Origins and Inspiration

Sleigh bells. Candy canes. Angels. Manger scenes. Stockings. Santa Claus. Reindeer. All the trappings for a perfect holiday season. Except at our house we needed something more.

Last Christmas the kids came home from school with the typical array of decorations and colored pages. Then Aiden presented me with a delicious surprise. At first glance I saw a standard reindeer with handprint antlers. Another clever use of kindergarten-sized mitts. Then I noticed the reindeer’s expression. Rather than a jolly, “merry Christmas” style grin, I was faced with severe eyebrows, a down-turned mouth, and rather ferocious teeth. It fairly growled at me.

I laughed. “Why is your reindeer so angry?” I asked.

Aiden looked at it and said, “He’s evil.” No further explanation.

But now I had an evil reindeer on my hands. I couldn’t have imagined a more thorough contradiction to everything Christmas represents. I guess if you think about it, a reindeer could have plenty to be angry about during this time of year. I’d be pretty grumpy, too, if I had a worldwide trip ahead of me with no allowances for nasty weather and nothing to keep my toes warm on snowy rooftops.

I doubt Aiden put that much thought into the “why” of his angry reindeer, but the mere contradiction completely hit my funny bone. The evil, angry reindeer promptly found a spot on the refrigerator door, where it remained long after the other Christmas decorations had returned to their boxes. I just didn’t have the heart to take it down because it came to represent several things for me. It served as a reminder of how my kids brighten my days. How their views of the world make me smile. How each member of our family is individual and creative and inspiring. How I can find joy in the smallest moments. How love can grow sometimes imperceptibly and sometimes by leaps and bounds so my heart feels like it will burst.

Eventually I did remove the angry reindeer from its place of honor on the refrigerator. Mostly I was afraid it would get ruined if left there too long. It needed to be preserved in the safety of the filing cabinet. But every so often I will open the reindeer’s secluded drawer just to put that smile back on my face, to remember that life can be unexpected and inexplicable and maybe even a little bit wicked but wonderful just the same.

Proud Mama Moments

Here we are creeping up on [actually more like bounding toward] the end of the school year, and before we leave it all behind I want to make mention of a few notable items. April and May have been particularly busy and eventful.

Caleb: Starting in December, Caleb participated in the winter drumline. This was new to me, so if you're also wondering what that is, let me briefly explain. It's basically like a marching band field show minus all the wind instruments -- percussion only here -- and is performed indoors. They practiced many hours during the week and on Saturdays, which practice ultimately payed off. They took 2nd place in the state competition for their show titled "Dante's Inferno." If you want a sampling of what they looked like, here's part of it. This is early in the season, so they still had some work to do. Caleb is the lanky hooded figure in the front row on the left side.

Marissa: The last few months for Marissa were filled with basketball and track. She has been practicing with the high school basketball teams and participating in some tournaments with them. Her time to shine, however, was at the regional track meet. She competed in the shot put and 4 x 100 relay. Her relay team came in 4th place. But best of all, she won the shot put for the 8th grade girls with a distance of 32' 11"! And ... even with her busy schedule she has stayed on the honor roll and looks like she'll get a 4.0 this term.

Aiden: It's a good thing we like to watch basketball, cause that's what we do. Aiden finished up the regular season well, winning the championship game for 5th graders, and has since been focused on his traveling team. They had some polishing to do since they hadn't really been practicing together, but after a rough start they picked it up and started playing more like a team. In their most recent tournament, they finished in 1st place for their bracket. For school, he had to give an ancestor report in Spanish [that means using mostly past tense!] and got an A+.

Morgan: It may not seem like a big deal to some, but Morgan overcame some anxiety and trepidation to perform two songs in her piano recital. I tried to convince her to perform an original composition she titled "Follow Your Destiny," but she decided it was too personal to share with an audience. She did a wonderful job and was very poised in spite of her butterflies. She also mastered 214 out of 217 spelling words for the 2nd grade and has lovely cursive penmanship which she practices in very sweet letters to all the members of our family.

So there you have it. Sometimes a mom just has to brag. Better than all this, though, is that they are just genuinely good kids. They help me and are kind to each other. We laugh a lot together. I'm not sure how I got to be so lucky!

On the go....fish

Here's something that gave me the giggles the other day.

I was driving Aiden and one of his friends to basketball practice and could hear them in the back of the van playing "Go Fish" with Morgan's set of Lalaloopsy cards. It sounded a little something like this...

Aiden: Do you have Crumbs Sugar Cookie?

Friend: No, go fish. Do you have Mittens Fluff'n'Stuff?

Aiden: Oh man, yes!

This went on for the entire 20 minute drive. Something about these 11-year-old sporty boys talking so seriously about characters like Jewel Sparkle and Dot Starlight made me laugh. I guess they're really softies at heart.

To: Earth

Last Sunday we were singing hymns during our Christmas program at church. We were working on the second verse of Once In Royal David's City. I wasn't thinking particularly deeply about the words until Aiden tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to the first line. "Mom," he whispered. "It says 'To earth from heaven'. Like a gift!"

To: Earth
From: Heaven

What a perfect observation, and how I wish I might have been the one to notice it! Because Christ was heaven's gift to the earth on that night so many years ago, the gift that still gives today and will give eternally. This is the message of Christmas and the reason we have cause to rejoice.

And with that, here's how Caleb's advanced percussion class showed their Christmas spirit. If you can't find Caleb based on height, your second clue is tent.

Merry Christmas!

Write on

I admit, I harbor a selfish wish that one of my children will actually like writing and reading. I know I'm supposed to embrace the individuality and unique talents of each child -- and I really do -- but once in a while I wonder why my kids are so not like me. [That is until I have a completely eerie jinks with my 5-year-old.] Now believe me, in most ways it's a good thing they're not like me. But it would be kind of nice if, for example, I didn't have to assign reading as a summer chore just so I can have an excuse to gobble up the pile of books I've picked up from the library.

Maybe it's still too soon to tell. There's a chance Aiden might have a knack for words. He brought home a story he wrote at school that was gobs and gobs of pages long and which I have yet to read through since it was all out of order and completely confusing. Here's a sample from the first page:

If I were a butterfly, I would go to South America, and grow some facial hair, and then I will travel to New York and make the biggest smile, and then put it on Lady liberty and take a picture...

That's an intriguing and entirely random beginning, and I see some creative promise [or something?]. I'll let you know how it ends -- if I ever figure out which page is the end.

I've been getting a kick out of Morgan's budding efforts to express herself with the written word. It's trial and a whole lot of error at this point, but it is highly entertaining.
This morning while I was fixing breakfast, Morgan slapped the following sticky note on my back:

 Care to take a stab at the translation?

Give up?

"I don't like oatmeal." I guess this was her protestation of her cereal options. It also reminded me of another early morning note she wrote a little while ago. This one was actually a conversation which went something like this:

Me: What do you want for breakfast?

Morgan:

nothing

Me: How come?

Morgan:

I am tired

Morgan:

am super tired

Morgan:

and I have to go pee

At this point she left to address the issue. When she returned, I asked if she was ready to eat now, to which she responded:

am still tired.

Fair enough.

All this reminded me of one last thing. For Aiden's 3rd grade spelling, each week he had to take a pretest at home. Then whoever gave him the test was supposed to sign it. Well, one week -- I think this was when I was in Oregon for Spencer's wedding -- everyone was scattered in different directions. Jeremy came home and offered to help Aiden do his pretest. This proved unnecessary, however, as Morgan had already given him the test.

In Spanish.

And signed it.

Complete with a curlicue G.

Yes, we let him turn this in. And yes, his handwriting is barely decipherable. And yes again, those are food and grease spots all over his paper. I think I may owe educators everywhere an apology.

Don't try the dinner special

I'm nursing a bit of a cold, and apparently it has affected my ears. I was fixing dinner when Aiden asked, "Did you season the food?"

"Yep," I said.

Aiden looked puzzled and somewhat disgusted. Then he asked again, "Did you season it?"

Not sure why he felt the need to ask twice, I responded, "Of course! I always season the food."

At this point Jeremy felt compelled to intervene.

"He asked if you sneezed in the food."

Well, now. That's one seasoning I'd rather avoid.   

He might be on to something

Aiden asked the other day if I had to get fingerprinted in order to become a mom.

"To make sure you'll be okay? Like you have to if you work at the school?"

Well, no, but maybe that's not such a bad idea. I've been watching some friends going through the adoption process and am wowed by the extensive work they've done and the scrutiny they've undergone. What if every potential parent had to prove their capability? I'm quite convinced my home studies wouldn't turn out exactly stellar. Just give me a half a day warning. I'll have it spit spot in no time, right? Mmm, maybe not.

Then he wanted to know how "they" decide you get to be a mom. That, I think, is a conversation for another day. 

A few funnies

I've been trying to keep track of some of the funny things I've heard lately, but they're starting to fade. So I'd better record what I still remember before they're gone for good.

Morgan asked me if I went to Kindergarten. I replied, "Yes."
Then she asked if I went to third grade. "Yep."
"Did you go to college?" I did. And it's a good thing, too, as she then extolled the virtues of a higher education.
"In college you learn all kinds of things, like about football, and basketball, and even baseball!"

I finished reading Morgan a bedtime story, and she started to ask for a second.
"I wish I could have have a short, super short story. Like a hundred calorie short!"

Marissa was feeling a bit under the weather and asked for chicken noodle soup for dinner. She got up for a second serving and then ate it standing at the counter. Jeremy asked why she didn't come and sit down. Aiden reasoned, "Maybe it's because she's constipated."
We all looked at him, puzzled, until Jeremy realized, "I think you mean contaminated."

Summer flashback: fish tales

As the season changes and the temperatures cool, I find myself thinking back to summer. Here is something I meant to post a few months ago but neglected. While we were at the cabin we wrote letters to my brother, Spencer, who is on a mission in Wisconsin. Aiden's letter was so great I had to copy it down, and now I wish to share it. I've tried to preserve his wording and spelling as much as possible. Please enjoy.

Dear, Spencer

Me and my dad went fishing and the pole bended so far and so I reeled the fish in and it was tiney. And we went snorkel-ing. We oiled the outhouse. And also I went fishing by the shore and then all of the sudden I lost all of my bait and so I just chose to cast out my line and so it only took me two cast's and then a fish jumped in the air about at least 3 feet in the air it saw a fly and jumped to get the fly and I hirred and cast it out and hit it in the lip and I lost my breath oh wow I caught a fish and I reeled it in and took it to my dad and then about two days later I was fishing and I was chust sitting there on a rock and then there was 3 to 5 fish just right by the shore and so I reeled it in and then Marrissa came and she said hi Aiden and I said shhhhhh and then droped the worm and the bober. And waited about ten seconds and then the fish bit the worm, and then I was like woohooh but then it lost it but the fish was still not done it bit it again and it did that a couple times wait a secon-d. I forgott somthing to menchon Marissa was sitting next to me and Marissa said I don't see anithing daaaad she screamed and ther was three fish right by her left foot and then I said I told you. And then droped my bober on the shore then I caught the fish and it was bigish and littleish and they lived under the boat then I took the fish back to my dad and then the same exact thing happined in about 20 minuets after

the end

from

Aiden

 

The One Where Aiden Runs

I love many things about summer vacation. One is that our schedule becomes much more relaxed and flexible[ish]. This morning one of the kids' jobs was to take Zeke for a walk. Since I woke up to a migraine, I didn't get up and exercise when my alarm told me to, so I decided we should all walk together. That meant Caleb had the leash, Morgan was on her bike [with me pushing and prodding a good deal of the way], and Aiden, whose bike has a stubborn flat, was walking. [Marissa was at basketball camp.]

Here's what was so great about our walk: watching Aiden run ahead with Morgan. That boy ran with such reckless and spirited enjoyment that I had to laugh out loud. It was very Phoebe-esque, if you are a Friends fan. [If you need a laugh, try this.] I decided I need to take a lesson from him and approach life with more abandon. This may just include wildly flailing arms. Consider yourself warned.

And here's a good one for the record books. At dinner last night Morgan said, "Mom, you're the queen. And Dad's the ... other queen."

Oldies and Birdies

Aiden was playing Pacman on the Playstation today and said incredulously,

"Mom, it's AMAZING! These games were made in the 1990s. . . and they're still fun!"

Remarkable!

Other randomness. . . Morgan has been nesting lately. She found my stash of Easter eggs and has been building little nests of blankets and pillows all over the house. I found her watching t.v. the other day perched atop one of her nests, and she gave me a little peek at the colorful assortment of eggs she was incubating. Then a little while later she came soaring through the kitchen, flapping her arms, and said, "I'm teaching my little ones how to fly." My little ones. Ha, ha!

Going Green

We've had a challenge lately with energy conservation -- or in other words, turning lights out. I got tired of reminding Aiden in particular to turn off his lights, so I started threatening that we'd remove his light bulbs if he kept leaving the lights on. I guess he's used to empty threats, cause it didn't seem to make a difference.

So we followed through the other day. Morgan watched Jeremy taking the light bulbs out and was just dying to tell Aiden all about it. Jeremy told her to be quiet and let Aiden find out for himself. This was more than Morgan could handle. She showed us just how smart she is by going to Aiden and saying, "Can you help me turn on your light?"

Aiden earned his light bulb privileges back, and it has been like magic. He's come to me several times just to let me know his lights are off. Brilliant! And if it doesn't last, I suppose we can always try this . . .

Once in a Lifetime

This year marked the coolest birthdate ever for one 8-year-old I know.

11-11-11.

We tried to instill in Aiden the singularity of this once-in-a-lifetime event. Maybe he got it, but there were more important things for him to attend to . . .

. . . such as fostering his latest obsession with all things BYU, hosting an insane "late night" movie birthday party with a houseful of highly energetic boys, and preparing for his baptism.

I'm convinced as Aiden gets older that he is destined for a charmed life. He's one of those kids you're privately a tiny bit jealous of. He's good looking and athletic, makes friends easily, gets a good joke, and has got a smart brain in his head. And he's nice! He's also a little bit mischievous and can be a stinker, but he somehow makes you laugh when you're trying to get mad.

Aiden's baptism was a quiet and special affair. Aiden is rather reserved about being in the spotlight, but he said he felt happy. Since that day, he asks questions and makes comments that show he is trying to understand gospel principles and ordinances. I'm proud of his growth and effort. And we got a half-way decent family picture out of the day.

Happy birthday (an itty bit late), my favorite 8-year-old!

Gratitude

Last Sunday, I was struck with a migraine right about time to fix dinner. I crashed, leaving Jeremy to fend for himself and the rest of the gang. He resorted to the emergency stash of frozen cardboard pizza. It was Aiden's turn to say the blessing on the food. How's this for sincerity?

"We're thankful for this food that Dad . . .

. . . put into the oven."

On the subject of food, I submit we should also be grateful for a free enterprise system of feeding our faces. During our garden's heyday this summer, we had an abundance of zucchini which I tried to use in diverse and sneaky ways. Jeremy will readily admit that he likes zucchini a grand total of once every summer, but I was undeterred. One day I chopped it up and hid it inside a calzone. The kids scarfed it down, so I reveled in my success until Jeremy made a comment about our Communist dinner. Ha! I guess that makes me the czar.

Get Me a Pair of Those!

We were watching TV the other day, and Aiden asked Jeremy, "Why are those people so skinny?"

Jeremy responded, "It's just their genes."

Aiden tried to figure that one out. "So are they really tight [pulling his own jeans tighter around his waist] so they can't grow?"

I wish it worked a little something like that!

The Mother of Invention

Jeremy and I were puzzled when Caleb, Marissa, and Aiden walked out of the house today with socks dangling out of their pants' pockets. Our puzzlement turned to amusement after we realized they were playing flag football. Of course, how perfectly reasonable! May I say, though, it was one of the funniest looking games of flag football I've ever seen?

Funnies

A couple of recent quotables from Aiden . . .

We were discussing the reason we get baptized and trying to gauge Aiden's understanding, so we asked, "Why did Jesus get baptized? How many sins did he have?"

His answer: "I don't know. Five?"

Guess we have a little more teaching to do.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Jeremy was telling me the names of his golfing buddies for an upcoming outing and said, "Justin Peterson will be there."

Aiden's eyes popped open and he said, "Justin Beaver?!? Justin Beaver's son?"

Ha, ha, ha! I laughed and corrected, "It's Justin Bieber."

Aiden: "He's going with Justin Bieber's son?"

Um, no.

Proof of Affection

Jeremy likes to tease that I must not love my children very much since I didn't post their back-to-school pictures on my Facebook wall. I beg to differ. It's just a symptom of my conflicted relationship with social media. But since I do love my children and like to show them off a little, here they are on their first days of school.

Caleb, 7th grader












Marissa, 5th grader












Aiden, 2nd grader












Morgan, preschooler












Have you noticed how the first day of school marks the passage of time more than most things? While I held myself together better this year than last after sending these sweet pieces of my soul away, I look at these pictures and feel gentle twinges in my heart. I guess even at my age I'm bound to have a few growing pains.

How to Speak Utahrn

Although I've lived in Utah for almost half of my life, I still think of myself as an Oregonian in certain ways. Such as: I still speak like one. I grew up never thinking of Oregon as having an accent of any kind, but Jeremy likes to point out a few northwest peculiarities [not peculiar to me, I must clarify]. According to him, Oregonians put a twangy a in words of the ants family. I guess it comes out a little like "aynts." So a sentence like, "The ants from France wore pants to the dance," ends up sounding [to him] like, "The aynts from Fraynce wore paynts to the daynce."

I've also held on to some words and phrases. We have an ongoing debate over the use of high waters vs. floods to describe pants [or paynts] of the awkwardly short variety. Out of habit, I call them high waters. My argument, which I feel legitimate, is that someone from Oregon should be able to differentiate between high water and a flood.

Now it's not like Jeremy has much room to critique how us Oregonians speak. Utah has its fair share of verbal humdingers. I am raising 4 Utahns, which came abruptly to my attention one day while I worked on spelling with Aiden. I read his spelling list while he wrote the words. We came to the word sure and I watched him write shore. Feeling a little puzzled, I tried again. "No, the word is shoor." He said, "That's what I wrote." So I tried another approach. "It's shur [almost neglecting the vowel sound completely]." And he wrote it correctly. Oh, the dismay!

From time to time I do slip into some characteristically Utahn pronunciations. For example, I have caught myself saying fur instead of for and feel rather horrified. [Just as long as I don't fill horrified.] Maybe it's inevitable. After all, in another couple years I'll have lived in Utah longer than I lived in Oregon. But at least so far, supposebly I still haven't warshed my hands in the crick or put my house up for sell!

Mother's Day Math

I'm pretty sure I've discovered the formula for a great mother's day. It goes something like this:

1 really, truly amazing husband
+
[loving kid]^4
+
2 perfectly cooked slabs of baby back ribs
+
1 peaceful afternoon nap
+
[1 video chat] x [the whole Bogardus family, including Elder Spencer who had dinner at Bethany's house . . . when does that ever happen?]
=

Ideal!

For the record, Jeremy will never again be allowed to plead incapability when it comes to cooking. His ribs proved otherwise. Thanks to Brendan and Chris for sharing the recipe.

One more mother's day math problem for you to puzzle over. Aiden told me he thinks Zeke will live to be 15 and 14 quarters. The funny thing about that is he thinks of quarters in terms of money. I'm not quite sure how you translate that into time, so I'm curious to know how that will work.