Big Family

I LOVE to have people over.  Neighbors.  New people at Church.  The boy's friends and their families.  It is not uncommon at Thanksgiving to have the house packed with 30 or more people.  I love a happy crowd.  We've have "We're not watching the Super Bowl Super Bowl Parties," and "Adventure Races," and lots and lots of game nights.  Just last week we had two big families for dinner:  six adults and 16 kids.  It was awesome.  

I can remember one night in Flagstaff spontaneously inviting the Fisher Family of 7 (their oldest was serving a mission) over for dinner.  

"Really?  Really?  Are you sure?"  Sister Fisher asked again and again and again.  At that moment there was an excitement about them that I had never seen and an hour later we were really enjoying our dinner and conversation with them.  What great, wonderful folk that Fisher Family is. . . absolutely dynamite.  

It would be about 5 years later that I would really understand their excitement.  Big Families do not get invited for dinners.  Big Families do not get invited for dessert.  Big families do not get invited to play games.  When we were a family of 2 adults and 4 kids, we invited and got invited to do things all the time.  Then along came #5.  Our invites dropped drastically, probably 75%.  But we still got the occasional brave family who would welcome us into their home.  When #6 made his arrival, we continued to invite families over at least two or three times a month and the invites in return disappeared.  In the past two years, aside from our very best friends (we love you Speaks!!) and the Mauger's/Neighbors we have been invited over for dinner once. 

I get it.  I do.  Big Families are BIG and scary and noisy.  I've heard the comments, "Where will they all sit?   and how many times do I have to double this recipe?  and you have kids that are older/younger than our kids, what will they do?"    

In so many ways we are our own party, and I love that.  I love that we fill every seat in our own living room and that we don't need extra bodies to play hearts or rook or blockus or kickball.  I love that dinner conversation has improved 100 fold over the last six months. . . the twins are becoming inquisitive and enjoy engaging in adult-ish conversations.  It is great that some of our best company is found within the walls of our home.

But with that said, can I be honest. . . every now and then I'd love to be invited over. . . even just for hot chocolate . . . or cookies . . .  or cards.  

[this isn't a call for action. . . my blog it not intended for people in Alaska. . . so I'm not expecting my phone to ring . . .  it is more of a personal reminder to ME that in the years to come when we become comfortable with "small,"  to reach out occasionally and embrace the "big."]

Tie on your Bonnet

I adore my friend Heather.  Heaven gave me the gift of a true friend when Heather walked into the Electrical Engineering department my junior year of college.  We began as workmates, quickly became roommates, and ended (can I be so bold as to say) as soul sisters.   

When I left Ricks College, I left behind my very best friend Brooke.  Oh how I love Brooke.  Starting my Junior year of college without her was torture.  I went from giggling with my girlfriend every night to feeling so alone and so different.  

And then I met Heather.  We ate noodles and sauce together, looked at clouds and went hiking, bought the same pair of comfy gap jeans, brought her plant "furful" back to life, chanted the motto "pure doctrine", and sweated together up that silly BYU hill on our nightly runs.   We've found and lost love together, attended each other's weddings, been pregnant together at least 4 times, and continue to celebrate the ups and downs of life and motherhood.   I'm not someone who has a million close friends. . . maybe more like four or five. . . so to find Heather and to still count her as a close and dear friend is one of my greatest joys.  

Here's a excerpt from her blog:

Last night I was instant messaging with Stephanie in Alaska (isn't technology amazing?!). We were talking (rather… typing) about all the fabulous blessings/hardships/callings we deal with in this life. Even after a hard day … and realizing things were not going to get much easier in the immediate future … what did she say?

Oh, how I laughed.
I absolutely loved it!

Best Encouraging Sentences EVER!

And while I may make Heather laugh and say some random encouraging things every now and then, believe me when I say I get every bit in return.  

Another blog

For those of you who are google reader fans, I now have a non-private blog:

http://baconbits8.blogspot.com/

I sent my posts to both sites, so it doesn't really matter which one you follow.

Just thought I'd let you know.

Mudge

Anemic no more.  (and yes there is a part of me that wonders if he ever was. . . our doctor's machine read much lower than the lab in town.  The doc's said he was anemic, the lab said he was perfectly normal.  After a year and a half of testing with the doc, we went to the lab.  same day, hours apart, two different results.  hmmm. . . )  

Yesterday I took my baby boy into the lab for his last hemoglobin test.   The nurse called and confirmed his normal results.  The call was proceeded by some whooping and hollering and overall jubilation--which means for the three of us at home we high fived, toasted our glasses of milk, and found room for another cookie.  It was a great morning.  

What have I learned from the whole Anemia experience:

1.  My we are healthy.  Spending time in the lab waiting room and see others with significant worries and ailments makes you appreciate a little anemia blood draw.  Can I say that those people, the ones who are sick and suffering, also happen to be some of the nicest people in the entire world!!  Especially the older ones and the immobile ones. . . they were always saying hello to Talmage and were the first ones to offer a smile, a little pat on his head, and a comment about energy and youth.  What examples of great service amid suffering.  

2.  Mudge is an amazing little boy.  I never once went to the doctor's office or the lab and didn't receive a compliment on his behavior.  He would sit soundlessly while getting poked (please don't think this is the Bacon norm. . . I have a few needle phobes in this family and others who are just plain wiggly all of the time).  There was a time when Mudge was taking a M&M sized supplement each morning.  All be it covered in Hershey's syrup and all, he would swallow the pill whole.  It took me until I was pregnant with Christian and Tanner to really learn how to swallow pills. . . the kid has got me beat by twenty years.  

3.  I am so grateful for Health Insurance and Eric's great job that provides it for us.  Seeing as though our employer/insurance company is Utah based, we have little if any in-provider coverage living in the Last Frontier: only 1 oncologist, 1 physical therapist, 1 obstetrician, and 1 hospital.  No pediatricians or family practice.  Fortunately under our insurance all lab work is covered 100% which has saved us hundreds and hundreds of dollars.

Talmage and I have been sick this past week.  Stomach Flu, Head Colds, and Fevers.  Talmage has wanted only to snuggle.  And snuggle.  And snuggle.  He's got the death grip on his sippy cup, but other than is content to just be held.  It is endearing to have this sweet little one so near to me and I am grateful that in another week or so his body will be healthy . . . a gift, a miracle, another reason to count our blessings during this season of Thanks.

Turning Teacher

Every Thursday morning I'm frantic gathering construction paper, searching for glue, thumbing through the books on the bookshelf.   I pull down the carpet squares for circle time, gather ingredients for cooking time, and print of words for seasonal songs.  When the last piece of paper is in it's place, I smile.  This is where the fun begins.  Josie and Kohen ring the doorbell, peal off their snow clothes, and come inside to learn and play and I transform into Teacher.  I was born to teach; I thrive in the classroom of 30 or of 3.  So despite the madness of the morning, I love Thursdays and the opportunity it affords me to formally turn teacher.  

Halloween

One of our favorite Fall traditions is the elementary school's Harvest Fair.  Costumes, 120 tickets, an hour of running from game to game, lots of treats and prizes, six very happy boys.  

Actual Halloween was cold and snowy.  Costumes were covered by coats and hats and gloves.  The boys came home with their bags filled with candy at the Trunk-or-Treat.  The little boys were content to spend the rest of the evening sorting and eating.  

Best Little Cheerleader

Donna (Harry's mom) and I cheer on our big boys every Saturday together.  I usually bring along this little cheerleader because 1).  He's so cute.  2).  Ironically he can sit still the longest out of the youngest four.  3). He doesn't whine or beg for treats or need to be taken out to get a drink.  4).  I think Donna likes him.  He stole his fair share of her camera time.  

the 3 amigos

It is strange to see my little boys growing up.  In three weeks they'll be 12 and they can hardly wait.  Today was the primary program and they simply looked awkward.  A good 8 inches taller than everyone else, their voices are changing and they can barely sing the songs, and they had to bend over to speak in the microphone.  When I asked them how the practice went the week before they had one word for me, "BOWWWWW-WING!"  (Boring. . . but in their Uncle Bart's voice).

They do a lot of this with their friends this day.  Hanging out has become the new play . . . my baby boys are growing up.  

Apparently I haven't had time to take pictures.  Oh, my.  My pickings for the blog are slim.  

I do however always seem to have a few of this one.  Perhaps it is because I am home with him all day.  Or more likely, perhaps it is because I simply adore him.  

Talmage right now is a bit of heaven.  Sleeping 13 hours at night (sleeping is a relative term. . . he's happy in his crib).  He naps (again relative) for another three to four hours.  He's trying so hard to talk.  I love it when he says smile.  Prayers have been consolidated to "Heavenly Amen."  

Eric and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Eric is perfect for me.  Perfect?  No.  But perfect for me.  Recently I've been reminded how much he forces himself into the details of our kids lives.  I love to overhear him talking science with the twins in the hallway, teaching Tanner how to play the guitar, tickling Warner and Hyrum, or praising Sam on some basketball move.  The kids glow after spending time with Eric.  He changes diapers, folds laundry, does the dishes, and can pack a very delicious school lunch.  He's great at praising and seeing the best in people, especially me and especially when the best is hard to see.  He smiled and grabbed the gorilla glue when I take off his car's side view mirror AGAIN and smirked when I rammed the driver side rear door of his civic.  He patiently puts up with my imperfections and doesn't sweat the small stuff.  

The other day my perfect husband had a not so perfect day.  I still giggle when I think about it. I want to document it, not to poke fun at Eric, but to remember that we had these days.  For me they are common, for Eric they are rare.   

Terrible:  

I play basketball every Tuesday and Thursday mornings at 6AM.  Every morning it is a struggle to rip myself from my warm bed, but I do it because afterwards it is always the BEST way to start my day.  Last Tuesday, I got up, dressed, and sleepily drove myself to the church.  And it was there that I waited and waited and waited.  My friend Karen who has the keys never came.  I think all five of us were disheartened as we left the parking lot and headed home.  I found Eric downstairs on the computer.

"You're home early.  How was basketball?"  he asked.

"Karen never showed," I sighed.

"Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you that she brought the keys by last night; they are on top of the fridge."  

 

Horrible:

Later that day we happily found our PFD (money that Alaska residents receive from oil revenue) checks in the mailbox.  Hip hip hooray.  Each person was allotted $1000.  It is always a happy day.  So I counted the checks.  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.   I recounted.  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.  Granted I may forget to put all our names on the family Christmas card, but when it comes down to cold hard cash, I know that there are definitely 8 of us in this family.  There was Talmage, Warner, Hyrum, Sam, Christian, Tanner, and Eric.  No Stephanie.  Apparently an oversight, Eric forgot to apply for me last year.  Bummer. You can only smile about that one. . . there isn't a single thing we can do about it now.  I have a gut feeling that mistake will only be made once.

No Good:

That evening I put butternut squash in the oven and was sad when it wasn't ready for dinner.  After our meal I went downstairs to get little ones ready for bed.  Eric, the Kitchen Cleaning CHAMP!!!!!, stayed upstairs and over saw after-dinner-chores.  When he eventually made his way downstairs, I asked, "Did you take the squash out of the oven?"  He replied with a confident, "Yes."  Later when I smelled burning I asked again.  And I was met with the same response.  I finally moised upstairs to find an oven filled with all sorts of smoke and two very sad looking squashes.  

Some days are good.  Some days are terrible.  Some perfectly good people have perfectly horrible days they don't care to repeat.  

It's been a while

It's been a while, I know.  What's been keeping me busy?

• six kids.  our next door neighbor had a baby girl two weeks ago.  the kids are in love with babies.  "can we vote on another baby?" a little voice asked at dinner the other night.
• two completed, to scale structure projects.  christian picked Alcatraz.  tanner picked the Pentagon.  
• basketball.  i love cheering on my boys.  C&T have all the confidence in the world (note confidence, not skill. . . but I believe one masks the other pretty well).  Sam is more self conscience but excited.  I was surprised to discover that all the Bacons are the tallest members of their teams this year.  
• preschool.  I teach our co-op preschool on Thursdays.  Josie, Kohen, and Warner are the perfect preschool threesome.  

Something Delicious

This is dedicated to my chocolate milk loving sisters.  There's nothing quite like a cold glass of chocolate milk!!

Mudge received one of these bandaids today.  

Me:  Warner do you know who that is?  [earlier at another blood draw he had been a smidge envious of his brother's lightning mcqueen bandaid]

Warner:  [Some serious thought.]  Yah, . . .  it's the chocolate milk bunny.  

Me:  [Smile.]

Fair enough.  Fair enough.  I was relieved that my kid would recognize the chocolate milk mascots over the looney tunes characters. . . we Bacons can find something delicious in just about anything.

Why all the blood draws?  Mudge is still struggling with Anemia.  The doctor seems a tad perplexed, perhaps a false negative on the Celiacs diagnosis??  We did another blood draw today and hopefully we'll get more answers.  Back to iron pills smothered in hershey's chocolate syrup. 

Cool Crazy

I wasn't paying attention the other day when we left the house.  Warner was not only wearing miss matched shoes, but shoes on the wrong feet.  This is "cool crazy" he proclaimed.  

After spending a week with the Bishop's family (Ashley watched the kids for us while we were at EFY) whenever Warner is asked his name he says, "Henry Warner Hank Bacon."  Hank was the Bishop's idea.  

Mudge

Part of me is reluctant to have another baby.  Could any other baby ever match up to this one?  Yes, Yes, I remember he's my destructing Angel. . . but sometimes I forget.  Especially when he smiles and uses those sparkly eyes on me.  I'm in Love.

Sunday Walks

I [heart] Sunday Walks.  Little boys.  Little steps.  Lots of time.  

Back to School

Today EVERYONE eligible is back at school.  All those markers, pencils, backpacks, and new clothes make ME want to go back to school.  I loved school and I think my kids genuinely enjoy it too.

I hear this a lot from friends and neighbors, "So how is it having everyone in school?  It must be so easy with just two at home." 

To be honest it's like I'm on a diet and I just sent my fruit and veggies off for the day and am stuck at home with the cookies and donuts.  Mudge and Warns are my hardest, most demanding children simply because of their ages.  And while I love them dearly I am honestly missing having my big, helpful, emotionally mature, English speaking, independent, kind kids around.  

I did however have a cute moment with Warner this afternoon.  He was saying the prayer over lunch.  "Heavenly Father.  Thank you for this day.  Thanks for Kohen and for the bike ride and this lunch food.  In the Name of Jesus Christ, Amen."  I oohed and ahhed because for the FIRST time in a real LONG time he actually broke from his rhetoric and said something thoughtful.  As if shocked by the praise he said to me, "Yah, my mom taught me this."  And yes, I had. For WEEKS we'd been talking about being more thoughtful, saying something. . . anything different and apparently today was the time to make the change.

Destroying Angel

Talmage is my destroying Angel.  Oh, how I love him.  At times I wonder if there could be a more sparkly soul alive. He's got a killer smile on that dark tan face of his surrounded by those blond curly locks.  But don't let the looks deceive you. . . this one is a firecracker.  I think perhaps when you are #6 you are acutely aware that your mother cannot be everywhere at the same time.  Talmage loves to get into cupboards, the pantry, and his latest attempt the oven (he does get extra credit points for thinking about personal safety and retrieving the oven mits before playing with something that potentially could scar him for life).  

Car Port

Can you guess where Talmage likes to store his cars?

Horny

Yup, you read that right. . . Horny.  We have a stuffed animal named Horny.  He's been a part of the family for months, and I'm never quite prepared to hear his name shouted throughout the house.  Every time Hyrum says it I giggle inside.  

(Horny became part of our family after Megan Speaks gave Tanner $1 to use in one of those stuffed animal machines.  You know, the ones that NO ONE ever actually wins a prize.  My boy Tanner however came through like a champ and sheepishly showed off his prize.  For Hyrum it was love at first sight and he and Horny have been inseparable ever since.  With the addition of Horny our stuffed animal collection (consisting of Ruggles and Strawberry) increased by 50%.)

Time and Timing

Today I made the exclamation, "Go to your room for 15 minutes and NO READING."  That for Christian is the ultimate punishment.  Four years ago I was convinced that this child was never, ever, ever going to learn to read.  I was beyond frustrated.  Aside from my gentle reminders, the poor boy didn't want to be bothered by actually LOOKING at the words before reading them.  For him, reading was purely imagination. . . imagine the characters, imagine the adventure, and even imagine the words.  I thought for sure he was doomed to be the only 10th grader still trying to work his way through the Dick and Jane reader.

Similarly, for TWO years we've been working with Hyrum on riding a bike.  We've put on the training wheels.  We've taken them off.  We've talked about balance.  We've had practice sessions.  We've loaded the bike up and taken him to the land of flat smoothly paved bike riding paradise.  We took off the pedals to encourage balance and gliding.  We've coaxed and cheered.  We've praised and praised and praised.  We've encouraged and tried to make it fun.  And then we gave up.  I had finally decided that there were worse things in the world than a kid running after his three big brothers on bicycles.  And that was that.  Yes, he still rode his training wheeled bike around the cul-de-sac but the dream of balance all but disappeared.  

Then last Wednesday while the training wheels were off (thanks Sam!) I suggested, "Hy, I'll give you ten jelly beans for ten minutes on the bike."  

He looked at me, sat on the bike, pushed himself forward, placed his feet on the pedals, and rode down the driveway.  

I have to learn this principle over and over and over again . .that

time and timing

are essential for learning and change.

I'm not one to compare my kids to others. . . I don't really care that Talmage isn't talking and that Warner stutters or that C&T are mediocre at sports.  I don't care that my boys aren't in the gifted and talented program (well, I almost don't care . . . but that is just the Warner in me. . .but I've accepted it), and I don't mind that Sam, a very capable reader, simply doesn't enjoy reading.  Then to my surprise, every now and then something screams for my attention, my worry, my wondering . . . and then I panic.  I abandon what I know. . . that time and timing are everything.  I try to analyze, and fix, and create the perfect plan for overcoming the obstacle.  And does it work?  Rarely.  Most of the time I just complicate things for myself.  I become TOO involved in something that I simply should not be trying to control, something that with time (and yes it may be weeks or months or years) and at the appropriate timing will resolve itself with the basic effort. Yes, a kid who never looks at the words on the page will one day grow up to be a voracious reader, another who cannot balance for one second will beg to go on his fifth bike ride of the morning, a boy who melts down and dives into arguments will learn how to control his behavior and allow logic to enter when frustrated.  I need to trust more in what I know. . . that there is an unmeasurable benefit in the principle time and timing.