Pioneer Tribute

As members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, we have not one but 2 big holidays in the month of July: the 4th, of course, and the 24th. On July 24th we celebrate the arrival of the Mormon Pioneers in the Salt Lake Valley. This holiday has come to mean more than just commemorating the day an earthly place was settled. It embodies a spirit of reverence for those who literally gave all to follow their hearts and what they knew to be true. With the promise of a peaceful life, free of persecution, the pioneers left homes, lost family, and many lost their own lives. They went with hope in their hearts.

We look to our early progenitors and learn from their perseverance. We find hope in the midst of our own trials by hearing how they handled theirs'. I, personally, did not have any ancestors who crossed the plains, but my husband and children do. I'm thankful for their stories of faith, hope, love, and for the impact their lives have had on each generation leading up to that of my children.

With each Pioneer Day comes a Pioneer Day celebration. This year's celebration began with breakfast on the lawn, followed by pioneer games, and intermingled with lots of children running and laughing everywhere.

This Moment

{this moment inspired by Soule Mama} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

Happy Weekend to you!

Bedheads, Formals, and Bluegrass

It's 9 am, the wheat is grinding, a bluegrass concert is blasting from the TV and the girls are enthralled. Ava and Aria decide a change is in order, so they get into their finest apparel and the ball begins with their still night-gowned sisters. It's a rag tag, but beautiful combination in my eyes: bedheads, formals, and bluegrass.

The Dough Situation

We have a lot of fun at our house. There's a myriad of projects, toys, crafts, and other things we occupy ourselves with each day. I'm pretty open with what I'll let the kids play with, but there are a few exceptions. Some years ago, we instituted a life long ban on play dough in our house. Somehow it found its way into carpets, hair, and managed to be crumpled into tiny pieces and chunks as far as the eye could see. We tried monitored time, which worked, but little eyes and little hands would find some way to smuggle it out for some illegal playtime right underneath a certain mama's nose. Our solution was "the ban."

I've heard from all the other mamas how much their kids love it and all the ways to control the "play dough habit." Was I depriving my children of a significant childhood experience that would leave them scarred in adulthood? I found a solution that works for us.

Ava's snail

Trista's Snowgirl holding her doll

                                       

                  

Whenever breads, cookies, or anything else that involves a doughy start is brewing in the kitchen the chicklings come flocking to my side. Cookie cutters are rummaged from drawers, rolling pins grabbed, straws and skewers are gathered for decorating, and each child gets there own pinch of dough. Those little balls of clay-like goodness take so many different forms over the next hour or so, until their sculptors tire, shape them into one final form, and present them for baking. Sometimes the creations are eaten, sometimes they're just admired and then tossed in what is affectionately known as "file 13" in our house. Either way, my girlies have had their fun, there's no contraband to wreak havoc in our happy home, and I feel good as a mama for having let them express their creativity.

                                                   

Ari's folded blanket :)

Mornings with Maya and George

Morning routines come and go very quickly in the world of motherhood. Just when you settle into one something always seems to come along and upend it. For the moment I am immensely loving the newest morning moment and doing all I can to hold onto it.

My day begins each morning at 7 a.m. sharp with the sweet little squawking of, "Mama," coming from my sitting room (currently Maya's nursery.) I stumble out of bed, go to those little outstretched arms, and scoop up my still groggy babe. We make our way back to my bed for a little snuggle time followed by a reading from a collection Curious George. Maya's fascinated by this little monkey. Even though there's interest, she still has the attention span of a 16-month-old, and distractions occur: time to tickle Mama, requests for "Itsy, Bitsy Spider" (her favorite tune), time to jump on the pillows. I stop for a moment, indulge her, and then go back to the story. She's drawn back in.  When we finish she always takes the book and does a little "studying" of her own as she skims, usually backwards, through the book.

Maya shares her "study" time with big sister, Trista, the first to wake and join us in bed.

So far, she's picked up that ducks say "quack," and she can say yellow, which actually comes out sounding like "wewwow."  Truthfully? I'm busting with pride over those little accomplishments.

So, while, moments come and moments go way too fast in this whirling world of parenthood, I'm doing my best to cling to and savor even the tiniest ones.