Have you already started pooping?

I know, right? Many of you are thinking, "I could NOT have read that correctly. Terrianne would never in a million years say that word, let alone put it in a blog post, and certainly not in the TITLE!" And even now, I'm thinking, "No, I can't really post this. Right on my blog. I can't." But if you're reading it, that means I did, so we will see. Ha!

Let's be clear: I DO NOT like that word. It's awful! I don't like any of those bathroom words that begin with the letter "P." I think they are all disgusting and inappropriate, and I'm pleased to report that all five of my children became successfully bathroom independent without any of us EVER using any of those words. "Do you need to use the bathroom?" Yep, that all we needed. Whew!

But today I just really needed a laugh. Not that it's a bad day. It isn't. It's an okay day. But everyone needs a laugh occasionally, the more the better, really, because laughter is so good for us. So I was sitting here thinking I should go clean the bathrooms (yeah, for real!), when this text came from Shulamith:

"I forgot to shut blinds again. Have you already started pooping?"

WHAT???????????????????????????????????????????????????????

First, while Shulamith does not share my loathing for these terrible bathroom words (where did I go wrong?), she is kind enough not to say them to me. So I think to myself, hmmm, she must have meant this text for Mathew. And my mind begins to imagine: Matt is in the bathroom downstairs, the one that does not have a lock on the door, and Shulamith remembers that she didn't shut the blinds, and she's worried Swen will walk in (which he does all the time), leaving an undesirable view from the window?

Okay, it makes sense. Sort of.

But I don't make any assumptions. I text Shulamith back and say:

"What????? Disgusting!"

To which she replies, "LOL, that was meant for Matt [I got that part right!]. It was supposed to say 'CLIMBING.' I'm texting under blankets while trying to get Swen to nap."

So I got my much-needed laugh for the day. Hope you did too.

Dual Celebrations

Let me first be clear that I don't love dual celebrations. I like parties, so I prefer to celebrate every single event all by itself. No sharing! That said, with Isaiah's ridiculous schedule right now and his 23rd birthday falling right in the middle of it, followed by Easter five days later, a dual celebration was all we could accomplish. Isaiah is about two weeks away from finishing his undergrad computer science degree. He just spent two weeks slaving over his senior programming project and presented it to faculty Friday. Now he has just a couple papers to write and two finals, and he will be done. Woo! Since he generally works five nights a week and is in class the other two nights, we were so grateful he had last night off, even though it happened to be Easter.

The result: A dual celebration! Whether I like it or not.

Let's backtrack to the start of the weekend. Thursday afternoon, he was able to fit in lunch, so we took him to Texas Road House, where he feasted on rolls and ribs. He sat on a saddle so they would give him a free sundae, but then Shulamith's baby Swen ate it instead.

Friday morning, Eli and I began our Easter celebration by attending the Mt. Timpanogos Temple together. It was the first time I'd been back to that particular temple since Shulamith's wedding over four years ago, and the memories were joyous, especially standing outside the brides' room and remembering her and me that special day.

The rest of the day Friday Shulamith and I were busy bees and got all our Easter prep done, leaving us Saturday to relax. That is not usually the case for me. It seems like every year, I'm running around all Saturday trying to be ready for Easter. I specifically remember 1991, the year Isaiah was born. With a newborn, I had done absolutely nothing to prepare. Keep in mind that I am very much an attachment mom. I don't leave my babies, even with Gerald, when they are new. But here we were, the day before Easter, with nothing for Luke and Shulamith, who were 6 and 4, respectively. So I put one-week-old Isaiah in his daddy's arms, promised to return within 45 minutes, and ran out to get baskets and candy. Ahhh! The year 2014 was much calmer.

Saturday was lovely. Other than preparing my Gospel Essentials lesson, I had very little to do. The best, best part of Saturday was at 4:00 p.m. when Gerald got Skype set up for Eli, so he could witness the baptism of a man he taught the last six months of his mission. No one wanted to be in Tennessee more than he did that day, but thanks to the miracle of Skype, he almost was. He got to say hi to several of his missionary friends and see Brother Welch, whom he loves so much, make his baptismal covenants.

Easter Sunday itself was really fabulous. Eli sang in our ward's choir at 9:00 and then came home and ate before he headed to the YSA ward at 1:00, where he also sang in the choir. Our meetings were all good; a brand new couple in the ward attended my Gospel Essentials class...so fun! I often lament the fact that my youngest child is 13, and I miss having tiny ones. That is ever true. If I didn't love having young children, I would not have had five of them spread out 15 years, oldest to youngest, right? However, some things are decidedly easier when your youngest is 13, and one of those things is Easter morning when your church block begins at 9:00. You can simply save all the "bunny" activities for after church. Small children would not buy into this. No way.

So that's what we did. We did not get up early to hunt for eggs; instead, we slept. But once we got home, let the hunt begin!

The culmination of the Easter egg hunt is always the baskets. Here are three of my very favorite people in the whole world:

Next on the agenda was dinner. No one in our family ever likes to eat the same thing, so Gerald kindly grilled to order whatever people wanted. Isaiah and Seth ate brats, Shulamith ate a burger, Gerald and Eli ate veggie patties, and I ate marinated chicken breast. Since I did none of the cooking, everything turned out great.

Even on Easter, mealtime at our house is always casual. So Swen fits right in. From so high, it's easy for him to throw Kitty bites of food. Happy Swen. Happy Kitty!

And then it was time to celebrate Isaiah's birthday with presents and cake before he left us to go back to his studying.

Right before bed, Eli played a church video about the resurrection as we read the scriptures together. It was the perfect way to end the day, grateful for the Savior and all he did for us.

Happy birthday, Isaiah. Happy Easter to all.

Dual celebrations.

Mission Accomplished

As of today, Eli has been home from his mission three weeks, but because of an early Fast Sunday and then General Conference last weekend, he didn't report in our ward until this past Sunday. It was lovely in every way. He sang "Nearer My God To Thee" and accompanied himself on piano and then gave a heartfelt talk, bearing pure testimony of the Savior and the importance of missionary work, that others may come unto Christ and experience charity in their lives.

So many people came to welcome Eli home. I was truly overwhelmed with gratitude. Elder and Sister Smith, a senior couple he served with in his first two transfers in Blytheville, drove up from southern Utah to be here. Sister Smith and I are forever bonded, as she is the one who had the unfortunate task of calling me from the emergency room when Eli was bit by a Brown Recluse Spider! After Eli's first three months in the field, he was always the senior companion, so most of his closest buddies are still serving; however, one former ALRM missionary showed up unexpectedly, and I know how pleased Eli was to see him. Several of my friends came, including eight of my fellow ALRM moms: the moms of Elders Bluth, Draper, Randall, Armstrong, Petty, Bennett, Ludwig, and Oveson.

We had brunch at our home following Sacrament Meeting, thanks to Mathew's mom, Dawn, whom you can see slaving away in the background of this photo. Along with Matt, she literally stood there well over an hour making delicious crepes, one after the other, for all our guests. Shulamith and I made a breakfast casserole to go with the crepes, and then we had Costco cake for dessert. I think we had around 30 people here; it was a wonderful party.

Eli has had three weeks to re-enter civilian life. That is always an adjustment. Missionary life is like no other. The structure is relentless and constant, and there is almost zero down time from 6:30 a.m. to 10:30 p.m. six days a week. Yes, P-day provides a slight change in routine, but it's equally busy considering missionaries must do all their grocery shopping, housework, laundry, emailing, letter writing, along with tending to any individual needs they might have, all on that one day.

It's different at home.

So different.

Every morning Eli asks me, "What are you doing today, Mom?" And more often than not, I have absolutely no idea. While my life is full and busy just like everyone else's, I don't have a missionary planner to guide me through every hour. Eli has had all the obvious post-mission appointments: dentist, eye doctor, TB test. He is catching up on his favorite TV shows and has taken Seth to see a movie each Friday night since he got home. He is staying up later in the evening and sleeping later in the morning. He is reconnecting with friends on Facebook. He has found a Young Single Adult ward (much to our Bishop's disappointment) and is already a home teacher and involved in all sorts of activities. Transition.

And today, he began work. My kids are fortunate in that they never have to actually apply for jobs. Shulamith started working at Macaroni Grill nearly nine years ago when she was a sophomore in college, and as a result, they seem to be willing to hire any of my kids without so much as an interview. Eli worked there as a host, briefly, before his mission, and Isaiah has worked there for the past three years, initially as a host and now as a server. Today, Eli began server training. He was a little nervous (actually, he was a lot nervous), but both Shulamith and Isaiah were there with him, and reports are he did awesome.

So with "mission accomplished," he makes his way back to real life. With increased maturity, increased testimony, and increased love for his fellow human beings, he steps forward. So much is yet ahead. So many of life's richest blessings still await him. And yes, some trials for sure. But nothing he could have done these past two years could prepare him any better. And nothing could have made these two parents any prouder.

Someone actually wants MY recipe?

We have already established I am a terrible cook. Don't believe me? Just ask Seth.

Mom (pleadingly): Seth, why won't you eat anything I cook?

Seth: Because you're a terrible cook.

Or Eli.

First letter from the MTC two years ago: "All the other missionaries are complaining about the food here and saying how much they miss their moms' cooking. But honestly, this is the best food I've eaten in my entire life!"

Convinced? Good.

So it's always shocking when people ask me for a recipe. I mean why would anyone want to cook the same crappy food that we eat here?

Occasionally, though, there is an exception, and this is one of those times. A year or so ago, Shulamith and I were visiting my mom in Portland, and she made us this yummy breakfast, a casserole thing with eggs, cheese, sausage, and tater tots all mixed together. It was delightful. She told us how "easy" it is to prepare, to which I replied, "I've heard that before. Cooking is never easy. Never!" Still, she wrote down the recipe, and it didn't look terribly difficult, so we tried it.

And it actually worked. Crazy!

So this breakfast casserole has become a staple at our house for all holidays and other special occasions. And we made it yesterday for Eli's homecoming brunch. Several people asked for the recipe, way too many for me to remember, so I decided it would be much easier to just post it here for anyone who wants it. Here goes:

12 eggs (beaten slightly)
2 C. cheddar cheese (grated)
2 C. swiss cheese (grated)
1 package frozen tater tots
1/4 C. milk
1 package frozen, fully cooked sausage links (sliced)
salt and pepper

Grease 9 X 13 glass baking dish. Dump in frozen tater tots. In a large bowl, mix eggs, milk, cheddar cheese, sausage, and salt and pepper. Pour over tater tots. Top with swiss cheese. Refrigerate overnight. Bake at 350 degrees for an hour. (Ours took a bit longer than an hour to get done.)

There ya go, my friends. Enjoy!

The Rest of the Story

As a very little girl, I remember my dad listening to Paul Harvey, a radio talk show host. I have no idea what the man talked about. None, whatsoever. I just remember riding in my dad's smoke-filled truck, country music playing in the background, until it stopped and Paul Harvey took over. And at the end of his remarks, he always said, "And now you know the rest of the story."

So the other day, Shulamith and I were in the car and I was lamenting about the tornado that is currently my house and how I will need to get it all cleaned by Sunday, but not too soon before Sunday because I wouldn't want to give my family opportunity to destroy it again. As I've mentioned before, I am the only person in my family who values a clean house. Well, Shulamith does, but she has her own house downstairs to keep up, so she can't worry too much about mine.

In the midst of my complaining, she said something like, "You just wrote a blog post about how much you love having nearly all your kids living with you; you really should tell everyone the truth, or least the rest of the story." Indeed, I'd never want to be accused of writing a typical Mormon Mommy Blog, filled with only sunshine, roses, and laughter, but ignoring the other realities of life. I want to be straight up with y'all, so here you have it: The rest of the story.

First, let me say that every word of that former post is 100% true. I do love having everyone here. Love it! I would be thrilled if all of them would stay forever. Really. But at the same time, going from six people living in this house to eight, does change the dynamics. First, we only have three bedrooms upstairs. One is ours. One is Seth's. And one is the piano/computer room, which we prepared for Eli before he came home. But as I explained in the earlier post, Isaiah is here with us too, working on his senior programming project. Where would we put him? I decided that he would need privacy to work, so with every parental manipulative bone in my body, I approached Seth. "Seth, I need you to be very mature with what I'm about to tell you. [Side note: Seth just loves to think he's mature.] I need you to give up your room for the next two weeks, so Isaiah will have a quiet place to work."

Success! He bought it hook, line, and sinker and graciously agreed to move to the living room couch, and there he has slept for the past 13 nights. Of course, along with him came many of his things: blankets, pillows, clothing, video games, headphones, backpack, homework, even his laundry basket, all sprawled across my living room. Picture it. No wait, don't.

But one thing he can't bring down to the living room is the piano. It's still up in Eli's room. Now you should know something about Eli. I won't exactly use the word "hoarder," but let's just say that Eli is sentimental. Practically everything has sentimental value:

Mom: What are all those empty pill bottles?

Eli: Souvenirs! These two are from my Brown Recluse Spider bite, and these other two are from my stomach abscess.

I love this about him; I love everything about him! But just imagine a smallish bedroom with a queen bed, piano, and computer desk. Add to that two packages he sent home earlier with a Memphis family that was visiting Utah. Add to that the contents of two large, extended suitcases and another carry-on. Add to that a 45-lb box he shipped here before he left the mission. And there you have Eli's room. He has so much stuff! Seth needs to enter that room daily in order to practice the piano, which brings us to last evening's conversation:

Seth: Eli, your crap is all over my piano. How am I supposed to practice?

Eli: It's not your piano.

Seth: Yes it is.

Eli: No it isn't. It's Isaiah's piano. Grandma bought it for him.

Isaiah (from the family room): It's not my piano. Grandma bought the piano for herself, but then gave it to Mom so her kids could take lessons. It's Mom's piano.

Seth: And I'm the only kid left taking lessons, so that means it's mine.

Bahahahaha! How I've missed the brotherly bickering. The three of them honestly love each other so much. It makes my heart glad. Seth just today remarked, "I'd sleep on the couch forever if it meant Isaiah would stay." Ahhh. I wish that too, even in the midst of the tornado that is my house. Keep in mind that in addition to the five of us sharing limited space upstairs, there's also this calculating toddler who lives downstairs but comes upstairs often. He is so incredibly skilled at tearing apart a house. I don't think I've ever seen anyone do it so fast or so thoroughly, and I have five kids of my own, so that's saying something. I am beyond impressed.

Rest assured, fellow Utahns who will be here with us Sunday to celebrate Eli, along with those of you who are coming from out of town, this house will be clean by then. I promise. It will be clean and shiny and sparkling top to bottom. We can't wait to see you. And just as a tease of what's to come... this very second I hear Eli playing the piano and singing a beautiful hymn, practicing for Sunday; yep, he will be providing the intermediate music. Yay!

And now you know the rest of the story.

"I just want you to know that I hated this class."

Today was the last day of my spring semester. I know, I know; it's barely spring. We forgo spring break at my school in favor of finishing really early, and it's about the best idea in the history of ever. I am so done. Ahhhhh!

On this final day, there was not much to do. Students needed to turn in their last essays. I asked them to check their grades online to make sure everything looked correct; it's much easier to clear up issues face to face than later through email. As one would expect, most students were eager to get out of there. The sun was shining. The atmosphere was filled with the relief that only the last day of the semester can bring. "School's Out for Summer." (Please tell me someone reading this is old enough to remember Alice Cooper and that song.)

I left the room, myself, for a bit. I went to the bathroom and then downstairs to the bookstore to get a snack. When I returned, these four were still sitting there.

"Do you need me?" I queried.

"No. We just can't leave," one girl replied. "It's too hard to say goodbye." They went on to explain that they had spent so many hours sitting right there at those computers, agonizing over their essays, that now they couldn't bring themselves to leave. So they didn't. They stayed another half hour. They each wanted a picture with me, so they took turns taking them on their phones. Nope, you don't get to see those. This was not just a "bad hair day"; it was a "non hair day," as in I got up, sprayed on some dry shampoo, fluffed my hair, and left. Really bad. No, it never once occurred to me that students would want to take pictures. Blah.

As we finished our photo session and they prepared to leave, the boy in the blue shirt said, "I just want you to know that I hated this class. I hated it because it was so hard, and I had to work so much. But I also loved it. I loved it because I learned so much. I am so grateful."

Score!

You see, I have a bit of a reputation at my school. Every student has to take English 101, regardless of his or her major, so the grapevine of discussion among students often includes talk of which ENG 101 instructor to take. A former student once told me how he contributes to such discussions: "If you want an English class where you can just slide by like you always have, not work too hard, but still pass, you probably don't want to take Sister Webster. But if you want to learn, if you want your writing to actually be better at the end of the semester than it was at the start, then she might be the one for you." Ha!

The problem is not enough students fall into that second category. Most consider school, especially their General Education classes, just a series of hoops to jump through. Yeah, they might be willing to work a bit in classes related directly to their major, but Gen Ed requirements, no way! And especially not English. Are you kidding? English is supposed to be easy. Math? Now that might require some effort. They might need to listen to the teacher in order to learn how to do the math problems. But writing? No. They have been writing since they were young children. They already know how to do that just fine.

Except they don't. At least not usually. Writing, good writing, requires work. Hard work. Lots of it. So I am thankful to those students, though they may be a minority, who are willing to put forth the effort to improve. I love to see their growth. I love to see their pride (the good kind of pride!) that accompanies a sense of accomplishment. It makes me happy.

"I want you to know that I really hated this class."

 I don't think I've ever felt more complimented.

Four of five kids at home; lovin' every second of it!

Our kids, other than the oldest and youngest, are at that point where they sort of come and go. They go to college. They come home. They go on missions. They come home. They move out. They move back. They get married. They come back with their spouses. It's perfect! In the midst of all this, I find myself thankful for two things: First and foremost, that Seth is not one of these transient people, but rather he is right here under our roof, full time, for at least the next 4-1/2 years. Thank heavens! And second, that for a number of random reasons, four of our five kids are living here right now. I cannot begin to tell you how wonderful that is. I think they should probably just stay forever. Because I love my life so much more when they are here.

As most of you know, Eli returned from his mission just over a week ago. We are all taking every opportunity to love on him just as much as possible. Goodness we missed him. And now, we can't get enough of him. We missed his sweet personality, his positive attitude, his adorable sense of humor, his infectious smile. We are so delighted he opted not to return to school until fall. I don't think we could be ready to part with him any sooner.

Now I knew Eli he would be here, and of course I knew Shulamith would be downstairs, but I did not know we would be blessed to have Isaiah with us too. Woo hoo! I know it's only temporary, but for the time being, he is here, right here, working on his senior programming project. It's due April 11th, and he still has much to do, the result of a bit of procrastination on his part as well as his stupid job scheduling him to work practically every waking hour that he's not in class. So a few days ago, he realized he needed to focus full time in order to get this done, and the best place to do that is here and not his apartment near campus. So he scheduled himself off work for two weeks, moved in with us, and is working diligently (well, mostly) on this project. Today he went to the graduation fair at Westminster and brought home his cap and gown. What a thrill it will be to see him graduate May 31st!

Part of why I enjoy having them all here is watching them interact. I love how much they care for each other, what good friends they are, what good friends we all are. It wasn't always like that. They were little kids once, perfectly normal little kids. And they fought like little kids, oh, how they fought. I remember Luke and Shulamith showing me the teethmarks from where they bit each other, but bad as that sounds, I think Isaiah had it the worst. He and Eli are just 23 months apart in age and different as night and day. To look at them, you would never peg them as brothers. They look nothing alike, and their personalities are polar opposites as well, both wonderful, just different.

Isaiah was the easiest child to raise--calm, quiet, undemanding. He liked order. With the utmost precision, he would line up all his cars from largest to smallest, in a straight line from one side of room to the other. This would take him hours, only to have the whole thing demolished in a matter of seconds by "the wrath of Eli." There was nothing calm or quiet or undemanding about Eli; he made his presence known always. And as much as we delighted in Isaiah's methodical brain, we rejoiced in Eli's passion. Isaiah was not nearly so impressed. In a moment of sheer desperation, he asked: "Mommy, can we just get rid of him. Sell him in a garage sale? Put him on a table, so somebody will come take him away?"

Now they are the best of friends. Their opposite personalities somehow complement each other. Or maybe it's just that they share so many memories. Or maybe it's just a matter of love.

An hour ago all four of them were right here in our small family room. Shulamith and Eli were watching "The Voice."  Isaiah was working on his project. Seth was bothering Isaiah with gaming questions. I was reminding Seth not to distract Isaiah from his work. It was so great! Now, they are all gone. Shulamith is downstairs with Matt and Swen. Isaiah is at his night class. Seth is at Scouts. Eli is at a Young Single Adult missionary night, where they pair up with a "companion" and go out visiting less active members. Eli felt he would be really good at this.  :-)

I am here alone. It's very quiet. Quiet can be okay sometimes. For a little while. But I'll be glad when the boys are all home again.

Four out of five kids at home; lovin' every second of it.