Coming Home is one of life's best moments. I believe it will be one of the next life's best moments also. So this blog is dedicated to what I view as the best moments of life.
So here I am, living the dream, no babies to wake me up at night (that actually is a dream), no diapers to change, plenty of time to myself. I can go out to lunch if I want to. I clean and it stays that way. I leave my fragile items on low tables, and no one hardly ever spills milk. But my life can feel lacking at times. I just need a little...excitement? energy? enthusiasm? chaos? Yes, all of those things. And last week I got them. They came in the shape of 2 little bodies. One has been growing and learning for 2 years and the other for 5 months.
They came on the scene with their loudness and hugginess and smiliness and never ending need to stimulate or be stimulated, and it was just the ticket. The best part of babies is that they open your eyes to the magic around you or the not magic as the case may be. What is not magic is me sitting at the computer or me dusting or folding laundry...all that quiet, productive (boring) stuff. What is magic is jumping on the trampoline, climbing the tree house ladder, looking for turtles, finding 2 lizards on the wall, one brown and one green, rolling tennis balls, drawing H's on the driveway with chalk, reading "The Day Jimmy's Boa ate the wash" 8 times a day, pretending to ride the horses and swing with the playhouse family, giving the dinosaurs a bath, racing the hot wheels, sliding on the slide at the park, playing hide and seek with the toy animals and eating Doritos and fruit snacks. To think, I could have been doing those things all along. Netflix Shmetflix.
Heck yes, I do. This little family had moved to California, and I was needing a picture for my mind when I thought about their doings and goings on. So thanks to my travel agent/pilot/oldest son for getting me there and back, and my husband and youngest for holding down the fort, and my seminary teacher friend for teaching my 9th graders, I went for a Grandma trip to sunny, but brisk, Sacramento, CA.
Of course I didn't take a coat to speak of because I like to travel light, and I was traveling from GA to CA so how much cold could I encounter? I confidently walked out into the February afternoon and realized I needed to have a little more respect for the west coast winter. Luckily, I didn't get stuck in Salt Lake City or Denver and just wore lots of layers.
It was great to be with these people again. I won't be worrying about their living conditions. They live with Alexa's parents in a beautiful place in the country. They are within walking distance from llamas, cows, horses, and 2 adorable donkeys, and are carefully guarded by Ammon, the dog.
When I arrived Thursday afternoon, I joined the group of loving adults that adore little Miss Isla. She read books and took a bath and helped with dinner and walked everywhere with her confident little baby swagger. I went to bed at 8:00, trying to hold onto my Eastern Time Zone biorhythm.
Of course I awoke at 4:00am and waited for morning to come. Luckily, I'm reading "Wizard Heir" by Chima and didn't mind time alone with nothing to do but be quiet. And then we had the best day. It started with delicious crepes made by the Stoker clan.
We drove into "Old Town Sacramento" and walked along the river. We ate birthday lunch at "Joe's Crab Shack"and taste-tested taffy at "Candy Heaven" (I like passion fruit the best.)
We found DSW and took birthday boy shoe shopping. Apparently he was looking a little too comfortable in his Nike's for his presentations at school.
Alexa then introduced me to Macarons from Ginger Elizabeth Chocolates. That may have been a mistake. I can't stop thinking about them.
Next, Jacob took us on a tour of his school.
Then home, dinner, Dutch Blitz and me in bed again at 8:00.
Saturday morning I got a little more Isla time and then off I went. Such a great visit. Thanks, Stokers and Rodgersons. I'll be back.
So as one would expect, I've spent a fair amount of time involved in overseeing my children's homework. It's safe to say that it ranks right up there with swimming lessons and band booster meetings on the enjoyment scale. No offense to swim teachers, but after dragging 9 kids to what they perceived as their certain soggy death and watching from the side as they clung to the pool's edge and their teacher's necks to avoid putting their face in the lethal water. I just don't have it in me anymore. Yes, I did it, and yes they can all swim. But it was painful. Band booster meetings speak for themselves, amiright?
The way I see it, in 3.5 short years I will never have to help with homework again. We've come so far already. According to my supremely accurate calculations I have called words for 300 spelling test practices, I have been the whip-cracker and supply supplier for 24 dioramas, I have quizzed from hundreds of study guides on American History, Georgia State History, West Virginia State History, Kansas History, Nebraska History and World History. I have practiced English vocabulary, Spanish vocabulary and Latin Vocabulary. I have explained math skills up until about 5th grade when my abilities do not equal the task at hand. (Sorry, progeny.) So what I am trying to say is my enthusiasm may be waning a bit.
A couple of Saturdays ago, my 15 year old, who's excitement for homework matches if not surpasses
mine in the negative energy level, warned me that he would be working on a paper and would need my help. We blocked out the appropriate amount of time-10 hours for 500-700 words. This included snacks and other avoidance activities, time for whining and complaining and throwing oneself on the floor (both of us, but not simultaneously) and went to work. The only way to start an unpleasant assignment is with a grumpy attitude which we both amply provided. He started by telling me how stupid the assignment and how mean his teacher was. I driveled on with my "The only way out of it is through it," "You can do hard things," No matter what you do in life, you'll need to be able to write," "This paper won't write itself." Then we got down to business.
After informing me of how much his English teacher hated her students and wanted them to suffer, he explained the assignment. At that moment I realized how much his English teacher loved her students and tried to make the assignment relevant and enjoyable. He was to choose a "Life Law" from a quote by which he could live. Then he was to write about an experience from his life where he learned about or demonstrated that "Life Law."
His chosen quote was, "Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime." The experience he wrote about was camping. He related how afraid he was on his first camp out. He relied solely on his dad for survival. Slowly he learned how to put up his own tent, build a fire and cook. Eventually he went on a boy scout camp out without his dad and became one of the helpers instead of just a helpee.
What began as an intense, lets-get-this-over-with, Saturday to-do, evolved into an enjoyable sharing of feelings, experiences and tips for using more words to get your count up. I started with a high, heavy hand, but as I remembered the pressure of writing to a minimum and maximum word standard on a predetermined topic with a deadline, I empathized and softened and disclosed my dubious essay writing beginnings. He smiled when I suggested using "will not" instead of "won't." I recanted when I remembered that English teachers spot that old trick a mile away. On his own he thought of using "less fast" instead of "slower" (that's my boy). I impressed him with my knowledge of the word counting ability on the computer. We laughed together when we discussed the difficulty of writing a proper conclusion. I confessed that I once talked a class-mate into concluding with, "I can't really think of a conclusion for this essay so 'the end." My friend received a less than stellar grade with a red pen comment by the teacher, and I have to live with the guilt into eternity.
And then it was over. Two hours down and we had a big fat check on our list. There were 8 hours of Saturday left, and I realized that this homework assignment was some of the best bonding that had happened since there were unwatched episodes of "The Flash" on Netflix.
So I guess these homework years need to be recognized for what they are; opportunities for me to work shoulder to shoulder with my children; a chance to help with what I know, commiserate with what I don't know; develop my googlizing skills, and laugh a little bit about the struggles of being human. I recognize that my best little children friends have mostly gone out the door and won't it be funny when I'm on facebook in 3.5 years saying, "I'm bored. I wish I had someone at my house that needed help with some homework."
My children know that my heart's desire is for them to provide a program on Christmas Eve. When we have a large group it's a large program. This Christmas we had a small group, but bless their hearts, they still came through for me. We started the evening with this show stopper: "We Are the Pirates Who Don't Do Anything"
2014 brought a new element to the Christmas program... our first ever poetry smash. We shook the dice to determine our topic assignments and then hurried to create a poem or story within the 15 minute time allotment. Here are the results:
Gabe: topic-favorite snack
Cheese
Cheese is nice
It has the color of rice
What's so good about cheese?
It's better than bees
So you can eat and do wii
It is a snack
Good thing it's not tack
So don't act wacked
Or they'll come back
Rebecca: topic-childhood book
A Kid's meal
Hop pop hop on pop
Make it stop make it stop
How can Mr. Brown always be goin to town?
How can Yurtle the Turtle have the crown?
There is something about the time taken to read.
A distraction before bed, it fulfills a need.
There is something soothing about a once upon a time.
There is a nourishment about the power of rhyme.
That cannot be found anywhere than a book.
A spice of this and something sweet to cook.
To make words have taste and make hearts heal.
These books have made such mindful meals
Andrew: topic-pets
If I had a pet rock
If I had a pet rock
Extraordinary it would be
I'd never have to silence it
or take it out to pee
A pet rock can be
Quite a useful thing
You can use it as a paperweight
Or throw it with a sling
A rock is quite magnificent
I really hope you see
If you had a pet rock
Happier you would be
Dad: topic-favorite smell
Oh the smells one can smell
As I walk in the house in the morning the smells are apparent
The sizzling of bacon is heard and the aroma as it cooks fills the air
The smell of eggs with onions, cheese and ham can also be hinted at
The smell of the crisp morning air after an extensive rain storm are apparent
As I glide to the kitchen to greet the woman of my dreams
and draw to the clean smell of her skin,
and the fragrance of her freshly washed hair.
The fragrance is botanical-and intoxicating.
Mom: topic-If you could teach any class, what would it be?
Warmth
I would like to teach a class on warmth-you know, gushing, sending the love, welcoming warmly, scattering sunshine, shining the light...
One of the cruelest behaviors is ignoring. If that is true one of the most generous acts is recognition. Understanding the power of a behavior that doesn't take much effort should motivate us to use our power to lift and strengthen all within our influence.
So let's remember those names-call them out with a smile. Wave enthusiastically even if we find out we don't actually know that person upon closer examination. Be a hugger. We all need more hugs than we know. Express gratitude frequently and specifically. Throw out compliments like they're going out of style-of course they never will.
As an add-on, I must include the latest installment of the Eliza-potamus series...."Emmaline-apotamus" as created and performed by Aaron, Andrew and Rebecca:
Merry
Christmas from the Stokers! It’s 2015, and all is well. Jesus Christ is our
Savior. Our family has grown to 28 beautiful souls. We’re happily living in a
free country practicing religion according to the dictates of our own
conscience, solving problems one day at a time, and counting our blessings.
Paul works
for Acella Labs. This means he has a considerable commute to Alpharetta, Monday
through Thursday, but he has listened to an amazing number of books on tape. He
has also been working on his drawing skills (mostly during church) and of course
his tennis serve (not during church). Paul has added something new to his
portfolio this year. He’s been singing in the church choir (just for me). He
doesn’t have experience singing harmony but has excellent pitch. As long as
there’s someone sitting close to him in his section (tenor), he’s definitely an
asset. He still makes delicious rolls. This is actually the best food our
family has to offer, so the Stokers are usually asked to provide rolls when
it’s food assignment time. Yay for me.
Since
September, I have only had 1 child living at home. I remember when I first
started this motherhood journey, I would dream about the things I would do when
I got my life back. Now, I wonder what life I was talking about. There isn’t
really anything I enjoy more than being with my children. Of course they don’t
cry as much as they used to, but to tell the truth, it can be excruciatingly
quiet around here. Thankfully, I still teach seminary. I substitute in the
schools about once a month. That’s all I need to help me maintain an enormous
respect for the intense responsibility teachers have. Substituting doesn’t pay
much, but sometimes a sweet student will draw me a picture or give me a hug and
that makes it worth it. Other times… it’s my service to the community.
Miss Rebecca
went to college this year. I’ve almost recovered from the loss. She’s happy
that she’s now 18. Being only 17 for the first few months of the school year
gave her friends a lot to tease her about. “What are you doing at this meeting,
Rebecca? It’s for adults.” But now she can vote and take herself to the doctor.
She loves everything about BYU, except Calculus which she doesn’t have to worry
about anymore (she dropped it), and American Heritage which she won’t have to
worry about when the semester ends. She takes good care of her mother and sends
me pictures and posts on Facebook and calls me a couple of times a week to tell
me stories. She cooks food, does laundry and cleans and grocery shops. She’s a
great little adult.
Gabe is in 9th
grade. He says he has senioritis. It could be a long 4 years for this guy, but
I’m proud of him. He comes home from school every day and does his homework and
practices his instrument. He doesn’t like it, but he does it. I’ll call that a
win. Gabe’s in my seminary class this year. Someone asked him how he likes it.
He said, “It’s okay.” In Gabe-speak that’s very high praise indeed. He has some
victories to report. He beat his Perplexus puzzle. He won the Strikers Wii
game, and he can play “Joy to the World” on the piano.
The other
children are scattered all around the country doing good things:
Daniel,
Erica, Caleb and Landon live in St. Louis, not far from Erica’s family. Daniel
flies for Delta and the USAF Reserves.
Brandon,
Mallory, Annabelle, Josh, Isaac, and Eli live in Portland. Brandon still works
for and loves Nike.
Nathan,
Ariane and brand-new Caden live in Houston. Ariane works as a Physical
Therapist part-time and Nathan graduates in May when he’s hoping to get into a
pediatrics residency program.
Aaron,
Clarissa and Lucy still live in Las Vegas with one more year down in Dental
school.
Jacob, Alexa
and Isla live in Sacramento, very near Alexa’s parents, as in upstairs. Jacob
started Medical school in August.
Eliza,
Joseph, Hyrum and 2 month-old Emmaline are in their 3rd year of Dental
school in Omaha.
This awesome little Texan was born on November 4, 2015. His Grammy Black and Aunt Alanna and cousin Jocelyn met him first. They had a wonderful time playing and rocking and taking pictures and celebrating the happiness.
On Tuesday of this week, (Thanksgiving week) Gabe and I headed to Houston to give thanks. It was a nice 12 hour drive. We drove through Auburn, Alabama, "War Eagle" or is that "Roll Tide?"This is actually the week of the Iron Bowl. so there was a lot of football energy reverberating onto the highway as we passed.
Travelling on I-10, the only highway to travel on in the winter, is fun for a California girl. I think to myself, "Hey look, it's Mobile, Alabama. Wow, I'm in Mississippi. Louisiana, I wonder if there are gators in that swamp? Baton Rouge, Who ever thought I'd be driving through Baton Rouge?" And on and on until I drive into Houston, TX where I remember that "Everything's bigger in TX." Mostly, there's a lot of flat land, but I'm sure it's awesome flat land. And then we landed at a special place. The place where Caden lives with his fantastic mommy and daddy.
My day of driving was rewarded with some snuggling time with little guy. Another reward was to watch my son with his son. Such joy and pride and adoring and happiness. I watched him watch his wife and baby and saw that his heart was all tied up in that beautiful sight.
This little family reminded me how thankful I am that God sent me 9 babies so they could bless me as small children and then bless me again as they start their own families. The love just doesn't end. It grows and grows.
On Wednesday Paul flew in to join the Caden party. Grandpa thought Caden would enjoy The Hunger Games so he took us all to what I believe was Caden's first movie. He was a great date. He just hung out with his mom and dad quietly throughout the whole show. Then we ate Mexican food because Wed. is 1/2 price fajita night. We didn't feed it to the baby directly, but indirectly we contributed to what I'm sure will be a long life of salsa consumption.
Ariane and Nathan have a million skills; cooking, crafts, academics, sports, music... but one of the most enviable to me is that they are very organized. I learned a lot about running a household from them. The white plastic grocery bags are stored in a clorox disinfectant wipes container. When the container is full, that's all the bags you get. No saving millions of bags that explode out of the food closet every time it's opened. The brown plastic bags are folded into little school footballs. You know what I mean, the triangles. They are stored neatly in the baby's drawer at the ready for stinky diaper disposal. Baby supplies and diapers are stored in decorative containers over the changing table. The baby station supplies that need to be in the living room are stored in pockets in the rocking chair.
When it was time to decorate for Christmas, 2 boxes were brought out. The tree was trimmed and the nativities and crafty Christmas decorations were displayed in all of 30 minutes. When I thought of the 2 days it took to get my Christmas decoration act together I almost cried.
One might think that cooking Thanksgiving dinner in an apartment with 6 people, including a new mom and baby, might be overwhelming. That problem was solved by purchasing rotisserie chickens that frankly did not disappoint. We still had potatoes, gravy, (delicious from a mix) cranberry fluff, rolls, (one of Paul's super powers) Stovetop stuffing, and Marie Callender's razzleberry pie. And of course, Gabe's favorite part of the meal--cranberry juice and Sprite. It was delicious, and I'm definitely rethinking the turkey tradition.
Pi on the pie. Okay, they're a little nerdy at this house.
Friday was our outing day. Nathan is almost finished with medical school and we had never seen where he has spent the last 3.5 years. It was fun to tour a medical center from the perspective of a student mom as opposed to a patient mom---sooo much less stressful. Maybe I should have been more stressed for my student son, but he's almost done so yay. I did get a little queasy at some of the informative posters such as identifying an abnormal nodule on a thyroid and how to properly perform a tracheotomy. But Paul thought it was very cool.
In the afternoon we decided to take Caden to the USS Texas so he could tour a battle ship and learn about being in the navy in World War I and II. Once again, he loved his outing. His dad took him up and down the stairs and the sea breeze blew and he was a champ. Ariane and Nathan secured us a tour guide even though there weren't supposed to be any official tours on that day. Paul asked a lot of questions and was so excited to find out more that I couldn't help but learn something, like the sailors were in battle station for 52 days. That meant no one left their gun room for almost 2 months. I won't ever forget that fact, and I'm thankful for their service.
Ben Affleck's bunk in Pearl Harbor.
Friday night was time to relax. We watched the ever popular Muppet Christmas Carol and drank wassail.I The script actually stayed close to the book plus there was some great music. Okay, I'm not a fan of Miss Piggy, but she kept a low profile so the movie was enjoyable and very Christmasy, and I slaved with the baby while we watched :)
So now we're ready for the Christmas season where we celebrate the birth of our Savior, that through him all mankind may be saved and families will be together forever. I'm thankful for each dear person in my family. I'm thankful for their imperfections that help me see my imperfections. I'm thankful for their gifts that bless my life and make me proud. Not only is it a privilege to know and love them, but because of loving them, I am changing into a new and better person. I'm thankful that they have married wonderful spouses and have homes full of love and devotion. I'm blessed to have each little new one that has expanded my heart and filled the world with more love. All this, because of God's love for each of us, his children, and the precious gift of His Son, our Redeemer.
When I was a little girl, spending time at Grandma Miller's, one of the skills she would attempt to teach me was crocheting. I dreamed of the day I would be able to crochet my own doilies for my own table with my own vase of flowers on top.
We started learning with yarn. Grandma would create the slip knot, and I would begin my chain stitch. Some were too tight, some were too loose, but no matter, I was doing it! Then she showed me how to go back and make double stitches and triple stitches. I held the yarn in my fingers just so and went in and out with my crochet hook. Somehow, my project didn't always look like Grandma's. Did it really matter which hole I put my hook into? One loop seemed as good as any so if I lost this one I'd use that one. When Grandma came back to check on my work she would identify the problem areas and suggest I pull it out to the point of the error and then start again. Noooo! The agony of wasted work was more than I could bear. I was all for just moving on. I justified that "no one would notice" and continued to the end. When my work was finished, and I really considered the pattern created by my time spent, I had to admit, my mistakes were definitely noticeable and obviously interrupted the pattern I was trying to achieve. The project was not acceptable. Failing to right my wrongs was not acceptable. I continued to try, but since repentance was hard I tried perfection. Well, as anyone who tries to live a perfect life knows, I was always frustrated because I was never perfect. Besides that, this was all taking way too long. I wanted to be good at crocheting much sooner than was happening, so I quit. That's right, I quit before practice made crocheting easy, and the need for the re-do became much less frequent. and the desire for a quality outcome became greater than my aversion to starting over. I learned as much as my impatience would allow, but not as much I could have had I perservered and humility and desire.
Fast forward to Wednesday night. My friend is in charge of achievement days for the 8-11 year old girls at church. She wanted to teach them how to crochet a trim on a burp cloth for newborns. She called on all women who were free during the hour to help give the girls the one-on-one help they needed. I was not unrealistic about how much help I could be, but I was free that hour and thanks to Grandma, it was not as if I'd never crocheted in my life.
In came the little girls, full of enthusiasm and confidence. The needles and thread were distributed. Okay, I did hyperventilate a little when I saw it was thread, not yarn, but I remembered my doily dream and got excited. I listened to the instructions and then realized that I needed to be shown again. I was the person that was actually supposed to be helping, but no. "Could you show that to me one more time? Could you turn a little bit so I know which hand you're using?" After monopolizing the instructor's time and attention for as long as I could, I understood enough to help my adorable 10 year old apprentice at least get started.
I was pleased to see that she was ready to go. Her face was full of determination and desire and hope. I showed her how to make the slip knot. (I had at least retained that.) She picked up the burp cloth and the crochet hook and the thread. Well that was definitely too much to hold at once. I decided I could help her best if I held the burp cloth so she could conquer needle and thread. As one could predict for a first time experience there was lots of dropping the loop, failed attempts at finding the right hole, and tension problems, At one point, my wisdom from many years of experience suggested that we throw the entire project across the room and never pick up a crochet needle again and have a nice doughnut, but cute 10 yr. old never wavered. Eyes fixed on her task she continued on.
After 45 minutes she observed, "It's getting easier." It was true, each inch of progress yielded more accuracy and less disappointment. I was amazed at the determined strength of this little girl. As I looked around the room I saw other little girls with the same fixed resolution to succeed as they concentrated and pressed forward. It occurred to me that I was in the presence of greatness. This idea was confirmed when cute girl shared that every day she makes a list of her goals and puts them on a poster by her bed.
So just learn a little from my young friends. We must not give up. We must be patient with ourselves and allow our abilities to catch up with our dreams through work and repetition and commitment, and know that our future is in good hands, hands that don't give up, that are patient and persevering, and focused and hopeful and ready to serve.
