Easter!

My best friend in the world when I was 4, Wess Chambers, my Easter Dress, and a baby chicken that my Dad took to a farm the next day.  A great Easter combination.

When I was a little girl, Easter was a most wonderful of days.  Not quite Christmas, but definitely an event worth losing sleep over. We kicked off the weekend with egg coloring.  I was slightly disappointed that my eggs never looked exactly like those on the box.  I loved the fizzing color tablets, not so much the smell of the vinegar water.  There were a couple of things that kept me from attaining the perfectly, even, color infused, beauty of the advertised display. Sometimes the eggs were actually a little cracked, and to get the best color I had to wait fooorrrrrreeeeeevvvvvvveeeeeeerrrrr, and that was hard.  I tried to use the little white wax crayon to show my creativity and I wrote carefully, but the handwriting looked ...youthful.  That was fine then, but it kind of looks the same now.  Bless my heart.

Next came the sleepless night.  The Easter Bunny was coming!!!  Unlike Santa, I always knew the Easter Bunny was my mom, but surprisingly that didn't help me sleep.  I guess I was all about the loot.  Sunday morning, I would hunt for my basket filled with cellophane grass, jelly beans, white gloves and maybe some socks, and a hollow chocolate bunny...delightful.  Then I would dress in my new dress and go to church which for some reason seemed really long on Easter Sunday.  Easter dinner was usually ham and hopefully shared with people we loved.

As much as I loved the Easter Bunny, baskets, and new dresses, as I grew up I didn't love how I cared more about those things than the most joyous of celebrations and sacred of holidays.  I decided to help my kids out and try and downplay the Easter Bunny and shine the light on the true meaning of Easter.  That has been a lofty and challenging goal.  I think I've been successful in making the bunny traditions less significant, but I'm not sure I have been successful in making the religious traditions more meaningful.

Of course I colored eggs with my kids.  It's always fun to sit around the table covered with newspapers fishing the eggs out of the cups with the bent wire egg fisher. My boys seemed to be pretty efficient in getting color on a large number of eggs in a short amount of time.  They didn't sweat the difference in our eggs and the eggs on the package, but the eggs must have looked beautiful because one year a young son enthusiastically bit into the hard boiled egg shell and all.  The look on his face showed confusion as to why everyone thinks Easter eggs are so great and a little betrayal at the fact that he had just had a very unpleasant experience.


On Saturday we hunted eggs, sometimes hard boiled colored, sometimes plastic candy-filled.  We enjoyed community hunts with friends, but there was always the stress of little ones not finding any eggs, because big ones found a lot, but there was usually a big one willing to fend for the little one so all was well.

Baby Brandon

Brandon again.  Sorry everyone else.

Daniel, Aaron, Eliza, Nathan, Brandon, and Jacob in Nebraska

An intense Eliza and adoring Brandon.  I'm loving the cornocopia Easter Basket.

Awww, Jacob

Brother buddies: Aaron and Nathan

Kansas.  Andrew, Eliza, Rebecca and Aaron.  Note the ever glamorous Wal-Mart Easter egg basket/bag

 Sunday brought a variety of efforts to focus on the Savior.  The Easter Bunny didn't really come to our house, although I did go to Target on the day after Easter and pick up some chocolate bunnies for 50% off. There were Spring dresses that might have been worn on Easter, but were purchased for Spring. My problem is that I love Easter dresses, but when I was young I thought more about my dress at church than church so for my weaknesses my children have lived the consequences.

A couple of things we have done to make the day special are: 1.  Resurrection Rolls--marshmallows dipped in butter and cinnamon and wrapped in Pillsbury Crescent rolls.  The marshmallows disappear when baking leaving the "tomb"  empty.  2.  Plastic eggs containing symbols of Easter.  As the eggs are opened the story is told.  3. Stations with special "guests" (Mary Magdalene, Peter...)  telling the story of Easter from their perspective.   Having a special lesson or video depicting the Easter story. There is still room for improvement, but I guess since there's still time for improvement we'll keep thinking about it. Here are some ideas others have used:
http://ldsliving.com/story/64165-preparing-for-easter-ideas-for-celebrating
http://ldsliving.com/story/72031-fab-five-fun-easter-ideas-for-teaching-kids-about-jesus

And we have Easter dinner.  Paul grew up with similar traditions to mine.  The main differences are that he received solid chocolate rabbits instead of hollow, and his dinner consisted of ham and lemon jello salad and mine of ham and ambrosia salad.  So for the Paul Stoker family Easter dinner we have ham and whatever fruit salad, and Paul's rolls and hopefully it's shared with people we love.

The Stoker clan:  Jean, John, Paul, Don, Don (Senior) and Cathy.

Science is ...umm...important.

... and we have an...um...close? no... amicable? no... distant? closer...respectfully disinterested and slightly resentful but grateful relationship.  I mean, I'm thankful for the internet and cameras and medicine and airplanes and all, but would I like to talk about molecules?  pass.  One of the worst days of my life was one summer when I looked up into the beautiful blue sky and told my dad that I would love to bounce on the fluffy clouds.  He replied that you can't bounce on clouds because they're made of water molecules and look like fog when you reach them.  Fog?  No bouncing?  The nerve! He broke my heart. Another bad day was when I asked my dad where wind comes from.  He proceeded to explain that the warm air rises and the cold air...zzzzzzzzzzzz.  That's not magical at all.  I've taken some science classes in my day, but certainly not more than I needed to graduate.  I even married a chemist to balance out the gene pool for my posterity, but that doesn't mean I have to like it or talk about it, right?

So on to motherhood.  I have made little to no contributions to my children's scientific education.  Thanks to their dad, one would hardly notice that they hail from a science delinquent mothered home.  And after the last couple of years, if you count my bumped up science fair attendance hours, I could be labelled as downright supportive.

Ah, science fair.  This is an event that all potential mothers, I'm talking any female 3 yrs. old and older, need to start planning for your future.  Sooner than you know, your darling will come home to you and say, "What should I do for science fair?  I need to have my outline by Friday."  When you hear this you will want to fly to Fiji, but thanks to my warning you will not, because you have prepared.  You have written every science question you've ever had in your life in your journal on a special page.  "Does red clay come out of clothes better with a pre-soak?  Does rock music affect plant growth?  Does Orville Redenbacher popcorn really yield more pops?"   Only your questions will be better, because you like to think about science.  And you can happily make suggestions for your children to pique their interest.  It will be a rewarding and fascinating journey.  A lot like mine.

If you need some ideas to get started here are some projects that Stoker children have submitted.  My first born studied propulsion.

The next year he and his partner used dry ice to make rootbeer.  It was more of a demonstration than a study and did not score as well with the judges, but it was a hit with the kids.

Subsequent projects have involved crystals, a tornado demonstrated in connected pop bottles, reflex, depression and weather, ice, weight of air, home-made soap, evaporation of salt water, and  electromagnetic force.

In our current school the science fair participants are older, and I found that I didn't hardly need to get involved at all.  My daughter and her partner, who are both musicians, worked together on a project last year that studied the effect of wind speed on the frequency of sound.  It sounded cool and most of the work was done at Rebecca's friend's house and Rebecca doesn't whine about homework so the whole process didn't even cause a blip on my radar.  (That sounded scientific, right?)  We went to the event, (we had to pick up the poster after all) and found that the project had received a first place ribbon and would be moving on to the county level.  Those little girls ended up going all the way to state.

The judges suggested doing the study again and maybe asking Georgia Tech to help.  Then  each of the girls went to a different high school and Hannah convinced Rebecca that Rebecca should continue on with the study.  Little Rebecca spent time on the phone talking to professors at Georgia Tech, but they didn't think she needed to use their lab.  So her dad hooked up the air compressor, (last year they used a leaf blower) and she ran the test again.  By the way, the hypothesis is that the wind effects frequency of sound and changes the pitch as to make music altered on a windy day.  Once again she received positive data and put it together on the required tri-fold.  Once again she competed all the way to the state level.  She received a 3rd place ribbon in her division and can I say that I was very proud?

As one would imagine, this high level scence fair scene is a little out of my comfort zone but it was educational.  For one thing, picture 200 high school kids in a crowded room for one hour with nothing to do but watch Bill Nye the Science guy reruns.  I though maybe someone would bust out a rebellion, or start throwing things or yelling (that's kind of what I wanted to do) but no.  This is regional science fair, people.  The students did not get here because they are stupid or rowdy.  They were doing their homework.

These students to the left were having a little physics convo.

The girls on the right were working on their English

Then we went to the State Science Fair in Athens, GA, home of the dawgs.  Since Rebecca and I had spent 2 days there last year, we had seen the historical buildings, shopped the hip downtown and toured campus a bit. This time we dropped off the project, ran a few errands, grabbed lunch and avoided the parents and teachers of the 600+ students who had infiltrated Athens. Then I dropped little girl off for her interviews.  She was not stressed at all, and if she's not worried I don't have to worry, unless I want to.  Five and a half hrs. later I picked her up and we headed home for the night.

The only picture I have of Friday.
"Oh, I forgot to take your picture.  Hold still."

 Saturday we drove back for the public showing and awards.  Last year I talked to a lot of students about their research.  This year I went around looking at the boards and saw that there is a new method that uses power point. The student can produce headings and tables and fit them to the size they need.  They take it to a print world or whatever and have them print it glossy or matte on a big poster that is just taped to the tri-fold board.  You're welcome.

Anyway, I worry a lot about children and education and if they are applying themselves enough.  After walking the state science fair aisles, I'm happy to report that there are some committed, capable, and confident students out there who are thinking about big ideas and using their talents to make good things happen.  

As for my daughter and her future in science, she said, "Okay.  I've experienced that.  I don't need to do it again.   It's music all the way."  Of course I don't blame her, but there goes our dream of the "Hannah-Rebecca Postulate" printed in college text-books everywhere.  And by the way, a piano tuner came by and said, "You're right you know.  It does make a difference."  

The End

What scientists do when they're not talking about their project.  Science homework.

The grand event

H2O
(What kind of a blogger would I be if I didn't take a picture of the refreshments?)

Fathers

I know Father's Day is in June, and I could wait to post this, but my heart is full of  thankfulness for fathers today.  In church this morning a young father took his beautiful baby girl in his arms to give her a name and a blessing.  This is an ordinance that is done in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints soon after a baby is born.  He was assisted by his father and his wife's father.  It was a wonderful sight to be sure, but the words he spoke under inspiration to this little girl reached into my soul and filled it with love.  I don't remember everything he said, but some of the blessings she was given were that she would have a love for beauty and have joy in her life.  I was struck by his love for this little girl and I knew that her Heavenly Father   loved her even more, and these were blessings that He wanted for her and all His children.  By seeing this father's love for his child I felt God's love for me.

The next meeting I went to today placed me behind another cute young family who's dad was holding his little toddler with pig tails, big brown eyes and a little bit of breakfast still on her pretty little face.  He kissed her and spoke sweetly to her and tenderly wiped her mouth and brushed her bangs away from her eyes.  That was a blessed little girl.  I'm pretty sure the angels were smiling down on that dad today and it will be very easy for this little one to understand the love of God, because of the love she already feels at home.

My husband, the father of my 9 children has been out of town a lot lately.  He came home last night.  Everyone felt  safer having him in his place at home.  I felt myself relax knowing that our protector and provider was here to care for us.  This morning before church my 13 yr. old was in the room making conversation with his dad.  "So how are you?"  Paul answered, "Fine."  and because it was 30 minutes until we needed to leave for church he added, "You need to eat breakfast."  My son's response was gold, "I want to be with you, Dad.  Have you eaten yet?"  This little boy is so happy to have his Daddy home.  So for all the dads, thank you for loving your children.  There is great power in your love.   Every little thing you do for your family matters.  Like Steven Covey says, "The secret to the big is the small."

Happy Birthday Isaac!

Isaac Dickson Stoker is 1 yr. old today.  It's fun that he was born on pi day, and his mom graduated in math-ed , and his dad likes math, and Isaac Newton was a physicist which uses math, and in a few years I'll ask Isaac Stoker if he likes math.

 We haven't been able to spend much time together since he lives in Portland, OR and I live in Atlanta, GA.  But the last time I saw him, he enjoyed eating.  He slept a bit.  He was pretty brave about letting us hold him, and he was cute.  For more up-to-date information I called Mr's Isaac's mom.

Isaac has a relationship with music.  He always stops to listen if there is music playing.  He conducts his mom's singing.  He took his first steps to music and we're pretty sure he will be a great musician someday.  That or he'll really like listening to other really great musicians.

He's quite vocal and at the moment  screams to communicate.  If all goes well he will learn a few more options, but for now his family can usually tell what he wants.  Like that one family night when they were running back and forth across the room while they sang a song.  When it was time to calm down to get ready for the lesson they sang a reverent song.  Isaac started screaming to share that singnig and sitting was definitely not as fun as singing and running..

Isaac's favorite toy is the toilet.  I mean what's not to like?  It has water for sloshing.  It makes things disappear.  In fact most of the toys Isaac has dropped in the toilet have disappeared, for a while at least.  Then the toilet stops working well and mom and dad have to get involved.  That always spoils his fun.

Isaac is independent and doesn't like to be restrained.  That makes church, shopping, and any activity with boundaries less fun for the whole family with Isaac trying to break free and the family trying to keep him contained...funny though.  He likes to feed himself, no insists on it.  Mommy always thickens his applesauce with oatmeal since he wouldn't hear of a spoon.  Thick applesauce doesn't slip through his fingers as much as thin applesauce. When Mom attempts to offer him a food he doesn't care for, he takes it and drops it on the floor.  When he's done eating-same tactic-off the highchair tray it goes.

The other night on skype we watched Isaac take some steps.  We were so proud.  He loves walking.  Now he can carry things while he moves.  In fact, he can carry really big things and the bigger the better.   Hopefully, we'll keep skyping and he'll know I'm his grandma.  Isaac and I will get to know eachother a little better this summer when he comes to visit.  Until then, I just love him because he's mine.

Happy Birthday Josh

Joshua Paul Stoker was born March 12, 2010.  Here's a fun fact:  Josh has a 2nd cousin who is also named Joshua, and both of their Dad's name is Brandon, and both of them have a Grandpa named Paul.  What are the odds, right?

He was born in Iowa, but his parents soon moved to Washington DC.  Josh is gifted in cause and effect.  When he was 1 his parents thought it was luck that he could turn on the tv with the remote and make calls with the phone.  After a lot of lucky breaks they began to suspect he knew exactly what he was doing. 

Not crying while getting his haircut.
 Just learning the properties of the clippers.

 Not only is it fun to push buttons on remotes, but it's also fun to push buttons on sisters.  We were seeing the sights in DC and Annabelle and Josh were in the double stroller.  Josh was conveniently in the back.  He would pull her hair, she would scream, and he would laugh gleefully.  He would pull her hair, she would scream and he would laugh gleefully.  It just never got old.

That's not to say he doesn't love his sister.  He adores her and does everything and says everything she does.    Luckily, she's a great role model.

I don't think he's really a fan of loud strangers.  Unfortunately, we (his grandparent) are loud strangers.  The first year we had Thanksgiving at his house he was visibly stressed every time we came into his house.  Over time he has come to recognize us, but he prefers his great life with his Mom, Dad, sister and brother to our kissy, huggy, laughy, "who the heck are these people?" family get togethers.  We will continue to force ourselves on him, because we love him, and he's so darn funny and cute.

Last year Rebecca and I and Josh and his family were visiting the Naval Academy museum.  We watched a short video on the bombing of Pearl Harbor.  When the footage of the explosions was shown, we heard a little 2 yr. old Josh voice say, "Uh oh."  

One day  I asked him if he would like grapes or apples with his lunch.  He confidently replied "Cookies."  A few months ago, I was skyping with Josh and Annabelle in the morning.  It was breakfast time.  When I asked him what he was going to have for breakfast his response was "Candy."  Brandon said Josh approached him and said, "Dad, I have a question.  Can I have a piece of candy (pause) or not?"  I actually feel a kinship with Josh because of this.  I also would rather have a cookie at lunch than any other food.  

Josh's nursery leader asked his mom if he's always happy.  His mom realized that yes, he always is.  Thanks, Josh, for teaching me to always be happy.

Happy Birthday Gabe

Mr. Gabe is 13 today.  He said, "Just think, my mom's youngest child is a teenager."  And what a great teenager he is.  Gabe likes Legos and Star Wars and basketball and wii just like other guys, but one of his favorite things to do is go to the "ditches."  In the forest between the houses are ravines that are made even more exciting by people throwing their yard cuttings into them.  Gabe would come home from school and say, "I'm going to the ditches" and I'd say "Okay."  I would look out my window and see this:

Every once in a while I'd see a bit of color moving and knew he was out there, but that is about as involved as I got.  When he came in from the ditches his clothes looked like this:

I'd wash them and that would be that.  Periodically he told me of some of his feats in the ditches, "I cut my hand climbing up the side", or "There's this place that I jump," and then he started talking about climbing this tree.  "It's high", and "I have to face my fears," and "I am  climbing higher every day, but it might be dangerous if I fall."  That's when Paul said, "You'd better check on that tree."  So Gabe and I took a little trip out to the ditches, and he showed me his world.

 And I wasn't scared at all.  I was proud.  I was proud that he pushes himself.  He accepts where he is, and sets goals to reach a little higher.  I was proud that he does not quit.  The things he couldn't do yesterday he does today.  Proud that he can endure discomfort or pain to progress.  Playing in the ditches is like a ninja training ground where he is developing some very manly skills.

Gabe you are fantastic and you are on a solid road to becoming a great man.  Thank you for coming to our family.  We're all a little happier, and a lot more blessed because you're here.  xoxox