Dear Camille and Grace,

Bonjour!  We are in Paris now.  It is a beautiful city, I think that you would like it.  There are lots of things to see, and I think that my favorite parts are the trees.  We have been getting along well, although not being able to speak French scares us a little bit.  Sometimes we wish that Clark was here along with you, because he is so bold and doesn't mind asking people questions.  But, we know that he is having fun with Jill, and we wouldn't want to tear him away from that.

 This is us.  In case you forgot what we looked like.  I like how Camille is wiggling her tooth-  I can't wait to see your new tooth hole!

 Here's dad waltzing through a path of trees.

 Here's us in a garden called the Tuilieries.

 A playground that you might like

 A carousel for Clark.

 Me eating mango ice cream.  Yum yum!

 The Notre Dame Cathedral 

Way off in the distance is the Eiffel Tower.  We'll have to go closer maybe later today!

I love you!  I hope that your chorus concert was great and that you're having a lot of fun!

Love,

Mom and Dad

High Tide

Tonight when he was drinking his milk, Clark somehow managed to spill half the cup all over himself.  When I asked him what happened, he said, "well, I was drinking my milk and then the tide just came in!"

After that he asked me what "tide" meant, as if he wanted to make sure that he understood it correctly after a Curious George book that we read.  I think he's confident that he used the term correctly, and perhaps the moon is in the right phase for a high milk tide after all.

Is This Shirt too Weird?

I made this shirt, but now I'm wondering if it's wearable.  I need your honest opinion.  Here are the things that I am concerned about (besides the messy living room and lack of picture taking skills):

Not having the floral patterns in the middle of the shirt- my abdomen bisecting or being bisected by the obvious lines of the pattern on the material.

 I thought it would be a fun type funky, but maybe the patterned front and the solid back just don't go?

I like the v on the back, but I'm worried about my chub.

Maybe I've talked myself out of it already!  But, I hate giving up something that I made- it's not like I can just take it back to the store.  What do you think?  You can vote on the sidebar or leave a comment.

The Best Mother's Day Present

   The girls' school is having an auction, and one of the very creative moms in their class is making a quilt.  (I think their squares are the bottom 2 squares.  It's a little hard to see.)  Each child is in charge of drawing a quilt square that represents what they want to be when they grow up.  Here is a list of each child's answer (I highlighted my girl's answers so you can find them easily):

 

Miles: soccer player

Megan: teacher

Severn: race car driver and game creator

Lily: doctor

Alyssa: doctor

Axel: farmer

Gracie: builder or teacher

Marco: police officer

Josie: nurse

Daniel: FBI agent

Isabella: teacher

Xander: paleontologist

Holden: soccer player

Jayden: basketball player

Isaac: construction worker

Grace S: doctor

Bethany: dog walker

Andrew: police officer

Ava: Art teacher

Spencer: architect

Izaan: race car driver

Camille: mother

Grace: mother

Andrea: "in charge of the pool"

Tyler:  "take care of children"

 

   I'm not sure what I would have answered when I was in Kindergarten.  As far as I can remember, though, I never thought that "mom" was the right answer.  Not because my mom wasn't a wonderful mother- she definitely molded me into the mom that I am today.  I thought, though, that a career was the most important thing.  Even when I started college, being a mom, and only a mom, seemed like something that would be the worst possible outcome.  Staying at home, just taking care of my kids seemed like it would put a huge damper on my personal development, not to mention how horribly depressing and mundane it would be.  I'm thankful that I married Paul- the most supportive person, who encourages me to grow, even beyond the bounds of family life.

   To tell the truth, there have been periods in my life as mom and a stay-at-home mom at that that have been horribly mundane and depressing.  My personal development has been hampered in some ways.  But, motherhood has far exceeded my wildest dreams in terms of fulfillment.  Sure, I wish that things were easier sometimes, or that I had more time for "me" and less time for de-cluttering the house and regulating my children.  But, I'm glad that my girls feel that "mother" as a profession and a calling is something to happily anticipate.  Apparently I'm not always the drudge that I sometimes feel like, and they can see past my frustrations and feel my love and joy instead.  Motherhood and the gift of eternal family has been the greatest gift and blessing in my life, and I'm so thankful that I get to share each day with Paul, Camille, Grace, and Clark.

Sometimes Even Clowns Need to Cry

I've been encouraging Clark to pick out his own clothes lately.  It has been nice having autonomy over how he dresses, since I can make him look the way I think is cool, but since his sisters were already dressing themselves at this age, I figured that it was time for him to learn some more skills.

Of course the problem with letting your children pick out their own clothes is the weird combinations that they come up with some pretty wild stuff.  My girls still have a strong sense of "personal style" (wonder where they get that from?) and it shows.

Today Clark chose "clown costume" for his clothes after much deliberation.  He finally got dressed and came out to find a smoothie already made for him.  This upset him because he likes to hand pick the frozen fruit that goes into his smoothie, so he had a tantrum for about 15 minutes about it.  When we pointed out that clowns don't cry- that their purpose is to make other people laugh, he pouted, "but if they had a problem, then clowns could cry!"  You can't argue with that logic.  And he got his laugh without even meaning to.

Eight Days?

I could use an extra day this week.  Do you ever feel like that?  Too many things going on!  Either an extra day or a robot Sarah.

I was driving a high school friend to seminary this morning and she was talking about conflicts in her summer schedule.  She has cheer camp the same time as the youth trip.  She wants a robot for each of the camps, and she would choose to sleep herself.  I would always choose sleep over anything else- even fun things most of the time.  It's nice that a teenager feels the same as this old fuddy duddy, at least some of the time!

Good Thing He's So Cute

So, Clark is my charming 3-year-old.  As with most threes, he says hilarious stuff that I have to repeat to everyone I meet.  You see, making the stories funny saves my sanity (and saves him from injury too, I'm sure.)

Today I was rushing to pick the girls up from school.  I took Clark to the bathroom and was frantically rushing around looking for my keys.  I remembered putting them on the counter where I usually leave them, but they just weren't there.  I asked Clark if he had taken them.  A few days ago he lost a library CD which we still haven't found, so it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that he would take my keys.  The following, in play form, will allow you to re-enact the scene in the comfort of your own home:

Me:  Clark, I can't find the keys.  We're late getting the girls.  Did you take the keys?
Clark:  Yep.  I must have taken them.
M:  Why would you take them Clark?  Where did you put them?
C:  I must slowly investigate.  [wanders around the house craning his neck in unusual ways]
M:  Clark, it's a little too slowly.  We're super late to get the girls.  Where did you put the keys.
C:  I must slowly investigate.  [continues wandering.]
M:  [thinking aloud]  We're never going to find the keys.  And school just let out 1 minute ago.
M:  Clark!!!  Where are the keys?!!?

We couldn't find them anywhere, no thanks to the neck craning, so I put on my running shoes, grabbed the jogging stroller, and ran to school, saying a prayer that the girls would be okay.  I am so out of shape, those 6 blocks of mostly sprinting were pretty pathetic and totally winded me.  Fortunately the girls were still in their classroom and not waiting for me in the office.  When we got home, after much moaning and groaning, I offered a candy bar to whoever found the keys.  I said a prayer that we'd be able to find them, and remembered that I had left them in the bathroom when I was helping Clark before we started frantically searching for the keys.  Grace got a candy bar for retrieving them.  I got one for running 6 blocks.  When I asked Clark why he said he had taken the keys when he really hadn't, he said, "I don't know."

My next story is just sweet, not frustrating.  Clark was cuddled up in my lap the other day and he said, "we spend a lot of time together, don't we?"  I said, "We're just best friends, aren't we?" and he snuggled closer.