Hodgepodge of Highlights

On Monday we took our whole family to our version of Disneyland.

Really. Check out Halle's face.

The fear...the anticipation...the thrill of what might come next...

Unfortunately, the mud on my mirrors the next day reminded me why people who live on dirt roads don't ever pay for car washes.

Wednesday's weather called for soup, so Lyla and I bundled up and went out to the garden to pick carrots, turnips, and parsley.

Our warm fireplace laughed a little as we shivered our way back inside.

Quite a bit of our summer garden is still hiding out in our freezer, so I added some shredded zucchini to the pot simmering on the stove later that day. Tortellini soup. Yum.

Oh. And this is Bentley. He is not our dog.

I was headed home from dropping off Beau at middle school on Friday morning when I came up behind two clearly un-street-smart dogs. For half a mile they trotted aimlessly in front of me, cars whirring passed them in the other direction.

Lyla was at home with a high fever and the other kids were all getting ready for school. Wes was about to leave for work. Should I?

The first dog (who I later came to know as Scout) said "rub my belly and I'll follow you anywhere" as soon as I stepped out of the car. Scout jumped up in my Suburban and went right to sleep in the back seat. I called the number on his tag and left a message for his owner. Then I turned to the other dog, Bentley- the one in the photo. He had no tag but clearly belonged with the dog already fast asleep in my warm, dry car. 

Bentley wasn't so sure about me- though he really wanted to be. He would come close to me, yearning to curl up next to his companion, then back away with a bark of mistrust.

I knew enough to beware of a dog who was scared. 

So now what? This second dog had no tag. If I left him here, only Scout would make it home. No one would ever know where Bentley belonged. I knew I needed to keep the two dogs together.

I called the kids at home and told them they would be late for school, then dug around my car for some food. Two baggies of Cheerios later, I was left with well-slobbered hands and a 100 pound dog that still wouldn't budge.

Hmmmmmmm...what to do...

Then slowly he put two front paws up into the driver's side. Another minute passed. And finally, up he went.

Fantastic. An hour after pulling over, the second dog was finally in my car. 

But Bentley refused to move out of the driver's seat. I reached into my mental grab bag of doggie tricks, but after an hour it was pretty much empty.

Some time passed and I eventually imagined an agreement between the two of us: he wasn't going to bite me (fingers crossed). With a deep breath, I slid into the narrow gap between my steering wheel and Bentley's hefty self, thinking SURELY he will move once I'm in the seat with him.

But he didn't. So with 100 pounds of dog taking up most of my seat, I leaned my head forward into the dash board and put the car in gear. I drove the curvy mile to my house pressed up against the wheel, barely able to steer. 

Oh, and it gets better. While I leaned forward over the steering wheel, my sizable new companion sat down...on my back. I tried to laugh, but there was just no room.

This all ends well. The owner, having been out looking for the dogs until 11 PM the night before, pulled up to my house an hour later. She was thankful to have her dogs back, safe and sound, and I was thankful for the entertaining morning- a little break from the everyday routine.

That night, I lay on the couch with a feverish Lyla draped over me. She had come home from her swim lesson on Thursday with a 103-degree fever. Now and again she would wake up and melt my heart with an, "I love you, Mom." Sweet Lyla.

The time to make dinner came and went as I struggled to keep my own eyes open under her warm snuggly heap of helplessness.

"I'll make dinner," Wes announced. I smiled. My eyes closed. Wes making dinner almost always involves a phone call and a quick trip downtown.

Chinese take-out.

Before he left, I heard him make his way over to our TV and the tangled mess of cords and electronics hiding behind it (a project for a coming day). When the music started, my eyes opened to see him staring back at me. His eyes were twinkling and accompanied by a smile that said, "I know you." 

While You Were Sleeping.

It just might be the 432nd time I've seen it and he knows I still love it. I also love White Christmas, It's a Wonderful Life, and Return to Me, and insist on my family watching all of them year-after-year over the holidays.

My kids have their own list of must-watch holiday movies- Home Alone, Elf,  and The Polar Express.

Hmmmm...not even Thanksgiving and already I'm going off on holiday movies.

ANYWAY, it's now Sunday night and Lyla is feeling well enough to jump on her bed, disregard my insistence that she put her head on her pillow and, in general, treat bedtime more like a trip to Disneyland...er...the car wash.

On to a brand new week...

Mums and More

Funny. Of all the fallified front porches, fireplace mantels, and foyers to be found in the maze we call Pinterest, I haven't seen one fallified car.

Go figure.

Fall is all over our front porch, too. Oh, good grief! I just noticed that price tag-beautiful. At least it doesn't seem to bother Book. Yep. Our cat's name is Book. Go figure again.

Here's a close-up of that wreath. It was spring when my daughters and I gathered enough bright green moss from our property to put it together. By fall the moss had dried and faded so that, with a bit of burlap and accessories, I had the perfect fall wreath.

I would never call myself a crafter--most of my attempts at following crafty instructions or even cutting straight lines end with me curled up in the fetal position. But this wreath boosts my fragile craft-esteem and allows me the confidence to stroll again through Michael's with my head held high.

Please don't ever knock my wreath.

We also brought up some plump pumpkins from the garden and what was left of our measly corn stalks.

Fall has moved inside, too. The collection of rocks and shells from this summer's rivers and beaches has acquired a few colorful leaves for small fingers to explore. There's even a plastic bear hidden among the rocks. Lyla likes to tuck him in with plenty of cozy leaves and pretend he is hibernating.

Watching Halle use the rocks and leaves to do her math makes me smile.

A recent storm had enough time to do some damage before I remembered to gather all of the potted mums into the garage. Halle quickly capitalized on the spoils.

And added her own little touch of fall around the kitchen.

The remaining squash came in from the garden this week and after a good scrub-down is now drying on the kitchen island. Even though they have commandeered quite a bit of my work-space, I will probably enjoy them being there for a few extra days. Next to mums, nothing articulates FALL better than a great big pile of brightly-colored winter squash.

I'm linking up to the Fall Nesting Party at The Inspired Room and the Tuesday Garden Party at An Oregon Cottage.

Kids, Chores, and Cold Hard Cash

This is an article I originally wrote for Mormon Mommy Blogs. Since it captures several important aspects of our family life, I'm reposting it below- 

The tooth fairy laughs as she stealthily exchanges a small handful of coins for the lone tooth under his pillow. The thought occurs to her that this boy worked so hard at twisting out his not-quite-ready tooth this evening because it is book fair week at school. And while his mother may consider the library their second home, she does not GIVE her children money for the book fair. She does, however, provide them with ample opportunity to EARN book money- particularly during book fair week- but apparently it is easier to rip out a tooth.

Some seriously mixed-up priorities? Perhaps. But to me, it's also a reflection of Tyjah's concept of personal responsibility when it comes to money. And that maybe this whole family economy-chore thing we have going on is working...

In our house, chores fall under three caregories:

1. Personal Stewardship Chores

They may not pay rent but our kids' rooms are, well...theirs and by taking care of them they show gratitude for what we provide. It also helps that we have a live-in garage fairy. She may, without warning, creep into any child's room in the middle of the night and collect anything left out. She gets tired and takes some nights off, but she still manages to accumulate quite a stash in the garage. And next to my husband, she has become my best friend.

2. Family Contribution Chores
We have some chores that the kids do simply because they are members of our family. Things like taking out the trash and recycling, sweeping the front porch, and weeding the garden are all necessary for our family to function successfully. Everyone contributes as they participate in our regularly rotating family chore chart. It's important for kids to feel a part of something greater than just themselves. These unpaid chores and expectations help nurture that sense of family identity and also help them feel needed.

3. Paid Chores

Right now our family room is decorated with neon posterboard and Duct Tape. Classy, I know. But I love that my each of children's summer goals are right there where they constantly see them.

I noticed that each of them made financial goals, ranging from my twelve-year-old earning $40 per week to my six-year-old snipping twenty slugs.

That's right. Snipping Slugs.

She knows she earns 5 cents per snipped slug. Sounds a little weird, but if you could just spend ten minutes in our rainy Pacific Northwest vegetable garden, you would quickly realize both the income potential for my children and the vegetable-saving value of little fingers snipping away at our vast army of slugs.

I keep two pairs of scissors in the garden for on-hand slug defense.

How did it get this bad? How did we come to a point where we send our little ones out armed with slug-terrorizing scissors for a mere nickel?

It had something to do with too many trips to Target pushing a cartful of children all periodically whining, "Can I buy..." or "I want..." or my personal favorite, "But our's is old."

I started responding with, "Sure! Do you have enough money in your pocket?" It didn't take long before we all realized that they NEVER had ANY money in their pockets. It's kind of hard for kids to have opportunities to learn to budget, earn, save, and pay an honest tithe when they have NO MONEY. And since we felt those lessons were our responsibility to teach, we came up with a plan.

Hanging beside our regular chore chart, we have a paid chore list. It includes, well...slug snipping, for one, but also mowing the lawn, babysitting, reading books to the younger children, detailing our cars, and even detailing our vacuum (I hate cleaning out all of those canisters and filters almost as much as I hate a dusty vacuum).

Paid chores can only be done after all other unpaid chores are done. And since I don't want to pay my son to scrub out the inside of the kitchen trash can if my daughter did it the day before, the kids have to check with me before starting.

Aside from jokes about the tooth fairy incident, we've seen a lot of success with how they handle their finances.

Halle's budget/goals: Will take a lot more than twenty slugs, no?

While my little girl is saving for the next My Little Pony, my oldest son is off to a good start on his mission fund. He's also determined to go to BYU, regularly perusing the website, checking out the dorm options and mapping out his already-chosen major. And he's made a budget, too. Let me tell you, as a mother there's something so validating about seeing the shock on your twelve-year-old son's face when he realizes the discrepancy between college tuition and the $7 he earns mowing the lawn!

They are surprisingly generous, too. Just last week my eight-year-old son felt like the king of the planet walking around with his new shark teeth that his older brother bought for him at our local farmer's market.

Will our grown children all be sitting around the table someday collectively rolling their eyes at our little system? About the so-called garage fairy? Will they jokingly try to imitate me and the way I so often responded with, "Do you have enough money in your pocket?" Will they tell their children stories of early morning slug-hunting and how they kept a tally of how many nickels they earned? Maybe. Okay, probably. But I hope they all carry forward a sense of family identity, personal responsibility and a healthy respect for their financial stewardships.

More From This Weekend

The weather this weekend provided us with a beautiful backdrop for nostalgia-in-the-making.

In addition to our family watermelon toss (click here if you missed that), we brought all the rest of the pumpkins and winter squash up from the garden.

I don't think we'll starve this winter.

We took a walk as a family to visit the horses around the corner, too.

Samson and Rosa LOVE my children carrots.

We also watched all eight hours of General Conference this weekend. Those three right there were so touched by Elder Jeffery R. Holland's talk. With the gamut of OCD, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and Tourette's Syndrome among them, they felt he was speaking directly to them. As a mother whose tears have soaked her pillow many a night- whose prayers on her children's behalf have been drawn out of the deepest part of her soul, I felt he was speaking directly to me.

"If you're the one afflicted or a caregiver to such, try not to be overwhelmed with the size of your task. Don't assume you can fix everything, but fix what you can."

"If the bitter cup does not pass, drink it, and be strong- trusting in happier days ahead."

Elder Holland also referred to Stephanie Neilson and all that she has so gracefully endured. She is such a tremendous example of strength. If you don't know her incredible story, watch this short video or visit her blog here.

Finally, in all these sometimes staggeringly hard things, Elder Holland reminded us of the power of Christ's atonement.

“Of greatest assurance in such a plan is that a Savior was promised, a Redeemer, who through our faith in Him would lift us triumphantly over those tests and trials, even though the cost to do so would be unfathomable for both the Father who sent Him and the Son who came. It is only an appreciation of this divine love that will make our own lesser suffering first bearable, then understandable, and finally redemptive.”

There is a plan and as we turn toward our Savior, relying on Him, our hardships can work for our eternal good.


Unfamiliar with General Conference? Go here to learn more.
Then, watch the most recent broadcast here.

Bet You've Never Played Football With a Watermelon

Of course, I was fully aware that the combination of our short summers and towering evergreens would hardly cast a glimmer of hope on the ripening process--watermelons, even minis, need LOTS of sunshine.

Still, I couldn't resist the experiment.

I have to admit, I was pretty impressed with how close they came to ripening.

But since they weren't that ripe and I didn't want to overwhelm my haphazard attempts at a compost pile, we held a family watermelon toss into the woods.

Which briefly turned into a sticky and somewhat painful game of watermelon football.

Not surprisingly, my kids all want to know if we can plant watermelon again next spring.

For more on what we did this weekend, go here.

A Hobo in the Garden

Apparently hobo spiders like cinder blocks.

WHY DID I NOT KNOW THIS BEFORE BUILDING A CINDER BLOCK WALL AROUND MY STRAWBERRIES?!?!

I'm so glad I happened to be there when a hobo charged my Lyla's hand. That's right--charged. 

In a rush of adrenaline, I swiped Lyla out of the way. In the meantime the hobo retreated back down into the cinder block.

It sends shivers up my spine thinking how often my little girls must have leaned up against that block to pick deliciously sweet strawberries. I just happened to be there as the spider charged (did I mention charged??) within centimeters of my three-year-old's hand.

I'm enough of an arachnophobe to buy up every sticky trap this side of the Cascades and Tear. Down. That. Wall.

And maybe stop gardening altogether.

Sell the house, even. Move.

Photo of spider by tup wanders

Oh, that wall is definitely coming down.

September Garden Colors

It's September in the garden and the colors of early fall are beginning to mingle with those of late summer.

The beans took a break for a bit, but seemed to have gotten a second wind. I love how the purple and green look together.

And there seems to be no end to the amount of summer squash and cucumbers for little hands to pick through.

Watermelon? In the foothills? We'll see if these minis actually ripen...

The tomatoes on one side of my garden all got blight. Not too happy about these colors. Fortunately, I have more on the other side of the garden that seem to be doing just fine.

The red cabbage is heading and looks so pretty.

And the little girls are all about the little pops of berry color scattered throughout the garden. Strawberries, raspberries, and this lone pink lemonade blueberry.

I'm linking up again this week to the Tuesday Garden Party at An Oregon Cottage.