Because You Loved Me

Someone asked me to picture the person I think of when I hear the word "integrity". I pictured my Dad. No hesitation. And he would probably try to push that adjective away, because he is also the first person I would picture if I heard the word "humble". My Dad was my first best friend. I am told it was that way from the start. He was the first one I wanted to share exciting events with ("I am the fastest girl in the whole 5th grade!"), the one I upheld the family name for with my feats of dexterity and skill (getting up on those darn water skis), the one I was devastated by if I let him down in any way, and usually all that took was a look, and "Ah, Kris." My Dad is described as quiet, kind, and shy. I once wrote about him, "In the quiet that is my Father, I hear mountains being moved." So, he isn't a loud personality, but he taught me to appreciate silence, looking up at the stars or sitting on the beach, walking in the woods. He taught me patience with others and how to listen. He taught me how to study directions and sit long at a project, to do it right, to sigh, smile, and shake my head if I made a mistake, to swear in jibberish, "Oh, gotcha-ma-hooey" or just, "Dog-gonnit". My Dad has great faith and always seemed to reassure that it will be alright... in a way that you have no trouble believing it... my first lessons in positive thinking. I always knew he would do the right thing. I trusted him. My Dad was the one that had us up and running races to the fence and back, he taught us each how to throw a frisbee, a baseball (like a boy), horseshoes, to fly a kite in the wind. He didn't push hard, but we wanted to please him. Hearing, "There, you got it!", was enough to make me smile and try even harder. My Dad isn't always quiet, of course. He has the loudest sneezes I have ever heard in my lifetime. Every once in awhile I throw out a whopper as a tribute. One of my favorite sounds, to this day, is a man whistling. My Dad would whistle and trill and whether it was a particular tune or just happy notes, I would be drawn to wherever he was and whatever he was doing, working in the garage, fixing the television, or putting up a fence. I would just be by him, roller skating or doing cartwheels, handing him what he needed. He has a particular whistle, as a lot of Dad's do, that brought us kids running from all corners. Just that sharp, short up-note, that meant, "Here. Now." Then there were the times, usually family trips, where we were getting a bit obnoxious (O.k., maybe a lot obnoxious), and Dad would just deftly pull the car off the road and reach one arm over his seat to look right back at us and threaten to "turn this car around!". He wasn't loud very often, but when he was, we listened. My Dad is the reason I love camping. He is the reason I try to be honest. He is the reason I have a stunt kite for the beach. He is the reason I felt respected as a girl.
No matter what, I always, always feel like my Dad knows I can do anything. And that has meant much more to me than he will ever know.
Happy Father's Day, Daddy.

I love you,
Your Krissi

The Hey-Days of May

I have never thought of May as a particularly busy month. I never thought moving to another state would impact that idea whatsoever. I just didn't pay it much attention. Would you? But here we are at the end of May, (and I have gathered similar testimony from other migrants to this area) so I now attest that the month will forever be a distinction, and geared up for with more fervent action in the future. School gets out for Summer vacation on May 25th, instead of the usual 2nd week of June so many of us Northwesterners have grown up with, and that single event seems to be the catalyst to the organized mayhem messing up my calendar on the kitchen wall. I have been given several reasons for such an early release: 1) to take as much advantage of the short summer season as possible, 2) students are needed to staff the tourist-driven businesses of Cody, 3) we've been cooped up long enough. After I first learned about it, I was with a group of women and the subject came up. I made the mistake of assuming their feelings would reflect my own when I asked, "What are you supposed to do with the kids home that early?" I received blank stares...then one of the women said, "Enjoy them! Go see things! Go visit places!" I raised my eyebrows and nodded, thinking, "Your children must behave." But, that was before the long winter, before -13 degrees, the wind blowing so hard at night you ducked under the covers in anticipation of the window glass giving way, trick-or-treating in 7 degree weather, and filing February garden catalogs away until 2 weeks ago. Before our schedules filled up with piano lessons, football practices and games, basketball practice and games, ballet lessons, cub scouts, boy scouts, choir practices and concerts, women and co-ed volleyball leagues, track meets, baseball practice and games, science projects, computer projects, parent-teacher conferences, homework, and more homework, calls from school begging to bring the forgotten item by next class period, packing sack lunches every morning, going through paper piles every afternoon, all juggled precariously on a write-on-wipe-off calendar, whose magnetic pen finally ran out of ink and was replaced last week. So, May brings the end of track season, the last ballet lesson and Spring recital, the last piano lesson, the final cub scout pack meeting with the last batch of homemade brownies, the last day of babysitting, the final choir concerts, the volleyball championship tournament (our women's team took 2nd!), tonight's 8th grade graduation ceremony, for which the final touches on the formal dress were made last week, the last study session for end-of-the-year tests, the 6th grade 3-day Nature Camp Brandon chaperoned with Braeden, the planning and assignments for the Jensen reunion in less than 2 weeks, and the itinerary laid out for our summer trip to the coast. I also must mention the window for getting the vegetable garden in is pretty small here, "After the last frost, but before June 6, or it will be too late." So, the vegetable garden is dug, composted, furrowed, planted, and staked, and I bit my lip as the temperature dropped to 35 degrees 2 nights ago. (We covered things up and the seedlings look great.) And now, as the class parties are being held and baseball survives its place on the calendar for a bit, I find myself anxious to have the family home and doing lots of nothing in particular, but making it fun. We are starting this weekend by celebrating Brandon and Jacob's birthday, May 27th, with Pirates of the Carribean III, and a day trip to Yellowstone, where we have a really good chance of seeing some bears. After that, who knows? I do know one thing: I will enjoy my kids, go see things, and go visit places. I just won't have to look at the calendar to do it!

EMERGENCE

It is finally here... Spring. I feel like Cody, WY has been in a cocoon. A snowcovered, quiet, protected cocoon, and now it is happening: The emergence. The signs were small at first. Kids could be seen outside, riding bikes, running to a friend's house, ok, building snowmen. Then we heard the birds! One morning, waking up. "Ah! Do you hear the birds?!" They sounded SO good. Like heralds assuring our hopes. Some daffodills speared their way through the cold to brighten up the white and brown surroundings. Then a few days before Easter we had a "small" blizzard with 2 feet of snow, followed by brilliant blue skies, snowball fights, and sunburned faces. The snow melted and greened everything up. Willows around town began to leaf out in that color called "spring green". The deer appeared again on the streets of our town, and the antelope could be spotted again off the highways. Yet, I heeded the warnings that this was not it, and I had noticed no tulips blooms or tree blossoms. Sure enough, we woke up to 4 more inches of snow 2 weeks ago. But again, the sun came out and warmed everything up and deepened the pale green. A rabbit hopped across our street. So, in just the last few days, with 70 degree weather, I have delighted in seeing flowering plum, cherry, crabapple, lilac buds, tulips, the greening of the hills and mountains. I have taken a class on how to garden in Cody (it was a short class, haha) and have made my designs and budget. In the warm sunshine I have stomped on my shovel, turned up warming earth, pulled up sod and planted a tree, 3 shrubs, 2 small plants, 7 bulbs, and wiped my forehead with the back of a muddy glove. I have a farmers tan, and a red nose. The kids threw on their swimsuits, grabbed their water guns and squealed. Brandon spread the lawn with fertilizer and we took a walk hand in hand around the neighborhood, picking up landscaping ideas along the way. Of course, the laundry was late getting done, and the fridge needs to be cleaned out, and I didn't check my email for 4 days, but how can I resist the desire to go to the window and feel the sun, open the door and step outside, breathe the fresh air deeply, return the greetings from neighbors out doing the same thing, search for what can be next on my gardening to-do list, and work my muscles to exhaustion, preparing my own plot to resemble a fraction of that first garden, Eden? Welcome, Spring. We're so glad you've come.

My, You're Practically A Lady

For months and months I have repeatedly answered the question, "How long 'til I'm five years old?" This year, Easter marked Maren's birthday, and as the decorations were set out and the Easter eggs dyed, Maren's anticipation grew. So, when she woke up Sunday morning, her excitement that Easter had come was quelled by the discovery that she was 5, but not any bigger than she had been the day before! I reminded her little pout that she had grown 2-3" since she had her 4th birthday, and that we had to buy her all new pants because her legs had gotten so long, and that we had just replaced her size 9 1/2 tap shoes with size 11's! She immediately cheered up with her hearty giggle so much like mine. And so the day was sunny and bright for our youngest child, who will leave me in the Fall to start all-day, every-day kindergarten. But we won't think about that, yet. What is it about turning 5? I remember the introduction scene in the Sound of Music. "Yes, you're Gretel. And you're 5 years old? My, you're practically a lady." That was so endearing, you just had to smile at the thought of this little dumpling of a girl being referred to as a lady, but you felt it was somehow true. Turning 5 means you are no longer a toddler or a pre-schooler. You are old enough to leave the house on a bus without your parents and go to school. You are old enough to get yourself dressed, tie your shoes, write your name and a few other things if you wish to. And you wish to! It means you can ride a bike, or walk to the triplet's house to visit, with Mommy only watching from the front porch. It is a beginning of an independence. So, my sweet, funny, bossy, caring, tough Maren Lily, with the pixie voice and deep laugh, Happy 5th Birthday, and welcome to the beginning of a new part of life! May it be joyful, adventurous, and worthy of everything your Father in Heaven knows you are.

Happy Easter!

How grateful we are for our family and that we can be together forever!

SOLD

We sold the house! We sold our house in Washington! Hooray! After 10 months!

Things I have learned:

1. Patience is a virtue, and I am impatient with the amount of patience I have.
2. If a home buyer can't get the financing because he isn't a U.S. citizen, he can't get the financing the second try, either.
3. Co-signers to a non-U.S citizen's loan can suddenly decide they want to buy a "vacation home" in Portland, OR, and not be co-signers anymore.
4. Always ask if the homebuyer is a U.S. citizen with traceable income.
5. Always ask for daily rent money up front, not at closing. It may not come to closing.
   
6. Hire a realtor who knows Real Estate legalities, not simply because he/she is a people-person.
7. Forgive.
8. Referring to your 2nd mortgage as your "vacation home" will get a chuckle or two.
9. "Timing is in the hands of Higher Authority", I thought, as the bank called to remind us the bridge loan is due in 2 days.
   
10. A weight carried for so long is not easily forgotten, even after it is gone, which may be a good thing.
11. Jumping up and down and giving group hugs after losing a hard-fought volleyball game because you announced you closed on the house today creates fast friends.
12. More people are pulling for you than you realize.

Thank you everyone pulling for us. Woohoo!!!!!

Goofy Kids

I am surrounded. Where did they get this tendency?? HMMMMMMMMM...

BOY, noun: a noise with dirt on it.

We spent Sunday afternoon at my brother-in-law's because my nephew, Wyatt, was baptized. They have 5 boys, and their mother, Erica, showed me this definition. Perfect. Just as a comparison and contrast, I walked past the bathroom the other day and about keeled over dead from the smell. The door was open, the light was on, and the fan had not been turned on. I asked who did this out loud, and the answer was "One of the boys". I turned the fan on, sprayed some air freshener, and closed the door, wondering, but not really, whether they had washed their hands. The very next morning as I was in the shower, I hear a little knock on the door. Maren asked if she could come in and use the bathroom. I told her she could. A minute passed and I hear, "Oh, sorry, Mom, its a little stinky in here, so you better plug your nose." I didn't smell a thing. Then she flushes, washes her hands and says, "I'll turn the fan on for ya! Have a nice shower!", and closes the door. I was laughing and shaking my head at the difference.

"Boys are God's way of letting you know your house is too organized"

I spent last week and yesterday putting together the boys' room and a set of bunkbeds. Brandon was out of town, so I just dug in and built stuff. I love to construct things, so I was excited. I believe I get it from my Dad, the engineer. Show me a set of instructions and a box of parts and, heart pounding, I can't get started fast enough. Anyway, back to the boys. Ages 8 and 11, they are paper and rock collecting, busting to get outside, dirty clothes on the floor right next to the laundry basket throwing, can't find my shoes yelling, haircut and shower avoiding, holes in their socks and knees required, please, please change your underwear men, with a tiny toy fascination. OH, how I love them! So, I organized shelves with baskets of all sizes for the treasures, rows of books for them to read and then find a week later at the bottom of their bed, a huge jar to show off their sea shells and rocks, a hamper full of beloved stuffed animals they are too old to have on their bed, but too young to part with, and a desk with adequate lighting so they can pile their papers and not have room to do their homework. An over-the-door shoe organizer holds Star Wars and Bionicle figures, and Jacob's side of the closet has a low-hanging bar he can just toss his shirts over, because hangers are beyond him. I will get them some hooks for their robes and a bulletin board for the papers and pictures, and we have ordered an air purifier for Braeden's ease of breathing down in the dusty basement. And they are so excited, I bet they keep it clean a whole afternoon!