Dance, History, and the Kindness Temperature

K.J. and Olivia are performing in their dance recital this weekend. They each take ballet and tap -- and love it -- and the theme of their recital is "circus." The last two days we've driven into the local metropolis so they could rehearse. Dress rehearsal is today and then the performances are on Friday and Saturday. That's a long week.
Last night I got there a little early to pick them up, and Olivia thought we were leaving when Maria, the studio head and my boss of awesomeness, called everyone together to run act II again. I thought Olivia was going to give up the ghost. She actually froze at the door and was practically hyperventilating. "I can't do it again! I can't do it again!" She was actually moaning. I tried to encourage her "I know, this is the hard part! But you can do it just one more time, I promise!"
Apparently she couldn't.
Maria saw her paralyzed in the doorway and started to laugh. She very graciously excused us, since K.J. and Olivia had done "so well today!"
That's a lot of grace, I tell ya.
Olivia regained her ability to move and quickly made a break for the car.
She then promptly fell asleep for the half hour drive home.
It was both cute and pathetic -- she was a tired little midget. That's a lot of hard work when you're five! That final week of rehearsal for any production is evil, though. I have had one or two moments of paralysis in my past, as well.

I love that my kids are loving to dance so much. It is giving K.J. the confidence and coordination he needs. It is giving Olivia a way to express herself and develop a natural talent.
Awesome.
Dancing was my first great passion and I'm so happy to share that with my kids. As long as they want it, I am happy to provide them the opportunity, just like my parents did for me.
And if the fact that Katelyn runs out into the middle of the dancers every chance she gets is any indication, she might want that opportunity, too.

You might not know this about me: I simply adore history. About half of my books are histories and biographies and they have been loved passionately. And I think it's time for that collection to grow -- I was looking at books yesterday and the only ones I really wanted to buy (besides Magic Tree House, Judy Moody, and Fancy Nancy, of course) were about people -- especially the new autobiography written by Colin Powell. Basically, if you write an autobiography, I am going to want to read it. So all of you should get going. I will buy your book.

In closing, just a little encouragement for us all to be kind. If we all speak kindly about one another's strengths, weaknesses, ideals, religion, and plans, we should each be well on our way to a great weekend. Just a friendly belief that no one's values should be squashed or degraded in our desire to express ourselves.  

Happy Thursday, friends. You are important.

Olivia and the Nemeny.

Masterpiece by Olivia.

Courtesty of ClipArt.

I survived speaking in church.
My chest was actually tight up there like maybe I was going to have a heart attack. But I just decided to go with it and if I dropped dead it would add some excitement to the meeting.
It's the most interesting thing -- I can honestly say I rarely if ever have difficulty standing in front of people, I guess because of years and years of practice -- except at church. Then it's... scary.
But I lived through it.
Add the excitement and fun of singing time squared, and I was out for the count on Sunday. The Double B kindly made dinner but made me sit at the table to eat with the family (something about family togetherness or something). I don't remember much about it except the Double B patting my leg and murmuring "They're only trying to help." So... yeah. Mother of the Year there.
And then we watched 'America's Funniest Home Videos' over and over again on Netflix and I don't remember what happened for the rest of the day.
Being the music leader in primary is really a darn good time. I am already loving it... but then, what is not to love? You get to boogy to awesome primary songs for two hours with funny people. But it makes me t-i-r-e-d like a baby chicken afterwards. I'm hoping I become less sissified in the future.
Here's hoping.

Yesterday the father of the household and I sat our kids down to talk about Memorial Day and what it means. We talked about some of the wars that have been fought and why, and how thankful we are that there have been brave men and women willing to sacrifice so much so we can be happy and free. The Double B's Dad is a WWII veteran. He is 87 years old. The Double B is 31. We think this puts the Double B in the running for youngest Baby Boomer ever. My husband the Baby Boomer then told the kids some of the stories of what Grandpa B experienced in the medical corp in the South Pacific. Sometime during the dialogue Olivia got up and started rummaging in the paper and crayons cupboard. She sat down and got to work. When she was done, she asked if she could show the whole family something. It was a picture of her smiling, with an "nenemy" in the background, holding a gun, also with a happy little smile on his face. She said she was thankful those brave men protected her from the "nenemies."
Okay.
She then redrew her picture for the her best quality work and asked me to tell her all the letters in "I love you men -- soldiers." Which she promptly wrote at the top of her picture since she's got a lot of practice at following letter prompts -- one of her grand passions.
Basically, it's a masterpiece.
As soon as I high-jack the picture uploading mechanism back from the Double B's tyranny, I'm putting it up here. Because this you must see.
Or at least that is my ambition.
She and K.J. asked to sing 'I'm Proud to be an American,' and then we went and picked our prettiest roses to take to the cemetery to put on the graves of my children's great-great grandparents and on the grave of a woman who inspired and impacted my life.
The Double B then had a few hours of intense frustration and mumbling as he replaced the brakes and rotors on the family vehicle, and then we had a very great time barbecue-ing with family, visiting and laughing, and looking at pictures from central Utah. My grandparents headstone looked so beautiful, and that made me happy. Because they are awesome.
A happy Memorial Day.

But still.
The best part for me was definitely the "I love you men -- soldiers" part.

Being a Mom is cool.

The End.

Commencement, Cubed.

This morning Olivia was sharing in the nicest way with her nearly two-year-old, fit-throwing sister. Olivia would talk calmly and reasonably as she would dish up a spoonful for herself and then for her sister as Kate tried as hard as she could not to flip out while waiting for the next bite.
I said "Olivia, you are the sweetest girl." Because she just is, folks.
She gave me a dazzling smile and said, "I was born to be that way!!!"
My heart was touched.
A) Because that was a very tender and kind thing to say.
B) Because that was a very wise thing for her to say, and a very true thing for her to say. For me personally, it had special spiritual significance for my little five-year-old daughter to say those words.

Being a Mom is cool.

It's been a busy week as far as graduations go.
Mariah's went well -- she had a great day. On the way home she thanked us, because she never really thought she would graduate from high school, and yet here she was -- she did it. We accepted her thanks, because it was sort of like pulling teeth to get her to this moment. Painful. Bloody. The Double B told her to call her former foster family (good friends of ours) and tell them thank you, because they had a big part to play in getting her here, too. I hope she does. Either way, thanks, friends. You are most excellent people. Pat on the back. The root canal is over.

K.J. was feeling a little left out as far as the graduation train is concerned. Liv graduated last week, Mariah this week. So on the last day of school, he planned a graduation for himself. (It was very tender when he got home that day -- I flung the door open for a big dramatic hug of congratulations and he just started crying big fat elephant tears. He has a tender heart.) He gave me specific instructions -- I needed to make a diploma and the whole family needed to be there. So, that night, that is just what we did. He marched down the hallway as we all hummed 'Pomp and Circumstance' and took his place sitting on the tv stand. I gave a few words of wisdom "Ladies and Gentleman, we are gathered together today...", everyone applauded, and he was awarded his diploma. Then, in celebration, he got to go out just him and Daddy for some ice cream.

Naturally, last night Olivia felt she deserved her own graduation... this would be her second. Her plans also included a ceremony, a diploma (we just re-presented her preschool diploma -- no originals necessary this time), everyone's undivided attention, and a trip to Dairy Queen just her and Daddy.
Her wish came true.

Now, unless Katelyn miraculously starts saying more then roughly twenty five words and begins forming those words into sentences to express her wish to have her own graduation, I think we should be commencement free for at least another year.
Here's hoping.

Tragically, I have discovered 'Lost' on Netflix. I tend to get sucked into these things...
Also traumatic, I have to speak in church on Sunday. I tend to feel iffy about those circumstances...

Everyone: Have a good weekend. It's summer. Yippie-yi-o-ky-ay.

Over and out.

Higher Education

At breakfast this morning, "college" was the subject of fear and trembling.
The counselor at K.J.'s school had to go for "TWO EXTRA YEARS!!!"
You can just go and go and go to college and never get out. Apparently.

K.J. - I definitely don't want to go to college!

Liv - Yeah, I definitely don't want to go to college, either!

Mom - Why not? I think college is a great idea.

Liv - I don't want to have to stay there!

Mom - College is just school. When you graduate from high school, you can choose to go to college... you don't have to.

Liv - Then I don't want to!

K.J. - Yeah!

Mom - I guess it just depends on what you want to be when you grow up.

K.J. - You don't have to go to college if you're going to be an artist.

Mom - Well, I don't know. I'm an actor, and I went to college.

Liv - You don't have to go to college if you are a rocket builder!

Mom - Actually, you definitely have to go to college if you want to be a rocket builder.

Liv - Oh. (whispers to K.J.) My preschool friend Davis' uncle is a ROCKET BUILDER!

K.J. - I KNOW! You told me that!

Liv - Oh. Mom, they keep rockets in these... rocket things... rocket um... rocket buildings!

Mom - Yep. Cool, huh.

And... scene.
I don't know how college became so scary.
I might need to do some detox here.

I think it might be a little weird, but sometimes while I'm having a conversation with someone I think "This is a very funny conversation. I'm going to memorize it." And I copiously take mental notes while we finish the discussion.
Actually, I do that fairly often.

I think I might have a problem.

In other news, tonight is Mariah's high school graduation. Big day.
Plan on getting a full report (or a sizable report, or a minimal report) later.

Happy Tuesday!

Total Eclipse of the Heart

The eclipse was amazing last night! It was a fun experience for K.J. and I to share -- we were equally fascinated. Actually, he might actually win the Most Fascinated Award, because he created several devices out of paper to see the reflection and didn't want to go inside at all. When I was a kid, space was the most mystical and inspiring thing to me, so it's fun to see him react in a similar way.
We live right along the line where you could see the Ring of Fire, so that was especially radical. Most marvelously, my parents neighbors had a welding mask, so for the first time ever, I actually got to see it in the sky and not just as a reflection.
So awesome.
My parents, brother, sister-in-law T-Bomb, the grand kids, and when forced, The Double B, all watched together. Rad-ical.
Olivia was pretty nervous about the whole thing -- I think the whole "Don't look or you'll go blind" thing was pretty impressive to her -- but she did look through the mask once and thought it was cool.
The ring was so beautiful. Very inspiring. And seeing how the light changed, like you were at twilight or somehow like standing in a shadow, was awesome. Then, to add affect, somewhere in the neighborhood someone was burning something, so it was sort of smokey-smelling, too. AND, if you will believe this, my parents tree was somehow reflecting the light just right and the whole thing was reflected on their house! First a crescent, then the whole circle, then a crescent again. I felt that was rather magical.
Those experiences are very useful to me... something so beautiful and so much bigger then us... very faith-affirming to me. I feel so much gratitude and such a thrill in my heart that we've been given so much beauty and so many witnesses that we have a Father that is Great and also so kind to us.
Eclipse = Awesome.

On a little side note: I think that faith is a gift and we can all have it if we want it and work for it. Your particular brand of faith is your own to seek out what is right and feel the Holy Ghost testify to your heart through your searching and effort. We don't all have to believe the same thing. Personally, I am uplifted by all testimonies of God. I do think one thing would be particularly helpful for all of us: and that is to respect the faith of others. It might not be exactly what you believe, but we all have a duty to be kind and speak kindly of the faith and belief systems of those around us.
Being kind is certainly a way to attract friends.
Being unkind is certainly a way to repel them.

Look at me --
Practically Yoda today.
But it's still true.

This is the same Yoda who went all psycho on my poor innocent brother Jon last night as we drove home from seminary graduation (I know... right?). I don't know when the last time was that I was so petty, hurt and angry all over someone. Poor Jon. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was ugly, let's say that. It was also ridiculous, and of course I didn't feel any better afterwards. I actually felt worse because my words were yucky and I felt the loss of the spirit in my heart. Jon is a saintly person. So the only solution was to call him and apologize for my actions. They were dumb. He was so kind and gracious, of course. "Oh, I know you didn't mean that... You are really under a lot of pressure right now, I understand that... oh, I'm used to that..." etc.
Things that Jon is good at saying and means them, which is one of the reasons he is simply a sensational person. I actually don't know many people under as much pressure as Jon is right now, and yet he is willing to be so gracious to me. His forgiveness and my real feelings of remorse helped calm things down and restore them to some semblance of order. I sat by the Double B as he played his computer game and explained all I'd done and how silly I'd been and we counseled together. Then I remembered a sweet experience I'd recently had thanks to a loving Heavenly Father -- one that reminded me that He knows me and is willing to show me He loves me -- and then I cried a few tears from the very depths and felt able to pick myself up by my bootstraps and start again.
I am a very interesting person. Let's face it.
But this is a very interesting time in my life. Let's face that, too.

I never really know what I'm going to write on here. But I just go with it anyway.

K.J.'s current favorite MJ song is 'Smooth Criminal,' because he is dancing to that in his tap class. We listen to it over... and over... and over. Right before he left for school this morning he came up to me and asked "Mom, what exactly does smooth mean?"
I tried my best to explain in context -- which isn't exactly the easiest thing to do, by the way -- and he sat there for a minute. Then he says "Hm. I wish there was never such a thing as criminals or smooth-ees." And got his back pack, gave me a kiss, said goodbye to his sisters and headed out the door.
What a guy.

Almost summer! YAY!

Pre-School Graduation, And Other News

Yesterday Olivia became a Pre-School Graduate for the second time. But this time, the woman is ready to take on that Kindy-garten beast! She knows her letters, upper and lower case... she knows her colors, shapes, numbers, and... can even recognize about five sight words.

What can I say.

She's a genius, and I made her.

She was so cute. So happy! So we celebrated and had a good time together yesterday.
Olivia's teacher, Ms. Shawna, is amazing with those kids. They adore her and have so many adventures together. We love her and appreciate her, because let's face it -- the credit for all those fetes really belongs to her. (I mean, lower case. LOWER CASE. Holla!)

I love to say "holla." I makes me feel like I possess a smudgeon of soul inside this 5'9" white blond self.

Yesterday I was cleaning Olivia's hair while she took a shower. The water was a little too warm when I sprayed her back with the little appendage and she jumped forward and squealed "That water is so stinkin' hot! It's like roastin' peanuts!!!"

Who says that, I ask you.
Olivia. That's who.

Battle Katelyn rages. We think she is getting her two-year molars. That, or she has plans to just get rid of us for good. What's sort of interesting about the nearly-two stage (and has been for the older two, too) is how incredibly sweet and adorable she can be in between bats of irrationability. My Way or the Highway-ness. I have found the "terrible two's" usually last from about 1 and a half to 2 and a half, though, so we're like... not even half way there.
How cheerful.
We shall call them the terrible and terrific two's.
Dear Katelyn,
One day I will laugh at you when you tell me about how your own almost-two-year-old is probably going to become a bungee-jumper.
Love,
Your #1 fan.

K.J. is so excited for school to be over. Today is "quiet as a mouse day," wherein the second graders have to be completely silent ALL DAY to earn a prize. They wear a little cheese necklace around their necks in case they accidentally peep, they give up a cheese but aren't necessarily out of the game. Interestingly enough, it's supposed to be super fun and he's been SO excited for today! He's gotten back all of his end of the year testing and has scored very well -- right on grade level. We're really proud of K.J. and his efforts, because he's just such a great guy.

Mariah checked out of school yesterday! She is done with her high school career. That's awesome. She has been anxiously awaiting this milestone, let me assure you. I give the Double B and I props, and her last foster family props, because we deserve it. Is someone going to give us a "Congratulations! You Got Her To Graduate!" medal? Because they should. Mariah gets a cap and gown and diploma. We get a psychological pat on the back.
Dear Derek and Melissa,
Congratulations!
Well done.
Here's your medal.
Love,
The Medal Givers

For your Double B update, he has had a weirdo work schedule this week and is actually sitting on the couch about two feet away from me right now. Anything you'd like to say, Double B?
"Hi everyone."
And... scene.
The Double B and I are leaving on our 10th anniversary honeymoon trip in exactly one month and two days.
Currently living and breathing for that moment.
I tell him all the time "Let's just blow this popsicle stand and leave right now! The children can take care of themselves!"
But I married this man in part because of his responsibility. It's very attractive. So the popsicle stand has not been blown.
Last week the Double B sat down and actually read parts of my blog for like... an hour. It is the first time in more then three years he's really sat down to read it. And it made me feel really good, because he liked it.
See? Romance. It's not dead.

Have a wonderful weekend, friends. Summer is almost here!

On A Personal Note

I don't pretend to know what happens inside my Dad's head or his heart.

He is mysterious to me. Mysterious to me in the best, most mystical way.

I only know the man that was and is my DAD -- and it should be in capital letters. MY DAD. Glowing hero -- defender of the rights and feelings of little people. Provider, presider, protector. Friend. Under-dog swing pusher. The one who taught me that I could master my temper by shocking me with tales of how his used to be even worse (unthinkable from the man I have only seen truly angry once -- and it was a sight to behold). Christmas light putter-upper. Jet ride giver. Half of the force it took to convince me that Kindness beings with Me. Mumble under the breather. Merciless teaser. Builder of houses. Builder of others. The man who loves his wife more then anyone else I've seen. Kind. A server. An eye roller. A comforter with faith and stillness and strength. A very patient man. A very humble man.
A very quiet man.

Just my Dad.

My friends were terrified of him when we were children.
My friends were jealous that I had him when we were teenagers.
My friends are amazed by my Dad the Grandpa.

My Dad, you know?

My Dad is a convert to the religion I was raised in and cherish to the very depths of my soul. He is and always has been, with my dear Mother, a teacher of my faith, a builder of my faith, the igniter of my faith. When I sing "True to the faith that my parents have cherished" -- it is for them. It is a sacred responsiblity to me to be true to what they have each sacrificed so much for.
I have spent many hours, days, months, years -- completely at a loss as to why things happened in my Dad's life the way they did -- why my great-grandparents, my grandparents made the choices they did.
How my Dad had the courage to make the choices he did.

Though I can not know all that happens in his mind and his heart -- my parents are so much more then I will probably ever know -- I have always known one thing. One thing without a doubt.

My Dad's choices are his own.
He made the brave choice, the lonely choice, the only choice:
to do what was RIGHT.
Let the consequence follow.

It was his choice. His own.
No one could make him do it. No love could coerce him to do it.
Only Faith could make him take that giant leap.

His own personal faith.

And I think that is beautiful.
My life has certainly been preserved and protected and blessed by that individual choice that saved generations. And saved one little girl -- because I would not be the woman I am without it. I know that choice saved me.
So I thank God for my super DAD.
I wish everyone knew the man I know.
Saw the conviction I see.

I guess not everybody can understand that...
And that's okay.
I can be okay with that.
His family sure enjoys the benefits.

So we'll just be thankful!

My Dad is cool.
Woop-diddy-doo!