The adventures of Pandy

For the past several nights I've been telling the kids stories about the adventures of Pandy the Panda, which is Koa's stuffed bear. These are his adventures so far:

He has made friends with three monster trucks in Texas, and he is now their pen pal.

On his journey to and from Texas, he ate a variety of new foods, including spaghetti, sushi, and Mexican food.

He has painted oodles of imaginary creatures that never existed and never will, and he has had an art gallery owner but then and compile them into a book. Now here spends one day every month writing to his pen pals and autographing books.

He has read about broomsticks and cats and dinosaurs.

He has attempted his very own paleontological dig in his backyard in the bamboo forest, but when he found no fossils in a whole month, he wrote to a real paleontologist and asked what was wrong. She quite back, they struck up a correspondence, and she eventually invited him to a real dig.

Next he's going to use all that space he dug up to start growing a garden and probably canning some food for the local poor people.

But after that I'm out of ideas. What kinds of adventures should an enterprising panda have next?

Conducting an Experiment

It turns out that I have once again been in a blogging funk. But at the same time, I frequently share random things that happen in our family and silly stuff ... on Facebook. Unfortunately, most of my siblings aren't on Facebook. This is a problem, since they are some of the main people I want to update about our life.

At the same time, I've been noticing some things I'm not happy about in myself. I've been getting too concerned about how many "likes" I get on my posts in Facebook. I check far too often just to see if anyone liked what I wrote. It is not where my focus should be. It has become a method of avoiding other things in life.

Previously I had thought, "This is just one tiny thing. I can't put this in a blog post because it's tiny and pointless and blah blah blah." Blog posts must be long and thoughtful and well edited. So I haven't been writing, just telling myself I'll get to it later ... in that mysterious place when I suddenly "have time." Which never comes.

All of which brings me to my experiment. It may not work at all. It may not be a solution that helps me or that improves communication with the people that I love. But I'm going to try it. When I would normally write a post on Facebook, I'm going to put it here instead. Even when it's dorky or short or whatever. I'll still post some things on Facebook, but at least for a little while, most of the silly family stuff is going on this blog. I'll see how it goes.

I may or may not post links to these blog posts on Facebook. I don't know. So if you want updates from me, you should probably follow this blog via email or something. But I won't be offended if you don't. And if you do, I'd love to have you comment occasionally! One of the things I miss on Facebook is actual conversation about things. It's too easy to just push the "like" button and move on.

Oh, and one last thing: I'm doing this pretty much exclusively in my phone. So no more fancy formatting attempts. No smart quotes (which you must know is simply torturing me!). And probably a lot of terrible editing. Which, again, is going to cause me more suffering than it causes you.

And that's about it! I make no guarantees that it will work out at all. That's life!

Sleeping Like Tree Trunks

The other morning, Coriel and I were sitting on the couch talking about how we’d slept. I asked her if she had slept like a log, which she found confusing. So of course I had to explain the idiom, along with “slept like a baby,” which we both agreed was not an appropriate metaphor for deep, restful sleep. In fact, according to her, both of these idioms were weird. After all, logs don’t sleep. 

“How do you know?” I said. “Maybe they’re always asleep. Maybe you’ve never seen a log that’s awake. Maybe they dance around when they’re awake.”

We then went on to discuss tree trunks. I was certain that they are also always asleep.

“No. Tree trunks are awake,” she declared. “You’ve never seen a tree trunk that’s asleep.”

“How do you know?”

“When trees are asleep, they snore really loudly, like a police siren and a car crash put together.”

And now you know.

What's in a Name?

I can still remember the overpowering feeling that came over me when Coriel was born, one of peaceful, but also playful, happiness. This was how I knew that the name Felice was just right for her middle name. It wasn’t me creating that feeling (because, hey, I’d just been through the most painful and emotionally overwhelming experience of my life). It was her, her spirit, who she was.

She was the easiest. I knew her immediately.

Addra took a while longer, but even still we knew over a few days that Bliss was right for her, another joyful name.

Now, of course, we’d sort of started a pattern. When I was pregnant with Koa, we realized we had better at least look carefully at joyful names or else someday the kid was gonna wonder if we didn’t like him.

We wracked our brains. We scoured the internet. I don’t think it was until after he was born that Brice finally discovered the right name, and I’m still not sure how he found it. But “koa” is a word that means “joyful” in Maori, with the extra bonus that it means “warrior” in Hawaiian. And, of course, the fact that it suits him.

It was almost too much to ask that we might find a name for our fourth child that would follow this theme. Because, of course, at this point, we would really be signing up for years of family therapy if the child didn’t get a “happy” name. Again, we had a difficult time. This is partially because boy names are just harder for us, partially because we were seeking a particular meaning (if possible, anyway), and partially because—let’s be honest—a small part of us really wanted an “E” name so that our kids would spell out CAKE.*

I also thought we should look carefully at names that mean “faith,” because more than with any of the other children, taking this leap toward having a baby was an act of faith in God’s plan for us, and it was a terrifying one at that.

We tried things out. We joked about various silly ideas, like “Agapito Roughty” (a combination of two names we’d heard while doing work in the temple). We vetoed quite a number of options. We came down to about five that we thought we might like, and we tried them all out on the giant belly. Then we tried them again. Then we started combining them. Only one of our options, “Asher” (we’d call him Ash), had a meaning related to “joy.” But I have to confess it was slightly too popular for me to be perfectly happy about it.**

Then, a few weeks before the babe was born, Brice was reading the story of Ammon in the Book of Mormon. If you’re unfamiliar with it, or need a refresher, here’s the salient part: Ammon and his brothers, and their friend Alma, had been very wicked people, but through miraculous intervention, they had changed, repented, and become great missionaries, spreading the joy of the gospel all through the land, especially to people who had traditionally been hateful toward their people and the gospel. After a time, they came back together to share in their excitement over their successes. Ammon especially was vocal about his joy, and his brothers told him he was being kind of braggy. This was his response: “I do not boast in my own strength, nor in my own wisdom; but behold, my joy is full, yea, my heart is brim with joy, and I will rejoice in my God” (Alma 26:11).

And there it was, the joy we were looking for. We didn’t officially settle on the name until a couple of days after his birth, but it became the top contender a week or two before. So though his name doesn’t literally mean “joy” or “happy,”*** it still comes from a place of joy, and that seems right to us.****

As I think about it, each of our children’s “happy” names holds a different nuance, and each represents something I hope they will have in their lives.

~ Coriel’s is the deep, inward peace and joy that comes from within.

~ Addra’s is the full-bodied joy of sheer existence.

~ Koa’s is the joy of being strong in a meaningful, righteous cause.

~ Ammon’s is the joy of knowing that God has a plan and a wonderful place for you in it.

So that’s how Ammon got his name, and we think it suits him very well. We have been blessed in all of our children to have such joyful spirits, and I’m grateful for that. I sincerely hope and pray that I can help them to keep those joys even when life is hard or when circumstances try to make them despair. Also, I hope that I will never make the mistake of making them think they should be happy at any cost. I don’t believe happiness is the final goal; I think it’s just a natural outgrowth of being a good, loving, compassionate person.

Finally, a note on pronunciation: The first time I was asked how to pronounce “Ammon,” I went into this huge, long spiel that may or may not have trotted out my love of the schwa. Then I realized I could just say that it rhymes with “ham ‘n’ cheese” (minus the cheese, of course). And then, finally, Brice pointed out that it also rhymes with “salmon.” So there you go, an actually simple and sensible pronunciation guide at last. It rhymes with “salmon.”

And now you know more than you ever wanted to about the children’s names.

Ha, look! Now he looks disarmed too!
Har har har.

* Now, instead, the spell out “CAKA,” which admittedly sounds suspiciously like how a small child says “yucky,” but that’s just too bad.

** No, this is not a blog post analyzing my personal hang-ups about ridiculous things.

*** Actually, it apparently literally means “a people.”

**** Also, if you are thinking about a joke about how Ammon is “disarming,” just know that we’ve already gotten it several times. :) *****

***** Again, if you’re not familiar with the Book of Mormon, there’s a part where Ammon is serving the king of the people he’s a missionary to, and he saves the king’s sheep—and the servants—from a band of robbers. He does this by chopping off the robbers’ arms. Hence “disarming.” Har har har.

Read Around the World: Baltimore, Maryland

This summer we’ve been reading around the world along with this blog. It’s been fun to read stories set in other cultures and learn some interesting new facts! Here were some of my favorites (in no particular order):

Throw Your Tooth on the Roof, by Selby Beeler (nonfic). What do children around the world do when they lose a tooth?

What the World Eats, by Faith D’Aluisio (nonfic). So fascinating! Photos of what various families around the world eat and how much it costs. The disparities and variety is incredible.

Biblioburro, by Jeanette Winter (nonfic). A former teacher decides to bring books to tiny, remote villages in Colombia.

Seeds of Change: Wangari’s Gift to the World, by Jen Cullerton Johnson (nonfic). Planting trees and help Kenya. The power of a single woman.

A Little Book of Sloth, by Lucy Cooke (nonfic, sort of). Holy adorableness, Batman! Learn real stuff about sloths and look at adorable pictures of sloths and pretty much fall into a sloth-cuteness coma. Seriously.

Diary of a Wombat, by Jackie French (fic). Featuring the cutest wombat sleeping poses ever.

The Seven Chinese Sisters, by Kathy Tucker (fic). Same concept as the Five Chinese Brothers, except for fewer (no) gruesome executions.

The Empty Pot, by Demi (fic). A legend about how a wise emperor chose his heir.

The Problem with Chickens, by Bruce McMillan (fic). How a small Icelandic village keeps eggs.

As part of the journey, everyone who wants to gets to add their own little “Growing Up Around the World” entry. So here’s ours!

– Tell us about your family.

There are six of us: Mom, Dad, and four kiddos ages 8 years to 3 months. We all love to read and love hanging out together.

– Tell us about where you live and how long you’ve lived there.

We live in Maryland, just about ten minutes south of Baltimore. We’ve been here six years now. Before that, we lived in Utah.

– What do you think is unique and special about living where you do?

Fireflies! We love fireflies.

Also, duckpin bowling. It’s a lot like regular bowling, with ten pins and a ball, but the ball is smaller and lighter, without finger holes. Also, you get three throws instead of two, the pins are smaller, and the pins are not reset in between throws.

– What languages are spoken there? If it’s different from English, can you help us learn a few common phrases?

Pretty much English, although our church group also has several families from the Philippines.

– What are some traditional foods there?

Hmmm . . .  people here do seem to like fried chicken a lot. We’re close enough to the South in the USA that there’s a fair amount of “Southern food,” which usually involves frying things. :)

This was the street about three days after this
year's huge snowstorm. Good for sledding.

– Tell us about the climate where you live.

Hot and humid in the summers, cold in the winters. There can be huge snowstorms occasionally, but usually it’s just small snowstorms. Last year there was one big snowstorm over a weekend that shut down all the public schools for a whole week!

– What does school look like for the majority of kids where you live?

Pretty standard American school system—school in the morning and early afternoon, lunch break, recess, all that jazz.

– What does school look like for your family?

When possible, we like to start the day (after breakfast and such) with reading aloud together. We currently have one independent reader (the 8yo), but she likes to be read to as well, for our read-aloud time. The 5yo and 2yo love to be read to endlessly, and sometimes it’s a battle between the 2yo’s picture books and everything we’re actually reading for school. We start with scriptures and maybe some scripture-related videos. Then we usually have a couple of picture books related to what we’re studying during the week—history, musicians and artists, science, etc. Then we read a couple of chapters of a longer book. This is our favorite and most organized time of the day.

The rest of the official “school” portion is a mix of doing math (hooray for Beast Academy!) and language arts for the 8yo and 5yo while appeasing the 2yo and feeding or holding the 3mo. Usually we have one day that has the big science project on it and one day that has a bigger music or art project. Also, we have two co-ops during the regular school year.

The non-school portion of the day is whatever the kids are excited about. There’s tons of pretending games (for pretty much every book the 8yo reads, they end up playing a game where they’re children of the main characters), ooooooodles of books, playing with blocks, playing in the backyard, some TV, lots of drawing, etc.

– Are there any special festivals or traditions you’d like to tell us about related to where you live?

There probably are, but we haven’t done them yet. One great thing about this area, though, is lots of historical stuff. For example, Fort McHenry, which inspired the writing of our national anthem, is here. Baltimore is also home to Edgar Allen Poe!

Chasing the last fireflies of the year.

– If you ever had to move away from where you live, what do you think you’d miss most?

FIREFLIES! I cannot say enough good things about fireflies.

– Do you have a favorite book that takes place in your region/country?

Not so far. We’ll have to try to find one! Although the Mercy Watson books by Kate DiCamillo, set just generally in the South, are some favorites—they’re about a pig who loves toast “with a great deal of butter on it.”

That one time I gave blood

So, every once in a while, I tell someone this story about how I donated blood and the lady was maybe concerned she'd hit an artery because it flowed so fast (apparently there's a minimum flow rate, and if it's faster than that, they have to be careful and make sure everything's okay--I was barely slower than that). However, everything seemed fine, so she gave me what I assumed were the usual discharge instructions and I went home. And I followed them. And I ended up with this super awesome bruising that extended from halfway up my upper arm down to my wrist. I had extremely limited movement for a couple of weeks from all the bruising. It was really all very funny.

And I think that probably the people listening to my story think I'm exaggerating. Because that's pretty crazy, right?

Well, recently I rediscovered the picture we took. I think this may have been after the bruising started going back down. See?

Enjoy.

A Tribute to Pie

When I was a kid, we moved around a lot. Always in the same general area, but always far enough away that I ended up at four or five different elementary schools. That made it virtually impossible to really stay friends with anyone for very long.

Enter my big brother.

Makani (hereafter known as Pie, for reasons that take too long to explain) was an excellent friend, with the bonus that I could always take with me when we moved. He’s almost four years older than me, and you’d think that would be too great a gulf for children our age, especially since we are the opposite sex. But it somehow wasn’t.

Pie was the best kind of brother and friend. He occasionally let me play when he and his friends were doing D&D, but even when I wasn’t invited, he was still kind when I intruded. When it was just us, he would pretend to be a monster (level 1–10, depending on the challenge I wanted) and chase me around the house until I defeated him. Another time he set up a silly restaurant for me and my friends, menu and all. The grated cheese with cinnamon and sugar on top was the best. Yum.

I remember as we walked to school together one year, I would called him shrimp (he was on the short end), and he would pretend to hide from the cars we passed, afraid that they would want to eat him.

As we grew older, he was my idol. He competed in MathCounts, and I followed in his footsteps (I loved math on my own, but I know his example contributed to it). I knew that he was in debate in high school, so I wanted to debate too. It’s funny—because of a mix up, he had a trophy for Lincoln-Douglas debate, even though he actually did policy. But my brain latched onto L-D, so that’s what I did, thinking I was following in his footsteps. I just wanted to be like him.

Me, the hubby, and the handsome brothers
(Pie is next to me on my left, your right)

We’re both adults now (obv), and we’re both terrible at keeping in touch. But that doesn’t particularly matter, because I always know he loves me and wants the best for me and believes in me. He is a man who helped form my view of what a good man is. Because of him (and my dad and a few others, of course), I grew up without that stifling feeling that some women have of needing to pretend to be dumb so that boys will accept you. He never expected me to be anything other than smart, funny, kind. The men in my life were never intimidated by my success as I was growing up—they expected and supported it.

He was one of my first writing fans, but he manages to not make me feel guilty when he asks how the writing is going (since it usually isn’t). He’ll buy copies of my books (probably more than he needs) if I’m ever published. He and his wife did more for my wedding reception than I probably know—but I do know that they bought a great deal of the food and helped a lot with preparations, without making me feel like a burden. He has always been willing to help me in whatever I need.

I got to see him recently, on a trip out to Utah, and it was lovely. We hadn’t seen each other in over two years. We talked and talked and talked while our kids played and generally entertained themselves. It was happy but also sad. I miss the get-togethers we used to have until everyone started moving and going their separate ways.

Last week, Pie turned one year older, and probably a year wiser too. I’m grateful to have him in my life. In an art class I took in high school, we had an assignment that required we each bring a photograph to work from. I chose one of Makani, maybe five or six years old, standing in our front yard in a Superman costume. That’s who he was through all my childhood: my hero.

Happy birthday, Pie!