Heavy and Light

DH and I had a rare treat this weekend. We left the kidlets in the capable care of MIL and my aunt Debbie and we flew to Kauai for a few days. It was a Bar convention, so DH had continuing education classes to attend in the morning, which, by virtue of my license being inactive, I didn't have to attend. But for the rest of the time (and all the time for me) we had sun, sand, and glorious island scenery to take in. It doesn't take much to impress me either, a few days to hang out and be a grown up without being at the beck and call of my dear ones is a vacation for me, even when the scenery isn't glorious. This was a rare treat. The last time we went to any Hawaiian island, CW was 1 and we went to Maui and we called it our honeymoon, since we'd never really had one--getting married mid law school like we did. This trip was much shorter, with its own limitations, but in its own way quite effortless.

Meanwhile, back at home, dearly loved ward members were giving birth to a baby who would be whisked into open heart surgery to have two of his valves swapped out. Other dearly loved ward members continue their battles with troubles from RA and kidney failure to financial reversals and job losses. Mortality seemingly has no end of ways in which to test and try us. I suppose because I was sitting in a lovely hotel listening to the sounds of the ocean while checking into FB to see whether this cute newborn baby responded well to his surgery and how he has fared each day this first week of his life that the juxtaposition of things seemed in sharp relief for me. I know there are ebbs and flows to everything. I know we need the times of lightness to gather strength and energy in reserve for the times of heaviness that will come. I'm trying to see this time of lightness and embrace it for the glittering treasure it is instead of bemoan its lack when it's gone, especially when others regale me with talk of their fabulous vacations and I am stuck in the thick of thin things. I'm trying.

It was a lovely weekend.

The Great CW is Eight!

What a big day we had! On Saturday, CW turned eight and celebrated with family first at his own baptism and then in our backyard for cake, ice cream, swimming and barbecue. We played with cousins, grandparents, aunts and uncles. It was a lovely day and a grand way to usher in the eighth year of such a great kid. The cake posed some problems, however, because CW couldn't make up his mind. We went through three different ideas before he settled on the race track above. Eventually it occurred to me that his rolling indecision may have had something to do with the Cake Boss reruns playing in the family room. Miraculously, once the TV went off, we were able to settle on a theme and move forward.



It is a continuing marvel to me as my children age and make the choice to be baptized. Not that they make the decision, but how much their brains and spirits and entire aspects change in the months leading up to this auspicious beginning of a disciple's life. Being baptized at eight is an inspired thing. Guile begins to change things and the world seems to have more access, more cachet than it used to. Without making the decision to be baptized, my sweet CW wouldn't be entitled to the gift of the Holy Ghost he (and all of us) so desperately need to be able to make the better choice in the swirling array of options that beset him.

It was difficult to see such a wonderful day end. We were able to surround CW with loved ones on his special day.


We were able to have tons of cousin fun in the pool.



But all good days must eventually end.

Since this was a special year, CW also got a friend party today, the day after school ended for the year. 14 eight year old boys in our pool for 3 hours. They all had a blast.



And the rest of us survived :) And now, on with the wonder of summer!

Lunch with Friends

Today I went to Nordstrom Cafe with Bam and M. We met up with this friend who was in town for less than twenty-four hours in the midst of some wicked crazy traveling she's been doing. Our lives could not be more different.

Patty is single, lives in the East Village in New York City (when she's not traveling the globe) and works in the high powered world of multi-national companies. I retired my lawyer shoes three years ago to work full time with the bedlamites whose antics color this blog. I rarely travel and never for business, except that my family IS my business, so I guess I always and only travel for business.

Patty was kind and dear with Bam and M, listening about pre-school graduation, favorite colors and hero factory bionicles. She actually ate the strawberry M handed her with her grimy fingers (she'd just eaten a brownie). She endured the unfortunate way smallish children sometimes treat furniture as their own private jungle gyms and laughed at how M kept wanting to go up and down "exavators"--and when she did, looking like she was surfing a wicked wave.

I got to hear about Patty's recent trips to Paris and Rome, to commiserate with her about too much travel, too many travel bugs and too much time spent nowhere near her own home. She showed us a picture of her darling niece, who M asked about the remainder of the afternoon, despite me explaining that L lives in Chicago. She then kept asking why L is in Soucago. Why indeed.

At one point, I muttered about the varmints who wake me in the middle of the night with their bladder needs and fears. Patty said, "yeah, but that's kind of part of the whole deal, isn't it?" and then she asked me if I was having fun, despite all of it. I know she would love nothing more than to find her own special someone and have a little bedlamite or two, but those cards have yet to be dealt her way.

Sometimes I joke about the things I never would have imagined myself saying, the "rules" I have to articulate (No lawnmowers in the kitchen, no sitting on your sister's face, no flashlights in the microwave, etc.) But my life is more or less exactly how I always wanted, even though I always imagined this life involving more sleep. I am richly blessed with a husband who loves me, who loves the Lord, who has a job that provides for our family's needs sufficiently so I can stay home chasing bionicles and Barbies, Harry Potter legos and Polly Pockets. I get to spend my time feeding the hungry and clothing the naked (although why in the scriptures does it never mention that these sort will ALWAYS be hungry, and might prefer to be naked?) Some days it seems that my day is filled with Sisyphean tasks that no one notices, that may not even matter. But really, I know that I am doing the most weighty things possible. I am teaching, molding, loving and shaping precious, insane and wonderful children that God trusted to my care. I am showing them the way HOME. I am giving them the tools they will need for life. What I am doing matters in terrifying ways.

And yes, Patty I am having fun.