The day Grandma took me home with her. As told by Landon Stoker (Or as he would have told it if he could talk and type and upload pictures....)

So yesterday I woke up from my nap and my Grandma and Aunt Rebecca knocked on the door.  I hadn't seen them for a while, but they seemed okay.  They came outside with me while I played with water and put me in my new swing for the first time.  It was exciting to go forward and back almost 4 feet!  But not quite as exciting as when Grandma couldn't find how to release the safety straps.  She talked softly, but I saw the panic in her eyes.  Then she  loosened them and worked me out of the swing.  I like how Grandma doesn't do any work.  She just sits around and watches me and talks.  Mom's been busy stacking piles of clothes and saying words like, "Disney World, Magic Kingdom, Hotel."  (Boring)  Today Grandma and Rebecca were still here, but acted like they were going somewhere.  Well, I wanted to be part of the fun so I stuck close to them.  Besides that, my high chair, car seat, toys, bottle and pacifier were all in her car.  This was going to be awesome!  Maybe we could go to Target or even Toys R Us!  My mom put me in the car seat.  For some reason she kissed me a lot of times and had tears in her eyes.  Probably because she had to stay home and stack piles of clothes.  Too bad.  Stinks to be her.

It was great because Rebecca sat by me and played with me.  Then Grandma said, "Give him his bottle and pacifier and maybe he'll go to sleep."  Silly Grandma,  Mom told her I never sleep in the car.  I kept my eyes wide open.  BAM!  Unfortunately, Grandma must not know the way to Target because we drove a long boring time and we never got there.  Once we stopped at a gas station and Grandma went inside.  I'll bet she was asking for directions.  After about 3 1/2 hours of driving, I figured we should give up on going to the store and see what was going on at home.  Weird thing is, we didn't pull up to my house.  We pulled up to...Wait a minute...Isn't this the house we came to at Christmas time?  This was Grandma's!  What was going on?  I don't know if this is okay.  I asked Rebecca to take me outside.  Everyone was bringing all my stuff in to the house.  Hmmm.

Grandma put me in my highchair and gave me some food.  She took a picture of me to show Mom and Dad I was safe, but there was a bug flying around the blinds that didn't look very safe.  She killed the bug and took a picture of it to show that I was, in fact, safe after all.  Grandpa started putting up my bed and hanging black curtains to keep the light out.  I went down for a nap, finally, and it felt awesome.  Grandma turned on the fan in the bathroom so I didn't even hear Uncle Andrew come in and call out, "I'm home."

When I woke up I decided to explore since it looked like I was going to be stuck here for awhile.  Grandma's house is a little different.  All the good toys are kept up high.

 My uncles were super fun however.  Andrew showed me the cars and I showed him how I already know how to push them on the track.

 Uncle Gabe showed me how to play the piano and the bells.

  And best of all, the pounding and music making didn't stop.  It just got better and better, even at dinner!  I laughed and laughed at my uncles pounding the table and I pounded my tray, and we were awesome.

Grandma had my food cooling in the freezer and expected
me to be satisfied with my cheese, but Uncle Andrew had my back.
I was thankful and showed him by patting his arm with my
slimy hand.

After dinner I went outside a little bit.  I showed Grandma how I climb down the porch steps head first.  She was impressed, but it would have been cooler if she hadn't held on to me.  I could have gone so much faster.    Then it was time for my bath.  Grandma left a little water trickling for me to play in.  That was boring until I found out how to turn on the shower.  That surprised all of us.  Sometimes Grandma can be kind of a killjoy.  After the water started raining down, she took me out of the bath.

She dressed me, rocked me, sang me a song and put me to bed.  I hope tomorrow is as fun as today.  Too bad Mom and Dad and Caleb are missing all the fun.

Whitewater High School Graduation "Go Wildcats"

Chicken Parmesan for the graduate

Most of you have been to a high school graduation.  In fact, I'll bet a lot of you have been to one this week, so y'all could probably just skip this post with a "Been there done that."  But let's commiserate.  You know you want to.

One great thing about having a boy is the lack of apparel concern.  No graduation dress purchase.  No looking all over town for navy shoes only to realize there were only 2 pair in the city the year my daughter chose a navy dress.  Andrew showered, put on his Sunday outfit, you know what that is, we all know what that is which is the beauty of it, grabbed his hat, came back for his robe, and away he went.  It was a breeze.

 The seniors needed to arrive at 6:00.  The ceremony started at 7:00.  I didn't see much reason for me to hurry because if we were early we would have to sit in the bleachers longer and  be able to "not see" the same no matter where we sat.  At 6:00 my very astute son called with the alert that the traffic was bad, parking limited, come soon if we wanted to sit anywhere and take 85 not Old Senoia if we wanted to skip the bottleneck.

We followed his advice and snagged one of the last 10 parking places in the school lot, not the high school lot, but a lot none the less.  Luckily, we aren't afraid to walk, and it occurred to me that the further we were from the venue, the closer we were to home.

See those stadium lights in in the far left?  That was our destination.
(A little whining can be fun.)

We made it to the stadium and joined the ranks of the thousands of senior supporters.  The older I get the more sensitivities I'm developing.  I get a little stressed out with crowds and noise.  I mean, who cares, right?   I'm a big girl, but it explains why I feel a bit rattled and grumpy at stadium events. When I saw a sweet grandma walking in with a big balloon bouquet, I felt a bit of a tantrum coming on.  I pictured her sitting right in front of someone with those balloons floating all big and in the way of the happenings.  I'm sure I deserved it when she chose the row right in front of me, but she was very polite and stuffed them safely between the bleachers.  Shame on me for being such a funsucker.

 Everyone got situated and before we knew it the robed graduates began marching in to the song, the song that doesn't end until the director says it ends, Pomp and Circumstance.  Okay, it's always heartwarming to see the graduates and hear the music and think about the end of the era and the little chicks flying the coop. That is, if little chick works his heart out and earns some moolah this summer.

Every high school has different traditions.  The tradition at Whitewater (always said with a southern accent) is that the salutatorian is introduced by her friend and speaks, and the valedictorian is introduced by her friend and speaks.  The seniors in the choir sing a special number,  then the principal briefly lists the accomplishments of the year. I don't think he spoke more than 10 minutes.  Beautiful.  Then they started the name calling, I mean reading.  Approx. 400 graduates, last name starting with "S", we had a little down time before we needed to cheer.  Gabe and Paul played the dot game, Rebecca listened politely and I learned how to celebrate a graduate.

I thought the balloon Grandma was going to give her bouquet to her senior.  Then I saw balloon bouquets escaping into the sky.  Gabe reminded me how I don't buy ballons for children because they always lose them to the atmosphere.  That's true. I've watched  one too many hearts broken by helium.  Anyway, I finally figured out, they release the balloons as the names are read as a symbol of celebration.  Did everyone already know that?

The other thing I learned is how to yell for your graduate.  We typically have done the weak little "woo hoo, clap, clap,"  but in GA you stand and yell or scream as loud as you can for as long as you can.  Let that child know you're there.  We enlisted a little help from some pros who were sitting nearby.  But, we still need to work on our projection.  We'll be ready for Rebecca.

And then they moved their tassel and threw their hat, and it was over.  Families rushed the field and took pictures with their graduates, who were a little more difficult to find considering  their electronics had been confiscated, but I don't necessarily disagree with the policy.  We hugged and congratulated our beautiful boy and then headed back across the field and through 2 parking lots to our car.  All the cars took turns politely  and soon we were on the road home.  We made it, and we have a nice red graduation robe to add to our nativity costumes for the wise men.

Good job Andrew.  I love you.

Happy Birthday, Susie.

I was 3 1/2 when Amy Susan was born.  We called her Susie and was she ever cute.  She was as calm as I was hyper, and her eyes were deep brown.

 It was interesting for me to have a baby in the house, my own sister.  I remember my mom giving her an orange tied in a clean cotton rag to suck on for a pacifier.  Her cheeks were very kissable.  She liked to be rocked and sung to and she was very cuddly.

I was thrilled that she was cuddling cheek to cheek with me.  I begged my mom to take a picture.

As she grew she became even cuter, if that's possible.  Her voice was so adorable people would ask her name again and again to hear her say, "Susie" (What punctuation conveys the preciousness?"  Once she looked into my mother's face and observed, "You have babies in your eyes."  Okay, it was a little tough to take when she was 3 and I was 7 and everything she said was cute, and everything I said was annoying, but that's how life goes, and she had a gift.  She's still darling and we all love to hear her cute laugh.

Me, Susie and our cousin, Maren

 She was obedient and easy.  My mom's friend was amazed when that tiny little girl was setting the table.  When my next little sister was born and would be crying,  little Susie would push her around the neighborhood in the stroller.

Susie, Melinda, Nana, Mary, Me

She is caring and compassionate.  I'll never forget the day I said something sassy to my mother and made her cry.  I huffed out of the room.  When I returned, Susie had her little arms around Mom's neck making her feel so much better.  Once she had made wheat pancackes for our children for breakfast.  She asked if my little boy wanted syrup.  I thought they were delicious plain and said, "Oh he can just eat them with butter."  A while later I noticed the child hadn't eaten his pancakes.  Susie looked at me with sad eyes and said, "He has no syrup."  

Susie has a very nice singing voice.  When she was little, Mom dressed her in overalls and a straw hat and taught her the song "If I had one wish to make."  We always called for encores to this fantastic number made fabulous by her sweet sincerety and cute little voice.  It went like this, only Susie did it better.  (No bias) 

When she was a senior in high school, she and our sisters, Melinda and Mary, won the Dos Palos High School talent show with their Andrews Sisters' "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy."  Later they worked up an awesome  "Breakin' up is hard to do."  She wisely married a musical husband and all her children have musical gifts.

Susie and I didn't go to High School together.  At the time I thought maybe I was okay with that, but when I saw the team that the next sisters had, I realized they were the lucky ones.  In my preteen and teen years I thought she was so much younger than I was.  I wish I would have tried to be kinder to her and make her my friend when we were young, because she is wonderful and has been one of my best friends throughout my life.  

At some point I recognized that she was more responsible than me. She worked and had money for cute clothes and whatever else she needed. When I was a senior, through a certain turn of events including other people turning down the award for a different award, I was named "Best Dressed Senior Girl."  The irony came on the "take a picture for the yearbook" day.  There was actually more than one "take a picture for the yearbook" days on account of the planets not aligning..  Every time I got dressed in my "Best Dressed Senior" outfit it was from Susie's closet, so the award should actually be called, "Senior with the best dressed sister."

 By the time she got to BYU, I was married  with a baby, and she was, you guessed it, soo cute.  She was the model prep and I was the model "Wear your husband's clothes because none of your clothes fit."  But I was proud of her and waited out her glory days so we could share our motherhood journey together (which are the REAL glory days.)

BYU co-ed with my firstborn

After her marriage to Paul Johnson she spent some time in Wisconsin.  I thought she was gone forever.  Then she moved to Chicago and I moved to Nebraska.  Now we were neighbors.  I would bring my million babies to her house and get inspired to be a better homemaker.  Every Thanksgiving she taught me to make an ornament that I could give to friends.  At Christmas she sent me the best cookie recipes.  In the summer she got me excited about sewing projects; totes, glasses cases, scrapbooks, etc.  One year I brought my unfinished quilt blocks to her house so she could save me and help me succeed.  I would sew the blocks together wrong, she would pick out the errant seams in a flash.  I would try again.  She never left me and I finished every block.  

Pete, Me, Susie, Megan and Sam

We aren't neighbors any more.  I live in GA and she lives in Iowa.  But, I still call her regularly, and she gets me excited about healthy food, BYUTV, books, fitness, and whatever cool thing she's doing that I need to do.

And she's still adorable and I love her and I'm so thankful that she's my sister.

Susie and her beautiful family

How to have a fantastic summer.

One down 2 to go. School is so close to being out.  Andrew is done.  Rebecca is all but done, and Gabe wants to be done.  It's coming, that beautiful time of endless possibilities.  And because summer is so magical, I'm starting to feel the presssure that I always feel when expectations are high and my abilities are middling.  How are we going to make this summer great?  It started in March when people began asking me what we were doing this summer.  The answer is pending. As I thought about our greatest summer memories, very few of them were planned and organized by a mother.  Okay, I always have opinions, but mostly my job is to organize the work and structure so as to raise the value and motivate the possessors of free time.


When my Dad was in Dental School and we lived in the projects at Wolsey Ct. in Portland, Oregon, my memory of summer is of me pretty much running free through the neighborhood with my friend, Wess.  My mom was available, and I had to iron my washcloths before I could play, but she didn't plan my whole day. I'm pretty sure no adult would plan bee catching as the activity.  She did provide me with the mason jar, but I came up with capturing them in the clover and adding them to the jar until there were too many to manage all by myself. When an errant bee sneaked out and stung me on the finger I knew it was time for the next activity.  I went crying to my mommy and she put baking soda paste on the sting.  When I forgot how bad it hurt, the bee catching would resume.  One time I needed some money, so I put some clover leaves in a pretty box lined with cotton and went selling door to door.  No one needed any clover leaves that day, but maybe some other time.

When I was 5 our family moved to Corvallis, OR. We lived first on Grant Street.  The best thing about summer on Grant Street was sitting in the cherry tree eating cherries and spitting the seeds to the ground.  I felt satisfied that I was planting a new tree with every spit.  There should be about 500 cherry trees in a 20 ft. radius right about now.  On another great day, after my sister and I dressed like ladies, I used the high heel of my beautiful lady shoe to stab into the fallen gravenstein apples so we could suck out the juice.  On special days my mom let me walk down to the store to buy a nickel fudgesicle if I promised to use the crosswalk.  I had another favorite activity that my mom never knew about.  It gives me shivers to think about it.  I would push my bike up to the top of a double hill.  The reward for the long push was soaring down, fast as the wind.  So, there was a stop sign at the bottom of the hill.  I almost always stopped, but maybe a couple of times, if it looked like there were no cars, I sped right through the intersection.  Basically, I could have gotten myself killed, but for some reason I was spared.  No one ever do that.  Ever.

On Circle Place we had the Johnsons as neighbors.  I have mentioned playing with them before.  The most magical summer activity was when Kris and Lori started collecting comic books.  Have we talked about my love for Archie and Betty and Veronica and Jughead?  Well, we didn't just read comic books.  We had a comic book fort.  We hung sheets from the clothes line and laid around on sleeping bags reading stacks and stacks of comics.  The most magical part of all was our secret food stash.  Earlier, we had put cake mix onto aluminum foil squares and folded them up.  We hid them around the yard.  When we were hungry we just found one, added hose water, and voila!  Instant cake batter.  That was the life.  In Corvallis, it never got hot outside.  If it hit 70 degrees we went all crazy and busted out the swimsuits and sprinklers.  We usually had goosebumps and a towel close by.  The public pool was indoors and of course my mom let me ride my bike over there if I had a friend.

In California, it was definitely hot...like over 100 every day hot.  When we were lucky, a neighbor would invite us to their pool.  Otherwise we rode our bikes 1.5 miles into town.  It seemed like 15 miles.  It's probably because of the high level of danger we had to endure.  The Bunting family across the street owned a Newfoundland named Major. He could have gobbled me in one bite.  When he came bounding out of the yard to chase me down the road, it's lucky I didn't die from a heart attack.  I don't think that much adrenaline is healthy.  If we didn't get eaten by Major, there were the Olds'  little yappy dogs to contend with.  They weren't much bigger than rats, but they actually did bite, so it was hard to relax with one of them at your heels.  If I pedalled fast enough and long enough they got tired and went back home.  It made the ride to town a little more exciting than it should have been, but we braved it.  If we turned right instead of left on Visalia road we could go to Amelia's grocery for a candy bar.  So dogs or no dogs, we braved the ride frequently.  The best part about summer in CA was watermelon, grapes, peaches, and berries from my dad's garden, and lots of cantaloupes from generous farmers.

Summer is a great time for children to develop the important skills, Lego building, friendship bracelet making, beading, tennis, Quidditch, slip 'n slide, theme parties, yard saling, shirt tie-dying, water balloon construction and throwing, and couch to couch reading.

Summer reading is still one of my favorite things in life. Thanks, J. K. Rowling for the week of 5 people fighting over two books night and day, and for making road trips infinitely more tolerable.  What worse punishment could there be than to get booted from the Harry Potter on tape car into the Mom and babies car for bad behavior?  For the final Harry Potter installment we went to 4 stores before we found the rare and coveted audio CD's.  But there was a little too much text for the trip from Utah to Illinois.  Our friends were understanding when after our arrival the kids couldn't take the suspense and  sequestered themselves in another room to listen to the resolution.  There was the Eragon summer and the Twilight summer and the Hunger Games summer and the Inkheart summer and the Mistborn Summer...so great.

 And of course we'll be eating our favorite summer foods; watermelon, peaches, snow cones, orange juice popsicles, Publix Hula Hula ice cream,  mango salsa, and fresh tomato salsa.  I've banned my kids from ice pops.  I know I'm old and crotchety, but I found one too many plastic wrappers on the grass and snapped.  But maybe I'll introduce them to hose water cake batter.

Blessings on the heads of the mothers of my grandchildren.

So, I'm living the golden years of motherhood.  The only thing that wakes me up at night is a little trip to the bathroom.  Well, I confess, there is that occasional sleepless night of anxiety, but those nights are largely optional at this point.  Six of my children are adults living away from home.  I still want them to eat vegetables and go to bed early and clean their rooms, but I don't really know if they are or not and that makes us all happier.  They call me and tell me their news and that they love me.  I see them once or twice a year.  At that point my mother brain locks in and I tell them to stand up straight and cut their hair and once that's over, they impress me with what they've learned and become since leaving me.  I'm very proud of them and I think they're wonderful.

The kids at home make their own lunches and breakfasts.  Two of them do their own laundry.  They never cry out loud.  They still tantrum a bit, but not more than I do.  I worry about them choosing happiness, but I don't worry about them dying in their sleep, or running into the street, or if they'll learn to read.  In fact,  I've just been ignoring them for an hour.  I went around the house and did a spot check and this is what I found.  All is well.

Okay, they posed for the camera.  They were doing homework.

Sometimes I look at pictures of when they were little, and I'm surprised at how long ago that seems, and how short a time that was.  I was sharing these observations with my daughter-in-law.  I said those crazy things that grandmas say to young mothers, "Enjoy them while they're little.  They grow up so fast."  She insightfully reminded me, "I know that's true and I'm trying to remember that, but I can't even go to the bathroom by myself."

 I realize that the memory loss that comes along at my age is one of the secrets to happiness, but I want to step out of my blissful state for a moment to thank the mothers of my grandchildren for giving all to the health and well-being, temporal and eternal, of my beloved grandchildren.

Thank you for pushing through months of nausea, and discomfort as new life grows within you.  Thank you for enduring the pain that gives way to birth into this mortal probation.  Thank you for loving the father of your children and keeping the promises you made on your wedding day.  Thank you for nursing and feeding your newborn child and sustaining their new little humanity.  Thank you for keeping them clean, diaper after diaper, in the day, in the night, on the road, at the store, and on and on and on.  Thank you for washing their sweet small clothes that may or may not be damp with spit-up, urine, milk, and who knows what else.  Thank you for being patient with their tears as they learn to solve problems and cope with the chllenges in life like hunger, fatigue, cold, hot, boredom, lonliness, how to sleep, how to get mom to carry you everywhere, not enough candy eating times, not enough electronic times, too much room cleaning, too much church, too much being quiet, not enough staying up late, not enough jumping on the bed, etc.


Thank you for not sleeping enough.  Thank you for giving up "me" time for a lot of  "we" time.  Thank you for carrying my grandchildren around, plus their diaper bag full of "what ifs" plus their stroller and every other large heavy item that comes with a wee little child.  Thank you for keeping your cool when pushed to the brink when it's  not even an hour into the day.  Thank you for chasing after the wild little "run aways" and always bringing them back home with you.  Thank you for cleaning up the mess, and thank you for letting the mess stand while there is creation afoot. Thank you for learning all that you can about being a good mother and doing your best and then doing your best again tomorrow  and even the tomorrow after that.  Thank you for loving God and teaching your children the same

Erica:  I can't even imagine how hard it is to be a military wife with young children.  You've been through some tough times this go-around with Daniel gone and I'm very proud of you.  You are capable and strong.  Keep up the good work.  Thank you for never giving up.    I know there won't be anyone at your house to spoil you on Mother's Day, but I am very thankful for you and I love you. I pray for blessings upon your head. You mean the world to your children and family and your efforts do not go unnoticed. You are a great example of someone who goes to great lengths to meet the needs of others.  Caleb and I had a little conversation and he told me some of  the things that you do for him that he's thankful for:  "She takes care of me.  She makes me dinner.  She cleans the messes up.  She goes to get food at the grocery store.  She drives for us."  This is what he said you've taught him:   "Be nice to my friends.  Don't lie.  Clean up my plate.  Be responsible for my own actions.  Jesus is always with us.  Jesus always loves us with whatever mistakes we make."  This is a wonderful tribute to you, a very dedicated and loving mother.

Mallory: You've had 3 babies and lived 4 places in just six years.  I'm inspired by your positive and eternal perspective.  Always teaching, always patient,  even when your active little sweeties are giving you a run for your money, you meet your challenges beautifully.  Annabelle said she loves that you play with her a lot and give her kisses.  Remember the cute thing she said a while ago?  "Tomorrow I'm going to not whine or cry.  I'm going to be perfect like you."  You are a wonderful role model.  Thank you for blessing the lives of our family.

Happy Birthday Brandon II

Well, I'm on year 2 of my blog.  That means I've written a birthday blog for every child.  While subsequent birthday posts will not be as comprehensive, I still love my children and still want to say Happy Birthday.

Since last year's post, Brandon up and moved across the country, taking his darling family with him, but he's in a good situation and I'm thankful for their blessings.  Brandon's good to call whenever he's left at home without Mallory, and it's not midnight in Georgia.  He's still sweet and kind and faithful and happy.  He does a mom's heart good.  Here are some pictures of his cuteness from when he was my baby.

Brandon and Daniel at Grandma Stoker's house.
I was just telling Mallory that moms need to be realistic about when their baby boys
need a haircut.  Clearly I was one of those moms.

Brandon and my "forms" activity.  He would sit on the bathroom
sink and I would paint him into a "Form."  Thurndercats
was his favorite.  This is not a Thundercat.

Brandon and Shannon Albright on 4th of July

Always a hero

Brandon sledding with Aaron

Nathan, Aaron and Brandon

:)

Awesome soccer pic in his Lincoln rec league reversable t-shirt.  Genius.

Brandon loving his siblings.  Baby crying?  No worries.
Eliza and Jacob

Happy Birthday!

Who doesn't love Dare Graduation?  Okay, who doesn't participate in Dare graduation?

Brandon got to Stone Mountain long before we did.

Chubby Bunny

Gun show

Cross Country glory days

Stoker Brothers' EFY duet
Eatin' Goober Peas

Spiffed up for the dance

Love of his life.
Fantastic Mallory

Best. Day. Ever.

PS  We put together a little Star Wars Birthday Video.  If you'd like to see it, go to this link:
http://youtu.be/9hYL65BSJxQ