The Gold Girls

Jam Making
A few weeks back our family studied
The Family: A Proclamation to The World.
This was a timely declaration made by our living prophet.
It is filled with wisdom and truth.
We discussed with the kids this line:
“Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, and wholesome recreational activities.”
We came up with the best ways our family could work on living these principles.
This is what the kids came up with:

 
Faith – Read scriptures daily.
Prayer – Everyone pray more often.
Repentence – Admitting when were wrong and saying sorry.
Forgiveness – Not being upset, loving in return.
Respect – Listening /Put ups instead of Put Downs
Love –  I cannot hurt /Breathe/Support Each Other
Compassion – Include Everyone
Work – Everyone Pitch In
Wholesome Recreational Activities – Activity Jar
 
As I pondered how to implement these things into our home I felt inspired that I needed to take the lead. I have personally been wanting to work on being actively engaged with the kids. I want to lead by example. I want to be more kind. I want to be more respectful and quiet. I want to work hand in hand.
 
I found some strawberries on sale last week.
99 cents for 2 quarts. 
That’s a steal.
The fruit was bought and so was the Sure-Jel.
It was time for some jam making.
 
I felt a feeling that instead of making jam alone that I should include the whole family.
I decided that we would forgo our typical sit down Family Home Evening lesson
and work together.
 
This turned out to be one of the best evenings we’ve spent together as a family.
We worked on the jam, each taking turns with the different jobs.
When we got through the kids burst out into a impromptu jam session.
We never work without music around here.
There was such a feeling of love and cooperation and industry.
I was so happy. 
We had Strawberry Cake for dessert and sat down to
sing, pray, and read from the scriptures about work.
The girls made up a great song.
I am so grateful to a God who listens to my prayers
and answers them.
He answers when I take time to talk to Him honestly
and to listen to Him when he talks back to me
through the Holy Spirit.
I love my family.
They are the best.
I am so glad God has given us tools to learn together and grow closer.
And now, every member of my family knows how to make jam,
but I doubt they will ever want to do it without someone with who they can jam at the same time.
What a sweet evening.
Oh and inquiring minds want to know, I am sure.
The homemade freezer jam recipe is a piece of cake.

Buy a box of sure-jel, a couple quarts of strawberries, and a lot of sugar, and you are good to go.
Make sure you have a freezer safe container.
And did I mention A LOT of sugar.
There is NO better jam in the world.
So yummy.
I’m going to have some now.
All the sudden I am starving.

Table Talk

I am sure that our family is much like most others.

I am sure of it until we sit down to dinner. My husband and kids are all the entertainment a girl could ask for.

Here was the conversation the other night:

LG:
What do you call a man with no arms and no legs hanging on a wall?
Girls:
Art

LG: What do you call a man with no arms and legs floating in a lake?
Girls: Bob.

LG: What do you call a man with no arms and legs in your mailbox?
Me: Envelope?
LG: Bill

Me: Did you just make that one up?
LG: (with a smirk) “Yeah, good one, huh?”

LG: What do you call a man with no arms and legs on your doorstep?
Me: Matt

LG: Why do you have to take my punchline, huh?

Me: What do you call a man with legs and arms that tells bad jokes?
Girls: Dad!!!

LG: What do you call a man with arms and legs that is not appreciated by his family?
Me: Dad?

Bella: What do you call a woman with arms and legs that tells bad jokes?
Silence.
That’s right they know who is boss.
They also know who cooks dinner.

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.

Hiking with Maria
This is Maria.
Maria loves to hike.
She also loves our family,
even though she has threatened to never speak to us again
since we are moving to Utah, and leaving her beloved Tennessee.
Yesterday
we called Maria,
so she could take us to one of her favorite local trails.
She said it was kind of steep,
but I convinced her we could do it.
We headed to House Mountain.
Where the only trail condition is steep.
We all wore out our calves packing 30 pound Caroline.
Maria tried really hard to get a nice family photo for us.

I think she did a pretty good job. Given the incompetency of her models.

I am certain we would have quit before getting to the top without Maria’s help.
Or one of our kids would have fallen off a cliff.

Look she got a great shot. If only LG was looking at the camera this would have been the perfect photo to say goodbye to our life in Tennessee.

Even our dog  loves Maria.

Maria said it all would be worth it
when we got to the top.

I believe she was right.

The Snow Blues
After a month of almost consecutive snow days and Winter Break,
this mom is officially in Cabin Fever mode.
I even pulled out my old gowns as a new point of interest.

I have been in a foul mood.
I am not sure quite why.
It’s a combination of things, I am sure.
The lack of sunshine.
My house being at 60 degrees to conserve cash.
The cooking three meals a day,
EVERY day.
O.k. I’ll be honest:
no breakfast
just lunch dinner and the 4th meal.
The daily routine of
Wizards of Waverly Place, Hannah Montana, and Cake Boss
should be envious.
(And just for the rest of you moms who are trying to survive
with a Netflix membership
because the remote
to the digital converter went missing ages ago
and you don’t have any real T.V.
the last of those three shows is the winner of
Best Entertaining TV)
And there’s nothing like a really long
run-on sentence to express the true sentiment
of my last month.
I’ve been dreaming of going to Carlos’ Bakery
for a warm lobster tail or crumb cake.
Of course, in my dreams,
I am decked out fashionably
with my hair done, make-up on, and nails brightly painted.
I guess if my mind really had some imagination
I should have been wearing a Miley wig
and some Wizard glasses.
Because that is what the kids would find entertaining.
But, in my dreams,
I am all alone.
Go figure.
And then I sit to blog.
Because maybe it will help me find myself.
Or at least pull me out of this mood.
And I stumble upon this old photo:

and I remember how awesome my kids are.
And how fast they grow.
And then the smell of a poopy diaper
brings me back to my senses.
Just as Caroline goes flying off the bottom of treadmill.
And for the millionth time
with my kids
we laugh.
And I think
it’s too bad
their teachers don’t get to
see them at their best.
And I tell myself
to embrace these snow days.
Because even though the days go by so very slow.
The years fly by.
And, next winter,
if I am lucky
The Tennessee weather God
may bring no snow at all.
But of course,
by then I may be living in South Dakota.
And LG will still be saying,
“Oh, but this is still nothing
compared to the Winter of ’88.”
And I will no longer wonder how my mom survived
with seven children
because I will be longing
for my childhood
in
Southern California.
Where snow days
don’t exist.

What a year.
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So, here is your Christmas card.
If you are a diehard,
you can print us out and put us up on your wall
so you can prove to all incomers
that you really do have friends.

This year was the kind
that we didn’t have a professional photo.
We also didn’t want to spend for the
cost of printing and mailing.

To put it lightly,
our family has been tried tremendously.
To put it honestly,
we have walked through hell
and we are hoping that we are on our way back.

It was the kind of year that made me grateful
for a simple family snapshot.
Even if it was
as an afterthought,
and we ended up with a crappy backdrop,
and the sun was in our eyes.

You see
we were on our way to church,
together.

And together
is
huge.
It’s more than anyone can ask for.

This morning
I realized that I wanted a living record
of the end of this year,
as I looked at my daughters
and the love of my life.
We were all in the colors,
black, white, and red.

And I saw that as a great representation
of a very hard year.

We are all
still trying to do the right things.
Together.
And that pretty much sums it up.
God has held us together
in the palm of His hand.

And I am extremely
humbled
and
grateful.
And happy.

I look forward in faith.
Even if the sun has been blinding.
And what better Christmas message is there?

My daughters would not be any more beautiful
with a professional photo to prove it.
My marriage would not be as strong
without the trials and intense work.
My friends would not have reached out to us
in such love
without our pain.
Our gratitude for loving parents
would not be as deep
without the struggle.
And our testimony of a loving God
would not be as intimate.

I think we have every reason
to
rejoice.

Jesus Christ makes all things possible.
He is love and light.
He will blind you
if that is what it takes
to heal you,
to love you,
and
to know you.

And when you get through it,
you will be grateful for a sun so bright.
Even if it hurt temporarily.

Merry Christmas to you.
Especially if the sun is blinding your eyes.

How to dress up like a cow
We recently took a trip to Chick-Fil-A
for some free chicken.

All you had to do was dress up like a cow.

It was in this setting that I realized,

that moms can try as hard as they want:
they can make costumes
and help coordinate efforts

but, they can
never
even
try to
replace
dad.

LG is such a good sport.
Or he really just likes free chicken.
Nobody got his costume.
Except for this other dad,
standing close by
in his sissy
jersey spots.
He let out a good manly chuckle
at the sight of LeGrand,
being the man that he is.
I think he is going to rethink
his costume next year.
I wonder how many men
will show up as bulls
next time?
But, remember,
you saw it here first.
LeGrand needs all the manly points
he can get
in this household
full of women.
Like our 4 daughters
always say,
“even our cat and dog
are girls.”

For Abigail…
…and anyone else who has an interest in make-up.
Even if you aren’t 11 years old.
I wear make up 3 times a month. Max.
But I was mesmorized.
Michelle Phan knows what she is doing.
And her voice is soothing.
I wonder how much she spends on her make-up
or if it is all given to the cause.

.

Check out her other stuff.
Lady Gaga’s Bad romance and Poker Face.

Then you can watch this spoof.
It’s funny, but you will be tempted to X it
from boredom.
But wait for the flour.
So funny.

Love Hate Relationship
I won’t tell you who constructed such a fine piece of artwork.
As they might have morning after regret.
But, I will tell you
that karma is a bummer.
And for all the times I said this exact thing to my mom
I want you to know
that I always knew you didn’t hate me.

If helping you to learn to clean your room
so you can have
a nice home of your own someday
means I hate you,
then I hate you.
If disciplining you for
disobedience
so that you will learn
that actions have consequences
means I hate you,
then I hate you.
If reading scriptures with you every day,
so that you will know
the love of God and Christ
means I hate you,
then I must hate you.
If sitting down with you to
do your homework
every day after school
so you won’t be a procrastinator
means I hate you
then I hate you.
If telling you to hurry
because you are going to be late
for soccer again,
so that you will learn to be responsible
means I hate you,
then I hate you.
If asking you to remember
and wash your face every night
so you won’t be scarred
by the effects of
adolescent acne
means I hate you,
then I hate you.
If taking your phone away
so that you can learn to
have a real conversation
means I hate you,
then I hate you.
If requiring you to wear
modest clothes
so that you will
have self-respect
means I hate you,
then I hate you.
If limiting your TV time
so that you won’t
turn into a couch potato
means I hate you,
then I hate you.
If asking you to help
with household chores
so that you will learn
to be a contributing member of society
means I hate you
then I hate you.
Now,
go back,
and read
every one
of these stanzas
over again.
And where they say,
“means I hate you
then I hate you”
please replace with
“means I love you,
then I love you.”
And then add this last one.
If laughing
when you make a sign like this
so that you will
learn not to take
yourself too serious
means I love you,
then you must know
that I really love you.
Because I am still laughing.