Spring Break, 1st Half

Last month we had a week-long spring break, part of which we spent on a real, American roadtrip to the Grand Canyon. I had never seen it and Matt was ten when he last went there, so I thought (and Matt went along with me) we ought to take our kids to this famed destination.

We travelled about six hours to Page, AZ, and toured the Glen Canyon Dam. I was impressed by its sheer size and history; also, by my kids who proved a well-behaved part of a tour group. We stayed overnight and then drove the remaining couple hours to the South Rim of Grand Canyon National Park, which was densely forested. Surprise for me...I had imagined a dusty, winding road around the canyon, with maybe a couple official lookout points. Instead, we enjoyed the nicely planned, but still natural park that included many stopping points--vistas, I think--picnic areas, a villiage (museums, lodging, infomation), wildlife, and short trails that were really more like strolling paths on the very edge of the Grand Canyon.




Matt and I were amazed by the vastness of the Grand Canyon. The kids ran around, safely barricaded from falling in. We lamented that no pictures even began to capture the size and depth and magnificence of this place. Honestly, it so surrounded us and so filled up all the horizon, that the effect was dizzying. Over the two days we visited, I never could get enough of the overwhelming proportions or the desert beauty (that's odd, coming from someone who needs trees).


The cloudless sky made our sunset shots less spectacular than we had hoped, but the light was still great. The evening weather was also cold and windy. We're unprepared and shivering...

There was one area that had no barriers; this was a prime photo-op spot and we took advantage of it. It looks like the kids' legs are dangling right into the Canyon.

In reality, there was still another seven or eight feet of rock ledge. I wouldn't put Dallin that close to a natural wonder. To their collective disappointment, this spot was the closest I let them go.

Matt is telling Nate something to the effect of: "No way are you taking one more step, crazy kid."

Jamie Beth pouted about having me for a mom. "It's not fair...those people get to stand on the edge." I'm mean that way.

Otherwise, we all enjoyed the trip. I'm looking forward to trying it again in a decade, when we might be old enough to go down some of the real trails, maybe on mules. And camp, too...Stop right there, Matt says. Camping is not vacationing.

Though we went to church as usual on Easter Sunday (turned out to be a Navajo Branch that we attended), our traditional egg hunt had to be improvised for a hotel room. I kept the children in the hallway while Matt hid the eggs.

They were still very excited to track down the eggs, even though most were obvious.

But not all, apparently. Matthew had us weeping with laughter because he spent at least 3 minutes looking for the last egg, which was just out of his view, but not ours.

Guess who found it?

We had an entire restaurant to ourselves for Easter dinner, but it was just not the same as a family dinner at home. Next year, I think we'll wait until after Sunday to travel, so we can have the calmer, more familiar, more reverent day.

Stay tuned for details from the rest of our week. (That's right, I've covered only the first half.)

Don't lick the yogurt off your socks!

That's what I actually exclaimed tonight.

During the sixty seconds that I was outside picking up the mail, Nathaniel opened the refrigerator (no longer lock-able, remember?), took out a container of yogurt, found a spoon, apparently started eating, but then spilled the drippy stuff (Wallaby's brand) on the floor. That's when I came in. He whined guiltily as I whisked the yogurt away, and as I grabbed a rag (meaning my back was turned for up to two seconds), he walked right into the mess. Then he reached down and, well, licked the yogurt off his sock.

The kid makes me say, "Ack!" often.

Because...

A couple mornings ago, he dumped out all, and I mean every speck, of the baby powder in his bedroom. I thought he was quiet because he was sleeping, but it turns out he was busy and not interested in calling my name yet. I promise I'm not a negligent mom who leaves such temptations within reach--we have learned several lessons the hard way. That powder was on the top shelf of his closet, probably four or five feet above the floor. I guess he just scaled those built-ins like a monkey.

And another time, also very recently, I opened his bedroom door after he had been crying for about five minutes--I thought he was pouting about bedtime--and found blood everywhere. After worriedly washing him up, I discovered this mess was a bad bloody nose that he wiped on the walls, dripped all over the floor, and smeared on the rocker. Ack! Admittedly, this catastrophe was partly my own fault for not rushing in sooner, but honestly! Everything with Nate is messy in the biggest way.

And he takes off running when the door is open, headed to the nearest operating sprinkler.

And he plugs and unplugs cords everytime I'm in another room. Cords I don't even recognize or know where he found.

And one day he carefully spooned Nestle-Qwik chocolate mix onto Nana's carpet. (She didn't know babysitting him would take so much energy.)

And he pokes his clothing down the heating vent in his bedroom.

And he moves quickly to new "adventures" even as I am literally cleaning up the current mess. My friend today saw a little of this, and I think she was glad to run home to her quiet, orderly life. I would be glad to run to her home with her.

Luckily for both Nathaniel and his parents, he is absolutely charming and good-natured. If he just weren't so busy.

A finished project!?!

Here is the inspiration for the dress I made for Jamie Beth (found in a beautiful--read: expensive--shop in Alexandria, VA)...

Here is the result... I was going for "vintage", but may have ended up a little bit "pioneer". The point is that I actually finished a project that is wearable. Jamie Beth and I like it.

He's had another birthday...

...his tenth! How could time have passed so quickly, yet it seems as though we've always had Matthew around?

Here he is--wet, chubby, and possibly happy--at about six weeks old:

And a comical poser at four years old:
Of course, I have hundreds of other pictures, both digital and in a box in the closet, but I may cry if I see any more evidence of my children growing old in the blink of an eye. So, on to current events.

Matthew is always thrilled, eager, bouncing off the walls to make a pine wood derby car. This is his second, which debuted last week. Despite its wild wheel that flew off on almost every run, Matthew was proud of his work and showed manly sportsmanship skills when his wasn't the clear champion (as he obviously believed it would be).

Last Sunday Matthew performed his piano recital to a select audience...immediate family and immediate family of piano teacher (Aunt Michelle) only. His favorite piece is Pachelbel's Canon in D, which he chose to learn after listening to George Winston's (much more complicated) rendition hundreds of times on his CD player. He hopes to play that version someday, but is satisfied for now with his simplified arrangement, along with his other favorite, the Star Wars Theme. Matthew is nothing if not well-rounded in his interests.

Sunday was also the birthday celebration day with the extended family. Matthew loves having his birthday prolonged over several days. He adorned his cake with his own Lego creations. (Someday he wants to do a blog post highlighting some of his favorite designs...he takes pictures of many of his Lego creations, just in case...of something.)

Happy Birthday to our dear, smart, cheerful, helpful, oldest son. Good job turning 10.

Gracias, amigo, libro,espanol.

Jamie Beth consistently judges library books by their covers; she's looking for pink or purple, princesses, girls, flowers, or any indication that it might contain a fairy tale. (I do try to broaden her horizons with my own favorites, and she does enjoy "old-fashioned" stories, by which she means Anne of Green Gables and Little House on the Prairie; but she is naturally drawn to the pretties.) Her recent kindergarten book poster is typical of her personality: pink book, stylized art project, and full costume. She was darling and charming as she sat proudly by her work.

Imagine her disappointment yesterday when I gently informed her that we simply could not read her latest library book. Because it was in Spanish--and I know about ten words in Spanish (four are used in this post's title). She pleaded with me, as if I could read it if I just sounded out the words. After all, she pointed out, she could read "Lily" in the title. Yes, because the names are still the same, regardless of the translation. She pouted, but then consoled herself by looking at all the pretty pictures.

Just a Thought

In preparation for my first Relief Society lesson yesterday, I've been thinking about gifts of the spirit lately. In addition to the many gifts listed in Moroni 10, Doctrine & Covenants 46, and 1st Corinthians 12, I appreciate this beautiful thought from Elder Marvin J. Ashton:

Let us review some of these less-conspicuous gifts: the gift of asking; the gift of listening; the gift of hearing and using a still, small voice; the gift of being able to weep; the gift of avoiding contention; the gift of being agreeable; the gift of avoiding vain repetition; the gift of seeking that which is righteous; the gift of not passing judgment; the gift of looking to God for guidance; the gift of being a disciple; the gift of caring for others; the gift of being able to ponder; the gift of offering prayer; the gift of bearing a mighty testimony; and the gift of receiving the Holy Ghost.

I find those words both reassuring and motivating, as I seek to cultivate existing gifts and develop new ones.