Author: Angela

I write so my family will always have letters from home.

Moments of Timothy Greatness

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Last week Timothy hinted meekly that he was playing in a concert during school. I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to be there so I asked him on a scale from one to ten, how much he would like me to come. (Helping him avoid having to say the awkward, “Please don’t come, Mom.”) To my surprise, he said, “8 or 9.” So I went and I was one of four guests, three of whom were clearly grandparents. In other words, I was one of the privileged few. He even let me take a picture.

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He is growing up but he still lets me be in love with him.

Last night Paige and I hosted the salad course of a progressive dinner at our house for the Young Men and Young Women in our congregation. We entertained 3 groups of 15 youths and leaders. Timothy and Daniel were in one of the groups together, but Tim didn’t depend on Daniel, nor did he sit by his dad who is now one of his youth leaders. He sat beside the new boy. I was glad to see it.

Celebrations


 1-DSC_2572 Ooooh. I finally got brave and sewed these paper hearts I cut out a year ago. I’ve never sewed paper before, but it was easy and I love how it turned out. Please don’t ask me what the camera is focused on in the above picture. Not a single bit of that picture is in focus.1-DSC_2577I’m a little ambivalent about Valentines Day.  I think it stresses Richard out. I don’t like to feel high maintenance, because I’m not. Except when I am shopping for a violin. Ahem.

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My annual reading of The Gettysburg Address and Pink and Say will happen today when I find some time alone. I used to read Pink and Say aloud to the kids each February, but I gave it up. I just prefer to cry in private. Happy Birthday, Mr. Lincoln.

 

 

Family Home Evening #9,000 or something

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Sometimes I am guilty of giving my best to my students instead of my children. I am learning that I can give my best to both. When it is my turn to give a family home evening lesson, I share what I am learning in my personal study or preparations for lessons at church. This month I made some extra copies of the Plan of Salvation kits that I made for a young women lesson. Last night the kids cut them out and added them to their missionary/future family collections. We also prepared some for a missionary care package.

My mom told me that she would make Plan of Salvation visual aids with the missionaries all the time. She suggested that we include transparent “spirit bodies” which enter at birth, are separated at death, and reunited with the colorful physical bodies at the resurrection. I have to admit that this little detail is my favorite part of these laminated kits. Most of these elements come from The Friend Magazine, January 2008. If you want a copy I would be happy to send them to you. You can use my laminator if you’re close by, too.

Progress report

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I’ve made some progress in doll making this weekend. Here we see her face, missing pupils and a few final details in the eyes. I’m trying to decide if she is a redhead or a brunette. I am leaning toward brunette. My social media friends have been asked for their vote, and so far they are divided on the hair color. Eventually I hope to make many dolls of many different shades. I am also in love with a concept I found for a little boy doll.

This is so satisfying to see her come to life. I work on her for a little while now and then and come away happy each time.

As I sew, I think of my friends and family members who are facing difficult things. This doll is going to one of them.

Toy of the month

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Simple games are sometimes best. Mark plays with these two hyper little toys every day lately. Standard equipment for bouncy ball games is a flashlight and long stick to retrieve the lost when they roll under the furniture and appliances. Sounds do not include shooting, lasers, zombie voices, or annoying music. Sounds do include heavy steps across the floor in frantic chase scenes and frenetic bounce rhythms until the balls hit some carpet and come to a rest.

It’s great exercise to chase a bouncy ball. It’s quite a thing to see. I don’t mind the clatter because it’s wholesome fun and he’s my baby.

Writing but not blogging

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I found this on Pinterest but couldn’t find the original source.

It’s a good time for me, writing and studying many things. My formula for success lately comes from going to bed early, getting up early, exercising, and doing “mental” work in the morning. Housework happens in the afternoon, and most days, I take a short nap. At the very least, I try to read when Mark reads and write when Mark writes. On good days, I also practice the violin when he plays the piano.

Sorry, no pictures of the kids today. I’ve taken some but haven’t edited them. I have written many more essays for my book this week than I set out to accomplish and some activities have to be dropped in exchange.

Is writing this book evidence of a midlife crisis? The only other person I know who is writing her memoirs is dealing with a terminal illness. Some days I feel like I’m doing something crazy that no one will want to read. Other days I feel like I must be very self centered to think that my experiences are worth sharing. Other days, I write something that moves me and I can’t wait to share. The Doppler effect of memories is always on my mind. I am trying not to distort my story with too much sentiment earned by time and a different perspective. The truth is, there have been a steady mixure of rough days and good days and I am trying to figure out how to share them to connect with someone who might be going through something similar.

After indulging in the literary equivalent of a selfie each morning, focusing on myself and loving the time, I try to do something completely different, preferably for someone else! I think that I’m happier for the time spent writing, even if it means that must I get up early to do it.

#TBT: 2005

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Timothy is strapped into a car seat behind Richard. I lost this poncho a year later. I still miss it. At least I still have my trusty black Sienna!

 

In this picture we had just left our home in Austin for the last time and we were on our way to the airport to move to Arizona (Timothy is strapped into a car seat behind Richard). I had just tried to vacuum all the footprint marks from our carpet after everyone walked out. There was a hopeless thought that we would be forgotten as simply as those footprints disappeared beneath the vacuum. At least I had that fabulous poncho to wear that day. At least there was that. I’m totally not kidding about that poncho love.

I wrote a few more sad things about the day and just deleted them. I’m going to go cheer myself up now…write with some colored ink, read something, and make a few stitches in some fabric.

Life isn’t always rosy, folks, is it? Hold on, though. Everything will work out. Guaranteed.