JANUARY

We survived.
This January was remarkably blue-skied and bright.
And our second annual attempt at jazzing up the month was remarkably successful. Nevertheless, we thought we should celebrate the end.

How does one celebrate the end of a long, cold January?
Well, with...

and

With

and with

!

That's right. A SNOW PRINCESS PARTY with a darling, dressed-up group of Lucy's local little girl friends. They twirled and whirled, danced and decorated. Some of the activities (over which I'd been stewing for a few days) were a hit...
Dowels wrapped with ribbon and topped with a colorful "snowball" = big hit.Lucy discussing party with Mom: "Mom, know what's even more fun than friends?"
Mom: "What?"
Lucy: "Twirling with friends and wands."Note to self: Make ALL wands PINK. (I thought the blue and white ones were cute...)

...some would have worked better with an older group...
I had visions of a fun story telling time...you know, one person starts the story, the next adds on, the last one finishes. But...the girls were too little. I should have just come with a fun story to tell or read.

Critiques aside, at least one little party-goer settled into bed after the big day with a smile (and a wand and a crown):

And it made her mom smile.

And those smiles were before the hour and a half tired-Mom-tells-tired-Lucy-to-go-back-to-bed-a-gazillion-times-and-tired-upset-Lucy-wakes-up-tired-sick-Spencer-and-Mom-looses-her-cool-and-ends-up-with-two-tired-crying-children scene that played out after bedtime.

So at the end of the day, all I really have to say is: It was a fun party, but...Here's to February!

Joy

We had reason to run some errands outside this evening. Spencer was bundled up, bouncing on my hip. Lucy was bundled up, bounding over the snowy sidewalk ahead of me. Occasionally, she stopped to wait for us slow pokes. Then, when we got close she'd take off again.
Seeing his sister suddenly dart into action was apparently the most hilarious thing in Spencer's life. I wish I could upload his laughs for you.

Is there anything that brings as much joy as seeing your children interact happily?

No wonder Heavenly Father wants us to love one another!!

Resolved

Spencer's determined to throw down as many push-ups as his dad.

I tried to tell him there's no pressure, but...boys will be boys.

"It Finds an Echo in My Soul"

All it takes is a tootsie pop. Lucy is a quiet, contented little traveler when she has a tootsie pop.
And so our hour in the car this afternoon was calm. I was grateful. It had been a long morning. I was tired. I was tempted to rest my head on Spencer's car seat and close my eyes. But Lucy, between licks, requested "the spider song." So Wes and I sang to her...
There's a web like a spider's web made of silver light and shadow hung by the moon in my room at night...
It was nice to sing. Lucy looked out the window while she licked and listened. We sang the silly, soothing duet several times. And then we sang another - a simple duet I'd been meaning to teach Wes for months.
The Lord is my Shepherd, I walk at his side. In sunlight and darkness he serves as my guide...
We were home before I knew it.
And my spirit felt lighter. And I marveled at the sweet magic of music.

If you would comfort me, sing me a lullaby
If you would win my heart, sing me a love song
If you would mourn me and bring me to God, sing me a requiem,
Sing me to heaven
(Jane Griner)

Are there certain songs that bring you comfort on difficult days?
My favorites differ from time to time. But tonight, and often, these ones win:

They're sounding from the Ipod right now, like old friends, bringing a flood of peace and hope. Striking a deep chord.

My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth’s lamentation
I hear the sweet though far off hymn
That hails a new creation:
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear the music ringing;
It finds an echo in my soul—
How can I keep from singing?

What though my joys and comforts die?
The Lord my Savior liveth;
What though the darkness gather round!
Songs in the night He giveth:
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that refuge clinging;
Since Christ is Lord of Heav’n and earth,
How can I keep from singing?

I lift mine eyes; the cloud grows thin;
I see the blue above it;
And day by day this pathway smoothes
Since first I learned to love it:
The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
A fountain ever springing:
All things are mine since I am His—
How can I keep from singing?
(Robert Lowry)

(Did you skip over those lyrics because they were long? Tisk, tisk! Go back!)

It comes down to this:
Give Lucy a tootsie pop. Give me a song.

Hopeful

What did you think?

I thought it was a pretty speech.

"Hope and Virtue" are key to a brighter future.
I agree.

For Lucy

At the beginning of the month, "in Number One" (as you refer to Sis. Armond's Sunbeam class that meets in classroom 1 of our church building), you made a crown covered in sparkly stars. It was your first week in Primary and you came home shining.


You insisted on wearing your crown the following week.

It stayed on your head for the duration of Sacrament meeting where you sat quietly and patiently beside me.
It stayed on your head as you took Daddy's hand and walked carefully to Sharing Time.
I saw it still sitting on your head when I slipped into the back of the Primary room to peak at you. Your teacher hadn't arrived. None of your little friends were there yet. Just you. Looking tiny on the front row. I forced myself to leave. After church a handful of ward members related how reverently you sat, how attentively you listened, how excited you were when someone mentioned Joseph Smith. They said you raised your hand and told about how "we have a little book about him! And sometimes we read it!"

I wished I had stayed.

This week, you approached Primary like an old pro. When we reached the doors, you looked up at me and said, "I'll be all right in there." That was apparently my cue to leave, so I let you walk in alone. And grown up.

Now, let's make sure to note, my shining little sunbeam, that you occasionally make less than shining choices.

Last night, I heard your daddy growling in the bathroom. It was restrained growling, even kind, considering the way you had tossed gobs and gobs of toilet paper into the toilet, plugging it, and turning it into a cascading fountain.
"Maybe we should stir it," I heard you suggest from your father's side.
"Go to the kitchen, please, Lucy," the grizzly bear managed.
In the kitchen, I tried to explain that the "broken toilet" was a big problem and that Mom and Dad did not want you to put so much toilet paper in.
"I locked the door," you confessed.
But you felt pretty repentant after listening to the plunging and flushing and frustration that sounded from the bathroom all last evening. Today as you headed in to go potty, you poked your head around the corner to reassure me, "I won't put in lots of paper. And I won't lock the door."

And you don't need to lock the door most of the time. Usually, your actions warrant my eager stamp of approval.

A few nights ago we were getting our babies ready for bed. I was feeding Spencer in your room, you were getting your dolly situated in the swing. After a few minutes you asked, "Know what my baby is?"
"What?" I asked.
You inclined you head toward the picture hanging above your bed. "Child of God," you whispered soberly.
The words I was about to utter caught in my throat so I just nodded soberly back.
And then you climbed into bed, still looking at the picture. "Look at that one! And that one!" you were saying, pointing to the various children in the painting. When you pointed to the child in the center, I asked, "Do you know who that one kind of reminds me of?"
"Who?"
"You."
Lucy stared at the picture as I continued. "If Jesus were here right now, do you think He'd look at you in a loving way and put His hands softly on your cheeks?"
Silence.
And then your hushed response, "I wish He could."

Tall as you get, my little sunbeam, there are some things I hope you never grow out of.

In the Jungle, the Mighty Jungle

The Lion...

Who doesn't sleep at night.

The Best of 2008: Playing Dolls

The Best of 2008: Memorizing

Sometime mid summer, when Wes and I finally acknowledged that Lucy was REALLY struggling with our nightly scripture reading sessions, we discussed and decided that maybe memorization would be a fun way to approach the scriptures together.

And it has been fun. And it has been meaningful. Our scripture for August was D&C 109:8.

We recited it as we painted and cleaned-out, built, sewed, rearranged, folded and hung. It was our nesting scripture. Then in September we exchanged nesting for new-babying. And I loved hearing Lucy quote Isaiah 40:31. It was, to my tired, teary, postpartum self, a needed reminder that:

"It’s easy to feel overwhelmed. With all the pressures and demands on our time and the stress we face each day, it’s little wonder we get tired...

I do, however, have a testimony of the renewing power of the gospel of Jesus Christ. The prophet Isaiah proclaimed that the Lord “giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength.” When I feel tired, I remember the words of the Prophet Joseph Smith:
“Shall we not go on in so great a cause?"...

Remember that the Lord often chooses “the weak things of the world” to accomplish His purposes....

To all who are weary, let the comforting words of the Savior console you: “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Let us rely on that promise. The power of God can infuse our spirits and bodies with energy and vigor. I urge you to seek this blessing from the Lord. Draw near to Him, and He will draw near to you." (Joseph B. Wirthlin)

Our little family is learning that memorizing scriptures, tresuring up the words of life, is a wonderful way to draw near to the Savior.

The Best of 2008: Relaxing

TV Time

Twirling (own)

Twirling (Mom's)

Small-town Sleepover

Grandma's Touch

Bums up

Diddle Diddle Dumpling

Visions of Sugar Plums

This Christmastide: Final Part

In the lane, snow is glistenin'!

Thanks for the sledding, Grandpa!

This Christmastide: Part IV

Santa brought a handful of candy canes on Christmas morning, but this was the one I wanted to eat right up...

(And apparently he wanted to eat me right up too. I let him suck on my chin for two point four seconds and ended up with a hickey that lasted about two point four weeks.)


Better watch out!

This Christmastide: Part III

Christmas Treasures

My sweet friend Rebecca made these four FABULOUS hats!! We can't wait to have a little family snow date!Wes's mom sent a handmade apron for Lucy - one of ten, made for every granddaughter. Darling? DARLING.

Our Christmas morning began with the excitement that "Santa left his hat!!!" (special things like that happen at Grandma Packer's house!)... ...and lasted all day. Lucy played with, read, tried on, and watched every present as it was opened. It was a day full of treasures!

The very best kind of treasures!