JeNeale

I love all my sisters-in-law (how lucky can a girl get?) but today I am thinking about one in particular - JeNeale. We met for the first time right after Cassie was born if I remember correctly. I had just returned home from my mission. I don't remember a lot about that initial meeting because I was so ga-ga over Jay but I remember her little toddler, Dalin, with his ice blue eyes and big smile, and her chubster baby, Cassie. I remember that after our wedding we stayed and opened all our gifts before leaving on our reception because she and Brent would be returning to Arizona before we got back and we wanted her to be able to share that with us. The very next morning we called her from our hotel because we had forgotten our coats and she and Brent met us in the parking lot. I felt then that both she and Brent were happy for us and loved us deeply.

Our first Christmas she gave us a cookbook with handwritten recipes. Some were recipes she and Brent enjoyed and many were recipes she and Jay had grown up with in mom's kitchen. I have since acquired many cookbooks but that first one is still the one I most often reach for. Two weeks ago the back cover fell off and recipes that I had slipped into pockets on the back came spilling out all over. I picked everything back up and rubber-banded the book together. Some things just can't be replaced. Some of our favorites have been tater tot casserole, mom's chicken enchiladas and her hot fudge sauce. I have made them hundreds of times.

Since then I have received many gifts from her. One birthday she gave me a book called Simple Abundance and a gratitude journal inscribed by her. Most recently I received a white long-sleeve T-Shirt that I wore 3 of the 7 days of the week during the winter and early spring. She seems to innately know what I like. I remember going to a clearance sale at Old Navy with her during a time when money was very tight. I was going simply for the company. As we headed to the register she quickly turned back and with a "don't give me any nonsense" look that only mothers possess she picked up a skirt she had seen me admiring and bought it for me. Many things have been bestowed upon our family by her bounteous hand. My children have received the most wonderful care packages from Aunt JeNeale with candy, small gifts, "real" golden dollars, cards and clothing. She is one of the most generous people I have ever known.

When I have gone through those times in my life that have been very painful she is one with whom I have shared my deepest sorrows. After London died she was the one who pointed out that I might be going through clinical depression and the one who urged me to get help. She was the one I called and still call when I have questions or concerns about this illness.
She came with other family members and held our baby and cried and wrote both Jay and I individual and deeply personal letters of encouragement that we still treasure. She even had a grandchild named London (Cassie's doll). :) During another profoundly difficult time in my life she listened quietly and became an advocate for me and the decisions I sometimes made that didn't appear to make sense.

She does not judge me for the foolish things I've done or the unkind or downright absurd things I have said like the time right after my mission to a third world country when my heart was broken over the poverty of those great people and I wildly stated that mothers shouldn't rub expensive Bath and Body Works lotion on their daughters when other mothers didn't even have milk for their babies. I still want other mothers and children to have what they need and try to be aware and helpful but, I confess, sometimes Lacey Grace smells a little like a human grapefruit proving that JeNeale is kind enough to love and forgive even a complete hypocrite. She always gives me the benefit of the doubt.

She loves my children and my husband and wants our family to succeed. I feel that. She laughs at our jokes and compliments budding talents. Last year when Topher performed his very rudimentary tap dance for our family I had tears come to my eyes. I looked around at all the family noting their encouraging and amused smiles and and saw that JeNeale was looking at me. No words were spoken but in that moment I felt her vicarious love of my son and her tender sentiment toward me - an inordinately pleased mother.

She loves the work that Jay does and values his skills. She gives genuine compliments to him and to me and to our children. Once, after speaking at a funeral and completely losing my composure I found a note which I still have tucked away in my scripture journal. Among other things it said, "I am blessed to be your sister."

That is exactly how I feel. Blessed.

Things I love

1. The feeling of a 22 pound baby boy snuggled up against me as I go downstairs. The sound of his babbling and the way he reaches for me everytime he sees me. When he sees the piano he makes little wimpering sounds until someone sits down with him and lets him play.

2. Hamburgers or anything else fresh off the grill

3. The sound of croaking coming from all the ponds and swamps nearby. When I hear this for the first time each spring I roll down all the windows and listen in rapture. This is the song of spring after a long New England winter.

4. Topher's new glasses - red frames with thick black temples. Very hip. He is his father's boy.

5. Homemade pretzels hot from the oven and a houseful of little friends eager for a bite. Rolling them out with my good friend Jen who can do anything and noting that, amazingly, there is one thing I can do that she can't.

6. Talking with Jay. About art and music and children and our friends, the Devlins, who are taking the discussions. About books and writing and general conference and his job. About sticks and stones. But not about the cost of gasoline, or the fact that the missionaries are coming over for dinner and confirmed with him and not with me, or that he caught an older gentleman who stood up in Sacrament Meeting and fainted while I sat 3 chairs away, totally engrossed in a talk and didn't see. (I only learned that this happened tonight from another church member who observed the whole thing from several rows behind and the opposite side of the chapel!!!)

7. Emergency lullabies composed spontaneously by LG when Lincoln starts crying with words like, "Don't cry, my little candy heart," repeated over and over very softly to random melodies.

8. Sleeping through the night

9. Ronan's love of children and his attention to their needs. I call him "The friend of children" like Joseph Smith was sometimes called because he is. I love this tender side of a tough little boy.

10. My children's giggles when I read from the Dragonslayer's Academy series at night. The way they are understanding the scriptures and feeling the love of the Savior. Their courage to stand alone in a school where there are only 4 other members of the church. Their kindness.

Sticks and stones

My children's favorite playthings are sticks. Our front porch is covered with walking sticks, swords, spears, and lances, and wands. I remember being a little bit surprised that a close friend of mine, the mother of many boys, had so many pretend weapons for her sons to play with; swords, guns, etc.. I gave in when my boys started biting their toast into the shape of pistols and sword fighting with bananas. We made the rule that the fellas couldn't point the guns at each other but had to shoot wild beasts or dangerous monsters and other such creatures. Is that rule realistic? or is it absurd? I don't know. But that's how it is at our house.

Slaying imaginary dragons with stick swords only brings so much satisfaction, though. They don't really make very challenging opponents. So dueling occurs in earnest in the forest around our house. It's not just our boys, it's all the boys and some of the girls in our neck of the woods. For the most part it's good natured fighting (did I really just write that?) and the worst injuries sustained to this point have been grazed knuckles. The clacking of weaponry outside our house is as familiar to us here as the croaking of frogs.

Recently our neighbor, Jenn, who grew up in Colorado wondered out loud, "What is it with our kids and sticks? I don't remember ever playing with a stick when I was growing up. Jay matter of factly reminded, "What sticks? We had no trees." Oh, yeah.

Rocks are right up there. I rarely turn on the dryer without hearing thudding sounds. I know instantly that the rocks I just cleaned out of the washer weren't the only ones left in pockets. Every day when I find rocks on the counter I open the front door and throw them back out into the driveway. This works well as long as no one is sword fighting in that precise location. Occasionally one of the children will rediscover a rock that they had previously brought in for their "collection" and bring it in again. This astonishes me. "How can you be sure it is the very same rock?' you may be thinking. One day we put rocks in the oven and when they were very hot we drew with crayons on one side of them. When the children weren't looking a few days later I chucked those guys (the rocks) back out into the driveway. Within days the children had found all of the crayon rocks and another that didn't have crayon but was shaped like a heart and they had been returned to their home on the kitchen island.

My Easter Talk

I gave a talk on Easter Sunday that I'd love to share but it's way to long and way too personal to put on my blog. If anyone is interested leave me your E-Mail. I feel a little embarrassed soliciting readership but I share it because I learned so much and because I love you guys - my family. I'd love to read any of your talks since I never am there to hear them and learn from you in person.

Wintry walk

Two days ago I took the kids for a walk/bike ride - our first of the season. It was 43 degrees and there is still snow everywhere but I couldn't help myself. I wrapped Lincoln in multitudinous blankets and he promptly fell asleep. I pushed my baby in the stroller and Lacey Grace pushed her baby in her's while the boys pedaled up and down the road. After we had walked up the driveway and onto the road where we live Lace was ready to stop for a snack. From underneath her doll she produced a bag of potato chips and a lemon yogurt with a spoon. Each brother was given four potato chips and a bite of yogurt. She helped herself to a few bites and then the chips went back into the stroller. The yogurt and spoon were left on a nearby wall to wait for our return and on we went. I tried to make chit chat with Lacey asking the name of her baby (Crystal Diamond Flower) and pretending that we were two mothers out on a walk with our babies but she soon set me straight. She was my daughter and her baby was actually a doll so that was that. The boys stopped their bikes at a small marshy area where we always stop on this particular walk and found a felled tree, skinny but surprisingly long, that they took turns toppling into the swamp. At this point there was a little arguing about so-and-so tossing the tree too far on purpose so the other couldn't retrieve it and so-and-so denying that it was true and then we carried on. There is an idyllic little neighborhood not far from where we live that is paved (we live on a dirt road - welcome to New Hampshire) and it's a great place for walks. There was nothing spectacular about the outing. In fact, on the way home we stopped so many times to warm Lacey's cold hands that I felt like a school bus. Ronan, by contrast, was riding maniacally and had shed his sweatshirt so we used that to wrap LG's hands. Topher complained once that Ronan had cut him off (shocker) and "put them in danger" (which he had) but for the most part there was much laughter, attention to rule following (not going to far ahead and circling back to check in, stopping at intersections (there's only one - again, welcome to NH)), and plenty of enjoying each other's company. It was a joyful outing. I just want to try to be more grateful for moments like this and remember the details of ordinary days.

P.S. Lacey Grace has a friend boy playing over this morning and I just overheard a bunch of talk about a kiss they had seen on a movie. The highlight:
LG: ...and then she had a true love kiss, from, not her prince, but....
Friend boy Aaron Johnson: Yes, but that was just gross!
Ah, the differences between little girls and little boys.

One other conversation recently heard between Lacey Grace and her doll Strawberry Shortcake:
Strawberry Shortcake: She started it! (referring to another doll)
LG (patiently but firmly): Strawberry Shortcake, soap and time out. (This means that Strawberry has to have soap in her mouth and have a time out which I felt was a little extreme but I'm not the parent...)
LG: I'm sorry, darling. (sound of squirting - we use soft soap at our house)
Strawberry Shortcake: Gagging sounds
Me: hushed giggling

Withdrawals

I have logged on to various blogs of certain people related to me over and over and over again and no change! No new post! Nothing! One blog in particular has not been updated since March 20th!!! Another since Easter! I think you should know that I'm starting to tremble and break out in cold sweats.

April Fool's Day

April Fool's Day was never a huge holiday around our house and this is why. One year when my youngest brothers were very small my mother bought several boxes of sugared cereal which was a big deal. She replaced the Froot Loops and Lucky Charms with our usual, corn flakes, and waited and watched. When Kelly, expecting manna, poured corn flakes into his bowl he burst into tears. That was the end of my mother's April Fool's antics.

I, however, still long each year for a harmless little family joke. Our children's favorite was the year Jay and I served up ice cream for breakfast. My favorite was 2004 when Lacey Grace was just shy of one year old. From my journal: I played my first April Fool's joke on my children this year. Topher is 6 and Ronan is 4 - old enough to be included in the hallowed April Fool's tradition of Gotcha!. I undressed Lacey Grace and with a red marker I made little dots all over her body like Chicken Pox. When I completed my art project I carried her into the bathroom where Ronan was a shriveled raisin (of the golden variety) in the bathtub. Promptly, he played into my hands by saying, "Mom, why does Lacey have red spots all over her?" "Oh my," I gasped in mock alarm, "Lacey has the Chicken Pox!" Topher came racing in from doing homework at the kitchen table. He looked at Lacey quizzically and then said with one eyebrow cocked, "Mom, it looks like someone has drawn all over the baby with a red magic marker." "What?!!!" I spluttered. "How could you tell?" So much for bluffing. A poker face has never been my strong suit. We all laughed a little (Ronan remaining fairly bamboozled at the idea that on one day of the year it's O.K. to draw on the baby) and I went in to help Topher with his homework. I heard a series of splashes from the bathroom and not long afterward Lacey Grace came scooting out of the bathroom at record speed wearing a 50 pound diaper. There was only one red dot remaining at the top of her left cheek. Ronan had put his sister in the tub with him and "washed her off." This April Fool's Day the joke is on me.