A Fine Trip to Fine Lake, Michigan 2015

Before school started, we had to squeeze in our one last trip.

Mom and Dad bought a little lake house before their mission. And they rented it while they were away.  

This summer they returned and began the renovation.  And I must say, they turned their house into a beautiful little lake cottage.  It is perfect.  Not because it's actually perfect, but because it is charming, and pleasant, and beautiful, and the sweet soft grass runs right along a white picket fence, right to the edge of the shallow, clear water.  And the dock walks  directly out to the boat, which beckons you to go for a ride whenever it tickles your fancy.

And the sunsets.  Oh, the sunsets! I took so many sunset pictures. 

Michigan is where my Dad is from, it's where he grew up, and it's a place I have visited my entire life.  When I was nine, Mom and Dad bought a 240 acre farm about 5 minutes from this lake.  We visited almost every year and saw my Grandmother Edith Abbott and Aunt Kathy and Uncle Chuck. And every time we drove out to the farm, we'd pass this lake and I would pick out which house I wanted to be mine.

The fact that they live there now, seems ironic and expected at the same time.

I absolutely hate having my parents so far away.  Especially after nearly 10 years of them living within five hours.  But after visiting them in their new little house and staring out the huge picture windows onto the lake, a view they have always talked about having, I can't fault them. I can miss them, but I can't fault them.  

Riding the boat and swimming in the lake were our everyday activities.

And wouldn't you know, Finn pulled up for the first time and it wasn't even on dry land.

My brother Ian's family drove over from Chicago and stayed a few days too.

And Finn ate ice cream in his pajamas in the backyard.

And loved it.

And I just kept taking pictures of sunsets.

Michigan has lightening bugs! I've missed them.

We went blueberry picking too.

My parent's house is the little gray one in the middle.

I love it when my mom does the everyday things that she used to do for my kids when we lived so close to each other.  

We wanted to go over to Lake Michigan and the little town of South Haven.  Apparently we picked the day of the Blueberry Festival so it was very  crowded.  But it also meant they had a ton of food trucks and stands set up along the water way.  So we ate lunch and watched the boats before heading to the beach.

South Haven has a light house.  And Max didn't want to be in the picture.

We're big fans of Lake Michigan because it's so big you feel like you're at the ocean, yet there's no salt water and no jelly fish.

It was a cloudy day but it turned out nice because it wasn't too hot.

Meanwhile, we came home so I could take more sunset pictures.

We took the kids on a tour of Abbott Family Sites.

Here is the house my dad grew up in.  This is the house I visited, that my Grandma lived in until I was married.

We saw my dad's old football stadium.

And we stopped by my brother Aaron's grave.  This pictures makes me so happy and I don't know why.

My parent's house is wonderful but it does lack a tub, which means you just use the sink.

Riding the tube was a favorite.  After watching his cousin, Santi, do it, Luke got brave and rode it surfing style.

Finn looks angelic enough but that kid is hard to travel with right now. In fact, he's  kind of hard to live with right now.

I don't want my kids to grow up, but it sure will be nice to take a trip without a terrible two year old.

And this was us on the airport shuttle bus back in Denver.  

Wiped.Out.  But it was a wonderful trip.

Luke's Baptism, August 1, 2015

The danger in not blogging frequently, for me, is that in the absence of necessary brain cells, I lose track of details.  

Luke's baptism was wonderful.  I'm sure it was.  If only I could remember what happened.  Let's see, perhaps if I retrace my steps...

The week started off with Girl's Camp.  I was the Laurel advisor (I have since been been put in cub scouts which is a different blog post entirely.  And at the rate I'm going it will be published next Spring.  Or never.)  But anyways, I went to Girl's Camp.  And had a fun time, didn't get much sleep, and missed the camp experiences of my Texas past.  Camp in Dallas was truly an inspired endeavor, and sometimes you can't appreciate something fully until you don't have it anymore.  The way the Stake operated and involved the girls, from beginning to end, made a difference I won't forget. Still camp was enjoyable.

Okay. So. I went to camp and had a fun time and then late Friday night, after testimony meeting, I returned home at 12:30 am in preparation for Luke's baptism the next morning. While I had been at camp, both my parents and my in laws had arrived in town.

In the morning, I prepared the talk on Baptism, got everyone dressed, and we were on our way.

Luke shared his baptism day with another boy in our ward named Andrew. His mother gave the talk on the Holy Ghost.

When I got up to speak to those boys about baptism, I was impressed to tell them that the Lord had a great work in store for them to do.  I felt the Spirit so strongly as I looked into their faces.  I know they both have wonderful things ahead of them.

The boys and their siblings then sang, I am a Child of God and it was lovely.  Even Finn could participate because that is one of his favorites.  

Following the baptism, we had a few of the boys' favorite treats, brownies (made by Ava the Baker) and root beer floats.

I told Luke he could choose how we spent the rest of the day.  He decided on a hike with the family in El Dorado Canyon, followed by hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill at home.  

It was wonderful to have our parents in town to celebrate with us.  

For months leading up to Luke's baptism we talked about the significance of the promises he would make.  And even moreso, the significance of the promises that the Lord would make in return.  I am so grateful for a Heavenly Father whose plan covers every detail and provides for every mean of getting us back to Him.  And for a Savior whose willingness to complete and sacrifice for that plan, for us, enables us to draw closer to heaven, everyday if we'd like.  And I'm grateful for a son, who at the tender age of 8 years old, recognizes the importance, even if not fully, enough to make this choice to follow Jesus Christ.

School 2015

I feel like I overdosed on children and I'm lying comatose on the floor of my closet. When I wake up I have no trouble accepting the fact that I have very nearly lost control of my life entirely.

But I just can't quit these kids.


School started.


Luke loves second grade.  He loves his teacher and his friends.  He loves recess and math.  He just loves it all.

Max was hesitant. Tentative.  He wanted to like school but he was still a little nervous.

And he was really not happy about me wanting to take his picture.

 I can't say, "I can't believe he's in kindergarten!" because he just missed the cut off last year so it's more like, "It's about time he was in kindergarten."  He is ready, even if he is apprehensive.


A few days before school started, I got a call from his kindergarten bus driver.  She would pick him up right in front of our house and the only other kids on the bus would be kindergartners as well.

I hadn't really considered him riding the bus but this sounded kind of dreamy.

So I talked it up like a grade A motivational speaker and after thinking about it, Max bought in, on the condition that I draw two hearts on each hand and give him eight hugs and eight kisses before he got on the bus.

I didn't expect Finn to be quite so disappointed that he couldn't ride too, but once he figured out that no amount of screaming was going to get him on the bus, he now just gets really excited to see it each day and giggles uncontrollably as it drives away with Max waving through the window.

Ava and I have started fifth grade homeschool.  And I'm not gonna lie, it's been hard.  Really, really hard.

If you looked around, you'd see the blame, perched proudly under the tiny, dangling-off-the-edge-of-the-sofa feet of Finn and Jack.

Let me illustrate.

Ava and I are at the table in the basement, adjacent to a plethora available toys,  playing a math game.  But despite those toys, both little boys insist on being over with us.  Fine. We can work with that.

 As we're playing, we come upon a concept that Ava is not understanding and so I begin to write out some patterns on the white board behind me.  It's a little hard with Finn sitting on my lap, to turn around in my seat and write, but I manage a slew of numbers and begin to explain. When wouldn't you know it, Jack begins screaming.  It's because he doesn't like the feeling of the crayon wax he's just eaten, stuck in his teeth.  Ava's frustration grows because the light bulb hasn't turned on yet and babies are screaming.

I leave Finn to retrieve Jack, scrape out the wax between wails and I turn around to see that Finn, standing on my chair, has just erased the last of the columns worth of patterns I'd written on the board.

Yeah, it's like that.

After a couple of days of it, I started working on Ava, trying to get her to see that if we pushed some of our lessons back to the afternoon, during nap time, at least part of our work could be done without the dooby brothers.  She really likes to get her work done, she hates the idea of it hanging over her head and I can't blame her, but I was honestly doubting my ability to teach and hers to learn in the above mentioned environment.  She finally agreed to give it a try and I am just praying everyday that soon, every single one of us, will find our mojo.  

I'm trying really hard to take some deep breathes in hopes of relieving the great pressure I feel as a mother/teacher combination.  If I could only see the future.  If I only knew whether she'd want to return to public school at some point, or if she will have a great desire to go to a University and need to take the ACT.  There's just so much I don't know, that if I did, would greatly impact how and what I taught.

As we've worked together these past few months, I've gained greater insight and much greater appreciation for the way Ava's mind works.  But even so, it is really still so much a mystery.  She is smart, there's no doubt. But the way she thinks and learns is so very different.  I hope that one day we will both understand it better and that she will come to enjoy the act of learning.  Right now it is such a chore that it is, not surprisingly, hard for her to enjoy.   Though I must say, coming home has been the best thing for her.  She actually says that she likes homeshool and she looks forward to it, which is such a huge win, even the dynamic duo can't drown it out!

In an effort to rearrange the day, we've taken advantage of the beautiful weather and gone on a walk each morning.

I was so sad the neighborhood decided to develop the green space near our house, but at least it provides all the diggers and dirt a little boy could dream of.

And we finally ventured down to the stream that runs behind our neighborhood park.

I anticipate a few more trips there in the future.

I've been struggling to find my peace these days.  To not let my worry about the future, about the unknown, rob me of my ability to be productive and happy.  It has been a struggle.  I want so badly to hand my children a future they're excited about.

I keep having the thought come to mind that I need to dive into my scriptures.  Whether they give me literal answers or spiritual promptings, they always, always give me peace when I read them consistently.

When I returned to the school after the first day of kindergarten, my boys rounded the corner like this. Of course I cried and took a picture. And if this scene is any indication, 

I'm sure there will be some rain and difficulty this year, but as long as we can hold hands through it (and not sell our babies on Ebay) I think we'll be just fine.

Luke is 8

I just can't even pretend I don't think my boy isn't one of the most beautiful things on this planet.

It's just really good we don't live in New York or LA or I'd be one of those crazy parents dragging my kid to auditions and trying to my best to pad his college fund and our retirement plan with his face.

 I know I'm completely biased, but since I formed him from a microscopic egg, I think it's totally my prerogative.

I mean, come on.  If he was selling something, you'd buy it right?

He's eight though.  My biggest boy is eight.

And he's more than just a pretty face.

He's super smart, 

And a little spacey.

He's blunt and realistic.

Yet tender and quiet.

When I played pretend with my sister as a child, the character I preferred to be was one with brown hair and blue eyes.  I'd never met anyone like that before, but I always imagined it would look beautiful.

And now I know I was right.

Friday Sermon

I'm behind on things I'd like to post and it's not even Sunday, but the Holy Ghost taught me something today that I need to write down.

Max starts kindergarten on Monday.  A few weeks ago, I got a call from the school nurse informing me that he was not current on quite a few of the required shots.  I have strong personal feelings about vaccinations and I am fully aware of the controversial nature of my views.

Ava received most of her vaccinations on the recommended schedule, but by the time Luke was a few months old, I was starting to feel very conflicted about that schedule.  It's not that I don't believe they work, or that I believe they cause autism, or that I don't want my kids protected against horrible diseases.

I just started to feel that the amount of vaccinations given at one time was too much.  For my kids.  I can't speak for anyone else's children.  But for those people over whom I have stewardship, the idea that it was not in the best interest of their bodies to send in so much at one time became very strong.  

Ava received the MMR at 3 years old as a requirement for entrance into a private preschool.  Her entire thigh, from nearly hip to knee was swollen, hard, hot, and red for about 5 days. I'm just glad she didn't  recieve it at 18 months along with the other 5-7 recommended vaccines.

I have searched high and low each time we've moved to find a pediatrician who will respect me and work with me.  I have had to leave a few practices, but I am committed to my feelings and impressions and in doing what is best for my children.

So when the nurse called me, I wasn't surprised, and I aim to have the kids all caught up by kindergarten, so I called the pediatrician's office to work out a plan for him to get caught up in the few weeks before school started. 

Last week, while I was at girls camp, he received the chicken pox and polio vaccines. 

And today he was scheduled to get MMR and Hep B. 

But for the past few days I just wasn't feeling good about it. As the appointment neared, my hesitation zeroed in on the MMR. He'd had his first dose a few years ago without complication, so I wasn't sure why I was worried about it. But I was. I nearly cancelled the appointment but ended up deciding early this morning to go ahead and go, talk it through with the nurse, and see about just getting the Hep B and doing whatever it would take to get an exemption (temporarily) for the vaccines he was missing.

And as I drove there, I did what I'm best at and questioned my sanity.

Am I crazy?

Am I just paranoid?

Are my worries valid? 

Should I follow my gut?

Why can't I just be normal and go with the plan?

Well, when I got into the room and the medical assistant confirmed with me our plans for MMR and Hep B, I voiced my concerns, and she was thankfully, very nice. She went back and forth a few times finding out info for me regarding the exemption and the optimal scheduling of the remaining vaccines. 

There was some confusion on what the best order would be and she initially told me if he got the MMR today, he could not receive any other vaccine for 6 weeks because it is a live vaccine. 

But after another check with in with her superiors, she explained her mistake. Having the MMR today did not mean he couldn't receive any other vaccine for 6 weeks, only that he could not receive another LIVE vaccine for 6 weeks. No live vaccines within 6 weeks of each other. So getting the MMR today would be fine, she said. 

Then it came to me.

 Just last week Max received the chicken pox vaccine. A live vaccine. MMR would not be fine today. 

All at once my swirling worries twirled around me one last time and settled very clearly in my view.

When I reminded her about last week's live vaccine, she paused as the realization dawned on her face. 

"Oh my gosh, you're right. (The Holy Ghost is always right.) He can't get the MMR today."

So he got the Hep B, I got my exemption form, and we were on way to Kinder Meet and Greet.

As I drove I had plenty of time to, instead of question myself, thank my Heavenly Father for his watchful care and for the impressions of the Holy Ghost. 

Without a doubt, had I not questioned the plan, Max would have gotten that shot today. 

And whether the results would have been dire or minor, it was important enough, either for Max's health or merely as an added brick to my testimony of God's watchful care, the information came and I am so glad I listened. 

"In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths." Proverbs 3:6

Experiences like these are a cycle that strengthen my trust in the Lord and perpetuate me to further acknowledge Him, which in turn, ensures His continued guidance in my life. 

And I will acknowledge Him forever for the great love and tenderness with which He directs my thoughts and abilities to care for the children we both love.