Desert Friends

Here are some of us at the youth temple trip. It was a good day and 5 of these youth brought family names to the temple. They like family history work and they love the temple.

I smile at the permanent connections that are forged through this service with the youth. T. Nay was a scout leader in this ward, but the first time I met him was when I was 16 and he was a scout leader with my dad. One of the women in my presidency is Lucille S’s niece. Lucille served with my mom when my mom was Young Women president. I didn’t stay in Provo, but despite this, in this tiny town we meet and continue the tapestry of our relationships with these families.

I don’t think that it is a coincidence that there are certain people in our lives with whom we learn and serve. The individual nature of Christ’s rescue and concern is evidenced in the people which seem to be hand-picked for us to meet. We need them and they need us and my obscure location matters little because the Lord finds a way to continue the ties and raise up friends and associates to help us.

Some days it feels lonely in this desert, but I just need to think about the people I know here and it doesn’t seem as barren.

What to do?

Richard

It’s Sunday, and that usually means extra church meetings for Richard and me. But today is special because it’s a rare, unscheduled 5th Sunday.

What to do?

I think I’ll take some time and reflect about the week. It was a big week.

The mornings brought seminary, school, visitors, and a trip to Tucson for some scriptures.

The afternoons involved more school, violin teaching, a bike ride with friends, grocery shopping, cleaning, playing with friends, a birthday party, and Piano Guild Auditions.

In the evenings, we had 4 baseball games, 2 practices, 3 ballet classes, one night working with the missionaries, Scout meetings, a Young Women activity, and one night out to dinner to celebrate the end of Piano Guild auditions. We had a youth temple trip all day on Saturday.

What do all of these activities have in common?

They produced a lot of laundry, my magnum opus.

I’ve learned that doing laundry provides a special key to knowledge about my family. As I empty pockets, I discover what is important to my little people. I see who played outside on the grass enough (I don’t hate grass stains. I encourage them.) and who needs to shower more often. I see evidence of baseball feats of skill, ballet workouts, weight training, bicycling (Love those mud stains up the back of the shirts…), and dirt play (which I also encourage). I can’t say that I love doing laundry, but I take pride in doing it and caring for our clothing.

We wear many clothes and play many roles, and it was a happy family reunion on Friday when our schedules eventually collided and we all met at the restaurant to celebrate a year of piano effort. The kids were dressed up in their Sunday best. Mark’s face was probably a bit sticky from birthday party food, I looked a bit bedraggled, and Richard was clad in his work outfit.

After a Saturday evening laundry marathon, the piles of laundry are neatly folded in their baskets and they smell fresh. It was a good week and now I get to enjoy this day of rest.

Thoughts on being sick

Last night I took a long walk around and around the baseball park during practice. I’m in training for a youth pioneer trek. Just call me “Ma Ross” and I’ll say, “Yes, dear? Do you need a band aid for that blister?”

On my long walk through the dust, I thought about my sister who is very ill. I wondered what I could say to help. My mind traveled back to those 3 summers in a row that I was in bed recovering from surgeries. I remembered the feelings of frustration, helplessness, and the temporary depression. I couldn’t mother; I couldn’t teach seminary anymore; I was miserable. I worried that I would never be happy again. I was lonely, but when someone would visit, we rarely talked on the deep level that I craved.

I remember each visitor and each bouquet of flowers and I was deeply touched these acts of kindness. I only felt angry about the “gratitude journal” I was given. I wasn’t ready to be grateful. I remember feeling heartbroken that I couldn’t take care of my kids. I remember the generosity of family and friends.

I learned to never tell someone, “I understand what you’re going through.” I learned to be forgiving when people said this because they meant well.

The biggest lesson I learned during these summers was that I could weather the bad stuff. Although the comfort from friends and family was cherished, the deep comfort came from within, through my choices to listen to the Spirit. I had to change the way I viewed my situation. No one else could do this for me. I had to be the one to make the choice to be thankful. No one could make me feel this. I had to accept physical limitations for a while. I admit that I did not do this very well.

During this time, I clung to Church magazines and had profound experiences reading the scriptures. The gospel was truly the only thing that could penetrate my troubled heart and mind. It was a revelatory time. I have journals to prove it. I wrote to pass the time. I wrote to record my testimony over and over. I wrote so I could remember.

For the next few weeks I’ll try to write something each day so my sister has something new to read or look at.

I love you, Susan.

I’ll choose these memories

Black light volleyball photo by Jen C.

Last week I had sad news from extended family and weird challenges sprang up around me. I felt heavy and sorrowful. On the other hand, I had good news, too, and there were opportunities for me to serve and feel needed and this made me happy.

Someday when I look back at this time in my life it will be a smudged, incoherent image because of all of the activity, but I will work to see that the good memories will rise up and be more prominent than the bad.

I will remember how Mark’s little drawings cheer me. I will remember the love I feel for the people around me, of the fun times with the Young Women playing black light volleyball and hearing them sing.

I’ll remember how I much I enjoy Richard’s dinners from the grill and chats with him during a baseball game. I’ll think of the way Timothy twirls his hair when he reads to me and how Daniel looks when he’s acting grown up and unselfish. I will remember the way the little ballerinas watch Paige sweep into the dance studio and how she smiles when Richard teases her.

I’ll remember the good people who serve my family in the community, sports, and church.

I will be grateful for a husband who lets me sleep in and remembers to kiss me goodbye every morning.

The difficult things will just serve as a counterpoint, essential in emphasizing the good and forming character, but they won’t take a prominent place on the mantel.

Now I’m going to get back to work.

A supplement idea for a boy’s curriculum

Timothy learns to change a bike tire.

 

Years ago a home school friend told me how amazing the Cub Scout and Boy Scout programs are as an educational tool. I never thought much about it until a few months ago when Timothy came up to me and told me that he wanted to earn his Bear Cub Scout rank faster than he had earned his Wolf. He had a plan for when he would work on it. He figured that since he was only required to write 3 journal entries a week, he could use the other 2 days normally dedicated to journal time to focus on Cub Scout requirements.

I love the initiative he showed here. We’ve been following his plan to work twice a week on Cub Scouts outside his normal Cub Scout meetings. Timothy is not my first Cub Scout, but I have discovered that my hesitant writer and artist will tackle all kinds of projects for scouts that he wouldn’t want to tackle if it were just for school.

I discovered that the requirements for our English program mirror some of the Cub Scout requirements to write a report and compose letters. The historical characters and locations tie in to our history studies. It’s a good supplement and Timothy likes the little badges and belt loops.

I have discovered that the Scouting program for older boys is also very good because it teaches Daniel to take the initiative and I like that a mentor (a merit badge counselor) helps him through each merit badge. Writing, leadership, reading, and research are great supplemental activities to what I try to teach at school, and you can’t beat the incentive of merit badges.

Which reminds me, I am very behind in attaching all of those merit badges. Scouting keeps me on my toes, too, which is why I fully deserve those mother’s pins they give out when a boy achieves a rank.

Quiet: the Power of Introverts

Have you heard about this book by Susan Cain? I debated about reading it because I don’t really go for psychobabble or New York Times best sellers.

Finally, I succumbed and read it. It took me a while to get through it because she gave me a lot to think about. She was writing about ME. Memories from my childhood, of my decisions, my strengths and weaknesses, and our decision about home school demanded some think time after each reading session. Through my reading, I found some validation in my choices to avoid crowds and to facilitate a quiet learning environment for my children. I repeat: this book was ALL ABOUT ME.

The words about sensitivity and brain function were interesting. Introverts appear to have more complex thinking processes. It can take a little longer for an introvert to speak, but it’s worth the wait. Too few people understand this. They mistake hesitation for timidity or worse.

Introverts are often more sensitive to sounds, lights, tastes, and the feelings of others. No wonder these sensitive people feel overloaded after a day of school, 3 hours of church, shopping, or a party.

Personality has not always been a part of our vocabulary. Schools that once emphasized character now focus on personality and social development. But what about the 30-50% of the students who do not work well in group environments? What about those students who prefer reflection over conversation? What effect does this hyper-focus on speaking as a measure of intelligence have on quiet people?

What about the 30-50% of people who are introverts who must work in offices with open floor plans to facilitate group thinking, and for whom this social environment is exhausting? Although studies indicate that decisions made by groups (or most likely, the most vocal in the groups) are poorer than those decisions made by thoughtful people in a quiet environment, it seems that our culture still values the talkers over the non-talkers.

Where do you find the introverts at a family cabin? In the nooks and crannies. They are often misunderstood as aloof, unfeeling, and antisocial. Introverts are social and need social interaction, but on a deeper level. Small talk is exhausting; a deep, private conversation about ideas fuels an introvert.

Introverts can be especially powerful. Ghandi and Mother Theresa were introverts. Their leadership wasn’t about charisma. It was about conviction. An introvert can do amazing things, especially if they feel strongly about these things.

The book’s flaws are some sweeping generalizations (although the author tries very hard to tell us she’s trying to avoid them) and a frustratingly shallow description of the strengths of extroverts. The book’s strengths are the windows into brain function research and the historical and cultural perspective on how extroversion became the Western Ideal.

Here’s my soap box message:

A quiet child is not necessarily scared or confused and those labels, such as “timid” and “shy” do more damage than you can imagine, especially if that introverted child is also sensitive. And just because a quiet child doesn’t talk much doesn’t mean there isn’t a lot going on inside. We can help them express themselves without making them feel like they are less capable.

I had $100

Richard received a bonus from work last month. He said that we should have fun with some of it. It was decided that each of us would take $100 and spend it any way we wanted and without guilt.

I bought a shop vacuum to power my hovercraft and (ahem) clean our house.

I also bought this desk and hutch at a second hand shop. It’s an Ethan Allen piece and the paneling will probably be painted a beautiful robin’s egg blue or papered with some delightful pattern. Most likely it will stay as it is until one of my sisters makes her way down to help me finish the project.

10 Years Ago Today

I took Paige and Daniel to Georgetown, Texas for lunch and ice cream at the Courthouse Cafe. It was Grandma Carol’s birthday and we were celebrating, despite the fact that the birthday girl was several states away.

Yesterday Richard and I sat in church and looked up at these two kids sitting on the stand. Paige was giving a talk and Daniel was the Bishop’s messenger for the day. They’re growing up and they still have that happy light in their countenances.

Happy Birthday, Grandma Carol!