Summer Revisited: Nauvoo

Every summer for as long as I can remember of our married life, and most of the summers when I was a kid, we have taken a road trip.   Those trips have morphed and transformed dramatically since I was little.  It used to be my brothers and I, riding in the top of a camper shell (yes, no car seats or seatbelts, but somehow we survived), singing the "50 Nifty United States", having burping contests and wrestling on the top bed over the cab until my dad stopped the truck to come and yell at us.  Ooops.  This was the road trip pattern that we followed for many years, and across the entire United Sates.  We visited Mount Rushmore, the Hershey Chocolate Factory in Pennsylvania, more battlefields than I can name, the hood of Detroit, the New Mexico desert looking for a hogan, the mall and surrounding museums in Washington, D.C., and many church history sites. 

One that I remember well from my childhood was Nauvoo, Illinois.  We visited Nauvoo on my 10th birthday.  I remember going to watch the blacksmith make horseshoes just like they did back in the early 1800's.  When he finished making the miniature horseshoe, he gave it to me because it was my birthday!  What a fun memory.

Our road trips look slightly different, but some things are very much the same.  It usually goes something like this.  Mom says no movies for a while.  The quiet serenity of family and the hum of the road lasts about 10 minutes.  Somebody gets in someone elses space, or touches somebody, or has their book that they brought, or their toy.  Somebody is bored.  Mom suggests some games, or just to look out of the window.  Another five minutes go by.   Mom yells to stop fighting and just leave each other alone.  Silence lasts 3 minutes.  Mom gives up on the ideal family road trip of conversing with one another and seeing the beauty of where we are going, and puts in a movie.  (I say Mom, because John is either usually driving, or he is unfortunately not with us, like the last two summers). 

This summer, with Grandma Hema in tow, we set out on another summer roadtrip.  Grandma Hema knew what she was in for.  She road tripped with us last summer, for nearly three weeks, across half of the United States.  And, somehow she willingly came along again this summer.  She must have a very short memory.  Our first stop:  Nauvoo, Illinois.  

This year, we mainly went so that we could see the Nauvoo Pageant, which had already finished production last year when we visited.  The Pageant definately didn't dissappoint.  It was entertaining, uplifting and very inspiring.  I never get tired of hearing accounts of the early members of the Church, and the great sacrifices that they willingly made to do the work of the Lord. 

Before the pageant, they have an entire field set up with pioneer games for families to participate in.   We had a blast trying to not kill ourselves on stilts. 




Brady was excited to try everything.  He didn't want to give up on those stilts
(especially because he saw a bunch of little girls doing it).



Isaac learned that slippers weren't exactly the
best shoes for stilt walking.





Isaac and Nathan took this very seriously.  (The man was timing them
and they didn't want to get beat out by someone else).



Avery and Brady sawing their "log".



Nathan, Brady and Isaac






Isaac, Avery and Nathan



Brady LOVED this stick game.  He could have stayed there
all night perfecting his rolling techniques.



Little Will getting in on the games



Avery won this game, so of course it was her favorite.



Isaac pulling the kids in a handcart





Yummy, Avery, Brady and Nathan, looking rather melty in the handcart.





Brady, Nathan, Avery and Isaac in their potato sack race.



Brady thoroughly enjoying his potato sack race.

Nauvoo was definately one of the high points of our summer road trip even though it was blazing hot.  We had all melted during the first five minutes.  After that, we didn't care anymore how we looked.  We just had fun.

Monday



Yummy decided to climb upstairs and give himself a bath, fully clothed.
Of course, he did this 5 minutes before we were supposed to be leaving
for school.

I am usually exhausted by the time Monday morning rolls around.  Weekends are not quiet around our house, and this weekend was no exception.  It rained hard (but no basement flood), so Avery's soccer and Isaac's football games were cancelled.  Instead, we spent Saturday morning watching "Cheaper by the Dozen" and "Cheaper by the Dozen, 2".  The kids think they are hilarious, and I think they are both pretty entertaining.  Then it was off to work doing Saturday chores with Dad.  John gracefully let me take a nap, since I am still feeling a bit under the weather. 

Then Saturday night I attended the Relief Society General Broadcast.  It really was a treat.  I love listening to inspired women talk about our role, and our responsibilities as women.   Great stuff.  Then we got to listen to Elder Uchtdorf, one of the apostles.  He is truly a man of God.  His talk was both inspirational and comforting, as he talked about 5 things we should never forget.   The Spirit was strong and it was wonderful.

Yesterday, the kids spent all morning coloring and cutting out and taping, making puppets for their puppet show.   They made a huge mess, but had fun.



This started out all in fun, and I am choosing to believe that it ended that way.



With these two, you never know.

Beautiful kids, beautiful day

Last night after I prayed with the kids and tucked them in bed, I came downstairs to finish cleaning up and realized that Avery had already cleared the table, Tupperwared the leftovers, and started on the dishes for me.  I knew that she had disappeared for a minute while I was bathing and praying with the boys, but she came up right when I called her, so I figured she must have just been fiddling around or reading or something.  When I went upstairs to thank her, she just said that she knew I didn't feel good, so she wanted to help out.  What a sweet sweetie girl.  She is beautiful inside and out.

I finally broke down and went to the doctor today since I figured I could only live off of Ibuprofen and Primatine for so long.  Diagnosis:  Bronchitis and a sinus infection.  I have one antibiotic in my system, and am already feeling better.  This is probably more mentally than physically, but anything counts at this point.   

The kids are so sweet when they know I don't feel good.  Take Nathan, for example.  On Sunday when they got home from church, he came and sat near me on the couch for almost 30 minutes.  He played with my hair, and talked to me about church and tucked my blanket in around me.  Then he decided that I needed a more comfortable spot.  So he proceeded to lay back the recliner and spread out the blanket perfectly, making sure there were no wrinkles.  Then he said "Come on mama, I have a comfy spot for you."  And it was, even better than where I had been.  He was so proud. 




The brothers were at it again.  While I was helping the other
kids with homework, they pulled out EVERY single DVD that we
own, looking for some secret "winning code" inside.



They did do a good job cleaning up after I found the mess though.

 
Today was such a lovely day.  After I picked up Nathan from Kindergarten we walked to the playground to play until it was time to get the big kids.  I love watching Yummy play right along with the other kids.  He thinks he is just as big as they are, and Nathan is so good at watching out for him.  He lifts him up so that he can sing/yell into the little megaphone on the playground, and waits for him at the bottom of the slide. 

The big kids put the basketball hoop down so they didn't have to
keep lifting Will up to drop the ball in. 



I think he is so delicious!!!

 When we came home I helped kids with homework and fixed dinner.  We spent the rest of the afternoon playing basketball or freeze tag or swinging on the swings with the neighbors until dinner time.  John rode home and then took Avery straight to soccer, while I put the others to bed.  And now everyone is clean and sleeping.  Hooray!  I will go smell them and kiss them one more time before I go to bed!

Visit to Wrigley Field

I am realizing that our time here in Chicagoland is probably very limited.  Despite the complete craziness of last year and this summer, the time has flown, and John will graduate only nine months from now.  Granted, A LOT has to happen before we are finished, most importantly, finding a job for John, which I am certain will happen in its own due time.    In the meantime, John and I made a list of things that we need to do before we leave this great city, one of which was to attend a Chicago Cubs game at Wrigley Field.

When my parents were here in June, Grandpa Anthony took John and Isaac to a game.  They had a blast.  Isaac even got a baseball helmet full of nachos.  Heaven in a helmet for a 10 year old, I'd say.  It even rivaled the all-you-can-eat seats at the Texas Rangers' games in Dallas.   But the rest of the kids needed to be inside Wrigley Field, too.  So, Monday night for Family Home Evening, we boarded the "L" (that's Chicago speak for Elevated Train) near our home, and rode to Wrigley.  



On the "L"


Wrigley Field is located right next to the "L", and from the train you can see the field and the bleachers that have been built on top of the row houses across the street to accommodate more fans.  The kids have seen that from the train windows every time we go into the city, so they were so excited to finally be getting off at that stop.  That particular evening the Cubs were playing the Milwaukee Brewers, and won by a score of 5-2.  The weather was beautiful, the nachos delicious (even though they weren't out of a helmet), and the game fun. . . a bit long for unseasoned viewers, but still very fun.

We stood up during the 7th inning stretch and sang our hearts out to "Take Me Out to the Ballgame".  Even Brady and Nathan, who didn't know the words tried to follow along.  (What kind of mom am I?  Really, two little boys who didn't know the baseball song?  We fixed that on the train ride home.  We sang the whole way.  For me, definitely one of the highlights of the evening. . . Brady on my lap with a big smile, Avery sitting next to me leaning on my shoulder, Isaac across the isle singing with Dad who was holding a sleeping Yummy, and cute Nathan asleep in the stroller.  I'll have to remember to teach him later). 

Anniversary Number Twelve!

Today is our anniversary, which kind of stinks because I woke up feeling sick, with a headache and a fever.  I even sent John to church by himself with all of the kiddos, that is just how rotten I feel.  I hate missing church.  This means I can't even kiss my Johnny because I don't want him to get sick.  Not this week.  This week starts his recruiting again, this time for a full time job, and he needs to be in tip top shape.   Unlike last winter, when he was recruiting for a summer internship, and we were both stressed out basket cases, this time we both feel incredibly peaceful, and full of faith that Heavenly Father will get us where he needs us to be.   I think we both learned a lot this summer.

John taking Yummers for a little walk.  Yummy thought it was the greatest thing ever!

We desperately wanted to go out and have some much needed alone time, to just talk as adults, and hold hands, but we couldn't find a babysitter.  And then there was the BYU bust game last night.  So unromantic. 

Honestly, I am content just to have him home again.  To play with the kids, to help with the dishes, to hold me and tuck me in bed, to go on long bike rides with, and to reassure me that things will all work out.  He is such a great man.  His faith astounds me.  He is kind, and patient and so, so funny with our kids.  He works tirelessly for our family, studying and learning and becoming who Heavenly Father wants him to be.  And he works so hard and selflessly gives so much to others.  I am thrilled that he is mine.  So here is to twelve wonderful, crazy, ever-changing, exciting years.  And many, many more to come. 

Brothers

Nathan was born when Brady was only 18 months old.   They look similar.  They share a room, and a bunk bed, and a Lego shelf.   Nathan wears all of Brady's old clothes (at least the ones Brady hasn't demolished, which turns out to be not many as he is pretty rough and sloppy).   They generally play with the same friends, and are only a year apart in school.  But they are as different as green Jello with carrots and creme brule.

Brady holding Nathan
when Nathan was about 2 weeks old.

Brady is very thoughtful and is a calculated risk taker.  I have never had to worry about him in the pool, even before he could really swim, because I know that he will not go out any farther than he can swim back.  When he was five, he refused to ride a two wheel bike with training wheels, because he insisted that he was not ready to ride a two wheel bike, no matter if his friends were riding one or not.  He did this for about six months.  Then one day when I went to pick him up from his friend Shelby's house, he was riding a two wheel bike all around the cul-de-sac.   He had decided that he had observed enough, and had figured it all out, and was ready.  He used to put himself in time out when he felt like he was getting out of control.  And, if he gets in trouble, he definitely thought it out and meant to do it.

Nathan, on the other hand, is a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants daredevil.  He still tries to keep up with the big kids in the pool, and I have to watch him.  Closely.  One time in Dallas, he convinced Isaac to piggyback him across the deep end of the pool, under the diving board.  Isaac, always the good big brother, tried.  It ended up with the lifeguard jumping in and pulling them both up as they sunk like blockheads to the bottom.  He also taught himself to ride a bike, but it was because it was killing him that the big kids could do it, and he couldn't.  So, when he was four, he screamed and yelled until I took off his training wheels, and then he crashed and bobbled until he figured out how to ride.  Nathan never willingly goes to time out, and if he gets in trouble, it is more often than not because his playing gets out of control. 



Brady and Nathan pulling weeds in the back yard.



Having said all of this, they are absolutely hilarious together.  This week while I was driving them to school, Nathan kept pointing at the school bus, and saying:  "Look Will, bus!".  To which Will would reply:  "Butt, butt, butt."  Then they would crack up laughing, and say it again.

On Wednesday, Brady was complaining about a his stomach not feeling well.  I was cooking dinner, and kept suggesting to him that he maybe try going to the bathroom.  Nathan joined in and asked him:  "Brady, where does it hurt?"  And when Brady pointed to his stomach, Nathan punched him as hard as he could, right where he had pointed.  "There,"  he said, and swaggered away.

They sword fight with their lightsabers so fiercely, all in good fun, until somebody gets hurt, then it is for real.  They battle it out wrestling, and tackle each other hard when they play football, and kick one another, instead of the ball, when they play soccer.

But. . . today while John was watching football upstairs, and Yummy was sleeping and I was driving around running errands with Avery and Isaac, our bathroom was flooding.  The old toilet tank had cracked somehow, and water was gushing out onto the floor and dripping down into the basement, where they were playing.  John heard Nathan run over to Brady and say, "Look Brady, water!  Oh my gosh, what should we do?"  Brady:  "Lets go get something to catch it!"  They ran upstairs, got a pitcher, and took it back down to catch the waterfall coming from the ceiling, never thinking of calling for backup from Dad.  They could fix this on their own, just the two brothers.  John heard this, and ran downstairs, found the mess, turned off the water, and cleaned up. 

Brady and Nathan are brothers in the truest sense of the word.  They play, compete, fight, work and love.  Someday, I am positive that they will be the best of friends. 

Isaac

This is a poem I found in Isaac's school folder yesterday. 

I am building.
I am sports.
I am reading.

I am a violin in an orchestra.
I am football and basketball.
I am funny, happy, and nice.

I am pizza.
I am Texas.
I am music.

I am intelligent.
I am chocolate on a birthday cake.
I am triathlons.
I am running, swimming, and biking.

I am Isaac Hema.

Isaac pulling the kids in a handcart in Nauvoo this summer.

Perfectly said, Isaac.

Summer revisited: Noah, why didn't you warn us?

We have only been here in the Chicago area for a year now, but have already managed to experience both the snowstorm of the century, and a record setting rainstorm.  (Grandma Hema has been here visiting both times.  Maybe its a sign?)

The rainstorm the third week of July this summer, seemed actually quite nice at the time.  I woke up around 11:00 because I had heard a lot of thunder and lightning, and decided to wander downstairs to our big picture window in the living room to watch for a while.  I LOVE the rain, probably because I learned to love the big rainstorms in Texas while we were there.  I love the way it makes me feel warm and cozy in my house.  I love the way it smells.  I love the way it makes everything look fresh.  I love the sound of cars driving by, and hearing the water splash up.  Anyway, Grandma Hema came out and sat on the couch with me and we watched the big sheets of water pour out of the dark night sky, and enjoyed the lightning show.  After nearly an hour, we decided that if the kids hadn't woken up from the extremely loud thunder yet, they weren't going to, so we both went back to bed. 

The next morning, the kids were up early, as usual.  I wandered downstairs to the basement around 6:20 to get some laundry going before getting breakfast for the kids.  The light for the basement is at the top of the stairs, and usually I don't turn it on when I am doing laundry, I just wander into the dark laundry room and turn on the little light in there with the pull-chain.   Only this time as I got close to the bottom of the stairs, I could see that something was different down there, and I could smell it, too.  I ran back up the stairs, turned on the light, then went back down to survey the damage.

Besides the fact that the kids had left toys out everywhere the night before, it doesn't look too bad, until you realize that everything is floating.  Even the rug.  And, judging by the water marks we found on the walls and the furniture, the water had actually receded a bit (to 12 inches from 16) by the time I found it.  Nice.

Did I mention the smell?  Well, let me just say that it wasn't pleasant.  This was not just your ordinary, run-of-the-mill flood, where water seeps in through a crack, or a window well.  Oh no.  Because the rain had come so hard and so fast, the amount of water had overwhelmed the storm drains/sewer pipes, and because our home is so old, of course it is not up to current building codes, and it has no back flow prevention device, so the sewage just came right back up the floor drain and into our basement.  That's right folks, POOP water in our basement.  And John was gone.  And pretty much all of the kids toys and books live down there because there is no room in their bedrooms.  And all of our food storage. 

I called John, who happened to be on his way to the temple in Oklahoma City.   I managed to remain pretty calm, probably partially due to the fact that I felt a little comforted that he was going to the temple, and could put in some prayers for me.   After I hung up, I did what every self-respecting, independent woman, left to her own devices during the middle of a semi huge crisis does.  I cried.  Then I found John's rubber work boots, and went to work, wading around in the POOP water, rescuing things that had not touched the water, and handing them to my waiting kids to carry up the stairs and into the living room. 

Later that day, my home teacher showed up, and while Grandma Hema took the little kids to get some lunch and play on the playground out of the way, Isaac, Brother Welch and I carried up the rest of the things that could be salvaged.  We spent the rest of the afternoon bleaching the few things we could save. 

The next morning, a cleaning crew came, threw out everything else, and stripped the walls and insulation.  Because it was sewage, anything that was touching the water was just thrown out.  Even food that was in boxes, like cereal and pasta, that was not touching the water, had to be tossed. 

This is what our pile of trash looked like a few days later.  It actually was bigger than this, but people kept coming and picking through it.  You would think that they would be able to smell it, and have the sense to just leave it.  The kids and I tried several times to run out and explain to people that it had been in POOP water, (the kids actually thought it was good fun to watch out the windows until somebody pulled over, open the front door and start yelling "It was in POOP water!!!!  POOP Water!!!) but they would just wait until we left, and take it anyway. 

Things I am grateful for:

1.  We lost a lot, but no one was hurt.  Just a few weeks earlier, I had seen the devastation from a massive F5 tornado that had ripped through Joplin, Missouri and had killed so many.  So I was so grateful that even though we lost a lot, we would all be fine.

2.  Great home teachers and visiting teachers who came and helped, and didn't just call and ask what they could do to help.  I don't like asking for help, so when it just showed up, I  was very grateful.

3.  Grandma Hema, who remained calm, cool, and collected, even when I wasn't.  And the fact that we could laugh together about the clueless fix-it man, who our landlord hired, who walked in the POOP water with bare feet, was an added bonus.  And the fact that she thought I was calm, cool and collected when I didn't yell at him when he said the water came through the windows, was an added bonus.

4.  The promptings of the Spirit, which led John to add flood insurance to our renters insurance policy last year, and then again led him to increase those flood coverage limits later on that year.  

5.  A husband who listened.  Both to my crying, whining and complaining, and to the Spirit.  Thank you.

Sundays

Isaac announced today that he hates Sundays.  This is new.  I don't think I have ever gotten any complaints about Sundays.  He wanted to go out and ride bikes, watch football on TV, play on his laptop from school.  In short, pretty much everything that we try to discourage on Sunday.  I am discovering that he is no longer a little boy and that he has opinions of his own about what he does and doesn't want to do.   I try really hard to make Sunday a special day, not just a day of "can't" or "don't".  We make treats and play games and do fun Sunday crafts.  I let them have free reign of the LDS website and explore as much as they want, as long as they stay on that site.  Anyway, I thought we were doing okay, until this morning. 

After a very lengthy discussion with him, I discovered that it really had nothing to do with Sunday at all, and everything to do with being a growing boy, cooped up in a little house, just trying to have some quiet time to do things on his own, and always having two, or three, or four younger siblings joining in.  He is usually such an incredibly patient big brother, and so kind, but even he has his limits.  He had been trying to build Legos, and kept getting pieces stolen or broken off, and was just frustrated.   The truth of it is, while I do feel very fortunate to not be living in a cramped apartment at this point in our lives, we are still in tight quarters right now.  Isaac, Brady and Nathan share a small bedroom, lined wall to wall with bunk beds, a dresser, and shelves for their Legos.  Avery and William are a little more spread out in their room, but not much.  Neither bedrooms have space for toys, so what is left of those are downstairs in the basement, on the cold, hard, tile floor, which used to have a rug, then we had the flood. . . but I digress.  It's not ideal, but it is where we are supposed to be for now.  

This afternoon, after a wonderful Stake Conference, inspired speakers, and beautiful music, he was singing a different tune.    Like most Sunday afternoons, John played Life with the kids, while I cooked dinner. 

Things most likely heard during a game of Life:

Avery:  Yea, I have a ton of kids!

Dad:  Slow down, you're playing ahead!

Isaac:  Hey, you skipped my turn.

Nathan:  I'm gonna sue you! (Sounds a little like I'm gonna shoe you!)

Brady:  Yes!  I'm a doctor (or a lawyer) again!  I'm gonna win!

Dad:  Stop playing ahead, I can't keep track of who I paid!

Avery:  Yea, I had twin girls!

Isaac:  Wait, wait, wait, I think you skipped my turn.

John has been home for a week now, and already I can feel some of the stress of summer being worn away.  His classes start tomorrow, and recruiting and interviewing for full time positions has already begun.   I am beginning to see an end to this school thing.  Hooray!

Summer Revisited: The Farm

For the last two summers, we have had the opportunity to visit some of our family on their farm in eastern Kansas.  The kids and I have absolutely loved it!    Uncle Steve and Aunt Sherry are two of the kindest, most generous people I have ever met.  Truly the salt of the Earth. 




Nathan and Brady ride with Uncle Steve in the front loader,
loading a mixture of corn and silage into the feed truck. 

Nathan doesn't warm up to everyone.  I take that back.  Nathan doesn't
warm up to most people.  But Uncle Steve was different.  Nathan loved him
from the first tractor ride they went on together, and was his constant shadow
while we were on the farm. 



On the farm the day starts every morning around 5:30 or 6:00, and Nathan was always the first one awake.  He was so nervous that he would miss his chance to go out with Uncle Steve to load the silage and corn into the feed truck, that some mornings he was awake even before Uncle Steve was.   After loading the feed truck, they would drive to the various fields and feed the cattle.  Then it was back to the house for a quick breakfast before going out to do more work. 

This year, Kansas was so hot that we nearly melted while we were there, so we spent a good amount of our time in Aunt Dawn's swimming pool. 




Grandma Hema, Aunt Sherry and Aunt Dawn


John was doing his summer internship in Wichita, Kansas, which is only about 3 hours from their farm, so he drove up and spent two days with us. 



Hemas trying to stay cool in Aunt Dawn's pool
with Aunt Sherry's daughter Jana and her husband



Yummy enjoying the water






Cute Avery had so much fun with her cousins

 Avery, Grandma Hema and I spent most of our time with Aunt Sherry, trying to help her keep up with feeding and cleaning up after everyone.   Every day she cooks enough to feed all of the farm workers, basically a small army and YUM, she is a great cook!

Grandma Hema with Aunt Sherry

Will was fascinated with the slobbery calves we were bottle feeding.
He kept barking at them.



My attempt at taking a picture while trying not to get smeared with slobber
by the calf.




Uncle Steve and Aunt Sherry let my "city" kids bottle feed calves, bail hay, load feed for the cattle in their front loader, drive the golf cart all over the farm, and ride along with the men as they cut silage in the big combine tractor.  Nathan is convinced he is going to be a farmer "like Uncle Steve" when he grows up.  My kids were in heaven.