You Missed Your Big Chance

I offered --but got no takers.

It's too late now. I'm going to go ahead and keep my oldest--he calls me "pretty mama" and cleans up the kitchen without being asked. He waters and mows the lawns, weeds the garden, and helps me put children to bed. You can't have him.

Remember I asked if anybody wanted to trade? Tough beans. I'm going to keep my Abbie. She laughs and jokes with me (and at me), she bathes the baby, sings and reads to neighbor widows, and makes killer brownies. She babysits like a pro and befriends anyone who'll let her. She's mine.

My Harry-Potter-addict also now mows the back lawn (with much praise and encouragement) and rescues lonely lizards and badgers (raccoon? we're not sure which it was). He recently pledged to check his pockets before leaving friend's and cousin's houses, and loves to give me squeeze hugs.

Millie currently sings "Twinkle, Twinkle" and "I Am Like A Star" with loud vibrato. She reads her level 1 books frequently and with pride. She does her chores obediently and quickly. And when I lay by her at night in the bed that she and Abbie share I hold her little hand and know that life can't get better than this.

Schuyler behaves very much like a two year old. His smiles and hugs are worth the effort it takes to gain his trust. He's becoming friendly with the cousins (except Jules whom he hits regularly) and throws awe-inspiring tantrums. This boy goes all out. He kisses his own "owies" and folds his arms for prayer.

My spouse of 16 years works hard to provide for this crew. He does his famous follow-up, and builds up a formidable business. He takes on the weight of the ward and has attended every one of my RS lessons (unless out of town). He leaves me notes and says it feels like Christmas when I iron his shirts (it's not just an annual occurrence but...)

So --Sorry Charley. The offer no longer stands. I'm in this thing for the long
Ha(u)ll...

(However-- if you have an interest in taking turns with laundry duty --we could still negotiate something..)

The Porch

There are some Summer evenings when ending the laughter and squeals of my children by beginning the bedtime regime -- is just too much. It is these nuggets of time that I know are fleeting.

After receiving the news that one of my Dad's childhood friends had passed away, I went up and retrieved Schuyler from his bed (he was still talking and singing to himself and his "tiger guy"), and put him in his stroller. Sam and Millie climbed off the neighbor's tramp, hopped on their scooter and bike, and joined me. Zach had been hard at his karate work for hours, but he insisted on walking with me. He said he thought I could use the company.

The wind was cool. My children surrounded me --circling in front and behind again and again. I walked briskly and breathed in the smell of rain. The sky was growing thick and lovely. I could not bring myself to go in. I sat in my red rocker that Star had painted for me. Millie brought out her blanket and filled my lap. Sam came out with a bag of grapes, and Schuyler ran back and forth laughing and yelling.

The porch became our home for a bit as we watched for the light in the bishop's office across the street to go dark. We sang nursery rhymes and primary songs as the rain began in earnest.

Porches and children, red rocking chairs and blankets --I am a pensive, but lucky girl.