BYU Weekend

Two weekends ago, Brent and I took Cassie and Jensen to Utah to spend some time with Dalin at BYU. It was Parents' Weekend at the school, so there were several activities planned, but we chose to participate in two and spend the rest of the time with the family. The only bummer was that Shaina couldn't go with us because she had her huge district marching band competition at BSU that Saturday, so she had to stay with a friend all weekend. Shaina and Dalin have been having a good time e-mailing each other since Dalin left, so Shaina was really disappointed that she couldn't go on the trip, and we really missed her.

My mom went along with us so she could spend some time with her friend who is on a family history mission in Salt Lake, but she went to Provo with us on Friday to see Dalin first. We spent the weekend walking around campus, shopping at the bookstore, hanging out in Dalin's kitchen/living room, and just being together. We threw in some bowling, and the dinner we went to for parents' weekend featured Polynesian dancers as the entertainment, which Brent loved seeing again. Brent ran a 5K on Saturday morning and did awesome! He came in fourth in his age division and ran the 3.3 miles in 21 minutes. He is running at least 4 times a week, and it's obviously paying off -- although he is really skinny these days! It was a great weekend, and Jensen and I shed several tears when we left.

I wish I could adequately explain how it felt to see Dalin there all settled into school and living life without me. Those of you who have reached the time in life where your kids start leaving home know what I'm talking about, and those of you who haven't reached that point, it stinks! No, actually there are a lot of mixed emotions. I'm so proud of Dalin for the choices he's making and the life he is living. It's also nice to see that he is capable of surviving on his own with a little peanut butter and jelly and some toaster waffles. I'm excited that he is meeting new people, working to support himself, and doing well in school. But, I miss him. I hate that he isn't home, sitting in his rocking chair reading. I miss talking to him face-to-face and seeing him grow and mature every day. I miss having another man in the house. I miss being able to sneak up on him and kiss him on the cheek. I just miss him. Having children home is a difficult thing full of challenges and rewards, but no one ever told me how hard it was to have them leave. The upcoming mission will be something that will take a lot of getting used to for Dalin's mom.

Speaking of mission, Dalin's papers will go to SLC sometime close to Nov. 5. WOW! My baby is almost 19 and is going to go serve the Lord for two years. He is a good man, and the people wherever he goes will be blessed to have him there.

The Olden Days and Growing Up

Cassie went to her first formal dance last weekend. She looked absolutely beautiful and had a fantastic time. Times are sure different, though. When I went to a dance, my mom often sewed or rigged my dress, my cousin did my hair, and I painted my nails if they weren't all chipped off from playing the piano. Cassie and I went to the mall and found her dress for a great deal, if I do say so myself, and it only took going back and forth between two stores three times to make a final decision. The Monday before, we went to Sun Valley so Uncle Jared could file and polish her teeth and fit her for a bleaching tray (angling for favorite uncle status, hee hee. Thanks, Jared! We love you!). The day of, she paid to have her hair done at a salon even though I had offered to do it for her. I'm pretty sure I could have curled it like the hairdresser did, but she didn't believe I could, I guess. The funny thing was that while she was getting curled, it literally poured in sheets of rain. I was shopping across the street, and Shaina called me to ask me to go to Target and buy an umbrella so Cassie's hair wouldn't be ruined going from the salon to the truck. I probably could have figured something else out, but I was wet and tired, so I just went to Target and got the dang umbrella.

I went across the street and tried to open the umbrella to get me and my wet clothes into the salon (didn't really need to bother), and guess what? It was broken! It shot straight up when I pushed the button, but it wouldn't open, and it had a hole in the top. LAME! Of course, Cassie was in a hurry to get home and change before her date picked her up in thirty minutes, so Shaina and her friend Rily forcibly stretched the dumb umbrella out enough that they could stand on either side and hold it over Cassie's head while she made it to the truck. They then handed me the wet thing, and I trudged back to Target to get a refund. The funny thing was me, standing there sopping wet and dripping, plopping a broken umbrella down on the customer service counter. The customer service gal couldn't even meet my eyes. Uh, sorry, was about all she had to say.

I made it home just in time to see Brent taking pictures of Cassie and Jeff and to say good-bye as they walked out the door. Ah. Yet another event in my children's lives that makes me realize that the days with my children home to enjoy are numbered. I loved the talks in general conference today about finding joy in the now. Looking back, I never thought I would miss the dirty hands on everything, the crying in the night, everything that goes with having a house full of little ones. I do. While having older children has its perks, and my teenagers are great kids, on weekends when I see my beautiful little girl in a grown-up dress walking out the door with a young man, or when my son comes home to visit from college for the first time, I realize that I didn't enjoy my time with them as little ones as fully as I could have. Oh well. Look forward, as Pres. Monson said, don't look back. Enjoy the now. I will.

It seems like just yesterday that I was going to high school dances; although, looking at pictures like this, it doesn't look like yesterday, does it? (My first formal dance --Sweetheart's Ball 1983)

Jensenisms: Tales of Boys and Busdrivers

Having this little girl tacked onto the end of our family has been pure joy. She has the gift of making me laugh every day, and one of my favorite things about her is that she loves to hold my hand. The wonderful thing about that is that she is very adamant that my hand is tightly and securely grasping hers -- no fish hand. She often reaches over with her other hand to wrap mine around hers the way she wants it. I love it. None of my big kids will hold my hand anymore, and I dread the day that Jensen thinks she is too old to do it.

Another thing I love about her is that she is a thinker. She is constantly stringing these very grown-up thoughts and words together, and sometimes they come out very, very funny. This week, she and I were walking through WalMart near the pharmacy, and we passed an end cap that had a diet pill display. Right at her eye level on one of the boxes was a picture of a pudgy woman, and next to her the same woman, only thin. Jensen said, "Mommy, if you want to skinny up, then you really need these." Then, she poked at her own belly and said, "I think maybe I should skinny up."

Today she came home from school and said that she had so much fun playing at recess today. I turned to listen carefully because this is the first time she has said that. Recess is her LEAST favorite part of school. When I inquired as to what had made recess so fun today, she said she had played "boy tag." Boy tag?? She explained that she had gotten a girl who doesn't usually play very much, and they had chased Isaac, Dillon, and Jacob all over the playground today. Oh wow. Should I be happy about the fact that she had a good recess, or should I be worried about the fact that she is chasing boys?

On about the third day of riding the bus home, Jensen got off the bus and told me that her bus driver made her change seats on the way home. What? Why make a kindergartner change seats on a bus full of kindergartners? Evidently, she got in a bit of trouble. I automatically kicked into cub protection mode, and I asked what happened. She said that the boys behind her were throwing "trash with slobber on it" at her and Ellie, and they were just throwing it back. EWWWW! I'm assuming "trash with slobber on it" translates to "spitballs," and picking up someone else's spitballs is soooooo disgusting. Jens said the bus driver wouldn't listen to her try to explain and just made her move anyway. I wasn't thrilled with the bus driver. Oh well. At least I can be grateful for this: (the miracle of hand sanitizer. . .)

Finally, this week Jensen asked me if I knew what her favorite holidays were. I had an idea, but I went ahead and said, "No. Tell me." Her response made me a little melancholy, "Christmas, Easter, and the day Dalin comes home." Is that perfect or what? I love that little girl.

You Reap What You Sow

This year my brother and sister-in-law, Cash and Marisa, ended up with a bunch of fantastic produce from their little garden planted along the whole length of their back fence. It's nice for me because I get some of the leftover stuff when I happen by, which I should have done more often in the last month. We have a harvest at our house, too, only it's not nearly as useful as the Hill's. We grew baby birds this summer. Well, we didn't really do it on purpose, but it happened on our front porch, nonetheless. I wish I could say I was thrilled with it all, but there is a big fat downside to a nest built directly above the first step up to your front porch. It looks like this:

Yep. We have been sidestepping and spraying away bird poop all summer. While we were enthralled watching the swallow parents construct a nest on the 1/2" lip on the underside of our porch cover, we didn't stop to think what would happen when mommy and daddy swallow perched on the edge of the nest to feed their babies. Birds poop a lot. A whole lot. I think one of the reasons Dalin was so excited to go to school was that he wouldn't have to spray the poop off the porch everyday. Now Brent does it -- hee hee.

Ok, it was pretty cool seeing the tiny eggs in the nest and watching the ugly little swallow babies poking their heads and gigantic beak mouths up to be fed, but when the babies flew off in July while we were on vacation, we didn't cry too much. Unfortunately for us, we didn't take the nest down, and guess what? The mommy and daddy were very prolific this summer and deposited five more eggs in the nest. You can't take a nest down when it has eggs in it. That would be like abortion or something. So we suffered through round two. The funny thing about this batch of babies was that they weren't afraid of us. Where the first batch would hunker down in the nest whenever they heard the door or a car, these dumb babies poked their heads right out and stared at us. It was a little disconcerting and a bit creepy, to tell the truth. Not to mention that the swallow parents scolded us all summer whenever we opened the door and disturbed a rest or a feeding.

Moral of the story? As soon as you see a cute little swallow couple building a nest anywhere close to where you step, take it down. When you're a bleeding heart, you reap what you sow, I'm telling ya. It's best to watch the whole process on PBS.

School's In

The kids started school last week, and for the first time in a few years, I really wasn't looking forward to it. I have had a great time having my kids home this summer, and it was tough sending them back. Cassie is a junior this year, and Shaina is a freshman. They both have "zero hour," so they leave at 7:10 a.m., and they get home, barring sports or rehearsals of some kind, at about 3:40. Cassie and Shaina are both beautiful, vibrant young women, and I am so pleased with how they are growing up. I just can't believe they are so old!

Jensen started kindergarten this year, and it was a very sad day. . .for me mostly. Jens had a little--well, a lot of--separation anxiety. For about a month leading up to the fateful day, she would say things with a little whine and tear like, "But I never go ANYWHERE without you, Mommy!" "We do EVERYTHING together." "Do I have to go by myself?" She got right up the morning of school, however, and we did her hair and got her dressed and fed, but then she slowed down a little. When Jensen is trying to be brave, trying not to cry, she sucks on her bottom lip a little and her eyes get all watery. That's what we saw the rest of the morning.

She wanted both Brent and I to take her to school, and we both had to walk her to the playground. After watching her make a half-hearted, two second attempt at the swing, I told her I was going to go home. She said, "Ok, Mommy," and she turned to go back to the playground. I turned to leave, but I couldn't resist a last peek over my shoulder to see if she was playing. She wasn't. She was running full speed at my back with tears in her eyes, and when I reached for her, she jumped into my arms and held on as tight as she could and said, "Can you please just stay to walk me to my class?" I would like to say that I was very stoic and calm, but I wasn't. I was crying by then, but I tried really hard not to let her see (not too tough, actually, since her face was buried in either my neck or my leg from then until we got to the classroom). Once we actually got to her room, though, she let go and walked right in. Brent practically had to drag me from the window of the room, but I finally went to the car. I asked him to drive home even though he didn't have his license with him. I couldn't see.

When Dalin went to kindergarten, I was a little sad, but I had two other little ones at home to keep me busy, and I knew I'd be doing this again, and again. Even when Shaina went, I thought I would be getting another child through adoption, so it didn't have the finality of a last child. This kindergarten first day, though, has done me in. I have to stay very busy to keep from being in a funk, and none of it is any easier this week since I am taking my oldest to college. What is happening to me? Am I really that old? I have a son going to college then on a mission, two gorgeous girls in high school, and my sweet last child in kindergarten. This month has done a number on me. Anyone have any See's chocolates?

Heads Up

For those of you coming to my blog for the first time in awhile, note that after a dry spell, I have produced three posts in the last week, and since they are subjects that I particularly enjoy, they are not short posts. Go ahead and scroll through and pick and choose what you want to read. I won't be offended if you want to skip over some. . .or all if you want (unless you're my family, in which case you must read all of it). :) Have a great day!

I Adore Them

I don't remember much about when my brother Jay was born, since I was only 18 months old, but I'm sure that I was as thrilled as any toddler is to have a little sibling to beat on and cuddle to distraction. I was six when Rex was born, and I kind of took charge of him from the time he came home. He and I were pretty attached to each other--he was an amazing little soul. When Cash came along eleven months later, I was old enough to care if I got a brother or sister, and I wanted a sister! The day my parents brought him home from the hospital, I was sitting in a chair holding him trying to convince myself that another brother would be ok, when my dad flew across the room and grabbed a pot out of Rex's hand before it came down on Cash's head. I don't think 11-month-old Rex was ready to give up his place as the family baby. Cash soon won me over, as he does everyone he has met since, and I guess I resigned myself to the fact that I would be the only girl. There are advantages to being the only girl child, after all, especially if you're the oldest. You pretty much get to call the shots with the younger kids, you don't have to share your stuff, you get your own room, and you are the only "daddy's little girl" in the house.

So three years after Cash, my parents went and got my hopes up again for a sister when they conceived a fifth child. By this time I was ten years old and I was absolutely sure a sister was on the way. They'd done it once, surely they could do it again, right? Why else would God be giving our family another child if it wasn't going to be a sister for me to dress up, do her hair, and show her how to survive in our male-dominated home? I could hardly stand the anticipation waiting for the call from the hospital on October 21. Finally, my dad called to tell me that I had another little brother. And he was expecting me to what? Jump for joy? Call my little friends to share the happy news? Nope. I did what any little girl would do in that situation. I cried.

And that's how it started, my life with four little boys. Sadly, I only got seven years with Rex, but I have had the last forty, give or take depending on the brother, with the other boys. The verdict on growing up with all brothers? LOVED IT! Of course there are those who say that I don't know any different, so how can I say growing up with brothers was any better than growing up with sisters. How? I married a wonderful man with seven sisters, and while I envy a lot about their sisterhood, I've noticed things I didn't miss as well. But my main girl experience comes from currently living in a house charged with estrogen. Having studied this sister phenomena in my home for fourteen years now, I have deduced the following advantages of a girl having only brothers (don't get me wrong, though. I love Brent's sisters and my girls very, very much--just some empirical research):

1. Absolutely none of your siblings wants to wear the same outfit you do on the same day.

2. You can always find your make-up because your brothers don't own a make-up bag.

3. The bedroom is yours and yours alone. Most brothers don't want pictures of Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom, or in my day, Scott Baio, on their walls, nor do they appreciate a great pink and brown or turquoise color scheme.

4. There is no sharing of feminine hygiene products, so they are always ready and waiting where you put them last month.

5. You get way more phone time! My experience with boys, even my son, has shown that while a guy likes a good chat on the phone with girl friends, it's not nearly as often or as long as girls talk to guys on the phone. And guy talks with their guy friends are about 45 seconds, going something like,"Dude, you going golfing tomorrow? What time? K. Meet ya there. Later." Which brings me to #6:

6. You enjoy mostly short conversations and low maintenance. While I realize that not all boys and men are like this, most of the ones I have lived with and met require little conversation and little explanation. They don't care to hear the "long version" of any story, and they don't spend hours worrying about and analyzing things they can't fix. They pretty much take you at face value. Cool.

7. Way fewer emotional roller coasters. In addition to the monthly hormonal fluctuations we girls suffer, there are always tears, laughs, elation, and break-downs close to the surface. It doesn't take much to trigger a random emotion, and girls know how to pull each other's triggers. . .and they do it for fun sometimes.

8. No long-lasting grudges. Girls can remember an offense and hold a grudge f..o..r..e..v..e..r. Guys, on the other hand, if they even realize they should have taken offense, get over it and get on with it. Why waste time on that stuff?

Anyway, there are others I haven't listed, but I wanted to get to the point of this whole post, and that is that I love and adore my brothers. They were fun, active, smart little boys who have grown into fun, busy, accomplished men. No one can make me laugh like Jay, Cash, and Jared, and just being with them feels like coming home. I learned from growing up with them what I wanted in a husband, and I found a great one. My brothers truly care about each other and my family, and they have set examples of perseverance, fatherhood, spirituality, compassion, and work for my children. They let me practice my mothering skills on them when they were young (albeit not always willingly or patiently :) ), and they have let me make all kinds of mistakes over the years. All they seem to expect from me is to love them and their families, and I do.
Jay has taught me to do what I love. He was drum major when drum major wasn't cool because he loved it. He has let his passion for drawing and art lead him since he was a child, and even though he's not a millionaire, he is doing what he loves and is gifted at. Jay taught me to express love to others. He is always ready with a hug or a kiss whenever needed. We weren't best friends growing up, but I consider him a bosom friend now. Jay has an eye for beauty and has taught me to look in unexpected places for uniquely beautiful things. Not only that, he brought my first sister into my life, and I realized when I met and got to know Lauralee that I had the sister I always wanted--and just the good parts of having a sister!

My brother Cash is really a god-send to the Hill family. He was kind of a middle child growing up and took a back seat to a lot of our activities, but he is awesome anyway! Mom and I tend to overanalyze and try to fix everything. We're a little too serious. Cash isn't. He can tell us to chill out and get a grip without making us cry, and he makes me laugh so hard my face hurts. From Cash I have learned to embrace life harder, enjoy it, and even swear at it if that's what it takes. Cash is a very practical, git-er-done kind of guy. If it needs done, he'll do it. Fortunately for us all, he is a problem solver and he married an organizer, so Cash and Marisa are the ones the whole family looks to for advice on the things that we can't wrap our heads around. Cash and Marisa are the brains behind the beauty. . .er. . .the rest of the family. :)

Jared is kind of my baby. When my dad died, Jared was two, and Mom was called as Relief Society President six months later, so much of Jared's care fell to me at 13 years old. He's still alive and healthy, so I guess I did ok. When Jared was playing football, I would get so nervous before his games that I would be sick to my stomach and looking for the nearest restroom. I was so concerned about who he would marry that I picked Maren for him while he was on his mission. Jared has taught me to never quit. He has suffered so many injuries and setbacks, but he perseveres and comes back stronger. I learned from watching him that it's ok to lose sometimes (but it's infinitely better to win!). Jared has a joy about him that is contagious. He teaches me to relax and enjoy. He is quick to laugh, and he attracts success. My Dalin has decided to become a dentist because he admires Jared so much, and you'll notice that Dalin's hair is much the same as Jared's.

So I could go on and on, but wait. . .I already have. Let's just say that I consider myself truly blessed to have been born into the family I have. I realize that there are lots of things that I missed by not having a sister, but it's ok. I think I've survived, even thrived. I am eternally grateful to my parents both earthly and heavenly for my brothers, and now for the sisters-in-law and beautiful nephews and nieces they have brought into my life. I adore them.

A Mountain Paradise

We just got back from a weekend in Cascade, ID, with all of my brothers and families, my mom, and my cousin Kathy with her hubby and girls. Anyone going to a family reunion for more than a couple of hours knows that it's always a risky proposition. Will everyone get along? Will we all survive the games and water fun? Will anyone be offended? Will we lose a child to mosquitoes? It's a spit in the wind, really. But fortunately, our weekend was spectacular. Jared and Maren arranged for a huge cabin literally two minutes from Cascade Lake that slept 18 people in beds and had plenty of living and mingling space as well as a nice, modern kitchen. It was surrounded by tall pine trees and other foliage, and it was a minute from a small, quiet beach which was perfect for the children. We had 26 people there, and we didn't feel cramped at all. Really, it was the most incredible place for a "camping" trip. Now, I love being out in nature and I especially love the mountains, but I love them most when I have access to running water, a nice toilet, and a microwave and dishwasher. I love to sit in a soft, comfy chair and either look out the picture windows at the beauty of God's creations or gaze at the big screen TV. That's why this place was the best!

(That is Cash's finger on Cassie's face, by the way. Let's make that clear. :) )We spent Friday and Saturday on the beach and in the boat. There was a little breeze most of the weekend which made the lake a little choppy--too choppy for fancy slolom skiing--so Cash, Jared, Shaina, and Cassie did a lot of wakeboarding and almost everyone tubed. The younger kids tried skiing on two skis, and Dalin found that he loves to wakeboard. My favorite part was just relaxing in a chair on the beach enjoying watching the kids and occasionally taking a dip in the nice, clean water. (We're used to Lake Lowell, which by now has enough sludge in it to practically hold us up without a life vest.) I love watching Brent and my brothers drive the boat and help the kids ski. They just come alive out there. I wish we had just taken the plunge, so to speak, and bought the boat when our kids were younger.

In addition to boating, we played a lot of games, watched some movies, talked a lot, and did a humanitarian project together. We put together 25 hygiene kits, and it was fun watching the kids get involved in doing them. The kids also got to go fishing, and most of them caught at least one fish. Jensen has told us for days since that she caught two! By far the best part of the trip, though, was having my entire family there together. I love that my kids have gotten to know and love their aunts and uncles. I feel particularly blessed in the sister-in-law category. Lauralee, Marisa, Maren, and I all have different strengths and ways of doing things, but we all get along swimmingly and love each other very much. I couldn't have hand-picked better wives for my brothers. Good times!

(check out the post on Dalin's Eagle Court of Honor after this)

Trying Something New

These are some of the pictures I took at the reunion. I guess that family will enjoy these the most since I haven't figured out how to put a caption on the pictures yet. I'm still learning!

My Eagle Scout

You would think that having set the Eagle Scout goal for Dalin when he was born, I would have figured out sometime in the last eighteen years what to do at his Eagle Scout court of honor. Really, I figured we would have a short talk, a musical number, and present the award. But for the ten days leading up to the actual court of honor I started thinking about the courts of honor my mom and grandad did for my brothers, which were BIG deals. They had a nice program with the trail to Eagle and all the rank advancement badges blown up and in full color on easels across the stage, lit by spotlights at the appropriate times. I started feeling a little guilty, so I got on the world wide web and started investigating the court of honor options. Wow. There were a lot of options. So, I finally settled in one evening and started piecing together a script. At 12:30 a.m., Cassie and her friend Ashley told me that their friends had sprayed the truck with shaving cream, so we were outside until 1:00 washing it. (No one had told these kids the evils of shaving cream, especially when the vehicle belongs to the parents???) I finally finished the script for the court of honor at 3:45 a.m.

Sunday, July 13, at 6:30 p.m. we held the event at the church. It was a ton of work, but it was worth it. There were several young boys there who commented afterwards that they now want to get their Eagle. Awesome. We had a lot of good friends there from our old ward and our new ward; Dalin had some friends there, one sang the National Anthem, in fact; and the best thing was that all three of my brothers and my grandad were there. It was awesome. Everything went very well, and the ceremony was only about 50 minutes long, which was perfect. We missed Brent's parents and family, so here are some pictures.