December 30, 2017

Oh, my good heavens!  We got rid of so much stuff today.  That's about all I can say.

You know, it always gets a lot worse before it gets better.  That's the motto of the Spring Cleaning world.  So, we started with a perfectly spotless toy room, opened all the closets, dumped everything out, tried to sort through the mess without ripping our hair out, tried to keep the children helping us without beating them, and eventually, eventually, ended with a gloriously clean set of toy closets.

Yikes!!

Greg was up before the rest of us, and he came bursting in the door with Einstein Bagels and orange juice before I even knew he was gone.

We were all a little battle weary after yesterday, but never fear, the bagels gave us some much needed encouragement, and we all got back to work.

Oh my.  This makes me want to cry!

By the time our brains and backs and fingers couldn't clean out one more bin, and by the time Julia had added more labels than we ever thought possible, and by the time I ran the vacuum over the spotless floor, we were shouting for joy, because our bag count now topped FIFTY!!

Wow.  We did it.  And we started with two full closets!  We are down to one. 

We had to load our Escalade full of trash and take it to Greg's office dumpster.  Then we came back and loaded the car again, and this time took a huge load to donate at the D.I.

"Don't look in the bags," I warned as the kids loaded them up.

I heard quite a few, "Wait, Mom? Are we getting rid of this?"  At which point I would snatch up that bag and throw it into the Escalade.

"100 bags..." I reminded them in a sing-song voice, "and we get to go to Disneyland!"

We are keeping track of our bag count on an index card full of tally marks.  I always let the kids make the little marks, and although they are hating the cleaning, they are loving adding tallies.  Everyone thought 100 bags was an insane goal, but they are all starting to think we might have a chance.   It will be a stretch, I'm sure.  We've worked out tails off for the fifty we've gotten so far.

As a reward, we loaded up all of our new laser tag guns and headed to the church.  Finally, my church key is coming in handy.  I brought headbands for everyone to wear so we'd look tough, and we played the wildest game of laser tag you've ever seen.  We were running and diving and hiding behind obstacles.  It was dark in the gym, and we were having an absolute blast!

Finally, when we were all too tired to go on, we called it quits (or maybe just Greg and I were too tired!).  The kids were begging to come back almost before we left the church.  I decided this should be our new workout regimen.  It was so much fun, that I'd hardly noticed I was running and jumping and ducking for cover for an hour.  We will absolutely do that again.  We all had a blast!

Laser Tag!  So. Much. Fun.

I LOVE playing with these wild kiddos!  They were in heaven with their new guns. 

Greg has really been wanting to try out the brand-new Popeye's Chicken that just opened up a couple of weeks ago.  But every time we drive by, the cars are lined up a mile long.  We decided that maybe the hype might be dying down by now, and if we headed over a bit early for dinner, we might not have to wait so long.

And sure enough, we were only a few cars back in the drive-through line.  The food was fine, and the kids were all happy, but I certainly wouldn't wait in line for hours to eat there again.

When you spend the day cleaning out toy closets and running items to the D.I., nobody does the laundry and the dishes.  So while the kids showered and Greg finished up some things in his workshop, I kept puttering around the house.  I listened to my book on Audible, Born a Crime, by Trevor Noah.  It's this fascinating story about his life growing up in South Africa (although he occasionally uses really rough language when he's talking about his rough life).  I just listened and did dishes, wiped counters, vacuumed, swept, folded laundry, and kept on going.

Emma came down from showering to find me cleaning.  "How are you still alive, Mom?" she asked me.

"I don't know!" I laughed.  "Tomorrow is Sunday, and after all of our hard cleaning, I would hate to wake up to a messy house with a sink full of dishes!"

When Greg came in, the kitchen and family room were spotless, the fire was going, and the kids were curled up on the couches reading their new books.  I am never stingy about buying books for Christmas. I did smile a little as I set the timer for Austin.  Some of us need a timer to tell us when we can stop reading, and some of us need a timer to tell us when we have to stop reading.  

Two days ago, I finished reading, These is My Words.  I cried at the end.  Oh, how I love that book!  I am also deep into the book, Beneath a Scarlet Sky, which I've had going for a while.  I read it tonight while Lance wriggled around in his bed.  Mom told me to read it.  And it's great.  After I said goodnight to the kids upstairs, Miles said, "Well, Mom, I just read for 130 minutes (he has to keep track for school).  I love the new book series you bought me for Christmas!"  I was super surprised, but also very proud.  I love a good reader!

I've been thinking a bit deeply about all this cleaning we've been doing.  Prior to this, I would have been perfectly proud to bring anyone into our home.  It's cleanliness was definitely just dandy.  But sometimes, the clutter is hiding behind the closet doors.  And I still wouldn't say our clutter was all that bad.  But it's gotten me thinking about how good it feels to clean out even those parts that maybe no one else will ever see.  It just feels good.

Tonight, I walked down the hall and opened the storage closet.  "Emma, come here," I softly called before she went up to bed.  I put my arm around her, and we both admired the closet.  We admired the perfectly labeled boxes and the order of the room.  "Just breathe it in," I joked.  Really, I just wanted her to feel the satisfaction of a job well done.

Maybe no one else ever looked in that closet.  But I did.  And every time I saw the disorder, I cringed a little and shut the door.  Pretty soon, I was just opening that door and tossing things in, because it was too cluttered to put things in the right place anyway.  But a clean closet promotes a clean closet. There is no way I would just toss something in there now!  And I also noticed the way I carefully hung my clothes in my master closet as I undressed tonight.  When it's clean, I want it to stay clean.

So, I've thought about that when it comes to the inside of me.  Sometimes I get so relaxed or complacent about certain parts of my "inner vessel" that I just stop even looking at it.  And maybe nobody ever sees those parts of me.  But I do.  And it feels so good to straighten up and clean up the inner parts.  Then, it makes me want to keep it that way.

I thought about this when I came down the hall past our living room where we usually gather for scriptures.  It's been a few days, I thought.  And we've only been hit and miss.   So I started to shake out that dusty, inner part of me, and think about how I can be better at reading my scriptures.  I just love the feeing of a New Year coming.

Last year, I looked so forward to all that 2017 would hold.  I set some goals and started in and rode the ups and downs of a year of my life.  I suppose I will never forget this year.  For a number or reasons.  But the biggest reason will most likely be that when I'm old, and my memory is fading, I will look back over these words, and marvel that I was once a mom with six kids doing the very best I could.  I will read it and smile, I'm sure.  And I will think about how far I've come since the year 2017.

My cute little Lancer.

December 29, 2017

I'm shaking a bit as I type the date for today.  My kids are cheering.  I'm so near the end of the year.  And I don't know if I've EVER set a New Year's Resolution and actually kept it the whole year long.  And I'm kind of sad to see it end.  What to do?!?

Emma said, "Mom!  You have to keep going!  I love your stories.  You can't stop now."

 This has been an amazing year.  This morning, I sat in my bed, long after the kids were up.  And I read back over the experience of losing my dad.  I relived each detail I wrote.  I cried and remembered.  As I wiped my tears and got up for the day, I felt such an overwhelming feeling of gratitude that I had documented that experience.

One of the last things my dad told me during his last month on earth was, Rindi, don't run faster than you have strength.  He had been faithfully following along my blog, and he often worried that I had too much on my plate.  I kind of laughed it off.  I know, Dad, I said, I know.  But I really was listening.

I've been thinking about those words today.  I usually do run faster than I have strength.  It's like I can drum up the strength to run faster than I can really handle.  And when I set my mind on a goal...watch out.

I rolled out of bed today with a really tired back.  I made pancakes for the kids, and then got cleaning.  And cleaning hard!  I have my heart set on those 100 bags.  Tired back or not.

We were just finishing up our ham sandwiches for a really late lunch when Greg came in the door from work.  He clapped his hands when he saw my progress and rallied the troops.  "Let's do this!" he shouted.

We worked like never before, clear until 6:30 when we were all ready to drop over from both fatigue and hunger.  By that time, we had completely cleaned out our storage closet, taken down our entire Christmas, labeled the heck out of everything (Julia's been the label lady), dragged bags and bags of crap out of there, and then dropped onto the couches.  We ate plain quesadillas.  Julia grilled them for us.  We were just too tired to do anything else.  But our bag count now topped thirty.

We weren't done, but I jumped in the shower so we could head to a wedding reception for some members of our ward.  I stretched in the hot water.  My back was begging me to lie down.  The little boys showered with me, splashing around with their new shaving kits from Grandma Jake, and staying in long after I got out.

It was a cute Cowboy wedding, and we showed up just as the line ended and the dancing started.  We hugged the bride and groom, grabbed some cookies, and made our way out of there.  I was SO weary by the time we climbed into our Escalade and slowly made our way home.  After all the golfing yesterday, and all the hard work today, I was just feeling exhausted.  All I wanted was to climb into bed.

For the last couple of days, I had been helping our Elder's Quorum President fill our temple-cleaning assignment, and as we drove, I wondered out loud to Greg whether or not Brett had gotten enough volunteers.  Literally right then, my phone dinged with a text message.  It was Brett.  He told me we were short on volunteers to clean the Temple Visitor's Center.

I can't go, I thought.  I just can't.  I'm too tired. 

I knew I didn't have to go.  I knew there are lots of things to which a person is allowed to say no.  But somehow, I found myself wrapping my jacket tightly around me and driving myself along the dark streets toward the Temple.  It was quiet when I got there.  And the Christmas lights were so beautiful, reminding me of the time a few years ago when we came with the kids and helped put them up.

Before long, I was dusting and washing windows and completely working up a sweat.  I cleaned high and low for almost an hour.  When I wiped the marble base of the Christus, I found myself staring right into the nail prints of His feet.  I paused.  I looked up, all the way up, to His outstretched arms and His face.  I saw the prints in His hands.  My heart swelled with love and gratitude.  Oh, how I love Him.  I knew that He was the reason I was here.  I wiped a little bit slower as I circled that beautiful statue.

Greg teases me, but I love looking in people's windows as we drive by at night.  I know that sounds creepy! But there is something so cozy to me about seeing people moving around, laughing, cooking, sitting down to dinner, all within the warmth of their own home.  I love to let my imagination fill in the details of all that cannot be heard from the outside looking in.  At my own home, one of my favorite things to do is catch a glimpse of our life through the back windows.  Every now and then, I've needed to go check the pool equipment, or gather something off the grass before bedtime, or take out the evening trash.  As I turn around and head back in, I love seeing my family inside.  I pause for a minute.  And it's a way for me to get a different perspective.  It's quiet and dark, and for a minute, I see them, without hearing them, and I absolutely adore what I see.

Tonight while washing all of the glass doors, I kept stepping out into the cold to clean the outside of the doors.  Suddenly, I couldn't hear the vacuuming going on, or the people talking... I couldn't hear anything from inside.  The night air was crisp, faint Christmas music was playing for the light display, and the glow of the brilliant white Temple was reflecting off the glass I was cleaning.  It was an enchanting feeling.  I sprayed and wiped and breathed in the cold air.  My heart just soared with gratitude that I was here serving.  I felt gratitude to be alive.  I felt gratitude to be standing so near to the House of The Lord.

Looking in from the outside...

The St. George, Utah Temple
The House of The Lord

When I drove home, I felt happy inside.  And that was the first moment I realized that I hadn't noticed my aching back once during the hour I cleaned the Temple Visitor's Center.

Dad, I just don't know how not to run so fast.  So, I'm praying for more strength.

Give me strength, and I will keep running.

December 28, 2017

What a day!

Greg and I warmed ourselves by the fire, talking until our hunger drove us from our room.  We made a quick run to Kneaders to pick up some of their famous, decadent French toast.  We came back and ate it with our feet propped up on the edge of the fire place.  We could see out our huge windows that the golf course was covered in frost.


The one and only other time we golfed at Entrada, it had been midsummer, and 107 degrees by the time we finished.  It was so hot, that we were nearly the only people out golfing.  Even in the heat, we had loved the course.  This time, Greg was really worried about the cold, but we were excited to golf here again.

We showered and checked out of our casita, and headed over to the clubhouse.  They told us they were about an hour behind due to a frost delay, so Greg and I spent some time chipping, putting, and hitting on the driving range.  Greg spent most of his time helping me with my swing.  So that by the end of an hour, I was sweaty and tired.  I was super pleased with my improvement, though.  I am so determined to get better at golfing.  I just want to be able to golf along with Greg without being an absolute embarrassment.

We ate lunch out on the patio, waiting for our tee-time.  When the starter came to get us, he recognized Greg as his doctor.  He begged Greg to call him any time he wanted to get on the course, and told him he would let him on.  Greg just smiled and thanked him and chatted with him for a bit, but then the man ended the conversation by insisting that Greg call him if we ever wanted to golf here again.  It was super nice.

We had the most glorious day.  The weather warmed up to sixty degrees.  The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and I was in short sleeves all day.  Instead of mostly playing horribly and every now and then doing something great, I mostly played well, and only occasionally did something horrible.  I even beat Greg on a couple of holes!  And on every hole, I got a legitimate score (when usually we have to give me a 10 when we've lost count).  I was hitting a 6, or a 7, and one time a 5.  We were having so much fun.  And Greg was so proud of me.

By the time we stepped up to the eighteenth hole, we were both exhausted.  By now, the sun had gone down, and we were getting chilled.  This tee box is high up over a ravine.  You must drive the ball over the ravine and down into this beautiful little canyon.  Last time we were here, I tried a couple of times and never even came close to clearing the ravine on this par 5.  This time, I wanted to hit from the white tee box, because the red was down off the cliff and not nearly as fun looking.

Greg went first and hit his ball way down the canyon, landing in the middle of the fairway, pretty close to the green.  We were both so impressed.  Our backs were both shot, but we wanted to end with a bang.  I teed up my ball, took a deep breath and swung away.  My ball cleared the ravine by a long shot, but went left and far into the wooded gully running the length of the narrow fairway.

Smiling at me, Greg handed me another ball.  I teed it up again.  Deep breath.  Huge swing.  Thwack!

We both stood, mouths open, as that ball sailed way over the ravine, high in the air, all the way down the fairway, as far as Greg's ball had gone.  It landed just barely in the edge of the trees, pretty near the green.

"Rindi!" Greg said, breathless, "You crushed that thing!"

We were both laughing and high-fiving as we got into the cart.  Then it was a winding trail down into the canyon.  We looked and looked for my ball, but never found it.  Those trees were standing in a marshy gully, and since it had been so far from the tee box, we weren't able to spot it's exact landing.  Greg kept saying, "Maybe you hit it farther than this," which only made me laugh.  So I dropped next to his ball.  I hit my next shot up near the green, then chipped it up and on, and then took a couple of putts to get it in the hole.  It felt like we were the only ones on earth, down in that quiet canyon.  The sun had set, and the air was cold.  And I was so thankful that we had been able to golf alone.

Best day ever!

On about the fifteenth hole, a group of four guys let us play through.  We had been breathing down their backs for quite a few holes.  Since it was a Par 3, I decided to hit from the whites again, so I could use my driver.  I was so nervous!  Including Greg, five men stood there watching me.  They were silent, of course, and with all my heart, I hoped I wouldn't swing and miss, or duff it badly.  Please let me hit this, I thought.  I took my time, tried to concentrate, and then swung away.

I let out the hugest sigh of relief when it came off the club solidly.  "Whoo-ee," one of the guys said.  And I walked back to the golf cart, knees still shaking.  After Greg hit and we drove away, I heard the four guys in a conversation about golfing with girls.  I just heard bits and pieces but it was something like, "I don't know if she'd be very good."  And, "I think I might be able to get her to try golf."  I hoped they were jealous of Greg.  Ha ha!

And of course, I completely screwed up my next shot.  But I was so grateful I hit it when it counted. :)

We drove home, backs sore, but excited about such a fun day.  Greg was really anxious to get going on my 100-bag challenge.  After seeing all the bags the girls and I were able to get rid of from the homework nook alone, he was starting to believe.

The house was spotless, the kids were happy, and a few slices of pizza were leftover for us.  We hugged and kissed everyone, and since the kids were watching a movie, Greg and I went back into our master closet to work.  By the time we fell exhausted into bed, we had removed another eight bags to donate.

Greg quit before I did and came out to play our new board game, "Catan," with the kids.  I could hear them laughing and playing as I worked through my bathroom cupboards.

The last thing I heard before I fell asleep was Greg telling me thank-you for a wonderful day.  I haven't been so tired in a long time.  An hour and a half practicing at the driving range, and then 18 holes of golf, made for a very exhausting day.  I had the warm and cozy feeling, when you just feel so sleepy, it wouldn't matter if you were sitting or standing, you know you would doze off.

It had been an excellent day.

December 27, 2017

The weather was beyond gorgeous today.  But for some reason, my mood wasn't the best this morning.  I asked the kids if they wanted to go on a hike and then to an indoor swimming pool, but they all moaned and groaned at that idea.  Some of them shouted, Let's make a Plan B.  And I just felt a little cranky inside, so I said, Plan B involves chores.

The amazing thing is that everyone nicely did their chores.  I was back folding laundry when I thought about how maybe what would be fun for my little kids might not be fun for my big kids.  And maybe I don't have to keep being the mom that runs the fun every time.  So I came out and suggested that Emma and Julia go to the cheap theater and see a movie they've been wanting to see, "Murder on the Orient Express."

They sort of looked at me with a surprised look.  So I said it again.  "You guys go without me.  I'll stay here with the boys."  Well, they thought that was a grand idea, so they showered quickly and grabbed lunch and rushed out the door.  The best part was that they invited Miles along.  Austin and Owen hardly noticed they left.  They were so busy with Legos.

By the time they got home, I was showered, the house was clean, and I was ready for my overnighter with Greg.  They brought Eliese home with them, so I suggested we all go down to the park.  It was nearing sixty degrees.

The kid ran and played while I mostly sat on a park bench, letting the sun warm my back.  It made me so happy to see Lance running back and forth, his little legs pumping hard.  And the rest of the kids were climbing and shrieking and having a fantastic time.

Sunee and Brynn and Avree met us back at home for a little visit.  We kicked up our feet on the couches and crunched on my famous pebble ice and talked for about an hour while the kids continued to play.

Then it was the last minute rush for me to pack a little bag, instruct the kids on their assignment, and wake up Lance who had settled himself on the floor upstairs and fallen asleep.  There was a little scuffle between the girls about the division of responsibility, and no matter how hard I tried, I could not get things smoothed out.  By the time Greg came into the door, we were in the middle of a full-on battle.  There were tears and loud voices and a very angry mama.

Greg saved the day.  He took Emma into his office and shut the door.  I could hear him talking quietly in between Emma's loud sobs.  I went upstairs to talk to Julia.  I told her to wipe her tears and come back down.  The girls wanted to make the pizzas I bought, but instead I whipped up some waffles and fed everyone while Greg and Emma kept at it.  Emma had been beside herself with anger when they started, but when they emerged a half hour later, she was apologetic, and ready to manage the house for us while we left.  We said sorry, and I hugged them all before I slipped out the door.  My mind was a bit distracted as we drove off.

It took the first few minutes of dinner for me to get over it.  Greg patiently talked it over with me, and let me vent a bit, and helped me to see it all more clearly.  I've always felt that Julia and I are seeing the world through the same lenses, but Emma is looking through a different set.  She is looking through the set her Dad often uses.  So he can make all the difference in smoothing things out.  Teenagers are awesome.  And sometimes they are hard.  And man, I love them with all of my heart.  I'm so glad that Greg helped me to see through his eyes for a minute.  It calmed me down immensely.

We had the most fabulous evening together.  We sat by the fire in our little casita at Entrada.  We decided to take a few hours planning and going over the business of our life.  We went over our schedule and our to-do lists and our dreams.  It was amazing what we were able to accomplish when undisturbed.

Then we climbed into that big bed together.  Wrapped in Greg's arms, looking into his eyes, I asked him if he knew how many years we had been married.  He thought for a moment and muttered, "Seventeen and a half?"

I smiled into his neck.  "No, eighteen and a half, I think."  And that answer surprised us both.  We marveled that we've been loving each other for so many years, and yet that love is still so strong and exciting and vital to both of us.  Maybe more so.

When I drifted off to sleep, my heart was full of gratitude for this man by my side.  When I look into his eyes, I see his love for me.  And since this was his Christmas present, I quietly whispered into the dark, "Merry Christmas," to the love of my life.

December 26, 2017

It is always easy to remember that today, the day after Christmas, is my little sister Stalee's birthday.  She came home from the hospital, all those years ago, wrapped in a little stocking.  She was and still is one of the best Christmas gifts ever.  I love Stalee.

I put my feet up by the fire this afternoon, just thinking over my day.  The skies were clear outside, and although everything looked sort of dead and winterish, I could tell that it was warming up nicely. After cleaning hard all morning, and throwing out more bags of trash than is socially acceptable (and they are all stacked embarrassingly at the road for all the neighbors to see!), I decided that someone around here should change out of their pajamas and head to the grocery store.

I supposed that should be me.

I told the family over dinner last night that if we could remove 100 trash bags of stuff from our house, I would take them all to Disneyland.  They all stopped mid-bite.  And then the negotiations started, and even Greg said 100 bags was unthinkable.  I guess I was ready to get rid of everything in this whole house.  And we have a very clean, orderly house to begin with.

Something about Christmas makes me want to clean!  So, the girls and I loaded seven garbage bags full of stuff from our upstairs homework nook.  We threw out so much.  I just kept saying to the girls, "When in doubt, throw it out."  In the end, we had cleared out all of the cupboards and drawers.  Then Emma started to set up her Cricut and crafting area.  It is so beautiful to see that area so empty and clean.

Greg tried sending a few texts to me, but I was unresponsive.  I was here working up a storm, throwing things out and such.  He finally texted again, wondering where I was.  He told me that he was getting so excited for our overnighter tomorrow night, and he'd hoped I was thinking of him, too.  So, I finally sat down and texted him back.  I knew he'd be happy to hear what I'd been up to, because nothing makes that man happier than the words, "Spring Cleaning."

I still think 100 bags is doable.

When Greg and I were first married, he woke up every single Saturday and wanted to "spring clean."  We lived in a tiny apartment.  We hardly had any stuff!  I wanted to go do something fun or adventurous and it was a cause of major strife between us to realize that we had very different views for our free time.  Everyone else would say, Oh, you are so lucky to have a husband like that.  And I would think, How much spring cleaning can we do?  I'm so bored of spring cleaning, I could die!

I've long since learned that you have to plan way ahead for Greg.  If he wakes up without plans, then you can count on that he is planning to spring clean.  And I DO love it.  He keeps a more orderly office and closet than anyone I know.  He is a master at organizing and cataloguing things.  He organizes things I didn't even want organized!  Greg loves a good project.  And once he gets going, there is no stopping him.  He is always, always proud of me for doing the same.  Don't get me wrong, I have fantasies of opening the toy closets and finding them perfectly ordered.  So, I love order as well as anyone.  But there are many other things I'd like to spend my time on.  And truthfully, I don't enjoy those types of "projects."

But today, I'm feeling it.  So, I went around putting things away, throwing things away, and planning and scheming about what else I can get rid of.

I just read back over that sentence and it sounds so gluttonous.  Like, Oh, we have SO much, that I just want to throw all of our stuff away.  Blah, blah blah.

But it's not like that at all.  Part of the problem is that we have eight people living here.  And enough papers, school projects, gifts, clothing items and shoes come through our doors that we eventually need to decide how to eliminate some of it.  A lot comes in.  So a lot needs to go out.  It's just the facts of life.

Well, I grilled up some hamburgers for dinner and then bathed Lance, fed him some more, and set him down in my bed for a little show.  I decided I was trying a completely different tactic tonight.  And I'm pleased to say it seemed to work.  He went to bed pretty easily tonight. But only after I sang him my favorite Primary song.  I always seem to come back to it when I'm singing to my boys.  It says,

Whenever I hear the song of a bird, or look at the blue, blue sky,
Whenever I feel the rain on my face, or the wind as it rushes by,
Whenever I touch a velvet rose, or walk by our lilac tree,
I'm glad that I live in this beautiful world,
Heavenly Father created for me.

It goes on to the second verse and then ends with, Of all His creations of which I'm apart, Yes, I know Heavenly Father loves me.

I think I love that song so much because it really speaks to my heart.  I do look around at this beautiful world and feel my Father in Heaven's love.  Every day.  In every way.

So, I quietly sing and hum that song at bedtime.  And I feel loved.

December 25, 2017

Today is Christmas Day.

I slept soundly and only awoke when I heard Greg rustling around next to me.  He's just like the kids. I tried to roll over and doze off again, but soon Julia was sent as the messenger, telling me that everyone upstairs was awake.  I hate to wake a sleeping child, but they all outvoted me and made me go in to get Lance.  He was as cute as he could be.

The family room was all aglow.  Santa had definitely come to our house, delivering goodies and gifts galore.  We were so spoiled.  Both sets of grandparents outdid themselves this year!  And when you add in our Santa gifts, a few things from Greg and me, and the homemade gift exchange, we were feeling so blessed with gifts.  Christmas for eight people equals a room full of stuff.

I want to make special mention of our homemade gift exchange because it is so special to me.  Greg built Miles a beautiful hanging bookshelf for his room.  It is handmade out of cherry wood, and it is so nice.  I made Austin a plate with his name on it, and I also cut the tassled edges of a soft BYU blanket.  Emma made Owen an amazing tool bench for his tools.  It is so cute!  Julia made Emma the coolest game called a Bimini Ring Toss.  Emma had loved playing it in Park City.  This is a beautiful smaller version.  Miles made me a gorgeous cutting board/butcher block.  And he redid my whole, messy cookbook.  I cried when I saw it all.  Austin made a book for Lance.  It is full of pictures of Mario and Lance.  It is so adorable, and Lance has looked through it over and over.  Owen made Julia some really cute, homemade bookmarks, and we included a book series that Julia has been dying to own.  And Lance (with a little help) sent off one of the amazing pictures Greg took at Lake Powell to a company that turned it into a huge jigsaw puzzle.  The joy everyone felt at giving their gifts was worth all the gold in China to me.  As a mother, I love to see my kids learning to love one another.  I stay up at night, hoping they are learning to be kind, and unselfish, and giving.  Greg has worked his fingers to the bone trying to help with these gifts.  I am forever grateful for the way he thinks grand thoughts, plans big, and takes on bold projects.  Greg has never shied away from hard work.  I am usually looking for the most efficient or the easiest way around a problem.  Greg is always willing to worry about the minute details and to accomplish the most tedious of tasks to produce and amazing end result.  I am hoping in my heart, that the kids are learning from him.  But if nothing else, those kids sat out in the workshop with their dad for hours.  And that is priceless enough.

Lance and Mario - from Austin

Greg gave Austin this massive Lego car.  He planned to build it with him over a few days, just like he had done with Miles a few years ago.  But Austin said, "Dad, can I please try it on my own?"  And our little Lego Master has done a mighty fine job building this complicated car all alone.  

Emma made Owen this toolbench!

I loved making gifts for Austin!

Legos EVERYWHERE!!

Miles with his shelf from Dad.

Miles gave me some precious gifts!

We cooked a breakfast to feed an army, and then our army ate it all!  We had sausage and bacon and Texas Toast French toast.  We had strawberries and orange juice, and yummy ham and cheese eggs.  Everyone ate up, hungry since it was nearing lunch time!

Austin, using his new plate!

Not a one of us changed from our pajamas, or left the house today.  We stayed completely content, building Legos, playing with new toys, exploring with Miles' new robot, and watching Emma design and create really awesome projects on her new laser cutter, a Cricut.  Lance got in the zone and played for hours with his Spiderman tower.  I puttered around my happy family, cleaning and putting things away slowly but surely.

We warmed up our leftover Chinese food, and everyone sort of ate on the run.  It was casual and cozy.  I loved the feeling that we were snug in our house.  For a moment, there was nothing beyond our doors.  And all we needed was each other.  I spent a good part of the evening curled up with my book, These is My Words.  Greg laughed at me, "How many times have you read that?"

"Three," I muttered, so engrossed in the part where Moses Smith attacks Sarah when she is home alone with her baby.  She is fighting like a wildcat, when like a madman, Captain Elliot charges in the door, rips that man off of her, fights to the death, and saves Sarah.  Life was going on around me, but I was lost in my book!

I did spend over an hour of my time trying to rock and sing and coax Lance to sleep.  He just wiggles and squirms and gives it all he's got to stay awake.  Finally, his breathing slowed.  And he gave up the fight.  I tiptoed out.  Greg and the kids had been happily building Legos for hours.  But Greg had taken the other little boys upstairs.  He read them a story and tucked them in.  I gratefully just settled onto my bed and kept on reading.  Greg and the older kids worked on our massive Lego village a while longer before he came to bed.

I was gloriously happy.  It has been ages since I spent hours reading!  Ages!  We talked and marveled at our beautiful Christmas day.  I decided it must have been one of our best ones yet.  Before long, Greg was softly snoring beside me.  And I was turning pages in the lamplight.

It is surely a wonder to be the mother to six little ones.  They are all so different and full of different interests.  They add spice and variety to my life.  They fill me with joy and frustration and happiness, all in a single moment.  But at the end of the day, each one is a precious soul to me.  And having them all tucked safely under our roof is a comfort beyond words.  This will not be the case forever.  And I have a sort of ticking in my head when I think of how grown up Emma is becoming.  Someday she will fly from the nest.  And it will most likely break all of our hearts.  But that is the way of things.

So, for now, I am enjoying the way we all spooned generous amounts of Mom's famous homemade caramel into our mouths all day long, and the way Greg and the kids insist on torturing me with their gazillion Legos everywhere, and the way Lance cuddled on my lap for some downtime today, and the way Miles proudly wore his new robe the whole day--because he was so happy to have one, and the way Julia and I belted out songs on Owen's new Karaoke machine, properly annoying EVERYONE except ourselves, and the way Emma and I schemed up ideas for her Cricut, and the way I sat by the fire, reading my book, and knowing that in this house are my greatest treasures.

December 24, 2017

I'm most definitely not the first to say it, but Christmas Eve on a Sunday is a wonderful thing.  It's always felt a little like Sunday to me anyway.  The boys have to continued to bounce off the walls, but we managed to get ourselves ready for church. We had a 1:00 service.  Julia and I were as nervous as ever, but we ran through our duet on the piano three times with perfection.  I put my arm around her and told her that I was pretty proud of her.  As far as I can remember, this is my first time performing in church.  I am 38 years old.  She is only 13.  But she plays so beautifully, I knew we would be fine.  And I really tried to hide my nervousness from her.

Greg tried to give us some comforting words and encouraged us to relax.  "Why are you so nervous?" he asked.  "You know the song so well!"  I explained to him that it was just a bit outside of our comfort zone, for one.  And, yes, we had put in the practice.  But there is one thing we just can't account for.  "What's that?" he asked me.  Our nervousness, I told him.  I have no idea what will happen to our minds and bodies when we step up to that grand piano with a church hall full of people.

When the time came, we walked together up to the front.  We took a deep breath.  I felt a moment of panic looking at the first note, which looked so unfamiliar.  Calm down, I told myself.  Just play it how you practiced.

We got going so beautifully that I had chills run the length of my body.  I was so pleased that we were doing it.  On about the third page, we went a bit off course.  First I made a little mistake, then Julia, and it sent our hearts aflutter.  We recovered.  Or so I thought.  Julia messed up a bit more, and suddenly the whole page looked like Chinese!  She dropped off for a couple of chords while my mind was racing full speed.  I had visions of running off the stand, crying.  And those visions were not of me, but my beautiful 13-year-old daughter!  I muttered under my breath (but unfortunately loud enough for Emma to hear in the audience--as she and Greg were the only ones who had heard the song enough to know fully that we were stumbling), "Turn the page, Julia, and hang in there!"  She was our page turner, and for a split second, she forgot to do even that.  But she heard my command, and turned that page.  All of this transpired in the time it takes to breathe in and out.  We started going again, and finished the last few pages pretty well.  And frankly, I'm so surprised we made it!

Julia and Mom

Julia and I went back to our seats together.  And the only discouraging thing for us was that we knew it so well.  But playing it at home, and performing it are two very different things.  Any musician knows that.  Greg and Emma showered us with praise and assured us that only they would know we had make a mistake.  Which was very kind.  And we all rallied around Julia who looked pale and frightened.

After church-- Breathing a sigh of relief!

Christmas Eve - Julia, Mom, Lance, Owen, Austin, Miles, Emma

My heart just soared with pride over her.  Our song was so difficult.  And it was well beyond our capabilities.  And we gave it our all.  I just can't get over the fact that she is only thirteen.  And she sat next to me on that bench, and even I couldn't keep my nerves in check.  As we drove home, I told her that my favorite part of our song would always be the hours we sat, shoulder to shoulder, laughing at our mistakes, clapping at our successes, practicing our hearts out for our Christmas Eve duet.  Those memories alone made it all worth it.

Emma and Mom

Mom and Owen

Mom and Miles

Mom and Miles

Kissing me back!

Mom and Austin

Mom and Lance

Dad and Mom

Puzzle Time!

We set the most beautiful Christmas Eve dinner.  We used my fine China dishes and my white table cloth.  I baked a honey-glazed ham, baked potatoes, and hot rolls.  We feasted together, so excited for all that lay in store.  Christmas Eve is my favorite.  I love the focus on our Savior.  Greg read the nativity story from the Bible, while we all acted it out.  We have enough contributors, finally, to make it quite the production.  I loved the glow in the children's eyes as we sang Silent Night to end our play.

Emma the Angel

Reenacting the Nativity

Julia- Mary
Miles - Joseph

The Wisemen
Mom, Owen, Lance

Austin - the shepherd

Greg and the kids have been working hard at a huge puzzle, and they finished it off tonight.  Then it was Christmas pajamas for all.  We were cozy and warm, with the fire going in the fireplace, as we watched, Home Alone.

Christmas Jammies!

My heart is so full.  I am so grateful to know that long ago, in a stable, the Savior came into the world.  I am grateful for the way we celebrate it.  I am grateful for the warm feelings and loving memories that surround this time of year.

Mom texted us all from Maryland, wishing us all a Merry Christmas.  And as everyone sent back and forth pictures of their families in pajamas, having finished up the evening festivities, I felt so close to these precious people in my life.  Mom sounded a bit lonely for Dad.  And all of our hearts were aching a bit.  But I thought about how close I felt just seeing the pictures and reading the words of each of my siblings.  Maybe it is that way for Dad, I thought.  Maybe he still feels close to us.  We just need to remember his love, and remember the way he read to us from the Bible every Christmas Eve, and the way he never missed a year of giving us pajamas.  And then he feels close, too.

Merry Christmas to all...and to all a Good Night!

Merry Christmas, My Love!

December 23, 2017

Today was our annual Haws Family Christmas Party.  Usually Mom and Dad make sure they are here for it.  But this year, Mom went to Maryland to spend Christmas with Millie's family.  I am so happy that she can be with them.  We carried on without them!

The Dannehls came up from Las Vegas, and we spent most of the day enjoying each other.  Austin got some important doggie time.  He even walked Prime to the mailbox for me.  He has wanted a dog so much. It breaks my heart a little, but I'm glad he got to pretend with Prime.

Austin and Prime

The kids played and played.  Finally, Sunee showed up with all of the Chinese food from Panda Express.  We ate together, laughing and talking all strewn about my family room and kitchen.  Then it was time for our traditional gift exchange.  We always give hand-me-down gifts.  And it is so much fun!  The kids are really thoughtful as they pick out something to give to their cousins.  Avree gave Lance a pack of cars and he screamed and screamed with delight.  It was the cutest thing ever.

Back L to R: Jeff, Rindi, Miles, Emma, Julia, Marlee, Katie, Dan
Middle: Sunee, Brynn, Eliese, Lizzie, Sam
Front: Avree, Owen, Austin

We watched a bunch of YouTube videos, and ended the night with a loud couple rounds of JackBox TV.  Everyone had a great time.  As we kissed and hugged them all goodbye, I couldn't help but feel thankful for family.  They all mean so much to me.

Mom's gifts for the day were the DVD from Dad's funeral, three framed pictures of Dad, and a card to each one of us...from Dad.  She said that he had wanted to give us each a gift.  And in the card was a large amount of cash.  I cried and cried.  How could he be gone?  Tears dripped off of my face as I handed out each card to Greg and all of the kids.  In a very sad voice, Miles asked, "Can we watch that DVD another time?  It's too sad."  I set it aside.  We will definitely watch it, but our hearts are too tender to handle it today.  But I loved the closeness I felt to my Dad, knowing that he had wanted to give us this gift.

I told the kids about the time my Dad gave us each a fifty-dollar bill, and encouraged us to carry it with us always, but not spend it.  He told us that having that always in our wallets would make us feel rich, and safe.  For years, I carried that same bill.  And I loved knowing it was there if I ever really needed it.

At one point during the night, Katie looked over at Austin and said, "Austin, you are looking more like Grandpa right now than ever before."  We've always thought he favored my dad, and he is certainly growing into the same giant-sized body.  Austin also has the outgoing, smiley, friendly personality my dad had.  It was sweet to look at my little boy that way.

As I put the boys to bed, I read one more Christmas story.  This one was all about serving others, and how we are really serving the Lord.  I kissed their cheeks and went down to bed.

Greg and I wrapped up in each others' arms and just loved each other.  And I felt safe and warm and loved.

"God gave us families to help us become what He wants us to be.
This is how he shares His love."

December 22, 2017

Friday.

I was wrapping fast in furious in our bedroom when Greg got home early from work.  It seems no one wants their face cut upon just before Christmas.  He had a few surgeries cancel.  He ran into the closet, grabbed me around the waist, shrieked in my ear, and scared me to death!  He swung me around for a kiss.  Let the Christmas festivities begin!!

I watched, "White Christmas" while I wrapped.  I'd never seen that show before.  It was so cute.  And it made me feel the Christmas spirit.  I also spent a lot of time listening to Jesus the Christ.  The energy level in our house is through the roof.  I can't get the boys to calm down!  We had a huge puzzle going, a whole Lego city being built, wrapping going on in my bedroom, power tools going on out in the garage, Christmas cards and mail strewn all over the desk.  It started to feel like every surface was covered in chaos.  I spent most of the afternoon trying to make sense of our chaos.  I'm getting the impulse to clean and clean and clean!  It made me look forward to January again, a little.

But in the meantime, I decided to just sit back and enjoy this house full of people and stuff.  So what if everything is sort of chaotic?  So I cleaned with a cheerful heart.

When it got dark outside, I made up some of my homemade salsa.  But I was surprised to find we were out of chips and tortillas.  As quick as I could, I bundled up and headed to Lin's grocery store.  I hadn't showered or fixed my hair or even brushed my teeth.  It had been full on Christmas mode at home.  Hoping I wouldn't see anyone, I rushed into the store and out of the cold.

I immediately saw a neighbor.  I just smiled cheerfully and said, Hello.  Then he said, "Oh, you look just like my wife: exhausted, lacking sleep, wearing herself out until she's sick."  I laughed, and told him that it had been a busy day, but a good day.  And that I hoped his wife got some rest.  We parted with a Merry Christmas, but I thought, wow, I must look really bad!  Ha ha!

We ate salsa and quesadillas and then curled up by the fire to watch the movie mom had sent us.  I popped the popcorn and settled in.  It was such a cute show, and such a warm and cozy night.

When Greg and I climbed into bed, I worried to him about our wild children.  Maybe we are just spoiling them rotten?  He calmed me down.  He reminded me that they are excited.  And that they have all had a bit too much sugar lately.  He also reminded me that being spoiled isn't necessarily about how much you have, but more about how you feel about what you have.

As I prayed, I asked for strength to mother these children, to run this household, and to teach my children to be grateful.

And I decided to get up early and shower first thing in the morning!! :)

December 21, 2017

It's hard to put into words all that happened today.  But I will certainly try.

It is the first full day of Christmas Break.  The kids were all so wild, that it was quite a task keeping them from swinging on the rafters, so to speak.  The boys were climbing and jumping and wrestling each other at every turn.  It was loud.  And they were excited.

Somehow, I got them all to do some quick cleaning.  And I got everyone to the table for our annual graham-cracker-house decorating event.  This year, I used a hot glue gun for the main structures.  I also whipped up a big bowl of frosting, and I piled lots of candy on the table for the kids to use.  We had a great time, but I'm sure I mostly managed to get them all loaded up with more sugar!

Austin

Julia's castle

Owen

Miles 

Lance

But we did manage to come up with a plan to "Light The World" today.  So, after getting the names from Sunee of four very needy families, we piled into the Escalade and headed to the grocery store.  We loaded two carts full of food, with everyone helping and hanging on the carts and generally making it difficult to move.  Eventually we had it all loaded into our car and finally, we loaded it into the house.  

We have been absolutely loving Mom's 12 Days of Christmas!  We had missed the night she sent money to go out to dinner, and today was a whole day of secret service for each other.  So we decided to do both.

After lunch, we sat in the hot tub together.  "Sat" isn't quite the right word.  More like splashed around crazily.  Then it was inside for little boy haircuts and showers.  Since Lance had fallen asleep on the way home from the grocery store, I woke him up and took him alone back out to the hot tub.  We played around quietly in the still, cold air.  The neighborhood was quiet, the sky was pure blue, and the air was crisp.  He was very docile, unlike his usual wild swimmer self.  It was peaceful and sweet.  Eventually we wrapped up and headed inside.

While Emma went to volleyball practice, Julia arranged four boxes chuck full of food.  We wrote a cute Christmas card on each one saying, "You are SO loved."  And, "Merry Christmas!"  Then Julia and I hefted them out into the cold garage to wait for our nighttime delivery.

I finally showered and got ready for the evening.  While I was fixing my hair, I suddenly had the thought that I needed to visit a family around the corner.

Since becoming Relief Society President, I have wanted to at least meet all of the sisters in our ward/neighborhood.  But for some reason, there have been a couple of names that have filled me with major trepidation.  This one home just felt unapproachable.  I've woken up in the night multiple times worrying about this.  Each time I've lain awake, I've had a whole conversation play out in my mind, of all the things I should say if they answer the door.  But it involved asking boldly if I could come in, and then asking boldly if she would come back to church.  And then giving her my number and telling her how much I care about her even if she never comes back.  I would usually shudder to think of this in real life and try to go back to sleep.

Today while fixing my hair, I suddenly thought of this home.  I felt my heart speed up, and I knew that I should just go right this moment.  A while ago, I bought a couple packs of really cute Pioneer Woman dish towels for moments such as this.  I quickly grabbed one, rolled it up and tied it with a bow, then attached a card with my name and number and drove around the corner and pulled into their driveway.  I felt very nervous.  But after a deep breath, and a quick prayer, I went up to the door.  The doormat said something about beware, low on ammo, and there would be no warning shots.  I gulped and raised my hand to knock.  Suddenly there was a chorus of barking dogs slamming into the door.  I gulped again.  How would I have the courage to ask to come in?  Would they let me in?  Would the dogs bite me?  In the split second, I decided that getting bit by the dogs would be worth it if I could get inside this home. So, I set aside that fear.

To my utter surprise, the wife answered the door.  I was so relieved.  If it had been the husband, I'd have lost my nerve.  She was sort of peeking through the opening, trying to hold back the dogs.  I smiled my friendliest smile and announced who I was, and then heard the words coming out of my mouth, "Can I come in to visit for a minute?"

The shocked look on her face was priceless.  I'm sure she wondered how I could be so bold.  But before I knew it, I was sitting down in the living room, with two dogs growling right at my feet.

And somehow, the conversation went almost exactly the way I'd practiced it in my sleep.  I learned so much about her and her family, and when she told me that about a month ago she had been wondering if maybe she should come back to church, my heart soared.  I told her what time we will be meeting in the new year, and I asked to come, assuring her how much we needed her to come.  And then handing her my gift with my number, I assured her that we, as neighbors, would all be there for her family whether she came or not.  I told her that we just wanted to be friends with her.

It went so well!!  Our conversation was real and warm, and I left that house practically floating.  I was so thankful for the promptings and the courage that was given to me exactly when I needed it.

Mommy and Lance, waiting for a table!

I rushed back home and loaded everyone into the car to meet Greg at Olive Garden.  We had a wonderful, fun dinner together.  And once again, we ate too much!  I keep saying that I'll fix it in January.  But Greg and I are laughing that we are getting a lot "MORE" that needs fixing in January.

Julia, Lance, Austin, Miles, Emma, Owen

After dinner, Greg came home to work in his shop.  He is nearly finished with his massive projects.  The kids and I loaded the four boxes into the back of the car and set off to spread Christmas cheer.

Ready to deliver!

We struggled to find the right addresses and to find everyone home.  And it broke our back loading those boxes back and forth.  But we had such a special time making our deliveries.  At one house, no one came to the door.  We waiting in the road, watching the house.  Finally, we decided to take the box with us and try again later.  I crept up to the door and picked up the food.  Just as I was almost to the car, Emma saw a light flick on.  I froze, and the front door opened.  Caught in the act, I had no other choice but to go back to the door with the box.  I just put on a big smile and made my way to the door.

"Merry Christmas!" I told the small woman.  She kept saying, "Thank you! No English! Thank you!" So, I just wished her a Merry Christmas, and because I didn't want to kill her with a heavy box, I actually took the box all the way into her house.  I set it down and then looked into her eyes.  We didn't need to speak the same language.  I smiled down at her, touched her shoulder, and said, "Merry Christmas."

When I climbed back into the car, the kids were laughing and so surprised that I had been caught.  When I told them that she had said, "No English," they said, "Mom!  You know how to say Merry Christmas in Spanish!! You should have said, Feliz Navidad."  I just smiled at the thought.  And then I told the kids that everyone understands the words "Merry Christmas."

As we rode home, blasting our Christmas music, I certainly felt like we were beginning to understand, too.