Maddie turns 3

Here's a fun thing. A Strawberry Shortcake party! GAH!

We whooped it up, people. Truly we did.

Look away now if you have any aversion to pink. Or to strawberries.



Strawberry Maddie lives here.



And here.





Toadja. Lot's of pink.



Wheelbarrow Races. Whee!



Strawberry Moonball.



Some Strawberry picking, too. Strawberry painted walnuts.



And there were party hats for everyone. So stylish.



You're only 3 once.

back blogging

Valentine's Day with all our Grandies. Yes, I know it's March.

Ld and I gave the girls umbrellas and the symbolism hasn't been lost on me. I've been lecturing myself to 'let a smile be your umbrella, on a rainy, rainy day' this whole winter.



Emer-dude. He can't navigate the complexities of umbrella opening yet.



He doesn't understand the rules to Don't Eat Pete either.



All in good time, Emer-dude. Next year you'll be a regular Gene Kelly, twirling your umbrella and stomp-splashing in the rain.

Nearly two whole weeks with our Megs and the kids. Emer started walking while here and Faye sang and sang to us. So glad to see these things in person. Facetime is great, but not nearly long enough.

sad doings

This winter has been a dreary one. So much sickness, grey days, and cold temps. We can't expect every winter to shower rainbows and lollipops, I know that. I guess we're due.

ld's Dad passed away last week. The funeral was Wednesday. His passing kind of puts an exclamation point to a tough January and February.

Loyal ld. I love this man.







Really grateful to be surrounded by our little family. Thanks so much Kody & Megs for making the herculean effort. It meant so much.

Thanks to my family, too. You are always there for us.

"For small creatures such as we
the vastness is bearable
only through love."
~Carl Sagan



I believe love ties are eternal. I really do.

This world is not conclusion,

A sequel stands beyond,

Invisible, as music,

But positive, as sound.

--Emily Dickinson

the 5 grandies

Happy day. Together with all our little people.

a new Arnold grandie

We have a new, tiny pink baby.

Andie Arnett Arnold

Born February 1, 2013 at 5:17 pm. 5 lbs 13 oz. 17 inches long.

We are beyond thrilled.

Easiest birth yet for Kenzie. She coughed and Andie appeared.

Andie joins the ranks of these two:

Strawberry shortcake obsessed, knock-knock jokester Maddie

and precocious, jump-off-furniture, smart Cate.

Both of them so sweet and endearing.

I tended Cate and Mads during Kenzie's hospital stay. It was a weekend of happy meals, dollar store pick-outs, baking cupcakes, reading, crafting and imaginative play. Standard Grandma stuff.

Oh, these girls are growing up and it's sweet and hilarious to see the sister dynamics evolve.

Saturday, the bathroom door was open and Cate was sitting on the toilet dangling her legs. Maddie was in there too, standing next to Cate, hands on her hips.

I pass by and hear this little exchange:

Cate: No, Maddie. You have to pay me $59.00, k?

Maddie: But me no got any money. (She turns her palms out for proof)

Cate: That's it. $59.00 or you can't poop.

Maddie: But me need to poop. Hooge (huge) poop.

At this point I intervened.

Oh, Andie dear. Do you have any idea what you have gotten yourself into?

facetime playtime

Faye: C'mon, Geema. Come play.

My screen goes all upside-down and sidewise crazy.

All I can see is light blue now.

Me: Help! Help! Let me out. I so scared.

Faye giggles and jabbers.

She opens the door to her play microwave and takes 'me' out.

Whew. What a relief.

This is how facetime with Faye goes. She wants me to play with her so she puts me, (meaning her Mom's iPhone with me on FaceTime) inside her toys. Sometimes I'm in her kitchen cupboard, or a pot, sometimes in the microwave.

And then I holler for Faye to rescue me.

Good times. And an improvement.

She used to put me in Emer's play shopping cart and haul me all around. I would get so dizzy, let me tell ya. So glad I'm not her doll.

Can't wait to play with Faye and her brother soon in person. Next Friday, people. Next Friday.

someone please tell me: what am I doing living in the tundra?

"Antisthenes says that in a certain faraway land the cold is so intense that words freeze as soon as they are uttered, 
and after some time then thaw and become audible, so that words spoken in winter go unheard until the next summer."
- Plutarch

Yup. So cold that words freeze.

Winters growing up were nothing like this. Duh.

This January is the worst I can remember. I have a physical sensitivity to cold anyway, (thank you hypothyroidism) and the ridiculously low temps coupled with no sunshine days really make my spirits sag.

Yesterday I bought a pair of new pajamas. They are soft and warm and bright pink and only 6 bucks at Sam's. I bought them on impulse hoping they might help me endure the rest of this bone-chilling, dark month.

There are days I never go out at all. Except to check the mail. It's fitting and so January-harsh-like that I had a root canal last week and a cold sore today. No flu/cold yet. Knock on wood. Really only thing getting me through is reading, mystery programs and whipping out the cardboard.

I am fighting hard to keep warm by 'inner fires'.

January

O winter! frozen pulse and heart of fire,

What loss is theirs who from thy kingdom turn

Dismayed, and think thy snow a sculptured urn

Of death! Far sooner in midsummer tire

The streams than under ice. June could not hire

Her roses to forego the strength they learn

In sleeping on thy breast. No fires can burn

The bridges thou dost lay where men desire

 In vain to build.


O Heart, when Love’s sun goes

To northward, and the sounds of singing cease,

 Keep warm by inner fires, and rest in peace.

 Sleep on content, as sleeps the patient rose.

 Walk boldly on the white untrodden snows,

The winter is the winter’s own release.

--Helen Hunt Jackson*

*Yes, that HHJ. The one who wrote Romona, which coincidentally I first read in January of 7th grade. Ah, Alessandro!

resolution for the new year

"Consistency is the hallmark of excellence". I believe this.

The thing that distinguishes between an amateur and a pro, so say social scientists, is that a professional will play, execute, and perform, to a much higher level of consistency. True for sports, music, art, any field of endeavor, really. And the reason a professional is able to perform so consistently well, is because of all the years (10 years or more!) of practicing to develop mastery. Consistent practice, then consistent execution.

What makes something good, or excellent, then, is its constancy.

So.

Can there be goodness without consistency?

Doesn't being a 'good' person imply holding steady to the same course or same principles? I'm thinking there's got to be a consistency in our patterns of behavior, eh?

But the reality is, I am consistently inconsistent, a truly fallen, natural-mannish creature. An amateur disciple.

Fortunately, for all of us, there is repentance. As long as we are living we are able to establish and re-establish patterns of commitment. That is the beauty, and gift, of time in this life, but also why the repentance process is not such a quick thing. It allows us to prove ourselves and grow new habits.

But when we think of someone who is unaffectedly 'good', isn't it their steadfastness and consistency to right living the very thing that we respect and admire and inspires us to lead better lives?

In my mind there can be no goodness without consistency. I can't be willy-nilly wavering, one day being kind and the next being a mean, raving banshee. I'm either kind or mean. My consistency in displaying either, shows what I am. My lack of consistency means I am not good but an amateur. I need more practice.

That's kind of what character is: doing the right thing naturally, because a person has done it over a long period of time. Reflexive Righteousness*.

It's my great frustration to not be able to always manage my life so that I'm always steady. Which is why the sacrament is so needed and so soothing to me. If we're willing to hear the truth about our self, the Spirit will point out areas of carelessness and inconsistency and will also empower us with the strength needed to act in a better way.

I would like my life to offer more consistent proof of goodness of heart and strength of mind. This is a New Year's Resolution that I'm sure to fail at, but it's important to my growth that I at least try.

*A term coined by Neal A. Maxwell

degenerating right on schedule

Say what?

“If a middle-aged or older man or woman can sit and rise from the floor using just one hand - or even better without the help of a hand - they are not only in the higher quartile of musculo-skeletal fitness but their survival prognosis is probably better than that of those unable to do so.”

Oh, man.

http://www.escardio.org/about/press/press-releases/pr-12/Pages/ability-to-rise-correlated-mortality.aspx?hit=dontmiss

I've kept my dad's old cane around all these years. Just in case.

2012 in review

Well. That book done closed.

Some favorite chapters:

No more droopy eye. Successful Lasik surgery. Goodbye contacts and glasses!

Family road trips to Las Vegas, Arizona, Utah Shakes and Zions.

Parades, birthdays, holidays, BBQ's, picnics, hikes, Sunday dinners, family celebrations. All made sweeter with the people I love.

Wicked, Les Miz, and South Pacific. Concerts, plays and books. Oh, yes.

More churchin', covenants and callings. Ld released from BYU. New callings for both of us. Yea, Nursery! Yea, grumpy ole' high priests!

Racking up frequent flyer miles exploring Wisconsin - Milwaukee, Madison, Green bay! Oh, and Chicago. Twice.

Relatively good health, having a niece and nephew live with us for a short time (love them!), and discovering Instagram.

Conflicted chapters, or pages I wish I could skim right over:

Our Megs, Kody, Faye and Emerson moving so far away. So. Hard.

Watching ld remain loyal and strong as his parents slowly slip away. So. Hard. Too.

Yeah, those two chapters are emotional tear jerkers.

But, as ld and I close the book on the year 2012, it's good to take an account. As in all good books read, I will find myself trying to process it in the days ahead.

And once again I am reminded that we live in days. When life is good, normal days are the best and then we knit or string those days together and make a year. A year with it's memories, meaning, and hard stuff. It's all there written between the pages.

And then we get to the end.

And begin a new book, a new year.

This one is already starting out good, people. With a new grand baby coming in February, lots to be excited about.

after-christmas fudge and pumpkin pie for breakfast.

I actually like the days right after Christmas best. All the frenzied shopping, wrapping, baking, programs and to-doing is over. I can just kick back and hang in all my pajama glory and bed-headed-ness.

Each Christmas is different and I have long ago given up any kind of expectations attached to the season.

What made this year wonderfully unique:

*Most of my shopping was done online (thanks, Megs!)
*The MoTab Christmas concert with Jioanny
*Celebrating pre-Christmas at Texas Roadhouse with 2 of my brothers and their wives. Good to be with them all but I miss our old Arnett Christmas Eves.
*Churchin' with our little Arnold family to hear Kenzie and Cate sing in Sac mtg. Nothing like seeing your 4 year old grandchild wave and blow kisses while singing "When Joseph went to Bethlehem".
*Christmas eve with Janny and Jiao. Great Asian cuisine. Ld posted a pic of Jiao's mashed potato and broccoli Christmas tree on Instagram if you recall. Her carved carrot star was amazing. There is no end to her talents. She is a fiercely competitive Scrabble player, too.
*Oh, and ld and I had to talk in Sac meeting on the 16th. I was pretty bummed about this because my computer totally kaputed on me. You try writing a talk on your ipad. Grrr. But Ld, merry Santa that he is, gave me a new laptop for Christmas and now I can surf, research, blog more and write more talks! hehehe.

Yesterday Ld and I braved the snow and went to see two movies. That, coupled with the usual after-christmas reflection, has me working my thoughts.

Lincoln with Daniel Day Lewis. Go see, go see. Had me thinking all night about leadership and history and our republic. And in a crazy bit of serendipity I came across this last night. Not about the 13th amendment and Lincoln at all but rather about 20th century changes.

http://rap.wustl.edu/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/George-Will-lecture-text.pdf

This is a fantastic presentation. It was shown first on C-span but I think reading the transcript gives more power to his words.

This speech by George F. Will. The Lincoln movie. They intersect in my mind. Come prepared to Sunday-dinner discuss.

Oh, and we also saw the Hobbit. Another post for another day, but let's just say I have been googling "Dwarf Rune" all morning.

vintagely counting down

I started making these last year for the grandies but with all the trauma surrounding Meghan and Emerson, not to mention planning a wedding, well, it had to be put on hold.

Finally delivered Cate and Maddie's on Saturday. (Faye and Emer: Grandma is stitching frantically, hoping to get yours mailed in a day or two).

These advent calendars are based on the one I had as a child. My Grandma Rose Clifford gave me one, it was a hot selling item at her annual Relief Society Bazaar. I had eyed it longingly and she put one aside for me.

boo hoo

Couple of days ago, I was whining explaining to Megs over facetime why I was having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.*

It gets ugly when I'm in a foul mood. My kids know this.

Me: My computer is running soooo slow, my sewing machine is busted (projects! projects), I haven't finished my Christmas shopping yet and my knee hurts. I am so depressed.

Meghan with muffled voice: Fir-wor-probs

Me: What?

Meghan (Speaking clearly now and daring to state the obvious): Those are first world problems, Mom.

Oh. Yes. Right.

As google tells me, "First World Problems, also known as "White Whine," are frustrations and complaints that are only experienced by privileged individuals in wealthy countries. It's a comedic device to make light of trivial inconveniences..." and as sometimes happens with humor, it can carry great truth.

It did and does sober me a bit to know that many third worlders would roll their eyes at my complaints.

So I have a new code for perspective now, to take the place of my old mantra to ld, 'It's not cancer, dude!' When things don't go my way, when an appliance breaks, or the store runs out of my preferred brand (Cup of Golds!) or when I have to inconveniently visit a doctor or dentist, look for my finger to shoot up. No, not that finger. The pointer one, the one that signifies number one. The finger that reminds me of all the choices and privileges I have in my life and to knock off all that myopic petulance.

*from one of my fav books. Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad day by Judith Viorst

we give thanks

Some years our challenges, difficulties or pain simply won't allow for a gratitude mind-set. Other years our blessings out number our problems - it's easier then to count our blessings. Our later years begin to teach us how essential living with awareness and perspective is to feeling peacefully thankful.

For the record, this year the cup over floweth. Sometimes we are blessed in spite of ourselves.

Cate was thrilled with the prospect of a little Thanksgiving play. She offered up a detailed description of what her costume should be and there were to be no deviations.

Don't you want any feathers or beading? No, Pocahontas didn't wear any.

Look, I delicately tried to explain, Pocahontas wasn't actually involved with the First Thanksgiving, to which Cate replied: It's a play, Gamma. I want to be Pocahontas. Thank you, Disney.

As for Maddie, she steadfastly refused to wear the costume I so lovingly made her. It was Strawberry Shortcake or nothing. She did enthusiastically consent to beat her drum and joined in with the dancing.

Cate also contributed to our Thanksgiving dramatization by composing the musical score. During appropriately deemed moments she would burst into song. She sang with so much heart and sincerity it brought us all to laughter tears.

As she sang so poignantly

When life gives you hard,...

Clearly, she took something from the Pilgrim experience. You had to have been there.

A sweet day with those I love most, minus our beloved Milwaukeans. I am left in no doubt, however, that their own celebration was successful, as Megs and I talked about twelves times throughout the day. It was her first attempt at turkey making.

for emer duder buddy

Finished Emer's bag of animals a couple of days ago.

It really is a mixed bag as the cretaceous creatures are all mixed with safari and farm animals.

I thought of making a playmat but it's kind of limiting. What if he wants the tree to be further away from the volcano? This way he can play the way he imagines it.

A few pics then:

The watering hole.

Pride rock, er, cave.

A volcano and tree.

A popsicle stick fence. To control those wandering farm animals.

tea with teddy

We fly out next week to celebrate Faye and Emer's birthday. Megs is busy planning a little lady and little man party. Can't wait.

ld and I bought them each a 'real' gift, but I like to stitch and glue a little something, too.

Guess what's in this bag?

Yup, Tea-to-go. Made from felt scraps and whatever I could find around the house. The bear is one of several my mother used to decorate her Christmas tree. I think she would approve of Teddy Beara re-locating to Wisconsin.

The hat I fashioned out of, you guessed it, cardboard and then covered it in fabric.

Hope Faye likes it. A lot of love with each imperfect stitch.

spooks are coming. get ready.

Missing our little Wisconsin spooks. Waiting anxiously for pictures.

More pics of our Utah grandgirls over on GP.

preschool culture exchange

Jiao taught Cate's preschool about China yesterday.

Chopsticks instructions

gaudium #999,000

Morning walk up the canyon.

excerpts from Autumn, by John Clare (1821)

And I do love the varied hue,

And I do love the browning plain;

And I do love each scene to view,

That’s mark’d with beauties of her reign.

I love the year’s decline, and love

Through rustling yellow shades to range,

O’er stubble land, ’neath willow grove,

To pause upon each varied change:

For every leaf, that twirls the breeze,

May useful hints and lessons give;

The falling leaves and fading trees

Will teach and caution us to live.

the case against bimbo pretty

Lots of discussions around my house on how to raise women of substance. I'm adding this to the conversation. I would link to the video but there's a big f-bomb in it. Google it if you want, it's pretty powerful, bad word notwithstanding.

“This, this is about my own some-day daughter. When you approach me, already stung-stayed with insecurity, begging, “Mom, will I be pretty? Will I be pretty?” I will wipe that question from your mouth like cheap lipstick and answer, “No! The word pretty is unworthy of everything you will be, and no child of mine will be contained in five letters. “You will be pretty intelligent, pretty creative, pretty amazing. But you, will never be merely ‘pretty’.”

--Katie Makkai (Pretty)

Being pretty is not any kind of achievement, really. And if it is all a woman has to recommend her then it becomes frustratingly painful when the looks go. And go they will. We all lose our youth, age fades us all.

But here's the thing, my whole life I have been surrounded by beautiful women. My mother was lovely and my own daughters, too. I have nieces, sisters in law, all of them very attractive. Physical beauty does draw you in at first glance.

But believe me when I say that there better be something behind that pretty face, because it really is only character and competence and caring that matters or endures.