Our sweet Holden squirms every year at the thought of
focusing mostly on him on our mutual birthday, so finally Eric decided that
we’d just separate our celebrations. Holden’s birthday dinner consisted of
fried macaroni and cheese balls, BBQ ribs, and cheesecake (the prolonged
digestion just made the celebration last even longer).
He’s pretty darn sick of us teasing him about turning
sixteen in a year. For Christmas, we gave him a present that said “To Holden,
From 389 days.” He was completely confused until we made him think about it,
and then he just rolled his eyes and said, “I don’t want to open this.” Inside
the package was a pair of jeans and a nice sweater. Eric constantly tells him,
“You’ve got to give the ladies what they want!” and “How are you going to
know if the fishing is good until you look closely at the water?”
January Birthday Girl
For my birthday dinner, Eric surprised me with a wonderfully gourmet meal of Chicken Piccata, angel hair pasta and prosciutto-wrapped
asparagus bundles. I sat contentedly working at my desk while Eric and his six
sous-chefs created their masterpiece meal in the kitchen. The sounds of
scrambling feet and orders being shouted out made me feel like I was writing at
a five-star restaurant. The meal was far better than anything we can get within
a two hundred mile radius and the kids all agreed that it was the best chicken
they’d ever had.
As a riff on our birthday tradition of each person sharing
what they like most about the birthday girl or boy, Eric asked the kids to make
me a card or to show an object that represented what they like about me. (You
already know that I can’t type this without blubbering.) Marie, Peter, and Eve
made precious cards. Ethan showed us a blanket and said how I make him feel
warm, safe, and comfortable (Yup. Crying). Holden came up behind me and used a
stuffed heart we have to give me a hug and said that I make him feel loved.
Caleb spent hours working on two hand-made modern origami projects. One
depicted me playing the piano and the other one showed me playing the violin.
He said he likes how good I am at playing music. Eric topped off the complete
love-fest by making me blubber more than I already was and saying that I was the best gift he could give our children.
I wish I could go back in time and talk to that devastated
adolescent who sometimes felt that she wasn’t pretty or charming enough to be
completely happy, and tell her that her future was going to be prettier and
more charming than she could even conceive of then.
I have been through childbirth seven times. I have
held seven of my own children immediately after they surfaced from the painful
caverns of my own body. And now when someone asks me how I like being a mother,
my automatic tears say wonderful, wonderful, wonderful! I love motherhood and
mothering with every cell in my body.
When the Baby Meets the Road
When I’m teaching my classes on MWF, Eric picks up Marie
from kindergarten. Charlie is so excited to his beloved “Rie” after a three
hour absence that he can hardly wait to see her again. Last Monday, Charlie
anticipation caused him to wriggle his skinny body free from the confines of
his carseat and he leaned himself against the door and looked out the window
for her. One of the teacher’s aides opened the car door for Marie and he
toppled head first onto the pavement.
Our littlest pixie-like chap’s run-in with the road was so
traumatic that I everyone is still stinging from it. He’s so cute that I think
even the road felt bad.
When I saw him with his button nose scraped and scratched
and swollen and the bump on his head making him look like a baby Frankenstein,
I had to bite my lip so I wouldn’t overreact. By the time we got home, he had
completely forgotten about the mishap, so I figured it was okay to capture the
sad moment with my camera. He immediately ran to our “photo-op spot” in our
entryway and started posing and saying “Cheeeeese!”
He couldn’t wait to catch a glimpse of the photos on my
viewfinder and I was a little nervous for him to see what he looked like. When
he saw his disfigured mug, he said with concern, “Oh no! I hurt!!”
Yesterday I was trying to get him ready to accompany me to
a church meeting and he found the scab on his nose for the first time. He
touched it and shrieked “Ow!” Then two seconds later, his chubby finger would
wander up to his nose again and he’d shriek, “Ow!” He repeated this no matter
how many times I told him that it would hurt if he touched his nose. Luckily
the mountains of snow outside were enough to distract him from his pesky nose
picking.
Charlie’s vocabulary and sentence structure have been
exponentially exploding over the past few weeks. The people in the nursery at
Church were stunned at how much more he was talking the last week of December
than he had been the first week. Like Ethan did as a pint-sized rhetorician,
Charlie didn’t show much interest in individual words. “What does the cow say,
Charlie?” Instead of answering “Moo,” he’d just look at us like he didn’t know
what we were playing at. So, like his big brother, Charlie hurdled over words
and skipped right to sentences. Charlie has been working on saying prayers, so
I often call upon him to say the prayer for lunch, when it’s just Marie,
Charlie and me who are home during the day. I started the prayer, expecting him
to repeat what I was saying, but noticed he wasn’t saying anything. Finally, he
gave his best self-righteous glare to Marie and said, “Rie! Eyes OFF!”
My absolute favorite Charlie-ism is when he says “Yes.” It
doesn’t sound like that simple affirmation would be miraculous, but when
Charlie says it, he adds a slight “J” sound to the beginning. He nods his head
with utter guilelessness and sounding like he’s tapping into his Mexican roots
on the Kartchner side, he says, “Jyes.” And if I’m ever feeling just a little
down, I can hear him speak that one word and then I ask myself if I’m happy and
the answer is, “Jyes.”
In Sacrament Meeting, he enjoys surveying the crowd at
Church to see who’s being particularly reverent that day, and if someone meets
his approval, he’ll give them a grin and a thumb’s up. Holden gave a talk in
Sacrament Meeting, and Charlie kept animatedly giving him his best pageant
wave. Poor Holden waved back once, but, knowing that everyone else in the
congregation could see him, resisted waving and just let a slight grin play on
the edges of his mouth as he tried not to look at Charlie.
Dancing Queens
Our little ladies both had dance performances this month and
they did not disappoint. Marie’s performance was during halftime for the Rigby
High girls’ basketball team, so she was able to perform before literally
handfuls of people! Eve performed before a similar crowd at the Salem High
School girls basketball halftime. I love having them learn coordination and
movement, but I just can’t distinguish between some of their choreography and what
I would just call “booty shaking.” Since Rexburg doesn’t offer much in the way
of modern dance, we’ll just have to settle for the wiggling hips and shoulder
shimmies while they’re young enough that it isn’t that offensive
In transit to her dance class one day, Eve enthusiastically
gave me the low-down on which actors her friends thought were cute. One of her
friends was partial to David Tenant, while another found Matt Smith doctor-ily
dreamy. I braced myself as I asked her who she thought was cute (because, of
course, I’m not ready for her to think anyone is cute), and she quickly
replied, “Well. . . Dad, of course!” Now that is response I can totally handle.
It’s. . . Rolling Hills. . . Chorister!
We wanted to teach the youth how
to lead music without putting them to sleep, so we decided to add costumes,
competition, and really, really corny youth leaders to the mix.
I had a little too much fun
designing the graphics. . . (Ours is the Rolling Hills Ward.)
How I introduced them:
C Lo High C: Is feelin' kinda. .
. low (said with slow bass voice). (This was actually a tribute to my Dad, who
says this all the time and I love it.)
Ms Christina Aquavista: Just
completed a tour of South America giving under privileged children fashion
tips.
Mr Rick Cowell: Sometimes
knows as The King of Mean or The Super Conductor. New Album “Pluck My Heart
Strings, but Not With Your Pizz.” (Only the strong players got that one!)
Wow. Oh. . . the sacrifices I
make for the Church! I can't believe the things I'll do for our youth. . . (I'm
sure they can't either!) I was the MC for the event. I used an exaggerated British accent that was just like Miss Charming's in
Austenland. Tally-Ho!!!
The funny thing (besides how I
look here) is that I was actually the Ward Chorister in my college ward when I
was 19 and I HATED it because I had to stand up in front of people. My how
times have changed. . .
(And, even though you can't see it, I was wearing a knee-length black skirt under my tutu. . . so I was completely modest there, in case you were concerned.)
Miss C: Our Lovely Leading Lady:
How I introduced her: I like
to call her, “The Cherylizer!” She’s just written a new book, “Chorister Line.”
She’s going to teach you to lead
in 3/4 time and in 4/4 time, but what’s sure is you’ll have a GOOD time!
Cheryl is a piano teacher in
our ward and was uncharacteristically dramatic in her role. She had sort of a
half-British half-Russian accent and I think we were all surprised at her
acting—I think she even surprised herself! It was pretty hilarious and once the
kids realized they were allowed to laugh, they LOVED it!
Round One: The kids were
divided into teams with a good balance of musical experience and then they
competed with kids who had the same level of experience. The kids had to pick
up a Hymnbook and quickly turn to the page the judges had chosen. Then they had
to find the time signature and start leading it. They were judged on speed and
accuracy. I was amazed at how much the
silly costumes they choose from our costume pile were so liberating for them.
Round Two:
We had a playlist that had a
mix of hymn and pop songs on it. They had to listen for the beat and then lead
the song.
Final Round:
That's our Ethan on the far
right. He literally rolled up on the stage and I said, "Who is that??
Whoever he is, he has good genes!" Later I told him he was practically
unrecognizable and he replied, "Yes. That was the point."
The awesome part is that, even
though she's only 18, she actually is our ward chorister! We announced the winner and I
said, "She'll be performing at a Ward near you this Sunday!"