Celebrate Family

September 23rd marks the 15th Anniversary of "The Family: A Proclamation to the World". In honor of the occasion, September is a month of celebration over at Chocolate on my Cranium and We Talk of Christ.

Look for upcoming posts that celebrate my family.

Photo Credit: Jamie Jacobsen Photography From a wonderful session almost 2 years ago -- We really need updated family photos.

Mushrooms

My family and I just returned from a wonderful trip to a remote location in Southeast Alaska. We enjoyed a great time in nature with my family. It was great to spend time with my parents and siblings, and for the boys to spend time with their cousins. The boys enjoyed four-wheeler rides, so I had to encourage them on walks by seeing what we could find.

We came across this beautiful specimen of Amanita muscaria var. formosa. They are highly toxic, and this was an unusual variety -- I had spotted several of the red colored mushrooms on the trail, but this was the only yellow one I saw.
We also found some Green Elf Cups. I had never seen them before, apparently, the fruit bodies are infrequently seen. The turquoise color of the fruit and the stained wood was fantastic.
I found a wonderful resource for identifying fungus at Rogers Mushrooms.

Peony Patience

Five years ago, the summer before my husband and I got married, I purchased a peony. I've always loved the large double blooms and their sweet scent. I was so excited. I planted it in a spot where the large flowers would peak their heads up, and be visible in my living room window. I knew peonies were a little fickle, and I didn't expect it to bloom that year, or maybe even the next, but I hoped.

The following spring, I was giddy with excitement when I saw the first tenders push up from the ground. I watched them grow. More leaves pushed up, and then a flower bud. It was little, like a pea, but it grew bigger. I couldn't stand the wait, and thought for sure my little bud would turn into a beautiful flower. Then, my marble sized bud turned black and died. I think, at the time, a little part of me died with it. It provided great greenery through out the summer, but no flowers.

The next spring, again, I was very excited again, as the tenders pushed their way into the warm spring sunshine. Even more green leaves appeared. My peony's root ball was growing for sure. This year, several small pea size flower buds appeared. I walked through the neighborhood, and saw other peoples' peonies blooming. I admit, I was jealous. This time I was certain, one of my buds would turn into a flower. And just as sure as I was that one would bloom, they all turned black and died.

I began to compare my peony to all those that I would see. Why won't my peony bloom? I would ask. Why can't my peony be pretty like those ones? I began to doubt my peony. Maybe I planted it to deep? Maybe it isn't getting enough sunshine. Maybe I wasn't nurturing it appropriately. That fall, I moved my peony to another part of the garden. I added bone meal to the whole, and hoped it would like it's new home.

Last spring, as the tenders emerged I started to get excited again. I worried though that it wouldn't like its move, and it wouldn't bloom. Buds began to appear. And the buds grew. First to the size of marble, and then a golf ball. And then it happened. A beautiful, delicate flower appeared. And then too quickly, the blooms faded. I enjoyed it's beauty while it lasted.

As I sit and look at my flower filled bush, I about think about patience. I think about how things never happen in my time. I can't compare myself or my life to others. The Lord has a plan for me, and if I'm patient, if I wait with faith, I know the Lord will bless me in ways I can't imagine. I must put myself in the right spot and nourish my spirit appropriately and I will be blessed. I'm thankful everyday for the blessing I receive. I have to remember the Lord knows my desires. If they are righteous and part of the Lords plans, if I am patient, things will happen in His time.

Momma Ducks

We've been blessed with an abundance of momma ducks around our house this year.  It is especially exciting because the boys just finished a unit at daycare where they talked all about baby animals and their mommies and daddies.

Monkey and Moose spent several minutes watching a mating pair of mallards drink from our fountain in the front yard and scrounge for grubs in the garden soil.  "Mommy Daddy Ducks" they exclaimed with excitement.

A few weeks ago my dear husband happened upon a hen nesting in our compost bin.  I tried to take a picture, but scared her.  I was able to take a peek inside her nest and saw about 12 beautiful green eggs.  Having my compost bin as a nesting site has made spring clean up a little bit of a hassle, but it has been fun to sneak a peak at the momma every couple of days.  We haven't introduced her to the boys, I figure nesting is stressful enough without double trouble.    I've been really excited to see her ducklings swimming in the irrigation ditch.  I've learned that the eggs are incubated for about 30 days, so I think we might only have a week or so until they hatch.Fortunately for us, a neighbor boy knocked on our door last week to let us know that a hen mallard and her 14 ducklings were in our front yard.  He said that they had hatched the previous morning in another neighbor's yard. Momma and most of the ducklings were sunning themselves near our weigela. Six of the little ducklings were stuck in our unfinished fountain.  The water was four or five inches down from the top of the catch basin, and the baby ducks couldn't get out.  Sweet hubby brought the hose around, and quietly filled the basin, allowing the duckies to escape.  Momma and her brood stayed in the yard for several hours.Moose and Monkey enjoyed watching them.  They really wanted to touch and hold the ducklings.  We told the boys, "Stay back, you don't want to scare the ducks."  They both growled.  We had to drag them kicking and screaming back into the house.  "More ducks! More ducks!" they insisted.

Good Men

One recent Saturday afternoon, my sweet Moose asked about his great-grandmother.  He and Monkey had spent the previous night at a sleep over with his grandparents, and I'm sure that prompted the question.  "Gramma-Great" he said.  I asked him if he wanted to know about his great grandparents, and was surprised when he said, "Yes."

I started with my husband's side of the family, I told him that his "Grandma-Great" lives on the other side of town with "Grandpa-Great" and that they are his grandma's mommy and daddy.  I told him about great-grandpa who lives in Utah, and his great-grandma who lives with Heavenly Father, and that those are his grandpa's mommy and daddy.  "More" he told me. I was surprised at his attention and interest as I talked about his great-grandparents.

I continued on with my side of the family and told him about "GG", who lives in a nursing home in Washington.  I told him about when we visited her, and how excited she was to meet him, even though she didn't know who I was.  I told him about his great-grandpa who lived with Heavenly Father, that I never got to meet, because he died when my daddy, his papa, was just a boy.  I told him about his nana's mommy and daddy -- I talked about granny, who lives in Alaska.  We talked about my papa, his great-grandpa, who lives with Heavenly Father now.  I talked about how lucky I was to have such a good grandma and grandpa, and how wonderful they are and how much they loved me.  I told him how lucky he is to have such wonderful grandparents too, and how much they love him.

I shared with him my belief that his great-grandparents who aren't with us now, were with him and Monkey just before they came to live with us.   Finally, with a little sadness, I told him, "My papa was a good man."  He looked at me, and patted his chest and said, "Moose good man." 

In three sweet words, he summed up all my hopes and dreams.  As the mother of boys, I hope and pray that I can raise good men.

Learning to write again

As I've tried and tried to blog, I've become very frustrated. I have several posts that are in process, yet to be published. Why aren't they published? Because I can no longer write.
I used to write. I think that I used to write well. I used to dream of being an author. Writing children's books or short stories. I used to believe that I had a novel some where in me.

I would write for hours. I had notebooks filled with poetry -- mostly adolescent angst. I loved to journal, though I was never very consistent with it.

Now, I have a hard time putting words into sentences. I can't seem to put my thoughts down on paper. I have a couple of ideas why I can no longer write.

First, I'm out of practice. I've spent the last 10 years writing code. It's simple. It's logical. It flows. It's like a writing a recipe. This part has to come before that part. There is no transition necessary. It's all nicely put together with curly braces and semi-colons. There is no question about whether or not I need a comma. If it's not syntactically correct, it doesn't compile. It's easy, and it's not all that creative.

Second, I stopped reading. And I love to read. I love to read almost anything. I would read until the wee hours of the morning. I would read and read and I wouldn't stop, not until the last page was turned. I didn't get any sleep. So, I made myself stop reading. A couple of years ago, I started reading again. (Goodnight room. Goodnight moon. Goodnight cow jumping over the moon...) And while Goodnight Moon is an excellent book -- one of my personal favorites -- it isn't exactly stimulating for me.

I want to be a better writer. I want to encourage my boys to love reading. So, I've decided to read more. I'm going to dedicate some time to myself during the day to read and write. I'll use my blog as a test ground for my writing.

Bear with me. Hopefully, it will get better.

Teeth are not for biting

I have two wonderful two year old boys.  Each has their own strengths.  We've recently discovered that one of Monkey's strength lies in his jaws.  For the last week, he has bitten Moose at least once a night after being put to bed, as well as biting another little guy in nursery on Sunday.  I worry if that behavior continues, my Relief Society attendance will return to pre-nursery levels.  One bite on Moose's arm drew blood and the bruise still remains.

"No bite" and being sepearted from play during the day hasn't seemed to help, exept when he's caught during the lunge.  I wasn't sure what to do when the biting occurred with the door closed and the lights out.  Until my wonderful sister, who has three boys of her own, recommended the book Teeth Are Not for Biting by Elizabeth Verdick.   After I got off the phone with her, I immediately got online and reserved a copy at my local library.  The next night, after Monkey bit Moose yet again, I told him sternly, "Teeth are not for biting, teeth are for eating apples and crackers."  This, he seemed to understand. 

I picked up the book at the library this afternoon and the boys love it.  I think I've read it 8 times this evening.  The words, "Teeth are not for biting. Ouch! Biting hurts." seem to resonate with both boys.  Monkey looks with concern at an illustration of a crying girl who was bitten.  Though, Moose yells "No!" and smacks the image of the boy who did the biting. (I think we'll have to work on hitting next.)  The illustrations by Marieka Heinlen are bright and cute.

Hopefully, it will help in our home. We also picked up Tails Are Not for Pulling by the same author.  I think our family dog will appreciate it.