Glimpses of Christmas 2009

Mom and Dad relaxing amidst the Christmas madness.

Eli unwrapping DJ Hero, because we surely don't already have enough video game crap (Did I really say that??) in this house. I know, right?

Seth modeling the "cool" new jacket that he got from his grandma. Am I imagining it, or does he look way too grown up in this photo? Seth, you are nine years old. You are a baby. Seriously.

Their first picture as an engaged couple! Are they adorable, or what???





Gerald took this "action" photo just as Shulamith came through the front door and up the stairs to show me her ring. She was so surprised! Without question, this is one moment neither of us will ever forget.








So there you have it, just a few glimpses of Christmas, 2009. I don't post many pictures to this blog because I'm really bad at it. It literally took me three times as long to figure out how to post these five measly pictures than it ever takes me to write a typical blog post. Writing comes naturally; copying and pasting pictures does not. The process is just not intuitive, at least not to me. But I managed to get five pictures here, so feel free to congratulate me. And now I can leave Christmas 2009 in the past, and think about an idea for a New Year's blog post. Which is far more fun than copying and pasting pictures. :-)

Reactions

It is now 7:30 p.m. on December 25, 2009. Christmas Day. It is quiet. Luke, Isaiah, and Eli have gone back to the movie theatre to watch "Avatar." Despite its high critical acclaim, a movie in which blue creatures with tails fly around does not appeal to Shulamith or me. Seth is downstairs fully engrossed in his new Bakugan video game. Shulamith is upstairs talking to Matt on the phone. They do that a lot these days. Have long phone conversations. In between their marathon text conversations. True love. So it is quiet here on the middle level of the house. I'm taking a moment to enjoy the calm. Christmas music (which I won't get to hear for another 10 - 11 months) plays softly in the background. Life is good. Would you like to hear some reactions from this morning's festivities?

1. I awoke before any of the kids. Seriously, this is an absolute first. What can it mean? That they are growing up whether I like it or not?

2. Eli was the first of the kids to get up, so excited. He is a true Webster; I think he loves Christmas nearly as much as I do.

3. Already he (Eli) was receiving text message greetings from his friends, mostly girls. This continued throughout the morning. Each time, he'd say, "Oh, it was Andrea," or "Ah, Kourtney," or "Hey, it's Brittany." I stopped counting at 10.

4. In the oven were caramel sticky rolls, which Shulamith had left overnight to rise. And rise they did. Meine Gute! She put all 36 rolls in one bunt pan. By morning they were literally overflowing, and ultimately, they were delicious. Thank you, Shulamith, for the yummy Christmas breakfast.

5. Let the opening begin! As is tradition, we began with Seth and went through the family in order of age, one gift at a time. Three hours later, we were finished. Some favorite lines follow:

6. Isaiah, after receiving a down comforter: "Wow, great. But it would have been better this past semester when my stupid roommate kept the heat off and the window open no matter how cold it was." This roommate had other much more serious issues (kleptomania, anyone?), and fortunately, he has moved out.

7. Shulamith, EVERY time someone was about to take her picture: "Make sure you get my ring in the picture....make sure you get my ring!"

8. Gerald, every time he received an article of clothing: "That'll work."

9. Seth, even before he opened his Nintendo DSI: "I am filled with joy!"

10. Luke, after receiving a cookbook called A Man, a Can, and a Plan: "This is good. Look....just a can of tuna + some cream cheese + noodles = an amazing meal!"

11. Me, the usual comment spoken repeatedly throughout the gift-opening: "Slow down. Once it's over, it's OVER!"

And over it is. For another year. But here's the good news. Remember how much I dislike the month of January? You know....it's still cold, Christmas is over, and my big kids go back to school and work? Remember that? Well, this year January will be different. It will be glorious. The weekend of the 16th, I'll fly to Salt Lake City to help Shulamith and Matt put the finishing touches on wedding plans. Then on January 30th, Gerald and I will drive to Idaho Falls and meet Shulamith and Matt to take her through the temple. Clearly, the best January ever.

I can't say for sure that it was the best Christmas ever because there have been so many magical ones in the past, and I know the future holds so many many more, but without question it ranked up near the top. So I conclude on this Christmas night, in a quiet home (yes, Seth is still playing video games, and Shulamith is still talking to Matt) listening to Faith Hill sing "Oh Holy Night."

Love to all who read this. Lots and lots of love.

Engaged!

How good are you at keeping secrets? I want you to know that I am pretty much an expert. Or maybe I'm just a really good liar? In either case, Matt and I successfully pulled off Shulamith's engagement surprise flawlessly. Want details??

Okay.

About two weeks ago, she was in Texas attending the master's graduation of her friend and former roommate, Katie. While she was away, Matt called, and we began plotting. They were scheduled to drive to Billings this past Saturday. Matt had already ordered the ring which would be ready Friday at 5 pm; however, he told Shulamith that he didn't get it ordered soon enough to beat the Christmas rush, so sadly, it would not be ready until after the new year. Poor Shulamith was so disappointed, wanting to have it before Christmas, especially since she was coming home. Throughout the following week, he and I discussed various options as he decided exactly how he wanted to surprise her. It was SOOO hard to keep the secret; I was afraid I would slip every time I talked to her. Fortunately, I didn't, and everything went as planned.

Matt secretly picked up the ring Friday just before picking Shulamith up at her school. From there they drove up to Ogden and stayed overnight with Matt's aunt and uncle, cutting off over an hour from their drive the following morning. The weather cooperated beautifully, and they arrived in Billings Saturday mid-afternoon. We met them at the mall and wandered through every jewelery store, attempting to find a ring like Shulamith's because, as far as she knew, I would not get to see it until mid-January when I fly down for MLK weekend. I tried to act sufficiently sad that I would be the very last one to see it, and frustrated that they couldn't find one like it in any store. Ah, I surely missed my calling as an actress!

That night was the Musical Feast at Skyview, a full course dinner accompanied by music, singing, and dancing. We all attended that to watch Eli perform. It was my fourth time attending this event (Isaiah used to be in choir too), and generally, I enjoy the experience thoroughly. This time, though, it seemed to drag on FOREVER, second by second, as the excitement/tension increased between Matt and me, waiting not so patiently for it to end. When it finally did, we headed home. At this point, my awesome acting skills were in full swing. I began lamenting the fact that I had forgotten to buy syrup for Sunday breakfast the following morning. Shulamith suggested that I call Eli who was still at the high school. I went in the kitchen and pretended to call Eli and then reported that his phone went straight to voice mail. "Why don't you try Isaiah," she then suggested. Sheesh! Okay. Same story.

Finally, Matt volunteered that the two of them would go get the syrup. Shulamith was NOT enthusiastic but reluctantly agreed. Just then, her favorite Neil Diamond Christmas song came on the stereo. "I can't leave; this is my favorite song!" she said. Gerald told her we'd play it again when she got back. "Just go!"

From here, I can no longer report first hand. I know what happened next involves a swing in a park, a boy down on one knee in the snow, and a very surprised girl. I don't think she's stopped smiling since. They are so in love. It's a joy to watch.

As an aside, I should say that there are any number of ways Matt could have proposed, and in any number of locations. He could certainly have given her the ring in Salt Lake City and celebrated with all their friends. But he didn't. He waited to do it here in Billings so I could be a part of it.

And I won't ever forget that.

You Froze Through Them

This morning I was lamenting the fact that Christmas is but a week and a day away. For most, this a good thing, but well, I'm a bit of a little kid when it comes to Christmas. I want the season to last a long time. I generally get pretty sad once it's over. January is by far the toughest month of the year for me. Christmas is over. It's still cold. My big kids are gone. It's not good. And it's seriously the longest month of the year. I'm pretty sure January is twice as long as December.

So I said to Gerald this morning, "How can it be December 17th already? Wasn't it just the other day people were chastising me for playing Christmas music before Thanksgiving? What happened to the first two weeks of December?" His reply, "You froze through them."

True enough.

This is our fifth winter in Montana, so I ought to be accustomed to this weather by now, but I swear this year must be the worst. Goodness. When I left "Bethlehem" one evening last week, the temperature inside my van read -17 degrees. No, I'm not kidding! Do you see the minus sign before that number 17? For days the temperature didn't reach zero. When it's that cold, it doesn't matter how many items of clothing a person puts on, it simply hurts to be outside. Additionally, for me at least, it's impossible to ever fully warm up. All day. I'm literally cold all day. For what it's worth, it was a balmy 32 degrees this morning as I drove to school. The melted ice on top of the the snow made for slick roads, but I am not complaining. I'll take positive 32.

So I froze through the first two weeks of December which, I guess, is why I can't remember them. Now we have just over a week until the glorious day. Is that enough time to fully appreciate the beauty of the season? No, but I'll do what I can. Today is my last final exam, Luke and Isaiah are already home, and Shulamith and Matt arrive Saturday. A majority of the shopping is done, with gifts wrapped and under the tree. The house is decorated. Cards are addressed and ready to send. Once Shulamith gets home, we'll do some baking and some final shopping, especially to help Santa out with stockings.

And then, all too soon, but filled with unparalleled joy: Christmas Day!

Oh wait....and then it will be January. Okay, we won't even talk about that now.

Experience Bethlehem

O little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie;
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by;

Many of us here in Billings, Montana have had the rare opportunity to visit "Bethlehem" these past two weeks. No, we did not perfect the science of time travel (as though that were possible); however, after five years, the Billings East Stake once again "built" the city right in the stake center's cultural hall and invited the Billings community to visit. Nearly 4,000 people did just that.

They were greeted by Roman guards who insisted they shout "Hail Caesar" before going forth to be counted and to pay their taxes. Tax collectors demanded shekels before the people were allowed passage into a city filled with travelers arriving from all parts of the land because of the census. Once inside Bethlehem, tour guides escorted them through the city, first visiting the well where women gather to fetch water. Next, they visited the bakery. For one shekel, they could purchase delicious freshly-baked bread. Onward through the market they progressed, stopping next at the Jewish school, where young boys are taught how to be people of the covenant (Seth, in photo above) and play a game called Dreidel, symbolizing the miracle of Hannukah.

Next, the tour traveled through the open fruit and vegetable market. Using any remaining shekels, they could purchase a fresh orange or apple. At the market, they happen upon a young couple, also in Bethlehem for the census. They are weary from their travels and in need of a place to stay, as the woman is nearly ready to deliver her baby. Along with this couple, the visitors on tour go to the inn to see if there is room available. Unfortunately, the innkeeper answers the door and reports that there is absolutely no room in the inn. It has been booked solid for two weeks. The young man begs for help for his wife, but the innkeeper tells him that already people are sleeping on the floor. He suggests they go out in the fields on the outskirts of town where perhaps they can find some sort of shelter used for animals.

The young couple goes ahead of the group in search of this shelter. After a few minutes, the tour follows, finding shepherds in the field and eventually an angel with the words:

"Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord."

Ultimately, the tour continues to a manger scene, with the young couple from before; their newborn babe; shepherds; and wise men, come to worship Him.

And there they leave the City of Bethlehem and return to the present time and the extremely cold city of Billings. Hopefully, their experience in Bethlehem will warm them long after, as they go forth to celebrate the miracle that happened there so long ago.

How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given !
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of His heaven.

Family Pictures

Family pictures. Do the words strike terror deep into your soul? They do for me. You see, I am old enough to remember a time prior to digital photography. Remember when you had to put film in your camera? Remember when you had to wait to have it developed before you could see the pictures? Yeah, this was not a good thing for someone as vain as I am. My mother once commented, "Oh vanity, thy name is Terrianne," and never has she spoken truer words. I am terribly self-critical when it comes to how I look, and here's the thing: I am just not very photogenic. Usually in pictures, I look like I'm drunk. Not that I've ever been drunk; I haven't. But I think that's how I would look, and it is not good.

I remember taking our four little kids (this was the pre-Seth era) to get family photos. So much preparation and time went in to selecting just the right outfits for everyone. Then there was the effort to make sure the kids all had sufficient sleep and that we weren't scheduled at the photo studio around nap time or meal time. We tried to think of everything! And I truly did my best too, taking care with hair and make-up. Nevertheless, more often than not, we'd go through all the hassle of getting the pictures taken and all the expense of paying for them, only to find that I looked awful. I mean totally horrific! And so I would tear up the pictures and never use them. I can't even tell you how many times this happened.

So you can imagine my excitement by the advent of digital photography. Really? I could actually see the pictures ahead of time before I decided to buy? A glorious "delete" button would allow me to banish all traces of ugliness, rather than having to wait for the pictures themselves, decide which ones (usually all of them) needed to be torn up, and then search for and destroy the negatives as well. Wow! My world suddenly improved incredibly and dramatically.

Why then does the thought of pictures still illicit terror? Hmm. Habit, I guess. It's probably a reaction to years of desiring decent family pictures, trying so hard to get them, and failing so miserably. Also, I suppose even with digital, it's not always easy to get seven people to look good simultaneously. We don't have little, little kids any more, so some of the pressure is off, but Seth still gets squirmy, and even the parents and the big kids get tired. The key now is a good photographer. I am surprisingly pleased with these latest photos, and it's all thanks to our photographer, Thad. He took meticulous care with each step of the process, and it shows. So thank you, Thad.

And thank you, technology, for once again making my life better, and in this case specifically, taking some of the terror out of family pictures.

Seth's Journal of Emotions

Two nights ago Seth was talking to me about his Journal of Emotions. It's apparently a record students in his class keep to express their emotions each day. Our conversation was as follows:

Seth: I wish Shulamith would get engaged.

Me: Why?

Seth: Because then I could write about it in my Journal of Emotions.

Me: What would you write?

Seth: I would write "I am ecstatic/excited because my sister is engaged. She is going to marry my favorite person in the whole world: Matt!!!"

Okay, Shulamith and Matt....apparently Seth is ready for something official. :-)

I know, right?

I know, right?

What a lovely expression! It encompasses so much and is applicable to so many situations. For example:

Conversation between Gerald and me:

Me: Guess what?

Gerald: What?

Me: Isaiah and I were just chatting on Facebook, and he told me he's decided to start playing the piano again just for fun. He printed out two songs today and worked on them for about an hour.

Gerald: Good.

Me: I know, right?

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Conversation between one of my students and me:

Student: Can I show you some extra credit errors I found?

Me: Absolutely!

Student (after showing me the errors): It was really fun looking for these once I got into it.

Me: I know, right?

********************************

Conversation between Shulamith and me:

Shulamith: How was your day?

Me: Okay, but it's hard to come back to school after a holiday.

Shulamith: Me too. I'm tired, and I don't want to go to my class after school.

Me: I don't blame you one bit. Seriously, there should be no school between Thanksgiving and New Year's.

Shulamith: I know, right?

********************************

Text conversation between Matt and me:

Matt: I thought I'd tell you some of the food I've convinced Shulamith to try lately.

Me: Seriously? What?

Matt: She tried sushi, coconut shrimp...I know, right?..., eggplant, and zucchini.

Me: I am impressed! Where have you been all my life?

[Note: He still hasn't succeeded in convincing her to try any form of fruit, but I have high hopes for the future.]

********************************

Those are only a few of the many applications of this awesome expression. I could really go on and on. Except Gerald does not understand. He doesn't get it. Until last night, every time I used this expression in a text message, he would reply, "You know what?" At that point I would simply laugh and give up. How do you explain something so perfectly obvious? Finally, last night, he insisted on an explanation. "What are you talking about when you say that? I'm totally confused." I did my best to explain, but the meaning was lost in translation.

And that is not the worst of it. He says that until I stop saying "I know, right?" (like THAT is going to happen), he'll continue to use some of the words I detest. And there are many, many. Here is a sampling of these exceedingly bothersome words:

bicycle, supermarket, hubby, nibble, drowsy, tend (when you mean care for children; it's okay with sheep), hamper, supper, brrrr (to express cold), and ALL those words that begin with the letter "P" and deal with bathroom issues, the very worst being "potty." Ick... I can barely stand to write it here. And then of course there's the one that is so awful, I refuse to write it here and tarnish my lovely blog, but I can tell you the proper replacement for it: bath tissue. Whew! There are more. Lots more. I'm growing exasperated just thinking about them.

So if you are sympathizing with me right now, wondering why people can't just be normal and use good words instead of stupid words, my reply to you is

I know, right?

A Peek

As a comment on my recent Facebook status: "Terrianne is doing turkey preparation, overjoyed to have all five of her babies sleeping soundly under the same roof," a woman in our ward replied: "Welcome to a peek at the Celestial Kingdom." I hadn't thought of it that way. Leave it to Annette to put the words and feelings together so perfectly to express a thought so lovely. A peek at the Celestial Kingdom! Yes, that is right.

As I sit here at the dining room table, distracted by the noise of a roaring game of Hearts played enthusiastically by Shulamith, Isaiah, Eli and Seth, I am overcome with gratitude to Heavenly Father for entrusting to my care five of His most incredible children. They were lent to me for such a short time, and I love them more than life. I surely do not deserve to be their mom, yet it is my sincere honor to attempt to fill that role.

A peek at the Celestial Kingdom.

I can't fully explain how it feels to have them all here at the same time; it happens so rarely. Perhaps it is so significant to me because I only had all of them living at home for a short time. Luke was 15 when Seth was born, and he left for college just three years later. The very best three years those were. Shulamith left just one year later. Now, instead, we wait for the special occasions: holidays, summer breaks, baptisms, graduations, weddings (in the future) when we can all be together. Do we have room for all seven of us in this house? No. Do we care? No. We're so happy to be together that we don't mind the coziness. Well, not for the most part anyway. I don't mind it one bit, but Seth gets mildly frustrated in the mornings, when he wakes up with no place to play. Luke is asleep in Seth's room. Shulamith is asleep downstairs in the family room. Isaiah is asleep on the couch in the living room. What's a kid to do?

Do we make the classic, perfect family? Is there constant harmony every second? Ahh, not so much. We have all sorts of issues, the result of a group of people with such diverse ages, personalities, and interests. Most notably, Seth is only nine, and while he is truly everyone's favorite, he is also everyone's greatest challenge. He so desperately wants to be "one of the big kids." But at the end of the day, even if that end doesn't come until the wee hours of the morning following a night of video-games, he is still only nine. And nine-year-olds need rest. They need to go to bed before 2:00 a.m. They need more than 5 or 6 hours of sleep, and when they don't get it, especially for several days in a row, the result is, well, go ahead and use your imagination.

Still, if this is a peek at the Celestial Kingdom, I'll take it. I will SO take it. In a heartbeat. Without question. And I'll thankfully take another peek in only a couple weeks when they all come back for Christmas.

Happy Thanksgiving.

TWIRP

TWIRP = The Woman Is Required to Pay, a girl-ask-guy formal dance at Skyview High School, was held last evening. Pictured here are Eli and his date, Courtney, just before they headed out for this event. They went with seven other couples, so sixteen kids total. The eight girls planned everything, and not to come across as sexist in any way, but the detailed planning was evident of this.

They began at the home of one of the girls at 6:00 for pictures. Parents were invited, so you can imagine the masses of people: lovely girls in stunning gowns, hair professionally styled, make-up perfect; dashing young men decked out in tuxedos to match their dates' dresses; proud parents hovering around with cameras, trying to capture the magic in photos. Once each couple had a turn for individual photos, group pictures were taken of first the girls, then the guys, then the eight couples together. Finally, the parents said goodbye (Have fun! Be safe! Etc.), and the kids feasted on appetizers. Next they progressed to another girl's home for salad and the main course: grilled steak and chicken. Following dinner, they stopped by one more house for dessert, pumpkin cheesecake and rich chocolate layer cake.

And then it was off to the dance! Which begs the question, could they really dance, or even move, after all that food? Maybe that's why Eli's reports on the dance itself are somewhat sketchy; the theme was "Masquerade," and the music was good. That's basically all I know.

After the dance, all sixteen kids converged on another house and changed into casual clothes for an after-dance party which included billiards, movies, and more snacks. Eli arrived home shortly before 2:00 a.m. His first dance. His first date. After such an evening, I have to wonder... how will anything in the future compare?

Anticipation

What are you anticipating today? Do you enjoy the waiting, the anxious excitement for wonderful things to come? Is the anticipation all part of the fun?

Several of my friends and I have been anticipating an event for an entire year: the second movie in the "Twilight" series, "New Moon." Last year, we went to "Twilight" on opening day, November 21st. My friend's baby was barely a month old, and I got to cuddle her through the entire film. Think of it: Edward on the big screen, and Hanna in my arms. Pure delight. Tomorrow night (well technically VERY early Friday morning), the year of waiting will conclude. At 6:00 p.m., several of us will go to dinner together as the start to our girls' night out. At 9:00 p.m., we will watch "Twilight" once again. This will be my the seventh time, but I'm sure others have watched it even more times than that. Then, at 12:01, we will watch "New Moon." I won't have baby Hanna this time; she has grown into the sweetest little person, who loves to run around everywhere, so she'll have to stay home with her dad.

Yes, my friends, it's really almost time. Just 34 more hours to wait.

What else am I anticipating today?

Ah, yes, once my body recovers from getting out of a movie at 3:00 a.m.; driving the half hour home; sleeping three hours; and then getting up, ready, and back to the college to teach my 8:00 a.m. class, yet another exciting event looms on the horizon: Thanksgiving. And it is not just another ordinary Thanksgiving either. As you know, this whole situation with not one, not two, but THREE of my five kids living far away does not really appeal to me. The good news is that Tuesday at 6:00 p.m., Shulamith lands in Billings, followed the next day by Luke and Isaiah at 1:00 p.m. and 8:00 p.m. respectively. The seven of us home together for Thanksgiving....this even trumps "New Moon."

So I ask once again, "What are YOU anticipating today?"

Ecstatic

Most days, I'm home by the time Seth gets here. Two days in the week, however, I have a late class, so I can't quite make it home in time. Often, Eli gets here at about the same time Seth does, but occasionally, Eli has to work on one of my late days. Today was such a day.

When this occurs, I always call Seth right at the time I think he should be home to make sure he got there safely and all is well. When I called today, the following conversation transpired:

Seth: Hello!

Me: Hi Seth. How are you?

Seth: Ecstatic!

Me: Really? Why are you ecstatic?

Seth: Because today we had the treasure box, and I bought FIVE things, and I still have over $1,000 left.

Me: Wow, that's amazing. I can see why you are so happy. I'm leaving school right now, so I'll be there very soon. Bye.

Seth: Bye.

You might remember from an earlier post that in Seth's class, life is based on a monetary system of rewards. The kids earn money by doing things such as getting their planners signed ($20), pulling no bad-behavior tickets all day ($50), showing good citizenship without being asked ($5 - $50), and wearing the appropriate clothing for Spirit Week ($100).

Then they have to pay money for various things as well. Each month they have to pay $50 to rent their desks. Field trips are quite expensive: $500 - $1,000! They also have to pay money for disruptive behavior or assignments not completed, but Seth, of course, never has to do that.

Today was one of the best days of all: A Treasure Chest Day! Every 3 - 4 weeks, Mrs. Hankins brings out the treasure chest. In it are amazing treasures of all sorts for sale: candy, juice, gum, bags of chips, pens, mechanical pencils, Christmas erasers, notepads, small games, and more great things that Seth can't remember at the moment.

It's a shopping extravaganza! Where was this when I was in fourth grade? Shop-a-holic that I am, this could have brought tremendous joy to my educational experience.

So what did Seth buy today? Let's see. He bought a pack of gum, a SunnyD juice bottle, a Juicy Drop Pop, a bag of cheese chips, and a candy-filled plastic cell phone. What a haul! Clearly enough to make any nine-year-old feel ecstatic, wouldn't you say?

And he still has over $1,000 left to save for next time. Go Seth!

Bring It On!

I am interested to know your opinions on an age-old dilemma: How soon is too soon to begin celebrating the Christmas season? It's a quandary I've examined many times because, you see, I absolutely love Christmas. I love everything about it. I love the music, the shopping, the crowds. I love the decorations, the children's programs, the food. I love the caroling, the greeting cards, the parties, the surprises. I love to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and How the Grinch Stole Christmas. I even love the traffic jams at the mall. I love being part of all of it. I seriously can't think of a single thing about Christmas that I don't like. Still, as much as I love it, I can't celebrate it twelve months out of the year, so the question remains: How soon is too soon to start?

I used to force myself to wait until Thanksgiving to begin playing Christmas music. About two years ago, I decided that was dumb. Eli begins learning new Christmas songs on the piano at the start of November, so it's already playing in my house. Why shouldn't I also listen to my holiday CDs? No reason.

My friend and I were in the mall this past Friday night, and already there were decorations and lights, along with Christmas carols playing in the background. Did that bother me? Absolutely not! I loved it. Is it a marketing technique designed to get people to spend money? Of course. Do I care? No! I thoroughly enjoyed every bit of it.

So what about decorations at home? Hmmm. When we lived in Washington, our tradition was to go to this lovely Christmas tree farm the day after Thanksgiving and cut down our tree. This place had every variety of tree with dozens of shapes and sizes from which to choose. They served hot chocolate or cider and cookies, and sometimes, even Santa was there! It was fabulous. Then we moved to Montana, where apparently, they don't grow Christmas trees. Sad. The only option if you want a real tree is to buy an already-cut one from a stand. Well, I've heard you can drive into the mountains and cut down a tree, but I've also heard that since these trees aren't grown to be Christmas trees, they don't really look very good. I can't say for sure if that's true because we haven't tried it.

Our first year here, we bought a pre-cut tree from a stand the day after Thanksgiving. We decorated it as usual with our many, many decorations. It was lovely. For about two weeks. Then it started to turn brown. Then it completely turned brown. Then the brown pine needles fell all over the floor. Blah! We had to take off all the decorations, remove the tree, and vacuum up millions of needles. And then we had to start over. This was not fun. That was the year I caved and bought an artificial tree. I still love my Christmas tree because of the many ornaments to represent the years of our lives and our children's lives. Eli carefully places each of the five "Baby's First Christmas" ornaments in a vertical pattern down the center of the front of the tree. Other significant ornaments are also placed in strategic locations. Every year, we include various ornaments the kids created in school, including a lovely glittered pine cone and yellow ceramic bell Luke made in kindergarten. Every year, Shulamith complains about how she made those exact ornaments the following year, but I just threw them away and saved Luke's. And every year I tell her it's because I like Luke better than her. Ahh the traditions, the memories, the love.

Still, I miss having a real tree. I do.

Back to the question of how soon is too soon, I've decided that once Halloween is over, anything goes. No, I won't get out decorations until the day after Thanksgiving, and I won't allow Thanksgiving itself to be dwarfed in the mad Christmas rush because I truly love Thanksgiving too. But I will get my music out, maybe even today. And I will enjoy the mall every chance I get, where the lights twinkle and the carols play and the joy abounds.

As I said at the start of this post, I am interested to know your opinions on this subject. As for me, I have three words to define the start of the most wonderful season of the year:

Bring it on!

The Best Halloween of My Whole Life!

As you can see, Seth's choice of Halloween costume reflects the non-violent, pacifist teachings of his parents. He chose to be a psycho killer. So happy was he about this costume that when Isaiah called last evening to ask Seth how his Halloween was, Seth replied, "It was the best Halloween of my whole life!" Now if you think about it, that says quite a lot. Seth is nine years old, so this was his 10th Halloween. And not only was it fun and exciting and spooky; it was the best one of his "whole life." Wow!

What made this year so special, you might be wondering. Apparently, it was a combination of things. Friday night was the carnival at Seth's school. In the past, parents had to buy tickets for their kids to participate in the various games and activities. This year was different. We paid a flat fee of $5.00, and the kids could do any activity as many times as they wanted. You may remember from an earlier post that Seth has never won a cake in the cake walk. Generally, after a few tries, we run out of tickets, so he's forced to give up. This year, with the flat $5.00 fee, Seth was determined. We would not be leaving until he had a cake. He played all the other games first, and then we headed for the cake walk. It took 14 tries, but finally, his number was called. With a tummy full of yummy chili, a bag full of candy and prizes, and yes....a cake in hand, we came home.

But the fun had only just begun. Yesterday, being Halloween itself, a whirlwind of energy was present in our home right from the start. Seth began counting down the hours until it would be dark enough for trick-or-treating. Then, in the afternoon, his favorite friend came over to play, and together, their excitement increased as the minutes dragged by. By 6:30, it was dark, and Seth was dressed and ready to unleash his psycho killer costume on the neighborhood. A warm, breezy evening made trick-or-treating amazingly pleasant. I've experienced some bitter cold Halloween nights in the past 24 years, but this one was lovely. We walked for blocks and blocks until Seth had more candy than any kid needs, and I finally convinced him it was time to go home to his dad, who was doing trick-or-treat duty at our house.

And there was still more. Some friends of ours always host a post trick-or-treating party for a few families, so we headed over there. Seth watched a movie with all the other kids, and we adults played a new game called "Things," where everyone writes down answers anonymously to prompts such as "Things you would do if you were invisible," "Things you should never do at the beach," and "Things that should have expiration dates." Then someone reads the answers, and everyone tries to guess who wrote what. Fun times.

And there you have it. The best Halloween of Seth's whole life. But the most significant part of Halloween from my personal perspective? It means the following day marks the official beginning of the holiday season. Yes, dear readers, it's here again. Ready, set. go.....

Indy

I wish this picture did justice to the incredible scenery I experienced this weekend in Bloomington, Indiana. But seriously, it does not. You can't even begin to imagine the vibrant colors of the changing leaves. I'm sure there's a biological reason for the wide variety of colors in the leaves, but I don't know it. I only know that I've never seen brighter oranges, deeper reds, or richer yellows. It was breathtaking.

Part of me wants to say that I was there at exactly the right time, but in reality, this is not quite true. I actually missed perfection by just one day. Luke informs me that it rained the entire week before we arrived in Bloomington. In fact, he had me all excited, thinking it would be raining when I got there, but no, it was clear and sunny the whole three days. Just now he called to report that it is raining again today. And my friend just mentioned, somewhat apologetically, that it even rained here, in Billings, while I was gone. But is it still raining here today? Of course not. WHAT AM I DOING WRONG??? I can't find rain no matter what I do or where I go. Even without rain, though, Bloomington was lovely; the Indiana University campus is beautiful. Shulamith and I both thought we would love to go to school there.

The other highlight of our weekend, other than visiting with Luke of course, was a concert presented by the institute choir from Luke's young single adult branch. He does not sing with this choir because he has class when they rehearse, but we were privileged to attend the concert anyway. It was outstanding. I was mesmerized for a full 40 minutes. I didn't want it to end. I know one of the choir members is finishing her doctorate in vocal performance, but that can't be true of all of them. It sounded like it, though.

And now we return to reality: essays to grade, a house to clean, Halloween to prepare for (Seth needs a costume, and I am SO not good at costumes), fat grams to count, P90X to resume. If you ever need a break, though, I highly recommend Bloomington, Indiana.

Premeditating Procrastination

A while back, Luke had an interesting Facebook status. It said, "Luke is premeditating procrastination." What exactly does that mean? That he was not procrastinating at the time but was thinking about doing so in the future? He explained it to me, and while I'm not sure I fully understand, it was something like this: He was not procrastinating at the time, but thinking about the possibility of future procrastination made it easier not do it right then. So I'm thinking this sounds like a good strategy because I really don't want to grade this stack of essays sitting here on my desk. If I start grading them, but at the same time think about the possibility of future procrastination, I might get them done? It's definitely worth a try.

So there. I graded a few, six to be exact. And now I'm totally worn out. My eyes are blurred, and my mind is blank. It really wouldn't be fair to the author of the seventh essay for me to even look at it now, right? So we've left procrastination and moved to rationalization. Hooray!

Instead, I will do what I really want to do, report on my birthday which was yesterday. It was a nice day, fairly quiet, but nice. I awoke to Seth standing over me with a card he had made. On the card, he had drawn a picture of him and me hugging. So sweet. I came to school and logged onto Facebook where I found delightful birthday greetings from all sorts of people. These Facebook wishes kept coming in throughout the day and evening. Some came from the people I see all the time: my immediate family, Lindsey, colleagues from school. Others came from friends from the distant past, whom I rarely see but with whom I share treasured memories: Corrie, Becky. Others came from people I barely know: Elizabeth B. or even from those I've never met personally: Nancy. And then there were a bunch of others from all sorts of folks, chiming in to make my day special. How fun that was!

On my way home, I received a text message from Matt, saying "Happy Birthday!" and soon after, Shulamith called with the same greeting. Later in the evening, calls from Luke, Isaiah, and my mom, along with a text conversation with Celeste, rounded out the day. The funniest part of the evening was at dinner. I met Lindsey and her three babes at McDonald's. We do this often enough that it didn't seem different from any other day, but when we were about to leave, five-year-old Emma came and sat on my lap. She does this often, but today she whispered in my ear, "My mom told me something. She said it's your birthday." When I concurred, she asked, "How old are you?"

"How old do you think I am?" I replied. Her guess: nineteen! When I neither confirmed nor denied her guess, she insisted on giving me a paper flower that she had received in her Happy Meal. She said, "This one is for people who are nineteen." I love you, Emma.

So that was my day. The real fun comes this weekend when I get to go to Indiana and play with my two oldest children. And it's getting harder and harder to wait for Friday to arrive. So Luke...thanks for the extremely effective strategy. Premeditating Procrastination. You have discovered something great indeed.

Pre-Alzheimer's?

Any of you who know me well are fully aware that I have serious age issues. I spend copious amounts of time, energy, and money trying to figure out ways to look younger. Why is this? I'm not completely sure. Perhaps part of it is that my two closest friends are 28, and I really don't hang around anyone (other than Gerald, of course) who is over 35. That can't be the only reason, though. I think it's also simply a matter of preference. I don't look forward to aging, to being part of the "older" generation. I don't think I'll make a very good "older" person. Grandparenting does not sound fun; it just sounds old. In contrast, I love thinking of myself as a young mom, and because we have Seth, I've been able to pull that off for the past nine years. Hardly anything in the world pleases me more than when someone comments that I don't look nearly old enough to have children the ages of Luke and Shulamith. This person, whoever it is, moves immediately to the top of my best friend list! I keep this list forever in my mind, with the names of all these obviously intelligent and wonderfully observant people.

So it's frightening to me when I have moments of dementia (Alzheimer's?). Like today. I went to the store to get the ingredients for taco salad. No, I don't like to shop on Sundays. Yes, I know we've been asked to prepare ourselves sufficiently, so we don't need to cause others to be unnecessarily employed on the Sabbath. Nevertheless, I struggle to be that organized and hence often find myself in Albertson's on Sunday, picking up those final ingredients for dinner. So there I was today, getting lettuce, cheese, kidney beans, hamburger, dressing. But what is the key ingredient to a delicious taco salad? Chips, of course! And did I get those? No. Gerald prepared everything, and just as we were about to eat, Seth noticed, "We don't have chips." Ack. Are you kidding? Did I really forget the primary ingredient? So off to the store Gerald went, and the rest of us are here waiting for dinner. Blah.

I may be able to cheat age on the outside, but once I start losing my mental capacities, what ever will I do? Give up? Admit to being old? Check into a rest home? Hide under the covers and never come out? I don't know.

Gerald is now back, so for the moment, I'll enjoy some yummy taco salad and a fruit smoothie. And hope tomorrow is a better day. Because I'm seriously not ready to be old.

How Do You Spell "Discouraged"?

You know how some people love to make their homes lovely, inviting, pleasant? And often, those same people also love to invite guests in, to host gatherings of all sorts, to share their homes with friends at all times, but most especially during the holiday season? You know how some people enjoy the extra effort it takes to prepare their homes for the holidays and for those social gatherings because the result is so worth all the effort?

Well, I am one of those people.

So you an only imagine how discouraging it would be to have a pipe break, causing one's basement to partially flood, leaving a section of carpet soaked and the entire downstairs area smelling totally gross. And you can imagine how much more discouraging it would be if this were to happen on October 11th, just a month before Thanksgiving and two months before Christmas, when every possible cent of extra cash is already marked to purchase airline tickets for "away" children who need to fly home for Thanksgiving and again for Christmas and to buy gifts for said children along with the two children still at home.

How do you spell "discouraged"?

Snow Day? Not.

We awoke this morning to snow, both on the ground and falling from the sky. As a child when this occurred, I remember overwhelming feelings of joy and excitement. You see, it didn't snow often in Western Oregon, and when it did, the City of Portland essentially shut down. Everything was cancelled, including and most importantly, school! Snow days were few and far between because of the lovely mild climate, but when the snow did arrive, we kids could pretty much count on a snow day.

This is not the case in Montana.

I remember so clearly five years ago our first fall/winter here in Billings. We were living in a dorm room, waiting not-so-patiently for our house in Washington to sell. The first day we had snow, Isaiah and Eli woke up overjoyed. "No school!" they exclaimed. Their delight was quickly stifled when I explained that here in Montana, kids still go to school when it snows. "What?" they replied simultaneously. They were positively astonished by the fact that they would need to go to school when there was snow on the ground.

That was long enough ago that they no longer expect snow days. Both Isaiah and Eli have learned to drive in the snow. It doesn't bother them. And Seth is neither delighted nor disappointed by snowfall. It's merely another type of weather, nothing special.

I, on the other hand, am a true Western Washingtonian. Five years has done nothing to convert me. I like snow just fine, so long as I don't have to go outside, be cold, or worry about driving on slick roads. Alas, in Montana, I have to do all those things. My first winter here, I called my mother one morning as I was driving (about 10 miles per hour) to school on slick, snow-covered roads, and the temperature in my van read -18 degrees. The following day I received an overnight package: two down-filled heavy winter coats, one in black and one in brown. Yes, I still need to be fashionable even in ridiculously cold weather. I still wear both those coats today; in fact, I wore the black one this very morning.

Am I excited to see the start of the snowy season? No. Am I trying to retain a positive attitude? Yes. Am I succeeding? Not completely. I'm attempting to look for what is good, however. Let's see...It means the holidays are getting closer when I'll have all five kids home. Okay, that's reason enough to celebrate the change in weather.

Still, the child in me yearns for the magic of the past, the ever more elusive but all the more desirable SNOW DAY.

"I Found the Golden Ticket!"

Generally, I subscribe to the adage, "When something seems too good to be true, that's probably because it is." I don't want to say I'm not lucky. I consider myself extremely lucky in so many ways, most especially in regard to my five beautiful, healthy, remarkable children. But I don't tend to be lucky in the conventional sense; I don't win things. I don't win raffles, bingo, the lottery (well, I don't actually play the lottery, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't win even if I did). My children tend to follow suit in this lack of conventional luck. Seth, for example, walks the cake-walk at every carnival, several times even, and has never yet won a cake. He tries and tries, thinking "Maybe this will be the time!" but his number is never called.

I am here today to tell you that our "luck" may be changing. Last evening, as I was doing Core Synergistics, one of the hardest of my P90X workout routines, Seth kept talking about a "Golden Ticket."

"I found the golden ticket" he exclaimed. "I win $50!" He was looking through the latest fundraising packet he got at school. I must say here how much I detest these fundraisers. They tempt kids, showing them all the amazing, expensive prizes they can win if they can only sell 5 million items. Blah! No, I'm not sending my 9-year-old out selling things door-to-door, and I'm not going to burden my friends by asking them to buy stuff they don't need or want. I will buy a few items, but not nearly enough for Seth to win anything significant.

He wouldn't let up. "I found the golden ticket! I win $50!"

I paid little attention. I was dripping in sweat, breathing hard, struggling with all my might to do walking push-ups, steam engine knee lifts, and the infamous "Superman/Banana" series. Gasping for breath, I managed to squeak out, "You did not win $50, Seth." He was crushed. He plopped down on the couch and covered his head with a pillow. Once I recovered from my workout, I tried to explain that the school is not going to just give a kid $50 before he's sold anything. He didn't believe me, but I managed to distract him from the whole subject long enough to eat dinner, and I didn't give it another thought.

Later, when Eli got home from work, Seth apparently showed him the fundraiser packet, along with the golden ticket. Eli came up to my room and said, "I think Seth actually won $50!" What? That couldn't possibly be true. Or could it? So finally (yes, I know I should have done this earlier), I actually looked at the thing myself. Sure enough. It would appear that one child out of the entire school gets a golden ticket in his fundraiser packet, and that ticket is worth $50 cash. And Seth got it. He won!

My skepticism still got the best of me, so I emailed his teacher last night. She replied this morning, confirming that Seth was the lucky child who got the only golden ticket in the entire school and would receive $50 today! He will be one happy boy.

As for me, I'm positively stunned.

Whose Bright Idea Was This?

Frequently, when I am wading through the complexities of English grammar with my students, I'm struck by the question, "Whose idea was this?" Don't misunderstand. I love this language dearly, so much so that I chose it as my major area of study in college, and I choose to teach it even today. Still, some of its grammatical components seem pretty ridiculous.

For example, yesterday, I was trying to explain to my students the correct usage of apostrophes to show possession. They generally do fine with apostrophes in contractions (and we try to avoid contractions for the most part anyway); possession is the tricky part. And why is it so tricky? Because of a handful of irregular plural nouns. Typically, how do we know where to place the apostrophe in a noun to indicate possession? It depends on whether the noun is singular or plural, right? Yes, almost always. In singular possessive nouns, the apostrophe goes inside the 's,' and in plural possessive nouns, the apostrophe goes outside:

"The girl's bike" means ONE girl.
"The girls' bikes" means more than one girl.

Simple.

EXCEPT.

There are a handful of nouns that are irregular (and I mean ridiculously irregular) in the way they form their plurals, and they happen to be some of the commonest nouns in the English language: man, woman, child, person.

One man, but two.....men. One child, but two....children. One person, but two.....people.

And this is the stupidest one of all: One woman, but two....women? Whose bright idea was this? We change the pronunciation of the first syllable, but not the spelling. And then we change the spelling of the second syllable, but not the pronunciation. How utterly insane. Can you imagine being a foreign student and trying to figure this one out?

It would be so much easier just to say "two mans, two womans, two childs, and two persons." And if I were grammar queen, that's exactly how it would be.

As for possession, because these words (men, women, children, and people) are already plural without an 's', the apostrophe goes inside the 's' when they become possessive. Sorry! I know it's confusing. My students think so too.

Then there's the issue of pronoun agreement. English, lovely language though it is, does not have a singular pronoun to replace nouns of non-specific gender. Take a sentence such as this:

If a person works hard, ________________ will do well.

How do we fill in the blank? Once upon a time, we were taught to use the pronoun "he" and to understand that it was a universal pronoun that could refer to both males and females. Not anymore. We now recognize that using "he" to refer to all people is inherently sexist because, well, "he" means a male.

So what do we do? It's a tough question, actually. Sadly, and I do mean sadly, folks over the years have begun to use the word "they" to fill in the above blank. I can't really blame them. They need to put something in there, and our language does not give us a word that works. However, "they" is positively and unequivocally incorrect. Why is it incorrect? Pronouns need to agree in number with their antecedents, meaning the nouns they replace. "Person" is singular, and "they" is plural.

One idea is to use both male and female singular pronouns "he or she" or even "he/she" (although that one always sounds a bit violent). And those work okay grammatically but can be obnoxiously annoying when used over and over: "If a person works hard, he or she will do well, and he or she will be happy with his or her life and proud of himself or herself for all his or her hard work." Okay, you get it.

My suggestion? Whenever possible, go plural. Make the antecedent plural: "If people work hard, they will do well." That way, you have a grammatically correct sentence that is also pleasant to read.

How did I get carried away with this rant? Hmmm. Not sure. I was just discussing these issues with my students, so they were on my mind. English is a lovely language, yes, but it's also challenging. So next time you're feeling unsure about a grammar issue, remember it's okay to ask...

Whose bright idea was this?

No More Whining!

Okay, this is it. No more whining over my kids being away. I was thinking I might risk losing all you lovely readers if I keep this up any longer; who wants to read a depressing, whiny blog day after day? Instead, let's try to have a good day filled gratitude for our blessings and hope for the unexpected miracles to come.

There is so much to be thankful for today....

1. Beautiful rain yesterday morning. Yes, it stopped. Yes, the sun is out again today. But, really, you should have been here. It was positively lovely yesterday morning.

2. Laughter, as Shulamith, Matt, and I sat through two incredibly awful movies: "Love Happens," which was awful enough, then "All About Steve," which was far worse. (Shulamith.... next time, Matt and I are picking the movie. Seriously.)

3. The season premier of "House," which is tonight for two whole hours! And Gerald is even home to watch it with me (which rarely happens on a weeknight). He is SO excited. Ha!

4. The season premier of "Grey's Anatomy" which is Thursday night. (Shulamith gets to watch this on her brand new flat screen TV. Am I jealous? A little.)

5. My best friend who lives right across the street, and who knew how difficult yesterday would be for me, so she texted in the evening to ask how I was. Thanks, Linds.

6. My other best friend, with whom I just finished a delightful text conversation. Twenty years ago, this would not have been possible considering she is in Texas. It would have required an expensive phone call.

7. Tickets purchased to Indiana, so Shulamith and I can visit Luke next month.

8. Eli, who with the youth choir, sang so beautifully yesterday at Stake Conference that people were fighting back tears.

9. Fun students, who did a splendid job with their very first attempt at sentence analysis. I would tell them congratulations, except I'm pretty sure none of them reads this blog. Still, they are a blessing to me!

10. Seth, who is already talking about a Halloween costume, which reminds me that the holidays are right around the corner. Hooray!

11. Dinner with a good friend tomorrow evening. We call it "dinner therapy" because that's how good it is for both of us.

12. A plethora of other blessings, far to numerous to name or to remember, but 12 is a nice number and a good stopping place.

So there. I did it. No whining at all. And I'm not even crying, at least for the moment. Cheers!

Wimp Mom

I admit it. I am a wimp mom. If you were to look up the term "wimp mom" in the dictionary, the definition would certainly read, "Terrianne Webster." But really, when you think about, it's just hard not to be wimpy when your children grow up and begin to leave home. Gerald often speculates that if our children had caused us a little more trouble while growing up, it would be easier for me to let them go. I don't know about that, but it sure isn't easy. I've thought on occasion that when you're in the hospital delivering your baby, the medical staff should warn you then. They should say something like, "Here's your baby. But don't get too attached to him." But do they do that? No. Do they stop and tell you that you will love and serve this little person for eighteen years and that in doing so, you will care so much for him that you would gladly throw yourself in front of a moving train to save him? Do they tell you that your capacity to love another human being will grow exponentially to a point you never thought possible? Do they tell you that eighteen years will pass so quickly that you will stand in utter awe? Do they tell you how empty your house will feel each time another child leaves?

No.

They don't tell you any of these things. You're left to figure it all out for yourself, year by year, child by child, tear by tear.

Last evening, as I was chatting with Isaiah on Facebook while talking to Luke on one phone and texting Shulamith on another, I was overcome with gratitude for the fact that these three kids, currently living away from home, want to keep close contact. I'm still a wimp, but I'm a lucky wimp.

And that brings me to my next point. About the only thing I can think of that is good about children moving away from home is the incredible excitement you feel when a visit is forthcoming. And that's how I feel today. What a rush! At about 2:30, when she finishes teaching, Shulamith and her friend Matt will get in the car and make the 9-hour drive home to Billings. Can I tell you I'm just a little bit excited about this??? They are willing to make the long drive this month, so I don't have to buy yet another airline ticket. I am grateful to both of them. Just about 12 hours from this very moment, they will be here! Next month, instead of me going to Utah (as I have the past five Octobers), Shulamith and I will fly to Indianapolis to visit Luke. Then, in November, all three "away" kids will come home, and the seven of us will be together for Thanksgiving. I don't mean to rush the days away, but doesn't that pretty much sound like Heaven?

Okay, so in writing this, I've just experienced a very wimpy moment, overcome with tears. That happens a lot. I guess it goes along with being a wimp mom.

New Friends

The other day, I was making brownies to go with dinner, and Seth walked in. The following conversation occurred:

Seth: Are the missionaries coming for dinner?

Me: No. Why do you ask?

Seth: Because the only time you make good food that isn't low fat is when the missionaries come over.

Me: Well, they're not coming today. These brownies are just for us.

Seth: By the way, is your book group coming over any time soon? There's always delicious food here when your book group comes over.

Me: Our turn to host book group will be in November.

Seth: November? That will take forever. Oh, I know! You need to have a baby shower.

Me: What?

Seth: Because the best food ever is when you have baby showers here.

(Note: My two closest friends had babies about a year go. Celeste's daughter Molly turned one in July, and Lindsey's daughter Hanna will be one next month. I hosted both their baby showers over a year ago. Evidently, Seth still remembers.)

Me: I'm not planning to throw any more baby showers for quite a while.

Seth: Why not?

Me: Because my friends already had their babies, and it will be a while before either of them has another one.

Seth: Then you need to get some new friends.

Lying

I've been pondering lately the subject of lying. What does it mean to tell a lie. Seth, being nine years old and right smack in the middle of what Piaget calls the Concrete Operational Stage of development, understands lying to be whenever someone tells him something will happen and then it doesn't. I've tried to explain to him that it's not really lying if the intent of the person was honest and sincere. Sometimes things just don't work out the way we think they will. For example, Seth needs new shoelaces. I told him Friday that we would get him some over the weekend. Then the weekend came and went, and we didn't get the shoelaces. We were immersed in so many things, most notably trying to get Seth moved into the bedroom upstairs and Eli moved into the bedroom downstairs, so we could restore what used to be our family room before Eli claimed it as his bedroom over three years ago. That project took much longer than I anticipated, and we're still not finished. You can't even imagine the magnitude of the mess we're dealing with. So yeah, no shoelaces.

Did I lie to Seth? He clearly thinks I did. In his perception of the world, people constantly promise him things that do not come to pass. And in his mind, that is lying. Eli promises to play a video game with him. Gerald promises to take him to the store. I promise to buy him shoelaces. Are we just a family full of liars? Obviously, I believe intent plays a role here, and clearly we don't set out to be dishonest or insincere.

However.

I, myself, am feeling very much like Seth these days as I deal with a particular car repair shop. Twelve days ago, I called this shop regarding our 1988 Mercury Sable. Yeah, I know. It's an old clunker which I made the mistake of purchasing two years ago for Isaiah to drive. It has had one problem after another ever since, most recently refusing to start. I let it sit dead in our driveway for the entire summer; I simply didn't have the energy or emotional strength to deal with it anymore, and when I'm not teaching, we can limp along with only one vehicle. Now that school has begun, though, we really need a second car. Eli needs to get to seminary in the morning, then to school, and then to work after school. I can't take him to these places when I'm clear on the West End at the College of Technology.

So twelve days ago, I called a car repair shop. They told me they would be glad to tow my car to their shop for $55 and diagnose it for another $49. Was I excited to pay $104, most likely to learn that the needed repairs far exceed the car's worth? No. Did I decide to do it anyway because we REALLY NEED additional transportation? Yes. The owner of the shop promised me they would look at the car the following morning and call me right away with the result.

That was twelve days ago. The first few days, I called them. I talked to the owner each time, and he assured me that they had been swamped all day but that the VERY NEXT DAY they would have time to look at my car. And they would absolutely call me right away. No call. Did the owner lie to me? Was his intention each time I talked to him to look at my car the very next day? I have no idea. I only know that I have basically given up. What's the point in calling if I'm going to get the same story, and nothing ever changes. I've even wondered if they have somehow lost my car and are afraid to tell me.

So Seth....I understand how you feel. I get it. And today I make a new and serious resolve to follow through with the things I tell you I'll do. Because no one likes to be lied to, even if the intentions were honorable. Let's go get those shoelaces today!

Back to School We Go!

Summer is over. Well, maybe not officially, but as far as we're concerned, once school begins, it's all over. Once again, six of the seven of us return to the academic life in one way or another. Let's take us one by one as we mark the beginning of the 2009-2010 academic year.

We'll start with the baby. He would have a fit and fall in it if he knew I wrote that, but as far as I know, he doesn't read this blog. And well, like it or not, he will always be my "baby." Seth began 4th grade last Tuesday, so just over a week ago. As I mentioned in an earlier entry, he's no longer in the primary wing, but instead he's rubbing shoulders with all those big 5th and 6th graders in the intermediate side of the building. After a week, Seth reports a good start to the year. He likes his teacher. I haven't met her yet, but she's already exchanged email with parents who provided their addresses, and she sent me a nice note saying Seth is off to a great start. His class uses a money system of reward. Students start off with $300, and they may earn money doing various things and then spend it as needed. Among other things, they must rent their desks. Seth was anxious for me to sign all his parent forms because he received $50 for each one I signed by the deadline. Am I crazy about a system that motivates children exclusively through extrinsic rewards? No. Would I prefer Seth to learn to do what he needs to do simply because it's important to meet our responsibilities, and we feel good when we do? Yes. Am I terribly worried about this? No. Seth seems happy, so I'm happy. In fact, these days, he's happier at school than he is at home. He's really missing his three siblings who are away (as am I), and the one who is home, is so involved in work, school, church, and an active social life, he is hardly ever around.

Speaking of Eli, he began his junior year in high school a week ago today. He's taking the required subjects, as well as Spanish, advanced choir, cooking, and P.E. as electives. Classes are good so far, he says. Early-morning seminary also started this week. His teacher is great, and he has a good group of friends who attend, but no matter how you slice it, 6:30 a.m. is just plain early. We're proud of him for making the effort to attend.

Isaiah, the graduate, has joined the "Let's all just move to Utah" contingency. He's a freshman at Westminster College, where Shulamith graduated a year ago. Everything we hear from him thus far is positive. He likes his roommate and the other people he's met, he likes his classes, he likes his job as a dorm monitor, and he likes Salt Lake City. Oh no, will I have a second child whom I can't get out of the state of Utah? We really may need to move there ourselves eventually. In the meantime, we're glad he's doing so well. It's a huge transition from high school to college, especially if you move away from home.

Shulamith tested children all last week and had her first day with her new kindergarten class yesterday. And it was good! You can't even know how great that was to hear. Last year, she spent her entire first day chasing one little boy out the front door because he decided to run away several times, and when she wasn't doing that, she was focused on trying to get one little girl to sit in a desk rather than jump around on the floor, pretending to be a horse. Yesterday was so much better. She says all 30 (!) kids (no I'm not kidding about that enrollment) are adorable and well behaved for the most part. Hooray! I can't wait to meet them next time I'm there.

Our psychologist to-be began his PhD program at Indiana University this week. He, too, reports a good start to the school year. He is learning so much already. I am amazed whenever I talk to him by how much he is learning, and it's all really interesting. I think Luke chose exactly the right field of study to suit his interests and abilities.

And I am back at MSU-Billings teaching five writing classes. We don't actually get students for another week, but I've been there periodically this week working on syllabi and planning. I should clarify my statement above: I'm teaching five FULL writing classes. Our enrollment is so high this semester that all my sections are full. So if you have any ideas how I might successfully navigate my way through 125 essays 6 - 8 times in the semester, I'm open to any and all suggestions. Wait. I take that back. No, Isaiah, I can't just "not give them any assignments."

So there you have it, our family's return to academia for the 2009-2010 year.

How Much is Too Much?

I love modern technology and the opportunity for communication it provides. I remember as a kid racing to the phone every time it rang, so I could be the one to answer. In those days with no Caller ID, you couldn't tell who was calling, but I didn't care. I still wanted to be the one to answer. I remember my joy when my parents first got an answering machine, and I no longer had to worry about calls I may have missed when I was away from home. Yes indeed, I love communication.

As the years passed and the world of technology increased exponentially, as a newly married couple, we were one of the first to have a computer in our home. I wasn't too impressed at first, until Gerald introduced me to the possibility of using it to communicate. Really? I could "talk" to people using my computer? Okay, I'm interested. This was before the World Wide Web or the internet as we know it today, but we were able to send messages back and forth with certain people who signed up for the same online service we did, in this case a company called GEnie. We could only use it at night or on weekends; during business hours, the folks at General Electric needed their mainframe computers for business purposes. It was a start, though, and it offered me an amazing new way to keep in touch with the people I love. I was immediately hooked.

To my delight, this was only the beginning. In the twenty years that followed, we have been blessed with countless other miracles: cell phones (I can talk to people when I'm not even home?!?), text messaging (I can send quick notes to people at any time without interrupting their daily lives?!?), the full-scale internet (I can email friends all over the world instantly, and get a response back within minutes?!?), instant messaging/live chat (I can have live conversations with people just by typing on my computer?!?), social networking sites (I can learn more about my friends and acquaintances than I ever imagined by reading their Facebook profiles and commenting on their statuses?!?), and blogging (I can write these blog essays and share my thoughts with as many of you as are interested in reading?!?).

THE WORLD IS MINE!

Seriously, this is all pretty much a dream come true for an extrovert like me. But the other night, I began to wonder, "How much is too much?"

With three of our children currently living away from home, I find myself inundated with communication in various forms. The other night, I was lying in my bed typing a "quick" email to Shulamith. My cell phone rang, and I began a conversation with my mom in Portland. Just then, Luke called on our home phone, so I quickly ended the conversation with my mom in order to talk to Luke. Right then, a text came in from Eli telling me what time he needed to be picked up from work. I quickly replied to Eli's text, all the while talking to Luke on our home phone and continuing my email to Shulamith. Next came a text from Gerald: "Isaiah's on Facebook right now. If you go on, you could chat with him." I immediately open Facebook and begin to chat with Isaiah. By now, I've said goodbye to Luke, and just as I flip back to my email to Shulamith, an email comes in from her: "Matt and I are headed out longboarding, so I'll have to write more later...as in tomorrow." Ack, even if I do get her email finished and sent, she won't even get it until tomorrow!

So how much is too much? My conclusion is there's never too much when it comes to communication with one's children. So Luke, Shulmaith, Isaiah, Eli.....if you're out there reading, keep 'em coming! Emails, phone calls, text messages, Facebook posts....it's all good. I love hearing from you. More than you can possibly know. I miss you, and I'm profoundly thankful for the miracle of modern communication, even if sometimes it's a bit overwhelming.

What Do You Think of That?

Seth is basically exhausted tonight, overwhelmed from the first week of school, lonely because no one but me is home, angry/sad/hurt over both Luke and Isaiah leaving home at exactly the same time, and pretty much on the edge of a meltdown. He just came up here whining over the fact that he can't find a DS game he wants, and Eli isn't home to help him look.

Seth: I'll NEVER find it, so I'll just be bored, bored, bored forever.

Me: Seth, you are so tired. Why don't you just go to sleep, and Eli can help you look tomorrow when he gets home from his friend's house.

Seth: You think sleep is always the answer to EVERYTHING!

Me: Well, when you are obviously so tired, yes, I think sleep is the best idea.

Seth: You just don't get it, and you never will. One time I got 16 hours of sleep and I was still very grumpy, so what do you think of that???

Change

So change is good, right? That's what they say, you know the infamous and elusive "they." Change means we are moving forward, becoming better, learning, growing, experiencing life in new and different ways. All that sounds so good as I read it on my computer screen. But the truth is, I don't do change very well. I don't particularly like it. I can get pretty comfortable with the status quo. Like it or not, though, change is a part of life, a big part, and in the past two weeks, we have experienced quite a lot of it.

For the past 14 months, we have had all four of our sons at home. Only Shulamith has been missing, and as you know, she and I manage to see each other every month, one way or another. I've had 14 months with six of us here under the same roof and visits with Shulamith every month. I have been a joyful mom.

Tonight, I find myself here at home with only Seth. "What happened?" you might ask. Change. Normal, healthy, productive change. And while I rejoice in every piece of it because it means the people I love most are doing all those amazing things I mentioned above, I'm also left feeling a bit empty. Now I realize that we have nothing even remotely close to the classic "empty nest." Eli is 16, and Seth is just nine, thank goodness! And I also realize that for many (most?) people, two children at home would feel absolutely normal. However, when you're used to five, or at least four, two feels woefully strange.

Luke and his dad drove to Indiana last week to get Luke moved in and settled there. They took their time and hit most all the historical and church sites along the way. Luke will begin a PhD program in psychology at the Univ. of Indiana next week. Reports are positive thus far. He has met the other first-year students, some of the second-year students, and most of his professors. And he's getting to know the people in his new singles branch as well. I will surely miss him here, though. I'll miss his smile and his wit, the surprise Diet Cokes he so often brings me, our Friday lunches, his computer assistance, so many many things.

Meanwhile, Eli, Seth, and I drove to Salt Lake City at the same exact time to take Isaiah (yes, Isaiah!!!) to college. We actually arrived in SLC just fifteen minutes before Luke and his dad arrived in Bloomington, Indiana. Not that it was a race; it wasn't. But I think Luke hoped to beat us. Sorry, Luke. We spent three fun days playing with Shulamith before Isaiah's orientation Saturday and Sunday. Isaiah travels light, so moving him into the dorm at Westminster took maybe fifteen minutes Saturday morning. The hard part came Sunday when we had to say goodbye. Isaiah is a quiet soul. Not many people get the privilege of knowing him. But I do. And I will miss him. I bought him a slice of cheesecake from Cheesecake Factory, hugged him tight, and cried.

You see, I have what Shulamith's friend Matt calls a "crying issue." What can I say? Change, no matter how positive, is not easy for me. Keep in mind that I've had the pleasure of Isaiah in our home for the past 18 years. That is a pretty long time, wouldn't you say? And for the life of me, I can't figure out how he could possibly be 18 already. Initial reports from him are also good. He likes his roommate and the other people he's met so far. He likes his classes which began today. He says "Everything's great!" That is all such good news. I am so happy for him. Tell me, then, why am I still crying?

Change.

Okay, here's the final straw. Today was also Seth's first day of fourth grade. Donned in awesome new clothes with his new Transformers backpack over his shoulder, he headed out on his bike with his good friend Tommy. I drove to the school and met him there, so I could deliver his supplies and put money on his lunch account. There he was, no longer in the primary wing, but on the "big kids" side of the school. For some reason, this phenomenon put me over the edge. He looked so little next to all those big fifth and sixth graders. My baby!

I cried all the way to my office.

Change. The power to change. The freedom to change. The desire to change. All this is very good. But for a wimp mom who likes everything sure and constant, it isn't always easy.

What Can You Say?

What can you say about the two most amazing friends a person could ever have?

That they are kind, funny, smart, talented, gorgeous, and the best mothers in the whole world.

That they make you laugh and laugh and laugh until you are literally crying with laughter.

That they allow you to be completely and perfectly honest with them because you know they will never judge you.

That they will always love you no matter what, and you know that as well as you know anything.

That they don't care one bit that you are 20 years older than they are.

That they promise you will never look like a grandma, even if you are one someday.

That the one in Texas loves the other two of you so much that she was willing to drive to Austin in the middle of the night to pick you up after you missed your connecting flight in Denver.

That they both cheat at Skip-Bo.

That they think it's funny that they cheat at Skip-Bo.

That they both love to eat delicious, fattening food almost as much as you do.

That their 20-something year old bodies metabolize that fattening food better than yours does, so they don't gain weight.

That they refuse to do P90X with you, so you likely gained ten pounds in the four days you were with them.

That even with one of them living in Texas, the relationship you have doesn't change. Once you're together, it's like you were never apart. It's magical.

That you've stopped trying to figure out what it is that makes this incredible friendship work the way it does, and instead you're just so very thankful that it does.

That you love them so much it brings tears to your eyes even thinking about it.

That saying goodbye is hardest because you really can't know for sure when the three of you will be together again.

That you are grateful for modern transportation, so even 1,300 miles can't separate the three of you forever.

What can you say about the two most amazing friends a person could ever have?

Only this: I love you Lindsey and Celeste.