Its a love thing

(Orson Scott Card- The Pathfinder)

Its no secret that Zach likes to read, being an English teacher and all. I'm a big fan of the written word as well. We both enjoy this particular author, Bro. Orson Scott Card. Since I've been here in Utah I've read seven of his novels and Zach and I are currently working on my eighth, The Lost Gate. Thats right, we're working on it together. We like to read out loud to one another. I especially like it when he reads while I sweep or I read while he folds the laundry. It's way better than TV and it's time we spend together. It's a love thing.

Metal Mouth

Welcome to my newly adorned mouth. I was thinking my pearly whites looked kind of plain so I decided to give them some silver jewelry. Don't be fooled, beauty is pain. I know my braces look cute, but they hurt like... well lets just say they hurt a lot for now. I'm on day two, having had the small torture devices implanted yesterday so I'll refer to this as "tender-two." from now till the end of my jail sentence every time I get them tightened. My diet for the past 48 hours has been a Mechanical soft one. For those of you not familiar with that term, let me translate- old people food. Anything soft or seemingly pre-chewed would pass the mechanical soft test. I had oatmeal for breakfast (skip on the usual walnuts and raisins), a banana and half a muffin for a snack, a no-crust grilled cheese for lunch, and mushed up beans for dinner. I already miss my friends the fresh carrots and crisp apples. And yes, I consider myself friends with these two fiber-ful foods. Some of you may be familiar with this American foot-binding process or have teenagers living the dental dream right now, so I'd share my general condolences. Hopefully I'll get them off in 12 months but Zach informs me mouth construction is like building construction- never done on time. He gives me knowing looks of sympathy when I puff out my cheeks so the wire fixture in my mouth doesn't give me any more pain via friction. I never had these things as a kid but I can already tell, I will faithfully wear my retainer when it is all over. No way I'm doing this again!

Here's to all the kids who ever got called Brace-face.

The Wednesday Letters

I just joined a new book group last month and our first book to read together is The Wednesday Letters. Its a lovely tale of a couple that die in each others arms and their children discover hundreds of love letters from their Father to their Mother. Turns out that their father has written their mother ever Wednesday since they were married. These Christmas poems were supposed to be part of what the adult children discover but they were too good to keep to myself so I share them with you.

Sammie and Her Coat of Many Colors

For my daughter, Samantha

on our first Christmas together, 1958

I'd buy you a coat of your own,

but there is no cloth beautiful enough

to knit what you deserve

and no wealth to afford it.

I'd buy you a coat of your own,

but there are not enough colors in this world

to match your spirit

and no rainbow bright enough.

I'll buy you a coat of your own

in heaven.

The Fifth Season

For my wife, Laurel

on our tenth Christmas together, 1958

With each spring comes new life,

energy and green growth.

In summer comes the sun, warm, kind,

and enduring.

Fall brings its canvas of color in careful,

gentle change.

Winter brews into faithful strength,

beauty in pure white.

And then comes you.

You are all that Nature offers,

a blessing, a gift from Father.

You are the fifth season.

The Answer

For my son Matthew

on our eighth Christmas together, 1958

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

From within his sterling smile the order sometimes changes.

But the answer never does.

"A doctor, a policeman, a Chicago Cub, a TV man,

and a man. Can I?"

From Dad's slowly wrinkling smile the wording sometimes changes,

But the answer never does.

"You can."

The Dream

For my son, Malcom

on our fourth Christmas together, 1958

Each night in a dream

a wrinkled old man of philosophy

whispers in my ear,

"The perfect ones can be taken home early."

Each morning the new dawn

opens my sleepy, worn eyes

and sweeps me down a long hallway toward a small bed,

There's a boy in it.

He is my son.

And though I am only tending him,

I pray He will let us keep the boy another day.

My favorites are the ones to Laurel and Malcom but they are all good. I'm not quite done but so far this book gets two thumbs up.

I Beloved You David

Two hours and a hand cramp later...

behold the Lightning Mcqueen Cake, per request of the birthday boy. David introduced himself to people for the next two days saying, "I'm the birthday boy!"

The birthday bite.

Some very special letters for a very special boy. Some thing I love about David is how he still asks me to carry him to bed each night. He also loves to play with his brothers, especially Gabe, and it seems that nothing can crush his little spirit. He's unconquerable. Watch out world, here comes David. This past year he has learned to count to 20 and recognize the numbers, learned all the letters and their sounds, learned to go potty and how to ride a scooter, and decided that he doesn't care for naps anymore. We're working on putting the letter sounds together now to read simple words.

A few months ago Zach's Uncle David passed away and his sweet widowed wife, Aunt Shirley, sent us this picture of David as a child at about 1 1/2 years old. She also sent the accompanying name plaque with the meaning of the name David and where it comes from. I painted the letters and hung them up as part of his gift.

"David, The name is derived from the Hebrew words dad aveba, meaning beloved of Jehovah. It dates back to 170 BC as used by the boy who killed the giant Goliath with a slingshot, and later became the second king of Israel and author of the Psalms."

There's my three year old zipping around Kangaroo zoo. Of the three boys he's the only one that looks like me at all but in this picture I think he leans more towards the Hutchins side.

Another good looking kid I just thought I'd take a shot of.

Dad getting in on the action

We like to call this small child "dancy pants". He's into jumping, climbing, dancing, mov'n and groov'n right now. He enjoys the mini trampoline Grandpa Ogarek got David just as much as David does.

I thank Heavenly Father each night for giving you to us David.

Hey Mom, look what I found

I went outside yesterday morning to check on the boys and see how they were doing. Gabe sees me and comes towards me holding something in his hand. "Hey mom, look what we found. Its a dead mouse." Mom: "Eek" :giggle, giggle: Put it down, Mice have germs." Gabe drops it as though it is suddenly hot. David behind him, "Its not Dead, its only sleeping!" (I'm still laughing) "Both of you come inside before and wash your hands before we do anything else, ESPECIALLY before we have a snack. " Gabe wanted me to take a picture of him holding the mouse but I respectfully declined. I love having boys, they keep life interesting.

Dueling Trumpets

This orange beauty came from the dollar tree, purchased with David's own chore money. David's actually pretty good at buzzing his lips to get a sound out of the plastic horn.

=

Zach's instrument traveled a little further than David's. It came from his mission in Joao Pessoa 8 years ago. Its usual home is a nail above the kitchen doorway but it comes down every once in a while.

Our upstairs neighbor must love us.

Rudolph the red-nosed rein"dear"

This was my valentine's day. It was low-key but lovely.

Do you see the little "dear" nose on the left there? A wee bit red from a tumble yesterday. Dad made balloon hearts for the boys as a wake up surprise this morning.

The traditional valentine's day home-made apple pie. And yes, it's excellent. Ah-hem. One of the better desserts I make. Especially when I use my secret ingredient.

Morris the Moose said, I have a cold. My nose is walking." Borris the Bear said "You mean your nose is running." "No, " said Morris. "My nose is walking. I only have a little cold.

Boris said, "Let me feel your forehead." Morris said, "I don't have four heads!" Boris said, "I know you don't have four heads. But this is called your forehead." Morris said, "That is my ONE head." "All right, " Boris growled. "Let me feel your one head."

Sharing a punny book with Aunt Tina before Family Home Evening begins.

And if you are wondering what my valentine's gift from my husband was, well I'll give you a hint. It's tiny, and white, and thin and... don't wonder too hard. It is two tickets to a Passover feast next month. I'm excited, should be great. We're going on a date to the circus tomorrow too. Love to love you husband of my heart.

Compromise food

Compromise food. If you are a mom you know what I'm talking about. For all you non-mom's, or out of practice moms, let me explain. Its sort of like the Jiff Peanut butter commercial says- Mom's want nutrition, kids want taste. There's got to be a compromise somewhere. Sometimes the compromise comes in the form of two foods- You eat your carrots and I'll give you ranch dip, you eat this apple and I'll let you have cheese, finish your supper and I'll supply a piece of candy. On other occasions the two are one in the same- hence the compromise food. A little nutrition and a little taste. Thats what these are. We call them Pancake Poofs. I make whole wheat pancake batter, cook it in the special caste iron skillet, and then proceed to cover these miniature morsels in melted butter and roll them in cinnamon and sugar. Not quite whole wheat pancakes, not quite scones, but we all feel good about it. Whats your favorite "compromise food"?

Motion

I'm taking a photography class and this week the assignment was to take a picture that showed motion. The winner gets a free 11x14 print at a local print shop. Really, it would just be nice to take a good shot. Most of my basketball shots turned out too dark or blurry or both. My kids are cute to me, but I don't think other people appreciate them as much as I do. I emailed in the last photo. We'll see how it fares on Thursday night. The class gets to vote on it.

Busted!

I bust my kids all the time for doing naughty things like pushing or snatching or not sharing. In turn they tattle on each other in order that justice might be more fully served. This time, however, it was ME that got busted. Its not the first time either. You see these lovely pictures that my 2 and 4 year old have created? Well after a while they tend to accumulate and honestly, one looks about as much like art as the next. On occasion I feel the need to cleanse our house of such works of creativity so that they don't take over. I try to do it when the kids aren't looking and in a trash can that they can't see. WELL this time it didn't work. David pushed the kitchen trash can lid open and low and behold- one of his many paintings had "accidentally" slipped into the waste bin. Opps! "Mommy, this is my painting. Don't throw it away!" "Oh sorry baby, you can get it out" He'll even get Gabe's out, "Gabey likes this one. Its not trash." Darnet, foiled again. Maybe next time I'll just take them directly outside where he'll never find them because he's not tall enough to look into that trash can... mu hu ha ha ha. I know, I'm such a mean mother. I'll keep a representative sample, but so far, no budding Rembrandts reside here in the Orem Hutchin's household.