Oh Boy!

I saw Zach yesterday during his lunch hour (I was at the school to drop off a lunch for Sam (don't tell his Dad or Dr. Wells that I did that). He was happy and busy with friends. He waved to me and ran over to the car to say "hello."

When he came home he got a phone call and headed into the den. He stopped to ask if it'd be alright for him to set up instant messenger or create a face book account, since he doesn't have a cell phone to text with, and he'd been assigned to work with a partner on a "Jingle."

His classmate was worried that they weren't going to be able to work together with out those afore mentioned resources. I told him that he could talk to him on the home phone (he was doing so now) and that they'd get through this. He smiled. "My mom doesn't fell good about setting up face book," he said into that archaic device.

When I returned a few minutes later he was emailing back and forth on my yahoo.
After 30 minutes, he received another phone call. He came up to ask me if he could walk up to a friend's house -- they needed to talk. (What about the phone call they'd just had?) I reminded him of his imminent piano lesson. He returned a minute later and reported that Jacob would meet him, and the two of them could walk to his lesson together.

He returned after an hour. I asked, "How'd you do at Piano?" "Good." --The phone rings. He answers. It's for him. He starts wandering while he talks. He's laughing a lot. He's smiling and making jokes. "What is this?" I wonder. He makes another joke. "This must be a girl," I decide. I don't know how I feel about this.
Another minute of his pacing and smiling and plopping down on the couch in the living room (he never goes in there).

"Hey, Zackie?"
Into the phone,"just a minute... Yeah Mom?"
"Umm what are you doing?" (Probing parental question)
He comes in the kitchen with his hand over the receiver." I have to do Spanish assignment with a partner. And I don't have face book..."
"Okay" (I say hesitantly)
To the mystery friend, "My mom says I need to hurry."

Several minutes more. I'm searching my memory for how I felt in 7th grade. I'm pretty sure I talked to some boys on the phone. Some of those boy's parents seemed kind of strict. Hmmm.

"Hey, Zach?"
Into the phone,” My mom just called me, so that means she needs my help with something --gotta go. ----Yeah---See ya tomorrow."

Back in the kitchen he sighs, "Sheesh -- this is what I call a social homework day!"
"Uh-huh" I respond. "So...who is your partner for Spanish?"
"Oh that girl I was telling you about. She sure gets distracted easily. I kept trying to get her back on track so we could finish the homework, but she could just talk for ever."

"So mom, Jacob wants to have a late night for Halloween."
I'm trying to coax SkyMax to open wide for an oatmeal/carrot combo.
"You know, Mom, Jake and I really haven't been able to spend much time together."
"Are you saying you're not going to be celebrating with the family at all?"
He smiles and shakes his head a little, "Mo-om."
"Hey -- I'm still doing baby food around here. I'm not ready for you to spend your evenings on the phone and computer and then leave us on holidays."
He laughs. "Oh, Mama --you're so funny. …So can I tell him we're on?"

Oh Boy! I can feel it coming -- this adolescence thing.
"Something's comin,' don't know when....maybe tonight, maybe tonight."

Hey! I Have a Joke!

Child development sources will tell you that it is normal for children to go through a joke-telling phase. Our first experience with it began about 8 years ago, when Zach was 4. His were hard to follow, and most included a punch line with "bonked on the head."

We never seem to have completed this "humorous" phase. One child will come home with a joke or a riddle, and another will pick up on it, and we'll have days full of "Why did the monkey cross the road" jokes and variations on that theme.

It has been made made manifest to me on many occasions that having taken 4 years of High School Drama has served me well. Living with "funny" children makes me dig deep into my dramatic past:

"Hey, Mama, you wanna hear a funny joke?"
"Oh" I say with a broad smile and only a slight pause. "Yes!"

"Knock, knock"
"Who's there?"
"Isaac."
"Isaac who?"
"Ivan working on the railroad," she sings back, and laughs.

"That was a funny one!" I try on my Thespian chuckle.

"I have another one!"
"Really?"
"Yeah -- Why did the volcano get really mad and punch somebody that commed by?"
"Ooh" (I show a confused and worried face) "Why?"
"Because somebody erupted him and he was still talking and that made him really mad until they said they were sorry!" --Laugh, laugh.

From Sam:
"What do you call a skunk that goes underground?"
"Hmmm.." (I look pensive, even though I have heard this one 50 times already)"What?"

"A SKOUNDHOG!" And he laughs as hard as he did the first time he made it up.

There seems to be so much pleasure in making someone laugh at something clever --
Simple pleasures are always the best.

S0...What do you get when you cross an Agnostic with a Dyslexic and an Insomniac?
Someone who lies awake at night, wondering if there is a dog.

(This is, incidentally, the only real joke I've been able to remember for years now, but it always make me smile.)

For the Beauty Of The Earth

Is there anything, ANY THING, more glorious than a warm Autumn day?

For the past few days it has been just chilly enough to have scripture study next to the fire in the early morning, and then open the screen door and widows in the afternoon. The crickets are serenading slowly, the sound of children's voices fill the air.


The golden light coming through the windows changes the whole house. In all this glory I find myself a bit restless. I want to bask in it -- sit on the porch swing, nuzzle the baby, and sing -- and yet I have this almost haunting awareness that it won't last. And it makes me anxious.

I wish to capture it in a bottle and breathe it in, just a few whiffs at a time throughout the rest of the year. I start feeling like Emily in "Our Town" by Thorton Wilder. Every day holds so much wonder -- I can't take it all in.

How quickly all of this parenting and sistering and daughtering will pass. I want to somehow appreciate the gift of it all.

Can I have the perspective that will keep it all near -- and then allow me to let it all go?

Oh these five senses of mine! This -- my joyful Hymn of Praise!

"C" is for Cookie

One of the benefits of having grown up in the Wells household is that I was given an opportunity to enjoy cookies frequently. Mom, with her homemade reversible apron safety pinned in the back, could whip out a batch of cookies from her recipe infested cupboard door in no time.

Now you may see pros and cons to this baking fetish that festered in Gaylee. I see it as a positive thing, since I now like to bake. And while it affected my body image differently than, say, Greg or Carrie, it helped shape me into who I am today: A Cookie Connoisseur.

I know (a sixth sense, really) what to look for in a good cookie; the texture, the number of chocolate chips, whether they are over or under baked. I can even name some of the ingredients of a cookie I taste for the first time.

For you "local yokels"-- here are some places to find the best cookies in Utah Valley.

If you are craving a good Raisin Oatmeal Cookie you've got only two choices:
Kneaders and Great Harvest. The texture and size is very different, but both are excellent.

What about a good Sugar Cookie? The weight and consistency of the Pink cookies found only at the Cobblestone pizzeria are by far the best. However, they are small and a whole dollar each, so it's kind of a rip off.(Sugar cookies are hard to get right. Lots of places try but they are either too cake-like or too brittle. My neighbor, Terry, once filled a cookie jar with sugar cookies and gave it to us for Christmas. They were fantastic -- I asked her for the recipe, but she must add some secret ingredient, because hers turned out much better).

Now -- the chocolate chip cookie: Mrs. Fields had good ones, except that there were too many chips. As far as in store bakeries, only Albertson's comes close. Great Harvest are good, the Provo Bakery also offers decent ones. Honestly, with Chocolate Chip, Ginger snaps, and Snicker doodles, homemade is best('course the right recipe is a must!)

Now -- a serious warning: If you come across cookies at a craft boutique, or at, say, TJ Maxx or Ross -- don't be swindled (these are not good places for good cookies). They aren't fresh and you'll be overcharged. There is almost nothing so disappointing as paying for a flavorless cookie.

All righty then, tune in later for more about this important topic. In our next discussion we'll cover some baking necessities.

Should I Stay or Should I Go Now?

Many in the world are faced with an indecision problem.

I am not prone to that. Every single day I meet up with a variety of dilemmas and decisions. And I deal with them --head on.

For instance:
*Should I mop this morning? Nah -- it will just get sticky and messy anyway.

*Read to Millie or to myself? --Millie --the time for cuddling will be gone too soon. (Maybe I could get in a few minutes while she'd at preschool).

*It's 10am, should I sample that piece of Halloween Candy? Yeah -- it's just a "mini" Twix.

*Is play doh a good choice today? Sure -- the floor is grody anyway (see?)

*"Word World" or "Clifford"? "Word World" every time. (That will give me a half hour to get ready for the day since Barbies were a higher priority earlier).

*Is today a good day clean the car? Yep -- Millie just threw me an open bag of movie popcorn while I'm driving ("Oops. Sorry Mama!"). We'll just pull into the car wash right now (Sonic has free vacuums).

*It's 1pm, should I try that Kit Kat hidden in my closet? Yes -- it will help my blood sugar levels. (I'm not working on "Body For Life" right now -- just "Body for Halloween.")

*The baby is down for a rest, the others are at school. Should I read or clean up? --Arggh -- clean (I know I'll be happier to have it done in the end).

*I'm at Savers thrift store scouting for Halloween accessories. Should I take a quick peak down the children's book aisle? Yes -- One can never have too many picture books.

*The children will be finished with school soon. Should I read or mop? Mop (with a mini Heath bar in my mouth).

*Is today the day I'm going to decide what to call my youngest child on a regular basis? No-- Not today.


It is apparent, I'm sure, that while there are many sick and afflicted (mentally and otherwise), I am not. Not today.

Wit and Whim

The phone rings. Caller ID says: Timpanogos Academy (de ja vu to you? Me too)

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mama."(I can hear the smile in her voice)

"Well Hello, Abigaylee."

"I hope you're not going to blog about this one too." (And so I must -- that rebel in me resurfaces)

"Oh Yeah?" I respond laughing. She's got me and I know it.

"Yeah. There was a paper that I was supposed to have you sign. Since you didn't...

"Did you show it to me?"

"No." She laughs. "But since you didn't, it's a requirement that I call you. I can just leave it out in my cubby for you."

"What happens if you just bring it in tomorrow?"

"I won't get class money."

--Thoughful pause on my end. Should I rescue her? Maybe I ought to make a mad dash for my Love, Limits, and Latitudes book by Dr. Gawain Wells.

"Mom?"

"Humm?"

(The voice smile has returned) "You should probably re-evaluate you list of to-dos and get to work."

 



That gets me laughing. I'm sure Dr. Wells would agree that a child with wit needs extra points.

--Got to run to the school. There's silly paper for me to sign in someone's cubby.

The Bishop's Wife

Remember Loretta Young? She was demure, graceful...as awe-inspiring as Cary Grant was suave and debonair

Not every bishop's wife is like that. We have a 9am church schedule. That means that the routine I had worked out for 4 children to arrive on time for our 11am schedule is not working for the 5 children by 9am. I have tried a variety of tactics. Not many have met with success. However, we've only been at this since September. I have full faith that we'll meet up with that success at some point.

Our good bishop is, surprisingly, not as full of that same faith. He taken to calling me to repentance. He has bribed the children and me. He has begun making a Sat. night "we can be on time tomorrow" pep talk (Who is WE? I ask). This morning he set his alarm for 5am, got up and readied himself for his early meetings. Then at 6am, his alarm went off again. I heard it, saw that the bathroom light was on, and waited for him to take care of it. He was slow in coming. He appeared when I had stretched myself across the bed to shut that annoyance off. Just as I did -- mine began buzzing. "Oh, Stef! What a good girl! I appreciate that you'd plan ahead to get yourself completely ready for church before the children are up" he said. I laughed -- I had not set my alarm at all. What a sneaky bishop the Lindon 5th Ward has.

Want to know something crazy? As I slid out of bed onto my knees and turned on the little fireplace, I was reminded of another bishop's wife that used to pray right where I was praying. And I realized that there were a host of other women around the world that were doing the best they could, to do what they could, to make yet another Sabbath Day Holy for their families -- without help from their spouse.

I had an entire 45 minutes to myself, listening to beautiful music, and getting ready before the children emerged and the chaos took over (it has been a long time since I have had that kind of quiet).

I might even call it "awe-inspiring."