Dear Prince Myshkin . . .

I love you Prince Myshkin! This cover is very misleading. I don't even know why they put that picture on the front. It's not you. I cannot wait to settle down this evening and read about you. I love you, I love you, I love you! Jonathan is wondering what's so great about you. I told him that he'll need to read about you himself. Then he'll know that being honest and genuine leads straight to my heart. Oh Prince Myshkin, I wish more men were like you in the world! But alas, it cannot be. So many ladies go on and on about Mr. Darcy, but he's nothing compared to you. He's a very proud, disagreeable man! I'm so obsessed with you that I'm going to ask Jonathan to buy me the The Idiot TV series they made in Russia in 2003. Farewell my dear Prince!

California in my most excellent Eurovan!

Jonathan returned to Qatar last week and instead of staying in Orem, Utah all by myself, with the kids, I opted to drive to California and stay with the grandparents instead. Jonathan drove us down to California in our most excellent Eurovan in record time. We spent a day running errands before we sent him off to Doha to spend a week conducting tests to use for his research topic for his TESOL thesis. Jonathan is really really exhausted lately. He comes home and basically lives on Cheeze-its or Ritz crackers or Goldfish crackers. Of course he's droopy! Anyway, I told him his topic for the thesis was awesome and I think his proposal was genius. He prepared a three section test to give the students. They didn't have to do the tests. It was all voluntary. But since he knows the Qatari's very very well, he brought a bargaining item of great worth. He purchased the latest IPad and offered it in a raffle for those students who completed all three sections of the test. You may wonder why the Qatari's would want the latest IPad if they are so rich. Well, they can't readily get everything as fast as we can. The students performed well and he was able to return home with a bulging backpack full of tests. Yay! My advice for anyone doing a thesis in anything. . ."Don't bother doing a dumb crap thesis! If that's what you're planning then just don't bother doing anything. Give up now!" I think it would be embarrassing to do less than your best and then have someone read it five years down the road and talk to you about it. Jonathan was a bit drained when thinking about going the extra mile, I mean the extra 8,077 miles to get a decent thesis done. I think he's happy about it now. Meanwhile, he was missing a lot of super charged energy in the form of four little boys. The one girl isn't super charged. She's calm and sweet.
The first day Jonathan was gone it rained. But by Monday when it cleared up, we were at the beach. My beach, aka Natural Bridges. It really is my beach though. If you don't believe me ask to see pictures. I've got some of when I was about four years old at this same beach. It is really the coolest beach ever. It's got everything. Monarch butterflies in the winter, millions of them. It's got excellent tide pools. I just love it so much that I never go anywhere else when I'm home. Maybe, just maybe, there are other cool beaches out there, but I've never had the desire to find out because I'm so happy at my beach. The kids dug a hole with Grandma Dryg and then I buried them the best I could later on. They are trapped. Can't you just feel that harnessed energy! Especially from Atticus. Sherman and Cinci just look happy. They're thinking, "Hey, we're in the sand!"
We spent a lot of time with both sets of Grandparents. Helen hasn't really had much time with my parents though since my mom just recently had a knee replacement. This was their chance to actually meet her. She doesn't say much. She kinda just sits there. I have great hopes for her though. I hope that she was watching Hector when he hit Grandpa's big screened TV several times. I hope she noticed the way Grandpa suddenly cried out, "Don't do that you little . . . ." and then fell silent. I hope she will never commit that shocking crime that her older brother committed because I just can't take it. Can I just say how much I hate TV's? I hate them so much. I'm sure every person that looks on me and my brood probably thinks the TV is my best friend. However, they are mistaken. Very mistaken. If you look at the picture below, you will notice that our most excellent Eurovan does not have a built in DVD player. And if it did, I would rip it out. (Well, maybe I wouldn't, but the strong part of me would.)Most of me tries to live in an era that is not my own. Heck, I grew up with TV. A lot of it. I used to get up early before elementary school just to watch some of my favorite cartoons. Some Saturdays were spend watching back to back taped movies. Two or three. I'm not proud of that. But I think I turned out okay. Okay. Not great. Okay. I'm starting to sound like I'm confessing a terrible sin. Funny. Well, what I really want to see in my children is friendship. I want them to interact with eachother and I don't mean fighting. So when I see my kids playing a card game in the back of the van, my heart warms and I start to hear the words, "There is beauty all around, when there's love at home . . ." in my head.
Of course this is a totally posed picture but I have to tell you that they did play several rounds of Go Fish without cheating or screaming at eachother. Cinci didn't even eat the cards. And the whole time they were learning the names of Mother Goose Nursery Rhymes. That's what the deck of cards was, titles of different nursery rhymes. Oh, it warmed the cockles of my heart! (I'm starting to sound like my Grandma.)And to clearly explain myself, I don't like TV in general because my children can't hear me when they are watching it. They also forget that they have a family or other duties in life. They become zombies. I call watching TV "Zombification". I must confess that we do not have a TV free home though. We do watch one or two movies a week and a few kids shows when needed. I don't care if they watch it sometimes. I guess I use it more as a help for me than anything else. I wait until we've done our to-do list and then they can choose a show. Then I can take a shower or cook or sit on my butt and hum. I guess TV isn't that bad after all.

Jonathan is gone again. He's off to Ohio and New York to visit schools he's considering attending. I think the TV and I are going to become friends again real soon.

Hair cuts

The words just don't flow anymore. I used to blog all the time. Now I rarely sit down at the computer unless I'm shopping for something specific. When I do sit down to blog, I stare at the screen and think too much about what I should write. Most of the time I give up after a few minutes. Tonight I should go up to my room and read Wuthering Heights and sip my cold apple juice. Not yet. I have to write about something I did today. I got a haircut at one of those hairstyling schools for "cute young gals" as my father-in-law would say. And, I correct myself, sometimes there are men who study there, and there are even young gals who aren't so cute just because they are either too colorful, too metallic, or both. My hair is very long and its getting really boring, and since I hardly ever do anything with it, I figured I should have it cut. I had the young lady trim it, give it tons of layers, and even cut some bangs. I haven't had bangs since I was in high school and that was bad. I should have remembered my elementary school years and how my bangs took the form of the northwestern quadrant of the globe. Well, I did it again except this time my bangs are all spikey and I look like a witch. There's nothing wrong with my hair. It's my face, I think. I'm not young anymore, so after this experience I have decided that next time I go in for a haircut, I'm going to chop quite a bit off. And I'm letting the bangs grow out! I don't need to look like a witch to be one. My kids know that. My back is starting to ache from sitting down so long in that salon chair. Part of it had to do with the fact that my pants are way too tight. I've still got 15 lbs. of baby weight to lose. And part of it had to do with the fact that I was sitting there for 3 and a half hours! Never again! I'm going to read my book and then fall asleep. Good night! And hopefully I won't cry literal tears during nightmares of rear-ending a car in front of me at a stoplight in Newport Beach. Very weird.

Truth vs. Price

Yesterday Jonathan and I dropped off Atticus and Sherman with some family members for a few days. We stopped at the grocery store on our way home. It was the easiest shopping trip we'd made in a very long time. We decided that since the two older kids got to stay with cousins, which is a super special treat for them, that we would indulge our third son, who felt a bit left out. He saw Mater on the back of a cereal box and really wanted to buy it. It was Apple Jacks. We've actually never bought Apple Jacks before. Well, actually I bought one box once for a friend who absolutely loves them. So, Cinci was extatic! Really eager to have some special cereal to himself the next morning.

So this morning while I'm eating my Raisin Bran and he's enjoying his Apple Jacks I'm looking at this special Cars 2 offer. You get prizes for collecting codes from participating Kellog's products. Of course they don't tell which are the participating products. I decide to check the internet site they list on the box.

Here is a list of some of their participating products: Frosted Flakes, Frosted Mini Wheats, Cocoa Crispies, Pops, Eggo, Nutri-Grain Bars, Town House Crackers, Graham Crackers, Crispix, and a few more.

As I look at this list of products sliding across the screen, here, I answer the question that a lot of foreigners have asked me. Foreigners that have never spent "real" life here. Life where they have to go grocery shopping every week and manage a budget here.

The question is, "Why are Americans so fat?"

I know why they, I mean, we are so fat. Because of these flashy offers that announce themselves so attractively at every corner. This is a country where it is cheaper to be fat than thin. This is a country where most of the population thinks that a Nutri-Grain Bar is a healthy breakfast option. It must be, right? It includes two key words. Nutri which must mean it's nutritious. And Grain, which must mean it actually came from something that grew out of the ground at one time.

As I slowly adjust to life in the States once more, I try to remind myself not to buy into the tricky sales they have here. Buy five cereal boxes for 10 dollars. What a deal! Well, it is a deal, I agree. We used to pay 28 riyal, which is about 7 dollars, in Qatar to get a box of Cheerios. What kind of deal is it really? It's a deal of endoctrination. If I feed my kids cereal every day for breakfast, they grow up thinking that it is healthy and "the" way to live.

So, off to the store I go, wary of those tricky sales. Will I be the one to teach my kids what's healthy, or will the prices do the teaching?

*This post is coming from a woman who enjoys a bowl of Lucky Charms with her husband almost every night after the kids go to bed. Please do not be offended.

Our lives passed away . . .

The blowing out of Sherman's 6 candles.

I believe the Book of Mormon is a true record of the people that lived on the American continent centuries before the arrival of Christopher Columbus. One of the men that wrote in the book was named Jacob and he states very beautifully, "And it came to pass that I, Jacob, began to be old; and the record of this people being kept on the other plates of Nephi, wherefore I conclude this record, declaring that I have written according to the best of my knowledge, by saying that the time passed away with us, and also our lives passed away like as it were unto us a dream, we being a lonesome and a solemn people, wanderers, cast out from Jerusalem, born in tribulation, in a wilderness, and hated of our brethren, which caused wars and contentions; wherefore, we did mourn out our days."
Being married to a man that is probably more passionate about history than he is about me, I have gained an appreciation for primary sources. This gorgeous writing above has always been on my list of 'poetic' verses from the scriptures. Only now has it started flashing in my memory as we prepare to move from Qatar and start afresh again. Especially the part where he mentions that his life and the lives of his people have passed like a dream. Even though six days still remain before we get on the plane, I am already starting to close my little book of Qatar 2009-11 and go to look for a place to store it on the shelves of memory. I know that whenever I pull out that book to look back, it will be "like unto me as a dream". Just like my childhood is, or my episode in Spain as a teenager, or the mission I served for 18 months in Toronto. All dreams. All shelved away.

"Time passed away," also has made me think about how time keeps moving. Last night Back to the Future was on. Michael J. Fox is a great runner, by the way, and I love the 'life preserver' vest he wears. Anyway, the playing with time that Hollywood does, and also many authors have done, really is pleasant and fascinating because time is something that we all value. Who wouldn't want just a little more time? A little more time in that moment? A little more time with that person? To see what it was like to live in that time? Etc. So, my time and your time is passing away as I write and you read this post. It will never come back and I ask myself, "What should I be doing with my time?" Jacob still speaks today for many Mormons through this record he left. Do you have a record? What would you like to leave behind after you pass on out of this world?

I keep no record. I keep a few papers here and there of my kids' drawings and writings and a few tangible memories. A written record? I guess this blog will have to qualify until I settle down in a house to call my own. And maybe my kids won't care about my record. But maybe others will. I love hearing about how my mother could buy doughnuts for a nickel when she was a kid, how she ran barefoot all day through the orchards, and how her father taught her how to plant sweet corn.

All this while, as I ponder the mysteries of time and the universe, I still enjoy these moments and try to really enjoy my children as they are. Sherman turned 6 years old today. He is a fine, generous, young man who certainly does his name justice.

All I wanna do is blog.

I can't believe I'm admitting such a shameless thing. I'm so completely exhausted right now that it feels so good to just slouch here, gulping down an icy peach juice, and type words. Knowing that in a matter of seconds they will float out into cyberspace and mesh with all the other feelings and expressions of people all over the world feels so satisfying. Maybe no one will read mine, maybe no one will read other people's words, but at least all those words will exist peacefully together. I should be making a chocolate cake from scratch and a pinata for my son's birthday party tomorrow but I can't. I just can't. My legs won't move and today was a non stop day. It was a good day, but it was non stop and I have to sit still for a while. It feels so good to sit still. I'm grateful that we are all home safe and the kids are in bed after a busy day. They went to school, learned stuff, came home and had to listen to me nag them for a while, did homework, did gymnastics tricks in the living room, went swimming at a friends house, got treated to dinner and dessert, got to watch eye glazing cartoons in Arabic while mom and dad chatted with friend, and got stuffed in the backseat with eachother while mom and dad complained about how so and so needs to stop doing this and that, etc., etc., etc. It's exhausting to be a kid. I have big plans for my kids this coming year. Some life altering plans. Plans that involve more choice and more freedom and hopefully more fun. We'll see how that goes. I feel bits of energy coming back so I'll stop blah blah blahing.

If you give a man a fish . . .

It's all so exciting I think I'm going to burst!!!!!!!! Do you ever feel like that about life and where you can make it take you? There are so many beliefs out there about life and who is in control of it. Fate. The Gods. God. You. The Government. Other people. Hollywood. I'm sure there are a million beliefs out there about it. I know I'm in charge of my own life. Yeah, God is there, he knows what is going on, and most of the time he just let's us little people figure things out on our own. That's pretty obvious if you watch the news. I'm a firm believer in choice. Free agency. Use it right, and you will be happy. You may not become a millionaire but if you keep choosing from what's available to you and choose right, you can find happiness and make others happy in the process.
Jonathan is in the US right now to present his study at a TESOL conference. I can't remember what the title of his study is, but it sounds something like "teacher modeled language learning", which means he's learned Arabic during our stay here in Doha for the purpose of helping his students understand and stop making common errors in English that stem from being a native Arabic speaker. Also, every assignment that he has assigned the students in English, he has done the same one in Arabic. I think it's a smart study and could be useful for many teachers. But will many teachers go to the effort of learning a particular second language? Obviously it's only for those teachers that teach a class that has one native language in common.
I wish language learning was more of a priority in America. I think it promotes understanding of other cultures. I think the US needs that. You may ask why since the US is very multi-cultural already. If you want to learn about any culture, you could find someone from any country in the world and talk to them about their culture. Let me rephrase, I think the world needs that. Understanding. I have trouble understanding other ladies from my own background, let alone people from another country that speak a different language.
I've been listening to some talks that were given by the leadership in the LDS church and one in particular stood out to me and has been poking at my brain throughout the day. In it, Elder Henry B. Eyring lists some principles on how to help people in need. Here is the first one:

First, all people are happier and feel more self-respect when they can provide for themselves and their family and then reach out to take care of others.

How true! It's always humbling when you know you need to take what someone is offering you or your family will suffer. But you feel grateful, and you say to yourself, when I am financially able, I will find a way to repay this good deed, either to the same person, or to someone else in need.
So, I've always wanted to volunteer to help people. So, I've thought of how I'm going to do this. Yes, I know, I know, I'm raising my own kids and if I raise them right they can contribute good things to this world and help people too. But, I want to help people.

"Give a man a fish, you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, you feed him for a lifetime."

Yeah, I can go down to the soup kitchen and ladle out some soup to the homeless people. But, I want to give someone a skill. What do I know how to do? Well, not much when it comes to teachable skills. But I can read. And that is a skill that some people don't have. So, when I move back to Provo/Orem I am going to volunteer with Project Read. It's a big commitment of time for a mother of four, but its a skill I want to share and learn. Really, teaching reading might sound easy but I'm sure it isn't. Getting someone to understand and enjoy written text must be difficult or more people would be doing it.
This desire of mine to teach people to read leads back into my earlier thoughts about the lack of understanding in the world. If people don't know how to read, they are limited on what they can understand about the world. If they are single mothers and don't know how to read, they will most likely raise children who care nothing for reading. If I can help stop this pattern in at least one family or help just one person feel better about themselves and become more marketable it will make me happy. Sounds kind of selfish, but I can get something out of it too, right?
If you could choose how to help people, what would you choose to do?

Up on the soapbox . . .

The three youngest of my battery

What do I want to teach my kiddos? Of course they'll never live the life I lived. They'll never have a dad who, when he wasn't at work, was in the kitchen cooking. They'll never have a mom who was happy and laughing all the time. They'll never have an honest job at age 11 where they make their own money and take full responsibility for it. They'll never live in the same house for their entire childhood and youth. Things will be different for them. The world will be different. Not just because we move from place to place. Even if we stayed and settled in one house, in one neighborhood, in one city, things would be different for them. This world changes as well. It feels like there isn't a place in the world where calm and serenity reign. With the uprisings in North Africa and basically all over the middle East, except the UAE and Qatar, and the natural disasters spotting the globe, there is chaos everywhere. How can I prepare my children for such a world? What do you do the prepare your children? Do you tell them, "When you grow up, get yourself a good education, a nice money making job, and stay in the USA where its safe."? Will a university education be worth anything in 20 years? What will be the money making jobs be in 20 years? Will the USA be a safe place to live in 20 years?

Both Jonathan and I are university graduates. Jonathan is going back for more. He loves it. I love it. If I were available I would go back too. And I will, when the time is right. But learning and acquiring knowledge won't always make you any money. I think we will encourage our children to go to university. I don't think I'll say anything about what job they should choose. (I know it will be hard to keep my mouth shut. But I'm going to try.) And about living in the USA, I don't want to tell them to stay there. I hope that the way we are raising them will help them to want to experience the world. To mingle with their fellow Earthlings no matter what part of the globe they live on. I hope so many things for them. I worry about this world for them. I wonder where to focus my time with them. Should I sign them up for sports, or should I teach them how to grow a garden? Should I push them to read earlier, or should I show them how to trap a squirrel? Should I show them how to maneuver a computer program, or should I teach them how to cook a meal? This world is telling me so many things to do with my kids that would prepare them for life if they were going to be adults about 5 years ago. The problem is that they are going to be adults in 15 years. The people of this world can't predict what skills are going to be essential for life in 15 years. So my inclinations lead me to a different path. A path that will prepare them for the world I can see. The patterns I see. Basically, a path that would help them survive a life amid chaos if it were to befall them. I will feel so much better as a parent if I prepare them for the worst rather than for a life of ease and consumerism. So, I'll let the schools go on teaching early reading, computer skills, and sports, and I'll take care of the rest.

So, off my soapbox now, I'm happy that there is some good news in the world every once in a while. Last night I woke up in the middle of the night and read CNN about the little Danish 3 year old who went missing for almost a whole day. I cried with happiness and cried with understanding for that mother. She'd argued with her little boy about not taking off his jacket because it was too cold. He stalked off angrily. I don't know the details but when she went to look for him he was nowhere to be found. I refuse to judge her. There are so many times I have a "moment" with my children. When they step out of sight I pray, "Please don't let this be my last moment with them." I think you reach a point in motherhood where you stop judging other moms. I admit, before I had kids I did plenty of quiet judging. Quiet planning on how my family and children would be. Well, that planning and judging has gotten quieter and quieter as the years have gone by. I have no place to judge. Yeah, I'm Christian. Judge not! is the council given, right? Sometimes, having a gaggle of children will punch that judging tendency right out of you. Did you know that a group of barracuda is called a battery? Well, maybe I shouldn't call my boys a gaggle. How about a battery of boys? That sounds better.

The 2 year plan

Time keeps moving along. I'm so grateful that my children continue to grow and thrive wherever they may be. The above picture was taken exactly two years ago when we were living in Turkey. It seems that we might be somewhere new every two years of our lives. It's almost impossible for me to acquire a mindset which permits me to think that we will live in one place or in one country forever. But it may happen. Our two years in Qatar are almost up and Jonathan has chosen to not sign on for next year. We will move forward somewhere else. We are returning to the United States for a spell, though not sure of what duration. It seems our family has a three fold mission:

1. Jonathan works.
2. Christine tries to raise the kids.
3. We pursue our dreams wherever we can also do 1 & 2.

I guess it seems like a simple mission but looking at the world today it is a lofty one for many. Work has become a blessing and very few are truly satisfied with the work they do. Raising kids can be done in many ways and the word "raising" is often taken very loosely to mean, providing for. "Raising" requires so much more. As for dreams, we follow them. Even if we can't reach them we are still moving in our efforts as we try.

So off we move in search of our dreams. In two years I'm sure we'll be somewhere else with new dreams, or perhaps the same ones.

The inevitable snuck in today

Today was the day that Atticus brought home the seven year old version of "Mom, I'm dropping out of school and moving in with my girlfriend!" news. Many of you think that what I'm about to tell you is not that bad, but if you really knew me and my husband you would realize that for us, this is it. The worst news that a seven year old could possibly bring home. Well, maybe not the worst. There is always worse stuff than what you think is the worst.

He said that he wants to go back to America and never leave again. We asked him why, because he's never said that before. He's always been excited to know where we would go next. He responded, " I just like America better because I hate, hate, hate living in a place where people speak Arabic!" And he didn't say it like he meant it either. The worst thing about his statement is that it was totally rehearsed. After he said it I said,"Now tell me who really thinks that because I know you heard it from someone at school." He said, "Michael". Should I be grateful that my child doesn't really think these things? Or should I be devastated that he tricks himself into thinking that he is the same as these other kids at school. Up until now, Atticus has never told us he hated anything. I have noticed that a lot of his friends complain a lot and use the word "hate" a lot. Well, I hate it! Because it's rubbing off on my wonderful boy who used to never complain.

He then added this. "Arabic is stupid! And you know what I hate most about it? The writing. It's just black and white and black and white." Whatever that means. I know the writing is difficult. I've taken a class myself. But again, I know he's been listening to the other Western boys in his class.

And to top it all off, guess where he goes next. "Mom, I want an X box. I mean an Indiana Jones game thing." He doesn't even know the terminology. I know he means to say "I want a Wii" but again, he's just repeating the other kids. "I also want a phone just for me to put my own games on." Does my son ever talk on the phone? I asked him that. "Yeah. I talk to Grandma and Isaiah," he responded. We had to drag him to the phone both times.(no offense to the family)

How can my son go down this path?!!!!!! Well, I wasn't really that distraught over it because I knew in my heart that he isn't that person. Later on in the day he came into our bedroom while Jonathan and I were laying on the bed, lifeless, without a speck of energy left in our bodies, and wanted to pounce on us, which is always the case when Mom and Dad are on the bed. I said, "Atticus, what would you rather have, a Wii, or a canoe and a fishing rod?" His response was, "Well, I don't want to fall in the water, so I'd rather have a boat like the one Steve has to go to the mangroves in." Whew! That was what I wanted to hear. He didn't even give the question a second thought.

I know I'm so silly for worrying about this. It's just hard to transition from being completely in charge of someone's decisions to letting them make their own choices, whether they're choosing something just to be like everybody else or not. It's a shame Atticus has to put up with all the mistakes we make as parents. Poor kiddo! I hope he pulls through okay.

Footprints in the sand

Well, maybe my family is treading too much on the earth by existing, but I still believe that this world was made to be lived on by humans. Humans that reproduce and continue existing. Sure, the world can use a few of those humans that sport North Face jackets and eat beef from grass fed cows, if any beef at all. But what if the whole world were that way? (I have a North Face hat.)

Today I took Cinci to the doctor to take a look at a nasty cut he got falling off his bike/trike. They had to cut off some excess skin and give him a tetanus shot. Not fun. But anyway, they gave me a prescription for some antibiotic cream which I did not have the pharmacist fill.

"I already have some," I thought to myself.

I'm pretty proud of the antibiotic cream that I do have. It was given to me by my sister in law, Tara. She gave it to me as a shower gift before the birth of my first baby. That was over seven years ago. I still have the same tube of Triple Anti-Biotic Ointment, Western Family brand. Can it be possible that I have given birth to four boys and have not even gone through one tube of Antibiotic ointment?

This evening Hector had diarreah for the first time. Time to pull out the Desitin. Did I have any? Nope. I've gone through my share of diaper rash cream. I can't boast that I've used less than one tube. But I was able to find this half used tube of cream that my Aunt gave me at that same shower.

It really pays to save knick knacks if you remember that you have them. It's actually a waste of money and matter to buy something that you already have somewhere else in the world. Our youngest boy, Hector, has worn pants about four times in his life. He just turned one on the 4th. I didn't plan on him growing so fast when I was packing clothes for this school year. So I left most of my 18 months pants and warm weather clothes packed away in storage back in Utah. It's kind of cold here some days. I regret not bringing a little bit of every size. But the silly thing is that I refuse to buy new pants for him. I'd rather sew him a pair of pants from scrap material than buy something that I already have (granted it's not on the same side of the world as me.)

The whole point of this post was to explain that I try to do what little I can to keep this world nice. I try to remember the reusable grocery bags that I have when I go shopping. In fact, I try to avoid shopping at all costs. But it can't be done. I save milk lids. I save cereal boxes. I save bones, shells, and feathers. I save old, holey clothes. I save a lot of stuff. Like creams found in tubes. As my children grow and depending on where I live, we'll recycle even more because I'll have some helpers.

Many problems in the world can be solved slowly by proper education. Parents can teach their children so many things if they so desire. So, instead of bashing people for having lots of kids, why don't you just encourage parents to teach their children the proper way to care for this world. Sometimes parents need a little boost, a little encouragement. They are exhausted in their role. (Don't say something stupid like, "Well, why did they have kids in the first place?) If you green people want to help the world so badly, step out of your backpacking reverie and talk to some parents about what they think would make it easier to teach their kids about saving the environment.

Hey out there! I'm a mom of four little boys. I'm tired almost all of the time. What would help me teach my kids about saving the environment would be some inexpensive ways to get my kids out in nature. If they loved nature and animals, they would want to assist in this cause. Recycling is non existent here in Qatar. Why doesn't someone who has more time than me figure out a way to provide that service? Maybe in ten years I can. If I'm still living here. For now we'll just have to be a bunch of footprints in the sand.

When silence comes

Yesterday afternoon Atticus went with Uncle Steve, who is really our next door neighbor, to play soccer at the clubhouse. He was gone from 4:30 to 6:15. While he was gone I fed the other kids dinner and got them ready for bed. It was much too easy. When Atticus walked in the door I was in the back room reading to the others. He came back to see what we were up to, I told him his food was in the microwave. Can you believe it? I told him his food was in the microwave! Atticus is seven years old now. He can heat up his own food. He can eat dinner on his own. He can spoon out a portion of Arroz con Leche all by himself. He can even bring his bowl to the bedroom and be with us while I gave my specially prepared Spanish lesson to everyone. Which he did. He did join us voluntarily. I thought it was so sweet that he wanted to be with us even though he'd been with cool Uncle Steve that evening.
What will life be like in five years? I'm almost positive that Atticus will walk in the door and eat his own dinner just fine, but I'm sure he won't join us little guys voluntarily. There will be other things to do. Funner, more interesting things. In ten years, he'll walk in the door, grab his food, go to his room and slam the door and I won't see him until he walks out the door the next morning. Maybe. In fifteen years he'll be gone, out of the house and doing his own thing. Hopefully.
I'll have the other youngins. But they'll go through the same process of growing up and moving on. I'm sure I will cry. I won't have any cute little people that want to be near me. I won't hear the pitter patter of bare feet walking up to the side of my bed and climbing in next to me. I won't hear the chatter of their really loud voices down the hallway as they talk about who's airplane has better capabilities. I won't have chocolaty fingerprints to clean of the light switches anymore.
I want their lives to go on. It would be more devastating to me if they hung around me too long. I would blame myself. What can I do to prepare myself for that day when there is silence all around me and no more chaos to put in order? The simple answer to that is, I'll do all those crafts and hobbies that I wasn't able to do while the kids were around. But that isn't fulfilling when I really think about it. It's only a time filler. Something that I do to have a contrast against the crazy disasters that surround me constantly. Crafts and creating things bring me pleasure right now because I can control them.
So, I'm planning my distant future right now. I know the only way to feel fulfilled is to be around other people. I really like people. I really like to teach. Especially children. So I guess I'll go in that direction. Slowly. Meanwhile, I'll chase my little tumbleweeds around and giggle.

Options = Wonder

I know I know I know! Breast is best! But, why is breast best if the day I start giving my baby exclusively formula (just to see what will happen) he is happier, considerably less gassy, begins sleeping nine hour nights, and has begun to awe me with that smooth baby face that every baby should have.
So if formula is making my baby happier, why in the world did I make myself a slave to the pump for so many months of my life? I've pumped for all of my children when they were babies. All of them were gassy and colicky for the first few months of their lives. Strangely, they were gassy and colicky for all the months they were receiving breast milk from me. Can there be a connection?
I'm so tired of wondering what I should be doing. If he is happy, I am happy. If he is happier with formula, I am happier with formula. So, even if my freezer is filled to the brim with bags of frozen breast milk, I'm debating whether I will give it to him if it makes him so uncomfortable. I'm just so glad we have options in this day and age. I suppose that long ago there wasn't much wondering going on. There was only one way to feed your baby. So, I guess we wonder a lot more when there are so many options out there.

Blah blah blah blah . . . .

Sometimes I just feel the need to write and let things out. Today is one of those days where I'd rather write than do something useful or productive. Do you ever feel like that? Right now I feel like there are hundreds of little sprouts of ideas and thoughts whizzing around in my brain but very few of them ever find a place to take root. I suppose that part of my problem is that I'm not the kind of person that just lets things take root. Last week I went over to a neighbors house just to chat because I need that right now. She told me that years ago she had a visiting teacher who told her of a lady she used to visit. The lady's house was always a disaster but during the visits the two ladies had such wonderful conversations. The "messy" lady always had something interesting to talk about or was lately trying out something unique or fun. The visiting teacher asked her "How do you find time to do all this stuff and know about all these things?" The "messy" lady responded, "Look at my house!" I feel exactly the opposite. My house is not decorated, nor is it spic and span, but it is clean. And sometimes I'm afraid that I'll look back on my life and ask myself why I spent so much time on having a clean house. It seems silly. I actually walk down the hallway and if I notice one of my hairs on the tile floor I make a note of it to pick it up either on my way back down the hall. My mental to do list goes something like this:

1. Feed the baby
2. Calm the baby down
3. Pick up the toys off the carpets (Oh, there are hairs and popcorn kernels on the carpets.)
4. Pull out the vacuum and leave it on the carpet so that when I get a chance I can vacuum.
5. Think about quilting
6. Wash and put lotion on my feet because they are gross and the heels are cracked.
7. Play with the baby. Change the baby. Oh there are hairs in the hallway!
8. Get some hershey kisses from the kitchen and eat them.
9. Play with baby some more.
10. Try to sweep up the hairs in the hallway.
11. Put the bag of quilting stuff on the table so I'll remember that I want to do that.
12. Oh, I'm in the living room and the vacuum is still there. Forget about quilting, and vacuum the floor.
13. Comfort the baby.
14. Pop some more hershey kisses in my mouth while I think about the next time I'll be able to work out. When can Daddy watch the kids?
15. Lug the vacuum back to the closet. Oh! There is sand on the closet floor. Proceed to pull everything out of the closet and. . .
16. Play with baby. Put him down for a nap.
17. Blog
18. Go to the bathroom. Ooops, forgot to sweep the sand out of the closet. Better do that. Sweep it up. Put everything back in the closet. Gotta go to the bathroom real bad.
19. Put the broom back and race to the potty.
20. Go to the kitchen thinking that I should nap while the baby naps.
21. What's going to be for lunch? as I eat more chocolate.
22. Stroll into the living room. What's that on the table? Oh, quilting.

Am I a wacko? Does anyone else work like this? So now, looking back on what I have to show for myself for this part of the morning. Um . . . . . . basically nothing except that I love my baby and I may have a few more pounds to lose and a few more cavities to pay for. But hey! The house is clean!

Now that I've written all this out I think I need to be more focused. I should really ignore that hair issue. It's a little obsessive don't you think?

What I'd really like to do is be a cool mom. That's my greatest desire. Not cool meaning thin, attractive, has a nicely decorated house, has well dressed kids, and makes unique sounding dishes for dinner that don't really taste good but thinks they do, and has time to go to the gym. What I mean by a cool mom is one that isn't afraid to make a mess every once in a while, makes time to read aloud to the kids, runs with them, does cartwheels, sets a good example by praying daily, sets a good example in diet and exersize, talks about the news with them, plants a garden with them, travels with them, makes them walk places, feeds them chocolate every once in a while, and talks about her goals with her kids so they know she has a life that involves other things besides them.

Totally off the topic, I've been thinking about how lucky I am to be safe here in Doha. No earthquakes, storms, or job trials for us right now. But I keep thinking about how unprepared we are if something were to happen to us. A few days ago I heard a rumble and thought I felt movement under my feet while I was standing in my kitchen. I said "Oh crap!" aloud and Jonathan looked at me and asked me, "Why?" The rumble turned out to be the people upstairs moving some furniture or something big. I thought an earthquake had struck Doha. With Haiti and Chile so fresh in my mind I've been slightly thinking about how those situations would affect me and my family. As members of the LDS church, we are told and told again and reminded and reminded again to prepare our emergency kits and food storage for our own good. Many of us don't do it, or do a crappy job of it. Some of us do it and do a wonderful job of it. I personally haven't done it and I find it ironic that I still get angry at my children every day for not listening to me, when I don't even have the respect to listen to God half the time. He doesn't get mad at me. Of course, I am not God, but I should be trying to be like him. Good, patient, generous, loving, kind, etc. Bla, bla, bla. I could go on and on but I won't.

So here's to being more focused! I'm going to go get all my important documents in order so that if we have to flee the country we'll have everything in one place. Yay!

Goodbye 2009!

From the adventures of bunsy and her tumbleweeds

On New Years Eve I watched as my children and some friends galloped through a mist of sparkling confetti screaming at the tops of their lungs. Then I joined in the frenzy that took place shortly after as they devoured our small gingerbread house. Just seeing their glee made me float back in time to moments of similar happiness that I experienced with my siblings and friends and cousins as a child. Never did I experience these moments alone. There was always someone else there. People are so important in life. My children have eachother, thank goodness, they have me and Jonathan as parents, thank goodness, and they have a wonderful extended family that we get to play with every summer. Occasionally they have good friends to play with too. When I look back at this year that has just passed I find myself focusing more on the people we've met or visited than the places we've been or things that we've accomplished. Really, I haven't accomplished much. My

resolutions for last year were not fulfilled. In fact, I had to read last year's post to remember what they were. I just had one. To love my husband better. The only thing I did better this year than in previous years is give him a really good birthday surprise. I'm going to repeat the same resolution again this year. Without him, our family life sucks. If he's not happy I'm not. I know that everyone says, "If Mom's not happy, no one is." Well, I disagree. I think the saying can go for Mom and Dad. If the head of your family is not happy, no one in the family can really experience true happiness. You may feel like you're happy but it isn't real. It's just a cover and the truth will jump out and scare you when you least expect it. I want true, real, happiness in my family this year so that's my resolution, to help my husband be happy and feel my love.

As for the year that has passed, what can I say?

"God has been good to us!. . ." -Mrs. Bennet

Just as Jane and Elizabeth Bennet were married off and brought such satisfaction to their family, God too has made my pathway bright and beautiful. All the hardships that I thought were so horrible at the time, weren't so bad. I don't even remember them right now so I can't tell you what they were. Well, I remember one now. My sewing machine broke and I cried about it. I know, lame. The point is, that happened a few days ago, and today everything is great again. So here I go, onto another year with hopes that I can see life from different perspectives other than my own. Happy New Year!

Mothering a muddle? No.

Sometimes I have time to look back at my life. What I used to be, what I am now, and occasionally I try to look at what I'll become if I continue in the same path I'm currently in.

I used to be a very creative little girl with unique interests. Very unique. I shunned trends, which is wrong. Just because they're a trend doesn't mean they are lame. However, when I was young I felt that most trends were impractical, self serving, and wastes of time.

When I was 11 years old I got my first job. I started delivering the afternoon newspaper and made a lot of money. I never went through that wasteful stage that most kids go through where their first wads of money disappear in an instant. My spending habits were very focused from the start. I bought a stereo. A pair of binoculars. A membership to International Pen Friends. A camera. Stamps. Notebooks. Pens of all sorts. Art supplies, even though I was never very good at art. Sheet music for the piano, although I was never very good at the piano either. I felt that my use of money was very practical. Whether it was or wasn't doesn't matter. The point is that I was able to envision something I wanted, and then make it appear with work, time, and money. What a power!

I think that's how time became so important to me. It can be used in so many ways. To our advantage or disadvantage. I was very into accomplishing things in a short amount of time. After I spent a year on a foreign exchange program in Spain I realized that not only can you spend your time doing something useful. You can do something useful somewhere else. Somewhere interesting. Anywhere in the world.

There are so many ways to live life. So many ways to learn about the world. However, I've slowly slid into a muddle. Perhaps many mothers do. I don't want to excuse myself however. I have ceased to dream those grand dreams I used to dream. I don't think about them anymore, in fact I don't know what they are anymore because I haven't thought about them in so long. I guess if you stop thinking about something you do forget it. A simple lesson. I blame it on mothering. Mothering took me, who still had plans, and gave me a helpless baby instead. What could I do? Of course, what any mother would do. Take care of it and love it to no end. And perhaps have more and more and more babies. Then slowly those previous plans float away and are gone forever. And maybe its a good thing. Maybe those plans were dumb and immature. Trying to recall them, I think they were. If they were so grand I would be able to remember them. Perhaps my muddle isn't a muddle after all. This mothering has molded me into a different creature. My time, work, and money goes elsewhere now. It goes always to them. The result I envision is much grander than anything I could have

From the adventures of bunsy and her tumbleweeds

So I have given up my old hobbies for new ones. Ones that are meant for me at this time in life. Cooking. Sewing. Song learning. Poem memorizing. Cutting. Pasting. Sleeping in strange positions. Story telling. Imagination fostering. Packing. Unpacking. Picture taking. Memory making. Enjoying the moment. Waiting. Worrying. Listening. Leading. Following. Letting.

I should probably take up a few more and I surely will as my children grow. Perhaps decorating might be beneficial on the guests eye, but really I don't think I'll ever. It's too impractical for me and definitely too impractical for my husband. Quilting? Yes, maybe. Gardening. Yes. Meditating. Yes, I hope.

Quality time with a touch of chocolate

Today I've tried to spend more time with the kids instead of playing Chess Titans. I'm reading "The Five Languages of Love of Children" and one of the languages of love is spending quality time with your child. I decided I would try it. After playing lincoln logs with them and assembling car tracks over and over again, settling disputes between babies and boys, and paper macheing the Red Baron and balloons with the kids its 11:25 and all I can say is, "I need a Reese's peanut butter cup. . . or two!" Sorry Jah. There's only one left for you when you get home today. Good thing we're going to the store tonight.

Looking back at the last time I paper mached in Turkey. A complete disaster with my baby almost falling out a three story building. Not good! This time we did it outside and all my kids managed to cooperate and have fun. Success!

Playing chess and dreaming of Ryan Reynolds

Jonathan says that my blog is getting "boooorrrriiiiing" and I must agree. There just isn't a whole lot going on in my life. I could post about the suspicious little drip that's coming from a tube in the guest bathroom ceiling, or perhaps the accumulation of mommy's long hairs that are found all throughout the house, or maybe even my recent adventures playing online chess. Well, I wouldn't really call it online chess. I'm not that confident yet. When I typed in "online chess" many options came up. Things that said, "free online chess, meet new people, chat, learn new chess skills". No no no! I will not chat with people about chess. The very thought of a real person behind my opponents' moves gives me the willies. So I quickly checked my computers game selection and found a safe, comfortable chess game "Titan Chess". Very sweet and impersonal. Even at level 2 I can't manage to emerge victorious, but I come close and that's good enough. Maybe I'll get good enough so that I'll be able to beat my 6 year old nephew next summer. I know he'll be really good by then.

Jonathan came home at 11:30 to pick me and the kids up to go to a school interview. I heard the door slam, "Hi kids!", so I quickly admitted in a loud voice , "I'm playing computer chess!" so he wouldn't find out on his own. What could he think? He's away at work, tiptoeing around Qatari folk, attending meetings, chatting with his southern gentlemen friends while he eats the sumptuous meals I prepare for him, and I'm home with the kids being my productive self. Why would he be surprised to find me in front of the computer? While he got the kids to get their shoes on, I meandered into the front room with an inner comment, "Gosh, why did the kids take every single toy out to play with?" The answer, "Because you were off in your own little chess world dummy!"

What else can I post about? Well, while most of the female population is still dreaming about Edward Cullen, I found Ryan Reynolds in my dream last night. We were best friends. We were very artistic together as we painted and did crafts. Yellow paint with green speckles. Really! You wouldn't believe how hard it was to find a photo of Ryan that excludes an image of his bare chest. Did you know that there is such a thing as a Ryan Reyolds workout? Apparently he recently put on 22 pounds of muscle for his role in the Wolverine movie? For Hollywood this is a lauded feat indeed but I personally love him best while he is professing his love for Amy Smart (Jamie Palomino) with his shirt on. Meryl Streep showed up in my dream too but unfortunately she received a severe head wound which made her a little batty.

So there you have it, a glimpse into my life. Maybe tomorrow I'll take some breathtaking photos of the Qatari skyline at Jonathan's suggestion. He likes me to post pictures, but I say, "Of what? There's nothing here!" Perhaps I can prove myself wrong this year. Besides, I'm here! Isn't that something?

We HAVE to get an ATV now.

Well, here's the news! We are having a BOY! Just thought I'd share. Surprisingly, Jonathan and I were laughing tons in the ultrasound room when we saw our little guy come on the screen. We knew it was a boy from the very beginning. He obligingly put his little ding ding out for display for us so we didn't have to wait for the verdict from the doctor. So, we're happy. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know I wanted a girl, but, only because I'm exhausted. For some reason I thought that if a girl came into our lives the household would calm down a bit. Perhaps I'm very wrong. Well, I'm getting what I need. The doctor told us that they see tears of happiness and tears of sadness in the ultrasound room. I can't imagine having tears of sadness, unless there were complications of some sort. Having a little life grow inside of you, no matter what its gender, will always bring me happiness. Even if we try again and get another bouncing boy. I guess I believe too strongly that we get what we need. It's not a matter of chance. God lets things happen a certain way so that we can learn and grow the most. So, now we are on a quest for a name that will not put our family into shock but that will satisfy our desire for the original and unique.

Now that we'll have four boys, there is no excuse for not getting an ATV in a few years, right? (I mean, when we have some money to spare. Ha ha!) By that time Atticus will be eating three or four breakfasts instead of two and the shoe purchases will be beyond my imagination. But maybe, just maybe, Jonathan will have a set career and our money will stretch that far.

Here's a picture of what you might need very soon. No, you are not going to join Little League. Your job is much more dangerous. You never know when you are going to be attacked and pounced upon by three crazy and quite bony little boys. And since you like to read laying down, these attacks could prove fatal. And I figured that if together we have produced yet another male heir (to our vast fortune, ha ha) this will come in handy a few extra years.

Happy Father's Day!

He thinks he knows how to swim. Next time we go to the pool, don't let me forget to bring those water wings.

Shermy

The 3 Amigos.

I threw this one in because Peter and Wendy never post any recent pictures of their kids and you have no idea what this little rascal looks like. So here she is. She's a pinkie.

Here Shermy is running through the gardens at Thanksgiving Point with a very Shermanesque look on his face.

What has fatherhood done for you? Well, from my perspective I've noticed two changes. One, you don't drive fast anymore, not even in your Porsche. Two, you actually stress over your duty to provide for your family. Stress isn't good but in your particular case, it is a noble thing. I thank you and your children will someday thank you for your sacrifice of peace of mind.

There are a few other things that I thought I'd never see happen. Like one day when there was no one to watch the kids and I had a test or something, you stayed home with Atticus and Shermy. After they woke up in the morning you couldn't find anything "cute" enough to dress them in. So you didn't dress them. You drove them down to Walmart to purchase several very "cute" sweatsuits featuring Lightning McQueen and Mickey Mouse. For a man who is too cheap to buy himself (or let me buy him) new shoes when the soles are falling off, this extravagance was quite unexpected.

There are many pieces of memory in my mind as I go over moments in our past with our kids. The blurry image of you going up and down on the excersize ball with Atticus firmly snuggled in your arms for hours. Literally. The cry was too much to endure. You much preferred the bounce. The blood that got on your green polo shirt when Shermy was born. The strange coincidence of wearing the exact same shirt when Cinci was born. The echoey laughter of our family as we swam in the hotel's warm indoor pool in Antalya. The quiet pride we felt so often walking the streets of Turkey with our little ones, being so happy we chose to have a family. So happy it was God's will that we could have one. Daily walking by what we could have been, but never looking back sadly.

Parenthood changes us daily. Fatherhood teaches you what you need to learn most, although I know you mostly prefer to learn from books. I can't imagine what you'll become farther down the line of fatherhood. You are already such a good man and father. I could use the usual words like wonderful, nice, great, awesome, loving, patient, perfect, excellent, da da da da da da da etc. but you interpret words in such an intense and intricate way that I can't use the wrong one, or use one that is already used so lightly and commonly. So I'm sorry if I can't describe you in words. I hope these pieces of memories of mine will bring to mind and help you remember what you were and help you realize what you have become.