The Lone Ranger

Poor Baby, last school year he had no idea he was missing anything. He was still drooling and gnawing on the furniture. This year, as his brothers take off to the bus, he HAS to go with them. He straps on an extra backpack, starts trucking down the sidewalk with little backward glances at me, half scared I'm going to stop him. "Bye, Mom, I go skoo bus!" he calls out. "Have a good day!" I answer. I sit and chat with Jeanne as Baby plays with all the kids on the lawn at the bus stop. As the bus rumbles up the street, kids scramble to claim their place in line, and the little guy just stands and stares in longing. The first time we did this, the bus driver waited for him and asked me if he was getting on. I told her no, he was only two, and she laughed. She waves to him every day now.

A morning to melt the hardest heart

Here he is, after three years of preschool. After so many years of watching and longing. It's finally his turn.

In honor of his special day, the iron-clad rules of school-bus-line etiquette are set aside. Big brother gives up the alpha male position of first in line. Notice how they all go down in height? It's the pecking order.

There he is, shepherding the little guy into a new phase of life. (with a little help from nanny Jill)


I actually, ahem, got a little choked up at this point; watching a kind, supportive brother doing his job.


If you can't tell from his face, this guy is incandescent with joy. sniff.

Going, going, gone!

This has been a hard summer for me, very intense. I didn't realize how hard it was until I noticed all the things I usually love to do that I haven't done. My garden is sickly and anemic looking; I'm buying jam instead of canning the fruit from my yard. I've even (don't tell anyone) let fruit go bad 'accidentally' that people have passed to me so I won't have to can it. I just haven't been up to it. School starting this year has been like the rainbow after the flood, manna from heaven, a razor after weeks worth of growth on my legs! I've created a photo series to document the release of my soul from its shackles. I've named it "Going, going, GONE!" Enjoy.



They line up.

Jill watches to ensure no cutting in line.

Jill noses Elizabeth to say, "Hey, quit crowding Emma, give her some space!"

Almost there...almost there...

I don't know this girl, she doesn't hang with our crowd, that's why she's last in line.

Any more? Nope? Then.......
We're outta here!

To all you mothers who spent today wiping your eyes, sniffing sentimentally, and mourning that your house is empty....I'm blowing a big raspberry at you right now PBThthth!

Who doesn't love the fair?

Last night we went to the fair. We skipped last year, so this was the first time we'd been with all our substantial family. It was a bit unwieldy, wending our way through the crowds, but it was so great to see the excitement and wonder on each of their faces.

Look at their faces! See the excitement? The wonder?


The most fun for me was the people watching. It was very interesting to see people all decked out in what was to them, their finest and most attractive. I could just visualize some of the girls at home, in front of their mirrors with their friends testing the effect of first one outfit, then the other. It is a law of nature that every generation is entitled to their own ridiculous fashion trends. My parents have photographic evidence of my years of folly, and I'm keeping the camera handy for when my boys enter that phase.



We loved the massive, greasy, sugar and cinnamon encrusted elephant ears. There's just something deliciously disgusting about ripping them up, stuffing them in and licking the sugar from ones fingers.


I just got that shirt on sale at Walmart. Isn't it cute?


We were just finishing up when a few of the boys had, as Cindy says, an inkling of a tinkling. It gave me immense satisfaction to just smile, and say, "Go ask your dad!" Having all boys has its benefits.

Zintel Canyon- a boy's paradise!

Click to play | Make your own Smilebox

Rashed is here!

Wednesday we went to the airport to greet Rashed Alsaied from Saudi Arabia. He's the one in the back with the nervous smile that says "Oh my gosh, that's them, the ones with the huge sign that says 'WELCOME RASHED' I wonder if they'll like me, I hope they're not weird, or crazy or something." He came up to us, and we greeted him with equally nervous smiles that said "I hope he likes us. What will he think of us, and the way we live? I hope he'll be fun, not weird or crazy or something like that". I was thinking, "I hope he likes my cooking!"
Here we were, posing together, still very much strangers, about to become family. In 10 months, we'll be back here again to say goodbye, not able to imagine our home without him.

He took a day or two to get his bearings, then the next thing I knew, Rashed and Hussein were in the back yard teaching our kids how to play 'blind man's bluff'. Hussein is Bruce and Renee's exchange student from Egypt. They were naturals, and knew just how to handle the kids.
It was hilarious to see the kids, running around with them, shrieking with glee, really getting comfortable with the new guys.
Having little siblings of his own, Rashed knew exactly what to do when the action got a little too hot for the baby.
We're really excited to get to really know him and become friends. It's such a gift to be able to expand our family in ways we never would have expected. The people who have come into our lives have brought such color, spice and depth to our family. It's been awesome.

My Baby

My oldest son has had a pretty important month. He turned 12, was ordained a Deacon, and has started passing the sacrament. On Saturday we took him to the temple to do baptisms. I arranged a special family session, it was amazing! Every time I'm in the temple with my husband, I think about what it'll be like to have our sons there too. It was so neat to show him around a bit, to point out beautiful paintings, the gold leaf on the ceiling, and the wonderful spirit we feel there. Two hours after leaving the temple, my baby left for a week to scout camp! As he was stowing his pack and hanging around with the other scouts getting ready to leave, I saw him with new eyes. I could see the tiny newborn he once was. I could see me in him, and I could also see his dad, but there was something new there, some part of the man he's becoming. As mothers, I think we can be too close to get a clear view of the people we call our children. We can see them just as they relate to us, not as fully-realized individuals who just happen to share half our DNA. I saw a glimpse Saturday of this person, almost like I was looking at him through the wrong end of a spyglass. It's crazy to think that in seven more years, no one he meets will think of him as my son, he'll just be himself. He'll be free to succeed or to fail all on his own. I'm just so glad that he still likes to be with me, values my opinion, and still wants to snuggle in my bed first thing in the morning!