A Christmas Story

It all started last Thursday. The kids were running to the car after school, first William, then Lily then Emma. I could see their lips were moving but since the window was shut I couldn't hear them yet. They were obviously anxious to share something with me. Once the door was opened Emma breathlessly states, "I went to pick up Will, but he was in the office so I ran to the office and he had already gone soooooo, I had to go all the way back to Ms Paddock's room and he wasn't there either. Ho, I'm tired," she takes a breath, "So then I had to go to Dad's classroom to see if he was there, and he was, but when I asked him why he was in the office, he dropped his back pack and ran off and, . . .I CAN'T STAND IT WHEN HE DOES THAT! I always have to carry my back pack and his back pack. . .its so frustrating."

"Wow, you had to traverse the whole school to find him didn't you?"

"Yeah, what's traverse?"

"Go back and forth."

"Oh, yeah, I traversed. I asked him why he was in the principals office and he said he didn't want to tell me and he ran off."

Lily pipes in, "Will you talk to him because he keeps running off and he doesn't listen to us."

"Yes I will talk to him. Do you want to play in the park?" Off they go. Will had already stopped in and made a b-line over to the park, without saying a single thing. I was wondering why he was called into the principals office. Every time he hits his brother, or pushes his sister, which isn't all the time, but it does happen, I ask "Do you know what would happen if you did that in school?"

to which he replies, "I would be sent to the principals office. . ."

And then I add, "Yes, it is serious stuff!" Why did he go to the principals office? Did he haul off and sock a kid? Did he talk back to his teacher?

Later when we got home, I asked him, his response was, "I don't want to tell you, but I didn't get into trouble."

"Is it a surprise?"

"Yes, it is about Christmas." Well come to find out, the local paper was at the school and they wanted to interview first and second graders about what they wanted for Christmas. In particular they were looking for kids who were missing their front teeth--That describes Will perfectly, just add loves to laugh and kiss girls and it would be a definitive description. Needless to say, Will was one of the children chosen. We waited for the day when our Will would be famous. He was excited.
Yesterday, Richard brings the paper home from school and on the front page, we see our Will and his quote "I want lots of legos because my dad is going to help me build with them." Richard is the best lego builder in all of the western hemisphere, seriously, I am not a lego expert by any means, but Will is, and in his eyes, he is the best.

"Hurray for Will!" we all cheer, "Your famous!" To which Will does a little dance, runs around the house and kisses Emma on the cheek.

Fast Forward to today: I decide to check my messages on the home phone, I don't do it often because we have no reminder for our voice mail so there are usually A LOT. One of the messages is from a Wilma, whose soft scratchy voice shakes slightly, it was 9: am Sunday Morning: "Hello, I am calling because I saw in the paper, a little boy by the name of William who wants legos for Christmas. I have a big box of legos that I would just love to give to him. I hope that this is his house, please call me at this number. . ." How sweet is that, I thought. She was so excited to give him this box, and to make his wish come true. . . before I was done listening to all the messages I heard another message from her. She was obviously anxious to talk to him.

I called her right away, I was unable to get a hold of her, but left a grateful message anyway.

Later that afternoon I had Will call her, again, no answer. I asked him to leave a message, when mid message, I overhear her pick up. Her muffled voice is excited and full of enthusiasm as she speaks to Will who shyly answers and says thank you. Once they are through talking I get on and make plans to meet her. I offered to bring her dinner because of her generous spirit, I made soup and felt she would enjoy it. She gratefully accepts.

We arrive and knock on the door and she answers, looks directly at Will, claps her hands and says "I recognize that face." She reaches down and gives him a big hug, then she grabs is face in her hands and says, "I fell in love with that face the moment I saw it." then she looks up and asks us to come in. I introduce each of my children to her and she in turn gives each of them a big hug. The kids gravitate over to her little puppy and this gives me a chance to talk with her for a few moments. I wanted to find out about this lady, I wanted to know what we could do for her. Was she lonely, did she have family near, was she married, Did she have a place to go for Christmas Eve? It seemed that all those things were in the affirmative. I mentioned that I would love to have her over for dinner some time and I would call and make arrangements. She was excited and grateful.

She called Will over and gave him a big bucket of Legos that she kept for just the right little boy. All her grandchildren and great grandchildren were all grown now and so she wanted to give them away, but to whom? Once she saw Will's picture in the paper she knew where her legos were going to go. Will shyly accepted with a big toothless smile.

I gathered the children and prepared them to leave, I gave her a hug and once again expressed my gratitude to her for her thoughtfulness. And then I witnessed her reach down and give Will another big hug as she said, "William, always remember that there are angels all around you, they are always watching you and taking care of you. Do you know that?" Will nodded shyly, And then I saw her vigorously hug each of my other children like they were her own grandchildren. I saw the joy in her face and the smiles on their faces and I felt a wave of emotion at witnessing this angel, this loving surrogate grandmother, love these children like they were her own. And seeing my children accepting her love and giving it back. I couldn't hold back the tears.

It has been a little over a year since their grandmothers have passed on. My children lost both of their grandmothers within 8 weeks time. Both losses were sudden and unexpected. Both women were strong, talented matriarchs and full of love and devotion. Both woman served their families and their grandchildren tirelessly. My children often say, I miss grandma and nana. They are missed.

I grew to understand that this gift that Wilma gave was not just for Will, but for all of us. She was extending a grandmothers warmth, a grandmothers joy, a grandmothers love to my family who are without a grandmother now. She welcomed them with the same enthusiasm that my mother would welcome them. She gave with the same warmth and joy that their Nana would give to them, and she loved them with the same tenderness that they both gave. I know that my mom and Nana are pleased that a grandmother touched my children and loved them since they are not here to do it themselves. Wilma is right, angels are watching and taking care of them, which is what I tell them all the time, I feel knowing this softens the loss for me and for them, as well as I BELIEVE it to be true

How simple it is to love and to reach out. How far reaching it can be. How blessed we are. Now, how can I do the same?

Wicked Redux

I was dropping my girls off to Claire. Rob and I were going to see WICKED! at the Pantages and Claire wanted to take all five girlies to the planetarium. Yes, she is super mom.

"Where's Claire?" I say to my brother who has illegally parked his car on the side street.
"She is at the box office checking into purchasing tickets for Wicked." Rob is anxious. He wants to get to the theater and get to his seat. Unlike me, he does not like to be late. I, on the other hand, have been known to be late, and quite often. It is recycled joke in our family, the girls are always late and the boys have "The Curse." What is The Curse you ask? My dad has always said that he has the curse and that he has passed it on down to his sons and his grandsons. They have the unfortunate malady of being so good looking, that all woman swoon when they are near--so is the folklore in our family. Whether it is true or not, I don't know. They don't have that affect upon me. Anyway, as I was saying, Rob doesn't like to be late so he was feeling anxious. After dropping my girls off and giving them kisses, I head down the street to catch up with Scott and Adie.
As I approach my family, I see Claire there, telling everyone that you can come two hours before every performance and submit your name in a lottery for two front row tickets to the show for $25. What?
yes $25
say it again. . .
$25
one more time. . .
$25
It is true, everyone in your party can submit their name for two $25 dollar tickets. If you name is pulled from the lottery, You Win!! We decided to take the chance. While standing in line we found out that everyone who signed up for the lottery can buy tickets for $45--down in the mezzanine--decent seats!

We didn't win but Claire was able to get tickets from someone to did win, however, they didn't want them because they wanted to sit next to their friends. So she bought the tickets for the $45 dollar price she would have paid for them at the ticket booth, and she and Avery got to sit on the first row. Yea! Good Karma! If anyone deserves it, it is my good sister, Claire.

Here is a picture of Claire with the girls right after they got their tickets.

We decided to go and get something to eat before the show, so we meandered down the boulevard and found a Subway. We ordered and ate up. Here is Avery chatting about the phases of the moon. I love her expression. She is full of knowledge and energy and we loved hearing her share what she knew.

Here are the girls who waited on us. I was cracking up because I kept asking questions about the sandwiches and the girls were looking at me with an attitude of , "the menu is simple, what about it don't you understand?" Of course then I had to continue to ask questions about the menu and then I even got into job satisfaction. In the end they were smiling. . . however it may have been just to pacify me.


What I love about Claire is she can make the best of any situation. The show was going to start in about an 45 min. We decided that the girls needed a little grooming, neither of us had a brush or a comb. So Claire grabbed a fork and began grooming. I don't think that Avery was very excited about the idea.
But it worked. The girls looked marvelous. Here is Elyse before:

And here she is after: What a beauty, What a little work with a utensil can do for your image.Here we are walking back to the Pantages. See the sign in the background, only it reads "antages."

Here we are in front of the theater. While we were walking back to the theater we met a man who had seen the production 5 times. Yes, I said that right, five times. (two of which he won lottery tickets. Ssee it can be done.) He informed us where to go for the best group shot. We figured he knew what he was talking about.
Here are Claire and Avery showing their first row ticket to the usher. LUCKY Girls!

Here is that guy who took my camera earlier in the day. He's either with us or against us! Boo! Hssssssssss.
The reviews:

Lily says, "Going to see Wicked was awesome because it can be scary with the monkeys and the music was great."

Emma says, "I love the music!!!!"

Love spending time with Claire and the girls. It was a great memory.

Lullabye Legacy

I've mentioned before that if I could, I would sing a solo in Sacrament meeting. I would sing my heart out if I could. . . and I would if I didn't mind making people uncomfortable, which I am sure would happen. People would pretend to be listening intently, they may even smile, but the smile would be a way for them to control their laughter. Really, I am not being humble or fishing for compliments, or any such thing. I know what I can do and singing a solo just isn't it. I got soul, but I can't sing, and that's okay. I remember one time when I was teaching a group of Stars at the time, (four year old primary children). It was our first ward out of college in Sacramento CA. I prepared to sing them a song as a part of the lesson. There they sat in a semi circle, their sweet little faces were reverently watchful as I began to sing the song. When I finished, smiling, all the kids smiled back at me. . .I asked them if they would like me to sing it to them again, to which they responded, shaking their heads, with a resounding, "No" All of them were in agreement. They might have liked the song, but they didn't like me singing it. Which is okay. I love the honesty of children.

But you know what, every night my children want me to sing to them. And I do, unashamedly. I sing my solo and they listen contently. All of my children have been serenaded to sleep as tiny babies and then into their toddlerhood. Every night I get to sing my heart out to my little ones and they love it. They even ask for encores. . .Pure joy for me.




My sweet William, being six, still wants me to sing, and in particular the same song every night. He calls it the flower song "Sing me the flower song." I've mentioned before that I have made attempts to sing other songs and he has flatly refused. I respect a man who knows what he wants and asks for it. . . so I have obliged him these last 6 years.




However, I want to be challenged. I think I have mastered the flower song. In fact I think that I could actually get up in Sacrament and sing that song and actually get away with it. So in my efforts to find other options, I remembered a song by James Taylor called "Close Your Eyes" that I sang to my eldest child, Mitchy the Kid, who is now 18, and I thought that I should try to sing that to William. He liked it. Who wouldn't really.

The next night, William began singing it at the dinner table, and I picked up and started singing with him to help him with the lyrics

Well, the sun is slowly sinking down, and the moon, it surely rises,
And this old world will still be spinning round,
And I Still Love You!

So close your eyes, you can close your eyes, its alright,
I don't know no love songs, and I can't sing the blues anymore
but I can sing this song, and you can sing this song,
when I am gone.

It won't be long before another day,
And we're gonna have a good time,
and no ones gonna take that time away,
and you can stay as long as you like

So close your eyes, you can close your eyes, it's alright,
I don't know no love songs, and I can't sing the blues anymore,
but I can sing this song, and you can sing this song,
when I'm gone.

To which my oldest, who is now a man, and who I swear has never heard that song since he was a baby in his crib, said urgently, "What's that song? No, really, who sings that song? I've heard that song before?" I was astounded by his reaction. We don't have that song on tape, cd, itunes or any such thing, so he has not experienced it recently, that I know of. I smiled as I looked at his reaction and realized it was my singing of that song that he remembered. His urgency to place the song made me realize it was coming from a distant part of his mind, but he wanted to recall it, to bring it back to the fore front, and wouldn't we all want to be able to remember those softly serene moments of security and safety. Wouldn't we all want to recall and relive those times that bring us peace and love. I would imagine it was like seeing a favorite children's book that was read to you as a child. This happens to me when I see illustrations of old books that I had long forgotten. I get this wave of emotion and memory, more than nostalgia, I can't explain it. Some of my fondest memories are of my mother reading to me, especially, chapter books. As the story progressed, we would share the experience together. I smile when I think about it.

That night I got on the internet and began searching other lullabies that I can sing to my kids. I found a great website that plays the melodies of some of the lullabies (something I need)Click here if you want the the site. I have two new ones that I am working on right now: "All Through the Night," and "All The World Loves to Hear Mothers Sing" I need to remind myself of the melodies every night, but gradually these too will be part of my repertoire. These lullabies will sink deep into their sweet souls and hopefully they won't forget them. Hopefully they will remember them and sing them to their babies one day. This is my hope, to create a legacy of lullabies.

Here Is The Boy That Came to Stay--For Allison

Here is the Boy that came to stayHere is the kid that groomed the boy that came to stay.

Here is the boy that fixed the hair, That was groomed by the kid, on the boy that came to stay.

Here is the chicken and waffles eaten by the boys that fixed the hair that was groomed by the kid, on the boy that came to stay.
Here are the hours kept by the boys, who ate the chicken and waffles, after the boy fixed the hair groomed by the kid on the boy that came to stay.


Here is the food eaten by the boys that kept the hours between 12pm to 3am, that ate the chicken and waffles, after the boy fixed the hair, groomed by the kid, on the boy that came to stay.









Here is the constipation caused by the food eaten by the boys between the hours of 12pm to 3am, that ate the chicken and waffles, after the boy fixed the hair groomed by the kid on the boy that came to stay.Here are the memories that were shared by the boys that had the constipation from eating the food when they kept the hours from 12pm - 3am, that ate the chicken and waffles after the boy fixed the hair groomed by the kid on the boy that came to stay.

























Here's the remains of the feast devoured by the boys, who shared the memories that had the constipation from eating the food, between the hours from 12pm - 3am, that ate the chicken and waffles after the boy fixed the hair groomed by the kid on the boy that came to stay.Here are the silly pictures taken by the boys that devoured the feast, who shared the memories that had the constipation from eating the food, between the hours from 12pm - 3am, that ate the chicken and waffles after the boy fixed the hair groomed by the kid on the boy that came to stay.


Here's the house of the King(Larry) that was decorated by the boys that took the silly pictures that devoured the feast, who shared the memories that had the constipation from eating the food, between the hours from 12pm - 3am, that ate the chicken and waffles, after the boy fixed the hair, groomed by the kid, on the boy that came to stay.
Here is the tree that the boys trimmed, that was in the house owned by King, that was decorated by the boys that took the silly pictures, while devouring the feast, who shared the memories, that had the constipation from eating the food, between the hours from 12pm - 3am, that ate the chicken and waffles, after the boy fixed the hair, groomed by the kid, on the boy that came to stay.
Here is the show seen by the boys, that trimmed the tree, that was in the house owned by King, that was decorated by the boys, that took the silly pictures, while devouring the feast, who shared the memories and had the constipation from eating the food, between the hours from 12pm - 3 am, that ate the chicken and waffles after the boy fixed the hair groomed by the kid on the boy that came to stay.
Here is the thrift store where the boys shopped, to buy some clothes, to take to the show, after they trimmed the tree, in the house owned by King, that was decorated by the boys, that devoured the feast, who shared the memories, and had the constipation from eating the food, between the hours from 12pm - 3 am, that ate the chicken and waffles after the boy fixed the hair, groomed by the kid, on the boy that came to stay.

Here's the free shoes that took the boy home, that he got at the thrift store, when they bought some clothes, to take to the show, after they trimmed the tree, in the house owned by King, that was decorated by the boys, that devoured the feast, who shared the memories, and had the constipation from eating the food, between hours from 12pm - 3 am, that ate the chicken and waffles after the boy fixed the hair, groomed by the kid, on the boy that came to stay.These are the memories for the mom that loves the boy that came to stay that bought the shoes that took him home, that he got at the thrift store when they bought some clothes, to take to the show, after they trimmed the tree, in the house owned by King, that was decorated by the boys, that devoured the feast, who shared the memories, and had the constipation from eating the food, between hours from 12pm - 3 am, that ate the chicken and waffles after the boy fixed the hair, groomed by the kid, on the boy that came to stay.

Allison, I love him like my own. He was polite, helpful, well mannered and all those things you have trained him to be. We miss him. Jake your always welcome in our home!

Love you!

I Feel Wicked!

I got a call from my sweet sis Adie:
"We have two extra tickets to Wicked for this Friday. Would you like to go?"
What? a free ticket to Wicked?. . .Is Elphaba Green? (That is what I wish I had said if I had been familiar with the play, but since I had never seen it before I said, "Wow, let me check!" definitely not as clever, but as Alli says, I must maintain blogger integrity.

Needless to say I found myself driving to LA on Friday for a chance to see the much acclaimed Wicked.

We all met out at the Pantages for the big event. Here is a shot of Barbara, Dad and Rob (their chaperone--doesn't this shot look like he is?). Notice Dad is very serious and keeping his hands to himself.

As always, Scott and Adie looked great. I have decided that Scott should run for office. It seems that everywhere we go, Scott seems to know someone. When were taking a group shot some women jumped into the shot, we were all bewildered and come to find out she knew Scott. Then, when sitting in the theater, he knew the people sitting in front of us. However, I have decided that I won't be impressed until he can introduce me to Bono. . . Work on that one for me will you big brother?

When entering the theater I wanted to record the moment. "Hey dad, will you take a picture of Rob and I."

"Sure!" dad said, after handing him the camera and pointing out which button to push (my dad gets exasperated when it comes to technology) Rob and I sat where we could get the stage in the background. Just as dad was about to take the picture, a petite usher approached us,"Um please put your camera away, and don't take any photographs."

"Who says?" my dad said in a voice that was as intimidating as he could muster. The usher looked at him with wide eyes and Barbara put her head in her lap. Once everyone began to laugh, the usher shuffled away nervously. My dad did this soley for Barbara. He likes to tease her and keep her on her toes. She doesn't know quite how to read him yet, and he enjoys her expressions.

"Oh just take the picture, just make sure he isn't looking" says the lady behind us. She flashes us her camera showing her support. We agree feeling that we have the right to disobey this ridiculously unfair rule enforced by this enemy army of vested ushers. I look up the aisle to try to locate the usher and encourage my dad to take the picture. "Go ahead dad, just turn the flash off an take it." My dad looks at me with a quizzical expression that says, "Huh?"
"Oh yea, let me do it." I hand the camera back to my dad and look up the aisle for the usher.
"Okay dad, take the picture!"

SNAP, great shot! almost immediately,
"Um excuse me, I warned you not to take any photos. . . will you please follow me to check in your camera?" Where did that guy come from? Did he drop down from the ceiling? He was smug! I didn't like his attitude.

"He didn't warn us," my brother mumbles in such a way that only I can hear, as he stands to go back to his seat. He motions that I should follow. Standing there looking at my family for support, they stare back at me with vacant expressions.

"Here, I will erase the picture," I flash him my camera showing the dark fuzzy picture was gone.

"Chu need to follow me. Come now." I look back at my brother who is now back to his seat. He is obviously civilly disobeying. Yea, it is easy for him, it isn't his camera. I look back at my family, still silent. I look at the lady behind us, her once supportive voice was now squelched by the vested soldier.

Should I chose to disobey the petite usher and exercise my rights? or should meekly follow? HMMMMM I could see myself being hauled out of the theater by the manager, with a "No show for YOU!" So humbly, I followed the usher, my head held high as I was escorted out of the theater. "I thought we couldn't take pictures with the flash," I lied, trying to excuse my defiance.

"There are signs all over warning you!" he says as he points to a sign on the wall. He was really hung up on that word "Warn!" ewwwww scarey! He didn't intimidate me with his rhetoric, Actually the sign is asking us and rather politely, I quote, "Please do not take pictures inside the theater." I think about telling him this and then decide against it.

"I was probably admiring the art deco interior when we passed that sign and didn't notice it," I said nonchalantly. He was unimpressed by my knowledge of the Pantages interior, or figured I didn't know what I was talking about, and continued steadfastly to his destination.

This guy must have been new. You can always tell the people that are new. They can't think for themselves. I just wanted a break, to return back to my seat, couldn't he pardon me? . . .No, not the new guy.

"I don't want to miss the first act, will this take a long time?"

"It won't take long," he says as he scurries through the empty lobby.

Once I get to the counter to fill out my claim slip, a man turns around to leave and says,"Oh they got you too huh!" I smile and nod yes as we both share a common understanding of the injustice of it all. After I fill out the slip to turn in my camera, I snap a picture of the guy at the counter, the one who is confiscating my camera, before I hand it over to him.

"Hey, can I get a picture of you? I want to show my dad, The Big Guy, who it was that took my camera." With a nervous smile, he claims he is the middle man, he isn't responsible. Um hummmm, your either for us or against us, I think as I take my yellow copy of the claim check and return to the theater.

As I walked down the aisle, back to my seat, I see the theater was lit by a about a hundred flashing digital camera LCD screens, and I think to myself, those vested ushers sure have their work cut out for them. My once felt irritation turned to a type of giddy empathy-this job for him is like the laundry, no matter how hard he works at it, it's never done--as I passed the petite usher I smiled.

If I Could I Would. . .

So I was cleaning my kitchen for the third time today. . .you know, the usual wiping the counters, the kitchen table, putting away clutter, rinsing and placing the dishes in the dishwasher and I thought, wouldn't it be amazingly awesome if I could close up my kitchen like I do my dishwasher, place a cup of cleaning agent in the door, push a few buttons and then come back in an hour or so after I've had lunch with my friends, to open the door to a sparkling clean and sanitized kitchen. Wouldn't that be wonderful? If I could I would. . .

If I could I would make every summer month July.
If I could I would erase my memory of all Seinfeld episodes so that I can experience them again for the first time. (Especially the one where Kramer finds the Merv Griffin set in the trash)
If I could I would bring back Bugs Bunny, Road Runner and Mr. Magoo cartoons.
If I could I would sing a solo in sacrament meeting. I would sing my heart out, if I could.
If I could I would abolish chain letter emails.
If I could I would live at the beach and swim at sunset every night.
If I could I would live in a different country for one month every year.
If I could I would cook like my sisters-in-law Linda, Claire and Adie.
If I could I would get a massage every day.
If I could I would look into my mom's eyes and tell her I love her.
If I could I would make bread bi-weekly. (Cindy will help me with that one.)
If I could I would cool off October and November in So CA.
If I could I would live near my best besty, blood sister, Alli.
If I could I would play the guitar right now.
If I could I would speak Spanish fluently.
If I could I would go back to the late 90s when apple stock was like $7 a share and buy it instead of the apple G3 computer we purchased.
If I could I would buy my dad a completely restored Model A and while I am at it. . .
If I could I would get my self a 1966 289 convertible mustang with pony interior.
If I could I would have a garden in which every plant produced a flower for my house or fruit for my kitchen.
If I could I would have fresh flowers, in every room, everyday.
If I could I would be really good at tennis so I could humble Allison. (Doesn't she look like she needs to be humbled?)
If I could I would paint portraits of each of my children with rich, vivid oils.
If I could, and I want to, I would celebrate every moment for the joy it brings and leave all the rest behind.

Santa Cruz Island

If I could I would be here tomorrow!

If you could, what would you do. . .
Don't leave me hangin' dream it, share it, have some fun.