Independence Day Fun

We celebrated the Fourth by hanging out with friends. First, we ate a yummy dinner with the families of some of Caleb’s closest friends. No pictures there but we met new people and got to see Caleb in his native environment, lol. 

Afterwards, we came home and popped off a bunch of small fireworks with a few of our neighbors. We are really blessed with great families nearby! In fact, while we were busy making noise and light, our next door neighbor came over with a bowl of sweet, cold, sliced watermelon for the kids, which somehow was the cherry on top of our Fourth. 

Happy birthday, America! We are grateful to be a part of you, and to have the freedoms that don’t come free. 

Hot Dogs & S'mores!

We entertained ourselves with a backyard cookout last week. The little ones really, really, really wanted to roast marshmallows and hot dogs after they saw Daddy burning some brush. We had to wait for the weekly grocery store adventure, and then voila! See if you can spot the elusive Sariah creature. She was ... elusive.

Apparently, we have all been eating our hot dogs the wrong way. Per Madeline's fine example, we should approach eating our hot dogs as if they are corn on the cob. I was fascinated.

And then there was the Thor incident. Our boys were quite pleased with themselves for recreating a scene from Endgame. Caleb will probably kill me if he sees this published ... but since I'm not on Facebook right now, no one will see it, right?

And more Madeline cuteness. IBC root beer for the win, and yummy s'mores smeared all about! Success!

Sweet Girl

And when you still have long eyelashes when you are nearly 5. Mom is a bit envious, truth be told.

From Saturday

When you get donuts on Saturday morning for sleeping in your very own bed, all night long, every night.

Bakers

Today Madeline and I entertained ourselves by making cookies. Technically, we made the dough yesterday, but we ran out of time, so shapes today, which she picked out all by herself. She was so thrilled, because all the siblings were banned to elsewhere, so it was her very own project. They tasted good, too!

Corona Chronicles

I'm participating in a little health challenge thingy, and we needed to write an entry in our very own "Corona Chronicles" this week as a part of a journaling challenge. I like mine so much I decided to put it here.

May 5, 2020

Tracy

Coronavirus quarantine 2020 has been and done many things for me and my family. 

I’m gonna be honest. I am a bit of an introvert. I generally prefer one-on-one personal interactions with others over any form of multi-person interaction. So staying at home rarely bothers me, even with the looming anxiety of a potentially deadly pandemic. I enjoy the less frantic pace of life. My heart smiles to see my little ones play with each other outside for hours on end. I love that my teenage sons and I have time to play games or binge watch TV shows and movie marathons together. Somehow bedtime is less of a fight each night, and getting up in the morning isn’t a battle either.  And I am grateful.

It isn’t sunshine and roses all the time. There is more warfare over online assignments than there ever was over school before the shutdowns. Sometimes the part of me that longs for alone-ness wants to throw a tantrum over the complete lack of alone-ness in our home right now. Little ones and big ones get bored. On some days, it feels like 12 hours have gone by since sunrise and it’s only noon—NOON!!! In general, these are temporary problems, and not very big ones at that. And I am grateful.

Once I quit obsessing over the news and social media, and I began to bounce back from that little self-inflicted, depression-inducing state, I am left with time to ponder whatever occurs to me.

What I’m currently attempting to puzzle through is the "sandwich generation.” Or, more accurately, how I’m going to survive being a part of it. My husband and I are both in our 40s. We have 7 children, 5 of whom are still at home. The youngest is 4 years old. My husband’s aging mother moved in with us about 7 years ago and will likely live with us permanently. That puts us squarely in the middle of sandwiching—supporting children who are at varying degrees of independence whilst dealing with the ever-increasing needs of a rising senior citizen.

On most days, usually by mid-morning, I decide sandwiching is not something I am cut out for.  I frequently wonder what the freak we were thinking in having so many kids and inviting one of our mothers, bless both their hearts, to live with us 24/7, even though we were prompted to invite each and every one of these people into our home. Which is all fine and dandy, but the daily reality remains. Before quarantine, I didn’t think about it very often (not enough time while I was running around to put out one fire and then the next?), but now it has become an omnipresent issue, and not just for me.

I am a “natural man” working on becoming a saint. That means that I know I haven’t reached grateful for this particular stage in my life yet, but I’m working on it … on most days anyway.

Under these circumstances, “self-care” is a word that could potentially initiate hysterical laughter on my part. Social media would have me believe that I should now have much more time for self-care and self-improvement. Again: laughable in my present reality.

But. 

King Limhi’s words always come around to me in times likes these: “yet I trust there remaineth an effectual struggle to be made” (Mosiah 7:18). It’s the story of my life. Oh, make no mistake, before I decide the struggle must still be made, there is much weeping and wailing and gnashing of my teeth, because again, this natural man hasn’t achieved sainthood yet.

But.

This is why I continue to participate in health challenges like this one, even knowing that with 8 dependents and 2 chronic diseases of my own and no sainthood on the near horizon, perfection is most definitely a long shot. I’m not going to win the gold medal, but I am going to do what I can, give myself grace for the rest, and rely on the Savior’s grace most of all. My little steps are something my Savior can make into something great. There is still an effectual struggle to be made, and right now coronavirus has given me the gift of time to tackle it. And for that I am grateful.

Danger!

So I walked by my living room yesterday morning, and this is what I saw. I was a bit concerned for Christ's safety. I relocated my statue, but I was subsequently asked if he would rise again the third day if he fell and broke. And it was noted that he might have been blessing their track. Oh dear. Good thing I have a best friend to make me laugh.

Jaws

On Sunday, I regaled my children with a childhood trip to Universal Studios.

We were initially discussing superheroes, and how I wasn't really in love with any when I was growing up. I thought Superman was handsome, I said, but after learning how they made him fly at Universal Studios, I was less impressed. Meh.

Then I laughed. Because Jaws, too, was at Universal Studios. And I. Was. Terrified. I distinctly remember feeling utterly panic-stricken. And screaming. And apparently I leapt over all the other people in the boat to get to the middle and away from Jaws after he jumped up right next to me (I swear!!!).

Mom sent me the only pictures she has from this particular adventure, and really, I'm still surprised that she even has this much, given how I reacted.

I have always loved listening to my dad tell this story. His laugh makes my heart smile.

Sariah is sitting next to me right now, laughing at poor Jaws. She says that he looks surprised, not scary, and that his eyes are weird. She may have a point there. Her laugh makes my heart smile, too.