White on White

Years ago I took a psychology class that was pretty fascinating. Sometimes strange, sometimes really analytical, always interesting. Anyway, one of our assignments was to use crayons and a sheet of printer paper to draw any picture that came to mind. After we had a chance to color to our hearts' content we folded them crosswise each direction, creating four quadrants, and analyzed the "underlying message" based on the colors we used, the items we drew, and the quadrants we chose to place them in. I don't remember all the details, but I do remember that a lot of the students were amazed at how accurate it was. For instance, one girl had a red crab placed in the bottom left quadrant. The teacher had started by explaining that red signified anger, the particular quadrant was "here and now", and said she wasn't sure what the crab would mean. Another student across the room offered that the crab was the astrological sign for cancer, upon which the surprised owner of the picture offered that her mom currently had cancer, and indeed she was very, very angry.

There were a few other interesting pictures, but I couldn't figure my own out. Not wanting to have mine spotlighted, I waited while the teacher added that you still need to take all these things with a grain of salt. If you try to analyze a picture, it may be that the person used particular colors because the ones they really wanted were not available or . . . whatever.

Looking at my own picture, I had to admit that I could easily identify the smoke coming from the chimney (warmth and vibrancy) and the home (pretty straightforward), but I had a white country field fence and white on white for the lawn, instead of green. After the class, I asked the teacher quietly to help me figure it out. She took one look and the picture, one look at me, and answered that white on white denoted repression. Repression? Me? I have always wondered about it. Honestly, I wouldn't call myself repressed.

It finally occurred to me that I did repress a lot of things about my home life. It isn't what you'd expect, though. I really like the home I grew up in. I had good parents, my dad had a stable job and was pretty even-tempered as far as fathers of teenagers go. My mom worked, but she was home as soon as she could be and she was always there when it was important. Things were good. What was there to repress?

Guess what I finally realized--I was repressing good things! The kids around me at school had much more difficult lives, but I liked being around them, so I kept it to myself how nice it was at home. I didn't have to deal with molestation, drugs, alcoholic parents, divorce, or even absent parents. I liked my friends because they were bright, creative, non-judgmental and interesting. Although they where not part of the "main stream", they were a great set of friends because peer pressure really didn't exist. They respected me, I respected them, and we just got along. If I had it to do over again, I would choose the white crayon, hold back on telling about some of the great things in my life, and hang out with them again. However, if I got my wish, it would be to find that their lives had all turned out great, too, and there was nothing to hold back--only to share.

Men

These are old photos, but I just wanted to post them. I am so grateful for M'honey. I don't like getting too sappy, but we are a good team. He tries hard to connect with each of our kiddos and helps me when I'm worn out. Yesterday I was reading an article on "Being an Influential Father" (thinking it would apply to mom's too) and it listed things a great dad should strive to do: "These include living a gospel-centered life, showing appropriate affection, disciplining with love, listening effectively, spending one-on-one time together, and seeking creative ways to participate in a child’s life." Hmmm . . . Our kids are lucky to have a dad who fits that description already! We have some good friends who stayed with us overnight one time (when we only had four bundles of energy). They told us that they had decided not to have children because they were too selfish. (Their words.) The wife explained that she didn't want to change her life in order to raise a child. Another couple we know chose not to have children because they felt that the world was too harsh, unwholesome, and generally scary for raising children. I can relate to both of these couples. I am a selfish being, too. Naturally wishing there weren't sooo many gooey fingers touching me and whiny mouths to feed. I'm always looking for a route back to the professional life. The reality knocks the "selfish" right out of me, actually. There's no time to think about it and pull back, just do it--just love them. It makes me a better person. Also, the world is pretty harsh and generally scary sometimes, but a loving home is the perfect antidote; a wholesome child is the perfect cure.

It all comes down to this . . .

We had a beautiful Christmas. It was just white enough, just cold enough, and had just enough family, friends and food to make it just right. David and I looked for meaningful ways to balance the commercialism with the meaning behind the holiday, and we tried hard to not spoil the children. We baked cookies, made gingerbread houses, went to parties, participated in service projects, and even put some lights up outside this year. We also held our annual "shepherd's dinner" in which we dressed in robes and ate flatbread and fish (among other things) with our fingers out of tin pans while sitting on the floor around a fire. We had a good time.

In all seriousness, I am certain that the kids will not remember any significant amount of it . . . with one exception: THE MONEY GRAB. Grandpa Hale has created a tradition that stands alone. It is talked about all year long among the cousins, and they share with each other their best tips and strategies as well as their excitement about trying again next year. The money grab is this: Grandpa first offers each grandchild the opportunity to choose $1 per year of their age OR the chance to get two fistfuls of coins out of a vase. (Nobody chooses the dollars for your age thing.) Then, each grandchild in turn gets a chance to fill their fist with money--the trick is that if your fist is too full, the fist won't be able to exit the vase! Also, if the coins are piled too high then they will spill onto the floor and do not count toward the total winnings.

Personally, I hated the money grab from its very beginning over 5 years ago. All due respect to grandpa and the kiddos, but it is awfully worldly for a holiday so sacred. Over time, however, I've warmed up to it. When I stop analyzing it I can see that it is just plain fun. It is a great memory that our kids will have forever of their Grandpa. Besides, who can argue that it is impersonal? We have a great time playing, joking, and encouraging the little greedy grabbers as they line up for their turns at the shiny, money-filled vessel. It is definitely a step above a greenback stamped with Lincoln's image and stuffed into a card!

I've gotten over my worry that the tradition will ruin their lives and turn my children into money-hungry fiends. You know the old adage from Freud: sometimes, a cigar is just a cigar. That's it. Now sometimes I wish I was one of Grandpa's kids and could have my chance at the game.

Thoughts On the Temple

Heaven just wouldn't be heaven without my family there!  

Our family went through the Oquirrh Mountain Temple open house a couple of weeks ago.  This is not a frequent opportunity, in fact it is only the second time our kids have had the opportunity to go inside in their lifetimes--and amazingly both times have been this year.  It is beautiful inside!  As we walked through the silent tour, we saw simple and elegant furnishings, heartwarming art and murals, beautiful plays of light on prismatic chandeliers and mirrors that were adjusted so that when we looked in them, we saw our reflections go on forever.  Above all, we were able to feel the good spirit that prevails there.  It is a safe feeling, one of peace and refuge.  As a thunderstorm literally blustered around us . . . and Moroni was hit by lightning while we were there . . . the inside was so quiet and calm that we had no idea it was anything else outside.  

I have to admit that I have taken the temple for granted until recently.  At the last conference church leaders invited us to serve in the temple more frequently and more sincerely.  It was the week after we moved, and I was unpacking the kitchen as I listened to a touching message from Elder Richard Scott who related how attending the temple has helped him in recent years.  Elder David Bednar promised that regular, meaningful attendance would give us literal protection and help us become better people.  I decided that I was going to attend more often.  I wanted to test it out, I suppose.  Easier said than done with a large, young family.  Since then, I have been going 2-3 times a month (instead of once every month or two), and I have noticed a change.  I have always worked on controlling my hot temper . . . especially with my kids and husband . . . and always considered it to be an aspect of self-control.  But since serving in the temple more, my temper has changed.  Even David has noticed a difference.  The interesting thing is that I don't feel like I have better self-control, I simply don't feel a need to lose my temper in the first place!  It is easier for me to see which things are worth being upset about . . . and how best to express that.  I also see how special each child is when I look at them and listen to their explanations and stories.  I am developing a better perspective, and gaining a conviction that we are not our best selves without divine help.

 

:)

The Results Are IN

The State Finals of the Hershey's Track & Field is over.  We had a great time on our outing--5 hours (round trip) of reading, music, and joking around in order to get to the main event in Richfield, Utah.  Rachel placed 7th for Utah.  Although she is a bit disappointed, we are very proud of her.  Rachel ran 800 meters (1/2 mile) in 3:44.81 . . . shaving 4 seconds off her district finals time . . . even though she is recovering from the "piggy flu!"  In fact, yesterday we didn't think we were going, since Rachel had a fever until the late morning when it finally broke.  At dinner she announced  she wasn't going to miss it, and that was that.  I don't blame her . . . I wouldn't want to miss an opportunity like this one either.  

While we were there, we saw some great friends from our old neighborhood--a family who lived just a couple doors down.  It turned out that Rachel's friend Jacob was competing in the boys 800 m of the same age group.  He lifted her spirits just before the competition got underway.  They warmed up together and we cheered them both on as they raced by doing the wave and generally being loud and boisterous.  (A few pics of Jacob below--in the green shirt; also a photo of Sarah and Rebecca--they were so excited to see each other again!)

On the way home I started convincing myself that training isn't all that hard.  My daydreams included muscles that burst with energy and speed that almost makes me fly.  Over my thoughts came the announcement from Jonathan, "I want to do track next year."  Hmmm . . . .  guess we better keep running!  

Unexpected Surprises!

Rachel Qualifies For State!

We are proud of Rachel for working so hard at track over the last couple of years.  Even though we didn't let her join a running club last year, she kept it on her mind and stayed active.  At our new school, PE generally consists of running laps around the school, and her teacher is an avid runner.  It easily rubbed off, and she has been improving her "personal best" a little at a time.  At the local Hershey's meet, she qualified to move on to district in the 400m, 800m, and long jump!  At the district meet last week, she did well in long jump, but missed qualifying by a couple of inches.  Immediately after her long jump, she ran 400m . . . and then less than 5 minutes later she ran 800m.  OUCH!  Surprisingly, she made the top 2 in the 800m, but not the 400m.  I guess that says something about her stamina.  She is invited to go to the state finals in Richfield tomorrow, and if she does well enough the next step is HERSHEY, PENNSYLVANIA, BABY!