Ziggy's first…year…of kindergarten?

I've been…well, not amazingly consistent about first-day-of-kindergarten pictures for the children. But I have captured most of them, sweetly standing with their backbacks (we always give them a backpack for their 5th birthdays) at the front door. Surprisingly, Ziggy is the first kindergartner to start school in this new house! Teddy started in 2020 just a couple weeks before we moved here.

Of course, since my kindergartners haven't gone AWAY to school for…let's see…thirteen years now, one might question why they would need backpacks? Or to stand by the front door, for that matter? Well, I don't know. But they manage to make all kinds of use of those backpacks somehow! And the front door too!

So, although we are a few months late for the actual start of kindergarten, I made Zig go out and pose with his backpack to make sure we mark his kindergarten year with a picture! It's so fun to have him in school with us. I wasn't sure how it was going to work, honestly. He's always been such a wanderer…spending whole days outside pretending to be a "man" of some kind or other…and living in his own world. It seemed almost a shame to pull him away from that! That's mostly why I waited until he was actually "kindergarten age" based on school deadlines (i.e., age five on Sept 1st) rather than starting him last year (even though he turned five on…Sept 5th!).

This year he was turning six and it felt like the right time. We started school on his birthday and he was pretty excited, but on Day 3 we dragged him in for school from playing outside, and he yelled despairingly, “But I’m afraid I’m going to learrrrnnnnn somethiiiiiinng!!” So that wasn't the most auspicious beginning! Ha!

 

Luckily, I've learned a thing or two about teaching funny, wiggly, imaginative little boys over the years. I lured him in with a unit on Caves…then one on Pirates. And in the new year I'm going to hit him with Emergency Workers and he'll be hooked for life! 😄 I hope so, anyway!

What else to say about Ziggy? He loves dogs (especially huskies at the moment). He loves riding his bike. He (still) loves dressing up and "being" men. He took to reading maybe faster than any other of my kids, or at least as fast, although he's still working his way through the "100 Easy Lessons" reading book. He loves drawing, mostly Police Cars and Fire Engines, but also other surprising and interesting things. He reminds me a lot of little Sebby (in fact I just realized that I titled these pictures "seb_kindergarten_pics" in their file names!) but he's also his own man! I'm so glad he's growing up to be exactly who he is!

And here's a picture from September, closer to his actual first day of kindergarten, just for posterity!

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Nutcracker musings the public has(n't) been clamoring for

Maybe I say this every year, but the girls' progress in ballet is such a marvel to me. I hear them practicing the piano every day. And I see what they are doing in school, their spelling, their math, etc. But—you know how, for example, you might see your young nieces and nephews once a year—and every time, they've grown so much that they look like whole different people? But you never see that in your own kids because you see them every day? Well, ballet is the equivalent of that. I just drop the girls' off at their classes and never see them dancing. I know they're doing it, but in my mind they're just staying about the same skill level all the time. So then when I see them every six months in a performance—it's like they're entirely new dancers! They're amazing! Their improvements are staggering! It kind of makes me wish I could see the rest of their accomplishments through the same eyes, because I'm sure they're making similar progress that is hidden to me by familiarity.

And I also think I say this every year, but Sam's and my outlook on ballet as a whole has been…mixed. We've wondered and prayed a lot about if this is a worthwhile activity for the girls. Obviously there are plenty of good things about it, but the "dance world"…is not really a place we've wanted any of our daughters to end up permanently. We've known far too many deeply troubled dancers, sadly. But I'm sure it doesn't have to be that way…and we do like their little studio, we like that they offer daytime/homeschool classes, we like the things the director does—and does not—focus on. So we've been happy there. But every year it's a debate whether we keep it up another year. The girls LOVE it. They love it more all the time. But is it the best thing to do with time and resources, for them and for our family? That's the question I'm endlessly asking.

So, all of that said, I was astonished when Daisy and Junie told me that "everyone was saying" one of the two of them was going to be picked for Clara in the Nutcracker this year. I just had no idea that this thing which I keep thinking of as "a harmless-enough-for-now hobby that we might not even stick with forever"—might be becoming something they actually, objectively, excelled at. I hadn't realized that they, themselves, might begin to identify in some measure as dancers or ballerinas and not just "girls who did ballet."

Anyway, it's been an interesting realization or shift in perspective for me, and I'm not sure where it will lead. I still don't think they should, or will, pursue ballet past high school—but it's also interesting to think that I might not be the one who decides whether they do or not. And that I might not be the best person to decide. Hmmm! Life is so interesting as kids get older.

But for now, it has been just such a novel and surprising few months helping the three of them (especially Daisy and Junie) get ready for what was, legitimately, a major performance in which they played major roles. (Their studio is, obviously, not Ballet West or anything. But still! The girls worked really hard!) Daisy ended up getting cast as Clara, and we all wished she could have shared the part with Junie. But Junie's (six!) parts were challenging and amazing too. And Goldie keeps catching up in levels with girls way older than her. They're all remarkable. I've loved ballet ever since I was a little girl (watching it, mostly—I never took enough lessons to be remotely serious about it), watched good friends dance their way through the Nutcracker from Gingersnap all the way through Sugarplum Fairy, and I would never in a million years have guessed one of my own daughters could ever be Clara! And I was just so surprised and happy for her to get the chance!

(First moments on stage. Note Maid Junie pushing Fritz right out there!)

So there's all the backstory. But then there's another story too, and it feels like one of those things that is almost too special to share, but then it also feels like I can't share these pictures and NOT the story behind them. Just consider this a journal entry for Daisy to read and remember when she's older, I guess! Because here's what happened: the girls did the matinee performance, in which they had a bunch of parts but another girl was Clara. And during the hardest dance, the Russian dance, Daisy and Junie are alone onstage with their friend Levi, and it's SO fun to watch. They just leap and twirl all over the place.

And at the very end Daisy was doing a big twirling leap. (It has a ballet name, I'm sure. Tour jeté?) And she just crumpled, very gracefully actually, to the floor. And then she leaped up and twirled and finished and ran offstage and I thought nothing of it. But a couple dances later, in Waltz of the Flowers, Junie came out on one side of the stage in a group of four girls, and on the other side a group of three girls came out, and Goldie (who had finished her parts and was sitting by me in the audience) whispered, "Daisy is supposed to be in that group." And my heart just dropped. And right then I got a text on my phone that said "Please come quickly, Daisy needs you."

I went running backstage so fast. And my mind was already racing through possibilities. I knew she was hurt. And I started praying desperately "please don't let it be too bad." But when I got back and saw Daisy I knew it WAS bad. She was sitting with her foot propped up and a bag of ice on it, and it was all bruised and swollen through the arch, and she was just sobbing like her heart was broken. And then I thought MY heart would break too! I went over and hugged her and patted her and I kept saying "it's going to be okay, Daisy, it's going to be okay." And of course, we both knew it would be…eventually. Not like this would be the end of the world if she didn't dance Clara. But…also…it was unthinkable that she not dance Clara!

All the other dancers were coming by and giving Daisy hugs and saying "oh no, I'm so sorry!" in shocked and hushed tones, which almost made it worse, because they kept setting her off crying again and it was all so doleful. And Daisy's two teachers were saying, "it's okay, Daisy, the most important thing is that you don't hurt it further, so just sit here and don't move it, and even if you can't dance tonight it will all be okay!" Which was probably the right thing to say, but also made her feel even more hopeless. I kept telling her, "We don't know yet. Let's just wait and see. We have two hours, let's just wait and see." Then I called Sam and asked him if he could come as soon as possible and give Daisy a priesthood blessing. And I texted my friend and asked her to please pray for Daisy. And I prayed with all the faith I could muster myself.

Twenty minutes we had found a quiet little alcove and pulled a chair in, and lifted Daisy over to it, and Sam gave her a blessing. And as he was saying it I felt such hope. He blessed her that she would be able to dance, that she'd feel confident, and that her body would be able to do what it needed to do to heal. It wasn't 100% perfectly clear that she would be healed NOW. But Daisy believed it. You could just see her kind of take a deep breath and shake off her fears and decide to believe. She told me, "When I fell, it hurt really bad and once I got offstage I just collapsed. I couldn't even walk. But now when I touch it, there's not quite so much pain. And that's only after a half hour. So I think it's going to keep getting better."

There was another mom backstage who "happened to" work for a podiatrist. And she said to me, "it doesn't look good, but keep the ice on it and go get her some compression." So I ran over to Walmart and got some stretchy wrap to put on it, and when I got back Daisy had wiped her face and re-done her makeup, and she had the ice on her foot again, but she was looking sad and a little wilted. She told me, "My teacher says I can dance, but not on pointe. She says it's not worth maybe hurting myself more." And I said—I don't know what got into me, because I certainly don't know anything about dancing and what is and isn't wise—"Well, Daisy, why don't you put the wrap on, and then put on your pointe shoes and see how it feels, and if you feel like you can do it, just tell your teacher—'I want to try it on pointe. And I think I should get to decide because it's MY foot.'" 

Ha! I didn't know if Daisy would be brave enough! or if she should be! But we had both heard Sam's blessing! So she put on her pointe shoes and stood shakily up and danced a few steps. She told me later, "As soon as I put on the pointe shoes the pain just went away. And it stayed away until the last curtain call." So she went and told her teacher just what I'd said to say, and her teacher (bless her) said that was true and she'd let Daisy make the final decision. And Daisy decided she was ready, she'd practiced, she was full of adrenaline, and she was going to just go for it. I was so amazed and proud of her, and so worried, and trying to have faith in her blessing but also knowing that it doesn't always work out, that sometimes we need hard lessons in our lives, that sometimes great disappointments lead to great growth. But hoping so much that maybe this time…didn't need to be one of those times.

Daisy's Young Women leaders had come to watch, and some cousins, and all of our family, and I was saying hi to everyone and smiling and thanking them for coming, but inside I was just dying with nervousness. I didn't really want to tell anyone that she'd gotten hurt. I knew it would be okay even if she didn't dance her very best because all of those people love her, and they aren't there to critique her, and they probably wouldn't even know if she made mistakes. But for Daisy's sake I just wanted it to be good. She'd worked so hard and wanted so much to do well, and who knew if she'd ever do something like this ever again. And of course I just wanted her to be able to feel that she was at her best, and to enjoy this experience while she was having it!

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Consumed with Costumes

I think my girls love wearing their ballet costumes above all other things! Besides getting to wear make-up for the performance, I suppose. They do love that too. Things were weird with the dress rehearsals this year (something about the middle school where they perform charging more money…it's crazy how much it costs to rent out a [sorry to say it, but rather dim and mediocre] school auditorium!) so it seemed like they never had their costumes on in the daylight. And there was never any time! We were always rushing everywhere…rushing to get to class on time, rushing home to make dinner, rushing to Young Women's and Activity Days, rushing from cross-country practice, rushing to pick up Malachi from work…it makes me tired to remember it.

I did get a few photos at one of the dress rehearsals, when they were taking pictures of Daisy for the program.

I love this view of Daisy and her teachers looking over the photos, surrounded by racks of costumes…they were telling her things like, "Okay, lift your leg a little straighter and curve your arms a little more!" It took forever to get the shot exactly how they wanted it! (Meanwhile I was getting more and more annoyed about the dinner getting cold at home!)

(Daisy's smile was a little forced too after doing this for the ten thousandth time)

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Who so singularly loves us

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Sunday Morning Session of the October 2003 Conference.

I'm late posting this week, Christmas week, so I'll just leave you with a quote from one of my favorite talks of all time—Elder Holland's beautiful talk on God the Father.

That single, riveting scene [of God weeping over the world] does more to teach the true nature of God than any theological treatise could ever convey. It also helps us understand much more emphatically that vivid moment in the Book of Mormon allegory of the olive tree, when after digging and dunging, watering and weeding, trimming, pruning, transplanting, and grafting, the great Lord of the vineyard throws down his spade and his pruning shears and weeps, crying out to any who would listen, “What could I have done more for my vineyard?”

What an indelible image of God’s engagement in our lives! What anguish in a parent when His children do not choose Him nor “the gospel of God” He sent! How easy to love someone who so singularly loves us!…

Jesus did not come to improve God’s view of man nearly so much as He came to improve man’s view of God and to plead with them to love their Heavenly Father as He has always and will always love them. The plan of God, the power of God, the holiness of God, yes, even the anger and the judgment of God they had occasion to understand. But the love of God, the profound depth of His devotion to His children, they still did not fully know—until Christ came.

So feeding the hungry, healing the sick, rebuking hypocrisy, pleading for faith—this was Christ showing us the way of the Father, He who is “merciful and gracious, slow to anger, long-suffering and full of goodness.” In His life and especially in His death, Christ was declaring, “This is God’s compassion I am showing you, as well as that of my own.”…

I bear personal witness this day of a personal, living God, who knows our names, hears and answers prayers, and cherishes us eternally as children of His spirit. I testify that amidst the wondrously complex tasks inherent in the universe, He seeks our individual happiness and safety above all other godly concerns.

I loved this talk when I first heard it. But I didn't, couldn't, feel the truth of it half as powerfully before having the experiences I've had in the last 20 years; before having children of my own whom I have loved and cried over and feared for and often failed. My great and only hope rests in the love of our Heavenly Father and His perfect plan and His perfect son. Because of Them, all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well. I am so grateful for that truth!

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Four Lucias

What's this? Am I really posting about Santa Lucia Day before Christmas? I suppose I haven't actually pressed "publish" so I shouldn't count my chickens yet…

We've celebrated our share of Santa Lucia Days on the wrong day, due to scheduling conflicts. We've also gotten up early-early to have the rolls done before morning departures. This year looked like it was going to be a get-up-early year, but then I found out Malachi didn't need to be at cross-country in the morning, so we did a sort of hybrid where I got up early-early to make a pan of rolls for Sam before he left, and then we did Wave Two a little later for everyone else. It meant the girls didn't get to bring Daddy his lussekatter and cocoa in bed…and they were sad about that…but at least everyone else got a bit more sleep!

One more hug for Blankie…

…then to work! It was still dark enough to work by candlelight, which was cozy and nice. The camera actually makes the room look lighter than it was!

I decided to try something new and make the lussekatter dough the night before. Then as I was doing that, the girls reminded me that I had actually done the same thing last year! Huh. I have no memory of it, but it must have worked. It worked fine this year too. I made the dough at 11 pm or so, put it in the fridge for the bulk rise, got up (just for a minute) at 3 am and punched it down and put it on the counter for another bulk rise, then got up at 5:30 am to do the rest of the shaping and the rise on the pan. 

Daisy showed Clementine so patiently how to flatten out the snakes and roll them up!

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The most commonplace of lives

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Priesthood Session of the October 2003 Conference.

I like reading talks about the Priesthood. They feel so much more relevant to me than they used to—even the ones from back before people talked as much about women's connection to priesthood authority and power. My understanding of those principles has grown a lot in recent years, I think. But the talk I noticed most in this session was about something I don't feel very knowledgeable about—connection to our ancestors. President Faust said,

We can have exciting experiences as we learn about our vibrant, dynamic ancestors. They were very real, living people with problems, hopes, and dreams like we have today.

In many ways each of us is the sum total of what our ancestors were. The virtues they had may be our virtues, their strengths our strengths, and in a way their challenges could be our challenges. Some of their traits may be our traits.

I'm so interested in this idea. I can see lots of ways I resemble my mom and my dad. But I just don't know my farther-back ancestors well enough to make those connections! My mom often told us stories about our pioneer heritage, so I know about Robert Gardner and Alma Helaman Hale coming across the plains, and the Fonnesbecks leaving Denmark and coming to Cache Valley, and I've read histories of the Nelsons who settled in Malad and then Milton. But I've never seen myself in any of those people, and maybe that's just because I haven't looked? Or I haven't tried hard enough to see them as real people like me? I definitely haven't helped my kids learn much about them either. I do feel a sense that my ancestors matter, that they care about me and I should know them better. But I just haven't found a way to DO that yet, I guess. So it will be something I keep working on!

President Faust continues:

It is a joy to become acquainted with our forebears who died long ago.…

I have been fascinated by learning of some of the unknown, ordinary people whose records tell of heroic lives. Arthur R. Bassett once said: “Who among us wants to throw stones at their own ancestors? I, for one, am intrigued by their battles—their victories as well as their defeats. … I am fascinated by what may seem the most commonplace of lives, because I have come to realize the excitement that is concealed in the commonplace.”

 

Other posts in this series:

Individual Responsibility—by Rozy

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In the Hands of God

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Afternoon Session of the October 2003 Conference.

I liked Elder W. Craig Zwick's talk "The Lord Thy God Will Hold Thy Hand." He talks about the symbolism of God's hands and how they show care and power. It's a symbol I've always liked too! Elder Zwick says:

To be in the hands of God would suggest that we are not only under His watchful care but also that we are guarded and protected by His wondrous power.

Elder Zwick tells an experience where he blessed his tiny premature baby and was amazed that his own hands could hold such power and authority from God. I've felt that same amazement as Sam has given priesthood blessings to our family. But even beyond that, I was struck by the image of trust implied by being held in someone's hands (as we hold a baby). It just feels so touching to imagine God holding us in his hands like that—gently and carefully, carrying us wherever we need to be. Elder Zwick says,

The great plan of happiness includes a proverbial roller coaster of challenging times along with the most joyful times. Yes, we all have our moments of difficulty and heartbreak. Occasionally, they are so difficult for us that we just want to give up. There are times when our steps are unsteady, when we feel discouraged and even reach out in desperation.…

Just as little children trust, each of us must have that same childlike, unreserved trust. We must all remember that we are sons and daughters of God and that He loves us very much. If we truly understand who we are, we will have an unfailing source of hope and comfort.

And then he gave this interesting insight:

Imagine the wounds in [Jesus'] hands. His weathered hands, yes, even His hands of torn flesh and physical sacrifice, give our own hands greater power and direction.

It is the wounded Christ who leads us through our moments of difficulty. It is He who bears us up when we need more air to breathe or direction to follow or even more courage to continue.

I haven't thought about how much comfort "the wounded Christ" gives, but it's true. Part of what helps me want to trust Him is remembering what He was willing to go through in order to truly understand me—the wounds he accepted so He would know how to succor His people. Knowing He did this, knowing He will always act from a place of compassion and understanding, gives me such confidence that He can lead me out of any difficulty.

Other posts in this series:

The Standard of Truth—by Rozy

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An indeterminate period of Fall

I don't know why it seems so indecent to post pictures of early Fall when it's late Fall. For some reason this is the time of year time passes so fast that each group of pictures feels like it belongs to some unreachable, unfathomable past. Was all of this only a month or two ago? Seems unlikely. But here we are.

Ziggy got some birthday money from Grandma Nielson and pestered Sam until he took him out to the store to spend it. (It was a month past his birthday by then.) Somehow he found this cute little barking husky dog and he was SO HAPPY. He even had some more money left to buy some little toy cars. Half the time, I deposit the birthday money for the kids and have them pay their tithing on it, and then forget about it (sorry Grandma). But I should remember to let them go out and spend it more often, because it is so fun for them!

Here are some other goings-on from October and November:

Pretty temple

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Coloring in the sunlight

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 Beautiful sunrise! I like the brief window of days when the sunrise happens right at the time we're getting up for scriptures. Seems like it doesn't last long.

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 A pretty fall morning before Halloween

Another pretty Fall day—dark skies and sun are one of my favorite combinations

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One of our neighbor families had a sort of talking skeleton (?) on their porch at Halloween time. I think it was a skeleton waiter holding a tray and a glass. When you walked past, it would turn its head and start talking, which both delighted and half-terrified Zig, I think. He rode his bike over there practically every day so he could listen to it, and he memorized its entire recorded speech. Teddy helped him write it on a paper one day. I wish you could hear the way Ziggy imitated this speech in a spooky, sort of vaguely British voice. As I was writing this post, Zig came up and saw the picture and immediately launched into it again, so I will transcribe it for your benefit:

Hello, booty, what may I get you today? I've been told I'm best lawten from tip-top to comptec.[???] So please, step up to the bar, and I'll serve you what is likely to be the best beverage you've ever had…and your last. Ha ha ha ha ha.

(As you can see, some of the words didn't quite make it into his comprehension…like when you sing along to a song you don't quite know the lyrics to.)

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Persuaded of Promises

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Morning Session of the October 2003 Conference.

Sister Anne C. Pingree's talk was named from one of my favorite scriptures (Hebrews11:13): "Seeing the Promises Afar Off."

Faith, the spiritual ability to be persuaded of promises that are seen “afar off” but that may not be attained in this life, is a sure measure of those who truly believe.

It matters not where we live or what our individual circumstances may be. Each day our righteous living can demonstrate a faith in Jesus Christ that sees beyond mortal heartaches, disappointments, and unfulfilled promises. It is a glorious thing to possess a faith that enables us to look forward to that day “when all that was promised the Saints will be given.”

A few years ago when President Nelson asked us to study God's promises to Covenant Israel, I made a list and hung it on my bathroom wall. It's still hanging there, and sometimes I forget to even see it, but every time I start reading it I'm overcome with gratitude. I've found so much hope and comfort in these promises! This talk reminded me that I should revisit them again (and maybe even start looking for more to add to the list)!

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Thanksgiving, and a Flight

 

Thanksgiving was great! If one measures one's Thanksgiving success by numbers of pies made, it was our best ever—ten pies!

Only a blurry picture of them, sadly, as if through the lens of memory. O that we were still eating these now! Chocolate Chip Cookie Pie (3), Lemon Sour Cream Pie (3), Caramel Apple Cheesecake (1), Pomegranate Cream Cheese (2), and Peanut Butter Chocolate (1).

A better picture of the caramel apple cheesecake. This was my favorite this year. SO good.

And lemon sour cream, my other perennial favorite. If I could only have one kind of pie for the rest of my life, it would be this one.

We did Pie Prep on the Wednesday. I had to label all the crusts to keep straight which filling was going in which! Goldie made the Lemon Sour Cream Pies and one of the Pomegranates.

Junie (with Clementine's help) made the other pomegranate.

The little boys helped by getting the pomegranate seeds out of the fruit! No easy task. My mom had given a bunch of them all to us after going to pick them from her friend's house in Nevada.

Daisy made ALL these chocolate chip cookie pies!

Seb, when not snuggling with Clementine ("A hurt a ear!" she kept saying, sadly), made the peanut butter pie, and I made the caramel apple cheesecake.

We had my mom, Sam's parents, two nephews, two nieces, and a grand-nephew (?!) over for dinner on the actual day. We basically had Abe there too—he was on FaceTime with us most of the day and had a good long talk with each of his siblings and his grandparents! It was really fun. 

Ziggy was SO excited about everyone coming, he waited (wrapped in a blanket) on the porch swing for over an hour.

Poor faithful fellow.

All the food prep and greeting people and setting out the feast seems to mean we never get many pictures after everyone comes. But everything tasted great, and I did get this picture of Clementine feeding Gus, for some reason.

We put up a paper on the wall for each letter of the alphabet and let people write things they were thankful for on them.

We played some fun games after dinner

And ate lots of pie. A great day!

A few days after Thanksgiving, Seb went on a "Discovery Flight" with the Flight School he's interested in attending. The instructor is in our ward and said Seb could bring Teddy too! They flew all around the valley and even got to fly over our house! Seb texted when they were coming and we all ran outside and waved. Can you see them?

Seb took this picture from the air—see our big bally hill? And our house right next to it.

Such a fun thing!

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