Grandmas

I have to grandmothers:  Grandma Pearl, my mother's mother and Grandma Witt, my father's mother.  When I was born, my dad called his mother to announce my birth.  She asked "Did you name her after me?"  My dad spontaneously replied, "We sure did;  Collette Elizabeth!"  And this is how I got my middle name.  My first name is Grandma Pearls last name:  Collett.

Grandma Pearl wore pink pantsuits; Grandma Witt wore flowered dresses.  Grandma Pearl grew roses; Grandma Witt grew vegetables.  Grandma Pearl had a dog named Mickey who did tricks; Grandma Witt had a dog named Red who ran and ran.  Grandma Pearl wore lots of jewelry; Grandma Witt wore none.  Grandma Pearl collected dolls; Grandma Witt just had amazing knicknacks. 

My Grandma Pearl's whole name is Pearl Angeline Dover.  She was a musician.  She played piano, learned to play the organ on THE organ in the tabernacle on temple square in SLC.  She really wanted to play in the Utah Mormon Symphony, so she got an upright bass and went to rehearsals, where she watch someone play and learned.  I believe it was the prophet Heber J Grant, who would excuse himself from whomever he was talking to to go lift his favorite bass player onto her stool so that she could reach the instrument. Grandma Pearl was refined, talented and always lovely.  Her bathroom had lavendar powders and creams.  She did all sorts of handiwork.  She sewed.  (She sewed my wedding dress...) She learned to paint and left us a legacy of paintings. 

Grandma Witt was very different from Grandma Pearl.  She was a farmer.  She could grow beautiful gardens.  She never had much, but could make do out of anything. She was funny.  She could tell the funniest stories.  She was a mother to Phyllis, my aunt with down's syndrome.  She cared for Phyllis until she died.  She wore flower dresses.  I'm trying to remember if I ever saw her in a pair of pants.  She could talk back to my dad, which was funny, because no one else could!  We loved going with mom to take Grandma to the grocery store.  We always stopped for an icecream cone before we went home.  Her name is Mary Elizabeth Smith.  Her second husband was a Witt and that is why we called her Grandma Witt.  She always had bonbons in her bedroom, which we kids would search for when no one was watching us.

My grandmas were very different...  I used to think of them as Beverly Hills and the Hillbilly...  but I think now that I'm older, that they had many similarities.  They both faced adversity head on.  I never heard any complaining (other than health complaints) from them.  They both had trials and difficult times.  Both women loved their grandchildren deeply.  Neither ever really doted on us, but we knew they loved us.

I miss my Grandmothers...

This Boy

This boy used to be my baby.  Now he is nearly 19.  This boy used to take 20 minute naps and eat everything in sight.  He started singing at 9 months.  At a year, he could sing "Folsom Prison Blues".  He built Legos, threatened to shock his younger brother and built "a tower to the Lord" out of all my kitchen chairs and stools.  All this before the age of 4.

At 6, he told his 1st grade teacher he didn't understand why there were signs on the road for slow children?  Why couldn't those kids be faster?  And when she asked him why he didn't do an assignment, he told her he was in "La La Land".

Pokemon, Soccer, then paintball and B-B guns.  Then middle school and a guitar for Christmas.  He took piano; didn't like it.  Played violin in the orchestra...  Did really well, til we realized that he couldn't read music.  He played by ear.  So we got him the guitar.  He taught himself to play over Christmas Vacation.  By the end of 7th grade, he formed THE BAND.  Those four boys played and played.  Robbie kept on singing. They got really good.  You can listen to one of my favorite songs here:

http://www.myspace.com/music/22476216/songs/70979549

High School brought 4 years of Cross Country and some Track on the side.  Run, Run, Run. First job, first date, driving, gray hairs (for me) and lots more of THE BAND.  In my basement; 2-3 times a month, or more.  Talent shows, then playing at places like the Cretin, The Boulevard and even the Knitting Factory.

Graduation.  Recording 4 original songs.

And now my baby boy is working and saving his money.  He just got called to serve as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  Paris, France.  He didn't do so well in French at the community college.  Not so well at all...  But the Lord REALLY wants that boy to speak French.

My baby boy who talked at 9 months, could swim before he could walk and who threw himself passionately into this big old world is leaving home to preach the gospel; to have the most amazing experience of all his life; to grow spiritually, mentally, emotionally.  This is what happens to baby boys, just so you know.

Food For Thought...

     I have a four year old daughter who won't eat ice cream, Oreo's, candy, chocolate or even a bite of  birthday cake.  When I tell people that, their first comments are "Wow, I wish I could refuse to eat that stuff."  Yeah, me, too!  She also won't eat much of anything else.  For the longest time, her diet has consisted of Quaker Oatmeal packet with an extra handful of quick oats, mixed with hot water and a container of Gerber 2nd food apple/blueberry mix (Breakfast... every day...  Won't eat cereal, eggs or toast).  Lunch, if I keep reminding her to finish, usually is a plain peanut butter sandwich.  She will eat Chicken nuggets and french fries, cheese, crackers and ham.  Dinner, almost always, is Gerber 3rd foods Chicken Noodle.  Yes she is four and still eats baby food.  We hoped for 3 years that she would grow out of this...
     Now maybe this just sounds like your typical picky preschooler... Perhaps....  And maybe you think I have somehow created this monster (but I have raised 5 other children, all who went through picky stage and all who try new foods....) 
     But consider this:  We were at a restraunt one night and ordered Chicken strips and fries for her.  Because this was a nice restraunt, the waiter brought all of us appetizers and brought her a small bowl of mixed fruit (watermelon cubed, cantalope, grapes and strawberries).  Cami was petrified.  She threw herself at me and buried her head in my lap.  She sobbed (silently), her shoulders shaking.  I quickly realized that she was terrified that she would have to eat this fruit; I convinced her that it was not for her, but for sharing with her brothers and sisters.
     She calmed down; and after a bit, began giving the pieces of fruit to her brothers and sisters.  She then ate a Chicken strip and a few fries.
     For a long time, I thought perhaps she just couldn't eat certain foods  Even as a two year old, she would put crackers in her mouth and mull them around til they softened and she could swallow them.  It would take her 30 minutes to process a one inch slice of bacon.  By the way, she love love loves salty foods...  She currently weighs about 34 pounds and is of a normal height for her age.  She gets most of her nutrition from Pediasure and those type of drink products.  She refuses to drink juice.
     But here is the key:  She has severe GERD (reflux) and the effects of that have made her very afraid of food.  Many "Failure to thrive" children receive g-tubes...  Cami was a labeled "failure to thrive" when she was one and a half..  but she would eat SOMETHING and she would drink that pediasure...  What I am learning now is that she, like other severe GERD kids and g-tube kids, has a deep fear of food.  She needs to control what goes in her mouth so that she won't have pain and she won't gag.  You cannot convince her to eat anything...  She has to decide on her own.  In just the last few months, she has started telling me she is hungry... before that I wonder if she even felt hunger pains.  One professional health worker told me that most kids rate their favorite food as a 10 on a scale of 1-10.  Cami's favorite foods are just a 4... In other words, she doesn't have much interst in eating and taste isn't playing a huge part... texture is.
     So we are going to the Achieve center in Spokane, where, for the first time, I have found speech and occupational therapists that are familiar with this type of eating disorder (painful to call it that, but it is what it is) and are working with her to help broaden her horizons when it comes to food. 
     The first few times at the center, when an unfamiliar food was placed before her, Cami would turn away quickly.  She wouldn't even look at it.  The therapists would play with the food (ie: whip cream, jam) and encourage Cami  to draw in it.  As they've continued to work with her, we are implementing a kiss it or lick it strategy.  When Cami eats, she is given her familiar food along with something she hasn't tried before.  She immediately says, "I don't like that" or "I don't want that" and we say, "It's OK.  You don't have to eat it, you just have to kiss it or lick it."  If it's something salty, we encourage the lick.  But no other pressure...  She even kissed her first ice cream on Jordon's birthday!  It's baby steps, for sure.  But at least it is a step closer to eating her first bite...
     It's been painful, as her mother, to watch her and not understand why...  We were sent to every specialist in town, from gastro-intestinal ot genetics, but no real understanding until now.  I hope this is the answer, because sometimes I get tired of trying to explain why my four year old won't eat that sucker you just gave her, or why she is still eating babyfood, or why she has no interest in that candy bar that has been offered to her that most four year olds would be thrilled to have....

Breakfast in Bed

Happy Mother's day!  The tradition at my house is that I wake up first and then I have to stay in bed (which is very very hard for me), while my hubby rouses the children and herds them into the kitchen to prepare my "Breakfast in Bed".  Now you may find this very sweet and you may even like to have this yourself, but let me just say that it is a bit awkward.  I mean, 6 kids pile into the bedroom with sleepy smiles, wishing me a happy mother's day.  They deposit homemade gifts and cards on me, along with a large tray full of breakfast items.  They stand around staring at me while I take my first bite and then they disperse quickly to go eat their own breakfasts!  I am left alone in a bouncy bed with a tray full of food and water and juice, expected to balance it all on my legs and not slosh anything.  Then I have to call to them to come get my tray, because I am afraid to switch positions, for fear of spilling.  And, by the way, I don't like to eat breakfast first thing in the morning.  I usually wait until around 10....  So if I leave something untouched, I hear about it...  "Didn't you like the eggs?  Didn't you like the toast?"

All the same, I wouldn't change it.  I just find the "Breakfast in Bed" thing a bit over-rated.  Today, my cute girls asked my favorite question:  "When is it kids day?"  And Robbie told them my favorite answer:  "Everyday is kids day!"  "So," asked the girls, "Why don't we get breakfast in bed?"  So I will make them breakfast in bed....

I am so blessed to have 6 amazing children.  So blessed to be a mother to three wonderful boys and three beautiful girls. This is all I ever wanted.  Thank you to my wonderful husband who is my partner in all of this!

Cows.. Horses... Sheep EIEIO

We are building a little farm. About three years ago, we traded 3 lake view/access building lots for a beautiful 20 acre piece of Spokane County. One day, we'll build a house on it, but in the meantime, we're building the farm. It started with the horses, of course. Then it turned out that we could cut and bale over 130 bales of hay, so we decided to add to our animal collection. Last year we raised 5 pigs and 3 lambs for 4-H. Then Troy bought a steer and a heifer. The steer jumped the fence, the heifer was frightened to death, we placed 430 pounds of hamburger in our fridge and Troy swore he'd never have bovine's again.

That lasted less than 6 months. March 30th, he brought home a 5 day old Black Angus calf and a 2 week old Hereford Heifer. We named them Jaxie (after Rob's friend Jackson) and Isabella (after Cami's best friend from pre-school).

When calves get sick... Let me tell you... 2 inch boluses (pills), trying to shove those down a calf's thoat?? Not fun. Last Saturday. Troy brought home calf number 3. A beautiful Red Angus (possible Seminole cross?) we named Sammy. But we call her Red Bull. She was less than a day old when we got her and she is like a bull in a china shop. She wouldn't eat at first, so I straddled her and fed her between my legs. Now she won't be fed any other way. She bumps my legs and rear, like I'm her mother.

So on to the sheep... We have two ewes, a momma to twins and an auntie. The auntie is very very large and smart. She can open gates and apparantly can open the barn doors. The two of them, and the babies let themselves into the barn last Sunday and ate themselves sick on the grain. So try giving sheep 2 2-inch boluses two times a day... Just saying... You use a long plunger type stick that can hold the bolus and you jam the bolus down the throat more than 2/3's of the way, then press the trigger, then hope they swallow.

And then today, Troy planted 50 lbs of potatoes (Yukons and reds) and a long row of onions... That's my farmer husband... Just saying... I really like him. I always wanted to marry a farmer.

Churches

When I was a girl, growing up in Richmond, Kentucky... I lived on Tates Creek Ave, maybe a quarter mile from Main Street. We could walk to Main street and from there, we could walk anywhere. Tates Creek Market... Westover... Sunset... Downtown to JC Penney's, the Glyndon Hotel, Jett's (Men's shop), even the Town Cinema, with it's one movie screen. On the way to "town", you passed many many churches. St. Mark's Catholic church, a Lutheran Church, the First Presbyterean church, The First Methodist Church, the First Baptist Church ... It seem like there were at least 6, if not 8 beautiful church buildings. Every Sunday, the church bells rang, the parking lots were full. Many of these church buildings were older, but with beautiful stained glass and ornamental trim and of course, the church bells. When we went to church, we drove past all these beautiful buildings to 2nd Street or Water Street, I can't even remember now, but some dingy side street, across from the Richmond Register building to an old Pizza joint, where we held church every Sunday morning. The building was old, smelled bad, had raggedy carpet, but it had been loved into being a Mormon church building.

One day, I asked my mom, why don't we go to one of these other churches, with their pretty buildings and bells and windows? She replied, "Because our Church is called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The Church we go to has Jesus' name in the title because it is His church. None of these other churches bears the name of Jesus Christ."

That made sense, I guess, to a seven year old. But one day, wonder of wonders, a new building was started right across from the end of Tates Creek on Main Street. A sign was placed in front of the building. My friend Sabena and I had walked up to the Tates Creek Market and could read the sign. It said, "Future home of The Church of Christ". We were so excited! Sabena wasn't Mormon, but she knew I could only go to a church with the name of Christ in it. "You can go to church right here, now," she said.

We raced all the way home to tell my mom that a church with Jesus Christ's name in was being built at the end of our street. That's when I learned that there was more to our church than just the name (no offense to my Church of Christ friends). The church I belonged to was literally the gospel of Jesus Christ, restored to the earth in these latter-days by the boy prophet Joseph Smith. It was organized the same way Jesus Christ organized the Church when he was on the earth, with prophets, apostles, teachers, evangelists. My church taught charity and love, service and kindness, just as Jesus Christ had taught in the New Testament. My church taught that there was an additional record of scripture, called the Book of Mormon, that was another testament of Jesus Christ and his dealings with the people here in the America's. Of course, much of this I didn't really understand as a child. I had to take my Mother's word for it.

But as I grew, my testimony grew. I learned more about the gospel, which in turn increased by knowledge of the truthfulness of the things my mother taught. I have had my own witness that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is Jesus Christ's church restored, through fervent prayer and study of these things.

My Heavenly Father Loves Me

Yesterday I was grumbly. Mostly because I had to take the LAST of our money and deposit it into another bank to pay our October bills... And then there is no more. How could this happen? Why couldn't that client pay us the large sum of money he owes. Now we have no money left in the account and can only pay ourselves half of the regular salary we typically pay ourselves. I was gripey... Didn't Heavenly Father know that we needed some help here? Couldn't he see that we could use a placement or two?
As I drove to the bank downtown, I realized I would need money for a parking meter. We had used the last of the car change to buy Dallin a water after practice last week. I have no money, I thought grumpily. Kind of out of habit, I said a quick, half-felt prayer. "Heavenly Father, bless that I can find a space where the meter is already paid, cuz I can't afford a parking ticket." Then I went back to thinking grumbling, griping thoughts of how we might lose the house (OK, so I was looking down the road...), what we could sell, etc. I pulled in front of the bank and started digging around the car for any loose change. Eventually I came up with a dime and a nickel and hoped they would be enough to get me in the bank and back.
Without looking at the meter, I deposited the dime, then glanced up to see how much time that would allot me. The meter read 19:00. Heavenly Father had heard my grumbly prayer.
I can't believe how much He loves me, I thought as I crossed the street and started up the ramp to the bank. As that thought went through my head, I felt His love come over me. The spirit was so strong. The next thought that went through my head (and it was not my own thought) was "And He is aware of your financial situation." Again, I felt washed by the Spirit and His love. Such a blessing that was for me that day. A strong and overwhelming witness that I am a child of Heavenly Father, who loves me individually and knows what is going on in my life. He is aware... so I don't need to spend useless time worrying about it. He knows... He will help when the time is right.
I love the gift of the Holy Ghost.