2025 MFECOE Poster Contest

A few weeks ago we/I/my class learned about the poster contest hosted by the MFECOE's Office of Research and Graduate Education, which all graduate students were encouraged to participate in...but which apparently none of us knew about. Dr. Misha encouraged us to use some of our creative ethnography from class as a basis for our paper, so we started looking into it and even though the turnaround time for this project was lightning fast, we managed to pull something together. 

The graduate school will print our posters for us—for free!—which is pretty cool because when Andrew was at BYU and Duke we had to pay to print posters. They want four business days to print a poster, however, so you have to plan at least that far in advance. 

I needed to pick up the poster on Friday, which meant we had to turn it in by Tuesday of last week. That's one week exactly to the day from when we first heard about it! We planned to submit it by Monday, just to give us a cushion. So we met about things on the afternoon of Good Friday and I put the poster together over the weekend and submitted it to be printed last Monday, picked it up on Friday as planned. And then presented today.

Yellow Flamingos

Today I was reading Can You Dance Like a Peacock? with Phoebe and she got really excited about the flamingo page. 

"Can we get some flamingos at the store?" she asked. 

"I...don't know...that you can really get flamingos at the store...?" I said.

"You can!"

"Where?"

"Just at the store! They have them! But not usually pink flamingos."

"Yeah, see...I didn't think they had pink flamingos at the store."

"They have yellow flamingos. Can we get those?"

"Yellow flamingos?"

"Yes! I love them!"

Frog update

The kids and I were outside looking at the tadpoles, some of which are more like frogs than tadpoles now. We've determined that perhaps they aren't bullfrog tadpoles after all. A wood frog, perhaps. Something smaller than a bullfrog.

This little guy is developing some impressive jumpers:

Benjamin holding the froglet

Maypole

Me: It's math hour. And I need to finish writing a paper. You guys need to be focused on your work right now so I can focus on mine.

Also me: I wonder if we can fashion a maypole out of items we have in our house...

Math hour is still going. I would say "going strong" but that might be overly optimistic. 

But also we have a functional maypole! 

Easter Sunday

We had to be at church early last Sunday to rehearse for the Easter program, which went well. The primary children sang, and then the young women sang a piece Miriam selected and which they learned all on their own, and then the ward choir sang a few pieces as well. 

Miriam stayed to play the organ for the Spanish ward. Rachel stayed to drive her.

Then when she got home we had to leave for Grandpa and Darla's for Easter dinner, which was lovely. But we didn't get home until it was nearing bedtime. And the Easter Bunny had not stopped by yet.

Our children were incredibly patient about this. They hardly asked when or whether the Easter Bunny was going to come. Benjamin and Zoë did drop some hints about their expectations, like, "Gee...if we took the little kids down to the basement to play for an hour do you think the Easter Bunny might how up thing?" But they were very mature when I turned down their "offer," reminding them that their older sisters weren't at home and the Easter Bunny probably wouldn't drop by when it thought it might get caught by children coming home. 

Anyway, Rachel was in charge of dessert for Easter dinner and she needed to put some frosting on the carrot cake after she got home from church (which took her forever...wink, wink), but the kids were already getting anxious to leave for Grandpa and Darla's, so we told them to each grab a book and head out to get buckled in the van. They did. And then they waited while Rachel first iced one cake, which Andrew brought out to the van, grumbling about how long Rachel was taking in the kitchen. And then Rachel got the other cake ready (she'd also made a lemon-glazed vanilla dessert). And then we finally, finally got in the car to head to Grandpa and Darla's. 

We ate, we visited, we played some catching games in the backyard...and then we headed home and...the kids were so surprised to find that the Easter Bunny had come! Phoebe thought it was magical while Benjamin, Zoë, and Alexander were perplexed about how we managed to pull off a surprise like this. 

I am not a very surprising person, it seems, so this was a smashing success.

Georgia Botanical Gardens

I had to go to campus again today on a two-fold mission: (1) to attend the awards luncheon for my program (I didn't win anything this year...but they wanted people to come support those that did), and (2) to pick up the poster I had printed for a conference on Tuesday. 

The awards luncheon was at the Botanical Gardens and...wow!

I mean, we've seen the signs but we just...never knew. It's like Duke Gardens...but better somehow? Except that it's not connected to campus directly so it's a little less accessible. But it's pretty awesome. 

They have beautiful plants...

Turns out...

Yesterday Phoebe wanted to go to the park, but it was too wet for that. In the afternoon when we went for a walk, however, there was a beautiful rainbow in the sky. 

"It's a rainbow for real life," Phoebe told us.

Phoebe and Alexander on campus!

One of my earliest memories—or perhaps one of my earliest memory of a memory—is attending a horticulture class at BYU with my mom. 

What I remember remembering is that I was sitting under a desk eating Froot Loops from a little cup. The classroom was dark, except for a screen at the front, which was showing slide projections of various plants. 

That's it. That's the memory. 

After verifying this memory with my mom, I learned that I would have been about two years old when that memory occurred. The teacher of the class was Dr. St. Clair (who I would later work for in the Integrative Biology (or "InBio" as it was then called) department shortly after Andrew and I got married). 

I wonder why that memory stuck with me so firmly through all the many years that it did—and the feeling of the memory as well...just of...feeling content and safe. 

And I wonder what memories my children will take with them moving forward. 

Will Phoebe remember getting to come to campus with me today? She was terribly excited to get to come...only to be required to be still and quiet. She played with her felt boards and drew on her drawing pad quite happily through most of the poetry readings.

2025 Easter Egg Smackdown

Eggs. Boy, I dunno...

They're about $6 per dozen right now. We boiled 25 eggs for Easter this year, so it cost us about $12 for an afternoon of family fun—and that included dinner! Not too bad. 

Do I wish eggs were cheaper? Certainly. 

But I also think there are bigger fish frying here and that in spite of—*waves hands vaguely*—all this it's good to be together, it's good to enjoy each other. I got to read some of Delores Williams' Sisters in the Wilderness over the Easter weekend and particularly enjoyed this passage: "the text [scriptures] suggest that the spirit of God in Jesus came to show humans life—to show redemption through a perfect ministerial vision of righting relations between body (individual and community), mind (of humans and of tradition) and spirit" (p. 146). 

Righting relations. What a beautiful summary of everything the Saviour asks us to do—to love others, to mourn with those that mourn, to find what was lost, to just...go about doing good...to make things right. That's it. That's the message.

I'm not sure where to go between this point and the next, so before I tell you the first (and perhaps only) miracle of our 2025 Easter Egg Smackdown, I'll tell you that this week was Easter Sunday, so we only had one hour of church. Last week was our ward conference (and the week before that was General Conference), and two weeks before that was the week Benjamin spoke in church. 

Anyway, a major highlight of his day last week—during ward conference—was that the bishop quoted him in the middle of his talk. Bishop Dallin said, "As Benjamin Heiss advised us all a few weeks ago—do what you can do!"

That also happened to be the message of Andrew's underwear talk during FHE this evening. 

But I digress...so now I suppose I can tell you the miracle of the 2025 Easter Egg Smackdown: not a single egg was cracked during the egg dying process. No one dropped one or accidentally put all their weight on one or knocked one off the table or anything. We usually lose quite a few in the process of dying...but I guess the kids are growing up or something and now they all (mostly) know how to treat eggs with care (that is, we are no longer quite as outnumbered by chaos-makers as we once were).

Everyone got three eggs to decorate (with one egg designated the emergency back up egg...which we didn't even need).

Phoebe Narrates the Easter Egg Hunt

"Take, take, take, take, take!" she said as she gathered the shiny plastic eggs (that were expertly hidden by the young women earlier that morning).

Good Friday

Phoebe and Zoë wore matching dresses for tonight's Good Friday concert. They're dresses that Darla's girls used to wear when they were younger.

Benjamin On Campus

After all the chaos that was today (though we're not even finished yet because the reason I went to the dentist was to have my attachments be put back on my teeth—they've been off the last couple of weeks because I had a tooth that wasn't tracking so I had to get new trays fitted to try to get that tooth to move...but two of my new attachments have popped off and I'm a little sad about it because it means I'll have to go back in again), Rachel, Benjamin, and I were finally able to leave for campus. 

Murder on the Orient Express was playing at UGA, we knew...because we saw it being advertised when we were looking for shows Rachel could go to for her class. We went to John Proctor is the Villain and Rachel really wanted to go to Murder on the Orient Express as well, but since it's just playing now and her semester is over...it wouldn't really work for her class. So she and Miriam and I went to The Addam's Family at a local high school. It was decent...

But then one of my classes hosted an outing to Murder on the Orient Express this evening so I thought I should go. And Rachel would go as well. And then I decided Benjamin should come along as well. 

At first, the outing was going to cover the cost of my ticket. But then I was told we'd have enough to cover Rachel, too, and I then thought for sure that I'd have to buy Benjamin's ticket...but no! They had enough tickets for him as well, so we sure lucked out there! 

We went to campus before rush hour traffic and had enough time to go on a little hike near campus along the Oconee River that Rachel and I have been wanting to try. We'd walked as far as the graveyard before, but pressed on until we came to these rapids by Easley Mill Dam—that was a treat to come upon:

"I really wanted to hit a widow with a baseball bat"

I realized that I completely missed out on making a joke about spring break! Because last week is technically when we took our spring break (though we're also almost through all of our curriculum so we're on, like, "school lite" right now...plus it's, like, the crunch time of my semester, so...). We had such a good spring break our spring broke!

Apparently that's an important bit, but it's all together again!

Surprise...surprise!

"You're going to want to sit down for this..." the plumber said on the phone to Andrew last night. 

Our water heater had stopped working. The plumber asked what year our water heater was installed. 

"2005..." Andrew said, and that's when he was told to sit down. 

Evidently the life of a water heater is not typically so long. The recommendation: a new water heater. 

Of course. 

So the plumber came this morning and he was like, "Wow! I haven't seen you guys in a long time!"

And I was like, "Thank goodness for that!"

It's been about two years since our last plumbing emergency. Our plumber laughed and said, "Yes—plumbers, dentists, lawyers...all people you never really want to see!"

So, as of today we have a brand new water heater. It's smaller than our old one (which was massive—75 gallons), but is function (which is helpful for running a household of this size). The price tag was a bit of a yikes (which is why we downsized) but, you know, we were living on borrowed time with that thing, I guess. 

These surprising and costly fixes are...getting a little less surprising as time wears on. 

Just Mommy and Me

We went to the library, just Mommy and me. 

"Yay! No kids!" Phoebe cheered.

That meant she got to feed every book to the hippo and choose every book from the shelf. 

FHE

Phoebe is our default FHE conductor. She just assumes that giving everyone the agenda for the evening is her responsibility...and she loves it. 

"Welpum to faminy night!" she'll announce. "I'm going to choose the song..."

Of course she's going to choose the song (like there's any other option).

"...and Mommy is going to say the prayer. I choose...Once There Was a Snowman!"

She used to always choose How Much is That Doggy in the Window, but we told her it had to be a primary song. Technically, Once There Was a Snowman is a primary song. It's just not a very reverent one.

So we sang that song while she twirled around in circles, shaking her little egg shaker, and having the time of her life. When it was time to get ready for prayer, she ran over to kneel by Daddy. 

She's so glad he's home!

Lavender/Lilac

Phoebe wanted to make soup for dinner, using some rosemary she picked in the garden. She even got out a pot and put it on the stove with the rosemary in it, but I got out a bigger pot and started dinner in that. We had a head of cauliflower that we hadn't gotten to yet, so I decided on cauliflower soup and even found a recipe for rosemary cauliflower soup...which I loosely followed.

We decided on a whim to add some red cabbage to the soup. Quite a lot, actually. Because one head of cauliflower isn't going to feed a family of seven and we had some red cabbage in the fridge. 

Plus, it was bound to turn the soup a delightful pinkish-purple, which felt very springy, very Easter-y. 

Phoebe was very pleased with the light purple we ended up with after everything was blended together. But then I decided that it could use a little more acidity. So I grabbed a lemon and squeezed it into the pot and...

While the cat's away...

Last Saturday Phoebe asked me when Daddy was going to be home and I wasn't quite sure, so I texted him to ask, and in response he Facetimed so he could speak with Phoebe. 

She was sitting on the potty—her question to me had been some potty-time chatter—but she's pretty open about her bathroom habits, even demanding sometimes that people (specifically Andrew or I) watch her while she's in the bathroom. Thus the reason I was sitting and chatting with her in the first place. So I figured she'd be okay talking to Daddy while sitting on the potty.

She seemed happy to see him but was very pithy about things—giving him yes or no answers only. 

Book of Mormon Read-athon

When I was in Young Women, our YW president was amazing. I still hang on her every word...and can...even have thousands of miles between us and have gone decades without seeing each other...because she's a wonderful author.

One of her most recent books—Buffalo Flats—spoke to my very inner being, brought me back to my roots, and was simply the most beautiful embrace of a book. 

I've been thinking about her a lot lately because when I was in YW she planned a Book of Mormon Read-athon. My memory is getting less reliable these days, in a way I never thought it would. I seem to have too many thoughts knocking around inside my brain to keep them all straight, but here is what I remember:

We began after school, probably on a Friday. 

Was I homeschooled then? Or was I attending the high school? I honestly can't remember what year we held the read-athon. But I do remember that I walked to the church from the dentist office, where I'd just gotten a cavity filled. My mouth was numb for the first little while, but that was fine.

We started out doing a pop quiz on the first few chapters, since everyone has read "I, Nephi..." a billion times. I remember there was a question about Sam and whether he was Nephi's older or younger brother and...I was one of the few who got that question correct. 

I remember that we were often in the primary room. We had a line of tables set up and a number of readers would come up to the tables to sit; they would each read one paragraph and then relinquish their seat to someone else. 

We accomplished a lot of our reading that way.

Somehow—magically—food would appear for us to eat in the gym. I'm sure there was an entire army of volunteers I was unaware of. I have no idea what we ate, only that we did. 

Sometimes we were broken into groups to read sections of the Book of Mormon. At one point we had to make a skit to present to everyone else about a chapter or two. 

I don't really know what happened on Friday versus Saturday. But at some point—late in the evening, probably 10:00 or so—we went home to sleep. 

In the morning people came around to pick everyone up—carpools had been organized to get us all to the church. My friend's dad dressed up like a gorilla and was "kidnapping" kids from their houses. 

We read and read and read. And discussed. And ate. All day Saturday.

And at the end we had read the Book of Mormon. 

It was exhausting. And long. And at times difficult. 

But it was also beautiful and uniting and good. 

I'm positive it was a lot of work...because we're hosting a Book of Mormon read-athon at our house right now. 

Sitting in the hallway

On Tuesday I didn't see Phoebe at all. 

She was a stinker on Monday night and had a rough time falling asleep and staying asleep. And then she insisted that Andrew stay in her hall while she worked to fall asleep at 2:00 in the morning, even though he had a plane to catch on Tuesday morning. I tried to convince him to just let her suffer through me sitting in the hallway, but he felt bad doing that because...well...it makes her angry to have me in the hallway.

"Mommy and I are just going to say our prayers and then one of us will come back to sit in the hallway for a little while," he reassured her. 

"One of you...but not Mommy..." she said. 

"Well," he hedged. "I have an early flight in the morning so..."

"Please not Mommy!" she begged. "It makes me angry to have Mommy in the hallway! I just want you!"

So he caved and sat in the hallway while she fell asleep. 

Then he woke up early and left for the airport. 

Rachel milestones

Rachel submitted her last paper for her last BYU-Idaho class (and thus her last class for high school graduation) on Wednesday morning. That means she's now officially a high school graduate!

On Tuesday morning Andrew flew to Utah for a week-long workshop at Utah State University. He took along a suitcase of stuff Rachel will need when she moves out there...including this temperature blanket that she finally finished. She started it in 2023, and I believe she finished it in January of this year, so it took her about two years to finish. It's long!

They were in my drawer!

Years ago—I can't find the post right now, though I know it exists, Rachel walked into the house after school loudly complaining that her pants were uncomfortable.

I looked at her and gasped because she was very clearly wearing Miriam's pants. 

This is less of a big deal now that they're about the same size of people. But back then (when Miriam was a teeny preschooler and Rachel was already in school) they were sized considerably differently. 

"Now wonder!" I said. "Those are Miriam's pants!"

"Well, they were in my drawer!" Rachel retorted. 

And that line...is one that frequently pops up at our house. Most recently it popped up last weekend when Benjamin got dressed to go for a walk between conference sessions. 

"Man," he said. "My 6T pants are finally getting too small for me! These things are so tight!"

"6T?" I said. "Those can't be yours! 6T is much closer to Alexander's size than..."

"But they were in my drawer!" Benjamin protested.

"And who puts your laundry away?" I asked. 

"Good point."

Clearly a pair of Alexander's pants had gotten mixed in with Benjamin's pants at some point. Benjamin swears he's been wearing them regularly...but I disagree. I think the reason they were "suddenly" much too small is because they've been too small for years and have belonged to his little brother for a while now. 

Rachel points out that Benjamin's confusion over pants is "much worse" than her confusion over Miriam's pants because (1) Benjamin is five years older than Alexander and she is only two years older than Miriam, and (2) her mistake happened when she was in the early years of elementary school...not the end of middle school. 

A morning at the playground

As I mentioned, we spent the morning at the park. Did it rain last night and I just missed it? The weather history says no...so perhaps they just sprayed the pavilion? Whatever the case, Phoebe enjoyed splashing in these puddles while her siblings completed their morning work.

Early literacy

On Wednesday while the boys were in their co-op classes (Zoë didn't come with us because she needed to go to piano lessons and Andrew wasn't here so Rachel had to drive Zoë in when she took Miriam), Phoebe decided she wanted to learn how to write her name. 

Here is one of her attempts from Wednesday:

J'ai voté!

I'll admit I was a little worried when I didn't get a confirmation email...

I got one email from Elections Canada saying:

Your application to vote by mail has been received.

An Elections Canada representative will contact you if your application is incomplete or cannot be approved.

If your application is approved, you will receive a confirmation email and a special ballot voting kit will be sent to the mailing address provided on your application. 

I didn't get a second email. But today when I opened up the mailbox, my ballot was there! 

We're here to burgle your turts!

Phoebe slept in her own bed—and stayed dry!—until 6:00 or so. I helped her go potty and then we climbed back into bed for some morning snuggles and ended up falling back to sleep. She woke up hankering for a trip to the park.

I had a meeting in the early afternoon, but we decided we could do our writing time at the park and our math when we go home (we've finished with our science curriculum for the year and the kids have been working on reports for social studies). So we got up and started getting ready to go right away.

We had fun at the park, and I'm sure the kids would like me to share pictures of the cool stuff they did (and I will) but this post is about the turtle-y awesome walk we went on just before we came home. We decided to just take our ordinary stroll around the pond to see how spring is coming on (very nicely, if I do say so myself). 

Suddenly Zoë screeched, "Is that a turtle?!"

"Is what a turtle?" I asked. 

"That!" she said, pointing to the sidewalk. "I thought it was a rock...but it just moved..."

Potty training progress...and things

There are days when I literally don't care that Phoebe wears a pull-up to bed. And there are also days where I do care because I honestly never had a child in pull-ups before. For the most part they potty-trained over night quite easily. Benjamin was reluctant...but he managed. And he wasn't angry about it.

Phoebe is reluctant. And angry. 

Like, having to get up to go potty in the night just makes her so mad. 

Andrew usually wakes her up to take her potty because she tolerates him at night. When I weaned Phoebe some switch in her brain went off and she just finds my very existence to be beyond annoying at night. I think she was a little bitter about weaning (it's been eleven months now!) and she just was kind of like, "Well, what good are you to me now?!!?!" 

So Andrew has been waking her up to go potty at night. 

This has been our method for the rest of the kids, except for Alexander who I just said, "Okay, no more diapers." And he was like, "On my honour..." and literally never wet the bed (except for one time when he was five). But the other kids we just would put them to bed, and then wake them up consistently for several nights. And then they'd typically start waking up on their own to use the potty and then we could stop waking them up to use the potty and pretty soon...presto!

Phoebe...is taking a while. Her sticker chart is full because she can stay dry. She even has stayed dry for five consecutive days (at which point I thought, "Phew! We did it!" but at which point she thought, "Cool. Did that. No need to do it ever again."). 

So she's off again, on again. 

Eatonton and things

On Saturday we headed out to Eatonton to visit the Georgia Writers Museum as well as the Uncle Remus Museum. The Georgia Writers Museum was right downtown, across the street from the Putnam County Court House (or the Pvutnam Covnty Covrt Hovse, as the children liked to say).

Here's Phoebe and Alexander with a little statue of children reading outside of the museum:

 

Too much water for Phoebe

This is just a preamble while I gather my thoughts on our day. It's been a long time since we've gone on a family adventure! Rachel wasn't sure it was wise to join us because she had a few assignments to finish before this evening, but we convinced her that she could work on things in the car—she even got to ride in the front seat so that she wouldn't be bugged by her siblings. She finished with plenty of time to spare. 

On living in a somewhat geriatric neighbourhood

When Miss Penny died (about two years ago now), I wrote a poem—an abecedarian. It's doubtless that it will ever be published anywhere but here, but I thought it should be published somewhere...so here's good!

So far it's untitled:

An awkward sight in the afterglow of day, she stood,
bathrobe open, slippers on, spreading birdseed on the
cement for wild city creatures: bunnies, chipmunks,
deer. She doted on them and they came to trust her,
expecting an evening feed. Thus engaged when we
first saw her, she gave a friendly wave, guffawed:
“Guess I’m Snow White, all grown up!” Ever after
her house became known as “Snow White’s House”
in the juvenile collective imagination. In general, her
job—neighbourhood invigilator—just meant watching
kids play, gathering gossip, keeping an eye out for
languishing souls. “Hullo, there!” she’d holler, loudly.
Make no mistake—if you were melancholy she meant
nobody but you. “Now, why don’t you make your way up
onto my porch?” She’d offer stories meant only for your
pretty little ears, help you practice observing in order to
quiet your mind. Quite the lady, Penny was. I don’t
recall registering her absence until I saw the sign: “Estate
Sale.” A childless spinster school teacher, retired and
tired of everything but sitting in her rocker, watching the
universe unfold between the balustrade posts, it was not
very obvious when she vanished. Not too long ago we
waved to her while out on a walk. Then warmth gave way to
extreme cold (a poor excuse), we stayed away, and she said
yes to the past tense, to turning into yesterday, leaving the
zoo on her front lawn wondering where she got off to.

*****

A few Sundays ago, a clay creature Zoë and her friend had made broke. We'd already had dinner and the sun was rapidly sinking, but Zoë wanted to run up to her friend's house to hold a funeral service for their little clay creature. I told her to run along (remember how whenever I'm in charge of bedtime, we're always late getting things done? Yeah...it's a real problem for me).

She came back much sooner than expected. While they had buried their broken creation and held a brief service for it, their mourning was cut short by the arrival of an ambulance. They stood in shock as they watched Miss Anne be wheeled out of her house on a gurney.

"And I don't know if she's a live or dead!" Zoë panted, trying to recover from her sprint home in darkness punctuated by flashing red lights. 

Phoebe-Q

Phoebe found some lip gloss this morning, and having liberally applied it (+/-) to her lips declared herself "boo-i-ful." 

She insisted on wearing two skirts to the library.

I warned her that it might be a little chilly for a skirt, but she insisted she'd be fine. We came home and took Luna for a walk and when we came home Phoebe decided she'd rather wear pants—it was a little chilly with bare legs. So she went upstairs to get some pants.

I watched her awkwardly waddled down the stairs, but couldn't quite put my finger on what was wrong with her.

"I think something's wrong with your pants," I said. "Let me see..."

The issue she was having is that she was wearing not one, not two...or three...or even four pairs of pants. She had put on five pairs of pants. 

Jump start

On Wednesday last week, Rachel drove the kids to mutual and everything went fine. But when they got in the car to come home...it wouldn't start. So Andrew drove down to the church to rescue them. Fortunately it was a battery thing, so he gave them a jump and Rachel was able to drive home just fine.

And she went to seminary the next day. And the next. And then on Friday she drove to Athens and home again. And on Saturday she drove to Andie's house (to get a ride to a dance). And then drove home from Andie's house after the dance.

And then drove to seminary on Tuesday. 

And every time she turned on the car, it started a bit rough. It was just a little...hesitant to actually start...which was concerning. But we had a plan in place to fix it...but not until Wednesday. 

We just had to get to campus on Tuesday first...

So on Tuesday after Rachel got home from seminary, we hopped in the car, which choked to life, and started on our way to campus. 

We had to stop to fill up on gas, choosing a different gas station than we ordinarily do because...

Two little peas

This morning while Benjamin, Zoë and I were discussing the book we'd just finished reading together (The Red Pencil) and how they might engage with it further (analyzing specific characters or events, brainstorming about alternative titles/covers/endings, and so forth), Alexander and Phoebe were working on a Scratch project together.

Really Alexander was working on a Scratch project, and Phoebe was nestled up beside him, leaning on his shoulder like they're best buds (and they are).

They're so sweet together.

Woke up this morning feeling...enfranchised!

Thing I learned!

In 2019, Canada changed its voting rules for citizens living abroad. It used to be that if you had lived outside of the country for five years or longer you were ineligible to vote. But that is no longer the case. 

Now you can register to vote if you have lived in Canada at any point in your life, regardless of how long you've lived outside of Canada. 

Somehow or other Trudeau was prime minister for ten years, which means this law came into being during his term (terms aren't fixed, but are at the pleasure of His Majesty (King Charles)...and, technically, I would say the people as well, because a vote of no confidence can be called quite easily compared to just having to sit around for four years...or more...). I didn't vote for Trudeau in 2015 (could not have voted for him—believe me...I checked), so I was surprised when I checked the voting laws again today (just to make sure—because you never known when you'll wake up to find yourself enfranchised...) and found that I could vote in the upcoming election.

Did I register to vote today?

Absolutely I did.

Did I tell my Canadian-abroad family members to register to vote as well?

Absolutely I did.

I am awaiting my ballot, brimming with excitement.

Benjamin talks (and talks and talks) in church

Benjamin spoke in sacrament meeting for the first time today. 

He began writing his talk a few weeks ago...as a punishment. I'll share the story because he quite openly shared it with my mom this evening. Honestly, I had entirely forgotten what I'd been punishing him for—only that I had been quite livid about whatever it was and the punishment was to go to his room and...think about his upcoming talk. When he said why, I was like, "Oh, yeah!!"

Here's the scoop:

A few weeks ago, Benjamin, Alexander, and Reed had been playing in the backyard, but for whatever reason suddenly decided the backyard was "mid" and they were going to find something else to do. They were walking into the front yard and Benjamin spotted our new see-saw and started running toward it. 

In his mind, he had the idea that he and Reed could spin around and have a mighty fine time together. 

He snagged the first seat and, of course, landed with a plop on the ground, leaving the other seat up high in the air. 

Alexander saw this and figured he could take the other seat, so he took a great running start across the yard before hurling his seven-year-old body up into the air, grabbing onto that seat, and hoisting himself up so that he could see-saw with Benjamin.

Benjamin was upset by this because he had planned on see-sawing with Reed, not Alexander. 

So he stood up and let Alexander fall to the ground very rapidly—THUD!

And then...

AND THEN...jumped up into the air...and slammed back down on his own seat.

THUD went Benjamin into the ground.

POOF went Alexander flying into the air.

Garage Fridges, Grandma Dresses, and Dandelion Puffs

After being away from my kids all day on Friday, I didn't really want to leave them to go to the Relief Society "Super Saturday" but I went anyway (mostly because Miriam and Rachel wanted to go, but also because I could get rid of that tied fleece blanket you see in the corner behind Alexander and Phoebe, which I meant to donate in, like, November). 

When I left, Alexander was busy reading Fancy Nancy with Phoebe:

One to three years!?!?!

A few weeks ago, Benjamin came home with a trio of bullfrog tadpoles...and a teeny little salamander that he didn't mean to catch but accidentally scooped up with the tadpoles (and which we'll return to the wild once we can catch it...because while frogs are fine to keep, salamanders aren't...it keeps getting away from us though).

He asked if he could keep the tadpoles. 

Why not? They'll grow legs and hop off in the next few weeks and that'll be that. Right?

Riiiiight?

These tadpoles, however, are showing no sign of development. At all. 

No facial developments. No little leg nubs. Nothing. 

Male Researchers

Uncle Patrick messaged me to say that he had a couple of t-shirts to send back to the States with Josie (who is in Austria visiting him for a while). They're too small for him, but he figured my boys could grow into them—they say "Male Researcher" on the back.

"Hey, I could wear a shirt like that," Rachel mused. "Not because I'm a male researcher, but because I'm researching males."

I told her that she could wear it while presenting Uncle Patrick's slides: "Non-Invasive Dating Techniques" from a male researcher.

I also sent her little quip along in the family group chat. Uncle Allen was particularly taken aback by her remark and told my sister to tell me to tell Rachel that that remark was a little racy for Rachel to be saying and that she's far too young to be researching males. 

Rachel retorted that it was all in the name of science.

Uncle Allen was rendered speechless (to make him feel better, although Rachel is at a dance right now, she never actually been on a date—her dating pool is rather shallow out here).

Uncle Patrick wondered whether the freshmen males at BYU would survive her sarcastic wit. 

Time will tell.

All the conferences

Today my brother Patrick sent a picture of himself presenting at a conference in Dresden (I'm pretty sure). His paper title is hilarious: Non-invasive Dating: A New Methodology.

It's about how to date paper not people, but it always takes people a minute to get there.

Wardrobe issues

"Can somebody help me?" Phoebe wailed from upstairs. "I'm stuck! Help! Help! Somebody! Please!"

I stopped what I was doing (loading another load of unending laundry into the washing machine) and ran up to help her. And where did I find her? 

Standing at the top of the stairs and absolutely distraught that she'd managed to put her sweater on backwards. Putting a sweater on is one tricky bit of business, but taking a sweater off? That is a herculean task. T-shirts are manageable. Sweaters are impossible—the sleeves go on forever! How does one even get their arms out of them?!

St. Patrick's Day

I neglected to get a picture of everyone wearing their green on St. Patrick's Day, but we were all sure to put on green first thing in the morning. St. Patrick's Day pinchers were out in full force that day!

It was pretty funny, though, because we kept forgetting why everyone was wearing green. At the dinner table Rachel remarked, "Hey! We're all wearing green today...oh."

Here's Zoë wearing a lovely green mustache:

Auntie K sent a bunch of St. Patrick's Day things years ago and we just get them out every year and enjoy them. I even brought our stash of headbands and hats to primary and had the primary kids wear them while singing wiggle songs.

IPM: Interactive Prayer Model

On Saturday night (when we remembered to gather the entire family for scriptures and prayer), Rachel said the prayer.

She asked that we could be kept safe through the storm and Phoebe, who has been a fan of interactive prayer models (rather than sitting still and listening, and then saying "amen") jumped up and, expressively tracing jagged thunderbolts in the air with her arms, said, "YEAH! TEEP US SAFE FROM AAAAAAAALL THE HURTATOES!"

It was rather funny. 

This time she apparently was making an agglomeration of hurricane + tornado + potatoes, as far as I can figure (last time it was hurricane + tornado + volcanoes). 

*****

At least we know he isn't littering...

I created a temporary art installation on my living room floor yesterday afternoon when I so bravely folded the load of laundry Alexander so proudly threw into the wash all by himself. I called it: "Why Do Little Boys Even Have Pockets?"

I think every pocket on every pair of pants he wore was crinkly—stuffed full of wrappers. I had a whole pile of trash by the time I finished: fruit snacks wrappers, granola bar wrappers, fig bar wrappers, fruit-by-the-foot, beef jerky wrappers, cheese stick wrappers...

And one non-crinkly tissue.

Miri-who?

Rachel, Miriam, and I took Phoebe on a walk this afternoon and she fell asleep in the stroller, which she hasn't done in a long time, and then she stayed snoozing in the garage for quite some time after we got home. 

The neighbourhood kids were all playing and Phoebe slept right on through their happy sounds. 

Then the neighbourhood kids decided they needed a wagon and moved a bunch of bikes to access the wagon and a shovel fell off the wall and bonked Benjamin on the head before clattering to the floor and a yelling match erupted between Benjamin, who felt a little sore about things (in about ten different ways), and Zoë, who Benjamin blamed for having been the last person to hang up a shovel on the rack.

We heard the clattering and the hollering from inside the house (I went out to check on heads and to inform the kids that Phoebe was napping in the garage where they were currently having a full blown fight and knocking bikes over and stuff). 

Phoebe magically slept right on through that noise, too.

So...we're not sure what's up with her. Probably best that she stayed home from church. 

Rachel's talk and Phoebe's...day

Here's a picture of Rachel writing her talk late last night, while sitting at my feet. I was switching back and forth between an article I was reading and her talk whenever she wanted feedback. The bedroom window was wide open and we were listening to the thunder rage and the wind howl (until the rain started).

How "kids these days" can type an entire paper on their little phones is beyond me. I like my keyboard too much to attempt that. But here she is...typing up a 5-minute speech on her phone.

Blood worm moon

Miriam decided to stay up until the lunar eclipse. She was in good company—Andrew and I are usually up until around 2:00 working, anyway. She cleaned the kitchen, did her math lessons, and who knows what else (worked on driver's ed, perhaps). 

Benjamin woke up around 1:30 coughing and sneezing. 

Allergy season is upon us...but I also think the kids may have picked up a cold. 

When Phoebe woke up at 2:00 and wandered down to Andrew's office to say hello (she doesn't usually get to see him on Thursdays, but was already awake when he left for campus around 6:00 this morning), we decided we may as well wake everyone else up as well.

It's not every day we get to interrupt the conversation between the sun and the moon, after all!

Naturally all the pictures I took of the moon with my phone were terrible quality. So we will leave that sort of documentation to the professionals. 

Tired Phoebe

Phoebe loves her little chalkboards. She loves drawing on them. She loves erasing her drawings. She loves wiping them down with a wet cloth to get all the old chalk dust away. She (recently) loves sneaking into Daddy's office to retrieve his little air-blower keyboard-cleaning thing to dry her chalkboards off faster (she's only recently overcome her fear of that noise). 

Here she is drawing our family (are her pants on inside out? Yes. Is she still wearing her pyjama top because she gave up trying to change out of it? Maybe so. But she's still adorable):

Hurtanoes: There's a storm comin'

We're gearing up for a big storm to roll in this weekend. 

I'm not seeing any official weather alerts about it, but the meteorologists all seem pretty excited about it and the university sent out a weather alert. 

Yesterday I asked the kids to clean up the basement so that we could hunker down if we needed to (and also, and perhaps mostly, because I also wanted the basement to get cleaned up) and they've been in storm-prep mode ever since. 

*****

This morning Phoebe got up earlier than I wanted to be awake (in my defense I was up late working on a conference proposal), so I helped her with a few things and then told her I was going to go back to bed for a little while.

"That's okay!" she said. "I've got Alexei! Hey, Alexei—wanna talk about hurtanoes some more?"

They've been talking about "hurtanoes" all day—some wild mashup (portmanteau) of "hurricane" and "volcano" and "tornado," I think. Alexander knows the difference between those things. Phoebe has no idea what she's talking about.

Between those two, though, it seems we'll be in pretty good shape down in the basement. They've set out flashlights and pillows and blankets and little pop-up tents for sleepover fun. The storage room already has food and water. And there's plenty of entertainment down there as well (books and games and LEGO and things). 

They've made it look like so much fun that they want to sleep down there tonight, even though the storm won't blow in until Saturday!

The Rachels

I caught Phoebe with a green candy cane she's been coveting since December. It belong[ed] to Miriam, who hadn't eaten it on account of her braces—she's a rule-follower for sure!

"How'd you get that?" I asked Phoebe. 

"Uhhh...I can reach stuff," she informed me (as if I didn't know). 

"Okay," I said. "But, like, who gave you permission to have it?"

"Rachel did," she said confidently. 

Rachel, who was sitting at the table eating lunch, gawked at Phoebe.

"I did not!" Rachel said.

"Not you," Phoebe said calmly. "The other Rachel—Miriam."

And that about sums up how Phoebe has categorized her older sisters: Rachel is synonymous with "grown-up sister." 

Grown-up sisters can do things like use the oven and drive cars and babysit and go to parties and dances past bedtime. They're as tall as all the other grown-ups around. And mom never asks them if they've brushed their teeth. 

There are two grown-up sisters Rachels in this house: Rachel-proper and Rachel-Miriam. 

(And, yes, Miriam did give Phoebe permission to consume her verboten candy cane. I checked.)

His Eye is On the Sparrow

One of the new (to us) hymns recently added to the hymnbook is His Eye Is On The Sparrow. We sang it today and evidently Phoebe rather enjoyed it. 

While she was sitting on the potty before getting ready for bed she started singing the chorus. 

"I sing because I'm happy! I sing because I..." she paused thinking about what the next word might be.

"DO!" she decided (the real words are "I sing because I'm happy! I sing because I'm free!"). 

She sang it that way for the next few minutes: "I sing because I'm happy! I sing because I do!"

Spring Formal

Today was the spring formal (aka or at least formally known as "Mormon Prom"). Last year the spring formal was in April, so we're a bit early this year. 

Last year only Rachel was able to go and she wore her flower girl dress from Grandpa and Darla's wedding. Rachel also got to go to homecoming this year (and I took several pictures of her in the new dress she picked out). But this was Miriam's first "formal" dance and she decided to wear a dress my mom bought her freshman year at BYU when she went to preference and she got dressed before Rachel did, which meant we were able to take some pictures outside in decent lighting. So I took several pictures of Miriam in her dress:

Dinner on Thursday

Last night we made Hawaiian Haystacks for dinner, something we haven't eaten (I think) since very soon after Karen's death in 2018, when someone in our ward brought it over for dinner. 

I wasn't really sure what to make for dinner...except that we had a fresh pineapple to use...and time was ticking so I decided to just start a pot of rice cooking and then brainstorm about what to have with the rice while it was cooking.

My three ideas were:

1. Something Mexican (we have leftover taco meat in the fridge)
2. Stir fry of sorts
3. Hawaiian Haystacks

I settled on Hawaiian Haystacks because (a) we hadn't had that in so many years that the kids couldn't even recall what it was and (b) we'd had "Ultimate Salad Bar" earlier in the week and had a lot of leftover toppings that also qualify as Hawaiian Haystacks toppings. 

All I had to do was make some chicken gravy and cut up a pineapple...and a bunch of vegetables. 

Often the gravy is made from a can of cream of chicken soup, but we don't usually have that stocked in our pantry, so I had made it from scratch, which really is not so difficult except that Phoebe wanted to help. She pulled out every single stool in our house and set them all up in the kitchen, forming an obstacle course of sorts (but allowing her to reach any given counter surface...as well as leaving a few in the middle of the kitchen floor to trip over). Then she demanded that she help and help and help.

"Phoebe," I sighed, wish that Andrew was home to be cooking with her instead of...me...having to do it. "I am not as confident about cooking as Daddy is, so I'm not as confident about allowing you to help. This is a step that Mommy has to do on her own, okay? You can have a turn stirring soon..."

So I browned the onions and I blended the water and flour and I made the base of the gravy and then I added the milk, whisked things together briefly, and handed Phoebe the whisk. 

"Finally!" she growl exasperatedly. "I tan tuut!"

Head on a swivel

This morning the kids went through their independent work independently (hallelujah—because it doesn't happy all the time) and then we went to co-op. 

Phoebe still doesn't like to go to her class so she hangs out with me, and that's fine. I popped a snack into my bag just as we were leaving the house because I knew Phoebe would ask for one and—after playing with play dough and magnets—she did ask for a snack. 

I opened her snack and set it on the little table in the classroom, where Phoebe happily stood and ate. Then the air system clicked on and Phoebe panicked. My children (and I) tend to be a little...sensitive...to noises. Phoebe wanted to locate the source of the whooshing and when she found it she panicked, snatched her cookies off the table, and backed away, saying, "That's not safe. Not safe at all!"

Waking the moon

I'm 10+ years late to the party, but I'm finally getting around to reading The Red Pencil (aloud with the kids) and I am so hung up on these moon rituals mentioned at the beginning of the book (and, as far as I can surmise, are mentioned later in the book). Granted, we are only on page 115, so we still have a ways to go but, like...what?

So apparently there is a tradition of "waking the moon" in...whatever village our protagonist, Amira, is from...where a "hiding moon" is considered "a curse" so when clouds threaten to cover the moon the people assemble to collectively "wake her" by yelling, banging drums, shaking bells, beating pans. 

And I just...have so many questions about this. 

Is this a special ritual? Like, are there only certain nights that it's important to keep the moon unveiled? Or is it important that she is always free from cloud cover?

Who is keeping tabs on the moon? From what I can tell from the book (and from, you know, life experience), these are all very hardworking people (aren't we all?). So who is assigned moon-watching duty after working the land so hard all day long? Is this task accomplished in shifts? It seems like it would be difficult to stay awake long enough to keep the moon in "view / until sunrise announces / night's farewell" (p. 36), especially if this is a constant thing.

And, again, we're just waking up the entire village to conjure a cacophony every time the moon slips behind a cloud? 

When, then, do the people sleep?

I know the moon wasn't visible when I went to bed last night. The roaring wind, pouring rain, and crashing thunder made enough of a ruckus that I'm not sure any of my hollers would have been heard over the noise of it all. Perhaps that's why cloud cover is bad luck. Who knows?

I don't. 

Particular chaos

Phoebe is the particular kind of child who will pick through the utensil basket in the dishwasher, carefully curating a handful of forks to put away all at once.

Phoebe is also the chaotic kind of child who will take that carefully curated handful of forks, walk over to the silverware drawer (we still call it that, even though we've never owned actual silverware), and simply toss them inside, sending them clattering every which way in the drawer (instead of placing them neatly in their little cubby in the organizer...or whatever it's called...a slot, perhaps). 

In short, I'm never quite sure what to expect from her or do with her...but she sure is cute!

These pictures have nothing to do with putting away the dishes, but here's Phoebe climbing up this ladder-thing at the park this afternoon. I think it looks like Jack's beanstalk a little bit.

Curly Fives

Here's Zoë first thing in the morning on Sunday, just after taking out her curlers. She was excited to go to church with curly hair. It was a fast Sunday, which meant it was testimony meeting as well, and yet even with those gloriously sproingy curls Zoë stayed glued to her seat. 

Miriam got up to bear her testimony, though, which made me think back to a story I've never written down because Miriam was so embarrassed about it years ago...but she's mostly finished being embarrassed about it, I think, so I'll share it now. 

When Miriam was about Zoë's age (a little younger, perhaps (we were still living in Spanish Fork)) she asked me to curl her hair for church—on a fast and testimony Sunday! During the testimony meeting she surprised us all by standing up to bear her testimony. She regally skipped down the aisle and bounced up to the podium. With some enthusiastic head bobbing she bore her testimony. Then she skipped back down to sit with the family.

Blue-Green Threshold

This evening I asked Miriam to pass me my water bottle (my campus water bottle, as Phoebe calls it, because it fits into my computer bag...but I drink out of it 100% of the time at home as well because she has co-opted my nightstand water bottle) and for some reason as I was asking her to pass it to me...I said something about "green."

Probably because I usually have a pink water bottle (my home water bottle that only Phoebe uses) and a green water bottle (my campus water bottle) on my nightstand. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.

"Will you hand me my green water bottle?" I asked.

I was at my desk. Miriam was sitting on the middle of my bed. It made sense.

"Greeeeeeeeen?" Miriam said, aghast. "This is clearly blue."

"It's green," I said, reaching for it.

"It's blue," she said, yanking it just out of my reach.

"We all know I struggle with this," I said. "My green threshold is different from everyone else in this house. We know this. And that is green."