A Common Word Between Us

Thirteen years ago today I was watching Sesame Street with 10-month-old Vicki.  When the show ended, I changed the channel, hoping to find something more grown-up to watch, and instead was bombarded with broadcast after broadcast of terrible news that forever changed our nation.  The juxtaposition of pure innocence with abject terror is something I will never be able to get out of my mind, and I remember looking at Vicki and wondering what kind of world she would know.  I will never forget the way Americans joined together during the last few months of 2001, and I will always remember and honor the victims and the heroes who lost their lives that day.

Several years ago I read a book that moved me tremendously, and I posted about it here on the blog.  It feels appropriate to share those thoughts again today.  It is my hope and prayer that, in honor of those who have lost their lives to senseless violence, we remember that we are all God's children, brothers and sisters, a part of the human race, and it is our responsibility to find the things we have in common with each other and embrace them, rather than seeking out our differences and allowing those to rule us.

It's true that Vicki knows a different world than I did when I was her age, but the events of 9/11 are not the only reason for that.  There have been many good changes to go along with the bad.  And I firmly believe that the best thing I can do for her, and for Lexi and Ellie, is to teach them that, no matter who we are, what we believe, where we come from, or how we live our lives, we all have one thing in common: love.

And all you need is love, my children.

Love is all you need.

**********

The following is the text of the post linked to above.

A few months ago I read a book called The Faith Club. It was written by three women – a Muslim, a Christian, and a Jew – who met together in the wake of 9/11 to discuss their beliefs and to try to come to an understanding of each other. It was fascinating to follow the journey each of them made as they learned and reached out to each other. What on the surface seemed like a simple thing – a social gathering, a time to build friendships and learn a little from each other – became a turning point for all three as they struggled not only to understand the beliefs of the other two women but also to gain a deeper understanding and testimony of their own as they were challenged in ways they had never been before. It was inspiring. I have a friend who is an Orthodox Jew, and we’ve discussed our religions, and their similarities and differences. Reading this book made me wish I knew a Muslim woman, too, so I could start my own faith club. Of course, I’d probably include another Christian, of the more mainstream variety (I already have one in mind!), since Mormonism is different enough to warrant some discussion there as well.

Anyway, since reading this book, I have had such a desire to come to an understanding with people of different faiths. I’m not looking to agree with them, or have them agree with me. I just want to understand and find common ground. All three of these major world religions come from the same beginning. We are all Abraham’s seed. There are major doctrinal differences, things that will probably never be agreed upon, but we all pray to the same God, whether we call Him by the same name or not.

This brings me to the purpose of this post. Lately I have noticed that a lot of Christians (Mormons included) still seem to harbor ill will towards followers of Islam. The more I see or hear of this, the more it upsets me. I’ve been having a hard time sitting by quietly and allowing these things to go unchallenged. I suppose I can understand the sentiment behind the mindset; after all, terrible things have been done in this world in the name of Islam. However, I firmly believe that these things are being done by people who either do not fully understand the true message of their religion, or who chose to follow only select words, without giving heed to the full meaning in conjunction with the rest of their religious beliefs. I am no expert on Islam, and cannot even claim to be an expert on Christianity or Mormonism, but I do believe that none of these faiths condone the things that are being done in the world today in the name of God. It makes me sad to see the way all of Islam is being lumped together as a religion that tolerates, supports, and even encourages violent acts.

The truth is that, just like there are different sects of Christianity who hold to different sets of doctrine, there is a small portion of Muslims who believe it is the will of God that they engage in jihad, or holy war, against other nations. But this is not true of the majority of Muslims. It amazes me how we Christians are so willing to believe this misleading information when there is so much out there that gives incorrect “facts” about our own beliefs. There are websites dedicated to informing the world that all Mormons are polygamists and all of Mormonism is of the devil, in the same way that there are sites that would have the world believe that all Muslims are jihadists and that all Islam is evil. They’re out there; we’ve all seen them at some point, and when they’re about our own beliefs we’ve all been disgusted and outraged that anyone could be so misinformed and disrespectful about something we hold sacred. Why, then, can we be so willing to believe things about other religions without doing unbiased research. Ah, the appeal of a Faith Club…

I have been bothered by this for awhile now, feeling like I should say something to stand up for a people, who, in my experience and study, I have come to believe are generally kind and peace-loving, but I haven’t known how to go about it. Until yesterday, that is, when I read this article in The Oregonian. It talked about an open letter to Christians written and endorsed by many Muslim leaders. This letter, titled “A Common Word Between Us”, calls for an understanding between Muslims and Christians, using passages from both the Qur’an and the Bible to make its point. It establishes the fact that the two greatest commandments in both Islam and Christianity are to love God above all else and then to love your neighbors – all your neighbors. Who can argue with that? And, given that, who can really believe that Islam teaches unprovoked war with others?

I’m not writing this to start anything. I’m not necessarily even looking for comments this time (although they’re always welcome!) This is just something that has been on my mind for a long time, and I finally found a way to bring it together and put my thoughts and feelings down in print. I have a great love for my Father in Heaven, and for the faith that has led me to that love. But I also have a great respect for those who are strong in their own faith, even though it may not agree with mine. I want to learn as much as I can about those faiths so that I can understand my fellow men, and grow to love them as my neighbors. Regardless of whether you agree with me or not, I strongly encourage everyone who reads this to take a look at the Common Word website, and to take some time to think a little bit about loving our God and loving our neighbors, and allowing all men the privilege to worship how, where, or what they may.

I will leave you with the concluding paragraph of “A Common Word”:

So let our differences not cause hatred and strife between us. Let us vie with each other only in righteousness and good works. Let us respect each other, be fair, just and kind to another and live in sincere peace, harmony and mutual goodwill.

Teaching My Children to Lie, and Other Mother's Day Gifts

(I have four posts in my drafts folder right now.  Only one of them is not a Random Thoughts Thursday post.  I don't know what's wrong with me that I can't complete a single blog post these days.  It's been over a month.  I think I'm just burned out from too much sitting in front of the computer while I was taking classes.  Or, at least, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.  But, so help me, I am determined to actually hit the "publish" button before the day is done.  I don't even care any more what the post looks like.  So, you know, heads up :) )

Today is Mother's Day.  It's also my birthday.  I'm...old.  Okay, I'm not really that old.  In fact, I'm younger than most of my friends these days.  But I'm older than I've ever been, and while I think I'm handling it fairly well, it's still kind of a big number.  Chris and I have a kind of mutual agreement that we don't need to make a big deal of each other's birthdays.  Mostly we just don't have the energy, but when your birthdays fall a day apart, the celebrating just gets to be too much.  So we typically don't do a whole lot, and that's understood without needing to be said, and we're both okay with it.

Even with all that, though, I woke up this morning feeling a little bit bummed - knowing that it was two big days in one, and not much was going to be done to celebrate them.  And knowing that I couldn't complain, because that's just how we roll around here, and because Chris's birthday is tomorrow and I still have no idea what we're giving him (love you, honey!)

We do have one Mother's Day tradition, however, which is that Chris & the girls always make me breakfast in bed.  So even though I generally wake up when Chris gets up, I stay in bed and pretend to be asleep so they can "surprise" me.  I love it.  And that's what happened this morning.  They came in with a tray, two cards, and - what's this? - a great big box.  They made me read the cards first, then an extra card taped to the top of the box, and then I took a closer look at the plate my breakfast was on, and I slowly realized something.

Our plates don't have words on them...

And realization came stronger and stronger as they unpacked the box.  For Mother's Day, for my birthday, they made me a set of plates, each one depicting a different illustration from a children's book, hand-painted by the girls, Chris, and our good friend.  For weeks, my children and my husband, and, as it turns out, several of my friends, have been lying to me.  While I thought they were having playdates and providing free child labor for our friend, they were painting, glazing, and, in Vicki's case, driving all over the place getting these plates ready to surprise me today.

The backs all have something special on them, too, but I was in a
hurry and didn't get a picture

They're beautiful.  They're amazing.  They make me smile and cry and smile again.  They are, quite possibly, the best present I have ever received.  And I refuse to think about the number of lies I was told in order to make it happen.  They were definitely lies for a good cause, and I will cherish the knowledge of them just as much as I will cherish these plates.  They make me happy, and they're a reminder that my family knows what I love and are willing to work hard to surprise me with something they know I'll treasure.

Now I'm just sorry I don't have something equally as epic for Chris's birthday tomorrow.  I guess there's always Father's Day...

Random Thoughts Thursday (the un-random Halloween edition)

We interrupt this regularly scheduled Random Thoughts Thursday to bring you a Halloween-themed post.  This post is brought to you by the knowledge that there are far-away grandparents and an uncle in Australia who really want to see the girls Halloween costumes, and by the fact that I actually have time to blog today.

Random Thoughts Thursday will return at its regularly scheduled time next week.

About two months ago, Ellie told me she'd decided once and for all what she wanted to be for Halloween.  This is the girl who has fairly readily molded her costume ideas to my will for the past six years.  I should have enjoyed that more while it lasted, because this year she decided to be...a volcano.  I usually make the girls costumes, but even if I'd wanted to buy them this year, I have no idea where one would go to find a volcano costume.  So we got creative with the several yards of black felt that Chris has had stored in our cedar chest for the past 10 years, and here's what we came up with:

Pretty darn awesome, if I do say so myself.  Here's another angle:

And one more, because I was feeling artsy:

Her original plan was to have her hair all ratted up and sprayed red, but we tried that for the church Halloween party, with traumatic results when it came time to clean it up, so we came up with the headband instead.  She got pretty good at explaining to people what she was supposed to be, and was over the moon when someone actually guessed right.

Lexi usually goes for simplicity when it comes to costumes.  Her main goal is to just have fun and get candy.  I completely understand that, and appreciate how easy it is to create her costumes.  This year we just had to hunt down a Viking helmet, and the rest I threw together in a few hours using a couple of t-shirts and some fake fur.

And the "okay, stop taking pictures now" picture:

Vicki originally wanted to create an elaborate steampunk costume, but as much as I would have loved to do that (and make something for myself, too, I just didn't have the time.  So she decided to be "Alberta" Einstein instead.

We had fun fluffing up her hair (you can't really tell, but we sprayed it white), and those eyebrows and mustache were a fantastic find.  This is one of my favorite pictures of her, ever:

Here are all three together:

And it wouldn't be Halloween without Chris and I in our goth costumes:

Scary, no?  We also had tattoos:

(That picture is from a party we went to a few days before Halloween.)

So, there you have it.  Hopefully this satisfies those of you dying to see what the girls came up with this year. The only things that scares me now is wondering what, exactly, Ellie is going to decide to be next year.  What could possibly top a volcano?

One last shot of all three girls:

And thus concludes the Ebert family costume roundup of 2012.  Join us again next year when we discover just how much weirder it can get.

I Open My Mouth and the Words Fall Out

Sometimes, as a parent, we are required to do things that we never in a million years could possibly have imagined doing before we had children.  Things like wiping your child's nose with your bare hand, or letting them leave the house with 25 barrettes strategically placed (by them) on top of their head.

And sometimes we say things that you can't even make up.  Remember this?  The phrases come out of our mouths, and it's only once we've said them that we stop and think, holy cow, where did that come from?

For example, a few days ago the girls and I were all in the car with my mom.  The girls were in the backseat and things were getting a little heated, when I suddenly found myself uttering the following sentence: "It's not okay to call your sister a hobo unless you're willing to let her call you a hobo, too."

Being a parent is awesome.

I Blame the Girl Scouts

source

Somehow, in the last couple of years, my meek and mild little daughters have turned into speak-your-mind, healthily opinionated, not-afraid-to-stand-up-for-what's-right, strong-willed little women.

Clearly this is the fault of the Girl Scouts.

You know, that organization that empowers innocent little girls all over the nation, and even the world, to discover who they are and what they stand for.

It's funny how things happen.  I never intended to be so involved in the Girl Scouts.  I was a Brownie for a few years, and even a Junior, and it was fun, but not a hugely life-changing experience.  Still, when Vicki started school, I thought it would be a good thing for her.  The only problem was that there were no troops nearby with space for her.  So my friend suggested we start our own troop, and here I am six years later, wrapping up another year of cookie sales with not one, but three Girl Scout daughters.

Who all want to change the world in their own ways.

At each Girl Scout meeting, the girls all recite the Girl Scout Promise, which is:

On my honor, I will try:
to serve God, and my country,
to help people at all times,
and to live by the Girl Scout Law.

The Girl Scout Law is:

I will do my best to be
Honest and Fair,
Friendly and Helpful,
Considerate and Caring,
Courageous and Strong, and
Responsible for what I say and do,
and to
Respect myself and others,
Respect Authority,
Use resources wisely,
Make the world a better place, and
Be a sister to every Girl Scout.

I have watched that first Girl Scout troop grow from five tiny 1st graders to 12 strong 6th graders, and I am proud of them each and every day.  I leave our meetings this year on such a high from listening to these girls discuss constructive ways to deal with the situations they face each and every day.  We've talked about friendships, bullies, jealousy, and boys (though I'm not ready for that one yet!), and they've stood as great examples to their younger counterparts as they taught the Daisies all about cookie sales.

I've watched these girls step completely out of their comfort zone and overcome shyness and fear of speaking to strangers in order to sell their cookies to support their sister Girl Scouts.  And I've watched each one of them smile while doing it.  They've learned that work can be fun, and that hard work is rewarding.

I've sat through a meeting and heard them constructively and fairly calmly discuss a bullying situation that a few of their own were facing.  They tried to be fair, and considerate, and rather than spend an hour tearing down the girl who was doing the bullying, they simply discussed how they could solve the problem and support each other.

I've watched them be friends to the friendless and support each other through all kinds of life lessons.  They have their moments (don't we all?), but this group of girls have never ceased to impress and amaze me.  I am proud of them and proud to be their friend.

As for my own three Girl Scouts?

I have seen Vicki, Lexi, and Ellie embody each line of the Girl Scout Law at different times and in different ways.  Each time they do something nice for someone else, they're being Friendly and Helpful, and Considerate and Caring.  When they admit to doing something they shouldn't have, they're being Honest and Fair, Courageous and Strong, and Responsible for What They Say and Do.  When they remember to compost and recycle and reuse, they're Using Their Resources Wisely and Making the World a Better Place.  When they're respectful to their teachers (and their parents!), they're Respecting Authority.  And, most importantly, every day they're trying hard to  Respect Themselves and Others.

They're serving God and their country by discovering who they are, where they come from, what's going on in the world around them, and how to get along with everyone they meet.

So whenever someone tells me that my girls are so well-behaved, or so polite, or friendly, or considerate, I think that instead of laughing it off and saying, "Oh, you should see them at home!", I'll just say, "Thank you! They're Girl Scouts."

Because, really, I blame the Girl Scouts.

Tuesday Morning at My House

Lately my children have been going to sleep later and later.  It seems that no amount of threatening or removal of privileges serves to encourage them to stop talking to each other and go to sleep already.

I guess I should be thankful that they're all getting along, but why does it only seem to happen between 9:00 and 10:00 at night, when at least two of them should already be asleep?

Last night, at about 9:45, I informed them that I didn't care anymore what time they went to sleep.  I was simply going to expect them to get up right when I woke them in the morning, no complaining.  Since I did this in my "Mom's disappointed in you" voice, I think they realized I meant business.

As a general rule, waking them up consists of me shaking them vigorously by whatever body part I can reach at the time (the setup of their beds - all three in one small room - is such that, if they're creative, at times they're not actually accessible to anyone less than a contortionist) and singing really obnoxious wake-up songs in a very chirpy voice, until they get out of bed just to make me stop.

This morning, I smoked them out instead.

 Oh, sourdough toast, how tasty you would have been.
Also, a new toaster is now at the top of my Christmas list.

It was the fastest I've seen them move before 9:00 in the morning.  Ever.  But they were all consequently ready to go on time today.  Possibly emotionally scarred for life, but ready to go on time.

In related news, I can take comfort in the fact that Ellie knows what to do if she ever catches on fire.  The first thing she did when the smoke alarms went off, before any smoke was even visible upstairs, was drop to the floor and start rolling around.

The Obligatory Halloween Post

(Mom, this is for you!)

Vicki is studying ancient civilizations this year, and has been really into the Percy Jackson books, so she decided to dress as Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom (hence the owl on her shoulder).  She made her costume by herself - how cool is that?  Ellie has been planning on being Rapunzel pretty much since she saw Tangled for the first time.  And it was extremely important to her that she have a wig.  She determined that her own hair, despite being the longest in this household, is nowhere near long enough, and anything I might have attempted to create with yarn would only have been met with all the scorn a 6-year-old could muster, so I caved and bought something that is now sitting in a tangled (ha!) mess on my stairs.  Lexi...well, I don't really know why she wanted to be a zombie, but she made an awesome one.  We had a blast designing her costume and doing her makeup, and her hair was a riot.  Yes, that's her real hair.  It was lots of fun to comb that out afterward, let me tell you.

Our church has a Halloween party every year, and they always find someone to take pictures, which I love.

This is the one I took with my cell phone camera
behind the photographer's back

I'm seriously considering making this our Christmas card this year

This is the only picture I have of Chris's and my costumes.  Chris made his own steampunk attire.  He wanted to go all out, but budget constraints made that a challenge, so he just went with an awesome eyepiece and a wrist-mounted rocket launcher.  And I just recycled my punk costume from years past, but with better tattoos and a different hair color (I tried purple this year, but I think I like last year's blue the best...what do you think?)

After the church party, we humiliated our children by taking them to the pumpkin patch in full costume.

Contemplating the choosing of the pumpkin

She went with a "zombie pumpkin"

Isn't she cute?

And then, of course, we carved the pumpkins.

Happy Halloween!

Back to School!

It's back-to-school week around these parts!  Vicki and Lexi started today, but kindergarten doesn't start until next Wednesday, so poor Ellie, who has been waiting forever for her turn to go to school, still has another week to go.


Vicki was so excited to be able to choose her own
clothes.  I, on the other hand, wish the uniforms
continued through high school.


Vicki and her friends have made plans to meet up and walk to school together each day, but a few of us uncool parents insisted on joining them the first day.  You know, to humiliate them with cameras.  Nothing like starting middle school off on the right foot.  At least I didn't kiss her goodbye in the classroom - even Lexi would have balked at that this year.

Middle School, here we come!

Lexi insisted on getting a messenger bag instead of a backpack.  They must not be "the thing" anymore, because we had to search everywhere before we found one that her sense of style and my wallet could agree on.  The strap is so long it bangs her in the knees, but she loves it.  I did not tell her to pose like this for her picture - this is pure Lexi.  Also, note the fluorescent socks.  With a uniform, there are only so many ways to express yourself.  And for Lexi, day-glo socks are clearly the best.

Mighty 4th Grader!

First day down for two of them, one more to go.

It's going to be mighty quiet around here after next week.

Reaching Our Destination

12 hours is a long time to be stuck in the car.

But we've made the drive between Portland and Salt Lake City 13 times now, and the girls are older and better at keeping themselves busy.

We have two portable DVD players, which surprisingly don't get as much use as they did a few years ago (although it appears that both Lexi and Ellie may have been utilizing them when I took the picture).  We also have the VCR in the car, although it, too, is mostly ignored.

Decades ago, my mom started a family road trip tradition of handing out "100-mile treats", and I've kept the tradition alive, although my mom's treats were actual, edible treats, while mine tend to be things like markers, books, and movies.  Hers were probably cheaper, but mine keep kids occupied for longer.

We always leave around 4am, and Chris drives while the girls and I snooze.  We switch sometime after breakfast, once we've stopped at one of the many gas stations we've become all too familiar with over the course of the last six years.  The hands-down best one is the Boise Stage Stop, on the Utah side of Boise.  Just in case anyone was wondering.

While driving, we play the Alphabet Game, I Spy, and 20 Questions.  We listen to music, podcasts (Radiolab, Freakonomics, Wait Wait Don't Tell Me, and This American Life are our favorites), and the girls singing.  Ellie sings songs she makes up, usually about such song-worthy subjects as the sun shining through the window or my sister's dogs.  Vicki and Lexi sing camp songs.

In past years, I've dreaded the drive.  It was long, it was boring, and the kids were squished and unhappy.  But now that we have a bigger car, older kids, and more life experience, I've decided it's actually kind of fun.  Too often in this house we're trying to find our own space and, essentially, get away from each other, but when we're forced to spend time in close quarters, my kids have learned that they can actually have a good time together.  They enjoy each other more, and Chris and I enjoy them.

And now I realize that these days, like the objects in the mirror, the destination is actually closer than it appears.

Rollin', Rollin', Rollin'

This morning the girls and I went shopping.  Sadly, it wasn't the fun kind of shopping.  We went to Costco and the grocery store.

And I, as usual, forgot to grab my strong, reinforced-bottomed, reusable grocery bags.  (If anyone has any tips on how to remember these, please do share.  Ellie used to be really good about reminding me, but lately she's been falling down on the job.)

When we arrived home, I instructed each of the girls to help carry groceries into the house.  They were dying for lunch, and I let them know that the timing of lunch would be directly affected by how long it took to unload and put away all the groceries.  That got them moving.

Lexi, in her enthusiasm (or starvation), yanked the first bag she saw quickly out of the car.

Unfortunately, it was the bag full of heavy cans and jars.

And the bottom split open.

And the cans and jars all fell out.

And we live on a hill.

Also, I don't think I've mentioned this, but we currently have construction workers doing repairs on our townhouses every weekday morning.  Naturally, they chose that moment to be finished for the day and getting into their cars.  At the bottom of the hill.  The sight of three kids and a crazy lady chasing cans of soup and jars of pickles down the street no doubt made their day.

As one drove past, he said, grinning, "That would have been a great YouTube!"

I'm disappointed to report that he didn't manage to get his phone out in time.

Photography Skillz

If I leave my phone alone for more than five minutes, it's pretty much a guarantee that the next time I see it, a few more levels of Angry Birds will have been passed and there will be some interesting pictures on the camera roll.

Case in point:

This is clearly everyone's favorite app.
And Lexi's favorite pose.

I think Ellie took this one.
Why?  I don't know.

There are at least 30 variations of this.

See?

I need to buy lightbulbs.

I don't know who took this one, but I sure
hope my butt isn't really that big.

Freaky.

Also freaky.

Dad's not immune, either.

Then Vicki has to go and take a really awesome picture.
Go figure.

The moral of the story?  Guard your camera well.

Or be prepared to delete a lot.

I'm Glad it's Today

Yesterday was a weird day.

Chris took the car because he was attending a class in Oregon City and didn't want to spend two hours biking there.  Can't really blame him.

Tuesday is my usual grocery shopping day, and when Chris said if I gave up the car for the day he'd be willing to stop by the store on his way home, I assumed a deal had been made.  I even emailed him a very specific list (I don't know how it works in other households, but whenever Chris does the shopping we end up with all kinds of weird things.)

We were out of bread, so I had to make the hated roll-ups for the girls' lunches.

Ellie and I took our time walking home from the school, gathering enough rocks, leaves, flowers, and sticks to garrison a colony of birds' nests for a month.

I discovered that the girls' laundry baskets were overflowing and decided to remedy the situation all in one day - what I was thinking when I made this decision, I may never know.

I'm glad it's today.

Vicki had her first book club meeting after school, so she went straight to her friend's house, but we brought home a replacement child for a spontaneous playdate.

We got home to find Chris there.   His class had finished earlier than he'd expected, and he was trying to set up the computer so he could do some work from home.

And there were no groceries.

Apparently there'd been a miscommunication.  While I thought he was for sure going to stop at the store on his way home, he thought that he'd do it if it worked out.  But he was finished with the class earlier than he expected and thought he'd get some work done.  Since he gets paid to work, but not to shop for groceries, I can't really complain.

So instead I told him he was in charge of the three girls downstairs, told the three girls downstairs that the man upstairs was in charge and that they could have an after-school snack of goldfish crackers, and left for the store.

I arrived home less than an hour later to find my husband still upstairs, blissfully unaware of the fact that downstairs were three little girls who had eaten their way through half a bag (a Costco-sized bag, by the way) of goldfish crackers, six packages of fruit snacks, and three Go-Gurts, and were now sitting in the living room watching "The Electric Company" with their feet in giant bowls of water.

Sigh.

I'm glad it's today.

During dinner, we asked Vicki how her day at school had gone, knowing full well she'd had the "My Changing Body" talk and video that afternoon.  Blushing furiously, she admitted that it wasn't that bad, and that she really hadn't learned anything new, except that animals go through puberty, too.  That was the question she submitted for the Q&A session after the video (God bless those wonderful teachers forever.)

She mentioned a few of the other questions that had been (anonymously) submitted.  When she said that one of them had been, "What's a virgin?", Lexi, having no idea herself, shouted, "Virgins!  Let's all be virgins!"

Sounds like a good idea to me.

I'm glad it's today.

This morning, Ellie and our babysitting friend Violet found the bag of craft feathers that Vicki and Lexi had been using the other day, and decided to decorate the living room with them.

I'm...glad it's today?

If I Call it an "Adventure", Maybe I Won't Cry

If I believed in karma, I'd be wondering what I'd done wrong.

This past week was the girls' Spring Break, and we left Chris behind and headed down to St. George for some Grandma & Grandpa time.  The plan was to fill our days with hiking, exploring, swimming, playing, and all kinds of craft projects, and my sister-in-law Emily was coming down with her girls Abbie and Savannah.

Our flight left late Friday night, so we spent the morning packing and the afternoon running errands.  Our neighbors, meanwhile, spent the afternoon in a gang-related shooting incident which caused our entire street to be closed off and filled with policemen.

For a while, it looked like we weren't going to be allowed to go home.  And not going home meant not packing and leaving again for the airport.

We eventually made it home, and in a crazy mad rush finished the packing, ate dinner, and left the house significantly less clean than I had intended to.  But we made it, and the trip began.

Among the items we forgot to pack in our mad rush: the girls' toothbrushes and my swimsuit.

Saturday we slept in and then went hiking at Red Cliffs Recreation Area.  Uncle Blaine and his girlfriend Mel were with us for the day.  This was BY FAR my favorite day of the trip.

Queen of the world!

This was a lot scarier than it looks - I'm so proud of her!

Sunday was spent playing with cousins, baking cookies with Grandma, and challenging Grandpa to a putting contest in the backyard "golf course".

This was also the day my camera broke.  Thankfully Vicki brought hers along, so I didn't have to worry about missing a day.

Monday was a rainy day, but we planned accordingly.  All the girls sewed matching pajama pants with Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt Emily while I ran around buying craft supplies and a new swimsuit (FYI: Walmart's choices in this department are rather unfortunate.)  We made flower fairies and went to Del Sol, where Grandpa bought us each a t-shirt.

And this is where my vacation ended.

Tuesday morning I awakened to the sound of Vicki throwing up.  Everyone else went hiking at Zion National Park while the two of us stayed home and watched movies.  Then they got back from hiking, with a vomit-covered Ellie, who didn't make the last 10 minutes of the drive.

Wednesday was another day of doing nothing at home.  I finished one book and started another, while Ellie watched movies and threw up a lot.  Everyone else went to the sand dunes in Snow Canyon, and Vicki came home with a fever.  Goody.

Ellie continued into the evening, so by 8pm I was on the phone with our insurance company's ask-a-nurse and the on-call physician at our pediatrician's office.  Both recommended having her looked at, so it was off to the ER, where it didn't take long to conclude that she was dehydrated and in need of an IV.  The poor kid was so miserably sick that she didn't even move when the stuck the needle in.  After another bout of vomiting, they gave her some Zofran, which I have nicknamed The Wonder Drug, and within 10 minutes she was sitting up, chatting animatedly about all kinds of things, and eating a popsicle, which stayed down.  If you ask her what the worst part about the hospital visit was, she'll tell you it was when they removed the tape that was holding the IV on.  It was the only time she cried.

After the Zofran


We returned home around 11pm to learn that Lexi had a fever.  Joy.

So on Thursday, Lexi lay on the same couch previously occupied by her sisters, watching movies while Emily and I cleaned and packed and Grandma and Grandpa took the rest of the girls to a park.  They came back to pick us up for lunch at IHOP, but Lexi elected to stay home.  Knowing I hadn't been out of the house in two days, Grandma offered to stay with her, but I only got out of the house long enough to make it to the IHOP parking lot, where Vicki threw up.  Again.  And where the energy was quickly fleeing from Ellie.

So I had one kid with a fever, for which Tylenol was doing nothing, one kid who was vomiting, and one who had absolutely no energy and complained of a tummy ache (mine would ache too if I'd spent 24 hours vomiting).  Two of them were also having issues with the other end, if you get my drift.  And I wasn't feeling so hot myself anymore.

Did I mention we had a plane to catch that night?

God is good.  I know this because after begging and pleading with Him for pretty much the whole day, we managed to make it home almost without incident.  The girls were in fairly good spirits during the two-hour drive from St. George to Las Vegas, and they managed to make it through security (bless forever the sweet security lady who must have seen the exhaustion in all of us and sent us through the "special" line - the one set aside for airport personnel and wheelchairs) and into the packed waiting area before crashing.  We found a corner and they all lay down and fell asleep.  Once we got on the plane, Ellie was asleep again before takeoff and Lexi about five minutes after.  We made it through the first hour of the flight before Vicki threw up again.  Thank goodness for barf bags and a kid who's old enough to know what to do.

The plane landed at midnight, and when Chris picked us up I sat down in the car and burst into tears.

We made it.

I don't believe in karma, but if I did, I'd have an awful lot of questions for the universe.  I'm pretty sure I haven't done anything to deserve all that.  I do believe in God, though, and I know there's no way I would have made it through the day yesterday without His help.  I did not do that on my own - He was holding me up until I could do it on my own again.

And now, I need a vacation.