The first winter we lived here in Franklin, it snowed. And I was sick. I had a fever and had to stay in my bed. We were living at the Inn and my third floor bedroom overlooked the hill. I loved the view from my frosty window. Then the other children started sledding. Their joyous rides left my pristine hill scarred. I was partly jealous of the fun they were having while I was stuck in bed, but I was even more upset that their fun ruined my real life Christmas card view. I was selfish, an adolescent trait I like to think I've outgrown.

Today I took my kids and my sister out in the snow. We had about 10 inches of powdery fluff covering our backyard. It was untouched and beautiful. And they left it scarred and pock-marked. I forewent the sledding and instead watched them pile in and tumble out, squealing and giggling. And I realized I was grinning. Like an idiot. (Despite the lack of feeling in my extremities.)

I just started writing this, hoping that the theme would come to me while I typed. It didn't. Maybe it's about the joy in life's messes. Maybe it's about finding fulfillment in the happiness of others. Maybe it's just about snow.

This is a story dictated to me by Cora:

Princess Twinklebear

There once was a panda princess named Twinklebear. She got married and lived in a castle. She put her new crown on. It was a gold crown, with pink jewels. She looked out the window and she saw birds. They flew in the castle and out the other window. They stole the jewels off of her crown. So Twinklebear said “You give those back!” and she put her paws on her hips. She was not happy. And the birds put them back on the crown. The birds flew out the window and said “Mom! Mom! There was a princess in the castle!” So the Mom bird and the Dad bird flew to the castle as fast as they could and took the whole entire crown. Twinklebear said “Give that back right this very minute!” with her paws on her hips. The birds put it back on her head and flew back to their nest, but it was gone. The squirrels took their nest and put it in their hole and put acorns and nuts in it. The birds had to sleep in the castle for a quick nap. Twinklebear had wings on her elbows and she flew to the squirrels hole. She got the nest and dumped the acorns and nuts out. Then she flew back to her castle and put it on her bed. She said, “Birds! Birds! I found your nest.” They came to her bed and took the nest and put it back on their tree.

The End

This was Levi's:

Navigator

One day there was a boy named Levi. He loved space adventure. He built his own spacecraft. It looked like a giant metal octopus. It was very shiny. He took his pet chihuahua, Puck, with him on adventures.

He liked to visit Pluto, even though it's not a planet anymore. They always went in tunnels on Pluto. In the tunnels, they found ice crystals, because Pluto is very cold. There were also ice aliens. They shot ice out of their hands, and tried to freeze Levi and Puck and keep them on Pluto forever. But Levi and Puck had suits that repel the ice. And they were very quick.

After they were done on Pluto they go to Venus. On Venus they checked out the volcanoes and the lava. There were also aliens that threw fireballs at Levi and Puck. But they had fireproof suits too.

After they were done on Venus, they went to Neptune and looked at water. There were lots of kinds of creatures on Neptune. They took a creature called a germfish home in a special tank. It had a fish head with a green body that you could see through.

After Neptune, they went to a planet called Bug. There were lots of bugs. There were weird looking bugs, bugs that ate fish, bugs that ate plants and bugs that crawl all over the planet.

Levi and Puck were ready to go home. They had a good time for the rest of their lives.

The End

Cora: (singing a song about various animals, the noises they make, and what they eat)

Me: Is that a real song? Or did you just make it up?

Cora: I didn't make it up. I learned it from myself.

Wow. That is all.

Levi and Cora: Hooray the snow! It snowed! Snow!

Cora: Seriously, Mom, look outside. It snowed.

Me: ugh.

Levi: Are we going to get to play in it?

Me: Yes (a little confused, they always get to play in it)

Levi: But you hate it.

Me: I love you much more than I hate snow.

I don't really hate snow. It is very pretty. I love how it mutes the outside sounds and covers everything up with beautiful glistening white. But snow melts. And gets into my socks. And it is so cold! I will bundle up my amazing children, put on my brave face and stay out in it as long as I can, with their smiles and the promise of warm beverages to keep me going.

These are some of the reasons I think Levi is great:

He gives me a legitimate reason to play with Legos. And we have a ton of fun creating things together.

His first response when someone is hurting is to pray.

He has some crazy amazing dance moves.

He separates his m&m's by colors before eating them.

He is persistent and tenacious.

He looks out for his sister, especially when it comes to boys.

He eats everything I make and tells me that I'm the best cook ever.

He does the rubber arm run.

He likes to snuggle, and thinks he still fits in my lap. (He doesn't)

He has great taste in music.

He wanted a faux-hawk. And he rocked it.

He always "evens me out."

He loves.

I wish that I had the time to get this written by Tuesday, but I didn't. So...

Seven years (and two days) ago, my life changed in ways I couldn't even have imagined. At 2:16 in the afternoon, my life instantly became more amazing, challenging and rewarding. The most handsome baby boy ever born was placed in my arms and suddenly I had more gravity; what had held me to the earth before was nothing in comparison to the 8 pounds and 13 ounces that I was then holding. My Leaves, my Buppa, my Boy, my Handsome Pants, my son is one of the two biggest blessings of my life, and I am incredibly proud of him. I am always amazed by the way he can be both wild and protective, silly and strong, inquisitive and considerate. I am so blessed to be a part of his journey, and I can't wait to see him fulfill God's destiny.

I am absolutely in love with my kids. I realize that is basically the theme of this blog, but for some reason I felt it needed to be said. Due to my recent injury (it's a really cool story involving rock climbing, falcons, men on horses, and chasing blue sky, but this isn't the place for it) I am supposed to stay off my feet this weekend. Without my two monchichis to help me out and entertain me I would have gone completely crazy. They somehow manage to both challenge and encourage me. They provide constant insights into how I am viewed by my heavenly parent, and amaze me with their unending faith. They can ALWAYS make me laugh. In fact, that skill has gotten them out of a lot of trouble. I love my partners in silliness and I am so grateful that I get to be their mom.

In order to wake up my sweet girl, I have to snuggle and tickle and kiss her. I pull the blanket off of her and she pulls it back on (all without opening her eyes because I'm apparently very easily fooled). This process usually takes several minutes and she always insists she is way too tired for waking up.

This morning:

Me: Coooorrrraaa...

Cora: (bolts upright) It's December!!!

Me: Yup

Cora: We get to open a door today!

She was so excited about opening a door on her chocolate advent calendar. It was an incredibly simple thing: a scripture and a piece of candy. But she was thrilled. And, once again, I was challenged by my children. I tend to go through the holidays as if checking things off my to-do list. But this year, I am committed to living more like Cora, savoring each experience and getting excited about celebrating the birth of Jesus. Is there anything more worthy of my enthusiasm?

Levi: Look, there's a squirrel. I want to shoot it.

Me: Why? What has that squirrel done to you?

Levi: (long pause) You do not understand hunting.

I don't. That is an indisputable fact. Levi went on to inform me that he would, in fact, eat the squirrel after shooting a piece of metal through its little body and knocking it out of its leafy home. Gross. There is nothing about a squirrel that makes me think it should be consumed. In fact, when I think about the way meat is extracted from animals my stomach turns. I can't bear the thought of it. And I can't ignore it either. I can't just close my eyes and chew and pretend I don't know where it came from. But Levi doesn't have that same hang up. He wants to kill and eat. Thank goodness he has Dad and Grandpa Ranger.

Yesterday morning it was pouring rain. Weighty, fat drops were falling from the sky (needless to say, my hair was not straightened and very frizzy). My umbrella was, of course, in the car.

Me: We're going to have to make a run for it.

Levi: Got it! (he safely entered the vehicle)

Me: Ok, Cora, let's go!

I ran to the car, opened her door and hopped in the front seat.

Cora: Waaaaaahhhhh!

She was motionless in front of the car. I got out, hoisted her sopping wet body into her seat and shut the door.

Cora: I'm soaked!

Me: Well, you were just standing in the rain!

Cora: I wasn't just standing; I was crying too!

Cora: Why did the spider move?

Me: I don't know.

Cora: Because he wanted a new website.

Me: hysterical laughter.

This joke is not funny. But I couldn't help but laugh at the fact that Cora actually executed a joke. It took me completely by surprise, and I loved it. Bolstered by the melodic tinkling of bells that is my laughter, she tried again.

Cora: What do tigers eat?

Me: I don't know, what?

Cora: People.

This joke is incredibly funny. I almost had to pull over, I was laughing so hard. Tears were forming in the corners of my eyes. And she came up with this one on her own. Classic.

Cora: What do I get when I pitch a fit?

Me: A spanking.

Levi: That is not funny.

My two favorite comedians.

Me: Levi, how did you get so smart?

Levi: I came from a smart Mom.

Later that day:

Me: I want a mini granola bar.

Levi: Is that because you are a mini Mom?

Either he loves me way more than I deserve, and thinks I'm way more awesome than I actually am (and will be very disappointed very soon), or he really wants something. Either way, I love that boy of mine, and I'm so grateful that I get to be in his life. (also, I'm grateful for how much he encourages and uplifts me.)

Me: Ugh, I hope the kitchen fairy turns up to clean this mess.

Levi: The kitchen fairy? Is that real?

Me: I guess we'll just have to wait until the morning.

Levi the next morning: The kitchen fairy came!

This might not be that extraordinary except that Levi is a true skeptic. When he was 3, he asked me if Santa Claus was real. When he found a dollar under his pillow where his tooth used to be, he told me that he knew I put the money there. But the kitchen fairy seemed plausible to him. Presents in a stocking? Had to be Mom. Money under a pillow? Definitely Mom. A clean kitchen? Fairies are the only explanation.

Have you ever felt that peace that doesn't make sense? I am content. I really don't have a reason to be. But I am. I'm having trouble explaining it without the use of cliches or christian-ese. I just know (seriously, I KNOW) that I'm making my Father proud, that Jesus is delighting in me, and that the Holy Spirit is guiding me. I'm not saying I'm perfect, or that I've got anything figured out. I'm not and I haven't. My life is full of daily trips, fumbles and confusion. I'm just saying that right now, in this tiny little breath, I have peace that actually does transcend understanding. (That's probably because my understanding is so limited, but don't let that diminish His capabilities). It's my prayer that I hear and respond to His guidance and continue to find His peace. I am loved.

Cora: I'm going to tell God I want to stay five.

Me: Why?

Cora: I don't want to grow up.

Me: There are lots of things that you can do when you grow up. Like paint your own nails.

Cora: (trying not to smile)

Me: And learn how to drive.

Cora: I like going with you.

Me: And when you get a lot older, you can have a boyfriend.

Levi: (covering his ears)

Seriously, this happened at dinner tonight. I love that Cora isn't anxious to grow up; I know one day she will be, and right now I'm savoring her innocence, sweetness and, most of all, her happiness. She is content right where she is, and I love that about her. I adore Levi's big-brother, don't-mess-with-my-baby-sister, protective nature. He is everything I would want a big brother to be: always looking out for his girls. When I pick them up from school and ask them how their day went, he always reciprocates with, "How was work?" I love that my wild man also has such a big heart. My kids are amazing.

It seemed colder this morning. I was watching the lap swimmers (one of whom was 93) and I realized that I wasn't hot. It felt like summer was coming to its end. This evening I let the kids watch a movie and eat pizza in the living room because I realized it was the last night they would be allowed to stay up a little bit later before school started. I have always loved summer. The sun is one of my best friends. I'm dreading the cool months ahead. I know that there is beauty in the fall and winter, but I'm definitely happiest when I'm feeling the warmth of the sun and seeing the brightness even when my eyes are closed. My children are beautifully tanned and have sun streaked hair. I love it. But their white bottoms will cease to stand out as their skin returns to its normal color, and I will no longer have proof of summer. I am determined to spend as much time in the sun as I possibly can these next few weeks, before summer is just a memory.

Levi: I know the future.

Me: Oh really?

Levi: I know my future. I know that today I'm going to behave. I don't know what's going to happen, but I know that I'm going to be a good boy.

Me: dumbstruck with the profoundness of a six-year-old boy's wisdom.

This conversation might be the result of me often asking Levi, "Who do you want to be today? You get to decide if you want to be the awesome Levi that I love or the kid who acts in ways that aren't ok. It's up to you." Yesterday he decided to see his future. He was going to be Levi, and that meant behaving and being his amazing, wonderfully created self. I was incredibly challenged and encouraged by both his foresight and his faith. I definitely do not know what is going to happen this evening or tomorrow or next year. But I know that I am Sarah.

I know that I've already written a post about my amazing sister, but I'm about to write another one. She's great. She just is. She knows the perfect time to pull out a "kids incorporated" reference. And she also knows when I need someone just to listen and when I actually need advice. And she puzzles with me. Like 80-year-old women, we have a great time putting together jigsaw puzzles. As kids we used to gather around a huge Rescuers Down Under puzzle and always had the best time. To reignite our passion for puzzles, we tried to find a Twilight themed one, but had to settle for a photo-mosaic of Van Gogh's Starry Night. And it is so hard! After about two hours of intense puzzling we only got the border done. We were mildly distracted by Survivorman in the background and I'm blaming our lack of progress partly on that. But we rolled it up in our puzzle storage felt mat inflatable tube thing (that I'm sure has a real name, but I don't know what it is) and we're planning on working on it whenever we're together. Like nerds.

Yesterday, I found a puzzle piece on the floor of my bedroom. I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. Ok, that's a bit of an overstatement. But still, I was worried that if there was a piece in my room there might be some in the car, under a seat, in the driveway, or in Puck's belly. Overcome with anxiety, I immediately unrolled our puzzle from the puzzle storage felt mat inflatable tube thing (I've just decided to call it a psfmitt. The p and f are silent). In my haste, I opened it on my bed. Bad idea. The border we'd worked so hard on was in segments. I moved it to the floor to reconstruct it. I did, and found that we were a two pieces short. By this point I was near tears, but luckily found the missing pieces on my bed. I replaced them and very carefully rolled it back up in the psfmitt. I carefully stored it and I am not moving it until Melody can work on it with me. I can't wait until she gets here so we can plug in our puzzle light and hunch over tiny interlocking pieces with a Mike's in one hand and the enlarged picture of the final product in the other. Good times.

Ok...so here's a conversation I had with Levi while trying to find all natural ranch dressing:

Me: Want to try this one? It's "Cowgirl Ranch."

Levi: (with his twinkly, mischievous eyes) Is it made from actual cowgirls?

Me: No.

Levi: Then yes. (with a silly half grin)

He definitely knows how to make me laugh.

The following is a conversation I had with Cora this evening at the dinner table:

Cora: I am going to beat Levi up.

Me: What?
Cora: I am eating way faster than he is.

Me: I think you mean you're going to beat Levi.

Cora: Oh. Yeah. I ate those noodles like a fish.

Me: I don't think fish eat noodles.

Cora: I meant like a Cora-fish.

Me: Oh.

She's pretty awesome.

Ummm...yea. So, I'm not so good at blogging. But I'm going to get better...hopefully. No, I am definitely going to remember. Probably.