Trying

I've been doing some thinking and planning a lot for the new year. Organizing is one of my favourite things to do, and this time of year begs for it. (Going through the kids' clothing inventory so that THIS doesn't happen again next year has been a fun project.) It's also the time of year when people worldwide begin to make resolutions; to set goals, and face life with a fresh start.

I am big into setting goals. But not just at the New Year. I give myself several fresh starts throughout the year. Beginning of the school year is a biggie, October and April when I am inspired by LDS General Conference talks, in August when I inevitably age each year, and also in January.

As a little girl, our family was exemplar in setting goals. My parents would set five year goals for each of us in different areas: physical, mental, spiritual, social... am I forgetting any? And then we would create either monthly or weekly goals for ourselves as well. I still have several of the drawings of my goals, and my children love seeing what I had to work on when I was their age.


I brought this goal setting determination into our marriage and though it has been a little one-sided, we sit down regularly (or at least annually) to create and determine and reflect on our individual, couple and family goals. Looking back I can see that we set three different types of goals: goals that we were able to achieve; goals that are still hard to reach; and goals that so eloquently speak of a specific time and stage of our lives. They are fun to review. And only slightly discouraging.

While supposedly writing down and reviewing goals will bring achievement (yes, I know acting on them is also a big participant), I find that even in not meeting all of my goals I have become a better person. I'm trying. Sometimes I'm trying my best, some days that's not even remotely possible, but I am almost always "trying." And that gives me the courage to keep setting goals, even when I have failed or given up in the past. I encourage all of us to keep trying this new year and see who we can become in a short twelve months.

Perfectly Happy

Two of my little boys are so similar it's scary. They like many of the same toys, have several unique yet identical characteristics, and because of this have a love/hate relationship. To be honest, having gone through the fire with the first of these two is making raising his brother at least tolerable. We appear to know what we're doing this time round, or at least have a few expectations of our parenting outcomes. Both boys are what I refer to as "bi-polar" - heaven forbid they actually ever be diagnosed with this horrific illness. They are both extremely emotional and can range in emotions quickly and drastically. Giddy one second and then crying or angry the next. Some of you can relate, I'm sure.

Today was a emotional roller-coaster for my one son. But I was thrilled that when I tucked him in to bed tonight he was smiling and happy. "You're happy" I told him. I want him to tune in to his feelings, and I was also glad that stating the obvious made for a bright ending to both of our days. "I am happy," he told me. "I was happy at church today too." "Why were you happy?" I asked. "Everyone thought I was funny and they kept laughing at me and I liked it." Uh oh, I thought, my son was being a troublemaker. "Were you being a troublemaker?" "No. I don't know why they were laughing." "Were you talking out of turn, or being loud?" (I had seen him doing just this while passing by his class.) "Did your teacher have to tell you to stop or be quiet?" He gazed up at me with his adorable smile still in place. "Nope. I was perfect." I kissed him goodnight, and as he wiped off my kiss I was glad he could, for at least a moment today, be perfectly happy.

"Merry Christmas"

If it's about love and family togetherness... ours has been very merry.

Love how this little guy says his "Mawwy Kwismiss" wishes:



Christmas traditions are the best. Some of ours for Christmas day are wearing the Santa hat to give a gift, staying in our pjs all day until our formal Christmas dinner, Christmas crackers, Christmas cranberry pudding for dessert - this is an acquired taste - (I remember hating this as a child, but love it now, to date in our home Mr. Man and I are the only ones who enjoy it!), each person receiving three gifts: gold (want the most), frankincense (something for body or mind) and myrhh (a religious gift opened Christmas Eve). I can't think of any others yet, but wanted to record these for posterity. **********correction, the two eldest just loved the Christmas pudding!!!************


From our family to yours: "Merry Christmas!"

Letter to My Christmas Baby

Dear Miss J,

You are nine today. I am in awe. Stuck in a sort of time zone of memories. All of the momentous milestones of your short, yet impactful life have been flooding my mind and heart today. You are indescribable; amazing. And, for a brief time called childhood, you are mine. I’ll say it again, I’m in awe.

How have nine years passed by in the blink of an eye?

We were so young when you were born. Thankfully you were even younger and didn’t notice the apparent parenting flaws that flock the home videos you watched today from your first year. You brought us so much joy, while we struggled with our new roles. You survived us, and we are better for it.

This year you have changed so much. You are growing up into this gorgeous, self-composed young woman who challenges authority and aspires for peace and fairness. I love this about you. I love that you feel so strongly about such issues at such a young age and already do make a difference around you. I watched you with your friends at your “almost-over” party last night. Giddy and foolish, young and loving life, and yet careful and friendly with each girl, making sure no one would feel left out or leave without having a wonderful time – even though it was YOUR night.

I love your giggle and how you still crinkle up your nose in that cute little smile of yours. I love watching you read and hearing all the stories and tales that are filling your mind and your daydreams. And you are still oh so the drama queen! Even while playing basketball and getting so seriously INTO that game (my amazing rebounder), you will become the actress supreme as you feign dehydration and dramatically pretend to pass out right at half-time.

You are still our mother hen and I know you are counting down the years till you can officially babysit all your little brothers. But you are so great with them, and truly look out for them. I know you have some wonderful friends in them as well.

These past few months have been hard for you. Moving away from your long-time home and friends has not been easy for such an emotionally sensitive little girl. And I ache as you have cried, understanding too well the pain of change. And yet you have embraced the change and tried so many new things, and done so well in each area. You keep very busy, and yet are always ready to have fun or help out.

You have so many talents. From making crazy bread or baking cookies, playing piano, painting and drawing beautiful creations, writing the most entertaining stories, trying out and excelling at athletics, and so many more. I can’t wait to see what else you will do and who you will become. You could be so much with all that you already are, and I will wait with baited breath… in awe.

I love you. Happy birthday.

Mommy.

(she had her "real" cake: nanaimo bars at her friend party - but I don't want to post pics of others' children)

A beloved and long-wished for gift: her doll Emily.

My sparkling girl and boys with our Christmas outfits.

tickets please

*********We have a stomach bug and visitors at our house. Here's a post I never posted. Wish us well before birthdays, anniversaries, and Christmas arrive!

You know me and charts. I love a good system. We've been using a ticket system for screen time lately and I love it. It works. Meaning it limits screen time, it's controllable and simple.

Inside one of our kitchen cabinets are envelopes with the children's names to hold their earned tickets. There is also a note reminding them how they can earn tickets. Each ticket is worth 15 minutes of screen time, whether it be a movie (we don't have cable), playing video games or computer time. The children can earn tickets numerous ways: doing a certain amount of learning activities, extra piano practice, read/read to me, babysit The Toddler, play outside, extra job... Typically a half hour of another activity will earn you one 15 minute ticket. Not getting your morning chart done in the morning earns you a red ticket in your slot - meaning you lose the privelege of either earning or redeeming tickets. That sucks. There is no limit to how many tickets you can earn, but all of your unused tickets disapear on Sunday and you have to start over on Monday. (Saturday becomes a big "use up your tickets day" - which I am fine with!) On top of earning tickets, we almost always have Friday movie night which is a freebie.

I love this system so much right now. When a child comes to me begging for screen time, I don't have to be mean Mom, I merely ask if they have any tickets. I also get lots of "extra" jobs done around the house which is so worth it to me (on top of their daily jobs). Even if they are reading or playing outside with the intention of earning screen time, they are still doing a lot more of well-rounded activites than just sitting in front of a screen. Also, sometimes certain children will get frustrated with the system and choose not to earn any tickets and instead just play. Heaven forbid.

Because we have a pretty strict system, moments like when I had a migraine earlier and needed a movie to "babysit" are both guilt-free and special. I know that every family has individual beliefs and strategies for screen time, but I just wanted to share what works for us. For now.

brotherly advice

Mr. T to Little E: "You know, Superheroes lose their power if they ever get married. But you can have a girlfriend if you want."

Our New Addition

I broke the news to my husband late Friday night. I haven't seem him that happy in a long time. Usually when I announce we will be adding a new member to our family, there is a glimmer of worry and concern mingled with the wonder and contentment. This time the grin could not be wiped from his face. He was sure I was tricking him, but alas, his dream had come true.

Saturday he shared the news with the kids, who were equally excited. Then we went to finalize the paperwork and adopt our little three month old.

His name is George Lucas. Lucas or Lukey for short.

So far I am coping with having an animal in the house much better than I expected. We still have some "training" to do, and I admit I am ready to throw him out of the house at night, but I'm surviving a hyperactive kitten and even, ahem, enjoying him. (I mean, isn't he cute?!) The kids are completely obsessed, and we are considering bringing back all their other presents... and Mr. Man is utterly infatuated as well, so I know I picked the right (early Christmas) present for him. I'm sure this little bundle of joy will bring a whole new realm of adventure to our home. Ready or not...

(He's surprisingly hard to take pictures of - did I mention how hyperactive he is? Here's a few okay shots! And here's a small reminder from posts and comments past if you don't realize how HUGE this adoption is for me!!!)

toddlerhood revisited

I couldn't find this little guy in my big house. He was playing quietly.

Apparently a clone trooper was drowning in invisible water and needed an ambulance.

I much prefer those moments to these:
That doesn't leave much to the imagination, does it?!

O Tannenbaum

We had a fake tree every year of my childhood. Granted it wasn't anywhere near as fake and decrepit as my best friend's Christmas tree - which was basically in complete Charlie Brown style and was pulled out, I assume, as a family joke year after year. Needless to say I was thrilled when we moved back to the mainland after a couple of joyous Mele Kalikmakas and Mr. Man suggested we get a real Christmas tree. Our first tree, I forget the exact type, gave me the worst rash ever. My sensitive skin couldn't handle it, and I was ultimately allergic to our tree. I had to wear gloves and long sleeves in my attempt to decorate, and quickly abandoned the effort. But the tradition had begun. The scent, the reality, the adventure begged for a new family tradition. Year after year we spent hours at local Christmas tree farms, taking turns finding the "perfect" tree. When we followed my influence the tree was small and branchy - I love that look. Mr. Man's influence was rather large; meaning our small home was typically swallowed up by a tree that brushed both the ceiling and the walls. This year was Mr. Man's turn to sway the direction of the family Christmas tree.

This was also our first time to venture out into the wild to hunt. In true Montanan style we purchased our five dollar tree permit and headed into the forested mountains in the freezing cold four feet deep snow in search of Mr. Man's vision of a Christmas tree. It was quite the adventure. And after three and a half hours, I couldn't help but compare our search to the Griswald family old-fashioned Christmas tree escapade. We were frozen. Mr. Man's saw was not quite up to the job at hand. The children were whining. And we still had to trek all the way back to the car with our too-tall tree. But it's beautiful, it was a memorable tradition-fulfilling adventure, and the cheapest tree we've ever hunted! And I love that wild trees shed nary at all.


This is the first year I have happily, and without remorse, given up trying to decorate my tree. It's the kids tree and I'm surprisingly fine with that. It just hit me that this childhood phase is going to be short lived and one day I'll be alone in my house with Mr. Man and the hunt and the decorating will be a quiet and sullen time without them. So I embrace the disorganized decorating style, though I did arrange a small bell relocation committee when all the bells had found their way to two lower branches. I think only two of my breakable ornaments bit the dust this year, and I was non too sympathetic when one of Miss J's special ornaments was dropped and broken beyond repair. It was momentarily satisfying to see her comprehend how it feels to have that happen. And she suddenly became my voice of caution to her brothers as they carefully handled the remaining ornaments.

The tree is such a symbol of Christmas. And our tree, a grand representation of our family: a unified attempt at something bigger and more beautiful than we could ever be individually.

Letter of Recommendation

I'm applying for school and scholarships and I find myself in need of short essays and letters of recommendation. Essays are no problem, and I can discipline myself to be short. But letters of recommendation? Those I don't really get. Of course I'm going to seek after people who think I am beyond wonderful. As will everyone else applying. My personal favourites are when the recommender asks for me to write my own letter and they sign it. I can make myself sound even more wonderful than they could. I know myself rather well, and I can easily leave out all of my faults. (I am also my worst critic, and could just as easily inform them of my flaws, if requested.) So what is the point if everyone sends in wonderful letters of recommendation? Shouldn't they ask for specifics, like a letter describing how you utilize your strengths, and another specifying your weaknesses so they know exactly what they are getting? Also I'm torn as to whom to ask. Would it look better if I had a person from a distinguished profession write about me? Should they have known me my whole life and thus formed a long-standing impression of me? Or would it be better if they have barely known me but already discovered my wonderfulness? I seriously think my parents could write a very well-written, overly-observant and equally positive and negative strength-sharing letter. Not to mention my husband and children. Do I call up someone out of the blue from one of my past lives and beg for a letter? What do you recommend?

{Magic}

I believe in magic.

I went to magic school as a child, and pride myself in my ability to perform small, unbelievable tricks. Motherhood is one such trick. Full of magic, and indescribable feats, motherhood can render one speechless and awestruck. This time of year is especially magical, and as the mother in my home, I am responsible for catering much of this magic. Early morning devotionals, opportunities for service, and yes even the belief in elves big and small all stem from mother.

Magic takes time. It takes practice and skill. And it can be both exhausting and fulfilling.

In the midst of mothering and mayhem, remember to make magic. Those are the moments that will one day make up our memories. The thrill and excitement of giving in secret, the joy and delight when given a gift... this season offers so many magical blessings and life lessons. I hope they will be passed on to my children... and then for generations to come.

Excuse my disappearing act. I hope to record more of the magical moments.