Easter weekend fun

Last weekend was Clara's "spring holiday," a one-day break since their spring break was taken away after fifteen snow days this year. We decided to spend the night in D.C. and enjoy the zoo and the temple.

Don't look so excited, kids.

Actually, they were very excited to see the animals. Clara wanted to see the pandas, but the line was so long we just couldn't justify the wait.

 We did enjoy the apes, although I think my favorite was the tortoise. I just love that they've been around for so long and yet are so gosh darn slow. We decided that while the National Zoo is a nice visit since it's free admission (you do pay for parking), having to walk over a mile and a half to get back to the car after walking up and down the hilly zoo made for a pretty tiring day.

On Saturday, I told Clara that I was going to take pictures of her and Robbie in front of the temple to frame pics for their rooms. (Here's more info on LDS temples if you're interested.) Those who cooperated earned a treat. Whatever it takes, folks.

 Robbie looks like he could sit there forever, doesn't he? Appearances can be deceiving.

Ah, that's more like it.

 Okay, Robbie look at the temple. Or the flowers. Just face away from me and pretend you're pondering on the eternities.

 Good, now smile and look as cute as possible. Perfect.

 Hey, we stepped back in time!

 Oh phew, 2014 again. My darling daughter, please don't grow up anymore. You are looking way too grown-up and beautiful.

 Don't smile, Robbie. Don't do it. Resist the urge to be adorable!

 We ended our Saturday with a very brief indoor egg hunt.

 Pretty lame, but the kids didn't seem to mind that every egg only had three options of candy.

It's all about the anticipation anyway, right?

Sunday was great with neighbors for brunch, inspiring messages during church, and the missionaries and other folks for dinner (read: I overscheduled and it was actually crazy busy but we made it and felt at the end of the day that our "offering" was accepted of the Lord). Of course, these events don't compare to the glorious gift of a risen Savior. Thank Heaven for Easter!

Each a different tree

One of my inherent weaknesses is that I compare myself to others and worry about what they think of me. This has caused me grief on innumerable occasions as I've spoiled an otherwise happy time with thoughts of "I'm never going to be as good as . . ." or "How does she do . . . ?" or "What if they think . . . ?" I am gradually getting better, but I still struggle against it.

I enjoy metaphors and found one that really resonated with me. I'm sure it's been thought of before, but my thoughts are as follows.

Last year, my sister gave me the book A Joyful Mother of Children by Linda Eyre. I confess I was reluctant to read it because I thought, Aack, another book by an amazing woman with nine children who will make me feel even more inadequate than I already do. (But I did still appreciate the gift!) However, I did glean some valuable insights from it, one of which is as follows (bolds are my additions):

"Another thing that I learn more surely as my children grow and mature is that babies come with very distinct and clear personalities. You don't make them who they are. You just help them refine what they already are. Happily, the absurd notion that children are like clay and can be molded into whatever parents want them to be has changed to the reality that they are seedlings, needing water and light and fertilizer to become who they were meant to be."

As a parent, I can't force my child to be someone he or she isn't, just as I wouldn't dream of changing an oak into a red maple. This concept doesn't just apply to children. We are each a different kind of tree. Granted, parents and children have similar characteristics, and we all have the commonality of being of one "genus." However, we are each unique. We each serve a different purpose.

(Monticello 2014)

Some trees are tall, imposing, and grand, like the California redwoods. Others are small and blend in completely their surroundings. Some trees, like the dogwood, look gorgeous in one season and rather plain the rest of the time. Other trees, like the evergreens, are appreciated most in the welcome contrast they provide in the dark winter months. Some thrive in unfriendly environments as they've had to adapt to their difficult climates and terrain. Some trees look gangly or unkempt on the outside but are strong inwardly, whereas others that look beautiful and symmetrical (I'm thinking Bradford pear trees) are structurally weak and split easily in any adverse storm. Some are very useful, like the lumber used from those boring tall pine trees, but aren't particularly eye-catching. Apple and pear trees provide fabulous fruit but are without the romantic grace of the willow.

(Monet's garden, Giverny France, 2001)

The metaphors are easy to draw here. One tree is not less important than another. Who would want to look at a whole forest full of one kind of tree? Even though I love cherry blossoms, I would grow very tired of them if they were all I saw every day. The combination of short and tall, narrow and wide, twisted and straight provide the beauty and diversity that we enjoy and take for granted. I might not look as gorgeous as the mother who's had five children and looks like she's newly married, but I can be grateful for the trunk I have that keeps me strong. I might not be as useful as a cedar or as elegant as a birch, but I can be the best version of the tree I am. I can shelter my little saplings under my branches, reach my branches as high as they can go, and dig my roots deep in the earth to provide shade for some weary fellow sojourner on earth. How boring would life be if everyone had the same interests and talents and abilities, if everyone looked the same and talked the same?

I was talking with a friend one day about this and we both agreed that it's easy to unconsciously take the bits of each of the women we admire and create a mega-person to which we compare ourselves, a person who doesn't even exist. How laughable--and frankly, ugly--would a tree be that "had it all": the height of the Hyperion (the tallest living tree), the blossoms of a redbud, the bark of a beech, the leaves of a maple, the width of the baobab, and the branches of the sequoia? Eesh.

If I want to be the best tree that only I can be (still puzzling on what variety I am), I must remember that while my Father in Heaven made each tree different, He gave us each the same needs--light, water, and nourishment.

Then spake Jesus again unto them, saying, I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life. (John 8:12)

"But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life." (John 4:14)

But if ye will nourish the word, yea, nourish the tree as it beginneth to grow, by your faith with great diligence, and with patience, looking forward to the fruit thereof, it shall take root; and behold it shall be a tree springing up unto everlasting life. (Alma 32:41)

He is the one who can make me into the tree I am meant to be.

 I hope to spend out my life like the tree in Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree, who gives her whole life up in love and sacrifice. We might not feel like our branches are good enough, but they are good enough for a bird to rest on or a child to swing from. We might not be covered in lights at Rockefeller Center,

 but we can live our whole lives reaching up to the true source of all Light and peace. And, as the giving tree bemoans the fact that she is nothing more than a stump at the end of the book, I can say like the tree does,

"'Well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting. Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest.' And the boy did. And the tree was happy."

We are each needed and valued at every season in our lives with each of our unique contributions. The best way to be happy with ourselves is to love the kind of tree we are. 

Monticello

A highlight of the Weilers' visit was a trip to Monticello, just outside of Charlottesville. Having never visited his home before, I enjoyed learning about Thomas Jefferson's life while at Monticello and seeing all his gadgets. A very fascinating and inspiring, if not controversial, man.

 The weather is finally spring-like here, and the weather was pretty perfect. Our tour guide pointed out that now we can say we've looked through the windows that are on the back of a nickel (I honestly never realized that that was Monticello).

 How did I get so lucky to marry this nice (and handsome) guy?

 A fun surprise was that we were there for the celebration of Jefferson's 271st birthday. We were treated to a fife and drum presentation as well as to birthday cake. Sweet!

 The grounds were gorgeous. We could have spent quite a bit more time here (and inside as well) if time had permitted. It will be more to look forward to on the next visit.

Hooray for daffodils and for wonderful memories.

A visit from the folks

Last week we had a wonderful visit from Michael's parents, his younger brother, Joseph (age 21, recently returned from a mission to Rosario, Argentina), and his youngest sister, Melody (age 15). It  was so great having them all here.
 
 Robbie took to Joseph so quickly it was surprising. Robbie pretty much wanted to be with Joseph whenever he was around, and he especially enjoyed it when Joseph would acquiesce after he asked, "Kuck? Kuck?" (truck) and take him out to sit in the cab of their truck.

 He also liked Melody and went to her easily, which is also surprising considering his reluctance to hang out with the young women at church. She's just got a way (with Clara, too).

 At the park we enjoyed a windy picnic of PBJ and strawberries as well as a memorable but unfortunately (or fortunately) unphotographed moment where Grandpa nearly fell into the river saving a runaway napkin.

 How lucky am I to love being with my mother-in-law.

 Everyone was so nice and considerate to Clara. I wish I could say that she always responded in kind, but they were patient and charitable even when she wasn't her best self. Sigh. There were some good moments as well, though, which I need to focus on.

 I've been thinking a lot about what I want in the backyard in terms of play equipment. I saw this "slacker line" and thought that it would be a fun and unusual toy. It's basically a tight-rope with a guide line that you hang on to until you can balance without it.

 Clara really likes it and Robbie wants to use it but isn't quite there yet. I didn't realize how much it would look like caution tape, but oh well.

Michael's dad graciously helped him in the rain putting in holes for some light poles on the back patio. Apparently it was good bonding time, but I confess it didn't look very fun to me.

This time of year

Lately I've been thinking about what we were doing at this time last year and the year before. 

 Two years ago this week, I was down in Atlanta visiting my family for spring break--Hyrum and Clara and I drove down (I was pregnant with Robbie.) I loved my time with Bryan and Emily in Atlanta.

Last year at this time, Hyrum and Clara were out hunting for Easter eggs. Gosh I miss that kid. Boy. Man. Missionary.

 Last year at this time, the innards of our house looked like this.

We could picture the patio, but there was still lots and lots of clay.

 And this year at this time, we are finally enjoying some beautiful days outside, eating dinner on the screened-in porch for the past three nights and playing in the yard . . . or eating weeds.

 Wagons are much more fun when you have someone along for the ride.

Hooray for April! 

Proud to be a woman

This past weekend, I had the opportunity to watch a broadcast from Salt Lake for all the girls and women of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints ages eight and up. It was a late night for Clara, and I wasn't thrilled about keeping her up late after a late night the night before. However, I am so grateful that we went and felt the sisterhood of everyone there. After watching inspiring messages and videos testifying of Christ and our worth as daughters, sisters, and women at every season and stage of life, I have been thinking about the role of a woman.

(Me and my big sister Heather, circa 1988)

Growing up as the youngest with five older brothers and my sister being eleven years older, I sometimes resented being a girl. I wasn't ever really a tomboy, but I did wish that I could do some things that boys could do. Men have more muscle; they are (typically) more logical; they are (usually) more decisive; they don't have the body pressures that women have; they can lose fat more quickly; they can sing for longer into their older years than women.

(In the innocence of my youth I wished I could walk around without a shirt on like my brothers.)

I also have been annoyed by myself on many occasions. (Michael has come to understand that sometimes I cry and I am not exactly sure even why I am crying, but I nearly always feel better after I do.) I bemoan the focus on the body that women have or the expectations that our society places on women. I resent the cattyness that women can share at times. And while I'd love to have regular cycles so that I can conceive (hopefully again) in a predictable way, I have also wished that we didn't have to undergo that uncomfortable and sometimes miserable monthly occurrence for much of our lives.

And yet, I am proud to be a woman. I am thankful for my femininity. Even though women each share those "girly" traits in differing concentrations, each girl born to earth has those qualities that make her unique from a man. And while not every woman experiences all aspects of their potential on Earth (wife and mother, for example), they will have that promise in the next life. Even as I type it, I feel the Holy Ghost confirming to me the power and beauty of our differences. The Family: A Proclamation to the World declares "Gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose." I know that I was a woman before I came to earth and I will be one after I die. How awesome is that!

(Even at age six, Clara knows she is awesome.)

The weaknesses of each gender are there to help draw us closer to Christ. Just as a weakness of the stereotypical male might be to be insensitive to the needs of others, a weakness of a woman might be to be too worried about what others think of her. These aren't sins; they are merely inherent "gifts" that force us to come to Him as we recognize our need for His help in our efforts to overcome our shortcomings. Like the Savior says in the Book of Mormon to the prophet Ether,

And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.

 In the Church, worthy males hold the priesthood, but both men and women can partake of its power. I am thankful for this understanding and feel in no way less or unequal or below a man. The principle of the yin and yang from Chinese philosophy also sheds light on the topic. From Wikipedia I read:

Yin and yang can be thought of as complementary (instead of opposing) forces interacting to form a dynamic system in which the whole is greater than the parts. Everything has both yin and yang aspects, (for instance shadow cannot exist without light). Either of the two major aspects may manifest more strongly in a particular object, depending on the criterion of the observation.

 What a beautiful description of man and woman. Truly, we are so different and yet so important and powerful together. It is just as foolish to say that a woman doesn't need a man to be complete as to say that a man doesn't need a woman to be complete. Both genders are unique in their own purposes and missions, and their combined potential and power is limitless.

(circa 1990)

 (Christmas 2013)

And so, after this rambling, I wish to thank the women in my life who have influenced me. For my mother, my mother-in-law, my sister, my sisters-in-law, and my friends, each woman has taught me something about myself. I am deeply indebted to the men in my life--particularly my father and my husband--who have treated me, my mother, and all women with love and respect. I hope my children--of both genders--understand, respect, and rejoice in their divine differences that can enrich and strengthen each other. I want to help the young women in my ward understand their enormous potential for good and great influence as they stand for truth and righteousness in a decaying world. I bear testimony that the plan our Father in Heaven has for us is a perfect one. While we are not perfect, He loves us perfectly. And we can become the best women we can be through the enabling power of Christ's Atonement. 

A special visitor

So much for my "bevy of posts" that I warned would be coming at the end of March. Life has definitely sped up of late.

We were thrilled to have Michael's younger brother, David, come visit us for a day or so last week. During a very busy week in D.C., he took the time to travel over to these parts to hang out. 

 It started snowing when he arrived, but that didn't stop him from driving up into the Shenandoah Mountains for a run. (Those probably doesn't surprise those of you who know David.) That evening, we enjoyed some time in the thankfully-shallow snow.

Of course, there was some friendly snowball throwing (although at a tree, not each other).

Clara asked David to help her with her homework. He kindly obliged, and Clara loved it. So did we.

Thanks again, David, and for Char for sparing him! Hope to see you all again soon.

Before and after

A few weeks ago I decided to undergo my once every two or three year hair straightening drama.

 After blow drying.

After straightening.

All in all it took about 2 hours. Not terrible, but when it only lasts a day or two, definitely not worth it to do often. I didn't realize how long my hair had gotten so I got a few inches cut off later that week.

Weekend fun

This past weekend was a busy and fun one.

Friday afternoon after an assessment that we all participated in for a program we are beginning with Clara soon (more on that later), Clara and I had a mommy daughter date to enjoy a middle school production of Beauty and the Beast, Jr.

 It was a cute production, but frankly, eighty percent of the fun is in the anticipation. Clara would tell me every day last week, "Friday we're going to Beauty and the Beast, Jr, right, Mama?" She did a good job sitting in the folding seats (up until this year, literally, those types of chairs were scary for her and she wouldn't sit back in them).

Clara told me as we waited, "Thank you for inviting me to the play, Mama." Blow me over with a feather; boy, that filled me with gratitude.

A very small sixth-grade boy played Gaston but hammed it up well.  I was nervous about the scary wolf scene, but they had cleverly adapted it to have foxes instead, who danced to the music as Belle's father would cry out, "What does the fox say?"

While Michael was at work Saturday morning, we took advantage of a large cardboard box and made a house. They're the best. Another special quote: Clara told me as I was cutting out windows, "This is the best morning ever!! I love you love you love you!"

 One of my dreams is to ride bikes as a family. Coming from me, who am not a good biker, this is a big deal. I've just admired how Michael's family has used biking as a way to have a family activity that everyone can do. So Michael and I finally bought bikes, and a fabulous friend is letting us borrow their trailer for Robbie.

We have been working for quite a while on how to help Clara ride and participate until she can learn to balance and feel comfortable on a bike (we've tried lots of things), and the bike shop let us borrow a tag-along to see how we liked it. I think we'll get one, although there are disadvantages (it doesn't teach her balance, she doesn't have to pedal, and she doesn't learn to negotiate going down hills or turns, etc.). However, it was great to be able to do something that we all could participate in. We'll see how it goes. The current major downside is that our hilly neighborhood doesn't lend itself to biking with kids, so my supportive husband had to take half an hour to strap the trailer on top of the Subaru, the two bikes on the back on the bike rack, and the tag-along in the trunk. Phew.

Robbie tolerates being strapped in as long as we're moving, preferably very quickly.

We enjoyed the sun and are going to enjoy another potential snow storm this week. Come what may and love it.

St. Pat's

Being proud of my Irish heritage (okay, so it's three greats back, but still), I thought I'd celebrate the day very authentically.

 Ah, nothing like a warm spring day to enjoy a cold green drink in the backyard, just like the Irish.

 The freshly fallen snow (snow day #15 this year) caused us to sing a jaunty tune and pull up our green striped socks as we slid down the front yard hill and scraped off the driveway.

 This brave lass showed her true colors by going down the hill all by herself. (She even went down face first.)

 All the Irish babbies make green play-doh on the special day, of course.

This guy might only be 1/32 Irish, but he's got the grin of a true leprechaun.

Positive and negative

{Disclaimer: One of my yearly goals is to blog three times a week. I only have blogged once this month, so please excuse the bevy of potentially lame posts to be forthcoming.}

Mornings around here are often pretty rough. I think they are for most mothers trying to get their children on the bus or to school on time. Add Clara's challenges and we frequently have high levels of stress before the clock even says 7:45am. 

After some not good days last week, I informed Clara that I wouldn't be nagging her anymore. She already has two alarms, and I would remind her one other time, but then I wouldn't continue to remind her to do every step of her morning routine (are you dressed? have you made your bed yet?, come downstairs, shoes and socks!, quick grab some bites to eat!, hurry get your coat on, the bus is coming!!!!, etc. etc. etc.). If she missed the bus, she'd either pay me $5 to take her to school, and then when she ran out of money (which would be very quickly), she'd have to stay home and do chores all day without music, books, or shows, etc. On the reverse side, however, I would be giving her points (we call them dots on her dot chart) for every time she made good choices and would be earning prizes, etc.

Well, we had some not so pretty days where I took Clara to school last week and I ended up in tears. And I realized after talking with her fabulous special ed teacher that perhaps she isn't quite there yet to have full responsibility and that I need to praise her for every little step of the day. I do that already but I am upping the ante and giving her a dot for practically every single good choice she makes. I worry that  she will never do something because it's the right thing to do but because she expects a reward, but I have decided that I want to create a good habit and that it's okay right now, especially on her maturity and understanding levels.

I also added an alarm on her bathroom clock and on my cell phone, giving a total of 4 alarms throughout the morning to remind her to kick it in gear. Yes, it's a lot, but I'd rather have the alarm be the reminder instead of me. (When we gave her an alarm clock in the morning a couple of years ago, it was so helpful to have a neutral object as the "nag;" it also teaches personal responsibility--I hope--and is a skill she can keep as an adult.)

So we've been doling out the dots like crazy and Clara is eating it up and loving all the praise. I also had her re-make her morning routine chart (we've made so many of these throughout the years!). She really enjoys and responds well to reverse psychology. For example, I tell her, "No! You cannot make your  bed. That would be responsible and make you feel good and we just cannot have that. You must be lazy and do nothing and live at home the rest of your life." And she'll yell, "No!" and then go and gleefully complete the task.

Along those same lines, I made a "natural man" morning routine chart (a.k.a. the opposite of what she should do) and she made her real chart. I also wrote down the chores she'd be doing if she stayed home, as well as the rewards she'd get when she earned a certain number of dots.

Mine (devil's advocate):
1. Stay in bed.
2. Leave covers on the floor.
3. Never talk to Heavenly Father.
4. Leave PJs on floor.
5. Stay upstairs. Read on toilet forever. (She seriously sits there for like 20 minutes reading)

Clara's:
1. Get dressed.
2. Make bed.
3. Say prayers.
4. Get PJ's in drawer.
5. Go down to breakfast.

Jobs if Clara misses the bus (just a few ideas I had off the top of my head):
1. Clean bathroom floor by hand.
2. Wash windows.
3. Dust stairs.
4. Fold laundry--match socks.

Rewards for Clara being self-motivated:
- Dot per step (on routine) she does without being reminded.
- Dot when she gets out of shower without being prompted.
- Dot when she packs her bookbag.

10 dots = prize from treasure box (little dinky toys, gum, etc,)
50 dots = trip to SweetBee (frozen yogurt)
100 dots = Rapunzel doll (that she's been wanting for ages)

Now getting her to reference the chart is another skill, but she really knows what to do anyway. I've been very proud of her these past few days and recognize that she actually makes dozens of good choices every day; it's just so easy to focus on the negative. So many wonderful things I am learning.

Frozen, the Book of Mormon, and Other Random Thoughts

I haven't really been in much of a picture-taking mood of late or felt a huge need to share something, hence the recent lack of posts. However, for journaling's sake, I wanted to write a few lines about what's going on over in these parts.

1. FOURTEEN SNOW DAYS AND COUNTING . . . We have had lots of snow and ice and delays and no school. I am happy to say that I am getting better at being more flexible when these throw off my routines. I realize that I have no control over it, the days will be made up, and I might as well try to live in the present and enjoy it. Robbie loves the snow, and Clara went down our little front yard hill sledding all by herself this week. I remind myself that winter means not having to worry about summer clothes and bathing suits and all that nonsense.

2. FROZEN MUSIC IN MY HEAD . . . Since I purchased the vocals from the soundtrack, Clara has listened to these songs a hundred times. Seriously--they are often in my head in the morning and when I go to sleep at night. I have thought about the lyrics quite a bit and realize that while I do sometimes wish I could "let it go"--be it my responsibilities, my worries, whatever--I recognize, like Elsa eventually does, that running away (even mentally) doesn't change the situation. This morning wasn't my proudest mommy moment during some very frustrating interchanges with an extremely defiant--at the time--daughter. I felt dark and angry and so darn mad at myself and my weaknesses and inadequacies.

I asked her forgiveness via a hastily scribbled note, and she so readily forgave me and thought it was great. I am thankful for her forgiving nature. I feel unworthy of God's love (I know those thoughts are from the adversary), but I just keep pressing forward, mostly sluggishly, sometimes unwillingly, hoping that someday I'll be better than I am. Unlike the "Fixer-Upper" song states, though, I have faith that we CAN really change through the grace of our Savior, Jesus Christ. While I rarely feel I will ever be good enough, I am trying to remind myself that Heavenly Father's love isn't contingent upon how I feel about myself. It's just there. (Repeat mantra hourly as needed.)

3. COMPUTER TROUBLES . . . Like car troubles, these just are so annoying. Dozens of video clips since 2012 have disappeared from Picasa. I have uninstalled and reinstalled it, etc. I unknowingly downloaded Re-markit malware and am unable to uninstall it despite following many instructions online. iTunes wasn't working and I uninstalled it only to be unable to reinstall it again. Blah blah blah.

4. CHARITY FOR OTHERS . . . Michael was called into the bishopric again this past week. I am happy that he can serve in this way again, but I confess I've really enjoyed sitting together the past eight months since our move. Since Robbie prefers him to me when he has the two of us to pick from, Michael's presence is sorely missed. I am praying for those sitting around us to have charity as they hear and see two children, one of whom is twenty months and the other who frequently acts like she's three. (Can I just have a sign that says, "Don't judge us; she has autism"?)

5. READ-A-THON . . . The young women and young men in our ward are reading the Book of Mormon in thirty days as a March Madness challenge. I have read the Book of Mormon many times but never in this way before. I am appreciating the broad stroke perspective with an increased testimony of its truthfulness and the reality that there is no way that a farm boy from New York with a minimal education could have written such a beautiful and powerful book which testifies of Jesus Christ and also of the truthfulness of the Bible. (Get a free copy here.)

6. BIKING . . . We purchased bikes for Michael and I this week. I've wanted us to get bikes for a while now as it's an activity that every age can do. We got an adaptive trike for Clara (I'll post a pic another day), which she was very scared to ride, but with the incentive of a treat at the end, we borrowed our friend's bike trailer and briefly rode around Grottoes this evening. We were very proud of her. Now, the fact that she had to pee so badly at the end of the ride and we didn't have a bathroom handy so I blocked the view and let her pee in the grass in said friend's backyard (yes, Emily, I am sorry!!) and she peed on my shoe and jeans and all over her pants is just par for the course. But on a positive note, I was very proud of her being willing to be flexible to use the bathroom in an unusual place.

Well, I am sorry that this post is a little on the negative side. I guess the bad days help us appreciate the brighter days. The sun'll come out tomorrow . . . right?