What goes around….. Comes around!!!

Once upon a time, there was a family.  It was such an overwhelmingly large family, it was often referred to as “the pile”. 

This family – this pile of people converged every year on Grandma and Grandpa’s farm.  No matter how near or far they lived – almost all of the family was able to find a way back home to spend the week of the 4th of July week in Hartsville, SC.

                          Hartsville, SC  1984

We spent the week on the tire swing that hung over the creek, throwing lighted bottle rockets into the small pond – just to see the stunned fish float, swimming at Grandpa’s country club pool (until they told us we had far too many people), taking turns riding on what I remember to be a disk harrow behind Grandpa’s tractor.  We slept wherever we could find a piece of carpet, shared two bathrooms, hid our wet clothing (from the creek) from our mothers and sometimes…..  just sometimes in the dark of night…. when the corn was tall and the moon was hidden…..  Yeah.  I’d better stop there.  I’ll just venture to say that our pile may have started out on the smaller side, but ended up with something like 60+ grandchildren and 6 sets of parents! 

I had only one girl cousin my age.  The rest were all boys.  That meant Marlowe and I were fast cousin friends.  Truly, had either of us have been given an option, we would have chosen to leave our respective families and take turns staying at each other’s homes.  For life. 

There were years our families lived far apart and we only saw each other once a year.  There were years that our fathers were both in Chiropractic college and we lived within (lengthy) walking distance of each other. 

Our families lived about 2 hours apart when both families “settled”.  I was twelve, Marlowe was 11.  We were in the same stake at church and therefore were able to see each other at Youth activities, Youth conferences, and girls camp.  Ohhhhhh girl’s camp.  With my favorite cousin ever.  I should just say  that once again…  sometimes in the dark of the night….. when the other campers were sleeping… and the moon was dark……  Yeah, we came up with some awesome good ideas….. and rarely got caught!!! 

I left for College in 1989.  Marlowe was finishing up high school.  I spent the year at BYU, found a good looking guy and married that summer.  The next year when Marlowe came to BYU, I was delighted to be able to see her again.  This is where I feel sorry for Bob.  Poor man.  He thought, all the way from June to August that he had married an unusually mature 18 year old who was set on getting an education and having children. 

But when Marlowe came to BYU, Bob was treated to a dose of the real me.  Marlowe and I would stay up late at our apartment giggling, telling stories and sometimes leaning out of the apartment window to yell to (at) passers by.  Bob would simply look mortified and watch television.  Heaven forbid he should leave the apartment with us.  He learned that lesson way too quickly!

I may have encouraged Marlowe to attend some of my college classes with me.  They are BIG classes.  Nobody would ever know she was not registered…. right?   Until she got to giggling and pretending that she was my DEAF cousin!!!  Try keeping a straight face when your “deaf” cousin is hollering to you in less than perfect english, pretending to struggle to understand the teachers!!! 

My favorite memory with Marlowe at BYU, though, has got to be my “teaching children music” class.  Marlowe had no classes at that time of day and came with me often.  It was entertaining.  Half the class got to pretend to be children (very, very difficult, I tell you), and the other half would “teach”.

One day Marlowe happened to be in the class on a test day.  Imagine our delight when we settled on the name she should use on her test.  We looked up the name of the head honcho of the music department and used that!!!  The next class period, the teacher fairly did a wiggy-jiggy dance trying to figure out who had falsified a test!!!!

Let me skip a few years….  I had 2 children, was expecting my 3rd, and lived about 30 minutes south of BYU.  Marlowe and her husband were expecting their first and her husband was just finishing BYU.  We were somehow able to talk our resistant husbands into taking us to TWELVE WEEKS of Bradley Childbirth Classes.  I can’t remember how we bribed them, but that was a LONG series of classes!!!

I was due mid February.  Marlowe was due mid march.  We had it all planned.  I would hold my baby in, and she would rush her baby out.  We would share a hospital room.  The planning was so very much fun.  Until February 12th rolled around and my baby girl decided she was fully cooked.  Those childbirth classes had not taught me how to hold a baby in…. only how to be crazy and use no medication for the delivery. 

Marlowe’s class apparently did work on getting the baby here early.  Her baby girl was born in the first week of March.  The girls weighed exactly the same. 

We were delighted!!!

Doesn’t Bob look so very pleased to be “caught in the middle?”

Today I am still in the same location – south of BYU.  Marlowe and her family are in Colorado.  We see each other much less often than we would like.  Our visits over the last 8 or 10 years consist of a huge family gatherings where everyone is trying to visit with everyone else, or a night spent with her family in Colorado as my family makes its way back East to see even more family. 

Last year, Marlowe sent her daughter, Celia to BYU for a week of Especially for Youth.  We were able to kidnap her for one night beforehand and keep her overnight.  We made midnight cookies, told stories and had a good time.  I told her that NEXT year (this year) she needed to stay at least another day! 

This year, the travel was booked to include Saturday afternoon AND Sunday.  We were delighted.  Also, we got the privilege of being reintroduced to Christain (2 years younger), whom we had not gotten much interaction with over the years. 

Celia’s only request was midnight cookies again.  Soooooo….  I took them (with my girls their ages) to Lowe’s Extreme Air Sports, to play on the awesome trampolines for a few hours, then drove them to our house where they played on the trampoline, on the swings and scooters in the basement, rode bikes and generally hung out. 

On Sunday, after church I pulled out the old scrapbooks and decided we needed some “now” and “then” photos.  It was a ridiculous amount of fun, and they were SUCH good sports!!!!!

We did make some midnight cookies.  Also, the night WAS very dark…..  The neighbors were all asleep……  How could I NOT teach these kids about the ways of Grandpa’s farm….  The many ways that cousins can have fun…..  And not get caught!!!!!

Next year, we are demanding a full WEEK of cousin time!!!!!!

Home

A few days ago, I read a blog post by one of my sisters, Cindy.  She was writing about the fact that she is still missing her home in North Carolina, even though it has been a full year since her family moved to Oregon.

 http://crayzdaze.blogspot.com/2013/05/yep-still-talking-and-blogging-about.html



As I reread the post today, I could only think “of COURSE she still misses it.

It is her HOME!!!”

It got me to thinking about the game that my younger sister, Laila,  and I have played for the past few years.  You see, Laila lived on the East coast as well for a few years.  We saw each other once a year, maybe twice if we were lucky. 


A few years ago, Laila moved to Utah.  She is about an hour and a half from me and we see each other much more often, though not as often as we would both like. 



Having twins as her 4th and 5th children has not helped us see each other more, and we have developed a game in the last 2 years that goes something like this:
Laila:  Why don’t we live closer together?  Then we could hang out way more often and our kids could play!
Andra:  Yeah, that would be a great idea!  That hour and a half is a killer drive!!!!
Laila:  Why don’t you move closer to me?  Then it would not take us so long to get together
Andra:  Didn’t I tell you to move closer to ME when YOU moved to Utah?
Laila:  Yeah, but you could just move 1/2 hour NORTH of Bob’s job and you’d be the same distance from his work as you are now – then we’d be closer together!!!!!
Andra:  Nope.  Can’t.  The thought gives me hives. 

Laila recently threw a new piece into our game.   She pulled out a new weapon.  I will admit, she is good!!! 
She began sending me pictures like this: 

2,700 s.f.  30 minutes NORTH of Bob’s work
(AND only 45 minutes from Laila’s house)

To which I quickly responded with a picture like this:


3,400 s.f.  ONLY 5 minutes from my house
(AND $25,000 less!!!)

I have a very visceral response to the thought of moving out of my little farming community.  It certainly did not start this way.  21 years ago when Bob and I first looked at this house: 

If you can imagine it with a tiny tree in front, no garage, and no cute front porch…….
I HATED the idea of living in the middle of nowhere!  No store, no stoplight, no gas station, NOTHING!!! 
I desperately wanted to live in a neighborhood for the first 8 years I lived here.  I was always looking at houses, thinking of friends on the same block, wondering how soon I could move. 
One could say that subdividing our land and building a bigger home finally made me love this place that I live, but as much as I love this house, I love this PLACE more!

Cindy’s writing about North Carolina, made me wonder – what is it about this little town that makes me think of it as home?

Some people are fortunate enough to live in one town, one community, or even one state for their entire life!  We did not have that privilege growing up. 
I spent:
6 years in California
1 year in Arizona
4 years in Iowa
and 5 years in North Carolina
To this point I have spent (including college)  24 YEARS in Utah!  21 of those in this little town that I have come to adore. 

THIS is home.  These people that I wave to on the country roads?  These are MY people.  The people I  attend church with?  Again – MY people.   The cave up the road?  MY cave.  The orchards that bloom in the spring?  MY orchards. 
I have dug my roots deep.  I have learned to love the place where I live. 
AND I completely understand why my sister Cindy is still talking about North Carolina.

As children we put down roots. 

Repeatedly.

We made friends.

 Again and again. 

We said good bye to friends we loved.

 All too often.

We tried to fit into a new place.

 Painfully. 

I believe, if I ever had to move from my home, from the place I have grown to love, I would still be talking about it a year later too!!!!!

Why Texting and Parenting do not mix

 

 

I used to insist on a biweekly hot bath.  Somehow in the craziness of life, that was pared down to a weekly dose of relaxation in the tub with a good book.  When we built this new home, I did a lot of research (thank you to my sister Cindy, who is also a fan of long hot soaks) on the PERFECT bathtub. 

 

Now I own the perfect  non jetted tub (did not want to wonder what was growing in those jets), 8 children, a part time job and I am LUCKY if I get to soak and read once a month. 

 

Last night I was tired enough and lucky enough that all the start aligned.  Dinner was done early, then children were in bed, and Bob – bless his heart was in a class learning more about Diesel Engines. 

 

Five minutes into my very interesting novel, I noticed the dog (directly outside of my bathtub window) was barking.   I noticed again, repeatedly, for the next 45 minutes. 

 

In a moment of desperation, I let my hands and arms dry, reached far outside of the bathtub and picked up the cell phone I had left laying on the floor and began texting my children.  The 18 year old – sitting in the family room on the couch playing computer….. The 16 year old…. sitting in the family room, at the computer desk, watching a movie on netflix …. and the 14 year old – on the couch, sick for the 3rd day, on  a laptop – trying to forget her misery. 

 

I was SO proud of myself!!!  I was learning to use technology to make my life easier!  I was totally in the modern age of parenting now!   So what if it took 3 or 4 very pointed texts….  The dog finally got fed!!!

 

 

 

Notice, if you will, that I mentioned 3 children in the family room…… Unfortunately I have two texting numbers for the 14 year old.  Which should have made me worried.  But did not as my book was so amazing.

 

Until I began to get these replies:

 

At this point, the woman who has run from her abusive husband begins to loose my attention as my mind begins to wonder why my 14 year old is still hassling me.  And then slowly (very very slowly) a small though began to creep in.  What if it was, indeed, NOT Savannah’s texting number?????

 

 

And THAT is how you end up in the bathtub at almost 10:00 at night, laughing until you have tears streaming down your face.  Turns out I MAY not be so great at this parenting thru technology thing, but I am REALLY good at comic relief!!! 

 

 

Just the thought of some poor random teen receiving a random, rambling string of posts spaced just minutes apart…..  Talking about electrocuting the family dog…..  Yeah.  I’m still laughing!!!!

Identity Crisis

 

Recently, Bob and I took a much needed vacation away from our children.  Really, we bought two plane tickets and flew to Missouri to pick up a Natural Gas Van for our family.  But it felt like a much needed vacation! 

As we flew, talked, and drove, I tried to explain to Bob that sometimes, when I am out without my children I feel somewhat lost and find myself throwing them into my conversations with strangers. 

I would feel strange about this, but I remember my own father telling the checker in the grocery store “yes, these are all my children, but these are not ALL of my children”.  I also remember him walking up to a stranger, my mother on his arm saying something like “let me introduce you to the mother of my 10 children.  She doesn’t look like she has had 10 children, does she?”

As I tried to explain to Bob about my need to let people know about my 8 children, I began to tell him that sometimes, when I am out in a crowd by myself, I feel – almost lost.  I walk around thinking “Nobody even knows who I am!  Nobody knows that I have left such important treasures at home.  Nobody has any idea that I spend 90% of my time with the people I adore”

Bob is out in the working world.  He did not seem to understand that my identity is tied to my children.  Tied to the work I do day in and day out.  Tied to the fevered brows that I wipe, the clothes that I  fold, the food that I cook. 

Jokingly, I explained that I should tattoo my children’s pictures on my arms so that everywhere I go, people will KNOW!  People will be able to SEE what is truly important to me.  That way everybody will know who I really am, and what I really value. 

And in that instant, I had a flash of understanding.  A sudden knowledge that my Savior feels the same way about ALL  of us! 

The scripture came to mind:  Isaiah 49:16

16 Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands;

Suddenly the scripture takes on all new meaning, a different sort of clarity.   Could it be that my Savior  is so willing to carry those marks on his hands, because it means that people will know who HE is and what he values? 

Knowing that HE died for me, died for ALL of us, I am so happy to know that he loves me enough to carry me with him always. 

 

 

Never A Dull moment - Especially with 911 available to Everyone with a great imagination!

I cannot begin to describe the feeling of unreality - coming out of a 10 minute trip into the grocery store and finding not ONE, but TWO police cars blocking my van into it's parking space!!!!

Bob had gone to put the cart away, I assumed somebody somewhere was getting a ticket and hopped in the passengers door.  
Officer Friendly walked right up to the Drivers side window, so I leaned across, rolled it down and tried to sound normal as I said hello.  

The Officer craned his head around, glancing past the empty drivers seat to the pile of children who were gratefully sitting, still buckled, looking from him, to the movie playing on the small tv screen.  

He looked chagrined for a moment and then asked if we had anybody in chains.  I was sure I had not heard quite right.  "Excuse me???" I said.  Then I swiveled around again and said "Kids, this nice officer wants to see all of your hands so he can know none of you are in chains.  The kids, intent on a fun part of the movie slowly raised their hands in to the air - the sheer  ridiculousness of the command lost on their tv watching brains.  

I looked back to the officer,  partly curious, and partly upset.  "She if 15", I said pointing to our oldest daughter - sitting just behind me.  "We left her in charge for ten minutes to go get chips and ice cream.  We left the van running, a/c on, AND a movie"  Did we do something wrong????"

Officer friendly looked again at the happy well behaved children and shook his head slowly.  He said "We had a report of a vanload of abandoned children - the caller told us one child put their hand out the window and it was in chains."

I had a hard time even imagining the 911 call.  "Hurry, there's this HUGE white van in the store parking lot....  It is packed FULL of children and they are all in CHAINS!!!!!!!"

Just as I was about to get testy, thinking about how nice it is to live in a much smaller town than the one we were visiting - a town where people are not so quick to point a very strange accusatory finger..... I happened to look on the floor by my 8 year old's feet.  

There they were....  The plastic handcuffs from the dollar store....  Purchased just yesterday - one pair for each of the 4 younger boys...... Good for cops and robbers, good for nerf wars, and apparently good for making people think we are smuggling children across the boarder? 

I picked them up, dangled them in front of the officer and said "I think I may have figured it out".  He began to chuckle, apologized and got ready to go on his way.  All I could do was laugh and tell him that Bob and I had WON!  We had been given the BEST parenting story EVER!!!!! 

Word to the wise.....  Maybe a conversation with children about what NOT to dangle out the window of a 15 passenger van......  Of course then you will never get an AWESOME story like this one!!!!!

In each of us.... She is there

My mother told me frequently (mostly when I was angry with any of my 9 siblings) that she had given me the GREATEST gift. 

I, true to child form, would roll my eyes and mouth the words as she said them.  “I have given you a lot of brothers and sisters.  One day you will know that they are your greatest gift”

She was so very, very right.  My siblings are priceless, irreplaceable, unique.  They are the people with whom I share tendencies, memories, tastes and distastes.  With these people, I can reminisce, anticipate, and even quote verbatim random bits of our history. 


I was once told that it was irresponsible for parents to have more children than they could support.  All I could think during that conversation was “My parents would have only had two children”. Instead, they had 10 of us.  As they did this, they worked their fingers to the bone, making sure we had enough to survive on  - even if was grits and eggs, Pb&j, and soup from home canned veggies for an entire year. 

I can never thank them enough for giving me 9 of my favorite people in the whole world. 

14 years ago, our mother found out she had cancer in the linings of her lungs.  I assured myself that she would be fine, that our combined faith could keep her with us.  I was wrong.  Whatever work she was needed for in Heaven must have been very important.  She died 4 months later.  

All of us were affected in different ways, but for my 3 sisters and I, there was a large, jagged, gaping hole.  For she was one of us.  We girls would sit up late and talk and giggle.  We would get “tickled” or “slap happy” and laugh until tears ran down our faces with mom.  We were not sure how to continue that without her. 

I have absolutely no memory of how we first decided to have a Sisters Night Out.  It was shortly after Mom’s death.  We got a hotel at a random Park City, UT hotel, left or hubbies and our babies and went.  We sat in the room and talked, we sat in the hot tub and talked, we swam in the pool and laughed, we stayed up late and got “tickled” until tears ran down our cheeks.  We shopped in Park City and thoroughly enjoyed being together. 


And somehow, in that room, with the three of us, she was there.  The best parts of our mother were there  - inside of all of us. 

And through the years, our brothers  have brought us additional gifts.  Sisters in Law!  These girls may well have felt as if they were walking straight in to the Lion’s Den, when we invited them to join us.  Each year, most of us have been able to come to at least a part of Sisters night out. 



One year, Val and his family even drove out from Kentucky to let Jeannie spend sister time with us.  We ended up having Val with us for part of the time too, and had to dub him an honorary sister – we saw him so infrequently, it was painful to NOT visit with him too!!!

One year, we decided to return the favor and TAKE Sisters night to Kentucky.  We stayed in a hotel there and hit KY yard sales for fun.  Besides the port – a – potty that one sister bought (which housed an unpleasant surprise way down deep), it was an entirely pleasant experience!

One year, MANY of us had babies who ranged in age from 6 months to only a few weeks.  We stayed at al VERY local hotel, had massages, and enlisted our husband’s help in trading off nursing babies for free time. 



There have been pregnancies (including one triplet AND one twin), babies along for shopping trips and shushing in the middle of the night.  There was even a year of one older baby throwing up spaghetti o’s into an aunt’s surprised mouth!!!!!

And ever year, no matter how many of the sisters, now matter the length of time they are able to stay, no matter if we are just talking in an elevator (and forgetting to push any of the buttons), Every year She is there.  She is in the laughter.  She is in the voices.  She is lazily swimming across the pool, listening to her girls make crazy dolphin sounds at each other.  She is the one beam of sunlight streaming through the upper window – as two sisters vie for the warmth, faces upturned.  She is the calm behind the words that come when one sister speaks of a hard time, and another has the privilege to comfort. 

My mother did, indeed, give me the best gift.  

Happily Ever After

 

       My mother used to tell stories of being the 2nd oldest of seven children. 

Her mother was often ill, only feeling truly well when she was expecting another baby. 

As one of the oldest children, she helped to carry the responsibilities of cooking and cleaning

And said that often, she would pretend that she was Cinderella. 

She had such a good attitude, and I think it was her imagination that allowed her to do her work and truly enjoy the time spent serving her family. 

This week, I was able to visit what is left of my mother’s childhood home.  Apparently, the original part of the home was over 100 years old.  The part that remains today is the addition, the part that did not burn down, from what I understand. 

It is not large, it is not beautiful, but to me it is incredible.  As we walked toward it, I had the feeling that this must have been what Sleeping Beauty’s cottage looked like while she waited for Prince Charming. 

 

 

Surrounded by Rhododendron trees growing flowers in the first week of March

that were as big as my entire hand!

 

 

 

 

 

Hard to resist a beautiful Fairyland of leaves and flowers

and in my heart

I know my mother grew up feeling the same about the

beauty around her. 

 

Sleeping Beauty’s castle would have also been surrounded by brambles, by thorns…….

 

And I cannot help but wonder if these twisty vines hung around the old home when she lived there.  They are so unique, so wild in their beauty. 

And though the house itself was small, old, and used to store odds and ends……

I was so happy to be able to visit the place where my mother grew up

So happy to have a mental picture to put with the stories she told

of when she was young.

So grateful she shared stories with us, shared her life with us, helped us to become the people we are today.

She may have been Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty

only in her mind…..

but to us, to her children -

She is a fairy tale hero

Brave, Happy, Beautiful.

 

I am so grateful. 

To the girl who used to practice at being a Princess

though she had only two dresses to her name

 

To the girl who was kind to everyone around her

though she had little else to give

 

To the girl who took a chance and listened to the message

of the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ

 

To the girl who was willing to leave home and family

travel across the country

looking for Prince Charming

 

So that one day

They could live……

 

Happily Ever After