We didn't do everything, but we did many things

We have a lot of kids and a lot of Christmas traditions that have evolved through the years. I love Christmas more than anything, and it comes only once a year, and I'd  like to be able to do everything, so I dream big.

And there is nothing wrong with dreaming big in attempt to make Christmas everything I want it to be for myself and my family. But there is only so much time. I listened to a talk by President Monson, who counseled us to slow down and to focus on what is most important, so the season doesn't become a mad rush of shopping, wrapping, decorating, and baking, resulting in major stress and leaving no room for the peace that Christmas is.

So this year, I didn't do everything. A few wonderful things got left out, simply because I didn't have time and chose not to rush to the point of frenzy.

 I did not

• Make shortbread for my adult Sunday School class. I really wanted to do this because I love these people so much. They are a group of 10-12 faithful, dedicated souls, who come every week to my Gospel Essentials class, even though they don't have to. We have no actual investigators (for whom the class is intended), and these people show up anyway to discuss the gospel with me week after week. They are wonderful! I will still bring them shortbread; it will just be sometime after the New Year.

•  Frost cookies Christmas Eve to leave out for Santa. This is a die hard tradition with my kids, but with Seth working until 7:30 Christmas Eve, we just never got to it. Next year!

• Watch "A Charlie Brown Christmas" with Seth. What? How could we miss this one? Well, his work schedule was grueling this December, and though we talked about it lots and even made several plans, it just didn't happen. You can be sure this will be a priority next year since it's possible Seth could spend Christmas of 2018 in the mission field (yikes!).

I think those are the main things I missed this year. Rest assured, it was a glorious Christmas anyway. I observed many of our long-standing traditions and added a couple new ones.

I did

• Orchestrate matching Christmas jammies for all the girls. For years, this tradition involved only Shulamith and me, but it gets more fun as we add more girls. Gerald told us we looked like we were wearing prison garb. Well great.

• Visit Temple Square to see the beautiful lights, only this year, I had the added joy of watching Seth sing with his concert choir in the Assembly Hall. Love!

• Attend church Christmas morning, which is only a tradition in those years when Christmas falls on Sunday, but it's always a special treat when it does. This year Gerald and I got to narrate the musical program, something I've done many times in other wards, but never in the five years we've lived here. It was super fun!

•  Make our favorite egg casserole for breakfast Christmas morning. But this year we added Waffle Love dough, which we made into delicious waffles that tasted exactly like the ones they serve at Waffle Love, topped with fresh whipped cream, biscoff, and bananas. Yum!

• Pass out gifts one at a time, youngest to oldest in order of age, which makes the whole gift-opening process last several hours. Not everyone loves this as much as we do, and you can read about that here, but we Erichsen-Websters wouldn't have it any other way. It's so much fun to see everyone open his or her gifts, to see what everyone got, and to celebrate the surprise, one gift at a time. I think the best surprises this year were Matt's Dr. Martin boots and Isaiah's Jazz tickets. Score!

• Dream of a white Christmas and then awake to its reality. I'm a terrible photographer, but I opened my front door Christmas morning, and a Christmas miracle occurred as I somehow took this lovely photo. I think it belongs on a Christmas card; really, I do.

• Eat copious amounts of fattening food and not even worry about it, as we play games and laugh and celebrate. We taught Amanda how to play Cribbage, a tradition that reaches back to my childhood, as my dad stood over me and taught me how discard properly (always, always hold for the double run!). Memories. 

• Wish all of you, friends and family both near and far, a Merry Christmas. May we hold onto our faith as we head into 2017, despite a most incredulous and disappointing election outcome and the fear it brings. May we hold together and stay strong through the storm.

Why Matt hates our Christmases

The blending of two families as a new one is created can be tricky. Oftentimes, our traditions are so firmly established, layered year upon year, that we can't imagine shifting even a little from the way we do things. And at no time are traditions more meaningful or well established than at Christmas.When Gerald and I got married, I know he was taken aback by the intensity with which my family celebrates holidays, especially Christmas. Over time, I think he got used to it. I don't know how much he likes it, but he doesn't object.

Six years ago an unsuspecting young man named Mathew came into our lives. I've joked that it's a very good thing he had already proposed to Shulamith before he experienced his first Erichsen-Webster Christmas, or the marriage may never have happened. You see, as with most relationships, Matt and I have some things in common and other things, not. The most significant thing we have in common is that we're both head-over-heels in love with Shulamith.

Where we part ways most significantly is on the subject of Christmas. I don't know anyone who likes Christmas more than I do, and I don't know anyone who likes it less than Matt. One time a couple years ago, for a Halloween gift, I gave Shulamith some pretty tree ornaments. Knowing this would not be a good gift for Matt, I also included for him some of his favorite candy. I wrapped the gift together, though, and when Matt started to open it, the first thing he saw were the ornaments. He was livid. Really. I don't know if I've ever seen him angrier.

So all this serves as an introduction to a recent discussion between Matt and Shulamith, which demonstrates the experience of hangin' with the Erichsen-Websters on Christmas.

Shulamith: "So first we'll go to church, and then...."

Matt:  "Wait...what? We have to go to church? On Christmas?"

Shulamith: "Well, yes. It's Sunday, so yes."

Matt: "So first we'll get all dressed up and go to church for an hour. Then we'll all come back home, and your mom will make all you girls go change back into your "matching Christmas jammies," which will take another half hour. And  then your dad can take a bunch of pictures until you find one you like. Then everyone will be hungry, so we'll spend another half hour eating.

And finally, it will be time to begin the gift opening marathon. Your mom will pass out gifts, one at a time, to all 9,000,000 people in your family, and one at a time, each person will open his one gift while everyone else watches (ooooh and ahhhh!). After one round of this, your mom will say, "I think we should take a break and go have hot chocolate," and we'll all go back up the stairs to the kitchen.

Then right after hot chocolate is done, we'll do a few more rounds of slowly opening presents, one at a time, and someone will say "I'm hungry," so everyone will stop again to go upstairs and eat while there are still presents to open. Why would you want to do anything else when there are still presents to open? Why would you want to sit and watch everyone else, when you have your own presents under the tree waiting for you? It's just not how it's supposed to be. And this will drag on for the next four or five hours."



All I can say about this whole scenario, Matt, is yes! Yes, yes, yes, YES! That is exactly how it will happen. Isn't it glorious? Just three days from now! I cannot even wait. The most perfect Christmas ever! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Christmas, 2016: Three Questions

With just one week left before Christmas, I wanted to share our annual Christmas letter. This year, I asked everyone the same three questions, and recorded his or her responses word for word. Enjoy!

 2016: Three Questions

1. What is your favorite memory of 2016?

2. What is your favorite TV show or recent Netflix binge?

3. What is your favorite past Christmas memory?

Erichsen-Websters

Seth
1. Today! I saved up $1,000 to buy a new gaming laptop, and it FINALLY arrived.
2. Breaking Bad
3. Late Christmas night 2013, after I had already gone to bed, my dad called me to say he was locked out of the house and asked me to come let him in. When I opened the door, he walked in with my WiiU. It was the best surprise ever!

Isaiah
1. Berlin. (Of all Isaiah's amazing travel destinations for his job, Germany was his favorite. Just ask Mom how jealous she is).
2. NBA Basketball.
3. Senior year in college, when I was poor, and you got me a laptop and a smart phone in the same Christmas.

Terrianne
1. Sitting next to Eli in the temple, and then watching as he was sealed to his bride for time and all eternity.
2. The Good Wife, except I am so furious that Will died, I may not watch the rest of the series. Seriously, I am so mad. If Fitz and Liv (Scandal) ever come back on, and Suits comes back, I won't even need Good Wife anymore. That will teach them to kill off my favorite character.
3. Waking up on Christmas morning, when Luke was three weeks old. Holding him in my arms, as I sat under the lights of our tree while Gerald cooked us breakfast. The little baby who made me a mother, the role that transformed my life and shaped my destiny.

Gerald
1. Spoken like a true introvert: Wandering the sandstone hills of Utah's Snow Canyon State Park at sunrise.
2. I've been unable to find a Netflix series that's as good as those I've already seen. My favorite current show is This Is Us.
3. Watching children show their excitement when opening Christmas presents – specifically, Seth surprised at getting his WiiU when he thought he had no more presents, and Shulamith with almost any article of clothing.

Monson-Websters

Shulamith
1. I have had a really rough year. It's hard to think of a favorite moment because it all sort of sucked. Can I choose a future 2016 moment? Yes, I think I can. I think Christmas day this year will be perfect and wonderful. Swen is 4, and Kennedy is 2, so they are the PERFECT ages for Christmas, and I can hardly wait.
2. Watching TV is my favorite thing to do at night when the kids are asleep. I can't pick just one. I loved watching Suits, The Good Wife, How I Met Your Mother, and of course my reality series Survivor and Big Brother!
3. In 2009, Matt drove up to Montana with me for Christmas, and he surprised me by proposing! I was completely surprised and thrilled. My other favorite Christmas memory was when I was eight, and my grandma surprised me with my own TV for my room. It was the best Christmas ever because I had been wanting my own TV forever. But then, on that same Christmas, in all of our stockings were notes telling us to pack our clothes because we were heading to Disneyland the next day! What?! It will always be the Christmas that stands out to me because there's nothing better than a TV and Disneyland in the same year.

Mathew
1. That one time I found that song that made me feel really good and tingly.
2. I have enjoyed binge watching my emotions bloom into a beautiful bouquet of contrasting colors and intensities.
2. When I had that crippling condition that had me tied to a crutch, and we all thought that things were just getting worse. When suddenly it seemed as though the entire world had a change of heart and my health completely rebounded. Then the culminating moment of it all when I jumped into the arms of that strange man and he lifted me up and I yelled, "God bless us, God bless us everyone!"
That was my favorite Christmas moment.

Swen
1. When we got our new dog, Woof!
2. Car washes (you-tube videos)
3. Getting new Christmas pajamas.

Kennedy
1. Being a princess for Halloween.
2. Blaze and the Monster Machines.
3. (It's hard to have a favorite Christmas memory when you've only been alive for two Christmases and you don't remember either of them, but Kennedy is super excited to make some Christmas memories this year).

Erichsen-Valentines

Luke
1. Having our new house all set up!
2. Mr. Robot
3. Opening presents by the Christmas tree

Desiree
1. Watching Evelyn dance in her dance recital
2. Seinfeld
3. Having my family together for a cozy and fun day

Evelyn
1. Playing with Pebbles!
2. Project MC2
3. Running downstairs to see what Santa left

The Newlyweds

Eli
1. April 8, 2016. Being sealed to my beautiful wife Amanda for time and all eternity! :)
2. Amanda and I have been into cooking competition reality shows lately! Food Network FTW. Netflix though, Breaking Bad, How I Met Your Mother, The Office are always good if you haven't seen those. Law and Order: SVU is one of the best shows out there. Watch it. Almost as good as Survivor! One of these days, this Christmas letter will talk about how I was on Survivor! One day...
3. Last year the week of Christmas, I proposed to Amanda! Also, way back in the day, I got a pet turtle for Christmas! It was my favorite animal at the time, and I was jaw-dropping surprised! RIP Speedy.

Amanda
1. Eli
2. Watching Eli sleep
3. Eli

And there you have it!

May we settle in this week, as day by day, inch by inch, we draw closer to the manger. As we feel the Savior's love, may we love each other better. As we feel his grace, may we be more gracious. As we experience the joy of his birth, may we bring joy to those around us. As we come to understand his perfect peace, may we live in peace, one with another.

From the Erichsen-Websters, merry merry Christmas!

"Bye, Seth's Family!"

Seth had to work tonight. December is the busiest month of the year at Macaroni Grill, and they try to give him Sundays off but can't always. Shulamith and I stopped by to visit him, and as we were leaving, several employees shouted after us, "Bye, Seth's family!"

"Seth's family." Because now Seth is the Mac Grill employee, and we are his family.

As we got in the car, it occurred to both of us that when Shulamith first started working at Mac Grill, Seth was only four years old. She was 18 and a freshman at Westminster College. I wanted her to get a job on campus, but she decided to drive all the way across town to host at some Italian restaurant. I was sure she'd wind up in a ditch somewhere, after sliding off the snowy road late at night while driving back to her dorm, and I'd be in Montana unable to do a single thing to help her. Oh the nightmares of an anxiety mom!

In some ways that all seems so long ago. In 12 years, the "Mac Shack" has played a significant role in four of my kids' lives, and mine. I've been there dozens of times to hang with one kid or another as they hosted, bussed tables, ran food, or served guests. In all those years, there was only one, brief, three-month period when I didn't have a kid working there. Eli worked both pre and post mission, and Isaiah worked there all through college. They still go back and help out occasionally, during the busy times.

But in reality, it's now all Seth. He is everyone's favorite: favorite busser, favorite food runner, favorite host. "Bye, Seth's family!"

The first time I walked into Macaroni Grill was 12 years ago, when I was here to spend the weekend with Shulamith, and she had to work. I sat by myself in the corner; I still remember which table even. She was brand new, so she couldn't come hang out and talk with me. I just watched her work, so proud. I love to watch my kids do anything, even seat guests in a restaurant. It's the same pride I felt this evening as I watched Seth set up tables for parties, seat guests, and train new support staff.

As we left and began to think about our family's history there, both Shulamith and I decided time goes by way too fast. "Mom, he was only four years old when I started working here. That's just crazy."

Yep, crazy. Now he's a legacy, the final Erichsen-Webster kid to work at Mac Grill.

"Bye, Seth's family."

"Now you're actually allowed to listen to Christmas music"

...declared Seth the other day. He refers to the fact that I have been listening to Christmas music since a couple days before Halloween. And I won't apologize. Some of the most beautiful music ever written is Christmas music; why should I only get to hear it for three weeks in December? That's simply not long enough. I exercised tremendous discipline to wait until just before Halloween, and I should be congratulated.

Hardly anyone loves Christmas more than I do. Although I start the music early, I never feel like the actual season begins until after the First Presidency Christmas Devotional, always the first Sunday in December. I still wish it were the way it used to be, with literally the First Presidency and only the First Presidency speaking, but I still love it and thoroughly enjoyed watching last evening.

So let the season begin! 

How are my projects coming along, you want to know? (Maybe you don't, but humor me):

• Christmas cards printed.
• Christmas letter written and printed, to be copied tomorrow, so cards can be mailed out.
• Shopping maybe 3/4 done? Something like that. Oooh, how I love shopping!
• Wrapping 100% caught up. Now I just need more presents to wrap.
• New 9 ft. tree set up and beautifully trimmed. 
• House decorated
• Baking day set, and recipe selection underway.
• #LIGHTtheWORLD daily Christmas focus - Seth and I are on track with Day 5 today (we are both organ donors). 
• Semester finished? Not quite. And speaking of school....

When I was in college, if students needed to ask their teacher a question, they pretty much had one choice: wait until the next class and come a bit early or stay after. Amazing, huh? We all still managed to get educated. We progressed in our studies, learned stuff, earned our degrees, went out into the world to use them, all without the benefit of 24/7 access to our teachers.

Because of this, we also felt compelled to make the very most out of that precious class time, taking copious amounts of notes. Yes, it's true. We came to class with paper and pens and actually wrote stuff down. We listened to the teacher and tried to comprehend what he said. We tried to sculpt out the most important ideas and then commit them to our notes. College classes were, indeed, active learning experiences.

This all must sound like science fiction to today's college students. Most don't ever write down anything, because they expect all course content to appear in the management system, which they can access online. And if they have questions, they can just email me, and if I don't reply within two hours, they can email me again asking if I received their first email.

Okay, that was sort of a long rant. Sorry. I have lovely students, really, and I enjoy them most of the time, but there was a moment today when I told them I felt like the teacher in the Charlie Brown cartoons: "Wa, wawawa.....wawawa." They just laughed at me and took pictures with their phones of a couple things I had on the board, which is the closest they come to taking notes.

Enjoy this glorious season, everyone. This year, we even get to attend church. I love, love, love it when Christmas falls on Sunday. And this time, Gerald and I get to narrate the musical program that morning. How excited am I? Very!

Meanwhile, go listen to some Christmas music. Seth says you're allowed to now.

Thanksgiving 2016: Funky and fragmented, but focused on gratitude anyway

It wasn't exactly as we'd hoped. Ideally, all of us who live nearby would be together to celebrate Thanksgiving. Instead, the holiday was a bit fragmented. But instead of whining, let's focus on the gratitude, because if you're willing to look hard enough, the blessings are always there.

1. Seth had to work at Macaroni Grill on Thanksgiving Day. Even so, we are grateful he has such a good job, one that allowed him to take a full three weeks off in order to perform in his high school's musical.

2. Eli's wife, Amanda, had to remain on the property at The Ridge apartments in Rexburg, where she works as a manager. Even so, we are grateful she has this job, which provides free housing and several other perks while Eli finishes his degree.

3. Isaiah had to work Friday and then fly out early Saturday morning for an event in Las Vegas. Even so, we are grateful he got to be home with us Thursday and that he gets to travel to so many amazing places in his job.

4. Gerald had to work Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Even so, we are grateful he has a job to support our family and provide good insurance.

So how did we handle Thanksgiving?

In shifts.

Thursday morning, we made a big family breakfast for those who were home: Isaiah, Seth, Monson-Websters, Gerald, and me. That afternoon, Gerald, Isaiah, and I had Italian dinner at Macaroni Grill, so we could be with Seth, even though he was working. My mamma heart could not send my baby off to Macaroni Grill and then come home and eat Thanksgiving dinner without him.

Nor could it leave Eli and Amanda in Rexburg all by themselves all weekend. So Friday morning, Shulamith and I drove to Rexburg, and Saturday, we cooked a traditional Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings. It was just the four of us, plus Shulamith's kids, and it was super yummy.

I am the only one who got to participate in every one of the "sections" of our fragmented Thanksgiving celebration, so I am personally grateful.

And I'm even more grateful that In less than a month, all the people mentioned in this post will be home for Christmas; schedules are working out a bit better this time. It should be epic!

The gifts and the givers

Twenty-five years ago, we lived for 18 months in northern California, about an hour north of San Francisco. It was such a small snippet of life; I left not much of myself there and took little away. It's the relationships I remember most, in particular, my closest friend while we lived there, a girl named Corrie. She was funny and opinionated and beautiful, and most likely still is. I have the fondest memories of our time together.

We celebrated only one Christmas as Californians, but I still have the gift Corrie gave me that year, this lovely nativity scene:

I put it up every year and think of her. My favorite is the little sheep that lies up in the loft of the stable. Because this was a gift, it means more to me than if I'd bought it myself, and even with so many children and so many years, I have kept each piece safe all this time.

Nativity scenes make perfect gifts, don't you think? We see the wise men bearing gifts to the baby Jesus. We feel grateful for His infinite gift of hope and eternal life, and we express that gratitude in part by sharing our gifts, whether material or spiritual, one with another.

My only other nativity scene was also a gift, one that came in sections, from numerous people. Twelve years ago we had just relocated to Billings, Montana. We had left friends and family and a life we loved in Washington to start anew all by ourselves in an unfamiliar place. Our first Christmas there, my mom sent me this Willow Tree nativity, but just Mary, Joseph, the baby, an angel, and a shepherd:

.
I loved it so much. I set it up so carefully year after year, and always I thought to myself, "One day I will get the other pieces to round out this beautiful set.

That "one day" came last year, when Eli's (then) fiance, Amanda, gave me these delightful animals:

Then, right after that, Luke's wife, Desiree, sent me these wise men:

And now I have this stunning nativity to grace my coffee table at Christmastime:

What beautiful gifts!
What beautiful givers!

The Webster Women Slay Black Friday

Black Friday shopping. Which can't honestly be called that anymore, now that stores open on Thanksgiving, and the best sales are then. I know many who boycott shopping on Thanksgiving, and I totally respect that decision, even though we don't make it ourselves. Different people. Different choices. All good.

Whether Thursday night or early Friday morning (as in the past), Black Friday is sacred to Shulamith and me; we've even been known to say it's more important than Thanksgiving, itself. I don't think we really mean that, do we???

That said, never in my memory have we found this level of sales. Well let me just show you our receipt from J.C. Penney's:

That's right. We were there for maybe one hour and saved a whopping $327! It was crazy.

Penney's wasn't our first stop. We began the evening around 5:00 p.m. at Target, followed by Wal-Mart. In both cases we found a few small items, but all things we really wanted, so it was good.

Then we were off to South Towne mall, which opened at 3:00 p.m., rather than midnight as in past years. It was so nice there, so festive and fun, way better than the claustrophobic environments of Target and Wal-Mart. The Penney's deals were incredible, but by the time we finished there, we were both pretty tired and ready for Diet Cokes and a Mrs. Field's cookie. We sat and looked at all the lights, as I crossed stuff off my “to buy” list, added stuff to “bought” list, and basically regrouped. When you have five kids, Christmas shopping is an intensive project. I like everyone to have the same number of gifts, as well as keeping the monetary amounts close to equal. It's tricky.

We were home early, much earlier than last year or the year before. I'm still looking at my lists in awe of the bargains we found.

Another Black Friday for history books, hands down one of our favorite days of the year. Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Let the Christmas season begin.

How to emotionally damage your child for life

As most of you know, I'm a bit of an anxious mom. I worry incessantly about my kids and really wish they would all just stay home, so I could sleep at night.

So it may surprise you to learn that, while I'm an anxious mom, I'm not a particularly sentimental one. At least not about stuff they make. I have exactly one file folder for each of my five kids. If something is amazing enough to find its way into that file, it stays forever. Not much is sufficiently amazing.

Which brings us to the topic of kid-made Christmas tree ornaments and the issue of this pine cone right here:

Luke made this pine cone when he was in second grade. Trying to be a good mom, I oohed and awed over it and proudly hung it on our tree. Shulamith is only one year behind Luke in school, so the very next year, she came home with an identical pine cone. Identical. All the way down to the ugly silver glitter that falls off everywhere.

Now come on. One of these pine cones is one too many, right? The last thing I needed was yet another one hanging on my tree. So I kept it around for a couple of years and then at some point, surreptitiously slipped it into the garbage.

At first, I pled ignorance. "Oh honey, I have no idea what happened to your pine cone?" She didn't buy it.

As she grew older and was still complaining about it, I turned to sarcasm. "It's because I love Luke more than I love you." That didn't work either.

Here we are today, over 20 years later, and she is still traumatized over that pine cone. Traumatized, I tell you. We can't decorate our tree without her complaining about it. I'm pretty sure every single thing that has ever gone amiss in her life is the result of me throwing away that flippin' pine cone.

It's the reason she is afraid of penguins.

It's the reason she drives like a maniac.

It's the reason she quit ballet lessons.

It's the reason she never learned geography.

It's the reason she won't eat fruits or vegetables.

So if you ever want to emotionally damage your child for life, throw away the ugly, glittery pine cone she made in second grade. It works. I promise.

Break a leg, Seth!

For me, the theatre has always been a passion. From the day my parents took me to see Peter Pan when I was five years old, that has been true. That night, I looked up at my mom and declared: "I want to do that." Lucky for me, the following year, Portland Civic Theatre produced the musical Gypsy, with the perfect role for a six-year-old girl, Baby June. Here is a picture from opening night:

I've been fortunate to perform in lots of different roles since then, so you can only imagine my delight when my own children also love the stage. Here is Eli, six years ago when he played Angus McGuffy in Skyview High School's production of Brigadoon:

Keeping the Erichsen-Webster tradition alive, Seth opened last night in the ensemble chorus of Hillcrest High's production of Mary Poppins. Truth be told, he doesn't love the limelight quite the way Eli and I do. What he does enjoy is singing in choir, and at his school, students in the highest choir are required to be in the musical. There are no exceptions. He had to take a 3-week break from his job (Thank you Macaroni Grill for being so accommodating) in order to handle the grueling rehearsal schedule. This school sorta thinks it's Broadway, so the kids have rehearsed six days a week for the past month! While he doesn't enjoy the many long hours, by tech week, he catches the spirit and gets excited. It happened last year when he was in Carousel, and again now.

I know I'm biased, but really, it was so great. Gerald had to work, but Shulamith and I were there to cheer him on. He wrote down the places he stands throughout the auditorium for all the musical numbers, so it would be easy for us to find him, and he bought our tickets in the best location to see him overall. My favorite was "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious," where he sang and danced on stage right next to Mary Poppins. Gerald and I have tickets to go again tomorrow. Can't wait!

Love you, Seth!

I will walk away. And pray.

Sixteen years ago in the 2000 Presidential election, my candidate, Al Gore, won the country's popular vote. That means more Americans who voted that day cast their votes for Senator Gore than for his opponent, George W. Bush. However, our country has this crazy, antiquated system called the Electoral College. Usually, it doesn't matter because the same candidate wins both. In 2000, that wasn't the case. It was a hard pill to swallow for sure, especially since it wasn't even clear if Governor Bush won the Electoral College. It all came down to a little county in Florida called Miami-Dade, where votes were counted multiple times due to issues with hanging chads and whatever. I don't think we will ever know for sure who won, but in the end, the election was called for Bush.

At that time I had five children at home, ranging in age from 15 years down to 5 months. I distinctly remember election night, sitting in my rocking chair nursing Seth, when Gerald walked into the bedroom and exclaimed "I think Gore's gonna do it!" We were so hopeful.

It wasn't to be. It took five weeks (!) for that election to be decided, but once it was, I remember talking to my four older kids, all of whom were well aware of our feelings:

"We may not agree with Governor Bush's politics, and no, we definitely didn't vote for him. But he will be our new President, and in that role, he deserves our respect."

Though I disagreed with most of President Bush's policies--and when he led our country to war over the myth of weapons that never really existed, oh how ardently I disagreed with him then--I never doubted that he was a decent human being. From everything I could tell, he seemed an honest, respectable guy, trying his best in a ridiculously difficult job. I respected him as a person, and I still do, politics aside.

Fast forward 16 years to yesterday's election. There are similarities to 2000, with one striking difference. Once again, the Electoral College fails us. It is almost a certainty that Secretary Hillary Clinton will win the popular vote, while losing the Electoral College, and thus, the Presidency. It is a much, much harder pill to swallow this time. I consider this outcome a tragedy for the country I love. I keep shaking my head and asking, "How could this happen?" It's like a nightmare. How could the United States of America elect such a man to be our President?

And there lies the striking difference between 2000 and now. I have no respect for Donald Trump. And the fact that he will be sworn in as our nation's President will do nothing to increase my respect for him. You see, that ship already sailed:

• It sailed with "I'm building a wall between here and Mexico, and I will make Mexico pay for that wall. Mark my words."
• It sailed with "I'm calling for a total and complete shutdown of Muslims entering the United States."
• It sailed with "I’ve said if Ivanka weren’t my daughter, perhaps I’d be dating her."
• It sailed with "The point is, you can never be too greedy."
• It sailed with "You know I’m automatically attracted to beautiful women -- I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet. Just kissing. I don’t even wait. And when you’re a star they let you do it. You can do anything...Grab them by the p***y. You can do anything.”

That ship has sailed. I don't respect the man.

All but one of those five children are now adults, and the fifth is a teenager. Amazingly, they still care what I think and like to hear what I have to say. What will I tell them this time? That I don't respect the President? That I think he's a racist, sexist bully, a narcissist who has no regard for anyone but himself? Well, they already know I think that. Here's what's new. I had to ask myself the question, "Is it possible to still respect the office of the President, while not respecting the person who holds that office?"

My answer is yes. I think it is. So I will respond to a Trump Presidency as I would deal with any bully. I will walk away. I will not engage with him. I will simply walk away. I will try to remember what Isaiah said last night: "He is just the President. He isn't a king. We still have checks and balances. It will be okay." I hope so.

I will walk away. And since I'm a praying person, I will pray. I will pray to one with greater wisdom and authority than I can comprehend, one who will not force the human will, but who has been a source of unwavering and relentless strength and protection to me throughout my life. I will pray for protection for my African-American, Latino, Muslim, and LGBT brothers and sisters. And though I don't fit into any of those groups, myself, I obviously fit into the one I left out: I will pray for women.

I will walk away. And pray.

We gather together, and we gather stuff. Both are good.

I've been thinking a lot lately about what it means to gather. My next week's Sunday School lesson is on the Gathering of the House of Israel, so it's been on my mind.

This past week, I had several opportunities to gather.

Friday, I drove to Rexburg to gather with Eli and Amanda. Our gathering wasn't particularly monumental, but it was lovely nonetheless. We watched movies, ate popcorn, drank soda, played cards, and watched TV. We stayed up late into the night talking. We gathered together.

Saturday morning, my friend Lindsey's daughter, Hanna, was baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Many family members, Eyres and Mechams alike, gathered from Utah, Idaho, Wyoming, and Montana to be with Hanna on this day, and I was privileged to gather with them. As I sat in the chapel awaiting Hanna's turn in this large stake baptism, I marveled at the joy of so many cousins together. They are all different ages, and most don't live near each other, but they gathered with obvious gladness to be reunited. Families are eternal, including extended families, and the Eyre/Mecham family is a shining example of what it means to nurture eternal relationships. We gathered together.

Saturday evening, I gathered for dinner with Eli and Amanda and their friend, Ben. Ben had been brining a pork roast for five days, and Saturday he cooked it and shared it with all of us. It was a simple meal, just the delicious pork, some potatoes and salad, but there was a spirit of grace in Ben's kind offer of this food that he had prepared all week. Thank you, Ben. We gathered together.

Sometimes we gather physically, and other times we gather in spirit. In just a couple weeks, we will gather to celebrate Thanksgiving. Some of us will gather here; some of us will gather in Rexburg a couple days later. At no point will we all be together physically, but always we are together in spirit because of the love we share as a family. We will gather together.

Earlier in the week, before I left town, Shulamth and I spent several hours gathering, not people, but stuff. When you gather stuff, it's not nearly as fun as when you gather people, but it's still pretty gratifying. Twice yearly, the City of Sandy sends around a large truck to pick up stuff. They will take anything you leave out in front of your house, anything at all: furniture, yard clippings, branches, trash, old bicycles, tires, wood, dead bodies--okay, maybe not that--but just about anything else.

Well you can imagine how this is heaven for an OCD girl like me. Shulamith and I clipped and clipped branches from our yard. We clipped the peach tree, the rose bush, and miles of blackberry bushes (who in his right might mind would plant all this crap in a yard?), and we made a beautiful pile in front of our house. It's not the highest pile in the neighborhood, but it's definitely competitive, and we are proud. Then we cleaned out the garage and backyard shed. Clear it out, baby...woo! We gathered stuff.

Sometimes we gather together. Sometimes we gather stuff. Both are good. Because when we gather, we are stronger, stronger in purpose, stronger in might, stronger in unity. And our garage gets clean too, so win/win.

Today I hugged my baby

Today I hugged my baby.

And by my "baby," I mean my 16-year-old son. I didn't care that his 16-year-old self maybe didn't want to be hugged right then. I didn't care at all. I held him tight for several minutes as tears formed in my eyes, and I thanked God that he was safe in my arms. And I prayed for his continued safety because like it or not, each day I must send him out into the world alone, a world that isn't always safe, a world in which I can't always protect him, no matter how much I want to.

You see, his high school is just around the corner from his former middle school, where he attended only three short years ago, and where today, a 14-year-old boy shot a 16-year-old boy. Children, both. Children with parents who no doubt love them every bit as much as I love Seth. Children whose lives and whose families' lives are now forever changed.

I don't know what happened. I heard it was a simple disagreement. I heard that after a verbal dispute, the shooter simply took out a gun and shot the victim. Again, just hearsay. I don't really know. I do know that teenagers, though they have adult-sized bodies, do not have adult brains. I do know that a 14-year-old is over a decade away from having fully-developed cognition, and I do know that the last part of the brain to develop is the prefrontal lobe, the part of the brain that governs impulse control and decision making. And I wish, oh how I wish, that this 14-year-old had not had access to a gun today.

I can't change that. I just keep thinking that the victim could so easily have been my own precious 16-year-old, the one I love more than life, the one I send out every day to a school so very near where this shooting occurred.

And it's terrifying.

So tonight I will pray. I will pray for the boy in the hospital fighting for his life. I will pray for his dear parents and the anguish they must be experiencing. I will pray for the shooter and for his parents, and for all the pain that lies ahead for them. I will pray for healing, the healing that only the power of the atonement can provide.

Tonight I will pray.

And I will hug my baby.

A blessing in my life

For the past week (literally), I've been celebrating my birthday. The actual day was Thursday, but I celebrate for the full week. Which is utterly baffling to Gerald. Every year he says things like "I thought your birthday was Thursday" (when we're celebrating on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, etc.). Then in April he asks Shulamith the same question during her week-long celebration.

But you see, I think birthdays are important, really important. My friend Jay said it best in her Facebook message to me this past week:

"I consider you a blessing in my life, so I am grateful for this day."

Yes! That's it! When I celebrate a friend's birthday, what I'm really saying is "I am glad you were born. I am so grateful that with the many possible times and places of eternity, you were sent to earth at this time and in this place, so we could walk the journey together.

That's why I celebrate. And when people celebrate my special day, I feel their love in return. So thank you, Jay, for explaining it so well in just a single sentence. I feel the same way about you, by the way.

My week began last Sunday when Eli and Amanda were here for the weekend to attend Eli's mission reunion. It was so great to have them here. Amanda made me dinner, yummy shepherd's pie, and Shulamith made a cake, and it was the perfect family celebration.

Eli and Amanda even brought me a present, this adorable sweater!

Tuesday I went to lunch with several friends from our ward at Five Guys, which turned out to be a great choice because all of these women have small children, who could run around and eat peanuts. I left with a gourmet cupcake from Sweet Tooth Fairy (thanks, Kara), which I ate the following morning for breakfast. You know it's my birthday week when I'm eating cupcakes on a Wednesday morning. Amy gave me a gift card to Straws, which I still have, but don't you worry; I will find the perfect time to redeem it.

Thursday, the actual day. I woke up at 5:00 a.m. (because my dumb anxiety doesn't care that it's my birthday) and couldn't get back to sleep, so I looked at my phone. A text message! Who would be texting me that early? Isaiah! He was in Spain, so eight hours ahead, and he sent me my first birthday greeting of the day, complete with electronic balloons. Love you, Isaiah.

Shulamith and I went to our favorite breakfast place in the entire Salt Lake valley: Park Cafe. French toast foolishness, anyone? You don't even know. That evening, she and I went to dinner with our friend Lacey at LongHorn Steakhouse and feasted on a delicious filet mignon. After dinner, Lacey went home, and Shulamith and I went to see the movie Girl on the Train, which proved just as scary and sad as the book, though actress Emily Blunt does an incredible job in the lead role.

Friday we ate lunch at Cheesecake Factory downtown (do you see a pattern here? Celebration = food fest), and Saturday we watched the first half of Finding Dory at the dollar theatre. I hated kids' movies even when I was a kid, so now.....ugh! But it was pleasant enough to sit in a theatre and eat that delicious movie popcorn that we were too full to eat Thursday night.

Today is the end. It's over. A full week of celebrating is now past tense. That said, yesterday I got to host a fun baby shower for a mom-to-be, and Monday night I'll go to dinner to celebrate two more babies on their way to earth, and then it will be almost Halloween! Let the celebrating continue.

Birthdays, brides, babies! Holidays, one and all. They are worth celebrating. Because life is worth celebrating. We are worth celebrating. As we celebrate together, the love grows.

Alicia, Kalinda, and me

My latest Netflix binge is the CBS seven-season drama The Good Wife. To say I'm obsessed is an understatement, but not as bad as Shulamith, who is already on the seventh season while I'm just in the middle of the fourth. I love the show; it's the perfect replacement while Suits is on break, but no, it never consciously occurred to me to start dressing like the characters.

Until I went shopping in Portland.

Back story, my mom has been buying me clothes literally my entire life. And she's really, really good at it. I remember in high school, girls complaining about their moms' taste in clothes: "My mom buys me the ugliest clothes, and then she expects me to wear them!" I could never relate. My mom is the best shopper I know, and she is especially good at finding perfect clothes for me. She gets my style. And she has this crazy sixth sense that, with few misses, can tell if an article of clothing on the rack is going to look good on me, even before I try it on.

So this past August when she said those magic words, "Let's go shopping; I want to buy you some clothes," I was like, "Uh...yeah!"

It turned out well. The new fall lines were out even though it was still sweltering hot. She bought me several different tops and three lovely dresses, none of which I would be able to wear until the weather cooled down. So I packed them in my suitcase, flew home, and hung them deep in the closet with my other fall/winter clothes.

Finally last week, the seasons changed. Temperatures dropped, quite suddenly it seemed, and I needed to pull out my fall/winter wardrobe. At that point I had pretty much forgotten what these new dresses even looked like, having only tried them on once in a dressing room in Portland back in August. But when I put on this red one, Shulamith immediately remarked, "You look just like Alicia Florrick." Alicia is the lead character in The Good Wife, so I went straight to a mirror to see for myself.

Sure enough! This dress does look like something Alicia would wear. I can pretend I'm a high-powered, corporate lawyer. Woo.

Today, I pulled out this black and royal blue sweater dress and put on some black tights and boots and thought to myself, "The red dress is definitely 'Alicia,' but this one? This one is totally Kalinda Sharma." Now I can pretend I'm a brave investigator who goes into sketchy places and doesn't get scared (which is the total opposite of me).

So there you have it...my Good Wife dresses. Alicia, Kalinda, and me.

"I just LOVE these flowers!"

My birthday was yesterday, but since I celebrate it for an entire week, I won't likely write the blog post about it until later tonight or even tomorrow. But there is this one gift I'll tell you about right now.

Shulamith took her 4-year-old son Swen to the grocery store to buy me a present. He had thought he would buy me a Hot Wheels car (a red one because that is my favorite color), but when they passed by the florist kiosk and he saw fresh flowers, he told him mom that was what he wanted to get.

Shulamith: "You want to buy Her flowers for her birthday?"

Swen: "Yes. And when Her sees these flowers, she will say 'Swen! I just LOVE these flowers.'"

So they bought flowers.

When they arrived home, Swen came running into the house, a bouquet of fresh flowers in his hand extended out in front of him, and nearly throwing them in my face, he said, "I got you flowers for your birthday!!"

...to which I immediately replied...

"Swen! I just LOVE these flowers!"

He was right.

Once upon a car wash

To most of us, a car wash isn't very significant. But to one little boy, it's everything. To say Shulamith's 4-year-old son is obsessed with car washes would be a gross understatement. They are on his mind nearly all the time. The imagination with which he creates car washes out of practically everything in his environment is nothing short of genius.

Take, for example, my kitchen sink. Methodically, he takes each of his Hot Wheels cars through the car wash, which includes several squirts from the liquid soap dispenser, followed by serious cleaning with a hand-held scrub brush, followed by the rinse cycle under the faucet, followed by drying with a dish towel.  After washing maybe 20 cars, he returns downstairs. Shulamith: "Are you all done up there?" Swen: "No, I just came down to get more cars."

Or consider as another example, my kitchen counter. On a much larger scale, he puts himself and his 2-year-old sister through a different kind of car wash. It consists of a large brown blanket, strategically placed on one side of our island counter. He and Kennedy roll round in that (mud) to get very dirty. Next they crawl around to the other side of the island where the "car wash" is. Several mops and brooms lie across the counter, hanging off the edge to represent the various parts of the car wash cycle, and Swen and Kennedy walk through, so their heads graze the mop strings that hang down. And do you think my broom is ever in my broom closet? Nope. Because when I'm not home, he comes up here and steals it in order to create this car wash downstairs in his own house.

Sometimes the car wash is less ornate; a boy can only work with what he has. In restaurants, salt and pepper shakers placed side by side, a few inches between them become the car wash. Even two Diet Cokes side by side or two straws or two ketchup bottles can work in a pinch.

On all too rare occasions, he gets to drive through a real car wash, and I can't think of anything that makes him happier. Not food. Not candy. Not ice cream. Not toys. Not even cars, though he likes those a lot. He rides quietly though the car wash--a true introvert he is--but you can see the excitement develop on his face and in his eyes, the further we get into the wash. And when those spin brushes come up against his window, well, the world doesn't get any better than that.

Once upon a car wash. And a little boy. And a brilliant imagination. 

Why do we have seasons?

Why do we have seasons?

This was a question from Eli, posed on our family text thread a few days ago. His geography teacher at BYU-Idaho told students to ask five people this question and record their honest, immediate answers. He said 95% of Harvard University students don't get it right. Our answers varied, but I think most of us knew that it has to do with the fact that the earth tilts on its axis.

That said, there is more to life than science. Last night, Seth and I went to McDonald's for an impromptu ice cream and Diet Coke run. As he drove, I read our nightly scripture, and then he talked to me about how much he loves the fall. The cooler temperatures, the changing colors, the best holidays--everything about fall is wonderful. I agree.

Maybe it's not all about the tilting earth; maybe it's about us humans and our need for change. Because as much as we all love summer, most of us are more than ready for a new season.

I sure am.

Especially this year.

These past few months have been been way more stressful than I would like, with one crazy problem right on top of the last one. There have been high points for sure: Eli's beautiful wedding, trips to Portland, Rexburg, and St. George, birthdays to celebrate. Still, it's been trying, and my anxiety has spun right out of control. Now I'm pretty sure you dear readers are beyond tired of hearing about my dumb anxiety (boring!), so I won't say much. Bottom line is I'm still alive and well, even though my mind loves to tell me otherwise.

So I, for one, was more than happy to turn the page on this lovely calendar. I can't wait to wake up tomorrow to a new month, and the start of my favorite three months of the year. The icing on the cake? Because October 1st happens to fall on a Saturday this year, tomorrow also begins General Conference, the two-day, semi-annual worldwide meeting of our church. And let me just tell you, General Conference is a "thing" at the Erichsen-Webster home. We plan for it carefully. Seth's last words before I dropped him off at work just now were, "Have you bought the General Conference snacks yet?" Not yet, but I'm headed to the store right now.

Between sessions tomorrow, we'll pull out our decorations and turn our home black and orange. Our environment will change, not only outside but inside. Change is good. It informs our brains that the future offers hope always. No matter how dark our current circumstances, the earth will continue to spin on its tilted axis, and seasons will come and go accordingly. I'm guessing the savior knew something about this. And I'm grateful.

My three words for the new month and season ahead: Bring. It. On.

GNO, peaches, and Eli

GNO, peaches, and Eli. At first glance you may wonder what those three things could possibly have in common. The answer is absolutely nothing. Except all three comprised my weekend, making it pure delight, so much so that it deserved a blog post all its own.

Friday night, some friends from our ward got together for a Girls' Night Out, in honor of our sweet friend Lacey, who will be moving soon and leaving the ward. She's not going far, but far enough. We will still get to see her, but not enough. We will miss her.

I will miss her.

We gathered at Lacey's favorite Chinese restaurant around a long table and ordered way too much food, which (minus the broccoli beef) was delicious. Broccoli is one of those things that I so wish I liked; it's on everyone's short list of the healthiest foods, but on my list, it's also the yuckiest. Eww. I can't really remember what all we talked about that night, but I know we mostly laughed. Lots. Moms need breaks from kids. Women need connections with other women. GNO cannot be overrated.

Following dinner, five of the nine of us headed to the Century 16 theater to see what would turn out to be the most depressing movie in the history of ever. Goodness! It was artfully created with beautiful scenery and decent acting, but I can hardly think how it could be any sadder. It reminded of the first time I read Jude the Obscure, okay the only time I read it, when after each page, I would think, "The only thing worse that could possibly happen is ____________," and then I'd turn the page, and it did. That's how it was with this movie, which was extremely slow moving, sort of like pain. When you're in the middle of pain, time creeps. It's like pushing through thick fog, and you can't see the end. This movie did end eventually, but every bit as sadly as it began. What movie was it, you want to know? The Light Between Two Oceans.

Saturday morning, after a yummy Waffle Love breakfast, Shulamith and I came home and tackled our out-of-control peach tree. A week ago, I offered peaches to whomever wanted them, and lots of people came and took some. Then I had a peach party and made jam, but still, there were so many peaches left on that tree. Most were getting old and rotten, and there were hundreds that had fallen to the ground, so it was a bit of a project. I dealt with the ones on the ground, and Shulamith picked the ones left on the tree, separating out the good ones from the rotten ones as she clipped branches. If you know her, you know how self-sacrificing that was, since she'd prefer not to be within 10 feet of a peach. Every once in a while, I'd get bombarded by peaches falling on my head like giant hailstones. In those moments I could only wonder, "Why would anyone in his right mind plant a giant peach tree in his front yard?"

We finally finished, and I went inside to do some school work, when suddenly the front door flew open, and in walked none other than Eli! I was so excited and surprised that I jumped right out of my chair and ran over to hug him. Amanda was spending a girls' day (which is almost as good as a GNO) with her aunt and grandma who live here, so we got Eli for all of the afternoon and part of the evening. He and I enjoyed long and delightful conversations, a nice walk, and then lunch with Seth and Isaiah, and dinner with Isaiah and Gerald.

GNO, peaches, and Eli. Weekends don't get any better.

It took over four years, but we finally arrived in St. George

Over four years ago, we decided to take a family weekend trip to St. George. Shulamith was eight months' pregnant with her first child, so the two of us planned to do very little other than lounge by the pool and drink Diet Coke, while Gerald hiked and Matt climbed rocks and the others did whatever they pleased. We booked a hotel, packed our bags, and planned to leave first thing the following morning.

Then this happened.

And we never made it.

And time went by.

And lots of other stuff happened.

But in the true Erichsen-Webster spirit of determination, though it took four years, we finally made that trip happen. Not everyone was able to go, but we are grateful for those who came: Gerald and I, Isaiah, Seth, and the four Monsters (Monson-Websters). We stayed in a lovely condo with a nice pool and hot tub and ate copious amounts of food.

Because for Shulamith and me, it's pretty much all about food. And since she and Matt have visited St. George a couple of times recently, she had a solid list of “must eat” restaurants, and I'm proud to say we managed to squeeze in every last one of them. Can I take just a second here and talk to you about crepes? Oh. My. Goodness. There is this place called The Crepery, which serves a variety of delectable crepes, both sweet and savory. Shulamith and I went there both mornings while everyone else slept (well, Gerald went hiking), and both times I ate the most perfect crepe with cheesecake filling, strawberries, bananas, and chocolate sauce. I'm not even kidding.

Then there was this pizza place she had told me about, with a thin, crispy crust and 4-cheese blend. I got one for Gerald and me with mushrooms, olives, and feta cheese. Mmmm. Then on our way out of town, we went to the Mexican place I'd heard so much about, and once again, I was not disappointed. Warm, miniature corn tortillas with grilled steak, chicken, or pork (okay, Seth got beef tongue because he's Seth), augmented by a salsa bar that included pinto beans and guacamole.

In case this is all making you too hungry, let me switch it up and share some memorable quotes from the weekend:

“It sounds like she's dying up there.” --Isaiah, in response to Kennedy screaming because she wasn't quite ready to go to bed.

“Of course I type in h, t, t, p, colon, backslash, backslash, w, w, w, dot, whatever. There are options other than http, such as ftp, so the browser needs to know which one.” --Gerald, trying to explain why he insists on typing all this every time he goes to a new website, even though we all know you don't have to.

“Why the eff are we trying to speak French?” --Seth, in a group family text chat discussion of the proper way to pronounce the word “crepe.” Which is of course with a short /e/, rhyming with “prep” or “strep.”  It's an imported word from French, and yes, we should honor its correct, French pronunciation. Duh.

“They took out my cocktail insert.” --Isaiah, when he and Shulamith and I ditched everyone else and went to an upscale steak restaurant because Shulamith had a gift card. As the host handed us our menus, he left the cocktail insert in Shulamith's and mine but deliberately removed it from Isaiah's. It's okay. He's only 25 after all.

“I TOLD YOU SO.” --Matt, when the only cupcakes left were one coconut, one pumpkin, four chai tea, and a few banana. So the cupcake place was yet another item on the “must eat” list, and if you go there after 7:00 p.m., cupcakes are half price. We are always all about a deal, but Matt kept warning Shulamith that if we waited until 7:00, all the good flavors would be gone. She didn't listen. That said, my banana one was pretty tasty, though I would have loved to try the chocolate raspberry.

“How many monkeys are too many monkeys? One or two?” --Dumbest Fibbage question ever, directed to poor Isaiah, who was utterly baffled by how to answer, leaving us all laughing uncontrollably. And....you probably had to be there.

“Why does Matt always peer pressure Seth into doing these crazy, scary, dumb things? Ugh, I hate it when he does this.” --Terrianne, as Matt attempts to convince Seth to climb up a tree, swing on a rope, and land in a pond of freezing cold water.

“Mom is about to mess her pants.” --Shulamith, while we watched Seth prepare to swing from the rope, and my anxiety was in the stratosphere.

Even though it took us four years to get there, our weekend in St. George was definitely worth the wait. We know that families are forever, and I'll gladly spend forever with these guys, as well as the ones who weren't with us. We are blessed indeed.

The color of peach jam, and other threshold concepts

What color is peach jam?

You may not think this a very significant question, but I beg to differ. If you dig deep, the answer might be richer and purer than you ever imagined. It might even speak to the heart of relationship, or of hard work, or of community, or of learning. In my freshman composition class, we teach about threshold concepts. We encourage students to think in new ways and to leave older, more traditional ideas behind, even those they have held dear for a long time. We ask them to allow and even welcome a shift of paradigm, as they examine their own unique experiences with rhetoric.

Have you ever walked with determination and clear purpose into a room, but the second you're there, you completely forget what that purpose was? "What did I come in here for?" And you have to turn around and go back through the door in order to remember? There's actually scientific research that helps explain this phenomenon. When we walk through a threshold, something shifts in our brains, and we leave the past behind, sometimes even the whole reason we walked through the door in the first place. The threshold informs our brains to focus forward, on the future, on something new. How fitting, then, is the age-old tradition of the groom carrying his bride over the threshold, as the two leave the past behind and enter into a new life together!

Threshold concepts are new and sometimes even troublesome ways of negotiating life, but that trouble is not a bad thing--in fact often, it's supremely helpful. It allows us to grow, to progress, to evolve. I encountered several threshold concepts yesterday, as three women came to my house to can peaches and make jam:

First, I discovered that a common goal unites people, even virtual strangers, in an effort to achieve. Of the three women at the peach party, only one was a close friend. The other two I knew only casually. But after five hours of sticky peach juice and sugar water and steam canner anxiety, we were connected. A relationship was formed, community established. And even if we never do this again, that community will continue to exist and endure. Threshold.

Second, I discovered that for some people, canning and jam making are more than just the work required to produce a result; indeed, for some, such activities are actually enjoyable. While my friend is a bit more like me and willing to put for the effort in order to achieve the goal (yummy jam), the other two are positively elated in the process, so much so that they would happily do it every single day, and in the fall months, one of them even does! Threshold.

Last, I discovered that the color of peach jam matters. After repeated comments by the other three women regarding the glorious color of this new jam, I finally caved and asked, "What color is it usually?" Because, to me, it just looked sort of bronze-ish, a bit like the color of a summer sunset, and not all that spectacular. I was told that it's usually just plain orange. And this is..... better. Threshold.

So the next time you walk through a door for a very specific reason, only to completely forget what that reason was, do not be dismayed. Embrace it! Leave the past behind, and welcome the shift in paradigm. The "new" you discover might awaken something inside you that, though troublesome at first, proves ultimately enlightening. Like the color of peach jam.

Sayler's Old Country Kitchen and Mo's Chowder House

Not to imply that everything is about food.

Except it sort of is.

I spend about 80% of my time on a strict, low-fat eating plan, dreaming about all the wonderful food I wish I could eat. I spend the other 20% of my time "off plan," eating all that wonderful food. And so is my life.

My three days in Portland were clearly "off plan."

The second night I was there, I ate dinner with my mom, my brother, and his 18-year-old daughter at Sayler's Old Country Kitchen, home of the 72-ounce steak. I'm not sure if it's the nostalgia or the food that makes this place so special, probably both. You see, growing up, the Country Kitchen was our "place." I remember going there many, many times with my mom and dad, Tom (Tommy), and my grandparents. I'm pretty sure we went there at least monthly, sometimes more.

And other than the prices, little has changed. It's exactly the way I remember it from four decades ago. Every meal begins with an iced relish tray filled with celery, carrots, and olives. This is followed by thick-sliced french bread with melted garlic butter and a green salad with choice of dressing. Finally, the main course arrives, which for us, means a beautiful Fillet Mignon steak, cooked to order. They have a 4-oz one for kids, and I remember my mom ordering one of those for Tommy and me to share. I was so proud when I eventually graduated to my own kids' steak, and eventually, I had to order from the adult menu because I was eating my own steak plus a good portion of my dad's. The end of the meal is ice cream, peppermint or spumoni.

The menu is shaped like their famous 72-ounce steak and is even the exact size of it. That is one huge steak (!), and customers who eat the entire thing in a certain amount of time get it free of charge. Tommy and I always tried to get our dad or grandpa to attempt it, but they never did (for good reason, obviously). Sitting there last Sunday evening, those three were close to my heart: my dad and grandma and grandpa. I miss them, but I cherish the memories.

The following day, Tom, my mom, and I headed to the Oregon Coast, yet another place of nostalgia. We spent time in both Seaside and Cannon Beach. Tom and I reminisced about the days of childhood and that one time we were riding the "Octopus" in the amusement park, and the operator forgot about us and left us sitting high up on the ride.

We walked on the sand, watched the crashing waves, and breathed the calm ocean air. But the highlight was, of course, the food. We ate dinner at Mo's Restaurant, famous for its clam chowder. We ordered fried clam strip as an appetizer and then fresh shrimp salads, followed by a large family-style pot of clam chowder to share. Mmmm, can't even describe how good.

I came home wondering if I gained five pounds in just three days, but whatever. It was worth it. Another trip home to Oregon is now history.

"I do set my bow in the cloud...

...and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth" (Genesis 9:13).

The summer between my 7th and 8th grade years, a nice lady named MaryAnn knocked on our door and asked my mom if I would be interested in joining the International Order of Rainbow for Girls. A new group, Kellogg Assembly #92, was being formed, and MaryAnn was recruiting girls of the right age (12-20) from the neighborhood.

Little did I know what a defining moment that simple act would turn out to be. My mom asked me, and I said "yes," and the rest is, as they say, history.

This past Saturday evening, the group of six former Rainbow girls pictured above gathered in the same building that was once Farrell's Ice Cream Parlour, the very place we had gathered so many times, so many years ago, following various Rainbow activities. We talked. We laughed. We reminisced. We caught up with each other's lives. We laughed some more, literally to the point of tears. Some of us had not seen each other in over three decades, but that didn't matter at all. Rainbow sisters are sisters forever.

At one point Dorene (far right in photo), said, "Terrianne, you were very serious about Rainbow." Haha, I can't argue with her. For better or worse (and it was probably a bit of both), I took the whole thing very seriously. Nancy Rae (second from left) remembered me telling her she wasn't sitting properly while wearing a formal gown. According to Lorrie (fourth from left), I had listened to Mrs. Davis (stunningly beautiful older lady with white, sculpted hair, who was our Grand Deputy), who had taught me that a lady backs into a chair, until she feels the chair touch the back of her knees; then she floats gently down, knees together, and crosses her ankles. Honestly, I don't remember any of this, but I don't doubt for a second that it's true. Nancy Rae, will you accept my apology all these years later?

From the time I was 13 until I graduated and left for college, Rainbow was pretty much my life. It wasn't just one extracurricular activity; it WAS my extracurricular activity. At one point I had 27 formals hanging in my closet, which I wore 3-4 times a week to installations, initiations, and other Rainbow meetings. And it was grand! That said, the whole thing is sort of hard to explain to people who are unfamiliar with it. Like my kids, for example. "But what did you actually do there?" Well all sorts of things. We walked around in squares, bowed, memorized long sections of text and recited them (so fun!), wore formal gowns, and for four months each, served as Worthy Advisor, where we got to wear a crown, pound a gavel, and tell others what to do and where to go, whether east or west. Can you even imagine? I was totally in my element!

More seriously, though, the main purpose of Rainbow is service. Each Worthy Advisor chooses a service project on which to focus during her 4-month term of office. Jackie (second from right) chose to raise money to help support a child in a developing country. Dorene raised funds to provide seeing eye dogs for the blind. My service project? I can't remember. But I'm sure it was a good one, whatever it was.

In addition to service, Rainbow girls must raise money in order to function, and in Kellogg Assembly, the principal fundraising project each year was a Christmas gift wrap at Fred Meyer. We wrapped presents all of November, right up until Christmas Eve. I learned all my gift wrapping skills from the moms who chaperoned us, especially Mrs. Collmer, mom to Cathy (far left). I remember late one December night her teaching me how to make sure the crease of the wrapping paper goes right down the center of the package. To this day, I'm still ever so careful about this every year when I wrap my Christmas gifts.

The highlight of the year in Rainbow was Grand Assembly, when Rainbow girls from all over Oregon gathered on the campus of Oregon State University in Corvallis for what might loosely be defined as a huge, 3-day slumber party. Along with attending the state-wide meetings, the Kellogg girls did a few other things, including the "Order of the Pillows" (don't even ask) and an entertainment competition. The year we won, we created a circus to Three Dog Night's "The Show Must Go On." We had lions and lion tamers and jugglers and acrobats, and I was the ringmaster, who carried a whip and lip-synced the song. Good times!

Our mini, impromptu reunion, though small, was a riveting success! I only last week decided to go to Portland, and Nancy Rae put this all together at the very last moment. Next time we will provide more notice, so more people can attend. Our dear Mother Advisor, MaryAnn, had planned to be with us, but she got sick, unfortunately. We missed you, Mrs. Frack! But be assured, you were not forgotten. We talked about how you short-sheeted our beds at Grand Assembly and fed us refreshments out of cat food cans! We will always love you.

And each other. We will always love each other. Because rainbow sisters are sisters forever.

Swen and the art of buying whatever he wants

Yesterday, I took Shulamith's 4-year-old son, Swen, to the store. Shulamith is recovering from surgery and was napping with her daughter, Kennedy. We went to my least favorite store in the world, Wal-Mart, because I needed several different things.

Swen needed only one thing: a car. He has millions of cars already (okay, that might be hyperbole, but maybe not?), but he always wants more. He reminds me of a younger Isaiah, who once upon a time looked up at me and said, "Mommy, I know I already have a lot of these cars, but I just love them."

I told Swen that as soon as I gathered all the stuff I needed, he could pick out one, $.97 Hot Wheels car. He agreed.

I found everything I needed, and we headed to the toys. I spotted the $.97 Hot Wheels cars. "You can pick out whichever one of those that you want, but only the ones that say $.97." He quickly selected a yellow Hot Wheels car, and we were off to check out. It seemed strange to me that this whole choosing process went so smoothly. Usually, it takes hours (hyperbole again) for him to decide, as he continues to ask for bigger, more expensive cars. Not this time.

I paid little attention when we were checking out. I usually watch every item ring up, but I was a bit distracted.

Later in the day, Shulamith asked me why I bought Swen a color-changing Hot Wheels car. "Those things cost over $4.00!" I told her I didn't, that I told him to choose a $.97 Hot Wheels.

"Well, he didn't," she replied. "He definitely bought a color-changing one. Didn't you notice when you paid?"

Nope. I sure didn't. But my subsequent conversation with Swen is the part that inspired this post. He is so matter-of-fact and so funny.

Me: Swen, did you buy a regular Hot Wheels car today, or did you buy an expensive color-changing car.

Swen: I bought a color-changing Hot Wheels.

Me: But Swen, I told you to choose a regular Hot Wheels.

Swen: Her, I don't really like the regular Hot Wheels cars. I really only love the color-changing Hot Wheels. So that's what I bought.

How do you do five (without any alcohol)?

One time, years ago, I was standing in my brother's kitchen attempting to get a glass of water for some child (don't know which), while holding a newborn in one arm as two little boys hung one on each of my legs and an older kid was screaming a question to me from another room. My brother looked at me in dismay and asked, "How do you do five without any alcohol?" Keep in mind that he, himself, is the proud father to three lovely daughters so no stranger to parenting, but in that moment, my situation must have looked rather ominous.

It was not the only time I have been asked a similar question. My dearest and longtime friend, Lorrie, has posed that same question (minus the alcohol part) to me many times through the years. She is the devoted mother to two beautiful daughters, so the idea of five feels rather daunting to her. My answer to the question varies depending on the moment. Often I say, "I can't imagine it any other way; it just feels normal." Other times, a different, but equally truthful, answer comes to mind: "I focus my attention on the one who needs me most at the time, and the others sorta take care of each other."

That's how it's been this past week. Focusing on the one who needs me most at the time.

Newlyweds Eli and Amanda have been blessed with the most wonderful opportunity. Amanda landed an incredible job as an apartment manager at The Ridge, the very property where she and Eli lived when they met. It all happened quickly, though, and there was much to do. They had to find someone to buy out the contract on their old apartment and then move to the new one at The Ridge, all in less than a week. This job provides a lovely, spacious apartment with two giant bedrooms, all free of charge with utilities included. See what I mean about it being an incredible blessing?!

They asked if Gerald and I would be able to go to Rexburg last weekend to help them pack up and move. We were so excited to see the new apartment (and them!!) that we happily agreed. I was just grateful it wasn't the following week when Shulamith would be having surgery (Remember: focus on the one who needs you the most at the time). We drove to Rexburg early last Saturday morning and spent the day packing and moving. Their apartment is seriously so, so great; I sorta wanted to move there myself. Sunday, we cleaned the old apartment and helped the new family move in before we all drove back to Utah late Sunday night. Amanda had three days of training here in Draper Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. We enjoyed some good "Eli time" while she spent three days absorbing copious amounts of information related to her new job. Amanda, you're gonna be great!

In the middle of all that, Shulamith and I prepared 24 freezer meals, 12 for her in preparation for the upcoming surgery recovery, and 12 for me in hopes it might motivate me to eat at home more. Yeah, that won't happen, but it sounds good.

Eli and Amanda returned to Rexburg Wednesday night, and very early (5:30!) Thursday morning, Shulamith and I drove to the hospital for her surgery to remove a hematoma from her uterus and to strengthen and repair the uterus sufficiently to support future pregnancies. I have been to the hospital with each of my five children at one time or another. Still, I'm not used to it. I worry. I worry lots. My own dumb anxiety kicks into full gear. It is what it is.

One very fun thing happened, though; I got to wear this name tag:

Yep, I got to be "Shulamith W." for the morning. And it was pretty cool. You see I love the name "Shulamith." It's probably my favorite girl's name in the whole world. And my name? Can you really think of anything more lackluster than my name? I try to glam it up a bit by combining "Terri" and "Ann" together as one word and even adding an "e" on the end, but really, let's cut the crap: It's a boring name. "Shulamith," on the other hand, is properly glamorous, and I loved wearing this name tag and pretending it was mine. Truth, though, in the surgery waiting room, the friend or family member waiting for the patient in surgery wears the name tag of the patient, so when medical personnel come looking, they can easily spot the right person to talk to.

The surgery took about 1.5 hours, but she was gone an hour longer because her doctor had to go deliver a baby just as she was being rolled into the OR. I did pretty well (for me, that is) waiting. Let's just say my anxiety has spun way more crazy at other times, so I felt proud to keep it somewhat under control for the 2.5 hours I sat in that waiting room, wearing my "Shulamith W." name tag. I was even able to distract myself with a book about a girl who hit her head and lost her memory of the past 10 years, which included the births of three children and a marriage breakup. It's good; you should definitely read it.

But you can't begin to imagine my relief when I saw Shulamith's doctor walk into the waiting room looking for me. He was smiling from ear to ear, so happy to report the excellent news. You see, this whole deal has not been at all normal. Placenta accreta in the first trimester and post miscarriage never happens, never. So this nice doctor really had no idea what to expect when he began the surgery. But his exact words to me, once we moved to a private area, were, "This is absolutely the best possible outcome we could have hoped for." As tears poured down my face, he explained that he removed the golf ball sized mass (probably a hematoma and old pregnancy tissue) from the outside of the uterus and strengthened and reinforced the old C-section scar three times over, and in just a few short months, she would be in the clear to get pregnant again.

My baby can have another baby! She can have the family she has dreamed of. This nightmare is over, and everything is okay. I texted Matt immediately with the news and told him I was being my wimpy self and crying from relief, and I didn't even care if he made fun of me because I was just so happy. I had to wait another 30 minutes to see Shulamith and tell her the great news. She stayed in the hospital overnight and most of yesterday. When I think of the very best part of all that, two things come to mind--(1) the unlimited Diet Coke on tap just about five steps from her room and (2) when Matt brought their two kids to visit. Her oldest, 4-year-old Swen, was mostly interested in watching the cars out the window and twirling around in the privacy curtains that hang from the ceiling, that is until a nurse came in to check Shulamith's vitals:

"Wa, wa, wa, wait. Wait! What are you doing to Mommy?" he boldly asked the nurse. Protective of her already, he is. As the mom to four sons, I get this. And I love it. Then there was 2-year-old Kennedy, who just wanted snuggles.

We came home about 5:00 p.m. just in time for me to help Isaiah do laundry and get ready for three weeks on the road (Focus on the one who needs you the most at the time). He got all packed, and I drove him to the airport for his 10:30 flight. He will attend the DotA international tournament in Seattle this coming week (vacation!) followed by a week in San Francisco and a week in Vegas, both for work.

About the time I returned home, Seth texted that he had finished his shift at Mac. Grill and needed a ride. Ahh, Seth, the fifth and final. I feel like he's gotten only the leftovers this past week, and there hasn't been much left over. Grateful for a super cool Young Men's President, who took him out Pokemon catching one night and for the fact that Seth is honestly the most mature, responsible, and independent 16-year-old I know. As one blogger put it, "You are the last great love of our lives."

And there you have it. One week. Has it really only been one? I'm sitting here in my recliner blogging. I hear raindrops outside, which means it's time to go for a quick run because those precious drops never last long. Then I might even take a nap. Or finish my book about the girl with amnesia. Or wait for gymnastics to come on the Olympics.

Whatever I do, I will continue to be the mom to five, focusing on the one who needs me most at the time.