Lingering humourously over some of the contents...

"It is the nightly custom of every good mother after her children are asleep to rummage through their minds and put things straight for next morning, repacking into their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day. If you could keep awake (but of course you can't) you would see your own mother doing this, and you would find it very interesting to watch her. It is quite like tidying up drawers. You would see her on her knees, I expect, lingering humourously over some of your contents, wondering where on earth you had picked this thing up, making discoveries sweet and not so sweet, pressing this to her cheek as if it were a kitten, and hurriedly stowing that out of sight. When you wake up in the morning, the naughtiness and evil passions with which you went to bed have been folded up small and placed at the bottom of your mind; and on the top, beautifully aired, are spread out your prettier thoughts, ready for you to put on."

--J.M. Barrie, from Peter Pan

I ran across this quote as I read the book (SO worth reading, by the way. Absolutely Wonderful)

Last night Rylan made me laugh as I was tidying his drawers.


Mom:Did you have a good day today Rylan?

Rylan: Yeah. I went to nursery.

Mom: What did you learn about in nursery?

Rylan: Jesus and toys. But I wasn't reverent. I was mean.

Mom: Were you mean in nursery or just in Sacrament meeting when I took you out?

Rylan: We went in that room and you held me and we sat on the ground*

Mom: Yeah, we did. But then you decided you wanted to be nice, remember?

Rylan: But I was mean.

Mom: Well, for a while you were being mean, but you're such a nice boy, you decided to be nice and we went back in. We got to sit next to Dad and Evie, and eat pretzels, and read that book. Wasn't that fun?

Rylan: I held your hand and we went back in. **

*When he started acting up in Sacrament Meeting (saying, "I don't want to be nice, I want to be mean" and then hitting Evie) I took him out. In order to make it an appropriate consequence and not a reward, we went into an empty room and he sat on the ground in my lap. I was trying to make it as boring as possible. It was memorably boring, apparently.

**This was a huge deal. He had to hold my hand by himself and choose to go back in, being nice the whole time. I wasn't going to carry him in so he could throw a fit as soon as I sat down. We had to try three times before he could walk all the way in by himself, holding my hand.

I tried to leave the pretty thoughts on top, "beautifully aired,...ready for [him] to put on."

He's such a good kid, and remembers and digests SO MUCH. Those wheels are always turning. I love that boy.

P.S. Yesterday whenever Evie started fussing, all we had to do was turn her around and let her flirt with the girls behind us and she was just fine. Such a social butterfly, that one. Sweet and gorgeous to boot.

Like toes squelching in mud

I have a sister in law who I absolutely adore. She is an artist, a writer, an adventurer, and a taster of life. Despite her zest, I have never met anyone so purely unaffected. All she is and does, though confident and sure, is laced with a sweet grace and kindness that does not dim but only accentuates and gives air to her [joy de vive]. What a woman!

Anywho, she recently posted on her blog about her love of words and her running list of favorite words, a pet collection she brings out to play with, pairing them together to see what fascinating reactions they can conjure and ideas they can elicit.

This does not surprise me in the least. Reading her work is like squishing your toes in dark, cool mud: Earthy, pleasant, and ultimately all about the sensation. Her words touch your brain, working their way in and squelching in and out of the different receptive spaces. She writes poetry, novels, and short stories, and in all cases her words are a pleasure to experience. In honor of her (and because she requested it on her blog) I am going to start my own list. It will start off short (extremely short, especially because it is almost midnight and I have to get up early), but a running list is allowed to begin sparse.
Here goes:
clarion
squelch
Elysian
raucous
mug (doesn't that just sound so solid and stable? I can hear the sound of a mug hitting the table every time I say it)
idiosyncratic

I know I have more, but to sleep I must go.

Rhapsody in Blue

I've sat down a dozen times to write this post, typed out one hundred thoughts.

And yet sometimes moments of magnitude are best laid out in their simplicity.

I sat down and listened, and my life was changed. Music, which had been my bread and butter, became my nectar. It had been my emotion, and now it became my thought. It had been my stability, and now it became my passion. Never have I experienced music the way I experienced Rhapsody in Blue. It opened a new dimension of perfection, taught me again that there are worlds within worlds.

Where will this take us, myself and these people in my little kingdom?

I sat down and our little river changed course.

My Own Adventure

Last night, I was sitting in bed reading blogs of loved ones far away.

Trevor has two siblings that are spending a year abroad for their studies. Both are married, and keep us posted via that wonderful invention, the blog. Both are waiting to start their families until they return home and are living their couplehood to the hilt, enjoying their time with each other as they take full advantage of their exotic adventures.

To be quite frank, as I read I was getting a wee bit jealous. I knew that we made the right decision to have our children when we did, and I am passionately in love with my kids, but the What Ifs were dancing around my head. What If we had waited a bit longer to have kids? What If we had gone on our own exotic adventure, or even just traveled while living here, childless and fancy free? What If we had been able to spend that much time with each other, learning and experiencing new places and cultures? Confident, however, that even if I followed the What Ifs my decision would ring true, I walked down that windy path. This is where my What-Ifs left me:

We would have had a wonderful time. There is no doubt we would have thoroughly enjoyed that time together.

We would probably have a lot more money.

All our lives we would have been able to draw from those experiences.

And yet I feel so, so, grateful for the guidance of the spirit. I understand that every couple is in a different situation and may receive a different answer to this question. I am sharing how grateful I am that I followed my answer. I will have just as much time for that form of exploration as they will, I have just done it in a different order, and that, for me, is a blessing.

For me, being a mother sooner has meant more time with my children. It occurred to me that if, theoretically, we all live 80 years and spend 25 of those years rearing children, the only thing that will be different is where those 25 years are placed in the life span and how much of our life we get to spend with our children. I will still have plenty of time with Trevor, plenty of time for adventure, but it will just be after our kids are grown. The difference, however, is that in choosing to have our family sooner, every year we didn't wait is an extra year that we will be able to enjoy our children (and grandchildren, Trevor adds). I wouldn't trade that away for all the spice of India.

For me, being a mother sooner has meant more bonding with Trevor, not less. We have found more mutual delight in our children than anything else we have ever experienced. If we do have less time together, we also certainly treasure the time we have more. There will be time for adventure later, and our relationship will be richer and the time more meaningful because of our shared history as parents.

For me, being a mother sooner has meant more years of meaningful introspection and self-improvement. Some people need that extra time before children to find themselves. I needed motherhood to find myself.

Before I had children, and especially before I was married, I was so hell-bent on experiencing life to the fullest that I stuffed it with every good and appealing thing. I was happy, but I don't think I had much true joy. I wasn't actually digesting anything I was doing because I was too busy doing it. What a marvel it was to me when I had Rylan. Life slowed down and suddenly I had time to think, time to savor. Impressions that came to me became lasting impressions because I had more time to fully act on them. I finally understood what it was to ponder because there was enough stillness in my life to do so.

Suddenly, the consequences of my actions were amplified. As queen of my home and caretaker of this child, I molded the spiritual environment he was nurtured in. Suddenly, being in a bad mood didn't only affect me. It affected an innocent baby, who unlike Trevor wasn't an emotionally independent adult. Being angry, or impatient, or unkind had a formative impact on him. Motherhood formed a magnifying mirror and I saw all the blemishes in my behavior up close and personal. I also saw how much love I was capable of, and it gave me hope, and a greater understanding of the Atonement.

Having my family sooner means my life is more focused on the plan of salvation. I have become convinced that there is divine intent in the pace of motherhood. Though our hands are often busy, our minds are often left free. Many women (myself included) have complained about this from time to time, but I think the Lord knew we would need all of our mental faculties available to focus on teaching our children the essential principles they need to know to reach their full potential in this crazy world. Teaching my young children about who they are and where they can go is a constant reminder to myself of my own eternal nature.

Motherhood has changed who I am, and I like the change. Even if I had had adventures that I could have thought back on for an extra two decades, I feel like I've had a head start on becoming who I was meant to be-- not just something to draw on in an anecdote here or an experience there. It is the foundation of everything I will do for the rest of my life. And I like the way that looks.

It's a beautiful thing when the path of What Ifs leaves you so aware of the tendermercies of a loving Father in Heaven.

I am so grateful.

My Life in a Nutshell

I'm cleaning my room and decided to pause and document all of the books cascading from my bedside table for the sake of posterity. Having this many books is totally typical, and they are always rotating. Here we go:

Peter Pan (completely delightful and engaging. Reading it to Rylan)
The Agony and the Ecstasy (bio of Michelangelo, just finished. Phenomenal)
Three Cups of Tea (Reading for a book club on Wednesday)
Peek-a-WHO? (Evie's book)
The Lonesome Gods (rec by TJEders, somewhat disappointing)
The Shop on Blossom Street (Candy read, need to return)
Schindler's List (Slow, uninspiring, not worth finishing, giving to DI)
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (reading a chapter here and there, fun)
The Closing of the American Mind (parenthesis are getting old)
National Gallery of Art full color copy reproductions
Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain
Drawing on the Artist Within
5 art books in full color lent to me by Jamie with works picked out to reproduce
A Hymn Book
Martha Stewart Living, May issue
Book of Mormon
Bible
Nutrition textbook
Biology textbook
Anatomy and Physiology Textbook
Mother and Child in Art
Thomas Paine:Enlightenment, Revolution and the Birth of Nations
The Lost Language of Symbolism
Paradise Lost
How Children Learn
The Power of Positive Parenting

Next time anyone asks me what I'm up to these days, I'll refer them to this list.