The FHE golden hour stretched into a golden week. Pickleball is still our thing. I won with Nick as my teammate and then again with Austin as my teammate. It's obvoius that I'm the golden athlete of the family.
My family room is mostly cluttered with the day's games, books, math assignments, crafts and blankets. There's no need to pretend that no one lives here.
We finished ALL our bookwork for the year! Here are the completed arithmetic books. We worked every problem in all 170 lessons.
We finished 100 lessons in grammar.
We filled 1.5 composition notebooks with daily copy work, handwriting and social study facts.
This is what the playroom looked like all week. I guess it means that lots of tiny people play in there. It also means that the doors close so nicely, and I don't have to see the mess.
"What are we learning today during lunch?" is my favorite question Molly asks. We usually supplement our history or science lessons, but sometimes we watch 5-minute crafts. Learning is a delight -- I'm so glad they know it, too.
Grandma B. is finally home! We've missed her. She bought herself a new bag, and we were bragging to Natalie about it. I just love her.
The deer came and ate the tomatoes, so Austin replanted with his yard crew.
He then let Eddie mow the lawn! Ryan has to sit behind him so Eddie can reach the pedals and the weight sensor lights.
Saturday morning I took my 90 year old friend to the temple. I really need to take a picture with her. Next month.
"Good morning, Mom! Happy Mother's Day! What's for breakfast?" Eddie cheerily greeted me Sunday morning. I just smiled at him and told him to talk to Dad. The three bigs decorated the table and filled it with letters and gifts.
It's the "My Mom" bit that I like the most. It makes me know that he knows that it's not that I "only" have eight children, but that I have eight "only" children.
She's still super irreverent in church -- like that would change in one week. Nice Austin wrangled her.
The primary sang to us. What that really means is that Eddie, Ryan and Molly sang a trio on top of the other 10 children. Family choir serves them so well. The leader totally led the song wrong, but they knew the correct words. (Thank you to their mother who practiced it with them most mornings.)
Maisie spoke in church today. Here is her little anecdote she composed, then she gloated, "I carried the meeting." She was right.
Most people react the same way when they hear the number of children in my family. It takes a second for the shock to wear off, and once they close their dropped jaw they remember their manners and normally say “Wow, that sounds like a busy house!” or if they are more bold, “Your mother is a brave woman.” Then, they normally ask how I get along with 7 siblings, and whether or not they are “just the most annoying” people I know. But none of them really understand what happens when you are part of a big family, especially one as large as mine. Things are easier in a big family. There are enough people for two equal teams for flag football Sundays, enough people that chore time (while there normally is more mess) is cut in half, and enough people that it always feels like there is an army at your back if anything was to go wrong. We love each other, and between my three sisters and four brothers we realize that at the end of our lives, we might not have friends or business partners there to care for us, but we will always have each other.
Vacation time with my family has always been interesting. When there are 10 people going on vacation, there are a few more things to think about. There are too many people to go out to eat, and too many people to buy plane tickets. My parents found the perfect solution. Once a year, we load the twelve-passenger van with two giant coolers of produce and pre-made frozen meals, and pile on top suitcases and beach-toys, creating a hidden pocket of food we pray the people at border patrol will overlook. Once in Mexico, it's a straight shot out of Rocky Point, where we drive an extra hour to a secluded beach with a giant house made of coral stucco and small dark blue tiles lining the doors and the windows. No one is there but us, and the retired Americans who only appear at sunset and sunrise. For five days we spend all our time awake on the beach. All electronics move into my parents room in a box, but no one would be on them if they had the option. From 10 a.m. to whenever the sky goes completely dark, we spend our time on the beach. When the waves are big we are in the ocean, pushing each other, diving for shells to give to mom, letting them crash and roll over us till sand is in the most uncomfortable places, and the salt water gives us teary eyes but happy moods. When the waves are small we lay on towels, building castles and sculptures, burying each other, and the brothers spend hours chucking wet sand as hard as they can at whoever forgets to watch their back. When the wind blows cold we go for long walks along the sandbar, and when the wind blows hot we lay in the sun and read books, always fighting to become the “tannest” sibling. We play kickball and baseball, we race and roll down sand dunes, we see who can jump the farthest, and who can catch the most crabs. For 5 days, we think of nothing but ourselves, and by thinking of ourselves, we think of nothing but each other. “Maisie, come build this with me!” my little brother asks. “Meg, come paddle out with me to see the porpoises” I ask my older sister. “Dad, this dinner is delicious!” and “Mom look how tan I am” and a million other sayings just like these is all that is said. It is less about where we are, but who we are with that makes this vacation the happiest time in my life.
All I want in my future is a family like my own. I understand having 8 children will not be easy, and maybe I won’t ever hit that number, but a big family rooted in each other is something that is in every memory of my very happy childhood. To have a big family is to win the biggest lottery available in this world. To have a big family is to go on vacation to isolated locations and find enough company in each other. To have a big family is to make huge sacrifices in every different category in life. To have a big family is to put each other first, and self second. To have a big family is to get pushed down, and helped up. To have a big family is to have a “secret” favorite sibling you confide in. To have a big family is to help your mom fold piles of laundry. To have a big family is to take up an entire pew at church, and to sing the loudest in the congregation. And this is what I want. I want my future children to love each other, and to be happy with each other. I want to find our own vacation hole, where we bring our own meals, and only pack two swimsuits and a pair of pajamas. I want them to have inside jokes they don’t think I know about and confide in each other before they confide in me. I want 8 babies, and I want them to be happy. Our vacations to Mexico have taught me how lucky I am to have the family I do, and because of these trips, and other times spent with my family, I will put myself in a situation where I will have a big family, and be able to give all my time and attention to them. They make me happier than any career or position of power could.
Andy called me today. He thanked me for teaching him about Jesus Christ. He told me that he knows how to love, because he watches me. He told me that he loved me, and I wept and told him that he is just the boy I've always loved.
He said that Elder Morrison is visiting this week. So he'll be traveling in the commuter van and learning right at his heels. They will visit most zones in the mission, and "I'll have the opportunity to speak to the entire mission. That actually happens to me a lot -- that I have to teach just by the spirit." And a few more quotes: "We had a baptism today." Also, "In July the other two APs go home along with 8 zone leaders and several STLs. I will have to train so many new missionaries. I'll also turn 20, and that's so old! And, then I'll only have six months left. That's the same amount of time I served in Murfreesboro."
Meg called me as well. We talked about a whole lot of nothings that make up a whole lot of somethings. She was patient when the children came and went. She was patient when I had to go, because dinner was calling. She's a dream girl. Her mothering is coming soon, and she will be so good at it.
It's humbling to be a mother. It's even more humbling to be THE mother to certain children of God. What He has planned for their lives based on their love for Him and their obedience to Him is unfathomable. May I be a witness to their growth and grandeur is my mother's plea.
"Behind every amazing kid is a mother who is pretty sure she is messing everything up" (Hank Smith).
The day finished nicely with a family walk/ride, trampoline time and choir.
Little Miss and I were twinning.
Mother's Day Family Choir I just lowered all your expectations. You're welcome.
And now lovely quote about motherhood from Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm: "To become sensible of oneness with the divine heart before any sense of separation has been felt, this is surely the most beautiful way for the child to find God." And that's what I think motherhood is: Teaching and nurturing all living, especially children, to know God from a very small age, even at an age where there separation from Him is never felt.
