Author: lilydarais

Mary loves to color and made a book. This is a video of her narrating her picture book:

Abe instituted Saturday morning chores for the kids a while back, and on Friday night Lydia scrambled to perfectly clean her room. She wanted a free morning on Saturday, and she was also so proud of her hard work. My favorite part of the video is where she proudly proclaims, “nothing but carpet!”

In the evening we tried to go to The Lion King Jr. at the Covey Center, but it turns out that it’s playing next week. I think I have some sort of clinical condition that prevents me from getting dates and times correct. At any rate, it was rainy and cold so we headed to the mall’s play place and let the kids play before going grocery shopping.

I finished my Annie Liebowitz master class, but I didn’t do any of the photo exercises. I did learn concepts, though! I haven’t applied any of them in any of my photos except one. Yesterday as I was nursing it occurred to me that my frame of vision captured the story of my relationship with Clarissa–or at least a major part of it.

It’s too bad we didn’t have more complimentary colors here, especially with that red pillow. Also, I need photoshop and don’t have a great eye for composition. ANYWAY, the point is, I have to start somewhere, right?! And this photo does, at the least, tell a story that means something to me. That’s the sum of what I learned from the class: Learn to SEE, and take photographs that tell stories that mean something to you.

On Tuesday night Clarissa was up every hour until finally at 3:30 am Abe figured out a way to get her to sleep longer.  He told me we should let her cry it out, and after a period of time which I shall not document here, he went in, soothed her, and off to sleep she drifted…just in time for us to get up and do Insanity! 

Just kidding. We skipped it.

I took her in to the doctor again when she woke up. This time the doctor said it looked like she was starting to get an ear infection, and even though this doctor is usually against anti-biotics, she said that with a baby, we should probably err on the side of treatment. I could not agree more.

Other than that we had a pretty low key day. I eliminated carbs and dairy from my diet, alongside the sugar I kicked to the curb January 1. I would eliminate food altogether for the next two weeks before Mexico if I didn’t have to chase four kids! All the research says fasting is the way to go, right??!!

Since nothing much happened Wednesday, I am going to record some of Ammon’s cute sayings and doings because Abe has been asking me to for weeks.

1. Opposites. Ever since he learned to talk (and I’m defining “talk” pretty loosely here), Ammon has talked in opposites. For example, when he says “you’re welcome” he actually means, “thank you.” When he says “baby seat” he actually means he wants to sit at a grown-up seat. When he says “black” he means “white,” and visa versa. For the longest time he said “uh-uh” to every.single.question even when he probably meant to say, “uh-huh!”. And when he screams, “LIKE IT!!!!”, what he’s really trying to say is that he doesn’t like it and wants one of his sisters to stop singing/talking/looking at him.
2. Repeating. This is what put the kibosh on my potty-training dreams. Right now Ammon repeats whatever you say as if he totally understands and is agreeing to what you’re explaining, even when he actually has no idea what you’re talking about and doesn’t agree at all. E.g.: “Ammon, do you want to stop playing here at the park and go home?'” Ammon: “Stop. Park. Go. Home.” Or “Ammon, do you see the pretty bird?” Ammon: “Pretty. bird.” Blank stare ahead. Can you imagine what potty training would be like? I can: “Ammon, do you need to go potty?” Ammon: “Need. go. potty.” And off we would go running to and from the potty all day long, world without end, amen. We need to make a little more progress in the life-comprehension stage before we attempt such a feat as potty training.
3. Nicknames. Ammon has given everyone a nickname, except for Abe and me. The nicknames are sticking. Mary is Mare, Lydia is Lyddie, Clarissa is Kessa, and Nana is (sometimes) Nina.
4. Food. When Ammon has a tantrum, I soothe him by reciting what he will eat at his next snack or meal. I am not joking. It works every time. He will literally stop screaming so that he can sputter, “toast, egg, water, meatball” in between hyperventilations. After about four food items we are usually in the clear and the tantrum is over.
5. Joy. Ammon so far is the most exuberant child I have ever birthed. [The exception might be Lydia at age 6. Up until this year she was a little bit of an emotional train wreck, but this year she is so happy it is almost problematic. Her happiness expresses itself in joyful shouts, stomps, and loudness all around. We are, nevertheless, very relieved to see she has turned this emotional corner.) Ammon’s default mode is joy, and most of the time (when he is not melting down over some two-year-old problem) his eyes literally sparkle with mischief, humor, and glee. He wants to do everything and try everything–especially when it comes to food! We can’t bring a food to the table without Ammon demanding some of it, even if he has some already on his plate. I guess he’s suspicious that we are withholding the good stuff, and he wants to make sure nothing yummy escapes his plate. When he’s not scaring me to death, Ammon makes me happy all day long. I love every inch of him, from his wide, fat feet to his sparkly hair. He is my pudgy little piece of joy.

Clarissa has been sick for several days, and I took her to the doctor today to make sure she wasn’t going to get pneumonia. So far she just has a little infection in her lungs, so the doctor told me to watch her and make sure she doesn’t suddenly get a high fever. In the meantime, I am dousing her nose with saline spray and suctioning out her snot.

She is really stealing my heart with how bravely she is handling this cold. It is a nasty one and half the time I fear she will choke on her mucus. Last night she did just that before vomiting twice. My poor baby. But I love her so much for being so sweet and soldiering through the suffering.

 

On Sunday evening we walked the girls around the neighborhood to their primary teachers so they could deliver their thank-you cards. When Mary was talking to Lydia’s teacher, Mary informed her that Monday was going to be the “best day every because Daddy is going to be home and is going to play all day with us!”

Abe had promised the girls to play with them because even though he’s been home all week, his quota was taking a lot of his time. The amazing thing is that he met his quota on the very last day of the year!! It felt like a miracle.

Anyway, on Monday Abe took the kids out to breakfast and then came home and played with them until the evening. He played puzzles, “Nobody Leaves the Room!”, held a dance party, and did other games with them. Then he turned around and switched gears to help me completely de-Christmasisfy the house and clean it top to bottom.

When we were done we celebrated by going to bed early so we could get up for Insanity. We skipped staying up until midnight so we could start the new year off at a bracing 5am with an Insanity work out. It’s actually really fun to do together.

This is a random picture that I think I forgot to post earlier. It’s not from Monday, but it’s cute, so here:

“O god, thou art my God; early will I seek thee: my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is,

To see thy power and thy glory, so as I have seen thee in the sanctuary.

Because thy loving kindness is better than life, my lips shall praise thee.

Thus will I bless thee while I live: I will lift up my hands in thy name.

My soul shall be satisfied as with marrow and fatness, and my mouth shall praise thee with joyful lips;

When I remember thee upon my bed, and meditate on thee in the night watches. Because thou hast been my help, therefore in the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice.” Psalm 63 v.1-7.

This Christmas I have felt a visceral longing for God. This psalm speaks to that ache, that divine shadow where my soul rejoices.

As a child witnessing the story of Christmas in church and in creches, I loved to look at the comfortable tableaux of the mangered babe nestled safely between Mary and Joseph. Never once did I discern a trace of irony in its presentation. Instead, the straw bed seemed appropriate for the King of the World; after all, didn’t it glow gold in the light?

For years the nativity story retained a peaceful aura for me. This luminescent scene annually awakened glimpses of glory, worshipful adoration, feelings of awe both familiar and fresh.

But this year something felt different. Before awe and adoration I felt, above all, wonder. God, who art Thou, that comes to me in the form of a baby, lying helplessly in the feeding trough?

When I look at a nativity scene, I discern ironies, an ache. The juxtapositions embedded in a scene that not long ago sweetly supported my assumptions about God spur me to journey in question farther than I have before.

For example: I used to think that you came to earth the way you did because, of course. I had always known you to annually appear as the Baby Jesus, just as every Christmas comes complete with carols, cookies, and a tree.

But you hid the essence of divine nature in this seasonal showcase. You are the God of the unexpected. Those who have ears to hear, let them hear.

The people of your day expected a political messiah, someone who would free them from an undeniably brutal, unjust Roman regime. And here you came, a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes, with the Slaughter of the Innocents at your heel. As the mothers in Israel wept over their slain sons, were you yet the God they needed? Am I, another mother in Israel, to trust my precious ones to you knowing full well what happened to them?

But I do. Obviously I do. Didn’t David answer that himself? “Thy loving kindness is better than life.” And: “O god, thou art my God.”

And you will teach me to find you where I have come to assume you are not. I will find you in the unmet expectation, the flat out disappointment, the shadowy doubt, maybe–probably!–even the cliché. The next time someone goes to the pulpit and recites a rehearsed script with conviction, instead of feeling annoyed and impatient, I will look for You, my God who hides in plain sight. I know I will find you in every place I assumed you were not.

I will rejoice in the shadow of the divine wing. Here are some of my shadows, where I expect our meeting: Polygamy. The way Joseph Smith practiced polygamy. The patriarchal order of the church and the temple. Do You love women? Do You love us as much as You love men? Do You love me?  I weep that I have to write the question, and Lord, I expect to find You here, in the ache. We will meet and you will cause me to bless you while I live. I believe this because I know about the babe in the manger, the filled inn.

More shadows: Blacks and the priesthood–why the lag?? Why isn’t Your church at the vanguard of social progress? Shouldn’t the church light the way for the world? And while we’re at it, how come LGBT people are not allowed to hope for the tremendous, blessed, sweet marriage I enjoy? Why is this crown of existence available to only a few?

Lord, whose ways are not my ways, meet me here.

You meet me with the flight to Egypt; Rachel, who would not be comforted, those slain little boys–those sweet, tender boys.  

This Christmas You are why I wonder, and adore.

On Friday morning the girls decided to have a tea party. We all joined in and had a tea party breakfast. Abe had gotten up early to do cross fit with Lucas, so I supplemented the sweets and hot cocoa with avocado toast, eggs, and Hawaiian poke. I don’t know how many tea parties involve poke, but there’s a first for everything.

In the afternoon we tried to go ice skating, but we forgot to check the rink hours, and it turned out to be lesson time instead of free skate time. We headed home and the kids played outside instead. It was almost sixty degrees out!

Then Abe headed to get a hair cut and our fabulous piano tuner came to tune the piano. I took the kids outside again while my mom watched Clarissa sit in the Mamaroo inside.

In the evening we headed to Lehi to meet up with Karin, Jay, Jere and David for Thai food.

After we got the kids to bed, Abe and I watched some classes in my new Master Class package. Abe got me an all access pass to Master Class for Christmas, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. I was also shocked because I didn’t even mention that I wanted a Master Class pass, but I had longingly watched the Annie Liebowitz ad several times. Abe didn’t know any of that but managed to be inspired enough to get me what I secretly wanted for Christmas anyway! Isn’t that amazing? We loved the few classes we watched before I fell asleep.

On Thursday I finally, finally got a hair cut to fix the bad one I got months ago. I absolutely LOVED Lindsay, my new hairdresser, who is also now my friend. The first thing Lindsay did when she saw me was light up and say, “I’m so excited! I love cutting ethnic hair!” I about fell over. In thirty-four years, no one has ever said that to me. Usually at best they tell me I have really thick hair and then admonish me to schedule more time to cut it if I come back.

Anyway, Lindsay and I immediately clicked. I felt so open with her, and she ended up telling me about her struggles with addiction and how she got clean a couple years ago. We talked about lots of other things too, including everything from secret gold mines in the mountains to family to the second coming. When she was done with my hair, we gave each other big hugs. I love her and hope she never moves.

I rushed home to try to get Abe to go to her, but he didn’t have time. He was busy wheeling and dealing, trying to hit his quota. It looks like, against all odds, he will hit!! But it’s taking years off of his life stretching to make it there.

Then I went to my physical therapy and had another great interaction with my doctor’s assistant. She was so nice.

Lydia and my mom had a Nana-Lydia date while I was in therapy and Abe took the other kids around town on errands.

At 6:30 Abe picked me up and we headed into Salt Lake to go to Trader Joe’s and then see the lights with Tom.

On Wednesday we just stayed home all day. I literally did not step outside all day, and by the end of the day I started feeling like I was caught in a Maurice Lautrec painting; around 8pm the whole house appeared to take on a greenish cast. Since I am not, as Lautrec was, addicted to absinthe (absinthe can make you see the world as slightly more green), I suspected I was starting to feel depressed. Being stuck on the couch nursing in poor lighting can make me feel that way. I addressed the problem by going straight to bed.

Before then it wasn’t such a bad day. I had a lovely time with Mary during a Mary Mommy date. We made cookies together. I am reading The Shack, and the abduction of the little girl struck horror in my heart. I resolved to spend a lot more nurturing time with my kids because you never know what lies ahead. So I tried to put a lot of love into our activity, and at the end Mary said it was the best time ever.

Abe got some good news from work, and so he has a little hope for his quota. He took a little break between work calls to play with Clarissa. She adores Abe and gives him her best smiles.