"The best night I ever sawn"--Abigail

After much delay and procrastination, and despite a load of unfilled Etsy orders and a really messy house, tonight we put up our Halloween decorations. My kids would say our "fall" decorations, and they are right, I am not much of a Halloween decorator. Luckily after they unloaded all the decorations onto the rug and found them lacking, Warren and Abigail decided to make their own "homemade decorations, the best kind," as Warren said knowingly. This is is pumpkin with chicken pox. (Really, that's what he said)

About 9:00, Warren got hungry and I had wanted chocolate chip cookies all day, so we turned on some Halloween music and made cookies. I let them eat at least 5 "dough balls" each. They relish the opportunities to pour, to stir, to crack eggs.

Pretty soon after we put the cookies in the oven, Warren fell asleep on the couch. Abigail, however was still going strong. She decorated the Thankful tree with all the paper leaves on hooks, and she was so starry-eyed over the whole thing, you'd have thought she was decorating the Christmas tree. Really, she was almost crying she was so happy. The whole night she kept saying things like, "This is the best night I ever sawn"; "This is the best night ever" (at least 6 times and even as she was cleaning); "Mom, I'm going to have to tell the Yuma cousins about this night" (me and the kids are going to Yuma tomorrow); "This night feels just like Halloween"; "This is the most perfect night ever." Really. I did not make any of those up. My favorite moment was, "I'm happy with the way I am. I bet you're happy with the way you are, too, Mom. (Pause) Because that's the way God made us."

She made me this heart and said it was the best heart she had ever made. This picture pretty much captures the night for her--full of love and homemade fun. At the end of all the moving stuff around on the shelves to make room for the Fall decor, a plaque I made that reads "A home of peace, righteousness, spirituality, fun and laughter" was lying on the couch, homeless. Abigail found it and placed it on the mantel, right in the center (but not until after I had taken the picture below.) She didn't know what it said, but it had special meaning for me, like a "They lived happily ever after" at the end of a story.

THE END

Family Pictures

It's that time of year again--family picture time. Now I know this is a phrase that often causes more cringing than smiling, but not at our house. My dear friend Tiffany has done our photos for two years now, and she is so acommodating and open to ideas and delightful. Like today, I brought along violins, childrens books, a chapter book, paper airplanes and dancing clothes to use in our photographs. I wanted them to really reflect what life is like for our family right now--what we spend our together time doing. So for 2.5 hours Abigail and I practiced violin, Andy read to Avery, Warren threw paper airplanes, Madeleine crawled in the grass, Abigail danced around the landscaping, Warren and I read our chapter book together, all while Tiffany took pictures. It was mostly fun--like living our everyday life, but with a better background (we went to the MAC since it is so close to our house and has special ties to Mesa for us, which I like.)
Warren actually had the idea for this picture, and asked if he could hug me for it. I love that, and I love that to me it signifies a good step forward in our relationship as of late. I have really tried to make more "deposits" in Warren's account than "withdrawals", and I have had more joyful, sweet moments with him as a result. To me, this picture personifies that.
Afterward, on Abigail's suggestion and a family vote, we went to Organ Stop Pizza. The kids all loved it--even Madeleine--and they played Andy's request of "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious", which is the current favorite of my kids. It was a night of fun memories.

(If you want Tiffany to do your photos, email her here: tiffanyannphotography@live.com)

Paper Dreams Taking Flight

3 weeks and 4 days ago Warren came home from school with a new interest; no, that word is not strong enough. Maybe fascination, passion or life's purpose is more appropriate. Paper airplanes. We immediately went to the library, where we checked out 3 books on the subject. Truthfully, he didn't do many of the designs in the book, but he loves to look at them, make the same few models over and over again, occasionally try a new one from a book, or make up his own. Watching this process is like watching a step-by-step tutorial on how to develop creativity: start with the basics--the things everyone knows, and do them over and over again. Then when your mind is free from having to think about the basics, the creativity flows. All of these "creations" are taped to Warren's headboard, where, I imagine, he dreams about paper airplanes at night.
He likes them so much that 2. weeks ago, he bought a ream of paper with his money. I saw it tonight, and I think only about 1/3 of it is left. Then when you add in all the paper he uses at school--he has brought home 3 bags FULL this week--you begin to get an idea of how much he loves paper airplanes. His second purchase was a paper airplane book from Amazon.com. I'm grateful that he has something worthwhile to spend his money on--as opposed to the Dollar store. And we are learning about basic principles of flight. And it really is fun to throw paper airplanes, and even more fun to see his face light up as they take flight, a vision in his mind, now soaring through the air.

In other Warren-related news, last week he spontaneously challenged Andy to "race him reading the Book of Mormon." He delightedly commented, "Yeah dad, I am so going to beat you, because I could read at recess, at reading time, at school, at night and you have to work all day!" Well, he has yet to read at school--it's pretty complicated reading for an almost 6.5 year old to do alone and silently--but we read together every night. He reads a verse, and then I read four. He loves that multiplier, and thinks he is getting the best of me when he reads 4 verses and I "have to" read 16. I think I really get the best deal of all: a time each night to practice reading, snuggle close and share my testimony. Another paper dream taking flight.

Warren Stories

I just gave Warren a kiss on the ear as he lay in bed. He said, "You probably don't want to kiss my ear because my earwax tastes bad." "I bet it does; how do you know it tastes bad?" I queried. The earnestly spoken reply came, "Because I tried some once with a booger and it tasted awful."

On Friday after school Warren and I were talking, and he said, "S0-and-so said I was weird and then So-and-so-2 said I was a Fruit Loop." He was clearly offended. We talked for a while and it was a really good conversation. A few points we covered:

• When we believe the unkind things people say, we are unhappy. We don't have to believe what people say, especially if we know ourselves to be different.
• Sometimes someone else's bad behavior makes us think we can excuse our own bad behavior. I pointed out to Warren I was grateful he didn't return the unkind words.
• The "unkind" labels we are given can be helpful. For example, Warren was saying "Goo-goo gah-gah" repeatedly when this episode took place. By his own admission, that is a little strange to be doing to another big kid at school, but would be appropriate to say to his baby sister.
• We role-played cheery responses he could give if this happened again, like if someone calls him weird, "Thanks, you should try it some time!" He laughed at the silly things I came up with.
  

When my kids come to me with the "wrongs" others have done them, I try to let my first response be, "Have you forgiven them yet?" I hope that they will internalize the idea that forgiveness will bring them the comfort and healing they seek. We ended talking about Jesus and how people perceived him. I pointed out that when we return unkindness with kindness, we get the chance to be more like Jesus. (Still I was a little sad for Warren, because he is not quite your normal 6 year old and that might cause some bumps in his road. And I was extra glad that I had made really yummy cookies for snack that day.)

Warren is so into paper airplanes right now. Last week with his own money he bought a ream of paper to support this habit. He brings them home from school by the dozens. We have checked out 3 library books about them. On Friday afternoon, while the girls napped, he and I had a lesson in aerodynamics from one of the books and I loved watching Warren reason in his mind about the point to which the book was leading. As we studied the shape of wings--flat on bottom, curved on top--and read that the air traveling over and under them reaches the back of the wing at the same time, he was able to deduce that the air traveling over the wing had a further distance to go than the air traveling under the wing, and thus, must be moving faster. Then we learned that this creates greater sideways pressure under the wing, i.e. more lift. We folded a new paper airplane and he got so excited when he realized that the shape of it's wings functioned according to this principle. I am really grateful for the education I am gaining as a mother.

In the primary program today, Warren recited Matthew 16:19: I will give unto the the keys of the kingdom; that whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shalt be bound on heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.
I was grateful for the opportunity memorizing this scripture gave us to talk about how our family is sealed for eternity because that sealing power to "bind in heaven" is on earth again, and availbale to all who are sealed in the temple, God's house. I also loved how he pronounced "loose" as "lose" and "loosed" as "loozed."

Speaking of "loozed," Warren "loozed" another tooth this week. He asked me with a big grin on his face, "Mom, does the tooth fairy really come and put money under my pillow, or is it you?" I said it was me. He followed up with, "Is it really you putting toys in my stocking, or does Santa?" I told him we could talk about that in his room, so we went in alone and I told him it was me. He was delighted to think that I was the one who put all those toys there. The cute thing is, I think he still believes in Santa, just acknowledges that I give him the toys, because he said, wide-eyed, "Some of the kids at my school don't believe there is a Santa." (Last time Warren lost a tooth, we were in Washington, and the tooth got lost before he could get it under his pillow. Warren wrote the saddest little note informing the tooth fairy: "I lost my tuth. Can I stil hav my dolr pleez?" (I lost my tooth. Can I still have my dollar please?)

I know I've made a lot of mistakes with Warren, especially because he spoke so well at such a young age. I often thought--and think--that he could/can do things far beyond his stage of development. Like chores. I expected him to do so many things on his own, efficiently and correctly, at a very young age. Now I'm starting over and having him empty the house recycling bin every day. It has been successful so far, with no tension between us. The more I learn to take Warren at his pace, the more I enjoy him and the more he opens his mind to me.

The Same Sociality

"We do not need a catastrophic event to remind us how fluid we are, how strong and fascinating.

We need merely look in the mirror....and seize every opportunity we can."

I read these words on my friend Meg's blog tonight. I was moved by their beauty. They are especially poignant in light of my evening, spent gathered with my extended family at my parent's home for dinner and visiting. It was a loud, boisterous gathering, full with people I hadn't seen for years, for months, for weeks and some that I see everyday. There are still more coming tomorrow. The reason? Grandpa's funeral. This is probably the closest thing to a Lewis Family Reunion we've had for 15 years. And it was beautiful. People hugging, laughing, crying, chasing kids, practicing songs, filling bags of seeds, conversing over food, jumping on the trampoline, sharing stories and memories, being re-introduced, pointing out who belonged to whom, connecting. Really connecting. Noticeably absent were people's cell phones. I don't think I saw a text get sent, and only one person talking on his cell phone (and that is because he has an out of state girlfriend :) I sat at a table, observing the richness of life swirling around me, reveling in the normalcy of it all, smiling at the pleasure of watching unique interactions light up all around me, then shift, like one of those splash pad fountains where the water keeps coming up from the ground at unexpected places, but always bubbling up with joy. I was impressed that the reason we had all these connections, was because all of our common, yet individual, connection to Grandpa. It was astounding, the variety of people he brought together, the way he united all us disparate souls under the banner of family.
Still, I know he struggled. He didn't see himself as some great success. Just last September, when he first started dialysis he wrote this in a letter to his children:

"Every thing was okay until I came out of the anesthetic. I had a bad case of: Poor me’s I was thinking what a failure I have been, I have been a quitter all my life, always looking for the easier way. I’ve screwed up three marriages, I haven’t made a fortune to leave my kids, I did not finish college, I did not go on a mission as a young man, I did not seek higher employment. So many things I could have done better."

But then, after a few paragraphs, he ends as follows:

"My patriarchal blessing says that I would have good health until my mission on earth was finished and I’m not sure what my mission is or was. I do know that I am the father of seven fantastic kids. It pleasures me more to see what type of parents you all are after the poor example I was to you. In every letter your grandma Lewis sent me, she always bore testimony of God and Jesus Christ and it bugged me until I got my own testimony of them. In earthly things I don’t have much, but the knowledge I have that we are God’s kids and that we will remain an eternal family."

If Grandpa saw us all gathered tonight, then I know he must be happy. If he gets to see all those gathered tomorrow for his funeral, I know he will be happy, seeing all of "God's kids" that He loved as "God's kids." I once asked him, "How do you love all these people, especially when some of them have done really awful things?" He shared a short parable of sorts, then summed it up, "If you love me, love my kids."

If you love God, you will love His children. We will see God in the face of every person we encounter. And because we have seen his face before, we will recognize it when He comes again. This belief was at the heart of Grandpa's testimony.

Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?

When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?

Or when saw we thee ^asick, or in prison, and came unto thee?

And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have ^adone it unto one of the ^bleast of these my ^cbrethren, ye have done it unto me.
Matt. 25:37-40

When the Savior shall ^aappear we shall see him as he is. We shall see that he is a ^bman like ourselves.

And that same ^asociality which exists among us here will exist among us there, only it will be coupled with ^beternal glory, which glory we do not now enjoy.

Doctrine and Covenants 130:1-2

Where is Heaven is it very far? I would like to know if it's beyond the brightest star? I've a feeling that it's not so far: when you're with the ones you love, it's right where you are.

(Primary Children's songbook, "Where is Heaven?")