I've heard about them plenty, but apparently my running form is so exquisite (lol) that I've never experienced them.
Until this week when my left shin started hurting something terrible.
I thought about my exercise routine and nothing really seemed off about it and I couldn't imagine that I would have developed shin splints from running the same way I always do (again—exquisite form...or something). So I decided to blame my trek across campus last week.
I went to campus because I needed to go do some work in the book room and look at some papers in the special collections library.
The walk from my office to the library is...quite the hike.
And I wore a new pair of shoes that honestly had my feet quite miserable by the end—a mile to the library, a mile back from the library, and then walking to and from the car added another mile to the day.
Clearly I had been doing some overcompensating as I was walking.
Or something.
Whatever the case, by Sunday afternoon my left shin—specifically—was killing me. Did my right shin hurt as well? I imagined that perhaps it did because my feet were still a little sore from their three-miles-in-new-shoes adventure on campus earlier. I spent a little time discretely massaging them while watching Benjamin's swim meet.
And then I skipped my run on Monday because...my shins were still sore.
But Monday was a bit of a crazy day because I accompanied Rachel to the doctor in the morning and then took Benjamin to the middle school in the afternoon (to see about how to perhaps get on the middle school swim team) and...I wore pants...so I didn't spend a lot of time looking at my legs (and didn't have a lot of time to look at my legs anyway).
Andrew stayed home with Phoebe and Alexander while I took the older four to church. Kind of. I drove Benjamin and Zoë. Rachel and Miriam went separately because they had a meeting after church.
But Zoë was fading away during sacrament meeting, so Rachel ended up driving her home (so that I could set up for primary).
The fast Sunday closest to the 4th of July is a Sunday that I approach with some dread because I really don't love it when all the testimonies wind up being about the constitution, for example, rather than about the gospel of Jesus Christ. But today's meeting was truly wonderful.
Many of the youth (including Rachel and Miriam) bore their testimonies about what they had learned about the gospel during the many retreats they've had this past couple of months (YM camps, YW camp, youth conference, FSY). A few adults bore their testimonies about their immigration or their ancestors' immigration, highlighting the love they have for their homelands in addition to the States. Only one sister spoke of the founding fathers directly—she read a passage from the Declaration of Independence, "that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.—That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed..."
She spoke a bit about traveling to Berlin pre-1989, of seeing that wall, of knowing that on one side there was oppression while on the other side there was freedom of movement, freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, and so forth. And how much joy there was when the wall came down and people were reunited and given the freedom to...you know...be. And how sad it is when we put up these walls and grant freedom to people on one side, while not allowing those freedoms on the other side, and that our Heavenly Father loves every one of his children no matter what side of the (human-made) wall they are on.
When we went to clean the church this morning we accidentally stumbled upon another ward's "Dads and Doughnuts" activity...so the church was filled with dads and doughnuts and children. They invited us to join them (and we did, from the sidelines). My kids weren't terribly upset about getting "second breakfast" before pitching in to clean.
The church has been filled with strange messes, some of which we've known about and some of which took us by surprise. One surprise was that someone had spilled a carton of chocolate milk in the chapel...and then just...left it...fermenting in the carpet. Super awesome.
Some of the messes we knew about were: a urn/flower arrangement delivery box left over from a funeral that happened months ago that has been sitting in the chapel. Some banker boxes that someone left in the hallway (again, months ago). I made the unilateral decision that these were destined for Rachel to pack her college stuff in.
I threw away some things that our co-op left behind (again, months ago now).
And I finally put a poster up in the YM room that had been put behind the piano in the YW room (again months and months ago).
It can be difficult to keep the church uncluttered when so many units are in there because no one wants to throw away anything that belongs to anyone else. But...given the unclaimed nature of these things...I don't think they were going to be claimed any time soon.
So, it took us a while to get through with our cleaning, but it was a pretty good morning.
*****
When I got Phoebe dressed this morning she was still in a bit of an early-morning daze so I was helping her pick out her clothes (which she ordinarily does on her own).
"Do you want pants or shorts?" I asked.
"Shorts," she said.
"Okay, here you go," I said, handing her a pair of blue and white striped shorts.
"Thanks," she said, "But I want to wear my high tide shorts."
"Your high tide shorts?"
"Yeah! They're right there!"
She meant her tie-dyed shorts. And then, of course, we had to find her "high tide" Grogu shirt to go with it. Here she is in her "high tide" outfit:
She was delighted to see Rachel and Miriam (she hasn't seen them since Sunday night because they've been at camp...and then even when they were sleeping at our house they were coming home after Phoebe went to bed and leaving the house before she woke up so she didn't even realize they were "home"). We were happy they were home to help us clean the church!
She delighted us on the drive to the church by singing "Once There Was a Thunderstorm" (to the tune of "The Wheels On the Bus"). She had sung the first verse last night at dinner and you should have seen us all lean in as she got closer and closer to the last line of the song because no one was sure what she was going to do to resolve her song. She simply fell back on the traditional ending for "The Wheels On the Bus."
Here's her song:
Once there was a thunderstorm, A thunderstorm, a thunderstorm.
Once there was a thunderstorm... All through the town!
So she sang that in the car for us and then went seamlessly into a secret second verse:
The thunderstorm made the power went out,
The power went out, the power went out!
The thunderstorm made the power went out...
All through the town!
Did she past-tensify too many of her verbs? Absolutely. But that's okay.
I recorded her singing it later and she corrected her over-past-tensification to say "the thunderstorm made the power go out."
It was fun to listen to her improvise this little autoethnographic ditty about her experience last night.
On Tuesday the kids spent all afternoon in the neighbour's kiddie pool. This picture is just Phoebe...because at this moment all the other kids were sitting in front of the fans (they hauled up from our house) in the garage, dripping wet. That must have felt good!
I remember years and years ago—approximately 30 years ago—the Schwartzbergs (the parents of my friend Jade, who had recently moved to Canada from South Africa) spoke in sacrament meeting. One of them—I believe it was Jade's dad—spoke about the importance of keeping promises to our children, even the silly little promises like stopping at McDonald's for a Happy Meal. He spoke about being called on the carpet for that one, with the kids reminding him that he had promised that if they _________ then he [would take them to McDonald's].
This was an amazing story to me because McDonald's was a luxury was rarely promised in my house growing up. We experienced it as a spontaneous surprise, perhaps (and, actually, Uncle David somehow had an impressive "Happy Meal Toy Collection" growing up), but I feel like it was a rare experience.
Somewhat reluctantly, I recall, Brother Schwartzberg made a stop at McDonald's to make good on his promise.
I'm trying to remember the exact gospel connection here. I'm sure it was something about how our Heavenly Father makes good on his promises. Maybe Matthew 7:9–11?
Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?
Whatever the case, I think we should all be impressed that I was paying enough attention during sacrament meeting to recall any details thirty years later.
To say nothing of Andrew's work schedule (which doesn't always populate on my calendar), today...
I had a meeting from 10:30 to 11:15
I had a meeting from 11:15 to 11:45
I left with the boys and Phoebe for the pool around 2:30
Zoë had piano at 2:45
Miriam had piano at 3:45
Zoë and Alexander had swim practice at 4:30
Benjamin had swim practice at 5:00
The big kids had mutual at 7:00
The medium kids had an activity at 7:00
Alexander had his baptism preview event at 7:00
We had to record a song for my mom at 8:30
It was a busy day and—aside from "leaving for the pool around 2:30"—that is just the official stuff that made it onto the calendar. We did other "stuff" as well!
It was also the last of a lot of stuff, which is why I don't mind sharing our calendar publicly. Swimming, piano, and church activities will all get switched around beginning next week...so this is the last day we'll have a schedule like this. And it may have been the first day we've had a schedule like this.
Today Alexander, Miriam, Andrew, and I all spoke in church. Miriam also played the organ. And I led the primary children in singing a song. So...it was...busy. Rachel sat with Phoebe (and the rest of the kids) on our bench and they all did great. I joined them after the primary kids sang because...I had to move places to conduct the primary, anyway.
Miriam did beautifully. I trembled like a leaf. Andrew made on-the-fly adjustments to fill the remainder of the time left in sacrament meeting. And Alexander spoke a little later in primary and did just great!
Also—fun fact!—I used the word "been" nine times in my talk and apparently that it is real tell for a Canadian. I say it so that it is homophonous with "bean," not "bin." To me it rhymes with "seen," not "sin." And apparently that's a dead giveaway!
Seminary graduation was held early this year—May 4th!
The girls have been attending seminary in the Roswell Stake. We're in Lilburn Stake, but are geographically closer to a lot of buildings within the Roswell Stake than we are to buildings in the Lilburn Stake and when it comes to early morning seminary, commute time matters. Plus, these seminary kids were kids that we met when we first moved here (before we were split off of their ward and then off of their stake), so...anyway...
Last year was the first year Rachel and Miriam attended in-person seminary. Grandpa was their teacher, along with Brother Moser—who is being released at the end of this year after four years of teaching early morning seminary. This year it was Brother Moser and...someone else.
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.
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.
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.
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.
While I was getting some work done this afternoon the kids built a marble run behind me. Phoebe explained that this was a good thing because they built a marble catcher so that way the marbles wouldn't end up all over my room...but as you can see...there are marbles all over my room.
The Buy Nothing Group has been amazing this last little while. Not only did we adopt Gary, but we also got this cool teeter-totter and some supplies for a Nerf gun battle the young men in our ward want to have. We've also given away a stroller and hopefully our water table will be picked up tomorrow (as it turns out...I am not a water table parent and my kids are not water table kids—my children do not demurely splash in water...it's all or nothing for them).
This post isn't about the Buy Nothing Group, though I do have some pictures of my kids enjoying their new-to-them teeter-totter:
Phoebe had her first day of Sunbeams yesterday and it went swimmingly.
I really just think the difference is in how the teachers approach the children in Sunbeams versus in the nursery. Not that the nursery teachers did anything wrong! I think it's rather instinctual in the nursery to coddle a little bit, to say, "Aw, sweetie, come here! Let me hold you! Mommy will be right back!"
And Phoebe didn't want that.
She wanted to be told, "Welcome to class. Find a seat. Listen to the lesson. And then we'll go to singing time."
No hugs. No random toy-stealing. No talking about her mom.
We had 22 scriptures on our list of scriptures to memorize this year and while I'm not sure everyone memorized every scripture, we certainly made a valiant effort. We officially crossed off 19 of them and are still working on 3. Perhaps we'll cross off more tomorrow.
The evening the youth in our ward took a shift as the live nativity for the Giving Machine set up in Alpharetta. I was a bit shocked when they told us that we had an assignment and that we needed to provide six youth because, well, that's just about (but not quite) everybody. But we did manage to more or less fill the necessary roles. We had two young men and four young women show up and they invited the older primary kids to participate as well, so we had three primary children present to bolster our numbers.
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