Ode to the Honeysuckle Leaf

Honeysuckle Leaf, Oh Honeysuckle Leaf
I didn't know you could save me such grief
If one were to stop near thee and squat
You fill the need of a relieved, tiny tot

Virtuous, Lovely and of Good Report!

A few times in your life, you get to be a part of something extra-ordinary. We just got back from a Young Women girls' camp that was one of those events.

15 Pirate Girls + 10 Pirate Leaders = A Pirate Camp Miracle

Pirate Flags, Pirate Chests, Pirate Games, 12th Pirate Article of Faith, Pirate Shirts, Pirate Bags, Pirate Socks, Pirate Nails, Pirate Skits..........

Horseback Riding 

(thanks to this cute girl, her mom-the camp leader, and the recipe book fundraiser.)

The Ghost of Pirate Camp Present (Notice the gift bow on top)

Smells like.....Butterscotch? Bishop found the good stuff later, the "Gin" tree.

We found this lovely senorita digging holes on the beach and singing.

                                              If the log rolls over we will die, we will die.......

The Values Walk. 

The girls followed a treasure map where they found each leader who gave a 5 minute talk about a personal experience with a value, then they gave the girls a "treasure" for their booty bag. It was a highlight of the week, (because our leaders are NOT boring).

Leader Arm Wrestling Tournament. 

I did not win. One leader (El Presidente), was in her underwear. I almost had an accident.

 The scrappy baby beehive. I wanted to kiss her face off.

The oldest girl, (my dear, dear graduated Laurel), and the youngest girl, (my dear, dear daughter), sharing a boat-ride in the hammock. She promised me last summer she would come to camp (even though she graduated), so my daughter could be around her. She kept her promise. And I love her.

This was the most well put together girl's camp I have ever seen. There were so many events worthy of note, the Blind Walk, the Leader Skit, the Night Games, the Value Walk, the YW Skits, the Horseback Riding, the Bryce Canyon Hike, the Food.....I could write a post about each one. But the simple moment I will never forget, was the girls sitting at the tables practicing "Guardians of Virtue", a song they would sing Sunday in sacrament when they reported on camp. These fifteen teenagers left their ipods, cellphones, friends, boys and families to be where their Heavenly Father asked them to be.  As they were singing, the Spirit filled the camp like a blanket. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. "Through virtue we find the power divine, that can change the world! We are Guardians of Virtue, we stand for what is right. We are beacons of His love, pointing others to His light. Walking in the paths of holiness, we seek the temple's peace, and become who he wants us to be." 

The leaders were crying, the girls were crying, and I was sure, the angels were crying.

My sweet girls, Virtuous, Lovely, and of Good Report.

36 Eggs

  

There really isn't anything to say, except I wish this was a scratch and sniff screen. By the end I was almost throwing up from the smell.

Warden Wanted

I am just not sure sure if I am going to make it.

Yesterday, Brock filled up the four-wheeler with water, again. The week before, he and Blake filled up the four-wheeler AND the lawnmower with the hose.

Today, we took the kids to Chili's. They were blowing straw wrappers at each other. Brock, who was standing next to me, picked an empty wrapper off the table, put it in his mouth, turned around, and spit in into the long curly dark hair of the young lady sitting in the booth behind me. In shame, I gasped, jumped around to wipe up the slobbery straw wrapper as it sludged down the back of her seat and her hair.

Earlier this month, I got to clean 36 eggs off the kitchen floor one day, then 7 more three days later.

The older kids are fighting. The little kids are crying. The house is a mess. It's 109 degrees outside, and some of the kids are running fevers.

This week, Whitley gave Blake a giant cup of grape juice, which he spilled all over the carpet when he tripped.

He also wiped an entire cube of butter on three of the chairs, the table and the floor.

Brock squeezed out the glitter glue on the den carpet, not in the form of a picture.

Blake was under water for a brief amount of time, under suspicious circumstances.

The top of Blake's pinky toe and entire toenail got scraped off outside. We don't know how, he didn't cry.

I hesitate to tell any more stories, lest anyone think I am raising a herd of feral children, and call the authorities.

I still have 6 weeks of summer, which is great, except...........

I just don't know if I am going to make it.

Bugs, Sunburns and Heaven

Brock,
I am the "Finder" of the Rollie Pollies, you are the "Getter", got it? I don't want to touch the bugs. I have to touch enough stuff I don't want to.

Do you think we will be held accountable for all the Rollie Pollie lives that have been lost at your hands? As I was digging up the rocks during our hunt today, I thought a lot about that. But the value of the time you consume collecting them made me justify the possibility, so the hunts will continue.

I am not as worried about the loss of the lives of the ants, however. I figure if you don't kill them with the hammer, Bill the Bugman will spray them anyway. Either way, they will die.

My favorite quote by you this week was when you were in your boots and cowboy hat, standing next to the toilet and said,"Someone poisoned the waterhole!"

I was wondering if you and Blake could just keep some kind of clothes on so the neighbors don't yell at you again. Everyday, 4, 5, pair of shorts all over the lawn next to the baby pool. You're going to get a sunburn on your (wee-nis).

And next time we drive past the house you just walked in where the guy was screaming, "GET OUT! GET OUT OF HERE!" and you came running home in a panic, crying, let me know so I can apologize.

I loved laying on the grass with you today, snuggling and laughing after our bug hunt while you told me about the world as you know it. I love your snake lisp where your tongue comes all the way out past your teeth when you talk. I love how you love me SOOO much, and how you want me to do everything with you. I am so lucky to be your mom.

Last night at the table, you told us all how Heavenly Father lives in the clouds and you get to pet the lion cubs there. You asked me once if you could go there and see them. I told you one day you could, but for now, I needed you here with me. You are just the little boy I wanted.

I love you bubby.
Mom

Father's Day Poem/Idea

I know it's a little late to post this idea for a Father's Day lesson, but I will anyway, in case you run last minute like I do! I was asked to write something for something some year......this was it.

North Star

Loni Stookey

When a Father teaches, Sometimes it seems,

the little one has quite different dreams,

But when His young one goes afar,

The Father's Lessons are his child's North Star.

I think our ward had giant star shapes cookies made to hand out to the men in the ward with this tied to the top. You could buy big wood stars and have kids paint them then write the things they love about their dad on them.  Happy Father's Day!

Sometimes Tatoos Might Be OK

My 9 year old son came home from Jumping Jacks (indoor bounce houses), yesterday with a giant tatoo of a skull, snakes, swords and other annoying things surrounding it. It was huge and I was not a fan. I asked him to work on getting it off. This morning he came in to my room in his robe and said, "Look Mom, It's almost off." He had been working on scratching it off all night and this morning. He is a good boy, isn't he? I said "Oh, thank you Trevor, You are such a good kid." When Trevor was baptized, I explained to him that the reason we get baptized is that we are joining Jesus' team. We devote our life to Him, serve Him and do what He asks us to do. We talked about this again and then Trev said, "Yah.......I think if I get a real tatoo," and he motioned down the length of his arm from shoulder to wrist to show me where the real tatoo would go, "it will say something like, 'I know my Savior lives' or  'Choose the Right'." After thinking about this for a few minutes, I have decided to consent to said tatoos, just so he never forgets either one of those two things.

PS. If I ever get a tatoo, it will be on my forehead, and it will say, "Not the Maid."