Family = Heaven

The past two weeks have been wonderful in spite of suffering a stinky cold for 8 of those precious 13 days.

Jeni was able to come with the kids for almost two weeks. It was so fun to get a room ready for the children to stay in. Setting up the Pack-n-Play, borrowing a toddler bed then making them up with some warm blankets and anticipating seeing the sweet beings who would be sleeping in them was almost as good as the reality. We picked them up at the airport close to midnight on the 15th. I was able to get a special pass and go through security to meet them at the gate so I could help Jeni with the kids. It was totally unnecessary. She had everything all organized and could have met us at baggage claim without my help but it was fun to see them ASAP. As we were walking the long hallways to Bag Claim we were telling Fitz that we were going to find Papa now. He whipped his little head around from side to side several times while saying, "I don't see him! I don't see him!" He sure loves his Papa and was so excited to see him and come home with us. It was hard to put them right to bed but they were ready as it was about 3 o'clock in the morning for them when we finally made it home.

It was fun to have them in the nursery then next day with me and cuddle and hold Swede as much as I wanted. She was so well behaved and sat in her chair without a problem during snack time. During singing time she was enthralled, trying to sing along or lead the 'music'. 'Ram-Tam-Tam' has become one of her favorite songs and she does it really well.

That evening we had all the kids over for a dinner of Taco Soup and a most delicious coconut cake that Jen made. Jeni, Fitz, Swede, Jason & Jen+Sophie, Daniel, Stephanie & Jon, and Steve's brother Pete were there and we were actually able to sit at the table...with a lot of getting up for the kids.

The days were full of visits and outings: 3 trips to Springville to see Papa & Gramma Great as well as cousins Shannon & Jamison, Melissa and baby Jack, Aunt Lisa and her children and Uncle Kyle.

Chloe came over with her children Max & Xavier several times, and once with her husband Dan. One time included a trip to BYU to the museum.

A baby shower for Jen who's due any time...eek!

Outings with Stephanie to the Dinosaur museum, and to the Mall with her boyfriend Jon.

A cold outing to Gardner Village with a treat of fried breaded avocados with a creamy salsa for Jeni and I and suckers for the kids.

Dinner in Orem with the other Great Grampa.

Visits to friends and from friends.

Amidst all the running around there were tantrums and hilarity, giggles and tears, welcome nap-time and sleep deprived, volatile, zombie-midgets wandering around wailing like melting miniature banshees. I heard the sweetest prayers ever uttered by infant lips as well as the funniest stories ever invented to teach a child not to constantly pick his nose. Who would have thought that "The Three Little Pigs" could be updated to "The Three Little Robots" wherein the homes were made of movies, computers and solid concrete reinforced with steel, and the wolf is now a lonely giant robot who goes, "CLINK-CLANK-KLUNK! CLINK-CLANK-KLUNK!"? Fitz loves that story and Swede would listen, engrossed, while whispering the Swede equivalent of "CLINK-CLANK-KLUNK! CLINK-CLANK-KLUNK!" at the appropriate times.

Papa's leaving in the morning and coming home at night became highlights of the day. Hugs and kisses, feeding the fish, and a visit with the cat-who-sometimes-lives-in-our-garage were moments of awe and delight for them in the morning. Papa was the only one who could do these things with the children and he loved those special moments that were only his. Then we'd raise the blinds in the front window and Fitz and Swede would stand on the window ledge and wave and kiss the glass until Papa disappeared into his car. As soon as the car rolled down the street Fitz would turn and say mournfully, "I miss him!! I miss him!!" with the most tragic face a 2 1/2 year old could have.

In the evening we'd mention that Papa would be coming home soon and there'd be hopeful peeks out the window and eventually he'd come in the door and shrieks of delight and clapping, interspersed with "Papa! Papa!" would erupt from Swede as she ran towards the sound of his voice waving her hands, only to stop just short of him then shyly tiptoe away coquettishly until he picked her up and kissed her then asked her if she wanted to go see the kitty.

We had dinners accompanied by Papa playing the guitar and singing the ABC song along with other silly, made-up songs to keep Fitz in the kitchen long enough to wheedle some bites of dinner into his reluctant mouth. I don't know where he gets all his energy! He must suck it, vacuum-like,  from the adults around him because he burns off the tiny amounts he eats running around between bites. Oh my gosh! I've never seen such energetic non-eating dinner times. I was tempted to duct tape him to the chair, but I don't think even the industrial strength tape would hold him for long.

Fitz loved playtime with Papa just before bed. It always involved cars, and fanciful storylines that could include anything from giant babies to dinosaurs, Noah's Ark animals and/or a giant stuffed tiger, all living together in a playhouse...as well as an unwelcome tip-toeing baby sister who could spoil the fun at any time. "NO BABY! NO!" was often shouted in frustration and was sometimes accompanied by an angry shove or slumped shoulders and a tragic face of 'pity me' woe. Poor Fitz. It's so hard to be two.

Yesterday, the last full day they were here, was sweetly memorable in so many ways. I suppose that its being the 'last day' was a big part of that but it would have been wonderful at any time and I was finally feeling better and had my voice back! It had been missing for almost a week.

We decided to take one more trip to Springville so that Fitz and Jamison could play together again. Fitz was a complete pill that morning and was forced to take a nap. Poor Jeni had to listen to pitiful pleas of, "Mommy! Mommy! I love you! Please let me out, open the door! I love you!" as she held the door closed to the downstairs bedroom where she'd prepared a nice nap bed for him. Telling herself, 'He needs this. This will be a good thing for him,' while her mother's heart squeezed in love and concern. He fell asleep and his bad mood was healed. He woke later all smiles and charm. All was forgiven and forgotten. He even had a good lunch. Naps are a good thing. He was able to go on a four wheeler ride with Papa Great. He called the wheeler a 'Tank' and was Very Reluctant to ride. He finally succumbed, but only if he could ride tucked between Papa Great and Nana. But as we pulled away he wailed in fear, "Mommy! Help! Help me Mommy!" He then went on another ride with his mommy and Papa G, but was happy when the motor was turned off. It was the noise. He said, "I no like it! Too nosey, Papa, too nosey!" My dad had such a good time talking to him about it and teasing him about waking the Tank up again, to which Fitz would say, "No, its seeping Papa, it seeping. I no like it, too nosey."

By the time we left late that afternoon, he was calling them Papa Gate, and Gamma Gate and giving them kisses and hugs and knuckle punches. As we pulled away he said mournfully, "I love dem Mama! I miss dem. I miss dem!" Even timid Swede had started to warm up to my friendly, boisterous, teasing father. She has such a charming way of drawing people in with her shy little dimpled smiles and tip-toeing grace. I love that we had that time with my parents. I want my grandchildren to love them as I do.

Last night we had breakfast for dinner and invited everyone over again. Jason & Jen+Sophie and Jen's sister Sarah, Daniel & Hillary, Stephanie & Jon, Jeni, Fitz and Swede and Steven and I.

A wonderful quiche with sour cream and salsa, gingerbread pancakes with lemon, ginger, or real maple syrup and lots of conversation, laughter and love.

I'm so full...of love and sadness, tenderness and and need.

This morning I got to gently wake a sleeping Fitz who responded with, "Mee-me a-wown Nana! I seeping," feed Swede her breakfast for the last time; one more Ram-Tam-Tam and an ABC song. Then hugs and kisses and sweet, early morning goodbyes at the airport. It went way too fast.

It may feel like I'm looking on the abyss but...on to the next thing. Sophie is due at any time and I'm so excited to have Jason, Jen and baby Sophie move in in March for a couple of months or so. Something to look forward to. Time with a loved son and daughter and another new grand-daughter! How fun is that? When a door closes there's always a window for the sunshine to come in. I'm a blessed woman.

What to do in cold January...

For some reason, after the holiday rush of December, the overindulgence of gastronomical delights, the intense warmth - soul and body - of family gathering and all the extreme emotions that come with the season, I feel pressed into a sort of stitching hibernation in order to reach a comfortable inner balance. It's not just the hours of hand work and the things that get finished, it's the long hours of pondering, and thought sorting that happen during that time that smooths out the rough edges, and calms my spirit. I look forward to January in that sense. Some may dread that boring 'month after the month before' but I treasure it. It's the perfect month for Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, the books of Mosiah, Alma and Ether, the four Gospels, and some vibrant color in the gray coldness of mid-winter. It's the most healing January therapy I can think of.

To give myself some credit, I did have a reason to work on these things other than just therapy. I teach a class every month on a quilt inspired by the Farmer's Wives from the 1920's and decided to feature some things that they might have done in the depths of the bitter months of winter. These are things they might have made sitting next to a warm fire while listening to the radio shows with their families, along with other mending. I have to think that beauty and color were just as therapeutically important to them in that freezing monochromatic time as it is for me.

I dug out my collection of embroidery floss and added a few more colors. Just looking at all these vibrant shades and envisioning them in finished projects made my fingers itch to start a new project...but I promised myself that I must finish some old ones first. 

I dug out an old pattern I've had for a couple of years and spent a few days listening to some Charles Dickens while I stitched away. It measures about 4 1/2" x 3 1/4" when closed. I love it. It's stitched over 28 count even weave linen over two threads, except for the tiny flowers which are stitched over 1.

I really got into the Biscornu thing too. The word "Biscornu" is derived from a French adjective, meaning skewed, quirky, or irregular. It is pronounced "biss-core-new". A stitched Biscornu is an oddly shaped tuffet or pincushion. I downloaded several cross stitch patterns and finished this one from last year. It's made from two squares, each stitched off center of the other. They make loverly pincushions. Simply adorable.

 

If you haven't realized how addicted I am to this type of therapy by now this next one will certainly spell it out for you. It's a scissor fob. I haven't attached the loop that actually fastens to your scissors but it's supposed to identify your scissors so as not to loose them.

It's about 1 1/4" square and has beads layered to make the blackberry. I just think it's dang cute and will probably turn it into a broach or scarf ring.

This next item was inspired by a blank space left on my wall where a small quilt hung but was borrowed for a quilting display at a local museum. It was designed and sewn while listening to "Mansfield Park". I wanted something springish but I also wanted it to go with the romance of February. I call it "Love Grows". I still have to do a bit of embroidery work and quilt it before I hang it in that blank spot though. It's about 36" square and made entirely from my scrap basket. :)

So there, I must be the most balanced person on the planet by now. I should probably act like it.

1's Good

We went out to dinner last night, or should I say late afternoon. I think we left at 4 pm, so as not to get caught in the crush. The Olive Garden was our destination. It was very yummy. I had Limoncello Chicken Scaloppini and a Berry Acqua Fresca to drink, which was pretty much a dessert too. I would recommend them both. I even have leftovers for lunch today which is even better. (As an aside I will mention that it was exactly 9 degrees outside after dinner at 5:15) Then when we got home we snuggled up on the couch with a quilt and watched a movie together. One of our favorites, "Galaxy Quest". So sentimental and swooney. Not. All in all it was very nice.

At dinner my husband asked me what my New Year's resolutions were. I gave it some thought and told him a few things, (I've since amended them) then I asked him what his were. He said, "My New Years Resolution is to love you forever and ever and for always and always."

I laughed out loud. "You say that every year! Is it that hard that you have to try again each year?" I asked incredulously.

He grinned, "No, it's easy. I like to do easy things. I know I can do this one and I succeed every year. I win!" Then he kissed my hand.

Yeah, he wins. I have a good and loving man who cares about me and my happiness. If that's his New Year's Resolution every year then I win too.

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I know that time is relative; that the measuring of it is a man made thing. That a new start could begin at any time one chooses, be it in the middle of a day, week or month. But there is something about a New Year that brings with it a sense of obligation to reflect on one's past, a needful pause in one's life for an inward measuring of character and growth, and a renewed energy in the ongoing resolve to be better. Why is that? In any case, it's probably as essential to the world as a whole as it is for the individual.

A new beginning is a good idea. I think it's always a good idea. Not just at the beginning of a new year. I think I'll start 'new' several times this year just to keep in practice.

Therefore my 1st resolution will be:

1. I'll start "New" whenever I feel like I need to. I won't wait for a New Year. I'll just chuck the calendar when it comes to reflection and change. If the skin I'm wearing becomes too uncomfortable, dry, scratchy, unbecoming, I'll get rid of it. Of course that means I'll have to be Aware, which does take some work. It means I have to Care more, Forgive more (including myself), and...other things. This is already getting a bit heavy. Maybe I'll just stop at 1.

Yeah, 1's good. It symbolizes beginning. It's more than zero which is better than nothing and it always leads to more than one. A nice simple straight line. No curves, no loops. Just...

1

Okay, I'm done.