Thursday, April 12, 2012

Volume VIII, issue iii. March 2012

St Patrick's Day

Our quarter-Irish gang was decked out in green for days around March 17th and I pouted the way I do every year that I'm the only one in my house without a drop of Irish blood.  

I suppose I make up for what's lacking in my family tree with culinary enthusiasm. 

Charlie's T-shirt.  She obviously can't read.

I experienced a weird sort of grim satisfaction when I marched up to Burger King's oily counter on St Patrick's Day and ordered NINE free fries, complete with an eerily incandescent "St Paddy's Sauce."

Happily Ever After (at least sort of)

As the youngest girl, Marie hasn't enjoyed as much zombified cartoon watching as her siblings.  I've been trying to make up for lost TV time (because I am that good of a mother), so we've been cozying up on the couch while Peter is away at preschool and Charlie is napping and enjoying some Disney Classics.  Marie makes several costume changes per day, so I never know which princess will be present.                                                                                            

By the climax of Beauty and the Beast, I was much more focused on Marie than the movie. She was no longer cuddled up with me. She was standing at tippee-toed attention two feet away from the screen, her immense brown eyes opened wide, every muscle tensed in anticipation as the Beast whirled in the air with magical sparks whirring and zipping around him.

I couldn't wait to see her reaction to the infamous transformation and she delivered.
As the transformed Beast turned to face the screen, Marie's whole body slumped as if her strings had been cut.

She screwed up her face and said,"What the. . . ?"

Ahhhh. . . the magic of childhood summed up perfectly by my princess.

Mr Fix-it

Like Peter's quirky imagination, our downstairs toilet would run eternally if we didn't stop it.  The other day, Peter came leaping up the stairs, shouting "I'm a genius!"

I said, "Oh really?  Tell me why you're a genius, Peter."

He puffed out his little chest and proudly explained, "I fixed the toilet just like Dad!"

More than once he had watched how Eric carefully jiggled the handle on the cursed commode and had figured out how to "fix it" himself.

Sterling Scholar

Holden's recent application for Honors English was just too juicy not to share.

Once in a lifetime a student comes along who is perfect. He has good hair and clothes, the best grades, is very athletic, and has the best personality. The guy standing next to him is me. At least I’m next to him. 

Ready or Not (and I am most definitely NOT)

Maybe it's because he never had any younger brothers, but Eric unleashes his pent-up need to tease with a fatherly fury I've never seen. One of his fallbacks involves a girl in our ward.  For example, Eric will say something like, "Holden, you'd better comb your hair so you don't disappoint Alli Rigby at church today" or "Wow, Holden.  You look so nice today that even Alli Rigby would approve."  

By now the jokes are so old that Holden applies the "Wild Bear Approach" he learned at Scout Camp last year. In other words, if he just plays dead rather than fights back, the animal will eventually go away. 

A few weeks ago, Holden asked Eric why he never teases Ethan about any girls. Eric shrugged and said, "I guess it's because I can't think of any girls his age."

Without pausing, Ethan said quietly, "Charlotte Rose is my age. 

Uh-oh. . . 

There will be no teasing about Charlotte Rose in this house.  Even Eric is sensitive enough to leave that cute little tidbit of tweenage truth alone.  

Eve was the most fearless, tireless Girl Scout I have ever seen.
After three hours of peddling cookies, she chirped, 

"Mom!  This is SO FUN!" 

             The Pinewood Derby.  Only one car this year.  We survived.  Enough Said.

Until We Meet Again

It's still too near for me to comment on the funeral of my niece last week, but I wanted to re-post her obituary.

Chaya Ruth Hafen Obituary 
Chaya Hafen, 15 years old, died at her family home in Battle Creek, MI on April 2, 2012.  She had severe cerebral palsy and was wheelchair bound, but was otherwise healthy and stable. She died peacefully and without any pain, surrounded by those who love her. Chaya had a great smile, a remarkable spirit, and a tenacious will to live and enjoy life despite her physical challenges.
Chaya was born on April 10, 1996 in Chicago to Tom and Tracy Hafen.  She was born 12 weeks premature, and her cerebral palsy was the result of the difficult circumstances surrounding her birth.   Her name, “Chaya,” which is Hebrew for “life,” was chosen by her parents because of her strong will to stay alive at a time when her early survival was uncertain.
From her youth, she worked tirelessly with dedicated teachers, therapists, nurses, and doctors in order to make the most of her limited physical abilities.  In the process, she grew close to many them, and they often spoke of her cheerful demeanor and her infectious smile.
Chaya had a ready laugh and a highly developed sense of humor, and she loved spending time with her family, her classmates, and friends at church.  She was particularly close to her Grandpa Daniel Taylor, who preceded her in death and with whom she is now joyously reunited.
She had strong faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ, and she anticipated the day when she would be blessed with a perfect body through the power of the Resurrection.   Her family looks forward to embracing her in their arms again and hearing all the words that her beautiful spirit wanted to convey in this life.
Chaya is survived by her parents and her siblings, Daniel, Caleb, Elia, Asher, Micah, Devi, and Jaren. 

1 comment:

jamie t. said...

My mom, Donna Budge, gave me your blog address. I hope you don't mind my "stalking." What a beautiful family you have. That dessert looked amazing! A must try.

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