We’re moving!!!!

Please visit me at my new home on the web were I’ll be sharing the same great stories and random thoughts but with galleries and gagdets galore! Just click on the text and you’ll be back at hoome with mommaSkyla! Thanks!

material and the rest

Our dear friends from Oregon came visiting this past weekend and the time it is taking for our family to recover emotionally from their departure has me thinking a lot about what matters most in this life. The time we had with them was so wonderful and relaxing, just as time spent with old friends should be with late night talks, some debates, and a hike or two thrown in for good measure. Perhaps the most comforting week we have had since leaving Oregon ourselves.

The morning of their departure from Oregon they sent a note saying they were on their way and lots of friends were sending greetings with them. I immediately began to sob when I read those words. Sometimes it is easy to forget what having a large group of people you love and feel supported by feels like. And the fogetting is good. Always thinking about it would make being anywhere but Eugene pretty hard to bear.

When we were in Oregon, we lived in 500 square feet with 3 kids. Kind of crazy. And we had minimal furniture. Our matress was on the floor, our dining table was small despite our large family. When our frieds walked into our new home for the first time they said, “It’s so much bigger. And you have furniture!” It was nice to finally have a large house in which to host friends. A house made more a home by their visit.

And that all got me to thinking. People are always telling us how lucky we are to finally have a house and so much land. To live in such a safe and beautiful place. When I look around me, it’s true. We are suddenly materially blessed in a way we could not have imagined before. But before we were so rich in love and friendship that our little 500 square feet felt like a mansion. I know that all of that love is still there and we are slowly building a friend base here as well, but of course it takes time to develop bonds like we had in Oregon and nothing can replace the easy day to day chats and cups of tea of an in-town companionship. I have one or 2 amazing friends here in town already that I am sure would evoke the same storm of emotion if I were to leave Utah, but I can think of a few handfuls of people I have shed tears over missing since leaving Oregon. My heart can really feel the difference in importance between material wealth and spiritual wealth. We always knew we had it good there with our friends and sense of close knit community. We always said that we wouldn’t trade some of the yeas in that little place for a palace. But boy do I see how right we were now that we’re so far apart from those who have brought us such comfort.

Now our friends have gone home and we have cried many tears. I keep reassuring Hannah jane that over time we will love people here in our new home the way that we love our friends back in Oregon. I think I tell her as much for my self as I do for her. I didn’t realize how lonely I felt until my memory was refreshed on what old friends feel like. We talked about planning a trip back for our own visit, but I think if I am to ever love this placce as I loved that one I shouldn’t visit for a while. A dose of love as big as we would get in Oregon might make it hard to find contentment here. Now I’ve seen it from both sides and let me tell you that a great group of friends beats a great house any day. Hopefully we will soon have both right here in Utah.

happy post-its!

Henry David Thoreau said, “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.” Well, if that don’t stop ya in yer tracks, I don’t know what will. I read on another blog that this is a scary thought. I kind of think it’s uplifting in a way. I mean, a reminder of sorts to let your song out and a little post-it note to your soul saying, “you’re not the only one, Sweeheart.” Quiet desperation is universal, but opening up your heart and letting that song fly across the open space is quite nice as well.

I have spent more time than usual pondering these wise words as I struggle with the ins and outs of Cache Valley living. Trying to teach the kids to be free spirits while feeling a bit tied up in knots over not being what other people seem to need me to be has been a bit of a yoga routine for me as of late. But my dearest friend here in the Valley has this adorable little practice that I have adopted for myself. When something is not what she wants it to be, she writes the situation out on a piece of paper as if it were exactly as she would have it. Then she decorates it with rainbows and flowers and tapes it up someplace wher she can see it often. I know, I know. It sounds a bit too “the Secret” and I admit, that very fact makes my skin crawl but it really seems to workd for her. Seemingly hopeless situations have actually grown to match her colorful, doodled-on statement of life as it should be.

So I ponder, why does this work? My conclusion: when you let that desire out of your thoughts and put it out there, even if no one sees it but you, you are putting energy into the good that you want to make of the world and not just feeling bogged down by what just isn’t right.

I now have little reminders decorated with childlike marker flowers around the house to gently remind me to chill out. That I’m doing great. That the world is still spinning and love is there if you just reach out and grab it. In addition to my little happy thoughts on the wall, I have regular reflection meetings with that sweet doodling friend of mine as well as with Hannah Jane, where we discuss what we’ve been doing (in the community or within our family) that has worked, and how to tweek what hasn’t worked so it can grow into something more. As a result of those meetings, there is officially a small group of people who are planning neighborhood classes and about to begin training to be Jr. Youth animators.

Who knows how long we’ll be able to keep momentum, but I can say for sure that there will be lots of little happy notes on walls all around the valley and that at least a few people will be letting their songs loose.

The New Bug Man

Back in Eugene we had a favorite local musician named Rich Glauber, who ruled the stage with serious bravado and demanded the spotlight. And by that I mean he could frequently be heard hollering from stage, “Hey Lady! Yeah, I’m trying to entertain your kids right here, ya see, and you and your cell phone are stealing my scene!” WHile I could blog all day about his strong arm way of actually charming kids (probably because they delighted in seeing their mom’s disciplined from front and center infront of all of their friends) this is not the point of my story. My kids lovingly called Rich the Bug Man because of his charming song Bizzy Bugs. We couldn’t get enough of it and we sang it all the time. Once we caught him in a parking garage beneath the library and Hannah jane chased after him calling out, “Hey bug man! I’m your biggest fan!” He explained that bug man was not his name and he was late for his gig. Ha ha. He never failed to entertain.

Well, a new little man has taken the name bug man. Hunter, with his most sensitive soul, has become a bug whisperer of sorts. He charms grasshoppers and moths, lady bugs and rolly-polies into his tiny hands with such love. They actually crawl all around him and don’t hop off. It’s so cute. Hannah Jane will beg him to get her a bug because truly no one can woo bugs to the quite like Hunter.

Last wekk we were sitting in front of the AVA waiting for Hannah Jane to get out of camp and Hunter ate a piece of grass. I told him not to eat it because i mighth have chemicals on it. “What kind of chemicals?” he asked. I told him the kind to kill bugs and weeds. “People want to kill bugs!?!?! Like lady bugs???” he asked as the tears immediately elled up in his eyes. I had to rock him in my arms for quite a while to calm him.

The next night at dinner Hannah jane told usthat Hunter had finally succeeded in catching a bee without getting stung. Immediately we cheered for him (he’s bee attempting this feat for quite a time now) only to look over and find his lip quivering and more tears flowing down his cheeks. “What’s wrong, Huner-Roo?” We asked. “The bee died in the cup I was keeping him in and now he’ll never get to make me honey!” he sobbed.

He is such a tender hearted little guy. No bug is uncherrished. He can frequently be found marrying worms, telling rolly-polies not to worry because he’ll get them back to their mommy and daddy bug. In his mind, every bug has a family, and a hobby. This one likes to play hide and seek while that one likes to paint with mud. It’s too sweet.

So move aside, Rich. There’s a new bug man in town. And this one can charm the ees right out of the trees.

The original Bug Man can be found at http://www.richglauber.com/index.html He’s worth every penny!!!!

laptop love/hate

well, I survived a of having no laptop with little permanent damage. I forget what life was like pre-laptop until it is held hostage in the university’s tech lab. Just when I start to reminisce about the good ole days of less artificial connectedness and start making resolutions to limit myself when I get my beloved device back I am struck with a random, seemingly essential question and no good answer for it. I reach for my computer to google my conundrum only to find that alas I have no way of obtaining an answer.

Then I think, what did people do before the internet? What do I do when that baby robin has fallen from its nest and is clawing its way up the tree trunk with little success? Do I help it? Will its momma smell human on it and refuse to feed it or was that just a myth? If it never gets back up there, what do I feed it? Obviously I need google. Right?

Or what about that all important question of how long to cook corn on the cob? I tried it last year when some friends came over and it stunk, and suddenly I have been gifted a bag of corn from a neighbor’s garden. Google time!

So as easy as it is to get online to find the exact locations of Isfahan (or Easfahan as I am told it is spelled now) and get side tracked for a half hour or so on facebook, I suppose the answer is to exercise a bit more self control rather than to give in to the impulse to discard the demon laptop altogether. After all, if I tossed the whole computer what would I do the next time Hunter asked a question like “do butterflies sleep?” I’d have to go back to the days of making up an answer and pretending to know everything. I much prefer saying, “Well, Love, I don’t know. Let’s find out together.”

So here’s to facing down the evils of random internet distractions head on, loving the massive amounts of information out there and vowing to allow myself a good 15 minutes a day to get lost in the social networking world with no guilt.

Small town religion

Man! This small town thing is tough. I though, stupidly, that I had mastered it. That perhaps, with little effort, I had transitioned to life in Smallville with little or no trauma, taking the best it has to offer and leaving the rest for the birds. Then from behind I was blindsided with the reality that sometimes the birds don’t want what you’ve left behind either and whatever that thing is that you thought you could ignore has just come for you in the dark of night.

Everyone here knows everyone’s business. And when you’re a member of a minority faith, everyone is watching to see what you’re doing. You become a sort of ambassador of the faith and your every move is scrutinized. My thoughtful Baha’i friends realize this and behave in a manner that goes above and beyond the call of duty, and I feel compelled to follow their lead on this one. Where once I was inclined to think, “I know I’m doing the right thing and it’s just between me and God, so who cares what anyone else thinks?” I now think, “Well, if they think I’m up to something, even though I’m not, that reflects on the faith.”

And then there’s the matter of right and wrong. That used to be easy. I never imagined a situation where I would actually have no idea what the right path is. But here in LittleTown they have managed to confound me. I can’t believe I have actually sought guidance from the Baha’i chain of command. I really thought that was for tribal communities who had a squabble of the right height at which to hang Abdul Baha’s picture or at least entire grops of Baha’is with serious questions, but here I find myself actually thinking, “I have no idea what to do and my actions in this case could have potentially dire consequences.” When did this happen? Can the small town dynamic actually muck up the clarity of right vs. wrong? Have I lost my mind? My, how simple things used to be.

I have made a decided effort to become a more thoughtful, less reactive person over the last year or so. Of course I fall short often, when the zoo-like nature of running a house with 3 little ones becomes more than I can sanely bear, but I think I’ have improved significantly in my ability to keep myself out of other people’s dramas. But here I find myself inescapably wrapped up in drama that is at the core of an entire community. I suppose sometimes reality makes a house call even when it is not invited.

So I’m a prayin’ and a thinkin’ and a hopin’ that some wisdom is visited on me before I make any moves. Truly, life should be much simpler. I suppose in a small town, life is trickier than big city anonymity no matter your background. Everyone’s watching and comparing notes so it’s best to get a second (and 3rd and 4th) opinion on things.

Good to be a quitter?

So I have this major beef with quitters. Really. I can’t stand the thought of it. My parents always let me quit whatever activity I was in with very little resistance and I grew up not being really great at much of anything. Now, I realize that that’s not that unusual, but I really wish I had stuck it out with something. My distaste for quitting before the end has made it hard for me to handle it when Hannah Jae doesn’t follow through on a project. I get that she is only 5, but she’s a rock brilliant 5 and I don’t want her to develop the habit of quitting when times get tough at such a young age.

But today I had a breakthrough. I saw the light, you might say. We are studying the Maya and one of our projects was to weave a poncho on a home made loom. Hannah Jane was crazy excited about this and she started out wit a bang. But after about 5 minutes her work began to get sloppy, and 20 minutes she had really mangled the whole thing. She said, “Ca I quit?” and I gave her the usual, “If that’s the kind of person you want to be, I suppose.” Horrible, right? But this time she didn’t fall prey to my usual guilt trip. She said, “That’s the kind of kid I am today. I quit. I’ll finish tomorrow.”

As my insides twisted up into knots of quitter rage I had a moment of clarity. “Aren’t you glad you’re not a Maya mother? They had to waeve all of the clothes for their whole family and it takes a long time, doesn’t it?” Her eyes lit up. “Yeah! That wouldn’tbe much fun. I like to be able to weave when I want to, but I also llike to be able to quit when I want to too. I guess they didn’t have much free time, huh?” THe conversation went on to cover why some societies just got by while others developed calendars and musical instruments and great art.

So for today, I am content to quit with Hannah Jane if it means we get a good discussion out of it all. She teaches me far more than I teach her, and it ain’t easy to teach this old dog a new trick like acceptance. And in the end, she did go back to it – a thing which I never did as a child. Perhaps weaving a Mayan poncho is a thing best done in little spurts of working and quitting.

Tethered Wether

This morning I cracked my eyes open to see that it was in fact light outside and then pulled on some sweats to go let the little goaties out of the barn. I gave them the obligatory pat on the back, scratch behind the ears, and a promise of return once my own kids had been fed breakfast. I promptly slid back under the covers and snuggled up to Hannah Banana. Joe walks in all dressed for work and says, “Skyla, why do I hear goat sounds coming from the street?” We looked out and there was Wether, the longest legged pygmy goat known to man, running down the street back towards home. Where had he been? How did he get out? We just spent the last week finding his escape routes and sealing them off.

I threw on my UGGs and ran out to grab him. Much to my surprise, he was happy to see me and didn’t try to make a break for it. I hugged him, picked him up and placed him back within the chain link fenced area. Before I could turn my back he had lept right back over the fence with complete ease and grace.

Sadly, for now he must be tethered until we figure out what to do about this situation. But there was a sunny spot in all of this. It came when our neighbor, Mrs. Murray, came out to meet me at the barn with a big ole smile on her face. What she proceeded to tell me about our Wether man kept us both in stitches for quite a while. The story goes as follows…

Mrs. Murray woke up and opened her blinds to let in the sun when the cries of our goats caught her attention. When she looked out to see if anything was wrong she saw a jogger being shadowed on the other side of the fence by Wether, who has an affinity for chasing joggers back and forth as they pass. But this time, as the jogger continued past the point that Wether could follow he jumped right over and kept following. The jogger stopped for a moment, surprised at her new running companion, and looked puzzled as to what to do. Mrs. Murray says that he jogger tried to put him back in the fence but couldn’t get the gate open. After a moment she decided that he wasn’t worth the trouble and she jogged on. Maybe that’s where he was coming back from when I found him on the street.

I can only imaging being a jogger who suddenly finds herself trailed by someone’s goat. I’m giggling just typing the story. Mrs. Murray said she stood there quite a while deciding what to do. She knew exactly where he came from, but when she couldn’t get him back in she just jogged on. Had it been me, I would probably have at least knocked on the door, but she had already lost enough time. I wonder how far he trailed her before he came home. I think tomorrow I might just let him off his leash for that window of time and watch to see what happens. Mrs. Murray says she’s keeping he camera handy so she can make some money off of a video of my little jogger stalking goat!

Missionary Update

So we’ve met with he LDS missionaries twice now, and it has been a very enjoyable experience. It’s always fun to talk religion and share the Baha’i beliefs with people who initially said, “Whats that?” And the young men who come are sweet guys who are kindly willing to entertain our questions. It is impressive the steadfastness these guys demonstrate in their faith. We always said that if we were to choose a faith based upon the quality of people in it, we’d be either Mormon or Baha’i. Funny that one of us took that joke a step farther

Joe, not a Baha’i, has always said that he could see how one could come to the Baha’i Faith through the Mormon writings. I never really looked into it much, but now that I have, I can see it. The prophecy that Joseph Smith set forth about “the 2 to come in rapid succession” and the dates of their arrivals are so crazy accurate if you’re looking back on it from a Baha’i perspective. and Joe really gets in there and explains the Baha’i perspective with eloquence and passion. He is quite the persuasive speaker. Every time they leave I look at him and ask, “Did you mean what you said? So, why is it again that you aren’t Baha’i? “

So tonight they began with the question, “DO you believe, based upon what we previously discussed, that Joseph Smith could have been correct?” I am quite positive that they’ve never had someone respond with, “I’m pretty sure he was right, and I’m pretty sure his prophecy has already been fufilled.” They were unshaken, though. I politely asked, “Are you watching for one to come? What do you make of these prophecies?” There were some verbal gymnastics (this was the only time I felt like there was a stretch from the obvious meaning of what was written) and said that they were in fact not awaiting anyone. I can handle that.

It’s so great to have these guys over and feel a bit pressed to back up my beliefs. Don’t you always feel like answering questions about your faith calls you into understanding your own beliefs in a more concrete way? I hope our unwillingness to bend in the “there’s not one true church” department isn’t too frustrating for them. My feeling is that we will entertain missionaries weekly for life. Every 6 weeks we’ll get a new pair and when we’re 80 those young fellas will still be coming to take a whack at that one stubborn family in the 3rd ward. We’ll love it every time. What a surprising blessing this is turning out to be.

Kindergarten gone by

We didn’t sit down and map out a plan that would take up a year. We had one boxed curriculum, Saxon math, and figured that when it was all used up we would have done a year’s worth of work in every subject. Here we are, just a few months in and the kit is all done. I didn’t really see it coming. There are so many extra pages at the back of the book for copying and assessments that I just assumed we had quite a way to go. Sure enough, Hannah Jane breezed right through it at hyper speed with all of the content mastered and I’ve got nothing ordered to follow it up with.

I guess we’ll just use this lag time while we are waiting for her first grade kit to show up to focus in on reading and phonics. She’s not a big fan of the reading side of life, which kind of stinks for her because I have a trivium style schooling in store for her. My theory is that the things that don’t come naturally to us are the things we must focus in on. Don’t get me wrong. She can read. She just never sits down with a book and tries to read to herself. She is quite comfortable curling up in a lap and demanding a story be read instead.

Anyway, Kindergarten was kind of haphazard. It went a little something like this: Oh, you like chemical reactions that make little explosions? Okay. We’ll do that for a week. You think it would be cooler with food coloring? Okey dokey! You’re right. Those crystal are pretty. Let’s grow our own! Blah blah blah microscopes, ant farms, and Alice in Wonderland. Blah blah blah rail road museum, mushroom hunts, VanGogh. All in all I think we lightly touched on most everything you might need for kindergarten. I was never a big kindergarten fan anyway.

The only regularity was Saxon math and what we call spirit work. This consisted of memorizing Baha’i prayers and reading about Baha’u’llah and Abdul Baha from the Central Figures Book 1. Let me tell you…this girl loves to memorize prayers! It was her goal to recite a different one each Sunday, but she ran out of short ones and made her new goal to dazzle people with one incredibly long one by the end of the semester. She has officially replaced her shallow desire to be told how cute she is with an equally shallow, but somehow more acceptable, desire to be told what a prayer whiz she is.

So, I guess this is so long kindergarten! It was fun. Now it’s time to put the nose to the grindstone and get serious about this academic stuff! Ancient History, here we come!

And now for a little look back…

 

 

Crafts for detatchment

With kindergarten behind us, we’re ready to tackle more serious work head on. And by more serious work I mean the fine art of paper mache pyramids and salt dough map making. Yup! We’re throwing ourselves waist deep into Ancient Egypt! As prescribed by the classical trivium framework, ancient times come first. You know I never do anything half way, so we are living in Egypt within the Eugene city limits right now.

We are still waiting to hear back about the prospects of the Utah job that Joe interviewed for and I am so overcome with thoughts of moving and a new town that the only way I have found to distract myself is to wallow in Egyptian arts and crafts. The need to distract myself has really made me the home school mom that I always wanted to be. No activity has gone unexplored. We have painted our names in hieroglyphs with home made berry pigment, made Egyptian wigs from black yarn, and little clay soul houses. Poor Barbie even got mummified.  Heck! I even started this blog. All in the name of keeping too busy to think.

Baha’i friends have suggested prayers, the tablet of Ahmad and the like, while we live in job limbo. They say things like, “We cannot change God’s plan. You must not worry.” The fact is, I am not that enlightened yet and I do worry. And while I have recited the tablet of Ahmad a time or ten, I have also found that arts and crafts make for an excellent distraction. Who knows? Maybe this thematic unit was Gods funny little answer to my prayers. Maybe I’ll go on to write a self help book that supplements prayers for detachment with wicked cool decoupage and clay projects! Stranger things have happened. Right? Well, maybe not.

Anyway, there won’t always be accompanying photos, but here’s a little sample of our Egypt-mania thus far.

 

Laments of a new Baha’i

So it’s an interesting experience. You know, completely overhauling your religion, making the “hey, Dad…I’m not a Christian anymore” phone call, figuring out how to wash my face for obligatory prayers at noon but not have to apply my make-up twice in a day (figure that one out) and all of the little details that come along with conversion. Now let’s add a great big cherry on the I’m way outside my comfort zone sundae and mention that we’re moving to a relatively non-Baha’i city in 2 weeks.

I feel like running and hiding under the bed like a toddler. But here I am, an adult with 3 kiddos looking to me to set the tone. So I can’t run and hide. I have to move out there and do what I can do. Carve out a little niche in the snowy homeland of the Mormon faith for my newly Baha’i self and family.

I keep hearing, “Oh, how exciting! You’ll be a home front pioneer!” It’s kind, but let’s get real. Everyone knows that I’ve been a Baha’i for a split second. I am in no position to teach anyone anything. My heart says let’s go out there and share this news with anyone who will listen! Let’s make things happen! But then I feel like, how arrogant could I be to think that I am going to change anything? I feel like if I look to gung-ho the seasoned Baha’is will look at me and think I am totally self righteous.

It’s hard to find the confidence to face this kind of challenge head on and be humble in appearance at the same time. When I say things like, “I’m going to Utah with a stack of enrollment cards in my pocket,” I can just sense people thinking that I am either naive or arrogant. I mean, if anyone could look into my heart they would see that I feel like the most blessed and unworthy soul on the planet. But at the same time, if I approach someone and look as pitiful as I sometimes feel, I definitely won’t be a shining lamp or a brilliant star. It’s almost like I have to do a macho, pound my fists on my chest while I look in the mirror thing and give myself a little, “You looking at me? Huh? Or are you looking at my 9 pointed star? That’s right, baby. Now let’s get down to business and talk Baha’u’llah,” sort of wacky pep talk. Hey! You do what you gotta’ do to get through the day.

In the end, I admit that my motives are still not so pure. I really want to talk to people about Baha’u’llah because I don’t want to be a lone Baha’i off in the baron Utah wilderness. And if people just had the chance to hear this, I know they’d ask where to sign up. I like being surrounded by people who want to sit around and discuss Abdul Baha’s happy eyes and who will exchange handy tips on Anna’s presentation with me. And if the only way to have that is to work outside my comfort zone and really be out there with my faith for a while so that people catch on, well then that’s what I plan to do.

I guess I just hope that God doesn’t mind me selfishly wanting to spread the word and sends divine assistance my way anyway. Heaven knows, I need it!

Motherhood and the cord of refinement

A few nights ago I co-hosted the Day of the Covenant celebration at the Baha’i center and had to read several paragraphs in a little presentation with 2 other women. My Hunter always stays with me during these things and so I was holding him while I read my parts. He started arching his back to be let down and so I dropped him down and kept reading. I looked up and saw a look on some friends’ faces that pretty much just said, “Uh…you need to look down.” I looked and saw Hunter running his tongue back and forth across the top of a chair at the front of the room. I gently pulled his head back, trying not to loose my place. Then he started picking is nose. I leaned down and pushed his hand away from his face so he just used his other hand. I thought I was going to die. I’m trying to read to 30+ people in low light while continually pulling Hunter’s finger out of his nose and trying to keep his mouth off of the furniture. We got plenty of snickers and giggles.

That is about as accurate of a snapshot of my life as you can find. It has all the necessary components: multiple gross out factors like boogers and chair licking, complete lack of reverence, and finally a kind but giggling group of onlookers. The glamour of my life is overwhelming.

I keep thinking back to the verse in the Kitab-I-Aqdas that says “Cleave ye unto the cord of refinement with such tenacity as to allow no trace of dirt to be seen upon your garments. Such is the injunction of One Who is sanctified above all refinement.” and just think of how long it has been since I have left the house without someone’s greasy fingerprints on my pants or snot on my shoulder. I am falling way short here. I read on to the part that says, “Whoso falleth short of this standard with good reason shall incur no blame.” I wonder, what is good reason? Motherhood, the oldest occupation on the planet, isn’t really a great excuse. Right?

Oh well. Some days I do the best I can. Others I could probably do more. But I am NEVER in spot-free clothes!

portland UHJ conference

I suppose I took a little reprieve from this new little blog for the purposes of packing boxes and that small little Baha’i conference. You know, that tiny little gathering that only 2,600 people came to? Yeah, I was one of those folks. And let me say, it was wonderful!

Joe, bless is heart, packed moving boxes, shampooed carpet, and had a hitch installed on the van all while watching the 3 kids by himself. Can you believe it? What a man! Jealous yet, ladies? I know, I am a blessed woman. When Joe heard about the conference he said, “You have to go to this!” while I was whining about leaving the kids. Finding out that we were moving 3 days after the conference made us second guess my involvement, but Joe seems to have managed quite well.

Portland was quite an event. Every single speaker was inspiring, every face was welcoming, and each moment was fully utilized. It was a little crazy to be in what was perhaps the largest room I have ever been in and know that every person my eyes landed on had the same religion as me. Since becoming a Baha’i I haven’t been in a room with 50 people who shared my beliefs. Well, if I’m being honest, I’ve probably never been in a room with 50 people who shared my beliefs. Admittedly I never really had mainstream views. Anyway, it was a little overwhelming.

A big part of the weekend for me was deciding to go to the Utah workshop instead of the Eugene one. I knew I would find my future neighbors there and I thought it would b good to assess what I was walking into, but I had no idea how emotional it would be for me. The Eugene people were to stay in the ballroom while people from other regions were going to other workshop rooms. It was like a scene in a movie when the person dies and the path to heaven is lined with all the people they’ve known in their life. I had been sitting close to the front so I had to walk the path to the back of the room and along the way the aisle seemed to be lined with friends asking, “Are you going to the Utah workshop? I guess it’s best. We’ll miss you. Go get ‘em!” Each person had a kind word and by the time I reached the door I was a mess. I had to take a detour to the ladies room to cry in a stall for a few minutes before moving on.

I got to my room and met with many kind faces and even located 3 people from Logan. My hopes are that this conference came at a perfect time with respects to our move. Hopefully they will view my eagerness in the context of the great energy from this gathering and not view me as the nutty, naive new girl who is annoyingly ambitious.

Memories of Utopia

Tonight was the last time in my life that I would ever lay a baby of my own down for bed in the Westmoreland complex. I got choked up singing Haven down but quickly regained stability. We have lived so much life here. When it was University housing, it was this heavenly utopian kind of community where all of our neighbors were from different countries with different accents. We were all pregnant together and all parented each others’ kids together, raising them in a wonderland of cultural diversity and love. Many days around fourish, there was an impromptu gathering as moms felt the need to get out of doors with the little ones as they awaited the arrival of the dad’s home from University. Slowly the dads arrived and took over this pack-like rough and tumble play with the toddler sized kiddos while the moms would gather around a picnic table to nurse babies and catch up on the latest accomplishments of our little angels. There were community breakfasts and courtyard potlucks. No mansion could feel as good as our 500 sq feet of Westmoreland communal bliss.

Then came the news we were being sold. The University needed the cash and we were the chosen avenue. We protested, hob-knobbed with every politician out there (pre-Baha’i days!!!) and appeared on every news show in town. I happened to be the only native English speaker around during the days so frequently Bing Li would knock on my door and ask me to dress up Hannah Jane, grab my best maternity shirt, and get out there to speak to the journalists. It was exhausting, as I personally did every channel and many radio things. To this day I’ll see someone in the grocery line and they’ll ask, “Hey! Did they sell your home? Have you really had 2 more kids since then?” It’s kind of embarrasing really. I mean, it is a totally misleading snapshot of my life. I look like a hippie protesting type, which I totally am not. I just really loved this property and felt like it was such a safe haven for student families.

The truth is, since the sale those years ago the place has gone way down hill and lost its unique charm. They kicked out all of the remaining students. We lucked out and fell into a loop hole. (read that article: http://media.www.dailyemerald.com/media/storage/paper859/news/2008/07/15/News/Westmoreland.30.Days.To.Vacate-3390482.shtml) All the bad stuff that has multiplied since new ownership has taken over makes this transition a bit easier to swallow. But still, the memories of what this place was, of what is possible when people come together and take care of one another and their families, of the true beauty of a diverse community, slip in and make me tearfully happy.

Goodnight, Westmorelanders!

neighborhood reunion

Hannah and Joe at the protest

Journey to Utah

We made the long journey over miles of alternating expanses of nothingness and snowy mountain ranges. Day one was a success. We finished packing up the U-Haul, dropped Joe by the lab for one last 20 minute stretch of work, and then off we went. There were cries of pain from Hannah Jane as we left the apartment and she didn’t recover for quite a while. The boys were perfectly fine, as I suppose they had no clue what was going on. Although, Hunter did say, “We go live in Udahh now?” and seemed perfectly content with the idea of never returning.

We drove until midnight before we retired at a Hampton Inn. The kids were so excited to be in a hotel. They had trouble going back to sleep, but we firmly laid down the law and eventually all was silent. In the morning, Joe had promised Hannah that she could get in the pool before we pulled out. He ran across the street to the Wal-Mart and returned with PJs for everyone to swim in (suits are hard to find in December) and we all trotted down to the pool. Joe thought that they could splash around on the steps of the pool for 15 minutes or so and that we wouldn’t have to get in. I had my suspicions, but I was trying to be as positive as possible. He decided to leave me there sitting by the steps and grab some coffee while the kids were splashing. Seconds later, Haven just belly flopped off of the steps and was flailing down first in the water. I had to jump in and save him, fully dressed in the only clothes I had that were not in the U-Haul. Joe returns just in time to see me rising out of the pool holding a screaming baby. I had to hit Wal-Mart for myself to buy some dry clothes and shoes for the day and you can imagine how biting the chill is of waddling through a parking lot in Idaho in December while wearing soaking wet clothes and shoes.

On a high note, Hunter decided that today was the day to use the potty. All those books about not potty training during times of change and Hunter asks to go on the big toilet in the hotel. Now, I’m not holding my breath for him to do it again, but it was quite a surprise.

We were off on day 2 of the drive with dry clothes on and swimming pool trauma behind us. Today the kids were totally over the driving. Haven screamed for a good 2 hours without stopping – even with a constant flow of snacks and with me blowing bubbles into the back seat (thanks Jen). The hours were long today and most of what we passed all looked the same.

Finally, we approached mountains that no longer looked like massive, lumpy, brown stuffed toys and were now jagged and snow capped. They took my breath away. Joe said that we would live just on the other side of those mountains. Slowly we dropped down into a little valley and there was the most beautiful land. There we little ponds with ice and snow around the edge, and in the still water of the center you could see a perfect reflection of the broken snow peaks high above.

The town itself leaves something to be desired. The part that I have seen, which is admittedly little, looks kind of typical struggling small town. It does have a wonderful Main Street that is actually still used and busy, if you can believe it. That in itself if quite charming. Our town home, which we have for almost 4 months, is beautiful and much larger than we are accustomed to. Even though it is in what I would call Apartment Central where you can see rental units every which way you look, there are these gorgeous mountains all around.

When the sun set on those snowy mountains and set them aglow with pink and orange fire, I just felt like we had moved to the most blessed place on earth. Just imagine 365 degrees of mountain ranges. On one side they are reflecting the vivid pastels of sunset and on the other side they are dark outlines against a brilliant pink sky.

The last thing that really struck me is how quiet it is. I mean, we’re in a city and cars are passing and all of that, but it’s almost like the sound just keeps going out into this vast sky and never comes back. It’s almost X-files creepy how quiet it can be here. Although, I’m sure Haven will take care of that soon enough.

Goodnight, Utah!

Uhh…that’s life!

Our first full day in Utah was kind of rough. We couldn’t park our van in our garage the night before because we still had the U-haul attached, so we parked in visitor parking. The next morning when I looked out the window I could see that there was some kind of notice on our window. When I went out I could see that it was more than a notice. It was boots. Not just one boot. No, they put a boot on every wheel of the van and the U-haul. They went boot crazy! And the note was to let us know who to pay our 70 bucks to if we ever wanted to drive again. Am I the only one who thinks that this is an extreme first action? No notice or ticket? Straight to boots?

They guy who came to take it off was super nice and told us that even though he wasn’t allowed to let us off the hook since we had already been booted, if we’d just call him next time he’d take care of us. Anytime we wanted to park some place odd anywhere in the city limits, just call him first and he’d cover us. That’s when we got our first hint of “the club.” Yup. It seems that there are hundreds of little clubs here and if you are in them, you get away with little infractions here and there and if you are not… well, you must pay. More on that later. He went on to tell us where to go for good kid’s skiing and his favorite this and that, and that we were now in his club.

Once we got that taken care of, it was off to buy some big ticket items, of which we had none. It was during our visit to Lowes to get a washer and dryer that it became appearant that the kids were not going to make this easy. They were splitting up and pushing buttons and pulling levers. Haven was screaming and arching his back. We couldn’t even think straight enough to consider load sizes and Energy Star ratings. Finally I just told Joe to make the decision himself while I took the animals back to the car. He did well for a laundry novice.

After that, we just took turns going into furniture stores while the other one sat in the van with the kids. Then we’d trade and talk about what we liked via cell phone. Let me tell you,this is no way to pick home furnishings. At the last place, Joe went in first and came back out smiling saying this was the place. I was less impressed, but agreed to get the kids out of the car so we could all look together at what he was so excited about. That’s when he lockedour keys in the van.

Geico didn’t have an affiliate locksmith in Logan so the process took a little over and hour. Yup. We finally had all the time we needed to converse over micofiber vs. leather, sleigh bed vs. posts, pillow top vs. air spring. Hannah made instant friends with the furniture guy (shock) and they were whispering secrets and giggling. So I guess it was Hannah who got us into our second club. We got lots of discounts, delivery by some friends of theirs who were happy to help out (since we were in the club and all) and even a loaner bed while we wait for the one we liked to come in. By the time we had our keys back, we had dropped some cash and furnished everything but the living room.

We went back to a place that carried the agreed upon sofa set. We weren’t in their club and weren’t willing to pay for delivery since we still had the U-haul so we went to the warehouse to pick it up. We got it home and realized that the sofa and couch were slightly different-one glossy and one matte. Unfortunately the store was closed for the rest of the weekend so we had to spend the rest of the day trying to keep our team of little monkeys off of the matte sofa so we could have it switched out on Monday.

Anyway, at the end of the day we have had 2 vehicle related major delays and still no actual furniture to sit on. Oh well, tomorrow will be better!

Civil War Letter for a Baha’i

Hannah Jane, who never ceases to surprise me with her insights and questions, started asking about slavery after talking about Abraham Lincoln (with whom she has been a bit obsessed since she was 2). She was concerned about men leaving their families to go to war, and why would they risk dying and never seeing their kids over anything? I pulled out the Sullivan Ballou letter on the PBS Civil War series soundtrack which I had used in the past for my 7th graders in Murfreesboro. She thoughtfully listened to it about 5 times, closing her eyes as she listened.

When finally she opened her eyes she asked, “Is that how we’re supposed to feel about being Baha’i?” This took me off guard, but we got to talking. I won’t go any further into her sweet little insights and connections, which were many, but I will say that they got me thinking.

If you haven’t heard the letter, now’s the time…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7aj7Qh1Uu3w

Now that you’re all caught up, I’ll go on.

I started thinking about being Baha’i and these powerful words of Sullivan Ballou. As new Baha’i in Ruhi book 4, I often wondered if God really ever wants people to be away from their children. Isn’t being there to guide and comfort your children the greatest task? Would God really ever want these early seekers like the Letters of the Living to abandon their families for this mission? Truthfully, my first response was always, “Of course not! What is worth leaving your family for?”

But when I hear this letter I easily tell Hannah Jane of how there are causes greater than any one person or family that are worth so much more. Why, I wonder, was it so easy for me to see the end of slavery as a mission so worthy, but so hard to view the end of spiritual slavery as such a worthy cause? I suppose the answer is that it took a while for true belief and willingness to take root in my heart.

The result? Well, when next that question is asked (which it often is in our home) of whether God would really want a man to leave his family for such a thing, I have an answer. Or really more of a question. Is anything worthy of that sacrifice? Like the end of slavery, perhaps? Yes? Well, then wouldn’t bringing God’s divine prescription to ailing souls rank right up there?

Just a thought. Hannah Jane always pushes me to think outside my own little perspective. It’s not easy having a 5 year old who is more insightful than myself.

How would that letter read for us? Here’s what we came up with (if we may plagiarize slightly)…

We have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which we are engaged, and our courage does not halt or falter. We know how strongly World Civilization now leans on the triumph of God’s love, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of this spiritual revolution. And we are willing – perfectly willing – to lay down all our joys in this life, to help maintain this cause, and to pay that debt.

Joe, our love for you is deathless, it seems to bind us to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet our love of God comes over us like a strong wind and bears us irresistibly on, with all these chains, to teach the words of God…

There’s more, but you get the point.

What a wonderful, accidental teaching moment for my kiddos (and my self). Hannah Jane took to the words of this letter and what her letter would read like in a way I’ve never seen her take to any planned lesson. I didn’t really teach her anything, but just answered her questions and let her guide us through. 2 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches later and she was still talking about what causes are worth this. We came up with a very short list and went on to talk about putting ourselves in other people’s positions and how their lists might be different from ours.

What a great way to spend a snowy morning!

Update on our progress

Hi friends and family!

We’re almost settled now. Joe loves his job, the kids love the extra space and the snow, and I will love getting back into a routine. The process of scheduling various pick ups and drop offs of furniture, paperwork, and spouses has left me a little less organized than usual. Add to that the lack of phone lines here in our complex and people’s unwillingness to call a long distance cell phone to make business arrangements and we’re talking serious chaos. Fortunately, we are now Skype users and have and actuall phone number through that service! Yay! Answering your computer instead of your phone is kind of fun.

The snow is crazy beautiful. There was virtually none the day we arrived, but boy oh boy has it snowed every day since. This morning I woke up and thought, “I can see roof tops today and the sun is out. This will be the day this all calms down.” We went into ShopKo for 30 min and when we came out it was a white out outside. Seriously. I am wandering through a parking lot with the kids and I can’t even see the car until we are about 3 feet away. Each car I get a visual on, I am like, “Not mine, not mine…Yes!” It’s such a fun adventure.

We have living room furniture – finally! The furniture guys left about an hour ago from finally swapping out the wrong couch for us. It took them an entire week, and when they showed up they had brought a love seat instead of a couch. I felt bad about sending them back out into the blizzard like conditions, but my sympathy is admittedly a bit short after a week of trying to keep the kids off of the wrong couch.

The rest of the place is still basically empty. We have a loaner bed frame and mattress and that’s it. It should all be here by mid next week. I hope that will help tings feel a little more like home. Joe says it feels like we’re in a museum te way our voices bounce off the empty walls.

I had the thought of what will I do with my time once we are actually all settled. Then I remembered, hey! We home school! Yeah, schooling has fallen by the wayside. I just keep telling myself that most kids get a winter break from school. This is ours. I’ve given Hannah Jane fair warning that as soon as we have a table, it’s back to the books!

I was troubled about going ahead with a literature based curriculum in a town whose library shares a building about a third of the size of Eugene’s library with small claims court and the utility board. But alas, a literary saviour has offered us an unexpected blessing. Joe’s USU ID card gives us access to what I’m told is a book collection second in size only to the Library of Congress. Now, I don’t know if I believe that statistic, but I am chomping at the bits to get there and see it in all of its glory!

That’s about it for now. Oh, wait! Hannah Jane lost her first tooth on Monday! Yup. That’s all. When there’s more news on the homefront, I’ll let you know. If you haen’t already, scroll down to “Journey to Utah” and check out our travel pictures!

A Different Kind of Christmas!

Well, Christmas was a little different this year. By the time we got to Utah, all of the good trees were gone and we went with a little developmentally challenged fellow. But he dressed up nicely and we put him in a moving box on a table and went with a moving themed Christmas. I actually didn’t miss the huge guy in the corner shedding needles all over the rug and being repeatedly knocked over by the baby as much as I thought I would.

That wasn’t the only difference. There was a marked change in Christmas Eve musical choices as Hannah Jane took an empty wrapping paper tube and belted out “Serve mankind, follow me, be as I am…Abdul Baha…Abdul Baha…” and Joe looks at me like maybe this wasn’t what he had imagined our Christmases to be like before we got married. Who could have predicted he would become Santa Clause to a small herd of Baha’i children? It was hard to see coming. Well, I guess it shouldn’t have been too much of a shock considering all of those mixed up childhood pictures documenting me lighting the menorah in front of the nativity scene.

Anyway, the mix of Little Drummer Boy and Justice is the Way has really added a little flare to our holiday season. And when we talked about baking the annual birthday cake for Baby Jesus, Hunter asked, “And Baha’u'llah’s birthday cake?” And those of you who have heard him say it know it sounds a bit more like, “And Baha’u'lla birday-day?” It’s totally hilarious!

So from this religious mutt, to all of you out there, Merry Christmikkah and a happy next feast!

invention crazy

So Joe’s new job involves patenting inventions for the university and so there is a lot of talk about things like intellectual property and immenant domain at the dinner table. The unanticipated result of all of this is that our kids have gone invention crazy. Hannah Jane has a few new inventions each day and asks Joe to fill out the necessary paper work for things like her “Poka Machine” which does EVERYTHING! If you’re bored you can pull a lever and it will produce a pencil and paper for you. If you’re thirsty just push a button and out will come some coa coa. Anything you want, this machine can do. Joe filled out an invention disclosure for her poka machine and posted it on his office door at work. Hannah Jane loves to hear stories about how many people stopped in to tell hiim how cute it was.

Today when we picked him up so he could take the van to the University to discuss and invention disclosure with a professor, Hannah Jane asked Joe if he had come up with any of his own inventions. He said no, that he counted on the professors to do the creative work for him and he handled the technical stuff for them. She said, “I’ll give you an idea and you can call it your own. Okay?” then Hunter chimed in with, “I gotta ivinton for ooh. It make pickles!” We all laughed! Hunter is very proud to be the brilliant mind behind pickles. If you love them, now you know who to thank!

Long story short, we have gone invention crazy around here! We pass the time thinking up cool machines for Joe to patent. In the end, they all prettty much do everyhting (little people aren’t so good at limiting themselves – they haven’t been beaten down by the world yet) and so there’s never really a need for another invention since our first one pretty much does it all. But that has never stopped the think tank from cranking out their world changing ideas. It’s a real innovative home these days!

Good to meet you

So after meeting some of my new community at feast the other night, I decided to go ahead and bring the whole crew to devotions. It was decidedly a risk because devotions are at 11:30 and that falls somewhere between right in the middle of nap time and lunch time for my guys. So here’s how it went…

We come in and as we are taking off our coats and shoes I do some introductions. When Tom asks Hunter his name, he replies, “I got snot.” Luckily Hunter is still a bit hard to understand and it passed unnoticed by everyone but Joe and me. We all hung out in the basement with the kitty and the Guitar Hero drum set while we waited for anyone else to show up. Tom politely pretended not to notice as the kids chased the cat with drumsticks and measured his door ways (we’ve toured a lot of prospective homes this week) as if we were moving in. Finally we decided that we were gonna be it this week and so we went upstairs to get started. Tom tossed a stack of Baha’i books and a Bible in the floor and said, “Grab one and find something to read.” Just as we all grabbed a book, Tom’s daughter and her friend walked in.

Liz, his daughter, has an amazing voice and picked up a guitar and proceeded to angelically play and sing a prayer. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. And Hunter’s response? He fell face first on the floor in the middle of the room and laid there with his hands over his head. Hannah then said, “Those aren’t the actual words to that prayer.” Okay, I was beyond red faced as Katheryn proceeded to tell us that we don’t have Baha’u'llah’s exact words, that it’s a translation from the Persian, and what matters is your heart as you pray. Rather than express my own views on the topic I try to redeem our family’s image as we sat in these kind people’s living room by just smiling and nodding.

Just then a timer dinged and we all jumped up, “Bread’s ready!!!” and escaped the awkward situation created by my less than tactful kiddos (gee, I wonder where they get that from?). Bread was good. Fellowship was good.

We are going to have dinner there next weekend with a bunch of geology professors with kids. Let’s just hope it goes a little smoother or that the other kids have as little tact as mine. My luck is about 50/50 considering that 5 year olds are generally known to be brutally honest.

facebook, thou art mine enemy!!!!

There are lots of things that could have made me feel old by now. Joe’s insistence on referring to the kids’ ages not in years but in years left before we lose them forever, that cracking sound in my knees as I fumble through a pilates lesson, or the fact that I don’t understand half of what is said on Mtv. But none of this phased me. What finally did it? Facebook! Dun-dun-duhhhh!!!
Fear of becoming technologically challenged ranks right up there with fear of being kidnapped by a toothless mountain man and being stored under his barn for 10 years.
I think of Joe’s parents, who at one point didn’t use their oven for 8 months because the cat walked across the controls and they couldn’t figure out how to reprogram it. At another time they didn’t watch satellite tv (but they did pay for it) for almost a year because they were waiting for Joe to visit and teach them how to use the remote. Jan still can’t answer her cell phone when it rings.
What happens when the kids are tech-savvy and I have no clue what they are up to in their computer, or phones, or whatever other technology has come out by then (thanks, Natalie for giving me more to worry about with that Youtube clip)? Shirine started me worrying about this topic when she commented on my complete inability to text message with my thumbs. I’ve been working on my thumb dexterity ever since.

I must conquer Facebook. I must. The very future of my children’s safety depends on it. If I can’t keep up with the times the odds are good that someday, not so far away, a grown man will show up at the door to pick up 14 year old Hannah Jane and when I say no way, she’ll inform me that I can’t stop her from leaving with her husband, and yes, mom, you can get married on-line now to people you have only met in chat rooms. And, yes, mom, he did look younger in his picture. Ahhhh!!!! The fear of it all!!! I must conquer Facebook!

Smurf Diversity

The other morning, as Hannah Jane stood on a stool in front of the mirror to have her hair done, she said, “Man! I am getting pale like you, Momma!” I kind of smiled and said she was my girl so she might be paper white like I am. She paused and said, “I’m gonna’ look like a Smurf.” Huh? I wondered what she meant by that. “I’ll be so pale I’ll look like a Smurf.” I told her that Smurfs are blue and she followed with, “What?!?! All Smurfs are blue? You mean there’s no diversity? Oh, how sad!”

Crack me up! We’re talking about a 5 year old here, and she is all torn up that an imaginary breed of whatever Smurfs are has no variety of skin tone. We were happy to hear this, considering we now live in a fairly non-diverse town. I suppose as long as she keeps caring about cartoon diversity, we know she hasn’t been too ill effected by our living here. And Joe says it’s evidence that the Baha’is have worked their happy magic on her (whatever that means).

Hunter walked in on the discussion and immediately said, “I diverse too! I am diverse!” and gave a little stomp of his foot for emphasis. He, being 2, obviously doesn’t get what it means but I am so in love with hearing such big, caring words come out of such little mouths that it doesn’t matter. It melts my heart.

Legacy House

Well, the Logan youth really worked some magic last night. At some point, before I got to town, they had decided that it was time to serve their community and settle on a time and date. When I was told, I set about finding someone that needed volunteers at 7:00 on a Friday night. I hesitated to drag a group of teenagers and 20 somethings to an assisted living facility, thinking this was not edgy enough to capture their interest. But Barb knew better and said we should just give it a go.

I got to Barb’s and we started to wonder if we’d be alone in this with her kids. And as I prepared myself to face the staff at the home with almost no young people, they just began streaming in. Now the kitchen was filled with a vibrant mix personalities playing with the pets, gathering around Liz as she sang and strummed an angelic tune, and just generally emanating the white noise that you expect to hear when you are in the almost electric presence of young people.

We piled into cars and headed out. Knowing that we were headed for the Alzheimer’s ward, conversation turned to what life must be like for these people and what we could expect to see when we arrived. Once there, these guys just immediately connected with these folks.

The people we were with ran the spectrum from not being able to speak a word that we could understand to speaking clearly but not knowing their own name. The young people sang and swayed as Liz worked some more of her musical magic. Clarissa twirled around in her tutu and the ladies just went on and on about how “fancy that young thing is.” I painted some toe nails and took pictures. Barb connected with one sweet woman who connected with Clarissa’s purse. She sat there and rubbed this shiny purse that was woven from old candy wrappers. I worried that she wouldn’t willingly part with it when we left, but she smiled and handed it over. One lady confided in me that she had not yet decided if she wanted children of her own. In her mind she had a lot of life left in her.

As we started to say our good-byes several people asked if we’d come back. A woman who hadn’t said a clear word the whole time suddenly said, “Where you goin’?” I told her we had promised to take these kids bowling and she just grumbled, “Hmmff!” Jim had a fan and the woman followed him right to the door.

As we left several people said, “Are we allowed to come back? When can we?” Yay!!! Success!!! Now it was time to move on to the lighter matter of bowling.

At the bowling alley the exchange student from Jordan suddenly realized she was surrounded by “what? Baha’is?” She was curious, and a bit startled I believe, and had lots of questions. When we dropped her off she said she wanted to come with us if we went to the home again.

I think everyone had a ball. This was a great way to kick off the new course we’ll be starting on Sunday. Hopefully, we can eventually pull a crowd for that too!

Big Day!

Alright, so there’s the obvious reason that this is a big day for everyone (uhh…the presidential thing) and then there’s an additional reason for the Christison crew. While being all wrapped up in the CNN hoopla of swearing in our first African American president, Hunter sat on his potty. Mesmerized by the crowd and all of the excitement, he didn’t mind sitting on the potty for an unusual length of time. I suppose he forgot he was there. This led to his first entirely diaper-free day. Yay!!! I never considered a prolonged exposure to news media a means of potty training, but sure enough it did the trick. Even after we turned off the TV and went upstairs to color Barack coloring sheets and discuss how he and Hannah Jane have the same favorite president (albeit for slightly different reasons), he slipped downstairs on his own to go potty. Proudly he announced that he had done it all by himself.

So while there are many seemingly more important reasons to celebrate President Obama today, for us it is that he somehow inspired Hunter to part with his diaper for the whole day.

Hannah jane got so into the whole thing. She excitedly stood by the TV and said, “Momma! Take my picture with Obama so I don’t forget I was here!” And of course once I did, Hunter and Haven both demanded the same. I suppose they will make cute pictures for the baby box. Hannah Jane has spent enormous amounts of time pouring over Abraham Lincoln books and movies and whenever she heard the correspondents say anything about his Bible or the emancipation Proclamation she would jump up and yell, “Did you hear that?!?! I know about that!” She felt sad for ole W as he got on the helicopter, saying that she hopes he finds a better job since he lost his. Crack me up! I suppose job hunting is a subject near and dear to our hearts right now. And she wants a dress just like Melia’s. Hunter just sat happily on the potty, only getting up for his photo-op with Mr. President. Every now and them he’d let out a little, “Bama!”

All of this comes as a surprise to me since Joe and I both rode the fence to the very end and never really talked up one candidate over the other. Both seemed to be decent choices in different areas. Hannah jane used to write letters to Sara Palins saying, “Have good hunting, Sara Palin” and funny stuff like that. I suppose she either gets more easily caught up in things than I ever did as a child, or she is just better informed than I was. Either way, it’s great to have a kid who doesn’t mind watching Ahmedinijad (spelling?) give a speech and who will happily watch a vice presidential debate. She knows more at 5 than I did at 25.

Anyway, it was a big day for all!

The Danger in “Do Unto Others”

So the golden rule has been a big topic of discussion in our home lately, as I’m sure it is in all homes with pint-sized siblings. The course we’re doing with the Jr. Youth has each major religion’s version on the golden rule so you can see its very slight evolution over time. I showed it to the kids and we talked about it as in depth as you can with little people.

A day or so after we really focused in on the subject there was a big tot blow up. I could hear screaming and thrashing on the floor from downstairs and ran up to see what the problem was. To get the story, I pulled Hannah Jane aside and asked for her version. “Hunter wants the blue marker off the shelf and I won’t get it for him.” I couldn’t quite figure out why my generally generous girl was being less than helpful to her brother and assumed that I misunderstood in some way. So, I went to Hunter. “Sisser not get me bue marker!” he said with a stomp. I asked, “Why won’t you just help him like you usually do?” The reply was hillariously shocking. “I did help him. I got him the pink marker because that’s the one I would want.” Still not seeing the connection I followed with the usual, “Hannah, when you love someone you give them what they need and want, not what you think they should want.” (I have perfected this speech the many times Hannah Jane has complained that Hunter won’t hug her the first minute he wakes up in the morning because he needs a good solid hour before anyone can even smile at him without getting yelled at) She rolls her eyes at getting the same old speech and says, “But that rule, Mom. You know. That big rule. What about that?”

Admittedly, I’m still not getting it. In an irritated huff I gave Hunter the desired marker and left the room, content with my defeat. Then it came to me. I went back to the school room and said my biggest mommy appology. I am getting sadly good at that these days. Then we had to rehash the whole golden rule thing, explaining that what she would want is for Hunter to give her what she wants. Did that make sense? Well, it did when we spoke.

Who would have guessed that the golden rule could be such trouble?

Schooling Schedule

Homeschooling moms e-mail me all the time asking about our schedule. I spent lots of time e-mailing other moms about their schedule when we were getting started too, so I can totally understand the feeling of searching for that perfect family management schedule that will magically make all of the challenges melt away. The bad news is, it doesn’t exist. The good news, my guess is that you are probably already doing what works best for your family. At least we were. All the time I spent Googling sample schedules and trying to figure out how those perfect homeschooling moms on-line were doing it, I was pretty much already doing what I do now. Had someone told me that, though, I would still have wantd to know what they do. So, for you stubborn, type A’s out there like me, here it is.

We wake up early (not really by choice, it just happens that way) and we eat breakfast and the kids brush their teeth and get dressed – usually. If we have an errand to run or need the van for whateer reaason, we will pile in the van and drop Joe off a work. Otherwise we just see him out the door and get rolling.

The kids tidy their rooms and play for a few minutes while I get my head about me and make a little checklist of what household chores I need to do. Then we all sit down together at the table in our “school room.” First comes our devotional time. We start with the prayer that we are trying to memorize that week and then we read and discuss a story from the Central Figures book.

Next, Hannah jane sits down to work on Explode the Code (our phonics based reading program) independantly and I try to use this time to clean up the downstairs. I try and keep the downstairs at least visually tidy so that I won’t die of emmbarrassment if someone drops by. I can usually finish in the time it takes hannah Jane to finish her 2 pages.

Next we sit down for Saxon math. I facilitate the meeting book portion while preparing materials for the lesson portion. We do the lesson and then Hannah Jane does the workbook mostly by herself. While she does the workbook I spend 15 minutes or so doing Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons with Hunter. Haven likes to do this with us to the deree that he can and that keeps the boys from disturbig Hannah Jane. She pops in with an occasional quesion about how to sound out a word, but is prett good to go on her own at this point.

depending on the day, it is usually about 9:30 when we finish Saxon Math. We do a quick Spanish conversation or vocab review for about 15 minutes, then another 15 or so on our spelling word bank. Anything that needs more time gets it, and on Fridays we spend a larger chunk of time on these 2 activities making sure we;ve mastered the content before we move on next week.

Then we have a snack and then put the baby down for a nap. While Haven naps we do our Tapestry of Grace work. This is our literature based plan that ties history, social studies, reading, and a little science and art all together in one nice package. We start at the beginning of time (Biblically speaking) and progess up through modern times at a nicely planned pace. This time is usually spent reading library books on historical figures, looking at maps, and doing some crafty project that resembles an activity that the culture we are studying would have engaged in. We made an Egyptian Shaduf, painted with beery ink, used food boxes to build a ziggurat and then coated it with cornmeal to get that sandy effect, etc. We’re just getting into this program, and it really makes things fun and memorable in an academically valuable way. As a result, I have a 5 year old who understands the difference betwen a military dictatorship and a democracy and who has a fairly good arguement against some injustices in Hamurabi’s notoriously just code of laws.

If there is any time left after Tapestry before the baby wakes up, I let them watch a TV show. I know, I know. Homeschoolers are supposed to shun all TV at all costs. But I’m a gal of moderation and my kids one show a day if their attitudes aren’t so off the hook that they lose the privledge.

Once the baby wakes up we have a little lunch and some lazy play time. Often times we ride bikes, do a puppet show, or play with moon sand. By this time we need some low-pressure imaginaive or active activity that lets their brains recouperate. Usually while they eat and play I finish off the chores for the upstairs portion of the place and catch up on more in depth cleaning like dustig and mopping.

Generally, about the time that I need to start preparing for dinner I sit Hannah Jane down for her special project of the day. Some days it’s an addition to her lap book (the neat scrap book type creation that Tapestry of Grace reccomends), other days it’s a science project, an entry for an art competition, or cards to old friends. The boys re happy to chase each other around or try and catch any scrap of food that falls as I prepare the meal.

I try and have things fairly calm by the time Joe arrives. I’m one of those arcaic chics who actually enjoys the notion of preparing for your man’s arrival. I light some candles, put on some music, wipe the glistening snot from little noses, and make the table look nice.

Once Joe arrives we greet him at the door and the kids help me set the table while he changes out of his work clothes. After dinner they all rough house and treat Joe like a one man fairground while I clear away dinner messes and prepare “last snack.” The kiddos gobble down last snack, brush teeth and get into jammies.

Now for my favorite part of the day. Once one of us has put the baby to bed, we have this litle ritual with the older kids. Joe started a really neat prayer time. We have one of those cool humidifiers that pours different colored fog out of this large glass bowl. We turn that on and turn out the lights. We sit around it and take turns saying a prayer. As each person finishes their prayer, they blow the fog out of the bowl. The kids really get into it. Hannah Jane always sings the prayers that she learned in her children’s class, Hunter either just ssays “God is good” or repeats the “Bestow upon me a pure heart like unto a pearl” prayer after me. Joe always says the Lord’s prayer and I try and mix it up a bit. Lately the kids have demanded that we do that Native American sounding song that is usually done with drums…”Oh God! My God! My beloved, my heart’s desire.” I wish I could find a recording of that somewhere for them to hear.

Then it’s a book and bed time. We still do a family bed (except the baby, who hasn’t yet learned how to sleep in the presence of others) so they pile in and talk for a while until hey fall asleep. Usually they’re all out by 8. Joe and I have some nice quiet time, mostly spent talking economic policy or looking for houses on the internet and then we pile in on either side of them and another day is done.

Yeah…that was probably more detail than you bargained for, but thtat’s my way. Ou motto around here is Always give ‘em more than they asked for! Seriously, Hannah is so cute when she says that with her face all proud.

Hoe it helps!

Hard Economy Hits Home

Despite our run of good luck, the hard times are finally in view. While we feel completely blessed that Joe actually found a job during this national job crisis, we are now realizing that we still have to proceed with caution. We have been endlessly house hunting since we arrived in Utah and have put 2 offers on a house that we really loved. We felt like we were in an unbelievably fortunate position of having a sizable downpayment for a house and of not having to sell anything in order to buy. While all of that is still true, Joe was given notice today that the University is hurting, like everyone else, and every employee is going to have to take a mandatory week of unpaid vacation. That is the first step in trying to save jobs, but if the 2010 budget doesn’t look any better than expected people are going to be let go.

Last month they sent out over 300 letters letting people know that they are on the list of people eligible for the first round of job cuts. Thankfully Joe didn’t get a letter, but we now see the reality of our situation. Joe is certainly among the newest employees, which often translates into the most expendable. So we have haulted the house hunt. Renting seems the best way to go for now.

So for this season of life I am going to focus on making this place a home and advancing my family spiritually and academically from here. No more putting things on hold while we wait to put down roots in a permanent place. This is it for now, and there is lots of life to be lived from here. How blessed we are to have a home, a nest egg, and a paycheck still coming in. We will go to bed feeling the weight of bounty upon us.

Our Family Bed

I was laying in bed the other night, clinging to the edge with Hannah Jane and Hunter sprawled out between Joe and I, thinking about what a controversy bed sharing has become. The next morning I flip on the laptop to enjoy a quiet coffee moment before the daily craziness set in and what was the ad beside my inbox? “The dangers of co-sleeping!” What a coincidence. I thought more about all of the sleeping arrangements we’ve had over the past 5 years and had to laugh.

We have had the good fortune of a pediatrician who fully supported co-sleeping, and well, we’d have done it anyway I suppose. But it always feels good to have the family doc in your corner. With Hannah Jane, the all night nursling, it was a matter of survival. There was just no way I could get up and go into the next room every 5 minutes so I just slept there like an all night buffet. It was quite fine and we all got the rest we needed. I was very much into the whole attachment parenting, Dr. Sears style stuff at that point (and by that point I mean when there was just one little person to shape and guide).

By the time Hunter rolled around I had gotten hold of a new book -Baby Wise. Yes, the most non-attachment parenting book ever written. And well, it sounded reasonable. And the was no way I could just sit on he couch all day and lie in bed all night allowing him to nurse at will the way Hannah Jane had since I now had a 2 year old to look after as well. So Hunter got the crib by the bed treatment. Sad to say, but it’s true. But it sure didn’t last long. He weaseled his way into the big bed with his playful charm and at this point it was no longer co-sleeping for convenience. It so that mommy could have greater access to snuggles.

Fast forward 18 months and Haven joins the crew. By this point we have tried getting the little ones into their own beds (I’m sure because some expert wrote a book that said to) and it worked on and off, but the fact remained that we just plain like all the love in the family bed. A room away felt lonely and cold. Now, though, we were nose to nose with a problem of a new variety. We just plain couldn’t safely fit 5 in a queen sized bed without co-sleeping actually being a risky endeavor. So what did we do? We split into 2 family beds (well, a bed and a sofa sleeper). Every night Joe and I would kiss goodnight and go our separate ways. He headed for the hide-a-bed with Hannah Jane and Hunter and I headed to the big bed with Haven. Variations on this theme lasted for a few months before we just put all of the mattresses on the floor and made one big sleeping room where we could all be together happily.

I know all of this sounds like it may be more trouble than it’s worth, but when you get to hear a little voice say, “Good morning, Baby! How you sleep?” before you ever open your eyes, you’ll be hooked. And there is a feeling that cannot be described when you are staring into your husband’s eyes from across a sleeping bunch of sweet little lives that you brought into this world together. It just makes sense.

And as for the arguments that it is dangerous, well I worried about that when they were each itty bitty and took precautions that the Ped agreed were necessary and adequate. The fear mongers out there love to harp on the inevitable doom of bed sharing and say that there is nothing that can be done to make it safe, but my gut tells me that this feeds a need for someone out there and I am not going to argue with it. And for all of the pro co-sleeping arguments, well I’m not in that boat either. I don’t do it because of statistics or because it is the way mankind has raised their babies since caveman days. Nope. I just do it because it makes all of us feel warm and fuzzy.

On a final note, I began this post with a description of our current arrangement with Hannah Jane and Hunter in the middle. What I left out is Mr. Haven, who now sleeps alone in a separate room. Yup. The baby is on his own. Only for a while, though. They all went through a phase of toddlerhood where they were just not capable of falling asleep in the presence of others. We miss ‘em during this phase, but soon he’ll be back. And ya know what? We’ll be ready for him in our new King sized bed.

You have the right to remain silent

A book meeting that I attended recently got me thinking about how Baha’is are supposed to behave with regards to politics. I found that my opinions regarding the topic are wildly unpopular, but that has never stopped me from sharing as I do so love to play devil’s advocate.

My feelings are that we are called to not participate in partisan politics because of it’s divisive nature in particular. Now, are we really abstaining from that down side of politics when we are constantly saying, “As a Baha’i I do not participate in partisan politics. I mean, look at all of the horrible things that are associated with it…(Goes on to list every smarmy thing that has ever taken place in DC)” I guess I see that as participating in the negative part of politics, the gossipy back talk, without participating in the potentially good parts. It doesn’t make us look like we are staying out in order to create unity. It makes us look like the gossipy part is too good to resist, but we’re all too happy to bow out of the rest on the basis of it being beneath us.

When I voiced this opinion at my book study, it was welcomed about as much as a burning cross at a church social. It probably came out all wrong (as much of what I say does) but I thought it was a fair point that deserved at least a little thought. But it seemed as obviously wrong to them as it seemed right to me. It always amazes me how 2 people can see things in such absolutely opposite ways. To the rest of my crew, it is necessary to highlight the negatives as a means of creating a common starting place from which to guide the conversation and EVERYONE knows how corrupt politics are. And what better way to get people to see why they should stay out of politics. I think this is a cop out.

My political views have never faired well among the masses, as I have never considered having seen the latest Michael Moore film as equivalent to being well informed. I like to question a little more than that. And even though I am trying my hardest to be good and stay out of the political circus, I am more interested than ever in what really constiutes being just.

I am drawn to the phrase “unenslaved mind” that we came across in our book study. What does that mean and is it really possible to have? Are we not totally enslaved by the media and the constant flow of agenda-mentaries (I refuse to call some of these films documentaries)? The answer cannot be to turn it all off completely and be completely ignorant of what goes on in the world. There’s no real nobility in that. But it is all too easy to be so seduced by one persuasive argument that you no longer even feel compelled to give the other side a chance.

That Kaycee Anthony girl comes to mind just now. She has been so tried in the court of public opinion already that it is virtually impossible for her to receive a fair trial. But people don’t seem to care about that. They only fight for the right to a fair trial if it is for someone they have already deemed innocent themselves. As for the rest, who cares if they get a chance to defend themselves. But what do we really know about her other than what the talking heads on TV want us to know? Is that really fair? Are our minds unenslaved enough to actually say for certain that she is so guilty that it doesn’t matter that she can’t possibly get a jury or judge who hasn’t watched her be degraded on TV in a most convincing manner?

I got a little off track, but my point is this: it’s not easy to think on our own. To not give in to media and animal nature and all of the other things that are so willing to let us substitute their thought for our own. And even when you try and free your mind, sometimes it’s hard to know what thoughts are truly yours and which ones originate with Rachel Maddow or Glen Beck. I don’t pretend to have the answer, I just sometimes know the problem when I see it and even the most innocent seeming negativity is just that…negativity.

Logan Baha’is on the Web

I am happy to announce that my local Baha’i community is officially on the web! Hooray!

The youth devised a plan to go out into the community and recruit new children to join mine (the only children in our humble little community) for biweekly children’s classes. At that moment it occurred to me that this group was virtually impossible to find when I was looking for local Baha’is and it took a lot of detective work to track them down. These days it seems that if you aren’t on the web, you don’t exist. So I consulted with some friends and decided to create a web page.

We would like to work our way up the Google pages. It is frustrating how we are the only actual page related to Logan Baha’is but when you do that search, everything but our page comes up. I am told what we need are links to our page so that Google will decide that we are the popular kids on the block. So with that in mind I am putting out a request for links. Please, please, please help us out and link place a link on your page to www.loganbahais.webs.com We are happy to link to you in exchange.

Our youth are especially excited to see themselves on the web. What fun for this struggling little group.

So thanks for any support you can offer, even if it is just a visit to see what we’re up to. And please don’t hesitate to offer suggestions. I am not a pro at this web building stuff so I’ll take all the help I can get!

Tired of hearing…

There are a few things I think every homeschooling family hears way too much. I suddenly feel the need to rant a little, so I’ll proceed to vent now.

“I knew this kid who was homeschooled and he totally didn’t know how to make friends. It was so sad!” Well, I went to school with a few people who didn’t know how to make friends. Yes, it was sad but I’d never give it as a reason you should pull your kids out of school. I get so tired of people suggesting that I’m shortchanging my kids socially by not sending them to school. Ughhh…It is the age old peave of the homeschooler, but it doesn’t stop getting said, so it doesn’t stop getting ranted about.

“Are you super Christian? Aren’t all homeschoolers super religious?” Have you not met those wacky granola people who don’t send their kids to school because they don’t want the man to brainwash them? They don’t strike me as super religious. And I suppose I am a bit on the religious side, but I’m Baha’i. (Don’t get me started on the “Do you do homeschool because you’re Baha’i? Do all Baha’is homeschool? Is it a rule?” thing!)

Then there are the things from other homeschoolers. “Oh…you use Saxon math? Don’t you find it a bit paganistic?” God forbid a story problem include an elf or a knome. I don’t think it means Saxon has turned their back on God! Then there’s the “You don’t find the Trivium too rigid?” or the “aren’t you missing out on the basics by using a thematic approach?” and “What? You skipped a chapter in Tapestry of Grace?” I’m all for giving suggestions. I do it myself more than I probably should. But could you phrase them in a more positive way? Leave off the gasp before the sentence and maybe forget the homeschool rumor mill about curricula? Don’t we all love homeschooling because everyone learns differently and no one approach works for every child? How many times have you gotten a few weeks into a program before you realized that all the hype was way off?

Maybe we could all agree to not mention the stereotypes so much. Granted, most stereotypes became stereotypes for a reason. But my feeling is that EVERYONE, in any category, get’s fed up with being lumped into our little boxes. And EVERYONE sometimes likes to think of themselves as the exception to the rule. So try and forget that homeschooled kid who wasn’t super cool because his family was a part of some religiously fanatical group, and forget what you heard about that strange teaching style. That’s not me. And it’s probably not you, either.

Alzheimers Cottage

So we’ve kind of gotten in a service project roll around here. The teenagers in our community have really enjoyed going to visit the old folks home’s Alzheimers Cottage and we’ve had some pretty funny experiences there. My mom got such a kick out of the stories and said, “Uh, you should really be adding thee to your blog.” So here’s for you, Mom.

To get into the cottage you have to press a button to unlock the door, and to leave you have to punch in a ridiculously long code. This system lets you know right away that they don’t want any residents leaving unattended. Last time I took the youth, there was a couple sitting at the games table and we couldn’t help noticing that they had their heavy coats on and the woman was clutching her purse. I asked if one of them was a visitor for the other and they mumbled something that led me to believe that one of them did not live there. The whole time we were there they had those coats on as if they were getting ready to leave. When it comes to the end of our visit, the teens punch in the code and are loitering around the door waiting for the last of our group to finish her discussion with a resident and join us. I am aware that this is a risk and I’m trying not to be that annoying, rule obsessed adult so I just keep my eye on the situation. Well, low and behold, Mr. and Mrs. coat and hat get up, arm in arm, and head out the door. The chatty youth just let them pass and say bye. I grabbed a nurse down the hall and said, “Uh, I don’t think they’re supposed to be leaving. I’m really sorry, but my youth group let them out.” As it turns out, they are both residents and they do just sit there waiting for their chance to hit the road. Leave it to my group to fall victim to the escape artists.

A few days after this I took my own little kiddos for a visit because they are always being left at home when I take the teens and they were dying to visit. I figured that I’d cave in for Ayyam-i-Ha. We painted sun catchers and baked cookies for our visit. Right away one woman took the whole tray of cookies and headed to her room. The attendant stopped her and said, “Those aren’t all for you, Gladys.” And the poor woman stopped and said, “Oh. I am so ashamed.” She handed them back and I had to force her to even take one after that. Later Hannah Jane gave her a sun catcher and she smiled and said thank you, but as soon as Hannah Jane turned away she handed it back to me and said, “Here’s her toy back.” I explained that it was a gift and she got tears in her eyes and thanked us over and over as she walked away with it pressed to her heart. I was so moved by her emotion, but just a minute later she came back and said, “Here’s her little toy back.” We went through the whole thing several more time. Each time she cried and looked overwhelmed at the idea of a gift. It was both sad and cute to see what great emotion she could access over and over again.

Hunter mad fast friends with a woman who barely spoke, but was willing to sit at the fish tank and point at fish with him for as long as he wanted. Koral, a notoriously talkative woman who insists that she doesn’t live there, but visits as a courtesy, kept telling people that Hannah Jane was her sister. Hannah Jane would just say, “Koral is playing pretend again.” every time. It was pretty cute.

When we left the kids all begged to go back, so I promised that as long as things went well we would go each Friday and take cookies. It is such a mutually beneficial activity. The kids get way loved on and the old folks need some youthful energy in that place. One woman kept saying, “Thank you. I mean, the cookies are nice, but the kids are what we really want more of.” That group has really made me think about how I hope to be treated when I am so needy someday, and I just hope little kids and teenagers bring me cookies and suncatchers once in a while.e

Spring is in the air!

What wonderful weather we’re having here. Despite the snow on the ground, the wind is a little warmer and we can get away with wearing summer clothes with a jacket over top. I know, I know, every year we bust out the short sleeves only to have another snow. But after a long winter, who isn’t itching for a change.

It all started because we’re heading out to CA for Joe’s furlough so the kids needed swimsuits. I, being terminally cheap, headed straight for the Mormon thrift store. There were no swimsuits yet, but there were mass quantities of flowery summer dresses that made Hannah Jane’s little head spin and tons of Hawaii themes shirts for the boys. Naturally, we loaded up. Of course the draw of new clothes is too great and the kids have been wearing the summer clothes ever since.

Once you’re wearing the clothes your whole mind set is instantly summerized and now we have spent hours on spring themed crafts and songs. We’re obsessed. We made Granny’s Southern Summer Cake, painted caterpillars, and took a bath in swimsuits. We can’t wait to get to Gramma Jamma’s house and give her all of the wonderful Spring time gifts we’ve made! She’s not the craft loving type, but the kids have more fun making them if there’s someone to give them to.

Fasting Frustrations

My first month of fasting is not as wonderful as I had hoped it would be. I am completely conflicted about the whole thing. I know that you are exempt from the fast if you are breastfeeding, but I feel like for me that would be a total excuse. Haven is old enough to wean and truthfully, I have not been enjoying nursing him for quite a while now. So I felt like my small amount of nursing was no excuse to sit this one out. Plus, I just really want to participate.

What have I done? Well, I decided to initiate the weaning process and go for it. And I still can’t decide if that was the best move. let me rephrase, beginning to wean was the BEST thing ever, and I am enjoying my time with Haven so much more. For those of you who don’t know, Haven (21 months and 32 lbs) is an all day nursling who can’t function in the same room with me if he’s not attached. Oh, how I’ve longed to just snuggle him and read him a story or just play with him. But I have never been able to do those things because he is screaming if he’s not nursing.

So the first day of the fast I cut him down to once a day. I didn’t do it sooner because I am wishy washy on the weaning thing and couldn’t really decide until I woke up that morning. Now he’s down to just nursing when he wakes up in the morning, and there’s not a whole lot of milk to be had. So now I am thinking, Okay…let’s do this fast thing!!! But when 2:00 rolls around and I am feeling like I could pass out, and am avoiding going up stairs to conserve my energy I am wondering, is this because I am technically still nursing and should be sitting this out? But then I think everyone must feel this way and why should I be an exception. No one said it would be easy. Right? And the one time I caved in and thought, “Skyla, this is crazy! You are exempt from this.” and I ate a piece of fruit, I just beat myself up over it thinking that I was using the whole nursing thing as a rationale for being completely weak.

If I could just make up my mind, and my heart, as to which is the right thing I would feel so much better. As of right now, I just wish I had a bit more guidance. I think nursing once a day is a pretty pathetic reason to sit it out, but then I am sure there is more wisdom in the rules than I could ever grasp. I just don’t think I’m the nursing mother Baha’u'llah had in mind when he laid down the law. So here I am, fasting most days and feeling completely lousy about it the days I eat an apple to stave off complete weakness. And before you hit me with e-mails, yes, I’m saying the prayers and reading and all the lovely spiritual stuff that comes with this time. And I’m praying for an answer to my little conundrum, but God’s voice just isn’t all that loud on this one.

Fasting follow up

A week or so ago I had just finished telling my dear friend Ted that only family and friends ever read my blog when I carelessly cranked out a post about my desires to wean and my feelings about the fast. The next day I skipped off to California to meditate on a mountain side in Placerville and enjoy some intense, unplugged family time. I came back completely refreshed and tranquil only to check my inbox and find 18 e-mails in response to that fasting post. I have never paid much attention to my stats page, but felt this was an appropriate time to do so. What I found floored me. An unbelievable amount of people read that blog. Who knew?

So, I apologize for writing so thoughtlessly about 2 such sensitive topics as breastfeeding and fasting. I assumed that anyone’s eyes that would fall upon my page already had some sense of our family’s life and values. The very enthusiastic responses I received from that post have made me see that I must be a bit more thorough and thoughtful.

So, to clarify, I am quite pro-nursing and have nursed my 3 kids a good many years. But if you are a parent you know that as wonderful as nursing is, there comes a time when it is obvious that it’s time to cut back a bit. In my case knowing it was time did not come accompanied with a knowledge of how to go about it. Haven has only increased his nursing as he’s gotten older, not decreased. That said, none of his nourishment is coming from me. I’m virtually a milk-free human pacifier.

In regards to the Baha’i fast, I know that breastfeeding mom’s are not bound by the fast, but that knowledge didn’t change the fact hat I’m just so in love with every nuance of this beautiful faith that I whole-heartedly long to partake of every little aspect of it. While I would never venture to put words in Baha’u’llah’s mouth, it seemed pretty clear to me that the reason for excusing the nursing mother is because both mother and child are engaged in a delicate exchange of nourishment that is essential for the health and well being of both involved. Being that Haven gets his nourishment from well balanced meals, just like his brother and sister, I felt like my category of nursing mom’s probably didn’t need to sit this gift out and may not even really have been the subject of that exemption. I jusy hadn’t really put much thought into it before the fast was upon me. And it is not written that we are forbidden to fast, rather that we are not bound by that obligation (atleast that I am aware of).

So, now that you know my thinking, let me tell you what has happened since that post. In my desire to participate at least partially in the fast, I finally did what I knew long ago should be done and I took the difficult step of cutting Haven down to nursing once a day. Once he accepted this new reality he became the most wonderful, engaging little fellow I have ever met. He no longer screams all day over nursing. He cuddles, plays and reads with me with no clawing and whining. He is finally participating in what is going on in the world around him. It is so wonderful.

Perched up on the California hillside with nothing to do but play and pray, I came to accept that fasting need not be an all or nothing activity and contented myself with my part in it for the year. I feel quite happy, though, with having tried to do it full tilt for the first few days. It pushed me to finally make a long overdue parenting maneuver and taught me a bit about moderation and accepting guidance.

All in all I’d say this was a week of lessons learned. I learned that I am not safely typing within the shelter of internet anonymity, that Haven can be pleasant as a plum when the distractions of nursing are removed, and that I can be a little more gentle with my self as I am transitioning into comfort with all this Baha’i lifestyle stuff. Happily, I also learned that there is a world of supportive strangers out there who have been silently following along with the twists and turns of our family’s life and are wishing us well on our way.

Wordle Fun

We found this fun site called wordle and have had a blast with it. You enter in any t ext you want and it turns it into beautiful word art. You can change the design and colors and make it your very own. It’s great for turning scripture into a beautiful word cloud or making a family treasure. We found it through Rainn Wilson’s new site soul pancake. It says that when he launched the site he plugged his mission statement into wordle. It is just so much fun we had to share it. We’ve had a blast. But if you go, make sure you save your code because if you go back to look for it in the gallery even a half hour later, you’ll never find it. It is crazy popular and is flooded with wordles. Here’s our family worlde. Click on it for a larger view! Happy wordling!

We’ve got spirit. Yes, we do!

I was telling another mom about our family’s togetherness rituals and she about died laughing. Later I got an e-mail from her friend asking advice on how to create her own for her family. Well, maybe the world needs more hilarious bonding exercises, so here are a few of our favorites to help get you started (or just to amuse you).

We have a family fight song, and I use the term “fight song” very loosely. It goes a little something like this…”Hey, _____! You’re not alone! Hey, ____! You’re not alone! You’ve got a big family. That’s why you’ve gotta’ see, you’re never gonna’ be ever aloooooooone!” We sing this when someone is acting grumpy. Usually, if it’s a tot, they cross their arms and look even more grumpy for a few seconds or maybe even yell, “NO!” But before long they crack a smile and sing along. We usually go around and put each person’s name in the blank before we’re all done.

Then, of course, there’s the family cheer. Dorky, I know. But the kids love it. We all put our hands in the pile and chant, “Together…Forever…Gooooooooo Family!” flinging our hands up upon “Family!” Not so long ago we introduced a tambourine to the cheer and we stack our hands on top of it and during the very long “Goooooo” we shake it like crazy. It’s a hoot and a fun way to end our day. It usually falls somewhere between tooth brushing and story time.

And finally, my favorite. Hannah Jane said the only thing she would miss about going to “real school” was having a school shirt. So now we have a family crest that we spent forever voting on and designing so that Hanna Jane could have that school shirt after all. First we came up with a mascot. We decided that in order to reflect our family, it must be a pack animal since we are always together and soething funny since we ae a group of crack-ups. We tossed it around a while and eventually settled on a Hyena. I don’t actually know if they travel in packs, but they do in Lion King and that was good enough for my crew. Then we selected colors and details. Once we had agreed upon what was to be included, I set to work making it happen using free images from the internet. I think it looks pretty good. Now we have it on our homeschool ID cards, on t-shirts, and every now and then we even put it on stationary. How official the kids feel when thy get to send a note to a friend on “school stationary!”

Christison Home Academy og the Arts and Sciences

Yeah. I know it’s nuts. But that’s just who we are. We never claimed to be rational. So we’ve got spirit, how bout you?

weird photo jag

I suppose my natural mommy drive to take far too many photos has finally bled over into my super art project frenzy. Shortly before our trip I threw myself into some photo collage tutorials after seeing this really amazing artwork that I just knew I had to copy. During one of Haven’s naps while we were in CA I went outside and got photo crazy snapping anything I thought that I might find useful once I got into my creation mode. Some are better than others, but over all I am giddy with my new found hobby. I think if they were not my own creations I’d see them as totally awesome and I’d want to hang them on my wall. But since they are my own brain children, I hesitate to have them blown up into full on home decor. Maybe once we get a house I’ll change my mind.

This is a combo of 2 pictures I took of a dead tree in Jamma’s backyard. I layerd, altered opacity, and added some light effects. Secretly, this is my favorite.

These are each a combo of a one detail from the cement base of a sundial layered with a super macro photo of a flower. Don’t ask why, I just think they’re pretty. I like soft petals on stone.

This one I won’t touch. Isn’t that the perfect snap of spirited girlhood. This is absolutely getting blown up and hung somewhere prominent. I can’t stop looking at it.

Gee! How’s that for an exhausting art blog?

Wal-Mart Proud

My mom made some “Ughh…Wal-Mart” statement the other day, and having heard the same sort of disdain filled comment several times over the past week, I snapped. I half playfully unloaded on her. When I was all done she said, “I never thought about it that way. You have to blog that.” And she’s bribed me multiple times since to type it here. So here’s my wildly unpopular views on Wal-Mart.

To start, lets consider how their merchandise is actually made. There are all of these factories in China and different companies take their product around and get bids from the factories to produce it. Wal-Mart gets a bid from a factory to make a pair of track pants for a dollar each. Macey’s gets a bid from the same factory to make a similar pair of pants for a dollar as well. So at the same time, a single factory often manufactures similar products for a variety of stores. This is just the reality of how things work.

So that factory ships the one dollar pants back over here to the US for the same cost to, lets say Kohls, Macey’s and Wal-Mart. They are all paying the same shipping fees, similar merchandise fees, using the same horrible sweat shop style factories. When the pants get here, they move on to their respective stores and that’s where the similarities end.

From there, Wal-Mart sells you those track pants for seven dollars while Kohls and Macey’s sell you a similar in quality pants for 30 or 40 buck to make you feel like you are getting something more special than you could ever get at Wal-Mart. But wait. It gets worse.

Let’s look at the business practices. Wal-Mart offers health insurance to its employees, fair wages, and equal oppertunity. Honestly, they do. Kohls and Macey’s claim to do the same, but the reality is that I have never walked into a Kohls or Macey’s and seen an employee with acne scars, missing teeth, or any obvious handicap. In short, these department stores that charge you more for the same also only hire beautiful people. Wal-Mart, on the other hand, hires virtually anyone willing to do honest work for honest pay. You will regualrly see people that are just plain a little rough around the edges working there and being friendly while they do it. Which do you support?

To add to this sad reality, Joe and I befriended several of our usual clerks at Fred-Meyer (also know as Smith’s and Kroger’s). They freely admitted that they bought their groceries at Wal-Mart because they weren’t paid enough to shop in their own place of business. Now, I love the feel of Fred Meyer, the free child care and lovely bakery, but what does that say about a store when the woman who bakes my kids’ birthday cakes can’t even afford to shop in her own store?

I hear people say they’d rather die than shop at Wal-Mart. Why? Because you can’t stand to have people who aren’t pageant contestants ring you up at the check stand? Or is it because you fell better than everyone else if what you have can’t be afforded by “those people?” Or maybe you are one of the many out there who actually believe that those overpriced department stores actually charge you more because their merchandise is coming from some place different, more socially responsible, than Wal-Mart’s merchandise. Well, it ain’t so, friend. It just ain’t so. The reality is, you’re only buying American when you buy yourself a sheep from the neighbor, sheer it to make your own fabric and then move on to make your own clothes. That’s the only way. Nothing, from almost any store you can drive to, is not being made in am overcrowded, underpaid, poor working conditions factory in China. I hate it, but I’m not going to pretend that Wal-Mart is the villan!

I also believe that you must put your money where your mouth is. My opinion is that any person willing to work to support their family deserves a chance to do it, even if they aren’t model material. You can also follow the money trail when it comes to political contributions. I know I’m not supposed to be super political these days, but there are issues worth working for and I believe it is good to spend your dollars with that in mind. When I can see that Target contributes heavily to pro-choice organizations while Wal-Mart does the same for the pro-lifers, again I’ll spend with my heart on this one. That’s not to say I don’t love Target and sometimes shop there (well, did before I moved to a Target free town) but when given the choice, I usually go with Wal-Mart.

It is easier to shop with that in mind when it happens to be the most economical as well, I’ll admit that. But in these times, when people almost have to shop where it is cheap, they need to know that there is no shame in shopping at Wal-mart. Stop acting like you’ve committed a felony when you get caught pulling out of the Wal-Mart parking lot. It’s all good. Be proud! You are supporting the true working man. You are getting the savings of our unfortunate commercial relationship with China instead of lining corporate pockets and supporting unhealthy ballot measures. Shun these pretty people only environments that shape our daughters’ views of what they should be. Teach your family to appreciate a person’s willingness to work and look past what’s on the outside. It’s what you say you believe. Why not have the guts to live it?

Okay, now I’ve laid it out there. But I pride myself on being willing to hear and integrate a good arguement. So, hit me! Feel free to tell me why I should still shun WalMart. I look forward to your notes back!

Unit one is all done!

It may have taken us 11 weeks to get through an 8 week unit of Tapestry of Grace, but we finally did it! With an out of state move, a 2 week virus, and a furlough vacation, I'd say 11 weeks ain't that bad. Hannah Jane learned so much, and even Hunter and Haven joined in for some of the super fun stuff! I can't tell you how much I learned. There's nothing like homeschooling your kids to teach you how little you actually learned with that expensive private school education. Hannah Jane knows more about these topics at 5 than I did when I left for college! Pretty cool. I'm having as much fun as anyone here learning all the wacky ancient fun facts.

We began with ancient Egypt while we were still in Eugene, backtracked to creation once we arrived in Logan, and followed a Biblical account through Exodus and Moses's death. We've done crafts, built simple machines from the time, designed temples, and all kinds of other crazy stuff! Up next: ancient Asia and eventually Mexico. I haven't taken a close look yet. But Hannah Jane is excited to see what's to come!

On top of the Tapestry of Grace, Miss Hannah Jane has started playing the fife, a civil war woodwind. We picked it because I can teach her the flute, but her little arms are too short to reach. The C fife has the same finger positions so she can transition easily when her arms grow a bit. It is an unforgiving instrument, but she thinks it's really cool. She can now play a 3 note song with really bad pitch. We think it's pretty great. And last but not least, she has become quite the little reader. Last night she defeated a 64 page book in an attempt to go to the ice cream parlor today. She got her wish! Reading that many pages one night and then wrapping up a unit the next day deserves a little ice cream.

Ancient Far East Begins!

We had a great visit with my dad and now we are ready to tackle Unit 2 of our Tapestry of Grace Year 1. I am so excited to branch out into the Eastern cultures and see what we can learn. I am especially excited to study the religions. I get the impression that we will be guided quickly back to the Old Testament studies, but I intend to make the most of our time in the east. I am a bit disappointed that the collaborators for this curriculum felt the need to constantly remind parents to tell their children that God is judging the misgiuded members of these eastern religions and that they should be praying for their salvation, but I knew it was a fanatical curriculum when I bought it. Sadly there is no curriculum that I know of that is as wondefully complete as this one is. Luckily those little warnings are small boxes on each page of thorough guidance and content.

We started off the unit with lots of books on India, looking at their food, dress, and the origins of their 2 major religions: Hinduism & Buddhism. Hannah Jane made a decorative list of Hindu principals and we discussed the similarities and differences of their beliefs to our own. Then we hit the all wonderful YouTube to watch some traditional Indian dancing. Hannah Jane was excited about tat so we turned my favorite skirt into a sari and painted her forehead so that she could do some Indian dancing of her own. what a hoot! Finally we carved bars of soap to make our own replicas of little relics found in the ruins of the Mysterious Mohenjo-Daro. Hannah Jane carved the famous “Bearded Man” and I fast forwarded a bit in tim and carved Buddha. Huunter and Haven joined in with soap and butter knives to carve “satoos! Ittle satoos!” Pretty fun. The best part? The soap carving made the house small so fresh and clean!

The Indus Valley got off to a great start. Tomorrow we’ll do Hinduism a little more in depth and gloss over Buddhism. There is so much to take in in such a short time. This is a unit that all the kids are really getting into!

Move approaching

Whoo-Hoo! We have the keys and we will go to our new home -unattended for the first time ever- tonight after Joe gets off work. I am so excited. We will have dinner on the floor and make plans for what comes first. I never imagined we would be able to afford a home like this. It’s like a dream. And even crazier, our mortgage, property taxes, and home insurance together costs a whopping eleven dollars more than our rent. And with the new home owners tax credit, we’ll get more than enough back to fix it up and make it just what we want. How did this happen to us? From 500 square feet with people stealing junk off of our porch every night and domestic disputes nextdoor every afternoon to 5 bedrooms, a school room, a barn, and almost 2 acres of dream land in the safest town in America. It’s the most unbelievabe turn around ever to take place without winning the lottery.

When I went to set up utilities at the Nibly City Center (a free standing room with a counter, 2 clerks, and a quilt on the wall) I was warmly welcomed to town and given a run down of parks and activities by every single person who came in. It was very Mayberry-esque. Nibley Heritage Days are coming up and here is a children’s play every year. There is still a need for 5 year old girls to be living prop flowers and they need a set designer. What a great way to meet the community! I’m signing up for set designer the first chance I get and Hannah jane is so excited about being a flower in this year’s production of the Goose Girl.

I think Joe still gets a bit nervous about my Baha’iness scaring away neighbors and potential friends. I’ll descend upon Nibly gently. On the Baha’i front, I am making an effort to not let my spirits get down about moving out of city. I kow I can still come to holy days and all of that, but I already felt a bit excluded when I showed up to the Ridvan gathering and was introduced to the a new person as that woman who doesn’t live here. The LSA meeting was after the Ridvan Gathering and everyone in town is on it, so I had to make an uncomfortable exit alone so that they could get down to business. The simple reality of actually having an LSA now gives me such a feeling of excitement for this community, like things might really pick up.

Hannah Jane has finally made friends with a little girl named Callie who ha a twin brother with Spina Bifida and who also goes to Shriners. We had a play date at the park yesterday and it was the most glorious thing. Hannah Jane and Callie were off on their own the whole 2 hours while Hunter and Jake sat in the grass and threw the football. We’re going to their house for a cook out next week. Hooray for finally finding some friends for the littles. The down side is that they just moved out of Nibley to Smithfield and we will be a good 20 minutes from them when we move. But they go to school at the University so we can still meet in the middle at a park for playdates.

Well, that’s about all of the news for now. Stay tuned for the “before” pictures of our new place. I’ll snap them tonight when we picnic on our own land!!!!

Progress

Short update for those of you following. We are making good progress on the house. The carpet is out and the walls are about half painted. The color that we choe for 3 of the living rooms, the halls, and the school room turned out to be more orange than brown when we got it on the walls. We’ll see tomorrow how it looks all dried out. We like the way it looks on Joe’s pants, and in my hair, but on the walls we’re not so sure. we were going to paint the sunroom that color too, but that’s on hold for the momnt as well.

It’s thundering out there right now, and the only way I get anything done is if the kids are happily playing in the backyard, so I am not counting on any progress tomorrow unless the weather changes. If it does, the plan is to do the bedrooms. I think we have safer choices for colors there. We’ll see. You don’t always get what youre expecting with this paint stuff.

We’re Alive!

Hello, friends! We’re back in the land of the living! Lots has happened since we were disconnected from cyber space. Let’s see if I can even remember it all…

We got moved in in just one trailer load of help from our realitor turned friend, Larry. I knew we didn’t own much by way of material things, but the very idea of moving into a house with only one small trailor full of stuff is pretty impressive. We do kind of pride ourselves on not being attatched to “stuff” but I had no idea how little we actually owned. That said, we found ourselvs all moved in and the place still looking pretty empty. So what did we do? Of to Wal-Mart, of course! We outfitted the kids with some beds as our first step, and for about a week they actually slept the whole night in them. If you are a reader who actually knows us, you’ll understand how unbelievable that is. But soon they were creeping our way around midnight. This is still so great for Joe and I. We actuall get to snuggle up, unseparated by little people for a few hours each night. It’s been almost 6 years since we last did that. It’s bliss!

Once we had the bed thing settled, it was off to the real furniture stores. Lucky for us, we had the Memorial Day sales in our favor and we happened upon an amazing sofa set for a rockin’ good deal! The down side? It won’t be here for 3 weeks so the sunroom sits still empty. I’ll survive, though.

We went for a camping trip with a friend from Joe’s work and her family and friends. We are greatful to have been welcomed into that fold. What a wonderful weekend of lazy conversation and campfire cooking. Once we got the heart punding scare of the girls wondering off towards the rushing river only to be found by Joe under the bridge, foolishly getting as close as they could without falling in out of the way, we were set to have a relaxing weekend. It was great to see the kids acting like kids again.

Then back to the real world. Let’s see. Over the last couple of weeks I have installed a copper backsplash, painted, tiled, and outfitted the upstairs bathroom, installed smoke detectors, unpacked the last of the boxes, and seen the beginnings of an acceptable yard. We have a hight pressure neighborhood in the lawn department. I think they are having mercy on us considering what we started with, though.

Speaking of neighbors, Hannah Jane made fast friends with the sweetest little girl across the street, Madison. And her mother is about the most charming woman I have met, as well. Hannah Jane and I sit in awe of them both and are pleased to call them our new friends. Hannah Jane spends her mornings asking when we can go see Maddie and sitting by the window hoping to catch a glimps of her approaching. Once she does she starts yelling, “I see her!!! She’s coming, Momma! She’s coming!” I am thrilled to see her so happy. Finally.

All in all, we are in rapture over here. We live in what is slowly evolving into our dream home, with dream neighbors, and plenty of land to roam. Life is finally looking up, here in Utah. We worried that we might never feel at home here, that our religion might get in the way of friendships, or that we’d never find a place of our own, but sure enough, real life has found us and it is good.

I’ll add some photos to this post later on when I find the time. Right now we have some serious review to tackle in the maps and spelling department!

neighbors, plays and firesides

Today was the first day that I felt like we were living in this house instead of working for it. We had just gotten back from Hannah Jane’s play practice – she’ll be a dancing flower in the Nibley City play – and closed the garage door when we heard a pounding on the door and a little voice yelling, “I know you’re in there! I saw you come home! Open up!” Hannah Jane’s face lit up. It was Maddie, her new best friend in the whole wide world. She and her sister had come to see if Hannah Jane wanted to come over and play. It was also Haven’s nap time, so Hunter and I had the place to ourselves for a while. What fun. We had lunch from the same bowl, shared an apple while we watched the bird who now lives in our birdhouse, and then built a book case together. Hunter sorted the small hardware into lilke piles and handed me what I asked for. He even started each screw for me. He was so proud of himself. It was so nice to see who he is with no one else around and no siblings to compete with.

In the evening we went out to the horse field to collect rocks for a bed in the front yard. The boys rode in the wheelbarrow on top of the rock pile. Hannah Jane and Maddie jumped back and forth across the creek and giggled in that infectious way that little girls do. Maddie ran over and grabbed Haven and started dancing as she yelled, “Hannah! Hunter’s your partner.” Soon the horse field was filled with tiny dancing couples, twirling around the piles of poop and mosquitos. I think that picture will live in my heart forever.

We have opted not to get cable here. That sounds like no big deal to most people, but here in the valley that means NO TV!!!! You can’t pick up a single channel with rabbit ears becasue of the big ole rocky mountains. So we are now a family that hooks the laptop up to the TV when we want to watch something. Well, that’s theoretically what we would do. So far we’ve only watched one show here on our net/tv contraption and that was the season premier of Wipeout. It’s amazing how much time you find when there’s no tv around. We thought, “Anything we want to watch is online anyway, so we’ll just watch what we want when we want.” But in reality, when you sit down to surf the net for some tv show to watch you are hit with so many options that you never really feel satisfied with what you’ve chosen and you give up rather quickly. The result is a family with much more outside time, snuggle time, and hammock time.

We still haven’t fully resumed schooling. There’s just so much house stuff still to do, and I feel like Hannah Jane needs a little extra guidance to catch up to where we left off in our curricula. Once she’s caught up, I can go back to leaving her for 20 minute intervals once in a while to fold a quick load of laundry or unload the dishwasher. But we’re not there yet. I guess we’re actually taking an unplanned summer break. If you can call it a break. With daily play practice that happens to fall right at nap time and requires that we drop Joe off and pick him up in order to not have to walk 4 miles with all of the kids each way, it doesn’t feel like much of a break.

In the Baha’i department, I am in the process of putting together our first musical fireside in the Cache Valley. It’s a little intimidating with my pitiful guitar skills and unwillingness to sing infront of others, but I am going to set my self-critical fears aside and do it anyway. I decided that I had to make this place what I want it to be, and what I want it to be is a community of friends, not just fellow Baha’is. Tom admits to having tried to accomplish this feat for years but lacking a certain skill in the hospitality department. Our whole community feels a bit hospitality challenged, if I may speak freely. We all try, but things keep feeling a bit forced and akward or just plain obligational. we need more music, more candles, more chit chat. That sort of thing. You know, the things that move something from a board meeting feel to an enjoyable evening with friends. So send prayers my way. Firside is set for the 27th and between house, yard, and play practice I am barely fitting in preparations.

Alright. Enough updates. I promise my next post will have a more focused theme. I just can’t stay on top of this thing these days! Love to all!

Men on a Mission

We finally had our first missionaries visit tonight. I was starting to wonder where they were. As expected, they already knew all about us. We joked that there are spies among us. I am rather excited about their scheduled return visit. They had lots of question about Baha’is and were pretty straight forward about their grievances regarding our beliefs. I like that because it means I can be as straight forward with my questions and not have to feel bad about my disagreements with minor points here and there. I have so many questions about the LDS faith that I just couldn’t bring myself to ask my Mormon friends.

I thought I could get up the nerve to ask sweet Tara when we met up in salt Lake a few weeks ago, but I was so emotional over the whole transition that I was just an explosive mass of criticisms. I regret having been as honest as I was about my disappointments over Utah. I have since come to the realization that the behaviors that were so upsetting to me are actually Logan things, not Utah or Mormon wide. This city has a bit of a chip on its shoulder. Thankfully, we are outside of the city now and my perspectives have perked up substantially. Suddenly we are quite happy here and have found a place where, so far, we have been accepted as we are.

Anyway, I am looking forward to an evening of spirit filled discussion. I didn’t realize how much I had been craving some good God discussion until two ex-mormons came by inquiring about the Baha’i Faith and suddenly we were lost in discussion and I felt so revived. we all liked it so much that we’ve been meeting weekly ever since. Soul discussions never get old. So be it missionaries trying to save my soul or seekers at feast, I’ll take it and listen for God’s voice in it all.

My blog about blogging

Today I was sitting at a table with a group of ladies I have come to adore over the recent months, and the topic of privacy came up. Each of them, a good 30 or 40 years older than myself, spoke of being private people and not wanting their information out there in cyber space. They turned to me, the only one at the table who blogs and one of only two who facebook, and looked quite concerned for my own personal privacy.

I told them of how I began this blog for my family to keep up with the growing kids as we embarked on this life far away from anyone with common genes. I went on to talk about the crazy amounts of strangers wo visit regularly. I don’t mind it, I just didn’t expect it. The conversations quickly meandered to other topics of a political and spiritual nature, but my mind was drawn back to that issue of privacy out in the public world.

I always considered myself a very private person, but I have also come to find great value in the insights of strangers. Perhaps it is because my blogs topics are often about religion or family and those topics may naturally draw a gentler audience, but everyone who visits and drops me a note seems to attach a pearl of wisdom to their sentiment that stays with me for quite some time and feeds my thoughts with kindness and motivation. Maybe there are scummy creeps reading too, but so far they haven’t contacted me or heckled me in any way.

So I sit here wondering, can I really call myself a private person when I so enjoy what I receive from complete strangers? I observe certain safety precautions so that hopefully no one could track me down and show up at my house, but I suppose I do put it out there for examination. And there are precious few people out there who, if they googled themselves, would not find a big flashing arrow pointing out their exact location in life for anyone willing to look.

I guess I believe that the world has this fundamental principal that if you put good out there good will come back. If someone else can read about my difficulties as a first time, wannabe faster or about a mothering triumph and feel like they can take that and use it in a positive way in their life, then I think that this little privacy degrading thing we call the internet may actually be of some value. Here’s to forming communities, in person and in cyber space, that enrich the human experience and make it easier share love and encouragement with friends around the world.

ouchy fingers

What was I thinking inviting everyone over for an evening of learning Baha’i music together? Did I forget I was lousy at guitar? Or maybe I forgot that I am terrified to sing in front of people. Try both. But I suppose I was just hoping to have a warm and inviting gathering that people might actually want to bring guests to. Yeah. That was it.

Having gone 6 months without picking up the guitar, calluses gone, I had to spend the last 2 weeks trying desprately to learn the reccomended musical fireside songs. Now I remember why I stopped playing guitar. It hurts and I stink. I can handle that though. I’m toughening up for the cause Yes, I’ve learned most of them enough to teach the better guitar players and then stick to drums for myself. There was one I just plain can’t play, so I picked a replacement verse from the writings and put it to my own music. Turned out quite nicely, in my humble opinion. And the other one that I just can’t play no matter how hard I try I got a recording of and the chords and I’ll let my friends figure it out for themselves. It’s my favorite of the songs and I am bummed that I can’t play it. But it is the one that most begs for drums, so I’ll still have a place in the song.

So with a week to go, my fingers hurt and my kids are begging me not to play guitar anymore. At least not to play the same 5 songs over and over. But as lousy as it sounds, I think it’s probably good enough to get the point across. I have faith that Liz and Tom can run with it. We’ll have fun regardless of how bad we sound, and who knows? Maybe we’ll make it a regular thing.

back then

I’m finding that is particularly difficult to get a small child to understand that everything that happened “back then” didn’t all happen at the same time. That when Jesus was multiplying fish and loaves, and Tahirih was showing up without her veil, and Lara Ingles was crying over a broken doll were all different times. She seems to think that Gramma Jamma was going to college while Baha’u'llah was in exile and that “back then, when I was 2…” might have been the same time that there was this big horse that the Trojans were hiding inside of.

How do you fix that magnitude of an errant timeline? I suppose starting our day with spiritual history and then moving to our more textbookish study of ancient civilizations probably doesn’t help, but what to do? Discontinuing our mapping of the Baha’i Faith doesn’t seem like a step in the right direction, but neither does ending Aegean civilizations studies and I sure can’t seem to permenantly straighten things out in her cute little head. I’ll explain the huge time differences and say, “do you understand?” She’ll smile and nod and then 2 days later she’ll make a comment that makes it clear that we’re back at square 1. It’s like explaining eternity to a dog. No good, right?

For now I guess I’ll keep on doing what I’m doing and hope that her sweet little brain makes that important leap on it’s own while I google the fire out of the issue looking for an answer. I never encountered this topic in my teacher ed classes in college. Perhaps it’s because the American education system rarely ventures far beyond the time between the Mayflower and the Civil War while religious studies have been effectively pushed out. When you focus on the same, relatively small time period year after year the question of Abraham talking the Mongols out of invading China yet again probably never comes up.

Well, blessed are we to have such a wacky thoughtful troop of tots. I suppose the parents who don’t have these problems also don’t get the joy of hearing their children come up with amazing ideas about healing the world’s problems with time-traveling sages and religious figures. There are worse problems to have.