Land of THE Longest School Year

 While the rest of the North Western hemisphere is putting up your feet or stretching on your bathing suits, or blankly staring at cartoons on TV--
think of us here- in the land of the longest school year in. the. universe! Seriously. We still have 7 more days of school. Arg.

And speaking of school, I want to share a thought or two on the end of the school year activities- namely award banquets and graduation speeches. I'm all for celebrations- especially if one of my kids is being celebrated. But here's the reality, not all of our children can or will be celebrated.

When my oldest was in elementary, the school contacted us and said to come to a special award ceremony. The award ceremony was for a "Reflections" contest and my daughter had entered a piano composition. I thought, Wow! My daughter is a winner and all the world will verify her amazing abilities with a crinkled certificate or rumpled ribbon- which we would both cherish. So we packed up all 5 kids and attended the very lengthy ceremony. We sat and sat and sat- finally the end came and my daughter received no award or praise or crinkled certificate. I was heart-broken and mad. "How could they pass up my daughter? Don't they recognize her extraordinary intelligence and competence?!"


In hindsight, it was probably my overly ambitious, hopeful, doting-over-my-first-born-daughter syndrome that expected the accolades of all the world and especially her elementary colleagues. duh. And I continue to do the same thing--- years later. Last week, we attended a softball banquet for my second born. She had never played a day of softball in her life until last year when she wanted to follow in the foot-steps of her older sister and joined the high school team. And yet, my heart still fell a bit when Anna didn't receive the "golden glove award" or the nick name "slugger". I'm not blind to the athletic prowess of others. I see how those girls play--really some incredible athletes. I believe my disappointment comes when there is no award for what I see-- what others may miss- my child's potential for greatness. I don't mean greatness in softball or piano composition unless that's what they really want. I see their ever developing skill and strength of learning how to navigate the lessons of life. And I see their successes in areas that go unnoticed and overlooked by academic, athletic or performance institutions.

Just this week, my fourth child, stayed true to a belief, although all of her class mates and favorite teacher supported a position Natalie did not. My son refuses to be brought down by the negative comments that swirl among his peers at lunch time.  And the goodness of our creator has blessed the youngest with sun-shininess. She reminds all of us, that we can not take ourselves too seriously or we will miss the good in life.

So, take heart parents. If your child isn't the sterling scholar or MVP, there are talents and characteristics that can not be measured, yet are essential to this game of life. Albert Einstein has been credited with the passage: “many of the things you can count, do not count. Many of the things you cannot count, really do count.” And for those of you that need a bit of spiritual confirmation of this truth spoken by ol' Al Einstein, the Lord has said: "for the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart." 1Samuel 16:7

Happy Graduation and Award Ceremony-ing!

NorCal Spring Break 2015

 

Spring break couldn't have come any sooner...we were SO ready!! We didn't have huge plans but, we did take a quick trip down the central coast to Cambria and Hearst Castle.

 

The Northern and Central California Coast are not exactly warm...especially at night. Sadie and Natalie loved the fire place in our hotel room.

This is what I loved: pajamas and the remote.

 

 Once again, we ran into the millionaire and his wife.

I don't know about you, but this is what my table looks like at dinner time.

 This is how Scott envisions me in the morning.

On our way back up the coast, we visited with our friends, the elephant seals.

 Four out of five of my baby seals.

Sarah working her ninja photography skills.

 

The Poyd-Llicketts celebrate Easter dinner together.

And what do you do after Easter dinner? You make a zombie horror movie trailer.

Coming Soon to a Blog near you...

Homeschool

A couple of weeks ago, I called my sister. It was 9:30AM. She answered the phone sounding a bit groggy. "Did I wake you up?" I asked. With her quick wit, even in her state of fogginess she admitted, "This is why I don't home-school my kids!" I laughed. "Exactly!" I agreed. A few days later, she called me. It was 10:30 AM. I was just clawing my way out of that cloud of a morning nap. I answered the phone. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Home-schooling my kids!" I blurted. Because we both think we are soooo funny, we laughed. New code word: "Homeschooling". Definition: I'm taking a nap.

I found this note on Google images when searching for pictures of "napping".

Last week, I ran into a friend at Walmart. It was 3:00 in the afternoon. I hadn't exercised or showered. I had answered one call and returned one e-mail. Making small talk, my friend offered, "What have you been doing today? "Home-schooling my kids", I quipped. She gave me a puzzled look. I explained the "oh, so funny" joke  my sister and I share. Two days later, the same friend stopped by my house to return a book. I answered the door, wearing the same shirt I had on when I saw her in Walmart and in my pajama bottoms. (I do not go to Walmart in my pajamas...yet.) "Have you been home-schooling today?" Lori offered. I had to pause for a minute, "Why, yes!" I confessed.



Real homeschoolers, please don't take offense. Do feel free to throw public school under the bus. When 9:00AM rolls around and you've been up since 6:00AM making lunches, feeding kids, combing hair, looking for the lost library book, feel no guilt when you say: "it's time to go to public school" and disappear into your bedroom while your kids watch "Frozen" for the thousandth time.





The picture to the left is my favorite book. Below are a few photos of the things I do when I'm not homeschooling:

I go to musicals with my kids

I pose in front of Marquees in downtown San Francisco

I eat hot fudge sundaes with friends

 I'm a cycling wannabe

I spend $110 on lunch with a friend (Phew! It was a mistake)

The Christmas that Should Have Been

Christmas has been over for a couple of days ...and I've been thinking. Christmas didn't turn out like I imagined. It fact, Christmas never plays out in real life as I envision in my overly optimistic-this-is-where Danny-Kaye-and-Bing-Crosby-come- in-singing mind.









For your entertainment and to my chagrin, I will list how my Christmas should have been: Lights on every eave of the house with a stunning "Festival of Trees" sapling shinning through the front window, well behaved children smiling while they make sugar cookies drizzled with silvery icing, children sitting quietly while a tranquil expression illuminates dads face as he reads from Luke 2, donating thousands of dollars to our favorite charity, perfectly prepared Christmas Eve dinner, followed by a friendly game of "Ticket to Ride."

 Did. Not. Happen.

We haven't had outside Christmas lights since 2005, excluding last year, when Scott threw one strand of "solar" lights on a tree in our front yard. Seriously, we barely get lights on our inside tree. The decorations sat under the Christmas tree until someone finally took pity and finished what I couldn't even start. Instead of homemade cookies, I bought Ghirardelli chocolates from Walmart. Have the children EVER sat quietly? Peaceful is not how I would describe our scripture study and/or daddy-O's face. Our favorite charity this year was Aabco Auto Repair. The van has been in the shop 3 times in the last 3 weeks. In fact, our 1999 Plymouth Voyager--Machine of Wonder is sitting in their parking lot as I type. Christmas Eve dinner was ham and packaged King's Hawaiian Sweet Rolls. I threw a mandarin orange on everyone's plate to fulfill my due diligence as a nutritiously guilt ridden mother. We haven't played Ticket to Ride since...wait?! Do we even have that game??


What did happen was: handsome faces lit up our door-way singing carols. Our college girl came home. We laughed hard as Sarah and Anna both took a turn at burning out the clutch on our only functioning vehicle. The rain has made the hills a glossy green. I got to dance. Scott continues to work. We made new friends.







Perhaps, singing, laughing, dancing, amidst a bit of work and rain followed by a gathering of friends is what God truly intended for the celebration of the birth of the Savior of the world. And yet, I'm hoping God would approve of the sugar cookies as well! Merry Christmas, my friends.

Nicole, my new friend

Lynn K., Nicole H. and me dancing "Atonement"

"Behold The Gift" cast 2014

Finale.

NorCal Homeslice: Bacon Mountain

NorCal Homeslice: Bacon Mountain: I've been wanting to post for awhile...but I just haven't been feelin' it... You know when you feel like you've been goin...

Bacon Mountain

I've been wanting to post for awhile...but I just haven't been feelin' it... You know when you feel like you've been going Mach 2 but you look around and the only thing associated with the rate of Mach 2 is the speed at which the laundry has been growing and your patience has been waning? Yeah--that's me.

Soooo...I've decided it's time to write about my "Bacon Mountains" i.e. places that help me think clearly, sense peace and feel love. The term "Bacon Mountain" originated when we lived in Provo, UT.

When Scott was in graduate school at BYU and we lived in student housing, I didn't want my kids traveling along the busy street of 9th East on their way to school. So, I walked with them and convinced them that we should take a 1/2 mile detour. Our route took us past the Provo, UT temple. (Note: This route lasted a year. In the years following, I grew slack in my safety mothering skills and they walked along 9th east--probably running with sharp sticks too!) In the mornings, the temple cafeteria was cooking up breakfast. As we traveled along Temple Hill Drive, we would leisurely inhale the aroma and my children would proclaim, "It smells like Bacon Mountain!" I cherished these walks (and the smells). It was a time when I felt a sense of purpose in a day filled with seemingly mundane and under appreciated tasks.

Dance 241summer 2010

Another Bacon Mountain place for me is the dance studio. There have been divers studios where I have felt the stirrings of creativity about to surface and the intimacy and contentment which accompanies the prospect of creating. The most recent studio(s) being those in the Richards Building at BYU. The Richards building is home to Physical Education as well. Consequently, opening the doors to the building, one is greeted with the whiff of chlorine from the pools. The chlorinated air generated motivation and familiarity as I anticipated the creative process. 

"I don't know why we all don't dance more. It seems important to me, to feel ourselves in our bodies interacting with our physical surrounding as we create beauty/art." --Cassandra Barney. 

"Ditto" affirmed Susan Lloyd.

Sitting in my backyard is a Bacon Mountain place. I love to sit in my wicker Grocery Outlet purchased chair and absorb the radiant sunshine on any day-- during any season in NorCal and swallow the warmth of the sun and my thoughts.

NorCal's Ultimate Bacon Mountain

The Bacon Mountains in my life have been holy places. Ann M. Dibb has asserted that a holy place can be geographic or a moment in time. Elder Dallin H. Oaks adds that a holy place can be when one is attending to their duty as well. I agree on both accounts. I usually remember the geographical location when I've felt loved--God's love. These places do not seem "holy" because of their location, but because of the moment I felt His love through an answer to prayer: i.e the bathroom, the top bunk in a seemingly institutional place and the shower. All have their "Bacon Mountain" qualities: "The fruit of the Spirit is (or you're near Bacon Mountain when you feel): love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, [and] temperance.” Galatians 5:22

I know it's a rough world out there! If you haven't found your "Bacon Mountain", I pray you will find, feel or smell one today. P.S. Bacon is on sale at Grocery Outlet! Seriously.

Hapū

Hapū is Maori for clan or sub-tribe. In our 21st century, northern hemisphere vernacular, the word is: peeps. 

Last Friday, I returned home from taking Sarah to college. While on campus, I sensed that these were Sarah's people (Te Sarah) and she was about to become a member of a significant hapu. I felt honored to witness her inauguration into Ngāti Rexburg.

 

 

I was especially touched during the question and answer period provided for the wary parents of the incoming freshman. Many parents had questions concerning the track system in practice at BYU-I.    

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R54hBj9zG  

I had questions as well. But as Pres. Clark answered the questions, I had an overwhelming feeling that he was speaking truth. I felt the opportunities afforded at this institution were greater than any of us. President Clark explained the reason for the track system. He said, that because of the track system, in the last 10 years, 70,000 more students have had the opportunity to attend school at BYU-I than would have had the opportunity in a traditional semester system. My thoughts: God loves all of us equally and perfectly and desires to provide opportunity for all...whānau.

On tour in So Cal, circa 1984. Check out my perm asymmetrical do!

After Sarah was situated, I spent the next week in SLC visiting my whānau; family and or extended family. Along with reuniting with whānau, I also connected with my peeps. On Monday, I met my friend of 31 years for lunch in Farmington, UT. We are part of the same hapu. Paula is my people. We attended Utah State University together and were part of the cheer-leading tribe during 1983-85. However, our most meaningful element of connection was our desire to belong---to belong to a tribe that was upright, compassionate, authentic. And I found that in Paula. Paula is legit.  

Going out on the town in NYC, summer 1989

 

Pres. and Sister Grant, Draper, UT 2014

Wednesday, I went to visit my mission president, President and Sister Grant. ( I served a mission for my church in New Zealand from January1993 to June 1994). I really wanted to title this post: "Children of Divorce, Serve a Mission!" for many reasons, but I will name just a few: 1. You are exposed to an example of unity in a marriage. 2. You learn to forget yourself and serve others 3.You feel just so much stinkin' love from your mission president and his wife! and 4. You don't get nervous when both of them are in the room at the same time!!

Mon Cheri!

That same evening, I drove down to Provo and attended the wedding reception of my friends', Dara and Glen Jakins oldest daughter, Tarryn. Everything about the reception was perfect. But let me tell you about perfect...these gals from Provo are my peeps! Six years with Scott in graduate school was challenging, especially towards the end. But these gals championed me in everything. For example, if I showed up at my children's school...(not to volunteer of course, but to pick up the kid I had forgotten)! My peeps would cheer me on. At any given time, if any one of these women would come sit or stand by me---I felt stronger.

Te Kāhui Reception (The assemblage of the reception)

Te Susan (Susan's people)

This is my hapū. We are whānau. Thank you for allowing me to belong.