Shopping day

This morning Andrew took Phoebe shopping. He's been taking her for a few weeks now and she loves it because she gets to wave at everybody and remind him that we need bananas. I love it because he used to always take the littlest kids with him as "shopping buddies" every Saturday to give me, like, my one and only break from little kids in the whole week...but hasn't done that since March 2020. 

That's a long time to go without shopping buddy time!

Today she reminded him of more than just bananas.

After they'd finished at Costco, they headed out to the van, put the groceries in, and then wheeled the cart over to the rack. Andrew took Phoebe out and started walking back to the van and Phoebe started fussing at him, "Dada! Ahhhh! Dada! Ahhhh!"

"Yes, those are the carts," he agreed. 

"Dadaaaaaa! Ahhhh! Ahhhh! Dad!"

"I know you like to ride in the cart. You can have another ride at the next store," he promised.

High Museum of Art

Sensing my "hey-you-just-went-to-a-fancy-art-museum-in-Chicago-and-I-am-getting-thrown-up-on-over-here" fomo vibes, Andrew and I coordinated to purchase a pass to the High Museum of Art while he was out of town (with six children, the family pass seems very affordable). Today we all went to the museum together. 

We started at the top of the museum—African and Folk Art—and worked our way down. Here are some of our crew admiring the truly amazing masks on display:

I'm sure they were trying to imagine balancing while wearing that very tall mask (I know I was).

Walking

Sometimes—even though...or because...I live in a city—I feel very trapped by my surroundings. Stranded, even. It's a very frustrating feeling for me. But there's just really no where to...go...not without driving. And driving is...fine...but, we also all know how I feel about driving (A—I don't enjoy it and B—I think our society's dependence on cars is morally wrong). 

The closest place to walk to is a full mile away (it's a church on a busy street). If we want to actually walk somewhere to, like, hang out...it's more like two miles. 

I learned this on Monday when I proposed that we walk to the park because it was "only" a mile. But, guys, my brain just got so excited when it saw the 1 that it neglected to absorb the .9 that followed it.

And so it happened that I took my kids for a four-mile walk on Monday. They did great, but it was a little farther than we bargained for. And not at all doable every day...not that we're not physically capable...but time-wise I don't think our schedule can handle an outing of that duration.

Here's Phoebe, so happy to be out of her stroller and running around:

A few cute pictures from today

Here are Zoë and Benjamin clomping around in the shoes that Andrew and I wore to church this morning:

Talk on Forgiveness

Today Andrew and I spoke in church. Reid came over to our house to hang out with the kids since we're still trying to navigate our return into public air (but really Phoebe is getting much better at masking so we might be close; today when she noticed Andrew and I were getting ready to go somewhere she quickly went to find shoes and a mask). Rachel was home, of course, but we didn't want to leave her home with all the kids because...they're a handful. Phoebe did great without us!

Miriam came with us, since we were still figuring out the specifics of her playing the organ for the Spanish Ward. 

And we figured out Zoë's baptism date as well...more or less. She wants to get baptized while we're out in Utah.

So, it was a productive morning at church! And then Rachel got her patriarchal blessing this afternoon! Busy day!

Anyway, I spoke on forgiveness and Andrew spoke on loving others.

Here's more or less what I said:

Lizards and spelling

This morning after Alexander finished his chores he came to me and said, "Mom, I finished putting away my dishes and everything so C-O-O-D-I-P-L-A-Y-M-C?"

I looked at him blankly.

"C-O-O-D-I-P-L-A-Y-M-C?"

"What?" I asked.

"Could I play Minecraft?"

"Oh," I said. "Sure. For a bit."

"I think you need to work on your spelling."

"Yeah, same, buddy."

*****

Zoë triumphantly announced that she caught a lizard the other day. She has it in an old spinach container, but she would like government officials to know that although she is diligently hunting earthworms and leaving out dishes of water for this small creature...she's not keeping it as a pet. She's merely protecting it from birds while its tail heals. Because apparently it dropped its tail in self-defense not too long ago.

15% chance

How, how, how are entire weeks going by without me writing a single word on this blog? I swore this would never happen to me. But here we are.

The three middle kids spent the past week sleeping in a tent. They have bedrooms...with comfy beds in them...but they prefer to squash into a flimsy tent on thin foam padding. Go figure. 

They were excited because there was no rain in the forecast this week...until last night, that is. Even then, there was only a 15% chance of rain. Coming from the desert, we figured that meant it wouldn't rain, but we moved the tent under the roof on the back porch, just in case. And a good thing we did, too, because we landed in that 15% and it rained!

I think everyone pretty much knows that that 15% chance means that in 15% of the however many million models run by meteorologists...it rained. I understand that, too. But there's some part of my brain that assumes that if there's only a 15% chance of rain, then even if it does rain it won't rain very hard.

Evidently that assumption is incorrect because apparently last night we had a 15% chance of being caught in a two-hour downpour! 

Thunder, lightning, wind and heavy rain!

I was so glad our flimsy, little tent was protected by the roof. 

We need to remember that in the south any percent chance of rain is a high percent chance of rain!

Just spicing things up

As part of the Easter Egg Hunt, the bishopric gave each child a picture of Jesus to take home. 

We're homeschoolers so we're already pretty used to people wanting to quiz our children—

"Oh, you're homeschooled? What's 6 + 5? 18 - 4? 7 x 3?"

"Oh, you're homeschooled? How do you spell predicament—pre-DIC-a-ment?"

"Oh, you're homeschooled? Who was the fourth president of the United States?"

So I had to laugh when pictures were being handed out and to children with a "Happy Easter! Happy Easter! Happy Easter!" and then, upon reaching Alexander, a pause...

"I have this picture for you, but first..." [***POP QUIZ!***] "Can you tell me who this is?"

"Uh...Jesus..." Alexander said, slightly offended at being asked such an obvious question.

Even Phoebe can answer that one. Apparently. 

(I didn't know she could before today, but evidently she can because she said, "Jesus!" as well, with much more enthusiasm than Alexander was able to muster.)

"Yes, and can you tell me what's behind him? Like what is this?" [indicating the tomb].

"The tomb," Alexander said, equally bored. 

"It is! Good job!" and then for the next child, "Happy Easter! Happy Easter! Happy Easter!"

It's always nice when my homeschooled children can pass these "pop quizzes" everyone seems to want to give them, whether scholastical or ecclesiastical.

Anyway, this evening we were reading the Berenstain Bear's Easter Story and we got to a page that said, "On the morning of the third day after Jesus died, some women who knew Jesus came to weep at his tomb..."

"Uh, they did not come to weep," Alexander interjected saucily. "They came to spice it up!"

"True!" Zoë agreed. "They went to anoint the body with spices."

So, there you have it. 

Easter Egg Hunt

I feel like we're very much in the minority of the population, but we're still just dipping our toes back into society because even if we end emergency measures, even if we announce "mission accomplished" and claim the pandemic is over, the truth of the matter is that COVID is the third leading cause of death in the United States and while we the strains we're dealing with are less deadly—whether due to vaccination, natural immunity, and better treatment due to targeted medications, or simply less vicious viruses—people are still getting very sick.

We would still like to avoid getting sick (especially as sick as we were last year) and so we're still trying to limit our exposure (especially indoors). And we're still wearing our "silly" masks (as someone called my mask not too long ago—"Oh, you're still wearing those silly masks?"). And we're still just...trying to be careful...

But also it's been years of having essentially no contact with anyone and I'm tired. So we're slowly dipping our toes into society because we have to learn to live with COVID. Isn't that a line we've heard over and over again? It's not going away any time soon, is it? So we must learn to live with it. 

I think that learning to live with COVID means the opposite of going back to the way things were but instead means moving forward in new ways. So we're not willing to give up our masks and personal air purifiers in venues that haven't improved their own ventilation systems since COVID's arrival. And we're encouraging gatherings to be held outdoors, when possible, and are trying to support those activities.

Rachel and Miriam went to their first multi-stake dance this evening. It was a "food truck evening" and was held outside! They had lights and speakers, an area to dance, volley ball games, and—of course—food trucks. Everyone had a lot of fun...outside.

The girls learned a line dance (this one) to Cotton Eye Joe (by the Rednex).

I can't believe they're still playing that at stake dances. And yet I can...because it's a great dancing song.

We didn't do that line dance to Cotton Eye Joe when I was going to the dances (though I think they did in Utah, technically, but I hardly count those dances because...they just weren't as cool as the Calgary tri-stake dances). Ours was...kickier...if we did one (like this one). But mostly I remember free-styling polka-like moves.

At any rate, I'm glad kids are still dancing to it. 

I mean, we dance to it at our house sometimes. But I'm glad that kids are still dancing to it outside of our house. 

I'm not sure when they'll get to go to a dance again, though, because an indoor dance sounds...super soupy. Just inhaling everyone else's exhales. No thanks. 

Anyway, the primary Easter egg hunt was outdoors and was their first outdoor activity all year, so I decided we'd show (especially since we'd RSVP'd). I was hesitant after that terrible night with Phoebe, but...she's really pretty great at social distancing...and really was just choking on snot...that wasn't brought on by COVID...so we went. 

Allow me to demonstrate how well she can social distance:

On the same day in April

Just as Millie and Phoebe had vastly different (and yet similar) days on the same day in March, Andrew and I are having vastly different experiences on the same day in April. And even as I was typing that last sentence our weekends got even differenter. 

He is in Chicago at MPSA (Midwest Political Science Association). 

I'm here at home.

He had lunch with Bonnie Goodliffe's son (who is a professor at BYU's Political Science Department so is also at this conference and reached out to Andrew for some networking).

I fed the kids tuna fish sandwiches for lunch, which I soon regretted when Phoebe had a coughing attack and vomited tuna fish salad all over the both of us while she was nursing.

This is the only gross picture in this post (unless you think lizard silhouettes are gross; there are a couple lizard silhouettes, too)