Easter, something happened where we couldn't actually dye the eggs.  But this year, things happened so that we were home Saturday night as a family, and we just had a great time.  It turned out exactly as I had seen it in my mind's eye.

 

 The final result:

Be very impressed.

Storytime

                                              These are moments I treasure...

...not just because they are in a contained space...

...but because Noel reads to Juliet...

                                             ...and they both end up laughing.

                                           

Finding the Helpers

We turned on the computer last night after dinner to find a job posting; two hours later, we still sat there, stunned. Not knowing the answer, or even the question to ask.  As we watched video after video, I wanted to see something of hope.  I've never been to the Boston Marathon, and I didn't know anyone running it this year--but I don't think you have to know someone to still feel the pain others are feeling.

Today, I continued to think and pray and feel empty inside.  I called my best friend Mary, and we talked about it.  She had heard a quote by Mr. Rogers on a news program that went like this:

"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers.  You will always find people who are helping." 

It doesn't erase all the pain for the families, but it is a light in the middle of pain.  In the midst of people running away from the bomb blasts, others went to help.  They stayed.  They comforted.  They were the helpers.

I can't help but ask--if I was there, would I be one of the helpers?  And since I am here--will I be a helper where I can?

Support the Good

For the past few months, I've mulled over what role I play in society.  How active should I be in the community?  And--where can I find the time to actually be more active in the community?  In my job, I see many needs--students need tutoring in subjects, mentoring with service projects, and someone to point them in the right direction.  But what is my role?  Is it enough to help an individual student, or should I be doing something more?  Should I be part of a group that fights all the moral decay--or do I do something individually?

One day--I had an eye-opener.  I don't necessary have to fight evil to be doing good; I can actively support good.  I thought this when I was helping students raise funds to go to Girls State and Boys State.  Baking chocolate chip cookies by the dozen doesn't necessarily seem like a ground-shaking movement, but the reality is that one student wouldn't be able to attend without financial help.  A great kid that really loves history, wants to study law, but never had a chance before this year.   Somewhere between putting the chocolate chips in the KitchenAid and standing at a table asking people to buy the cookies--I realized that I need to do more to actively support good.  To help give kids great opportunities that will help them--rather than telling them all about the things they shouldn't do that will get them in trouble.

That's all.  Just a thought about supporting the good.

Goodbye, Snow!

Noel is sad that we finally have grass in our front yard, instead of the 2-feet snow cover we had for several months.  She was happy making snowballs all day long.

On the other hand, Juliet is elated.  Anytime we went outside, she insisted on sitting in a chair, where she couldn't fall into the "wet stuff".  

Scott is in denial--he keeps hoping for one last big snowstorm.  He loves winter more than anyone else I know.  And me?  I'm just excited that I don't have to bundle up the kids in polar snowsuits every time we go to the store.

Bob the Builder

It's funny how 90% of what I say to the girls gets lost in translation and 95% of what I do never gets noticed.  But once in awhile they pay attention, and that is why I'm still hearing "Bob the Builder" referred to as "Jesus".  The full story:

We had planned to go to Salt Lake for Christmas Eve, but a blizzard hit early afternoon.  Suddenly, I was in the middle of making Fettucine Alfredo and planning a nativity scene.  I had been counting on my sister for costumes, my mother as the director and pianist...my job was only to enjoy the production.  But here we were, and not wanting the night to end without reading the Christmas story, I snagged some toys from the girls' rooms and set up a kid-friendly version of Luke 2.  We had some farm animals and a little manger--but no baby, so we used the little "Bob the Builder" figure holding a shovel.  And that is the 5% they noticed.

It's March, and several times a week, they still set up a nativity, and make sure that "Bob the Builder-Jesus" is center stage.  I think I'll start planning for December now.

The "Half-Monte"

I waffled back and forth for the past month--should I sign up for this half-marathon?  Should I wait?  Am I going to regret it?  Am I going to have time to train?  And most importantly:  am I going to be able to eat chocolate while I'm training?  During all this questioning and wondering, Scott was ever-supportive.  He only said, "If you want to enter--go for it."  He's very smart with things like that--he knows to be supportive, without specific directions on what I should do.  On the other hand, if he is not excited a little bit, I'll wonder if I can really do it.  What can I say?  I have a tendency to over-analyze.  Just a bit.

But tonight, I only had 2 hours left before registration went up $10.00.  I'm too cheap to spend ten more dollars because I was slow to commit, so I finally did it.  I'm going to run the Huntsville Half-Marathon, known as the "Half-Monte" in September.  (The full marathon is the "Full Monte"...named for the beginning of the race:  Monte Cristo, not the film).  It's been YEARS since my last major race, and I feel like a beginner all over again.  Well, run or jog, I'm going to cross that finish line.  And that's the big news of my day.  :-)