Happy Father's Day!

This is my Daddy...that's right, "Daddy," not just "Dad".  Isn't he a handsome devil?

This is the face that I saw last of all, every night when I was a little girl.  He was so sweet to me.  Every single night he would throw the covers over my head and fold them back neatly, tucking me in.  Then he would sing me a song: "I love you, a bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck..."  Usually he didn't finish it. I was an adult before I realized it was a real song (from "Guys and Dolls") and not something that sprang spontaneously from his heart.  :)  He made me feel so special.  I remember going to sleep every night with such a warm fuzzy feeling.  My dad sure loved me.   As a mother I am even more impressed at how awesome he was at the bedtime routine.  How many nights to my kids go to bed and the last thing they hear from their exhausted mother is something heart-warming like: "JUST GO TO BED!!!  I'M DONE!!"  Poor little guys...

Wanna know something cool about my dad?  He's a scientist.  Yup!  An honest to goodness fully fledged scientist.  He got his Doctorate from Brown University in...uh...something scientific, like Fluid Dynamics or something (whatever that means).  Daddy worked for Lockheed Martin for his whole career.  He did all kinds of scientific work for them on government contracts.  If I ever asked him what he did at work, he'd say "I can't tell you."  How cool, I thought, maybe he's a SPY!  But he wasn't a spy, he was a scientist, which is much more exciting to me now that I am grown up.  Daddy was such a good provider.  Always there, always on time, a real Johnny-on-the-Spot.  He used to hoard all his vacation days and use them to get the better part of December off for Christmas.  That made Christmas even more awesome.

One of the things I treasure most about my Dad was the time he took to EXPLAIN stuff to his 7 kids.  When we got in trouble, it was never just "GO TO YOUR ROOM!"  It was always, "Let's talk a little bit about what just happened.." followed by 20 min. of deep character evaluation.  ;)  I remember him taking the time to explain to me why it was so important to resist selfishness, and how it leads to unhappiness.  He taught me the gospel this way too.  He loves to talk about the gospel and has lots of deep insights.  He gave me a strong conviction that morality is much more than just a silly rule, to be tossed aside at the slightest temptation.  He always taught that the things Heavenly Father wants us to do are because He loves us and wants us to live happily.  I still believe this.  What a good job my father did as a teacher!

This obviously isn't the best picture I've ever taken, but I like it because it describes my daddy so well.  The loving dog and the bull (actually it is just a cow, but still) represent 2 important facets of his personality.  The puppy represents the man who teared up almost every Sunday during church, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief when the talks were touching.  So tender.  This is the same side that led him to constantly tell us all how much he loved us.  I can honestly say I think he said it every single day to me.  Very rare in father's these days, I think.  The bull represents his authoritative side.  My father is not a big man, probably 5'6 and lightly built, but BELIEVE me, when he was stern everybody hopped to attention and straightened right up.  I remember once at our church youth group a couple of non-member teenagers came to beat up one of the 17 year-old boys in our ward.  They punched him pretty good, and I remember seeing several large church leaders running into the church to call the police or something.  But MY dad, my fearless (and relatively small) dad, ran right up to those 2 huge teenagers (they looked like linebackers) and stuck his finger right at their faces and bawled 'em out like they were school boys.  I'll never forget the sight...it was like looking at two St. Bernards fearfully eyeing a barking chihuahua.  He scared them right off; they ran away with their tails between their legs.  I was so proud of him, saving the day like that, like some kind of super hero.  If he were a super hero, his super power would be "having a serious voice that absolutely leaves you no doubt that he means business" man.  But that's a kinda long title for a super hero, isn't it?  That's why I just call him "Daddy."  

 Love you too, Daddy.  Thanks for always being there for me. 

Happy 46 to My Parents

Commentary to Follow Soon!

A Tribute to Mom

Happy Mother's Day! 

I want to tell you all about my mother and how absolutely fabulous she is. Indulge me.

The last time I was at Mom and Dad's house, I took a bunch of pictures.  Here are some of the ones of Mom. (I also have black and white files of all these images, so if anyone wants them, just shoot me an email.)

I like this picture because it shows her vulnerable side.  I was fully 19 years old before I comprehended that my mom was a real person, with difficulties, weaknesses, hopes, and dreams.  I had always thought of her as this invincible person, always optimistic, always happy to serve. SUPERMOM!  This picture reminds me that she was once a little girl.  And I'll tell you one thing I know about her as a little girl--even then she knew she wanted to be a mother someday. 

  

My mom is intelligent.  As a elementary student, her IQ was tested along with everyone else in her grade. It was high.  Really high.  In fact, it was the highest score that had ever been given at that school.  The administrators went to her parents and told her that they thought she should try taking college classes.  They wanted to put her on the fast track to become a famous scientist or something.  My grandparents gave her the choice--did she want to go straight to college, or did she want to continue on through all the grades with the kids her age?  My grandmother told her that maybe she would grow up to be a scientist and never have kids, but instead have a really amazing career.  That made her mind up...she wanted no part of it.  She had already decided that she wanted to get married and have kids.  That was her career choice.  And she put her heart and soul and all her intelligence into it.  She eventually ended up with a BA in comparative literature.  She filled our house with books, and she filled the conversation of the home with deep insights and analytical discussion.

I like this picture of my mom because she looks like such a Richardson--like such a Lee.  The pioneer heritage that she has always been so proud of is printed all over her face.  She comes from hardy stock, the kind of people who settled the west and were the backbone of the early church.

Now that she has raised her 7 children, my mom is still in the business of giving love.  She embraces people who are struggling in the community.  She works in the temple.  And most of all, she flies around loving her grandchildren and visiting her kids. 

I still remember how it felt to become a mother for the first time.  I was so overwhelmed.  I had no idea what was going on with my body (whose body is this?), and I had no idea how to care for a newborn (he's going to die! He feels like he is falling apart!  Why is his poop black?  Is he bleeding internally?!?) She swooped in like the cavalry.  And suddenly everything was managable.  Everything was okay.  Nursing is going to work, just give it time to regulate (my body made the mistake of thinking I had quintuplets and produced WAY too much milk.  And lemme tell you, nothing seems right when you feel like your chest is about to explode.  TMI, sorry.)  I've heard some of my friends lament that when their mothers come (even right after having a baby), they criticize their housekeeping, their cooking, their parenting, etc.  This shocks me.  After I have a baby, she comes, she cooks, she cleans, she buys groceries and fills my freezer with future meals, she plays with the older kids, she buys little things for the baby.  She even gets up in the night with the baby sometimes, to let me sleep as much as possible.  One time she even turned all the green tomatoes in my garden into like 50 quarts of raspberry jam, despite my numerous protestations.  Hahaha.  Mother. 

You see how happy my mom is in this picture?  It's because of the dog.  She is loving the dog, and that makes her happy.  You should see how happy she is when she is holding one of her little grandkids.  Seth and Kristina used to live close to mom and dad.  Kristina told me that they used to drop off their baby, Simeon, so they could go on a date.  When they left, my mom would be cooing at him and holding him in a rocking chair.  When they came back, there she would be, in the same chair, doing the same thing.  She had never got up.  And she'd be like, already?  That wasn't long enough--go get some ice cream or something.  That's the thing about my mother, she was never a reluctant mother, never a martyr.  She honestly loved mothering, and couldn't think of anything more wonderful than living her daily life with her kids.  What a gift to be raised by someone like that! 

One more thing: my mom is lovable, and so very very friendly.  My whole life, anywhere I have gone with my mom, she has been making friends,  She chats up the grocery store clerk, she catches up with the lady by the dairy case, she laughs with the lady at the pharmacy.  She's the friendliest person I've ever met!  She has visited me enough times and gone to church with me, that the ladies in my ward all want to know what she's up to, and when she will be visiting again.  NO JOKE, people in my ward call me to ask for her phone number...cause, you know, sometimes you need to talk to someone who cares.  And she does.

 I love you, mom, forever and ever and always! You are as fine a person as I have ever had the pleasure of hanging around.  And you are my hero in every way.

Palmyra!

We had a great family reunion with my parents and brothers/sisters plus approximately a billion grandkids.  New York.  In the fall (bing!).  First Niagra Falls, then Palmyra, which is a historical sight for our church.  Here are some of my favorite pictures.

Mom and Heber, her firstborn.  Checks out their highly visible gums--it's almost like they're related.

The oldest grandchild, Allen.  He was a huge sport and took off his coat, even though it freezing (like 54 degress or something) so I could take this art shot in the Sacred Grove.  Notice the carpet of leaves...it was so fun to crunch our way through as we walked around this beautiful and inspiring place.

Audrey, Laura's 3rd little girl.  Gorgeous child!

Stephanie, the caboose in Heber's family.  Doesn't she look like an angel?

I have my own angel.  This cherubic child would never fight loudly with his brothers on the way home from the bus stop...wait.

Nothing but love here!  Sacred Grove again.

We got lost for about 20 min. looking for the exit from the Sacred Grove.  Adam was concerned. Right after I took this picture he said "Are we going to have to live here from now on?"

My beloved Dad on the Joseph Smith farm.  This picture kind of lets you know what he would look like with a big orange afro, in case you ever wondered.

This tree was on the Hill Cumorah, which I loooved.  The sky was grey, the wood was dark and wet.  It almost seemed like the leaves were producing the light on some trees.

Color!

I loved lots of things about the reunion, including, but not limited to:

1.) Hanging out with my awesome siblings until far too late at night (in the hall of the hotel so we wouldn't wake up our kids--kinda surprised no one yelled at us for loitering).

2.) Holding my new little niece, Brianna (Laura's), and nephew, Elliot (Grant's).

3.) Basking in the presence of my parents, who are most dear to me.

4.) Seeing the historical sights (Joseph Smith Farm, Hill Cumorah, Sacred Grove) with so much importance to me in my life...although I did get the distinct feeling that even though sacred things happened on these sights, that any place can be sacred if your heart is turned to God.  But still.

5.) Relishing in the beauty of nature in two of its most audacious displays, Niagra Falls and Autumn in New England.

PIctures for Mom

A couple of pictures I've taken (or had taken by someone with my camera) in the last couple of months:

Mom and her little brother, Uncle Gary.

Me and James at the big family reunion in Heber.

3 Little boys snatched from blissful bug-catching.

A snapshot of Danielle at the park.

 

Love ya Mom!  Don't despair, eventually I plan on posting pictures of Palmyra.  :)

The Wrong Idea

People have the wrong idea about having kids, they really do.  Not ALL people.  But a lot of people.  There is so much talk about the diapers and the teething and the messes, but honestly--it takes like 45 seconds to change a diaper (usually--every once in a while you have a Hiroshima diaper event).  You are very likely going to spend more time doing stuff like this than changing diapers on an average day if you have an 18 month-old:

It's a sweet sweet life that's flavored with baby giggles.

Surprise! Surprise!

We just had a lovely visit with James' parents--Wayne and Sandy. 

It was the very best part of Christmas, in my book.

And the best of the BEST was this:

Imagine you live a billion miles away from your children, who each happen to live in separate states.  Then you rustle up the frequent flyer miles to go visit one of them.  Then while you are there, the doorbell rings unexpectedly, and THERE right before your eyes is one of your OTHER children with their 5 beautiful kids.  I bet you'd be surprised.  I bet your face would look just like this:

First you would be shocked to your foundation

(although the fact that your daughter-in-law had been wearing her camera for at least an hour might have given rise to slight suspicion, if you're the suspicious type).

Then you would probably begin to feel great joy.

Beloved grand-daughter Megan is now on the scene! (Wonder where she got her red hair?)

 Then you might realize that your mouth had been open REALLY wide.
 

 Then you might get kind of teary and say something like "Oh You...[sneaky sneak beloved daughter-in-law]."  Although the whole thing was probably organized by your sneaky sneak twin sons, if you have them.

And if you DO have grown-up twin sons, then you probably wouldn't be too shocked that within 30 min. they'd be discussing fart apps for their smart phones.  As in, you jiggle your leg and the amazing motion-sensitive thing makes *ahem* a noise.

Families--gotta love 'em.

James on the left.

P.S. Here is a lovely picture I got of Sandy while she was here.  Hopefully it will make her forgive me for the goofy ones I posted earlier.

Isn't she lovely?

P.P.S  Wayne was surprised too.
 



Joey Takes the Big Dip

Joey was baptized on November 11th.    He was soooo excited!

Grandma and Grandpa Farnsworth were able to come all the way from New Mexico for the event.

It was a very sweet day for me.  There were 7 kids getting baptized in the stake that day, so there were a LOT of people.  The chapel and the over flow area was full.  James and Sam sang a special musical number.  It was an arrangement of "Come Follow Me" and "How Great the Wisdom and the Love" that I wrote for the event.  (Which made me crazy, but nevermind that.)   It was so precious.

  

After the baptism Joseph was asked in Sacrament meeting how he felt while he was being baptized.  He said he just felt "really peaceful."  I felt really peaceful too.  I was relieved, *whew* another one safely in the protection of Jesus' atonement.  But one person did not feel peaceful AT ALL.  Guess who?

Danielle screamed bloody murder when he went under the water.   She couldn't understand how we could let him drown like that.  (She never saw him come up cuz she was too busy pitching a MAJOR fit and they closed the curtain.)  Kind of nice to know you are loved, I guess.

An Abundance of Sam

Sam in an interesting little fellow.  His goal in life is to grow up and buy a house that has stairs.  It is quite a trial to him that we live in a one-story house.  I say it has helped keep him alive.

Never boring.  He is the only child I know who spontaneously sings scat. 

Very humble.  He loves to tell adults how they should do things differently.  He has all kinds of ideas for improving the energy grid. 

He is especially prone to hilarity.  He will obediently do anything I ask him to do, except calm down and stop laughing.

What would we do without him? 

 A LOT LESS.

Love you, big guy.

In Which I Brag...

I know there are lots of things I need to post. I still haven't posted our trip to Disneyworld, Danielle, Sam, Joey's or James' birthdays, and Joey's baptism. I know some of you are waiting patiently to see these things. Unfortunately, I am NOT going to post any of those things right now. Because, apparently, it is urgent that I brag about my recent photo shoot with a sweet family in our ward. They took care of Adam while James and I went on the pioneer trek with the youth of our ward. So as a thank you, I took some pictures of their kids at the temple. Look!

I guess I can't take credit for how cute their kids are, but I can try.  I think she looks like an angel.

Littlest man in the family.  7 months old or so.

The biggest brother lookin' cool.

Bambi eyes on this little guy.

 I think this is my favorite. I can't handle the dimple!  Too much cuteness.

You know how you get cute pictures of kids?

Start with cute parents.