Never Never Land

I've been leading a sort of Peter Pan existence...

My mom decides what's for dinner. I chitter and chatter with my sisters throughout the day. I took walks with my mom until I got too lazy for the 6:30 start time. Enoch is staying here while he's getting his house ready for his family so it's been marvelous to see him at breakfast and dinner. I've been hanging out with Tabor during the day. My dad helped me figure out how to fix my bracelet. I feel like I've sort of recaptured some of my happy and carefree childhood days this week.

And I've enjoyed it.

But I miss Adam. I do I do. He'll be here tonight and I'm glad.

Even though it means we'll be going back to reality (when I have to decide what's for dinner).

Some things are worth growing up for.

Thelma Plus Five

I think if John and Kate (or is it Jon and Kate? I'm shaky with my pop culture knowledge) deserve a camera crew, I did too.



I just had a lunch date with three 6 year olds and two 7 year olds.



It was an adventure.



First I made them all close their eyes and vote for McDonald's or Burger King. This is not my first rodeo and I didn't want any peer pressure or wounded feelings.



Burger King won by a wide margin. So Mark, Liliana, Hyrum, Morgan and Gabe and I headed out.



Liliana belongs to Olivia, Hyrum and Morgan belong to Marianne (Morgan is staying with them indefinitely since his mother died) and Gabe belongs to family friends of Marianne's.



I ordered 5 kids meals and a chicken sandwich. Chaos ensued at the soda fountain. I got all the drinks lidded and straws inserted and cleaned up the spills and sat them all down.



Sort of.

Imagine trying to sit 5 puppies down at a booth at Burger King.

The kids meals arrived and the food was forgotten in favor of the toys. Transformers. They didn't have girl toys so Lili set her toy aside in disgust and sipped her lemonade. Gabe and Hyrum, the world wise seven year olds announced they were going to trade their toys in. Mark agreed. Morgan had already opened his toy. So as the three boys approached the counter Morgan turned to me and in his heart breaking and halted way he said, "Want new toy," and big tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.

Well that just about killed me.

I asked Lili if Morgan could have her (still packaged) toy so he could trade it in and she agreed. Morgan smiled and took the toy up to the counter. Lili stared at the Transformer Morgan had handed her. "Maybe you can give it to Ruben (her little brother)," I offered.

She nodded then burst into tears.

"Then I won't get a toy!" she wailed, "I want a toy."

OK OK. I promised we'd go to the tiny grocery store and buy her a toy.

"We'll get a girl toy," I promised her enthusiastically.

Lunch over, I cleaned up all the detritus and we gathered the Transformers and first graders and climbed back in the van.

The seatbelt ordeal took awhile.

Then to Roy's Market and Grocery Store. I told Lili we were getting her a toy and she said, "I'm not getting an imMODest one." Yeah, she's Olivia's daughter.

The teeny shelf of junky toys was about as exciting as you can imagine. Lili looked and looked and I couldn't blame her for not being able to decide. Nothing was very tempting. Meanwhile the boys were having sword fights with the nearby yard stakes.

Finally Lili made her selection and we were ready to go when the boys announced they needed to use the bathroom. All four of them. I sent Hyrum as the leader back to the back of the store and I kept Lili with me to buy the toy from the contemptuous clerk. I went back to find the boys taking chocolate, strawberry and banana milk out of the dairy case. (Did you know they had banana milk? Because I did not.)

I herded them back to the van and my cell phone rang. It was my mom. The ride home for my crew. She said she'd be there soon and I said, "We're going to the park." I was almost positive we were miliseconds from being booted out of Roy's Market.

We went to the park. Liliana proudly showed me the features of her little doll that we'd bought. I told her I was glad that she found a girl toy because "we girls need to stick together." Her smile rewarded the dairy case incident. Morgan showed me his Bumblebee Transformer car and said, "Go fast!" and grinned. Hyrum and Gabe and Mark climbed and chased and acted like boys and I felt like I was a lucky woman to spend the time with these rambunctious charming children.

I just need to rest up before I do it again!

The Perfect One

I've reminded my mom a few times that today is the anniversary of the first walk on the moon (as opposed to the first moonwalk...I'm not sure when Michael Jackson pulled that off). My mom forgets because it's also Ammon's birthday...a day much more significant to her.


And rightly so. Because he's the Perfect One. My mom said it took 6 kids to finally get a perfect child. This would bother me but I think she's right.


Ammon is tall and gangly, witty and good at fixing things just like my other brothers. He graduated from BYU like my sisters and me.


But he's also Different.


While the rest of us are loud (and kind of obnoxious), he's pretty quiet.


While the rest of us are sort of co-dependent, he's independent.


While the rest of us tend to brag and talk a lot about ourselves, Ammon is extremely humble.


Perfect.


He's also movie star handsome. That's what my mom's friend decided. If I had my own pictures to attach to this blog (instead of coming to you live from the Shine 'N Chrome in Wells, NV), I would insert a picture here and you could see what I mean.


Since I am 10 years older than him, Ammon thinks I'm impossibly old. Which is OK because for a long time he was frozen as the 8 year old boy he was when I graduated from high school. He was a cute 8 year old. He took sun protection very seriously. He wore long sleeve shirts and a hat always "because he didn't want to get skin cancer". He rode his bicycle until he got extremely sweaty (under all those clothes) then he'd come inside for a drink out of the water bottle he carefully kept in the refrigerator. He loved guns (I have a picture of him sleeping with his brand new BB gun on his 8th birthday) and sports (I have a picture of him shooting baskets while standing on an overturned 5 gallon bucket). He wanted to "be Enoch's hired man" when he grew up and he had a grand plan that he needed to marry a wife with a ladder so he could build a house after he got married.


(I didn't know Melanee well when they got married but I instantly knew I'd love her when she gave Ammon a ladder for a wedding gift.)


Every year for Ammon's birthday he wanted to go to nearby Boulder Creek for a weiner roast.


Ammon at eight.


I'm sorry I went to college and missed the rest of his growing up years.


Once when I was home visiting and he was in high school, he came home from a track meet. My mom said, "How was it, Ammon?"


He said, "Fine."


"Did you do well?"


He shrugged.


"Did you win?"


"Yeah."


"How high did you jump?" (high jump was his event)


He told her and she said, "Isn't that beating your record?"


He said yes.


"Is that breaking the school record?"


He said yes. Then he added that he thought it broke the state record too.


Anyone else in our family would have certainly led with that little fact.


But not Ammon. My dad told him once he would be a spectacular prisoner of war. It's difficult to get a lot of information out of him.


He was on the BYU track team also. Once he was talking on the phone to my dad who was trying to get information about a track meet.


My dad said, "So did you jump?"


"Yes."


"Did you get high?"


"They don't let us do that at BYU."


Ammon. My baby brother. The Perfect One.

Happy Birthday.


I forgive you for stuffing me in the coat closet when you got bigger than me. I'm sorry that Marianne and Olivia and I always thought we were your mothers too.


If you were here I'd be first in line for the weiner roast at Boulder.


I love you.

Who...Me?

I am different from my sisters. If you knew my sisters you'd know what I'm talking about.

Sure, we have our similarities...a lot of them. We are all three trying our hardest to be like our mother when we grow up so we end up being a lot the same.

But there are differences. While they are effervescent in social situations and flit from person to person making sure everyone feels comfortable, I sit on the sidelines...sort of hoping no one will talk to me.

When we got to the reunion last week, my mom wanted me to go and mingle with my seldom seen cousins and aunts and uncles. I wanted to sit myself in the cocoon of my siblings.

At a ward party, I sat on a bench and watched my sisters in action until Tabor and Katie got there and I had someone to talk to.

I don't know why I'm so antisocial...I think I'm lazy. It's just easier to stay in my shell on the sidelines.

Tonight was the 4-H gala event of the year. A fund raising dinner and "slave auction" and dessert auction. I bought a plate of my niece Clarissa's cookies for $10 which was a steal. Emma paid Deseret $.50 to paint her face and Mark paid Emma $.50 to paint his (I'm assuming Emma gave the money to the Starr Valley 4-H club) and Braeden paid $3 to throw 36 sponges at someone.

He also thought he'd made a really good bargain.

My sisters were in the thick of things and I was lingering at the side. Wondering if I still fit in here at all...me with the dried out skin not used to the desert, me with the kids in sandals and shorts while every one else was wearing jeans and boots as far as the eye could see.

Then I talked to Doris. My mom asked Doris if she remembered me. She said, "Oh, yes. I remember Thelma. My mom always thought so much of Thelma."

Me? Really? People always think a lot of Marianne and Olivia...but Me? I sit on the side. I'm not all that friendly. Or cheerful.

But Mary Lou thought highly of me.

And I thought highly of her. And suddenly despite the sandal feet and kids in shorts and t-shirts, despite the fact that I no longer know everyone and everyone no longer knows me, I felt like I still do belong. I felt like it's OK to be Thelma, on the sidelines, not Marianne or Olivia.

Just Thelma.

And that's OK.

Yesterday I Learned...

1. I need to get my grandma an updated picture of my kids. She told me several times in not subtle ways. I need to do it and quick or I may lose my favorite grandchild status. (My siblings or cousins may beg to differ but I'm boldly staking my claim as favorite...I'm drawing on my status as the namesake.)

2. No matter how many dirty looks and head shaking I send Emma's way, she will ask my grandma to play the player piano and no matter how many times I tell my grandma not to worry about it because I don't want to bother her, my grandma will dig around in her closet until she finds a scroll that will work for the player piano. Because Emma wants to. She's a grandma like that.

3. A life full of service is an inspiring and interesting thing...and something I want. We took a tour yesterday from a man at the Conference Center in downtown Salt Lake City. He had served as bishop and a mission president and I'm sure a lot of other things as well. He knew a lot about the Conference Center and a lot about Everything Else and I want to be like that when I grow up.

4. Standing in the Oquirrh Mountain temple with my children and Adam (we went to the open house yesterday) reaffirmed to me how important it is that I stand inside a temple with all of my children again someday. It matters to me more than anything else that I could possibly hope for them. It matters enough that I rededicated myself to do Whatever I Can to help make that a reality.

Whatever it takes.

Memory Lane

Yesterday we took our kids to see the sights of our alma mater. It was great to be back at BYU. It was great to see all the old familiars. We were impressed by the new things.

The unsettling things were those that had changed.

The library.

I felt like what I imagine an Alzheimer patient might feel. It seemed like I should remember it. I did remember some things (the bathrooms and staircases are exactly the same) but I couldn't get my bearings otherwise...I couldn't even figure out how it used to look. It had changed that much.

In the library we also ran into a friend we knew in the Yale student ward. It was great to see him and reconnect. He had been Braeden's nursery leader (I've always hoped that Braeden having a Yale Divinity School PhD student as a nursery leader gave him a spiritual leg up). He had also changed though...he had a different wife than he did back in Connecticut...

The Cannon Center...the place where Adam and I ate most of our meals together (along with Erin and Rachel and Robbie), is gone. Gone. There's a new Cannon Center in its place.

Not the same.

The BYU bookstore was the same.

And we did our part to stimulate the economy (and give Braeden a reason to wake up at 6:30 this morning and quietly read in our hotel room).

We met Adam's freshman roommate and our friend Robbie for dinner at a park. We had not met his (very nice) wife and six (!) children so that was great. We reminisced about old times and old people. We caught up on the past several years. We talked like old friends. Because we are.

Mark was not his flamboyant self yesterday. He had tummy troubles and wanted to lay down most of the day. Poor kid...we made him forge on. Last night I was laying in bed with my arms around him, lending my motherly sympathy and I thought about our day.

I can't expect BYU not to change.

Especially when I consider all the myriad ways I have changed.

And I would never go back.

Because then I would not have my Mark in my arms...or Braeden and Emma for that matter.

There Is Beauty All Around

I live in one of the most gorgeous places I know. And I appreciate it. I love love love the tall trees, the majestic and dramatic volcanoes, the Puget Sound.

But there's just something about deserts.

Despite my tired eyes (and I won't complain at length about that because I've already complained enough in person about being tired...and I slept REALLY well last night), I have been feasting on some beautiful scenery.

Yesterday morning I sat on the couch in my parents' living room and saw the sun rise over the mountains that watched over me as I grew up.

We stopped at the Salt Flats yesterday on our way to Provo. The stark and harsh place is beautiful in its own bizarre way. We stood on the spongy salty ground with hot wind swirling around us and Mark looked for a rock to throw. When we climbed back in our van, grateful for things like water, my lips tasted salty.

The air was unsettled and there was wind and rain and sun and lightening all along the way. Every way you looked there were clouds in amazing configurations, dark and stormy, puffy and whimsical, or with sunlight streaking through them.

We drove a back way around the Oquirrh Mountains, through what I think is called Cedar Valley. My grandparents used to live in that valley and I have to think they were sad to leave a place with mountains like that. Enchanting mountains, ringing you protectively.

Then Provo. Did I fall in love with Adam because I met him in Provo or did I fall in love with Provo because this is where I met Adam? I don't know.

But I love them both.

What a beautiful world in all its variety.

Then I started thinking about the variety of people I've seen on this little trip of ours. I like the spice differences add to our humanity.

We went to a Dahl family reunion on Saturday. There was my enormous and shaggy headed professional football playing cousin, Harvey. There was the tall skinny cowboy contingency, of which there are several members, headed up by my brother Tabor with the fancy mustache. (Also Adam caught me from falling over when Tabor was impersonating Mike from Wells Auto...I was laughing that hard.) There was my cousin Micah the musician (who was just a skinny kid in my memory that I didn't really know and turned out to be a really witty and interesting grown up...still skinny), my cousin Zachary the cerebral software engineer, my cousin Jessica who pulled out her bagpipes and played a bit, my cousin Margaret who I grew up with but I think the only things we had in common then were that we graduated from the same high school and had the same grandparents. Now our lives are eerily the same. We each have three kids. Our older two are on swim teams, our oldest sons--both twelve--are heading off to scout camp this summer, our ten year old daughters followed Marianne's daughter Deseret around all day and our youngest two are entering first grade. I just loved chatting with her.

This tapestry of cousins, 38 of us in all, far flung in our interests and occupations and geography but all loving a small, slightly bent 91 year old grandmother. We have different children of all different shapes and sizes but they threw tiny green apples at each other in the orchard like we used to and discovered the fascinations of the big red barn.

Differences and sameness.

I'm grateful for it all.

I'm grateful for a Heavenly Father who created everything and everyone to be so very interesting.