Bella

Sure Signs of Summer
It’s officially summer!

Here is a haiku poem a wrote and memorized 
in the 5th grade.
School is out today.
Here the children scream
yeah yeah.
School must start again.

Pretty deep if you ask me.

I wonder if the kids want me to surprise them with an after-school slurpee again?
I think Caroline is a true Southern girl.
Slurpees are too sour for her tastes.
I think she might prefer icees.

I think we need this oversize chair for all the camping we plan to do.
Or I could just watch slip and slide time out my kitchen window.
Either way, it’s definitely summer.
School is out today.
Hear the mother scream
yeah yeah.
Lazy days I love.

Grassy Feet
Did you hear that the way to really get air on the trampoline
is to get as much grass as possible
to stick to the bottom of your feet?
The grass gives you super powers.
You can jump over houses
and touch the top of 
mountains.

Even Olive was amazed.
I’ve learned to enjoy the moment.
And then scrub the feet.

My Joy is Full

When LG and I had been married about three weeks, we attended the temple together. Once inside we went our separate ways for an hour of learning and service. He went with other men and I went with other women. While there, one statement played over and over again in my head, as if God was trying to tell me something.

“Have joy in your posterity.”

When I rejoined LG as we walked back to our car, he said, “Alice, you are being mighty quiet, do you have something to tell me?” There was no way that I was about to tell LG that I thought God was trying to tell us to have children, when we had only been married three weeks. I said, “I’m fine.” LG’s reply, stunned me: “Alice I felt it every time too, and the temple worker even said ‘Son, now go and have joy in your posterity’ as I was leaving.”

My jaw dropped. God had been talking to me!! And He spoke to LG at the same time so that there would be no confusion or arguing. It took me 6 months of wrestling with the Lord until I was ready to listen. I guess we all act like Jonah at times. I knew if we were to have children so soon that I would more than likely have to forgo my greatest desire, which was to finish college. But, I chose to trust that God knew what He was talking about. I was pregnant shortly after our first anniversary.

Almost fourteen years later, I am still waiting for my chance to finish college. I have been the main nurturer of the children while my husband has gotten all the education a man could ever want. It hasn’t even been a sacrifice really. I so appreciate the fact that my husband has busted his tail to play the role of student/provider and has 100% supported me in having as much time as I want with our kids. I don’t even try to pretend that I know what God is doing, but I do know that I have the rest of my life to finish my coveted college degree and I will never regret its postponement as I think of all the moments that I have been able to appreciate.

I love my children and am so grateful for them. I am proud to be their mother. There is no joy greater than the joy I feel with my husband and our posterity.

Sometimes the joy is so full that it takes me breathe away.

More on joy in posterity here.

Lessons from the Easter Eggs
Everyone starts with smiles.
Caroline has the best “cheese” ever.
Sophia is a close second.

And how quickly they turn on you.

And turn some more.

 O.k. Caroline, you can have a turn.

Now everybody is happy.

Some like to eat. Some like to show off.
I prefer eating.
And then showing off.

Sophia gave this awesome talk in primary on Easter. She wrote it all by herself.


We are all like Easter eggs.

We are all like Easter eggs because when a chicken lays an egg it is white, smooth, and good to be eaten and it is like Heavenly Father is the chicken and we are the eggs, when Heavenly Father sent us down to earth we were white, smooth, and whole.
When we come to earth it is like we are in a package and our parents keep us in the safe package until we are eight. When we are eight and get baptized, we have to take care of our own egg.
When we sin our egg gets dirty and gross. Sometimes people sin so bad that it’s like their egg breaks apart and splatters all over the kitchen floor.
For the egg to go back to Heavenly Father, it has to be white pure and how it was when you came to earth. But, when we mess up our eggs, we can’t fix the egg by ourselves. If we tried to clean up our eggs ourselves it would just get more and more broken and make a bigger mess.
The only one who can fix us or forgive us (or our egg) is Jesus Christ. So when we sin, we have to ask for Jesus Christ to use the Atonement to fix our egg. The only way Jesus Christ could make it possible to fix our eggs was for Him to atone for our sins in the Garden of Gethsemane and to die for us on the cross.
I want to keep my egg clean white and non-broken and I am very happy that Jesus Christ will fix my egg even when it gets dirty and disgusting and broken.


The trek west
.

I only made time for a photo op when I knew we were on the last leg of our trip This was taken shortly after I stopped at the Utah Visitor’s Center to make sure I wasn’t lost. The previous 100 miles were nervous making. I was sure I took a wrong turn somewhere in Colorado. For 100 miles I debated with myself about turning around. I could have kissed those old ladies that live in the middle of nowhere when they told me I was on the right route. My phone’s GPS wasn’t working and there was no service to double check with LG that I was following my directions correctly. And the atlas was with LG in the moving van because Abigail loved checking it throughout the trip. All I could do is be the Mormon Pioneer that I am and forge ahead.
Oh yeah, funny side story. When I called my dad to talk to him about the details of our arrival the week before we left Tennessee, we got talking about the move-in. He asked me if we had a hand cart. I couldn’t figure out why he asked me that. Did all people need an obligatory historical handcart to move into the state of Utah now-a-days? I had never heard of such a thing and there was no way we would be fitting one in our truck along with the thousand pounds of food storage. I told my dad, “No dad, we have a moving truck. Penske. It’s the 21st century. It’s not going to take us months. Hopefully. Just four days, dad. Hoepfully.” He and I laughed heartedly when he explained that he meant one of those little dolly things to unload the boxes from the truck.

Here are the only other photos that were taken on the trip:

Even though this was taken on the same stop at the Welcome to Utah sign, it could speak volumes for the wind that we experienced all the way through Kansas, the third day of the trip. We traveled through what seemed to be a lot of dead farmland, but as the car was thrown all over the road by the wind and repeatedly ran over tumbleweeds it was no surprise that we were in tornado territory. All I could do is hold tight, click my heals together and chant repeatedly “there’s no place like home”.

Olive made it. She thought she was miserable until we arrived and she found out that her new home would be “outside only”. She hates the garage, even if it is attached to the yard for her own leisure. She especially hates it when we are eating dinner. She goes outside and howls at the kitchen window, hoping for some scraps. The kids have made a game of standing on the kitchen bench and waving to her throughout our meal. I can only hope that as I adjust, so will Olive. At least I’ve figured out how to get her to stop howling through the night. Apparently locking her inside her kennel makes her feel safer. Go figure?
And there are no pictures of Kitty Bear. We drugged her up really good every morning and the drugs usually lasted until we had 1 -2 hours left each night, when while we were all at our end’s wit, we tried to ignore her meowing and scratching at her kitty carrier. I won’t even mention how when we stayed with our friends in Colorado on our last night, when we went to leave, we couldn’t find her anywhere in their garage. We searched for a good 15 minutes. I thought it especially generous that we searched at all considering she had kept us up the whole evening before meowing at the door. 
Kitty Bear must be a true Gold family member. She is always out to entertain. For some real fun, we couldn’t find her at all the whole day after we arrived in Utah. We were sure she had taken off to try to go back home to Tennessee. She had snuck in the house and was hiding in the food storage room. I guess that is where she took the most comfort because it’s the only room of our new house that has any semblance to her old space. Boy was I relieved to find her! After 4 days of drugging and dragging and scratching and wrestling and chasing, she had better not run out on us now.

A great shot of a dirty windshield if I do say so myself.  You would never guess that at every gas stop the girls fought and fought over who got to do the windows. That wasn’t the only fight along the way, but this mom stayed focus. They pretty much fended for themselves. Caroline came up with the game of throwing her pacifier at the windshield and yelling “paci, paci, paci” when she was really had it, which was pretty much every day from an hour after we got into the van. Notice the photo above where she has one pacifier in her mouth and one in her hand. Every stop we would gather as many as we could like ammunition. 
I was taken back by the blue in the skies. Who would have known that we barely missed a great big snow storm the day before. Only LG who was driving the moving truck with car trailer down the Rockies. You would think that the ritziest ski resort in the nation, Vail, would do a better job of making sure their roads were plowed. Needless to say, these Tennesseans who are very out of practice driving in snow were white knuckled for about three hours. Especially after passing accident after accident while winding and stopping and travelling what seemed straight downhill with a gorge on the side.
And for good measure. Here is the best shot Abigail could manage of the most entertaining thing we saw the whole way. Forget the St. Louis arches or the majestic snow topped Rockies. Here is what got the most laughs. The Wiener Mobile. It’s a good thing that Sophia was with dad in the moving truck because of all my children she would be the one to get the bright idea that this should be her only formidable mode of transportation when she turns 16.

As you all know by now, we made it.

Barely.

Thanks for all the prayers.

What I really want to know though is who is the jokester that included the request for the WienerMobile
and how did you know it was exactly what I needed after four days on the road?

Tennessee Bridge
Please excuse my boo-hooing. This is going to be a very sentimental post.

I’m already crying and I haven’t even started writing yet. I’m a mess.

When my father in law e-mailed this photo, he had appropriately named it “looking west”.
 Maybe I should also get him to send me the other side entitled “looking east”
 as I am sure there will always be a part of me that will do both.

In 2003, LG and I, with our three little daughters crossed over this bridge for the first time as a family. The girls were so young: 4,2, and newborn. We had come across the country for law-school and Grandma Gold’s empty house was a perfect place for us to crash while we house hunted (an hour and a half away) in Knoxville. It was two doors down from my in-laws, which is about a mile beyond this bridge. We didn’t know it at the time, but we started a tradition. It had been a long trip, where we learned all sorts of car sanity games. We challenged Abigail to a Tennessee Bridge off. She must suck in all the air support she could and holler “Tennessee Bridge” as we drove over. She should not stop hollering until we safely reached the side closer to grammy’s house.

Well, here we are, almost eight years later. LG’s employment is going to drag us back to where we came from. We can’t complain. It’s a great job. We love Utah and we know it’s what God wants us to do, but it is very emotional…especially for a big sap like me.
My mother in law just posted a picture of the bridge on facebook and said they are closing it down. They have built a bigger and better bridge off  to the other side. All I can do is cry. And reminisce. And scream, “Nothing can be bigger or better.”
So many trips and holler contests are flying through my brain. Abigail is 4, then 5 then 11, ever increasing in volume and intensity. Sophia was 2 and couldn’t quite pronounce the words, but still hollered right along with her sister and now she quite possible has some of the best breathe control. Bella was probably just crying that first trip across, but her volume was likely as loud as it is today, even though the words now come out loud and clear: TENNESSEEEEE BRRRIIIIIIIDDDDDDGGGGE. 
Sometimes the girls were in soccer uniforms or church dresses. Sometimes the car was loaded down with winter gear and Christmas presents. Or food that we didn’t want to go bad in our fridge at home. Sometimes we had a cat with us and a dog. But never both the cat or the dog. Thank goodness. Sometimes they were in bathing suits and we may have even had the occasional birthday suit in there. I can smell the homemade loaves of bread that Faye sent home with us and the Thanksgiving leftovers. I am blinded by the black of most of the nights when we were headed back home while I calculated which caffeinated soda I would purchase at the corner gas station just beyond the bridge. The kids would already be falling asleep and wouldn’t even notice the bridge.
LG and I got really good at driving across that bridge super slow while the kids’ faces turned bright red and finally gave in to the need for oxygen. A parent has to do what they have to do for the occasional win. We would have to remind ourselves not to slow down if it was at night and the girls weren’t paying attention. The girls have now turned their attention to teaching baby Caroline the tradition.
I am not sure how many times LG told me of his trips to the little market close to the bridge while we drove by. “I always got my gas there when I was a teenager.” “Dad and I used to stop there for worms when we would go fishing.” “We used to drive our bikes down here when we were kids”, to which I would reply, “Are you kidding me? This highway is frightening.” The response would always follow, “Yeah Alice, I’ve told you a million times, we would take the back-roads; they are so much safer.” I would laugh inside because I don’t think that there are really any safe back-roads in the whole state of Tennessee; I have personally puked while trying them out in the car. That’s when I started driving everywhere so I could avoid car sickness.
But back to the bridge. They are tearing it down. They are tearing down a piece of our family. And I can’t stop crying, but I guess it is kind of fitting since we have to move forward. We can’t stay here forever.But even if we aren’t going to be Tennessee residents and even if we aren’t going to get to visit grammy and papa as often, we now know that at least a piece of each of our hearts will forever be floating down the great Holston River. I think I can hear it as it faintly rolls along to the tune of Tenneeesssssseeeee Briiiddddgee.
wah wah wah.

Really Sick

On Friday morning, I was surprised to find Abigail and Sophia ready to go while Bella was still laying on the couch in her jammies. LG explained that he told Bella she could stay home from school as she had thrown up minutes before.

“Alright”, I said, “but you look fine to me Bella, maybe you should try to go.” Bella was having none of that. I let her stay home. She acted fine all day long.

I picked up Abigail after school; Bella was at home with Daddy and wasn’t in the car for the conversation. Abigail felt it pressing to explain to me that Bella had succeeded at faking it. I told dad this morning that she did not throw up.


All she did was burp and spit.

As Abigail tattled away, I was thinking to myself that I wished I was a morning person so I could catch these things better. I was also thinking it was o.k. because Bella entertained her baby sister while I went back to bed for a few more zzz’s. And this mom can never get enough sleep. So if you don’t like how I roll, just pretend I was sick. I can also burp and spit on demand.

Not so glee

I have this problem.
I can hardly admit it.
It’s an addiction that a Mormon doesn’t like to talk about.
We try to keep it in the closet as much as possible.

Once in a while it just comes bursting out though.
I need to rid myself of the guilt.
The Glee induced guilt.
It doesn’t feel glee.

Yesterday I was sitting watching the show after school.
Hulu is my best friend, ever since Caroline lost our digital converter remote.
The girls gathered around.
I always get nervous about this.
I know I shouldn’t let them watch such trash.
This episode was particularly trashy.
I try to justify saying it gives us an open communication
about the evils of today’s world.

Well the show was all about under-aged drinking.
Just as the girls gathered around,
the main characters were gathering at a party.
Before I knew it, they were all drinking heavily
and doing stupid things associated with intoxication.

I said, “See kids, this is why Dad and I won’t allow you to go to parties where there is drinking.”

Later, Bella wandered off for an after school snack.
As she came walking back towards our TV viewing via PC,
she immediately noticed that the characters
had advanced to drinking at school.
Without missing a breathe, she hollars,
“See Mom, this is why you shouldn’t allow us to go to school.”