Where the Dandelions Start

The day began like many other days...  a full two-and-a-half hours of logarithms, fractional exponents, thermo-chemical equations, and mass-heat calculations.  (I hopped on over to google just now to see how to spell Logarithms.)  By the end of the science/math marathon, the brain fog had rolled in pretty thick, and I was yet to help the girls with a single subject.  I called for one of the girls to bring books to the dining room table.  Apparently I seemed a bit frazzled, and the girls were quick to notice that my brain had slowed to a crawl.

"Are you stressed Mother?" asked Faith, smiling as if my mental state provided her some secret delight.  She squealed and jumped down from her chair telling me she had just the thing.  She ran to my tea basket and pulled out a packet of tea that read, "Stress Relieving Tea."  

"Here, I'll make it for her," said Gracie grabbing the packet.

It was truly one of the worst cups of tea I've ever had.  It tasted very much like what I imagine Lemon Pledge must taste like, but my girls' hearts and their sweet remedy made it one of my favorite cups of tea of all time.

Though the days of crawling around on the minivan floor picking up french fries have passed, it's the piecing together of such varied stages of life all at the same time that puzzles me these days.  Most days I know I'm dropping pieces on the floor.  The very moment I begin to feel that I'm figuring things out, I find that I'm missing another important piece.  And the important piece is never lying neatly on the table, but on the floor under the table...so that I must get down on the floor and crawl under the table to retrieve it.  (It might be worth mentioning that there are always toast crumbs under there...and sometimes stray chocolate chips.  It also might be worth mentioning that I did recently have to pick a few french fries off the minivan floor, and I found that it brought me an odd sense of joy.)

You know how when you're out jogging and a car passes you and you try really hard not to look as winded as you are...just a thought.

Although I know it's usually just me and the cyber crickets out here, I've given thought lately to parking a few deeper writings in a different spot...like somewhere to write about how the older I get, the more I understand just how little I know.  But, watching my youngest daughter "laugh through" and "love on" blog books that contain everything from birthday parties and braces - to heart-felt joys and sorrows,  I am content that for now, this is where the whole of life will come together on paper.  So, whether we're molding chocolates at Hershey or crying over spilled milk, my little dark-eyed wonder can read all about it here.

"It's ok that I'm not in the old home movies, Mother.  Because I have a whole book where I can read about me."

She thinks it's written "pacifically" for her.  I told her, "There are other people in the book, you know."          
                               

"Mother, how would you feel if you were in a hot bath, with hot tea, watching TV, with music playing, a rainbow over you, and the bills paid for 16 years?"

I'm wondering, does that question really need an answer?

There's that whole realm of mothering a child that sings opera and reads the dictionary... Recently an adult friend cracked a joke concerning someone "reading the dictionary".  Faith looked at everyone as if to say, "What? You all don't read the dictionary??!!"

In case you need proof.  Here's how I found her one night when I went in to say prayers at bedtime...

You might want a closer look...

The other week, she spent about an hour reading the Thesaurus.  Can you even imagine having time to sit and leisurely peruse the pages of the Thesaurus?  Gracie has been known to accuse Faith of leading a totally stress-free life.  That thought did come to mind when we were all sitting at the table waiting for Christian to come to devotions and Gracie yelled, "Christian, hurry up!  I have things to do!"   Then Faith yelled, "Well, I Don't!!"

I worked hard to get my children to call me "Momma".   It was all working out beautifully too, until one child decided I should be called "Mother" instead.  It was that same child who reassured me when I left the house one day recently that while I was gone, he was going to, "...get out every glass in the cupboard, put just a 'little' milk in each one, and then let them sit around on the counter."
(This was in response to my request that he make sure there were no dirty dishes sitting around when I got home...  Smart Aleck.)

It always makes me think of my Nanaw who worked so hard with her babies to get them to call her "Mother".  She would've been so pleased.

Long time readers here (my mom) may recall  a post entitled "Six Basic Facts of Life" in which I addressed "the deal with bags".   Those of you who are reading this post (my mom) may be interested to know that we do still have bag issues over here at With Grateful Hearts.

We've had bag issues ever since we made the trek to bring home the aforementioned dark-eyed wonder, so I thought perhaps we'd revisit it for just a moment.  We've got backpacks and bags and purses stuffed with who-knows-what from who-knows-where. Like the day that I noticed some type of crumb-like substance forming a trail around the house.  After assessing the situation, I decided to follow the trail and lo and behold, it led me right to a worn pink back pack.  As I lifted it, things began to fall.  My hand reached for the zipper but then, fortunately, common sense kicked in.

"Come here.  Take this backpack clear out to the middle of the yard and dump everything out of it!"

I followed behind to clean up the trail that led to the door.  She sat happily in the grass for quite some time going through all of her precious "things".

Now, because it may not be appropriate to do so...I will refrain from writing about the day that I discovered her purse was stuffed full of sanitary napkins.

Backing up a bit a lot (because I can't seem to stay awake long enough at night to blog anymore)...

Christian is now 17.  (I do realize I'm covering about 10 months in this writing.  He'll probably be 21 by the time I get this posted.)

I realize 17 is not the momentous birthday upon which one crawls behind the wheel of a car.  However, I just happen to like this photo.  He's looking rather swaggish, don't you think?   Do other families use the word "swaggish", or just ours?

We made lots of trips to Chimney Rocks last fall.  These photos of Mitchell and Christian obeying the park's signs are my favorites.

I love these photos so much.  I love these guys so much.

The view from Chimney Rocks.  

Such incredible beauty here in the Allegheny Mountains.

I never get used to it.  I am so grateful. 

Mitch, Mitchell, and Christian playing football in the yard.

I call this next one "Stone Soup"

Hiking up Chimney Rocks.

Mitch, Matthew, Kelli, Gracie.  Taking this made me a little nauseous.  What you cannot hear in the photo is me yelling, "Get back from the edge!"

Winter took a long time in coming this past year.  We had the most incredible fall!  For the first two months of the school this year, we piled onto the trampoline in the sunshine several days a week for devotions, poetry, and reading aloud together.  Oh, and it was so good, and beautiful, as the leaves turned and we enjoyed the beautiful colors, because we can see for miles and miles out over the mountains from our yard.  I am so grateful for that.

Don't know if I've ever posted a picture of the view from my kitchen window...

The highest peak of the farthest mountain on the left side of the photo is the highest point in the state.  It is a ski resort.  I love, love the view from my kitchen window.  On winter nights we can see the ski slopes all lit up.

Having bought these razor scooters when the boys were young, they still rank as one of the best purchases we've ever made.  We literally use them almost daily.

Who doesn't love a good old fashioned game of cops and robbers.

Matthew gets taken to jail...

I call this one "Kelli goes fast"

Trying to remember all the hand signs Matthew and Faith used to do for their made-up words like "skeechy" and "awkwards"

The scooter gang

I have no idea what this next one is...

Matthew and Kelli

I love the things we read about in our schooltime Bible stories together this year.  We read a lot about the Israelites in the wilderness.  Some days I feel like the kids are listening, and some days I feel like they're not.  Sometimes I'll come across something so utterly profound to me, and I'll look over to see if it's profound to them, and there they are... in all their beautiful 'young-ness'... doing that "quit touching me," "quit kicking me" thing instead of listening.

And I realize that life experience is what brings "profoundness" to things.

My sweet Gracie is moved by simple things.  She is a great lover of beautiful sunsets and starry nights.

The trampoline has been a huge hit around our house this past year.  We've spent countless hours on it and many nights lying looking up at the stars.  We watched a meteor shower lying on it, shivering under blankets with Gracie's sweet friends, Madison and Taylor.  It was incredible.  We did lots of squealing with delight out there in the dark in the middle of the night.  We squealed and laughed.

Gracie with Madison and Taylor. They are twins!  Taylor's eyes in this photo haunt me.  Such incredible beauty.  I love these girls.

Like I said, the trampoline has been a hit with everyone...

And we exercise the best possible safety standards by only allowing one person on at a time.

Oh darn...don't tell anyone you saw the following onslaught of trampoline photos...

This dear girl is the hug-giver and the support-giver.

Gracie's dance class had her bring her ukulele to a party at the dance studio.  They sat for a long time singing together.  You know what they say, "The dance team that sings together... "

     

Actually nobody says that.

One of our memory verses is James 4:17.  "Therefore to him who knows to do good and does not do it, to him it is sin."   Gracie explained at devotions that what this verse means is that since Christian knows he should bake cookies for us and does not do it....it is sin.

Faith asked me if I was thankful for memories.

"Yes,"

"So am I.  I liked it when I used to make coffee with Matthew every morning and we said, "Meet me in the chicken."  (I love it so much when I hear stories about things the kids did that I never knew about.  Apparently it's what they told each other before going to bed in order to plan to meet up in the "kitchen" to make coffee the next morning.)

She said, "I liked it when Matthew used to babysit me.  He would give me three choices, we could play a game together, we could watch something together, or he could carry me around wrapped up in the rug."

"Ewww, that's kind of yucky," I said.  "The rug's not clean."

"Well, that's usually what I picked.  He would roll me up in the rug and then carry me somewhere and I had to guess where we were going!  I loved it."

Ahhh, memories.  That particular one doesn't really appeal to my sense of cleanliness or my dislike of being trapped in small places.  But, oh well, she loves her memory of it and that made me smile and love it right along with her.

You know how you have those stories that simply must be written down for posterity even though they involve unmentionables...

A while back, it came to our attention that Faith hides her underwear.  It all came to light as I was trying to pack her a change of clothing and couldn't find any underwear.   Since then, my dad decided that this was a great idea.  So, he asked Faith to come and help him hide his underwear.  He told her when he hides things himself, he usually forgets where he put them.  One night when I was putting her to bed she told me, "I'm going to tell you where I hide my underwear, but don't tell anyone, cause then word will get out!"

Faith turned nine just before the holidays.  Jennie made her a mermaid cake as she requested.

Just after Thanksgiving I ended up with a case of pneumonia that was pretty hard to shake.  It took four rounds of antibiotics and a short hospital stay to kick it, but it was my home-care nurse that really did the trick...

Dr. Faith stayed by my bedside much of the time.

                                                                                                                                         

She assessed my symptoms.

It was probably my "blue" muscle tone and "bad" cry that led her to my diagnosis... "fever".

Here's some proof that it snowed this winter...

Mitch liked his new snow toy...

The neighbor liked HIS new snow toy better...

We had some wonderful "cousin visits" this winter.  My cousin Laurie's sweet daughter Eve came to stay for a while.  Such a sweetie pie.  And of course, since they are girls, they wanted a photo shoot.  Girls always want photo shoots, right?
I have looked at the following photo a million times.  I just think it's so beautiful.  It captures their personalities perfectly.  I love these girls.

And my cousin Ronda's dear son William came to stay and ski Blue Knob with us.  

So fun.

Blue Knob is the view from my kitchen window!!  

We did so much skiing this winter that I am afraid I'm going to have to add a whole plethora of ski photos at this point.  It was inevitable that I would reach this point in my post because our winter mostly consisted of skiing and dance competition.  Guess you know what's coming after the ski pictures.  Here we go...

First, two photos of myself just because I like them. (How often does that happen?)  These were taken at Timberline in March...spring skiing.

There was this fall at Blue Knob that Mitch graciously captured for me..

The slope that Christian and I really shouldn't have been on at Timberline...

It got so steep in places that if I looked up, I couldn't see Christian (who was behind me) because he'd be behind a ledge he hadn't crested yet.  You'd think that after all these years, I would understand that when Mitch says something isn't too difficult for me, that he's assessing it from his expert skier point of view.

At one point, I looked up (way up) as Christian crested into my view.  He hollered down the slope, "How you doin' down there, Mother?"  Made me laugh.

Did I mention that when we got to the bottom, we did it all over again?

We only got Gracie on the slopes twice.  She followed her Daddy around and all was going well until she got flattened by an out-of-control snowboarder.  Now she's afraid.

I can't believe we actually gave this sport up for so many years! Now I remember why I loved it so much.  But there were the babies, and then the toddlers, and then the....oh well...you know how it goes...

It was so fun to watch my man enjoy being back in his element.  Did I mention he was a ski instructor when I met him?  Old second nature, I'd see him doing things like pulling a little kid back up over an embankment he'd gone over, or picking a little girl out of the snow and asking her, "Did anybody teach you to snowplow?"  I enjoyed watching him enjoy it.

One of my favorite things about skiing....

The incredible views!

Mitch and William

The most incredibly beautiful day of the year.  The view on the way up Blue Knob.  A winter wonderland.

I wish pictures could have captured the beauty of that day.  The guys got really sick of waiting for me to take photos.  Every branch of every tree was covered in ice.  This little trail through the woods was like an ice castle.  So beautiful.  Christian discovered it and then took me through it.  It was incredible.  The photo doesn't even begin to live up.

Spring skiing at Seven Springs.

And to finish off the snow pictures...

Came across this when I was looking through some old journals...

A picture of Mitchell that I love.  I did not take this picture, nor was I there when it was taken, nor do I know who took it...but I'm glad they did

It just screams out, "This photo was taken in Nashville, doesn't it?"

I miss him so much.

My Dad and Faith...

this is the perfect portrait of their relationship.  They entertain each other so well...like this wax lips purchase.  Faith goes to my mom and dad's house just about every Saturday morning.  Pappy gives her a little handwritten menu with about three breakfast choices on it.  She has to check the box beside the one she wants and then he makes it for her.  They thought these wax lips would be a wise purchase.

A photo of Mom and Dad.  I love how their parents are in the background of this photo.

My grandparents:  Lewis and Evelyn Hoover on top and Ed and Anna Mary Shaw on the bottom.

Actually some of their grandparents are in the photo too!!

A cloudy day below.  This girl goes with me on almost every jog. (She scooters)  We jog, scooter, bike, and go for walks up around the commuter airport just behind our house.  It's a gorgeous place for such activities.  Beautiful views and no cars.  She is a great encouragement to me, yelling, "You can do it, Mother! You can do it!" when I'm trying to run up the hills.

She does this for me even though I took her favorite denim shorts.  I had tried unsuccessfully to hide them several times, because she would not quit wearing them.   She wore them nearly every day around the house.  Problem was, she wore them many days to LEAVE the house as well.  They had a big hole in the front that she thought she covered with her tee...but she didn't.  She had them on in the waiting area of the dance studio and one of the older girls said, "Faith, there's a big hole in the front of your shorts!"  The next day, when I went into her room to wake her up she said, "I had a dream last night that my shorts fell apart and fell off and then I didn't have any pants on!"  Let's just say it made it a little easier to help them disappear.  Instead of throwing them into the trash, I threw them into the deep recesses of my closet.  That way when she asks me if I threw them away, I can respond with a hearty, "No," thereby avoiding further trauma. 

She does, indeed, prefer to stick to one article of clothing until either she loses it or I take it (whichever comes first).   This past winter it was a red shirt.  She wore it so much that Jennie showed up at the front door one day, handed her a bag and said, "Here, this is because I'm so sick of you wearing that red shirt." 

Now for the dance portion.  

We spend countless hours at the dance studio.  Kind of like how we used to spend countless hours at the baseball field with the boys.  I often think how confusing it would be if we hadn't had all the boys first, AND THEN all the girls.

Gracie eats and sleeps dance and has wanted to compete for several years.  So this year, we finally took the plunge.  We painted up the windows, packed up the van with costumes, stage makeup, dance shoes, and of course, friends, and headed out.

 (Christian said, "It's about time this boat gets some recognition!" when he noted that this photo of our mini maxi-van made the center collage of the dance recital program.)

  Mitch wore his Dance Dad shirt proudly.  Gracie competed in pointe solo, and group tap, jazz, contemporary, and hip hop.  This was taken before her solo performance at Headliners.  She portrayed Katniss Everdeen in her solo "Chroma" from the Hunger Games.  It was beautiful.

Following are photos from her solo.  Miss Becky called Gracie her "pointe girl".  She adores pointe and her technique is beautiful.

      Gracie and her dear friend Lydia. Lydia graduated and we are having a hard time imagining dance without her.  Both of their solos placed in the top five at Headliners.

Gracie and Allison Griffith

 We love these teachers.   Miss Lucrecia   

                                                           

and Miss Robin.

                                           

Miss Robin choreographed the most incredible tap number to "Crazy Frog" for our girls this year.  It wasn't initially supposed to be a competition number, but it was just so good that they couldn't resist. 

Hip Hop "Lipgloss"

"Cold-hearted Snake"

Selfies with Daddy before performing "Dollhouse"

Performing "Lipgloss" at Ticket to Broadway in Lancaster.

Award time at Encore in Johnstown.

Gracie and her sweet friend, Hayley.

Recital night.  Faith and Hayley.

Faith and Mya

In the dressing rooms at the Michler on recital night.

Miss Lucrecia and Miss Becky

What a gorgeous recital!  It was so special.  These girls worked so hard.

Matthew 20, Gracie 13, Christian 17

Hayley, the cutest photo bomber.

Gracie, Kelli, and Lydia

Gracie and Kiki

One of the things we loved most about dance competitions was simply the down-time spent together.  On this particular night, the girls ran back and forth like this in the hotel pool for so long that Miss Becky had to make them stop for fear they'd all have sore legs the next morning.

It was a good season filled with lots of special memories.  Like how Lydia walked Gracie to the side of the stage every time for her solo and then waited there for her to finish...and Gracie did the same for her.  Oh, how we love you, Lydia. 

There was the good and the bad.  Like the day at Encore when Gracie was very sick yet performed all day and we wondered how she did it.

It was bonding.  During one awards ceremony, as they were shooting sparkles and glitter into the air, I turned to the mom beside me and said, "Seriously, what girl wouldn't love this!"  

It was all about hard work and friends and laughter and tears, and it was good.

and so, with the end, comes the beginning. and now we start all over again

I heard one dance mom put it like this...

"There are lots of hard things in life that we worry about. We all need some fun  things... and this makes me happy."

I couldn't have put it better myself.

I'm tucking away all these beautiful memories about all these beautiful children.  (You know how the big ones think they're not children anymore just because they're adults?  Go figure.)  To my children...you are all extraordinarily beautiful to your mother.

To my one that thinks he or she needs to be strong and perfect all the time...  I'm not strong all the time..heck, I'm not even strong half the time....and as for perfect...I'm pretty sure I've never been perfect a day in my life.  I'm your biggest fan.  You are like no one I've ever known.   I'm so proud of you.

To my one that thinks he or she maybe isn't good enough....  Believe in yourself the way that I believe in you.  You are more than good enough.  You are so amazingly capable.  I'm so proud of you.

To my one who thinks he or she should tuck everything away.... When you speak, it is music to my ears.  I care about everything that's inside of you.  You are the bomb.  I'm so proud of you.

To my one that thinks he or she must wonder or doubt.... You are beloved and cherished.  You are treasured with an everlasting love. You are thought about night and day, and day and night.  I'm so proud of you.

To my one that thinks...well, I don't rightly know what he or she thinks .... and isn't that what makes you who you are.  I'm pretty sure you are the most interesting person in all the world.  You are an amazing creation.  I'm so proud of you.

I jogged past them, and of course, Faith scootered beside.  It was the mother and daughter hugging goodbye on the airport sidewalk.  It was the faces that caught my eye.  As they pulled back and looked at each other, the daughter smiled..... and the mother cried.

 I knew.  

It is what it is.

It's that your heart is never your own anymore.  Because each one is a particular and all-important piece of your heart.   Like a puzzle, I guess.

Over here at With Grateful Hearts, we get stuff wrong... and we get stuff right.  It's what we do.

"I know how to tell when I'm in our yard," she announced.
"By looking at the corner marker?" I assumed.
"No," she said, "it's not the corner marker.  It's where the dandelions start, that's how!"

I guess the only question left to ask is this...

Who ever decided that dandelions weren't beautiful?

Now, if you need me, I'll be in that tub with the rainbow over it.  I'm heading over there mostly because I've heard that the bills there are paid for 16 years in advance.   I figure by that time I'll have everything figured out, and it's a good thing because...

clover is right around the corner, you know.