Winter Dunes

Congratulations, Scott Dorval! The Channel 6 weather guy had the best guess as to how much snow we would receive today, at least on our end of the valley. I don't have the official word, but our yard had 3-4" in the "non-drifted" areas, and on our front sidewalk where it was drifting, we had 12"! I know this because I stood there with a ruler in the snow like someone who has never seen snow before. I have, mind you. I grew up in the Treasure Valley, and we used to actually have a lot of snow in the winter, but since I moved back ten years ago, there hasn't been much of the snowflake activity. We had some really cool snow dunes in our driveway--which is so steep, by the way, that in this weather unless I get a running start at it, I end up spinning my wheels at the bottom in the middle of the road. All I know is that a lot of snow means I am stuck in the house all day and that likely my big kids are home from school the next day. Great! ????

A Prophet of God

When I heard last evening that President Gordon B. Hinckley has passed away, I was happy for him but sad for me. I am thrilled for him that he is reunited with his beloved wife, and I can't imagine the reception he is receiving from prophets of old and especially from the Lord whom he has served so faithfully his entire life. Glorious! I am sad, however, that I will no longer hear his wonderfully distinctive voice over the pulpit, listen to his profound yet simple counsel, or see him karate chop his right hand as he speaks. :) What an amazing example and human being! I am grateful for him and his life purpose of bringing the church out of obscurity. Because of him, people are more familiar with our church and more willing to listen to the gospel. While I love and remember President Kimball as the prophet of my youth, I have learned more from President Hinckley than from any other prophet I can remember. Perhaps that is because I have learned to listen better. I will miss him. My family will miss him. Thank you, President Hinckley. We love you.

Expecting Adam

I just finished an interesting book called Expecting Adam. I have very mixed feelings about it, so excuse me for a bit while I wax philosophical. The book was written by Martha Beck, who I figured out about 1/3 way through the book is the daughter of the LDS scholar Hugh Nibley; she was, and I assume is, no longer affiliated with the LDS church. The story begins when Beck and her husband were going to Harvard getting advanced degrees and she becomes pregnant with a boy with Down syndrome. The pregnancy progresses from one miracle to another--and I mean miracles. She tells some very beautiful and thought-provoking stories about Adam's childhood, and she details the journey she and her husband take from denial and grief to acceptance. Beck finds that all the values she espoused at Harvard, all the things she thought were important, truly weren't, and she also describes several of the people she encounters during her Harvard pregnancy and their reactions, both ways, to finding out she was not getting an abortion. While her writing style is a little over the top for me (uses too many similes/metaphors in an attempt to be constantly funny), the story is well-told and engaging. I loved reading about Adam, and I was amazed at the things that happened during the pregnancy. My mixed feelings come from the fact that Beck is very down on organized religion, especially the religion of her roots, and even after all the spiritual happenings during Adam's incubation, she is still searching. She subtley and not-so-subtley jabs at the LDS faith several times. So do I recommend the book? Overall, yes. For me, the story about the pregnancy and the experiences with Adam outweighed Beck's spiritual confusion, and while I was frustrated with her generalizations on religion and Harvard life, I was involved in the story and touched by the journey. I had an uncle with Downs that I, as a child, alternately adored and feared, and I believe that while they come with challenges for those who love them, people with Downs are a gift in so many ways. The pictures are of my Uncle Alan and Grandparents Hill.

Even Though She's Old . . .

Our party continued (see post below) over the weekend when we went to Sun Valley to hang out with Jared, Maren, their boys, and Mom for mine and Brent's birthdays. We ate good food and stayed up late playing a great game that involved a little of burning each other and a lot of Jared winning (some things never change). My teenagers love hanging with their uncles and aunts--they'll even stay off the phone for extended periods of time to play, talk, and watch a showing of Fletch with them. On Saturday, Brent, Jared, Dalin, Cassie, and Shaina went to Dollar Mountain to ski (Brent) and snowboard (everyone else). Shaina and Cassie had never boarded before, do not own longjohns or ski clothes of any kind, and have a mom who was unwilling to spend a bunch of money on such clothes when they might decide they hate snow activites and never don the johns again. Anyway, the girls did ok, though Shaina regaled us with stories for days of Cassie's tumbles down the hill. Cass is still unable to move without groaning, even claims she blacked out for a few seconds after one fall, but the crazy girl says it was fun and she'll do it again. Shaina, too. Guess I'll invest in ski clothes. While they were all flying--or tripping--down the slopes, Mom, Maren, and I took the little kids sledding. We had a blast hauling their sleds up the hill, kneeling in the snow and holding it still while they slowly and carefully mounted, giving them a push, then plowing down through the knee-deep drifts after them so we could repeat above activity. Actually, it was a perfect weather day and really fun. When Jensen reported her weekend to Grandma Gunnell on the phone yesterday, she said, "And my mom's mom, she rode on the sled really fast down the hill, even though she's old." Way to go, Grammy! We have photographic proof that she did indeed do a solo run on the sled. Overall, a wonderful way to spend a birthday.

Jensen The Party Girl

It has been a wild and crazy fortnight at our house. Jensen turned five on Thursday, Jan. 17, and we had the Nelson's and the Cash Hill's over for cake and ice cream. I don't know if it's just because she's older and understands more or if she's been to enough birthday parties and seen enough on TV that she remembers, but Jensen had some high expectations for the evening. She had invited everyone in the Treasure Valley to her party, and so she wanted to know when everyone was going to jump out and say "Surprise!" She also asked me all day if I wanted her to go to her room to play for awhile so I could decorate for the party. Now keep in mind that I have spent all of my parenting years gearing up for birthday parties for my children's 8th and 12th birthdays only. I'm not a big party thrower, I'm not good at kids' party games, and I'm definitely not big on decorating for birthdays. Maybe I'm a bad mom. (My sister-in-law Lauralee is a great party giver, and I love to go to her parties. I wish she lived closer.) Anyway, once Jensen reconciled herself to the fact that she wasn't going to have the party she dreamed of, she had a great time and loved her gifts. And she loved even more that when we got to Uncle Jared and Aunt Maren's on Friday, there were decorations! There were streamers and balloons and another cake with lots of sprinkles, and there were even sparklers on the cake. Aunt Maren and Grammy came through. It's good I'm part of a family and good that I have partying sisters-in-law. Marisa also throws a good birthday party. . . (pictures of the grand event coming when I get my camera from Jared and Maren's house)

What About a Card?

When Brent and I were getting ready to have children, we said to each other, "Why don't we have all of our children in the first six weeks of the year, right by our birthdays, so we can be broke for four solid months from November thru February?" So we did. Isn't that cute? Jensen's birthday is Jan. 17, Brent's is Jan. 20, mine is Jan. 21, Dalin's is Feb. 5, and Cassie is Feb. 6. (Shaina missed the party and was born on Mar. 26. She feels extremely slighted.) Anyway, that would be why I have not stopped shopping since December 1. So I never thought I'd say it, but I'm sick of shopping. If I have to go to Hollister, Aeropostale, or American Eagle again in the next six months, you will probably find me lying in a psych ward somewhere with my hands over my ears (Hollister music), a death grip on my debit card, and babbling about a pull-over vs. a zippity-up hoodie. Although that fantastic smell in Hollister just keeps me coming back for more. . . .
We have been counting the days to Jensen's birthday because this year, well, she can count--one of the drawbacks of a child getting older and smarter. So tonight at dinner she said, "Mom, when is someone going to send me a birthday card? There's only two more days!" To which I replied, "I'm sure you will get one soon" (or something lame like that). And my sweet little almost-five-year-old said, "But I've told everyone!" . . . .which she has, by the way, from the cashier at Old Navy, to the little boy named Zach in the play area at Deseret Book (she invited him to her birthday party), to the secretary at the high school. So she wonders, where are all those cards? She even picked one out for herself today and had Laurie buy it to give to her. Poor child. She never gets any attention. And by the way, we didn't really plan to have our birthdays all in the first quarter of the year, it just happened. For those of you thinking it might be fun, it's a really bad idea.

I Am Officially Old

It's official. I am old. My almost eighteen-year-old son has been accepted to college. We have all been waiting on pins and needles since some of his friends got their acceptances a month ago, but it happened this week. Dalin will be attending either BYU-Provo or BYU-Idaho in the fall. (I think BYU-I is just his mom's wishful thinking. I'm having some trouble dealing with this whole leaving home thing.) Since BYU is the alma mater of his parents, we are excited to have him go to Provo, but we will miss him. We have been so blessed to have him in our home for the last eighteen years. It is amazing all the feelings you have watching your firstborn grow up and leave. I have laughed and cried, but mostly I have cried. Not just sad tears, either. Dalin is a good man, and I am proud that he is mine.

Let's Start at the Very Beginning . . .

My sisters-in-law and my best friend have finally convinced me that I need to try blogging. They say it is a great way to keep family members and friends who live away up-to-date, and they claim it's therapeutic on top of that. I figure, what have I got to lose? So here goes my foray into the world of tecnological journaling--a little scary for one so web-challenged as myself . . .