Merry-Go-Round

I worry about Abrahm a lot. He's always been such an independent child; happy to be on his own and always quietly wandering off. Because of that and because he's in the middle of two very boisterous, high maintenance groups of children he is often unintentionally neglected. I'm sure that often he thinks that is to his benefit as he is often playing outside with friends for awhile before I realize that he hasn't yet done his responsibilities. I most often worry about him in the evenings. I'm always so busy trying to get the twins down and then bouncing from teen to teen with concerns or plans or questions or their need to chat that by the time I make it up to Abe he has read himself a story and fallen asleep. He doesn't act like a neglected child but he is so lovingly expressive that I have that mother guilt about not being more attentive to the wheel that never squeaks. Thursday night my concerns came to a head. As is very common, I found a "love" note from Abe in my bedroom, when I finally made it there. The note was written at the bottom of a drawing of the fantasy blueprints for his future home. It was more like an enormous, modern castle with pool, game, and t.v. rooms, servants, 20 extra bedrooms etc., but what caught my eye most was the bedroom labeling. One for him, one for his friend next door, and at the opposite side of the house, two separate bedrooms which were labeled "wife #1", "wife #2". I questioned Abe about it in the morning, and he didn't see any reason for concern, so I said, "Abe, you know that having more than one wife is illegal, right?!" He was completely enlightened by that knowledge, so I went on, "Abe, you know that for now and unless specifically commanded, it is also against Heavenly Fathers law too, right?!" That also seemed to be a revelation to him, so I went ahead and explained, that it was also definitely against our family rules. Unfazed, as if he had just learned a fact out of an encyclopedia, he took the paper and erased the labels, leaving only wife #1. For an eight year old boy, who has more factual information in his head than all of the rest of us, excluding Fred, put together, he has missed picking up on a few important facts. Now I am worried about what else he has missed, and our born again Christian neighbors apprehensive behaviors toward us are all becoming clearer to me;-)

I am yearning for the sun! All these gray, cloudy skies, and this cold that burrows in, are draining my motivation for being "up and doing". It's only January and I want to be digging in the dirt, with the sun pelting my back, but I have to work up the courage just to open the sliding glass door to give Olive her breakfast in the morning;-) I think we're all feeling a little couped up, except Abe, of course. We're not much of a cold weather kind of family I guess, unless there is snow. That must be why we're going though books like water. Even Jordan, who has 102 other things to be doing is reading of his own accord, and Fred is reading "Song of Years"(my all time favorite book since I was 14). It's not a "Fred" kind of book, so I was surprised when he asked me where it was. He said he just wanted to see what it was that I've loved so much all these years. Is that sweet or what. We've seen "Fireproof" twice on the big screen now and I think he's putting thoughts into action. I need to follow his selfless example and do something just because Fred loves it, and not because I have something else personal to gain. He's a good husband.

Mikayla and Eden have spent the last month trying to slowly "grow up" their bedroom. Most of their "sweet, and innocent" decorations have been passed down to Lily and Sophie's bedroom, and their room has become a work in progress of bright colors and chrome accents. Because decorations are so expensive and their room was so suddenly too juvenile, it is going through one of those teen awkward stages. It's a rude awakening to me that Jordan isn't the only one who is getting older much too quickly. It is a rare Saturday that goes by that simultaneous giggling, shrieking and all manner of "bed crack stuffing" isn't heard through those teenage walls. I don't know where they learned to be so loud and unrefined!;-)

A sign for Kindergarten registration dates on the school board caught my eye yesterday. It made me sigh. Can't someone stop this merry-go-round from spinning so quickly; at least let me get a firmer hold, so I don't go flinging off and land on my face. It's a strange feeling to picture Lily and Sophie with back packs on that don't really fit. They are nervous...so am I.

Fred, my peacemaker, goes to work everyday trying to weigh out the scales between corporate politics, and ethics and the temptation to have a nervous breakdown and is still glad that he took this job!;-) I send him out the door everyday, with a "go get 'em champ!" and then tackle the laundry in my pajama's and feel like I am battling the same things in a different light and on a different scale. The funny thing is, we can't complain (I mean we do, but we have no cause to). We are blessed, and not deserving.