Starling Home From School

"Mom," Starling said--as she leaned over the cardboard box she was fashioning into a house:

 "Everybody at school loved my dress."

"Oh good," I responded. "That makes me so happy!"

"It makes me so happy too," she said.

We bought her that little cheetah dress for $5 at Wal-Mart yesterday--mostly because I saw it and knew she would wear it. And that girl has very few things she will willingly wear. She has tried to be a little more open-minded about various outfits with the start of the kindergarten, but she was nearly reduced to tears when I pulled out several absolutely darling articles of clothing from an old box of Summer and Mette's the other day and suggested she choose one for school. (It's bad enough that she's had to allow for her hair actually being done most days now.) So, I'm thrilled everyone loved her cheetah-print dress. (Actually, I think only one person told her they liked her dress. Bless that single soul. She knew it must mean everyone did. [Of course they did. Look at her.])

There are over 60 kids in kindergarten at Starling's school this year, and she is one of only about six kindergartner's who opted out of the full day option. I was a little surprised by that. But I'm truly grateful that I am lucky enough to be able to stay at home so that I get to go pick her up at noon each day and bring her back home with me. If she were a more demanding child perhaps I'd feel differently :), but she's truly just an absolutely pleasant and delightful little soul to have about.

Today after school she showed me a little booklet she made at school about her family (she'd drawn all ten kids); then she sat next to me (while I ate watermelon and bacon) and ate the little lunch she insists on packing in the morning and bringing to school (even though she just has to bring it back home); she created a little house out of cardboard and paper (you saw the beginnings above, but by the end it even had "Christmas lights"); painted her nails (as she is quite fond of doing and does shockingly well); jumped on the trampoline; came and practiced counting, writing and sounding out a few simple words with me; and talked Anders (who gets home earlier than the elementary kids) into making her hot cocoa.

This will be a happy little year for the two of us I think.

A Little Bit of Hansie

Hansie is the dearest boy. He says and does the best things. Look at him here--diligently reading the tiny Book of Mormon Mike gave him during sacrament meeting:

The other day he told me that drawing was one of the things he liked to do during his "leisure time". Leisure time? Haha. I love him:

He also said this recently: "The main reason I'm the tallest person in my class is because I don't drink Mountain Dew. Because every time you drink caffeine you get a little smaller."

And, after Mike helped Daisy get her new (very old) car running and Jesse said, "Daisy, now you have to baptize your car!" (referring to driving it at over 100 mph--which I do not allow), Hans matter-of-factly stated, "But first you have to seal it to the family." (Looks like we might be stuck with that Buick ... forever.)

Also, when we were discussing how we will need to get the neighbor who runs cows on the farm to relocate them so we can tear the fence out, Hans said, "We should just be able to keep Rod Curtis's cows. We deserve them anyway!" I'm not exactly sure how we deserve them, but he's probably right. 

Anyway, I just really like that kid so much. He's a small delight. And that is all.

Gingerbread Men, Scripture in Me and My Kids, Etc.

"Mom," Summer asked me, as we were driving somewhere the other day, "if you were older, but like not too old, and all your kids were grown, could you adopt a kid so you wouldn't be lonely?"

"Yah, I think you could," I responded.

Then I heard her muse to herself, "So you could just do that instead of make a gingerbread man."

"Who would just run away and get eaten by a fox," I added to her musings. :)

(Though I certainly wouldn't mind having a couple of tasty gingerbread folk along with these later-in-life babies of mine!)

I often pray that the things I teach my children will be in them. (I am no longer referring to gingerbread men who "run run" as fast as they can. :)) I don't care if they recall where the knowledge came from, I simply hope that somehow those things will be there--to grow and expand with the experiences they have, and to be called upon by the Spirit and woven together with scripture and other truths they learn and are taught by others.

Not often, but every once in a while, when I'm reading a mission letter or listening to a testimony or comment from one of my kids, I'll hear it: I'll catch a glimpse of my own testimony and assurances spoken in their own language and with their own understanding.

It comforts me that maybe God really is magnifying my stumbling and small efforts. And it brings to mind these hopeful words from Isaiah:

"My spirit that is upon thee, and my words which I have put in my mouth, shall not depart out of thy mouth, nor out of the mouth of thy seed, nor out of the mouth of thy seed's seed, saith the Lord, from henceforth and for ever."

And it makes me wonder how many of the truths that have become my very own ... have roots back in the things my parents taught and exemplified, and their parents before them, and their parents before them. ...

A woman spoke in our ward on Sunday. She spoke about the scriptures and of something her mother used to say to her that became "scripture" to her. As she talked, I recalled these words of promise to the early elders of the church as they headed out to teach:

"[T]hey shall speak as moved upon by the Holy Ghost. And whatsoever they shall speak when moved upon by the Holy Ghost shall be scripture, shall be the mind of the Lord, shall be the word of the Lord, shall be the voice of the Lord, and the power of God unto salvation."

I think Elder Teh summed up well what I feel and hope about all of this (scripture becoming our own and passing that to our children in how we speak so it becomes their own) when he said:

"[A]s we are increasingly coming to know the Savior, scriptural passages and the words of the prophets become so intimately meaningful to us that they become our own words. It is not about copying the words, feelings, and experiences of others as much as it is coming to know for ourselves, in our own unique way, by experimenting upon the word and receiving a witness from the Holy Ghost."

But! Back to the less serious. ...

Here is a birthday sign for Anders (from Abe) that I forgot to add to Anders' birthday post. 

And here Anders is with a nerf "gun" from a friend at school. We didn't even have a friend party. His friend just heard it was Anders' birthday and brought him a gift the next day. (And another friend brought him a giant cookie!) I am so so grateful for every kind kid and every person who has stepped out of their own comfort zone to make my kids feel comfortable and welcome here!

And, the electric fence is off for the next few months! Our landlord rented the field behind us to a woman who kept two horses (different from the herd of horses that were kept for some time in the field just beyond that), but she moves them during the winter months, and they've been gone for several weeks now. 

So, when our landlord (Chris) stopped by to winterize something the other day. I asked, "Hey, I've been meaning to ask you, do you still want that electric fence kept on now that the horses are gone? Or am I ok unplugging it?"

He gave me a slightly pained smile and replied, "Yah. You can unplug that. I thought it was already off actually ... and just found out the hard way that it wasn't." 

Hahaha. Poor fellow.

Anyway, with the fearsome fence off, my kids have been venturing much further afield:

(Much further. Anders and Hans told me their stuffed animals were exploring outer space when I asked what they were up to out there.)

Meanwhile:

Also, we almost missed (mist? haha hoho) the bus this morning. Usually the fog has faded by the time we walk to the bus stop, but not today!

We usually see the bus lights a full mile away, but we had no warning it was close at all until we suddenly saw it materialize through the mist--with us still a ways from it! (I should add: their pants. It was in fact pajama day.)

And we will end with this small hodgepodge:

Painted rocks.

At the farm to feed the geese. (Eek! That reminds me I need to get over there to get them fed again!)

A Christmas tree at the park. In October. (Who? Why?)

A lovely, artistic photo :) one of the kids took of my nightstand (after they'd knocked down the hummingbird Daisy needle-felted me).

Little friend ready to go in the stroller. (It's going to be tricky to get her to switch to wearing pants with winter approaching. She currently wears this dress, her pink dress, and, surprisingly, a red dress.)

The End.

So Many Lives and Their Happenings

One thing about having a large family is, well, I suppose this comes as no shock that this is how it would be, but! the thing about a large family is ... there are always so many significant events occurring! Hard and wonderful and ... all at once! It's just ... so many full lives growing and unfolding! I mean ... ten of them! All playing out under this umbrella of our parenthood.

And, of course, I know this will become even more astounding. After all, many of them are young yet, and their significant happenings often involve the simplest things: a wiggly tooth, beginning to note the silent e at the end of words, learning to ride a bike, adding a new turn of speech to their vocabulary (tonight, as I put Starling to bed, she, quite suddenly asked me, "Mom, could you do me a favor tomorrow?"--that's not a phrase she's ever used before--"could you do me a favor", and, even after she said it, her mind cast about, unsure of what was meant to follow such a request).

Soon they'll shift upwards in age and we will have the baptisms, driver's licenses, graduations, and mission calls of our current experience coinciding with weddings, baby announcements, moves, careers, and so on.

But we are certainly getting, and have gotten, tastes of that now. (After all, we were birthing Starling within days of Abe receiving his mission call.) And at times it feels there are sudden surges in the number of these happenings that causes me to feel more keenly the magnitude of what Mike and I have taken on and of what that taking on allows us to shape and witness. 

The pictures below aren't necessarily a proper visual representation of one of those surges. But I've felt it lately. Not only in Goldie receiving her mission call, but in birthdays, and dances, and winding up of driving hours for Penny's license, and in the discussions with and decisions of my kids. 

And here are a few recent images of this lot I'm discussing.

Penny went on her first date (Prom). Her cousin Tori lent her the beautiful dress. Here we are having my mom hem it:

And here she is all done up for the dance!

My Aunt Penny said she looked like a Shakespearean heroine in this next picture. I agree.

(Though with this small glance here we find ourselves wondering if it might be a Shakespearian comedy. Better that than a tragedy I suppose!)

And this little sprite had a birthday. Four. I don't actually believe it. She's still as much our baby as she could possibly be. "She's four," I might try to explain to someone. "But she's not like four."

Popsicles in the perpetual winter.

Starling and Hans refilling the pinata from Hans's birthday. (It's rare to be able to use a pinata twice. But, as luck would have it, someone just batted its legs off the first time. A little packing tape and it was back in business for Starling's birthday. [Though I'm sure she would have greatly preferred something more feminine and less ... green.])

Kids doing stuff before church. I'm really liking our noon church right now. 

The three days this past week that leapt from winter to summer, with all their accompanying increase in outdoor play, wore this dear boy out (and gave his forearms a rather bad sunburn to boot)!

Anders playing some silly game he'd begged me to get on my phone.

Starling requesting I take a picture of her. 

Starling asleep.

Penny took Starling on a little adventure on Saturday. Just the two of them. They walked to Lee's grocery store and bought goldfish crackers. Then went to McDonald's for ice-cream. Then to the library to choose a few books. And then (!) to the park (where they finally called me for a ride home). (Starling has no idea how wonderfully novel it is to have all of these older siblings doting on her! I didn't know it myself when I was her age. Though I experienced it just as fully!)

Mike and these four went to Logan to check on a few things one afternoon. And somehow ended up with two new, small four wheelers! I'm glad. All the small kids scrabble over riding the one little 50 we have up there. And even though our kids and their cousins are getting bigger, it's easy enough to wave off any concerns about them outgrowing these with thoughts of the years ahead of grandkids-coming-to-visit! 

Mette took this picture of Starling in the game closet on Easter and begged me to be sure to get it in one of our chatbooks. (Little printed photo books.)

Daisy got the kids making balloon animals one day and for weeks we had balloon animals and balloon swords and balloon hats piled in our living room. Even Starling became confident at twisting them into various shapes. 

One of the (many!) fun things Goldie did with the kids while we were in Hawaii was help them make rock candy suckers. I need to ask her if she took pictures of some of the other activities she did with them. (Goldie, did you take pictures of some of your other activities with the kids? :))

Abe and one of his climbing friends competed in their first indoor climbing competition. It was new to them since they primarily climb outdoors. But they had a lot of fun and, in the drawing afterwards, Abe won a new nearly-300-dollar climbing rope! Well worth the entry fee!

Also, after seeing our little "stained glass" window, Abe decided that would be a fun date idea. He and his date then promptly bested the window we had done at home with the following:

I had a cool experience not long ago that gave me some new insights to ponder. Hans was asking about my dad, and I was telling him that, even though he didn't get to know his Grandpa Gordy (as all his grandkids called him) here, that I was sure he knew him before he came to earth and that I was sure Grandpa Gordy was helping him all of the time now as well. 

But then a small part of me hesitated. I've long understood that angels are not limited by our constraints of time, and, while I don't know the particulars of their callings and missions on the other side of the veil, I have no trouble believing they are capable of being limitlessly involved in our lives. Still ... as I told my little Hans that his Grandpa Gordy, my dad was helping him, I felt a moment of hurt pause. A small stab of pain. "Is that true?" I wondered. "Is he really? Does he have time for even my littlest children?" My mind began thinking of the enormous number of grandchildren my parents have. (And now an increasingly impressive number of great grandchildren.) Many of them have enormously pressing and eternally significant struggles. "Surely," I wavered, "God must need to use my dad primarily in helping them. Where would there be energy to expend on a six-year-old boy whose troubles are rarely larger than a skinned knee or a sibling not sharing. ..."

But then, quite forcefully, an unasked for and unexpected, but clear and direct thought (and even wording) pressed into my mind. It was that my dad felt "great rejoicing in his great posterity". Those specific words were followed by an enlightened glimpse and understanding of my dad's current work and growth. The thing I, in one great swell, comprehended was that one of the ways my dad is most progressing towards godhood right now, one of the ways he is most being tutored in how to be like his savior and heavenly parents is in being able to be aware of and involved in the lives of every one of his increasing posterity. I was given to understand that he is not limited by the number of children and grandchildren he has. Nor does one new grandchild suddenly cause him to reach some tipping point where he can no longer keep up or has to slacken the aid and involvement he can extend to another; rather, his capacity and capability is expanding just as his family expands. He is loving learning this, I knew, and finding enormous joy in this unencumbered ability to have such detailed involvement with each of those coming through his line. And with many others besides!

I had one of those odd experiences of feeling my mortal "stakes and bounds" shaken and reordered. I'd been measuring God's ways of working within the constraints of my mortal limits and comprehension again. But this made such utter sense to me when I felt it. Of course it was true. We have no trouble believing that Heavenly Father and our Savior are intimately aware of each of one of us. Why would we not suppose that part of our progression towards becoming like them would involve gaining that same capacity and awareness. And what better place to start than with the ones sealed and bound to us? 

My mom used to answer, when someone would ask how her heart could hold enough love for another child (and I think this answer was from her own grandmother), that you didn't have to find room. Every child simply brought the love with them and your heart expanded with it. 

I love thinking that, even here, within our strained and limited mortal capacities, we are beginning that tutoring process as we reach and expand to care about and help our siblings, and our children, our nieces and nephews, and our stretching (and sometimes fumbling) attempts to extend that even further to take in neighbors and friends, our kids' friends, the children we teach in Primary and so on. It opens my eyes to a whole new view of the ways we progress and the things we experience to help us become more like God.