Let Them Be Little

When I was going through albums recently, I came across this picture of my little sister Chrysta. I was in college when we took this, and I have to say, I got a little choked up because I had forgotten what it was like to be so much bigger than her. She's quite grown up now (just engaged, actually).

And Shana (the youngest) is now in college herself. Admittedly, it is fun to be grown-ups together. We just had some of the most fun I can remember shopping for wedding dresses. But I miss the days when I could pick them up and hold them. Here's what Shana looked like when I was in highschool:

And here's my own little girl. I can't imagine what it will feel like when I can't hold her anymore...

Congratulations to the 9th Wellman to take the plunge. Go Chrysta! Here are the Wellman women who were at the blessed shopping event...and more importantly, here is THE dress!

Now I Can Say It Was Summer

My parents weren't California people. Rocky Point was our beach and we went there every once in a while on a spring break. We went skiing some winters. Once we took a big long road trip to Canada, and we did Disneyland a few times, which was wonderful! But we didn't take regular summer vacations, and we didn't adopt San Diego as our summer staple - I learned that from the Schaubs! And now that I'm totally spoiled by them, summer doesn't seem official until I've been to the beach and back. Thanks be to a generous God in heaven for blessing me with a whole second family who continues to bestow the glorious gift of a California vacation on me. Thank heaven they started stowing me away at a young age in their big grey conversion van for a week of beach bliss that I neither earned nor deserved. And why they still count me in, I do not know, but just a few weeks ago they put me up with my husband and kids in a lovely room right on the Carlsbad coast. Thank you Kimber, for card games and paddle ball, for long piers and boardwalks, body surfing and sun bathing. Thank you for happy, happy memories. The mere smell of sunblock and seaspray reminds me of you and your family. Here are some pictures of us, old and new.

Kindergarten Baby

Boy, do I love this beautiful kid. What a sweet, happy, funny little person he is. And now he is a kindergartner! No, I did not cry. But I did beam with pride...just a little bit.

Here are my handsome men in their dapper uniforms
on the first day of school:

Living the Legend

Happy eighth birthday to my little man who is a lover of all things mechanical and robotic that require assembly. Actually, "happy" may be an understatement, because we threw a Bionicle bash that only his eight-year-old imagination could have concocted, and that over-indulged his appetites for fun and sugar. The play-by-play goes a little something like this:

1. Craft project resulting in fabulous Bionicle masks for one and all (Complete with photo shoot).
2. Consumption of Bionicle cake - designed, crafted and decorated by birthday boy.
3. Massive ravaging of gift packages to retrieve most beloved presents.
4. A good go-around of the candy bar game.
5. Bionicle treasure hunt for party favors (All clues must first be decoded!).

What a fun group of rowdy boys and a great day. Thanks for coming, friends!

Hanna really had no place at a party like this. I thought about sending her away to a friends house. Then I decided to just put her in a party dress and let her try to blend in.

She did just fine.

Stolen Inspiration

My friend Toria posted this little piece of wisdom and I fully agree so I thought I'd share:



Being A Mom

sometimes I get a complex about my talents, my goals, my ambitions.
I feel capable of so much, and clueless of how to do so many things.
I recognize my talents
as well as my weaknesses
and sometimes I get what John so appropriately calls the "jack of all trades, master of none" complex
and it makes me kinda down
so to perk me up, I think about all the things I am good at, kinda good at, interested in, or proficient at and wonder which one I want to become really good at.
which one I should focus my energy on.
and
I.
can't.
decide.
so I start thinking about how to focus on multiple things.
what job would allow me to do this, with the freedom and flexibility to do that?
and then I wonder:
should I be diagnosed with A.D.D?
or maybe I should take one of those career placement test things so I can have someone (or thing) who doesn't know me tell me where to focus my energy?
and why didn't I do that in college?
why didn't I really feel like I had something mastered when I graduated?
maybe I should go back to school?
but what will I study?
I like this.
I'm pretty good at that.
I wonder if there's a program for....?
what job would allow me to do a little of everything?
and all of the sudden a light bulb turned on.
I thought, "I bet if I put in my talents, and interests and aspirations..."
"...the job that would fit me best would be being a mom"

(if it's possible to think/feel "duh" and "wow" at the same time, that's what happened)

I mean, I've heard all the poems and stories about how moms do it all.
and it's not that I was just seeing it fit together in that way for the first time.
it was just the first time that I realized that
I am meant for motherhood AND motherhood is meant for me
being a mom and doing the "mommy" things is fun to me.
it fits.
I enjoy it.
I mean, not that I don't have bad moments or not so exciting moments,
but I really
like
motherhood.
and I think by liking it, I'm pretty good at it.
and can become better at it.
I like exploring different talents and interests (often in the name of doing it for the kids)
I like that I can be a party planner/ cake decorator and a nurse/ health educator or a designer/ seamstress.
I can dabble in this and that and the other thing
and embrace my ADD.
I will learn to be ok with the idea that to everyone else, I may be a "jack of all {or some} trades, master of none."
and I will strive to be the master of one.
the one job I already have and that fits my skill set.

being their Mom.

which is no easy task and not something I can attain overnight
but it's do-able
and exciting.

First Birthday

When it comes to families, there are good things and bad things about growing old and gaining experience. We've learned a thing or two about birthdays, for example. Or should I say that I've learned how to make them easier on myself? My fourth baby just turned one, and unlike our first baby (who had two fully decked-out, themed 1st birthday parties - one for each side of the family), we didn't make much of a show. We carried out the typical traditions, but we did them very low-scale, with no prior preparation, and no guests other than ourselves and our little guest of honor. The birthday boy had one cake and got one present, which to me felt perfect since he just turned ONE! It's funny though, because I hesitated to let any of the other children touch his new toy. It dawned on me that this was the first and only thing we had ever bought just for him. Being our 3rd boy and our 4th child, he is the royal heir of many, many hand-me-downs. It seemed like he deserved to be the sole proprietor of that toy, at least for one day. And that's not the only injustice he suffers for being fourth. I don't take as many pictures of him and I still haven't written about the day he was born in my journal. Ironically, I was the fourth child in my family and since I shared his plight, you would think I'd serve him better. But the truth is, I've come to believe (probably like my mom did by the time she had me) that less is more with a one-year-old, and themed birthday bashes are best enjoyed and appreciated by enthusiastic five-year-olds. Still, here's penance for that forgotten journal entry (and a few pictures of Liam's birthday party):


Liam Scott Gordon was born on July 10, 2009 at 2:54pm. Liam is short for William (Scott and I each have a grandfather named William) and his middle name is after his dad, obviously. His pregnancy, labor and delivery all went smoothly without complications (aside from my want for an epidural and my embarassing display of screaming from pain). Liam was induced like all my babies were, but his delivery day was a little different from the others, since his dad was a brand new resident at a different hospital and couldn't be there with me the whole time. Grandma Wellman and Aunt Kimber had to fill in and keep me company while the labor progressed, and dad walked in just in time to see Liam come out. He was perfect in every way - tiny and beautiful without a scar or a scratch. His eye and hair color remained elusive for many months, but now we can finally tell that he is a brown haired, brown eyed boy. The most noticeable thing about Liam is his giant mouth that is constantly gaping open, which makes for lots of drool, but also means giant smiles - and oh, how we love them! Liam has seriously never been a care or a burden, only a joy. He slept through the night right off the bat, and he eats like a champion. He is now thick and cuddly as can be. It gives me the happiest feeling when he nestles into my neck. Happy birthday little one! We LOVE having you in our family.

My Garden - It's No Secret

Almost two years ago, as summer was coming to a close and in the midst of the economic recession, our stake presidency announced that they would like every family to have a garden and issued a challenge to all of us to get one. I remember that my husband was rotating out of state at the time, and I thought to myself that turning soil and hoeing rows was not the kind of manual labor I wanted to do. I also recall that we didn’t own even a shovel, and didn’t have expendable dollars in our tight budget. I didn’t know the first thing about gardening, but I thought that if I got some fertilizer and put some seeds in the ground, at least I will have been obedient, and surely some much needed blessings would come of that. My three kids and I went shopping for the supplies, worked late into the night, and our fall garden was in the ground by Labor Day. We planted an ambitious slew of vegetables – lettuce, broccoli, onions, tomatoes, peppers and cilantro, I think. A few weeks later, little buds were peeking through the soil and we were ecstatic. I thought to myself, wow what a blessing. Look at this great thing we achieved together! Now we are a little more self reliant than before (thanks to our obedience), and sacrifices really do bring blessings and miracles!



But the triple digit temperatures lasted well into October and within a few weeks, despite our incessant watering, all our pretty little buds had singed and died. I really felt something of a loss. Not only that my costly little investment of time and money had failed, but also that I had no testimony building experience to walk away with. I moved on to other obligations and left the garden alone.


Later on in the winter months, with no help from me, something green started growing in our garden. As it got bigger, I recognized that it was lettuce and I quickly reverted to daily watering and caretaking. Before long we had several rows of big leafy green heads of beautiful lettuce. The kids were as thrilled as I was. I showed my garden off to every visitor that came to the house. I had my happy ending after all! Apparently I had just needed some patience with my faith.


At the end of spring I thoroughly enjoyed a fruitful harvest. I loved the whole process of plucking, washing and storing beautiful bags of green lettuce in the fridge. We would have salad for dinner that very night! My husband was the first one to take a bite, and as soon as he did, his face puckered in a sour expression. Being an amateur gardener, I had not thought to taste the lettuce before I served it. The entire stock pile had a rancid taste and was not edible.

So that’s it! No botanical miracles here! But I did gain two things – a good laugh, and a determination to conquer gardening that borders on addiction. The following fall we tried again, this time in a shadier spot. We planted six varieties of vegetables, and the amount of produce I harvested this spring pretty much equaled a bag of baby carrots and one onion (all of which could have been purchased at Walmart for less than three dollars). But all were edible, and we savored them a little more for having grown them ourselves! If faith really does require patience and trust, then maybe the happy ending to my gardening story still lies ahead.