Mother's Day 2012

Like a lot of moms, I've never loved Mother's Day. The endless praise of perfect, angel mothers never failed to produce anything in me than epic feelings of guilt. Then when my children inevitably squabbled or spilled food on the floor, or my husband wasn't as doting or attentive as I expected him to be, I would end up disappointed, pouting, feeling sorry for myself and bitter because obviously no one appreciated me.

I wanted this weekend to be different, so I adjusted my attitude, and we made plans. We dropped the kids at my parent's house yesterday afternoon, and we got to spend a few peaceful, wonderful hours at the Jordan River Temple.  We returned to my mom's house and feasted. The weather was beautiful, the food was delightful, (watermelon and corn on the cob in mid-May? Yes, please!) and the kids were blessedly well-behaved.

The highlight of the night, though, came on the way home. Max's favorite primary song is "I Love to See the Temple," and when he heard we were going to the temple yesterday, he begged and pleaded and cried. "I wanna go to the temple, Mama, can I go to the temple?" So on the way home, we stopped and unloaded all four of the kids on temple grounds so they, too, could feel the peace and beauty of the temple.

 We posed for the camera, and miraculously got a picture with everyone smiling at the camera at the same time. (And someday, my husband and I are going to learn to take decent pictures...)

 The kids played by the fountain, and no one fell in.

Not that Ian didn't try... (I love this picture so so much, because it shows so clearly, so exactly who Ian is!)

The sweetest moment of the night though, came as we were trying to load Max back into the van. Much screaming ensued until we figured out that Max wanted to actually touch the temple. We had told him he couldn't go inside, but he desperately wanted to touch it. I took him right up on the grass and he put both hands firmly and purposely on the outside wall of the temple. He beamed at me, then turned around and marched back to the van, saying "Goodnight temple, see you tomorrow."

The quote from President Monson rang through both my and my husband's mind: "As we touch the temple, the temple will touch us."

Those sweet, tender, peaceful experiences with our kids made my whole weekend. I could have ended the weekend there and called my Mother's Day a success.

But aside from Ian disrupting virtually every meeting in progress in our building today with his shrieks, today was remarkably peaceful as well. I enjoyed my epic post-church nap, as well as sitting on the couch eating juicy pear jelly beans and listening to Tom and Abby putter around the kitchen making dinner. My spaghetti dinner was wonderful, and made all the more so by the fact that I once again got to plan myself on the couch while everyone else cleaned up.

But the highlight of my day?

Ashlynn has a gift. She has many times brought me to tears with her cute, heartfelt notes and cards. This letter today made my Mother's Day the best I can remember.

Coming up for air

Oh look, a blog! I wonder how long this has been sitting here...?!

It's May. It's warm outside. It's the end of the school year. Things seem to be getting away from me lately.

So we're moving. Hallelujah and praise everyone. Our tiny two bedroom treehouse, originally envisioned as a two-year plan, has sold, and we'll be closing on it mid-June. I can't deny how exciting the thought of living somewhere with more than two bedrooms is, but as always, our timing leaves something to be desired. Two weeks ago, our agent told us to plan on August; two days later she texted to tell us mid-June. Of course, mid-June is also violin institute time, so we'll either be moving our entire household the weekend right before or right after Abby and I check out of life for a week to play violin. I have officially packed one box. Go me.

The problem with selling our house, however, is finding a new place to live. We should have that nailed down this weekend, hopefully. It's a bit unnerving to know that we have to leave, but don't necessarily have a place to move into. We are learning a lot about faith. A LOT.

I am, however, pretty proud to announce that we have very nearly completed our first year of homeschooling. There have been many tears, fights, and struggles, but I'm pretty sure that we've all learned something in the process. And we've *gasp* decided to continue homeschooling next year. Although I must confess that we're in the midst of some pretty serious spring fever around here. It manifests itself in many different ways, notably my utter lack of motivation, and the girls taking hours to complete assignments that they could dash off in 15 minutes if they weren't so distracted by the gorgeous weather. Now I know just a little bit of how public school teachers feel.

We are trying to nightwean Ian. And by trying I mean I'm trying, and Ian is not. I feel bad for him, I do. I'm the one that has changed the rules with such callous disregard for his feelings. And he's the one that is crying for hours about it. In the middle of the night. Which makes teaching 6am violin lessons an extra bad idea. I'm trying to decide if it will get better if we keep working on it, or if I'll actually die of tiredness in the process. Is it possible to die from tiredness? I don't actually know, but even after an industrial-strength Diet Coke, I'm still feeling like I could fall asleep faster than a sleep=deprived narcoleptic, so who knows.

Wish me luck. And Diet Coke. I'm going to need lots of both.