Pandie Isn't On a Mission Anymore!

Monday July 26, 1993 Laura is 9, Jasmine is 8 Trina is 3 1/2 Lark is 10 months

The house is nearly completely clean! (Just need to sort through my desk & the art projects closet). It occurs to me that I am the same age now that my mom was when I was in 7th grade and we moved to Salinas. Weird.

Steve read aloud to the girls from the scriptures before he went back to work at 9 p.m. and then I read aloud to them from an OZ book (my favorite books when I was in the fourth grade). Lark fell asleep on my lap and Trina was soon asleep beside me (no nap today)so I put Lark in her crib and took Trina to her bed and was just settling down to enjoy a quiet minute when Jasmine marched up from her room to tell me she wanted her (stuffed)panda so I told her to get it.

"It's in Laura's room," she told me. (Laura was in her room reading).

"Go get it," I told Jasmine.

I overheard Jasmine announce to Laura, "Pandie isn't on a mission any more!"

I had to laugh. Leave it to Laura to find a way to get all the dolls and stuffed animals into her bedroom. (We had attended a church meeting yesterday where a co-worker was speaking about missionary work.)

Help Yourself

Thursday, July 22nd, 1993 Laura is 9, Trina is 3 1/2

When I came home from work at noon I noticed Trina laboriously hauling a stepstool up the stairs. I didn't pay much attention to her at that moment but a few minutes later while I was stirring lunch Laura hollered that Trina was about to empty the contents of the medicine basket onto the floor. Steve stopped making papersack "Native American" costumes for the girls to wear in a neighborhood "Pioneer Day" parade and exchanged a look with me.

"She wants a band-aid," I said. "Will you get one for her, Laura?"

Later, when Trina needed some more bandaids she told me how to apply them.

Ten Years of Marriage--Looking on the Bright Side...

Thursday, June 17, 1993 12:45 a.m. (actually June 18, sigh)

Has it really been a year since I've written in this journal?

Just minutes ago I laid baby Lark (9 months old now) into her crib and tucked Trina (now 3 1/2) in. Then (as long as I was up) I put the last load of laundry into the dryer so as not to have to re-wash it in the morning. Then I thought I may as well take out the diaper garbage, only to find the dumpster was still out in the circle needing to be brought back up into the driveway. That done, I thought I'd finish up the dishes before turning in. And while doing that I thought I'd look for this journal.

Steve and I have been trading turns being ill. It was my turn yesterday (flu). Goodness, I threw up twice which was more than I'd done in all five pregnancies combined!. Today was Steve's turn (cold and sore throat). That's how he was last year on our anniversary! Does marriage make us sick? (That's a joke).

Laura (age nine) wanted us to have a "romantic" day. She brought us breakfast in bed on a cookie tray. The menu was fruit salad, 7-up (a treat reserved for sick days), and hot chocolate. She was wearing red shorts, her "Teachers Have Class" t-shirt, and a red bow in her hair. She wanted to fix all our meals today but I assured her I could manage lunch (mashed potatoes and gravy which we call "volcanoes" and fresh vegetables). Margret (age six) helped make supper (hot dogs and leftover macaroni-tuna salad which Steve made yesterday, and cookies).

The girls felt bad that Steve and I weren't doing anything "special". I insisted it was okay and that we would when we both felt better.

Here is what being ill relieved us of at work:
The magician that was scheduled to perform at the library as a summer reading program feature cancelled due to illness so...
Bob and Laurie managed the crowd of 270 children with the "sidewalk petroglyph" chalk art program I had planned.
Luckily this was the first week since May that I didn't have any Creative Memories classes scheduled, so I didn't have to cancel any.
Luckily Steve only missed one massage client appointment.
Luckily were were ill on different days so we could cover for each other.

Time wishes I would make:
Time to read the mountain of books I have checked out (over 100 today, 1/3rd of which are overdue in the past three days). I "test drive" picture books and readers on my own children.
Time to catch up on photograph album scrapbooks.
Time to catch up on mending and sewing projects and make dolls and dollclothes for my girls' enjoyment.
Time to learn how to use my new serger (have my third lesson tomorrow and am supposed to have a t-shirt pattern cut out and ready to assemble).

So, what can I say about today other than having accomplished four loads of laundry, bathing and washing hair of four of my five daughters and making two simple meals with minimal clean up? Not much.

Laura had her second art class at the Visual Art Institute. Steve left with her at 9:30 a.m. and returned at noon, during which time he wrote out invoices. I was at home waiting for Lark to go down for a nap so I could shower. She finally slept at 1:00 p.m. at which time the girls were at peril of death if they woke her before I finished my shower. (I had indulged in sleeping in because Lark had slept with us all last night which means I didn't sleep well).

We have begun our ambitious venture of summer "home-schooling" which we are calling The Family Learning Connection. If we're successful this summer I am considering keeping Laura and Jasmine home in the fall. At this point I feel only 50% successful which is not enough. It has been eye-opening though to see how fully we've shrugged off the responsibility of teaching to both the public school and the Sunday school.

Steve and I agree that this ten years has gone by so much faster than the twenty preceeding years and how happy we are. We are still struggling financially and I suppose that is a blessing too.

As for the girls -- today they mostly watched television and played out in the yard--fairly typical. Lark ate a cookie today (I know, "shame on me") but she seems to be okay.

Our Ninth Anniversary--"A Day in the Life of..."

Wednesday, June 17th, 1992

It is 11:30 p.m. and here is our "Day In the Life of..."

I am about 28 weeks pregnant with our fifth child. I worked today from 8:30 to 4:30 with no time for lunch. I had breakfast this morning with Jasmine and Margret. (Margret had a hysterical fit yesterday when I ate breakfast without her).

Steve is more or less unemployed these days. His project for today was clearing out the downstairs hall closet and setting up a computer desk there. It looks very nice. He did several massages yesterday and was paid $200 this week (by two clients) so was able to make a loan payment today.

Laura seemed happy toaday. She is eight years old and has bouts of silliness and seriousness. She washed the supper dishes. Her gift to us was half of a purse-size band-aid dispenser.

Jasmine, seven, wanted desperately to be part of our anniversary celebration. She wished we could have gone to Lagoon today using the church discount tickets. She was even a little clingy. She had been coloring a cardboard box lid with markers all week and wrapped it and wrote a gift tag. She said the lid was "to take to work."

Margret, five, wanted to give us more than a kiss and a hug. She wanted to be my twin. Laura helped her select two pansies from the front yard to pluck and give to Steve and I.

Trina, two and a half, is still a diaper girl who wants us to give her a bottle (though we don't) and sleeps with us most of most nights. Stubborn and independent, she spilt most of a large container of chocolate drink mix powder today trying to fix herself a glass of chocolate milk.

Steve's mom watched the girls while we went to a movie. We saw "Hook" at the dollar theatre (a perfect choice), and ate leftovers when we got home. Plus a pint of Baskin Robbins ice cream.

Of Bedtime Hymns and Stories and Rainbow-land

March 11, 1992 Wednesday
Laura is 7, Jasmine is 6, Margret is 4, and Trina is 1.

Recently I've been taking the hymn book up to the girls' room at bedtime and singing them a hymn or two (all verses). I suppose one advantage to having them all in one room is that they can enjoy a bedtime story and / or song while snug in their own beds -- and I only have to go through it once!

There seem to be so little opportunity to sing hymns in church anymore. I want my children to know them and feel their message and comfort as I do. My sister Dawna tells me that her husband Ed is doing this too.

I wanted the light to be dim for the girls last night so I thought I'd try telling the girls a story rather than reading one. I have little or no confidence in myself as a storyteller so I began hesitantly. To my suprise and the girls' delight a story did spill out. I began...

"Once upon a time there were three little girls."

Laura broke in, "Oh, I know this story. It's about us."

"I mean," I continued, "once upon a time there were three little boys. They lived in a far-off city named Wichitatina. Their names were Lauren, Jasper, and Mark."

Laura broke in again (noticing the similarity of the boys' names to hers and her sisters and pointed to the crib),asking "What about their baby brother?"

"They didn't have one," I explained.

I proceeded to tell what the brothers liked to play (drawing on my memories of a childhood friend of mine, Kenny W.). Then, looking at the chaos on the bedroom floor I explained how the boys liked to be outside mostly but when they came inside they liked to dump all their toys in the middle of their room and pretend it was the unnavigable ocean floor. Their mother didn't like this and told them that someday there might be an ocean earthquake and all their toys would fall into the middle of the earth and be lost forever. But the boys never believed her.

"The boys wished they could have a pet cow and they would call her Gertrude. She would crop their lawn for them so they'd never have to mow. She would eat apples off their tree and give them milk. They would ride her and climb off her back onto their swingset lookout which they called The Eagles Nest. They'd pretend the lookout was a ship."

I proceeded to tell their sea adventures.

"There was a little problem because both Jasper and Lauren thought they ought to be captain and they argued about this a lot and poor Mark was always first mate--never captain. One day they were going on about this and in such a heated dispute that only little Mark noticed the funny green color in the sky and the hush that came over the landscape. Then he heard a strange buzzing sound that soon became a roar like a train rushing past. By now the older boys were watching and listening."

"The boys knew that tornadoes often came to Wichitatina and if they ever saw one they wanted to hop on their bikes and peddle to Dorothy's house so they could catch a ride to Oz. Their mother always said this wouldn't be a good idea and that she would miss them terribly but they assured her time was different in Oz. They could be in Oz years and years and here it would be just long enough to blink your eyes. Their mother was not convinced."

"As it happened, the boys found themselves right in the center of the tornado which had set down from the sky right on their eagle's nest."

Then I told about their ride in the tornado and that the tornado set them down right at the end of the rainbow inside the pot of gold.

"They got to play in the gold as if it were a ballbath just like in the cartoons of Uncle Scrooge's money vat. They knew they could never carry that big heavy pot of gold home. Come to think of it they didn't know how they would get home. After awhile they actually got tired of playing in the gold so they climbed out to have a look around."

"They were in the most beautiful fantastic land they had ever imagined. There were lots of little ponds-- and they were all different. Each pond had a little sign telling what it was for. Some were for drinking water, or for drinking rootbeer, or made of icecream to scoop out and eat. Some were for swimming and some were bubblebaths with water slides. And the trees and bushes and flowers were just as marvelous. They hung with food or toys or flowers."

"There was just one problem. There was no one else around to play with or even to talk to."

Then I told how all the inhabitants of the land were shy of strangers and had hidden and how the boys eventually found them and made friends and about all the adventures they had there--each boy having found a unicorn friend to ride and each unicorn was a different pastel color.

"One night on one of their adventures they found themselves in the center of a forest when they suddenly caught view of a fairy clearing. They hushed to a whisper, not wanting to be discovered or to disturb the fairy festivities. Their stillness paid off when they saw the king leprechaun who unbeknownst to them was their benefactor who had sent the tornado to bring them to the land at the end of the rainbow."

"When one of the unicorns snorted the leprechaun king looked in their direction and they found themselves looking eye to eye. The spell was broken and they must now ride the rainbow home. At dawn's first light they climbed into their swingset Eagle's Nest and faster than they could count to 25 they slid up and over the rainbow back into their own yard and the pot of gold followed them."

"They were glad to be home and when they told their mother of their adventures she suggested they use the gold to make a children's park modeled after the Rainbow-land so other children could take part in the wonder of it all."

Traditions

A friend of mine is giving a workshop on family traditions. She called me for ideas. So, while fixing supper I've been tossing some thoughts about in my mind.

What motivates the creation of a tradition?

Traditions seem to spring up around personal and family values. Our family values discussion of ideas, stories, and family history. My sisters and I created a family newsletter we called The Leafy Alternative. I began a newsletter about raising our family. I call it The Family Messenger. My father introduced his daughters to "Table Topic Dinner Discussions". He would read excerpts from magazine and newspaper articles and ask us questions.

My husband and I began our own version of discussions. They began as "car talks" or "couch talks". These began innocently. While driving home from church we would review behavior -- what was appropriate and what wasn't. My mom would play "practice church" with her girls. So I tried it with our girls. We "practiced" sitting still on the couch for the length of the church service. The girls might have felt like hostages at first. However, they could hear and smell a meal being prepared while they waited and their Dad would visit with them. "What did you talk about in your class today?" This often led to lively and interesting discussions for us all. I would chime in from the kitchen. We credit these "talks" as the beginning of our on-going family conversations and discussions--loved by all!

Families that value music create traditions involving singing or playing instruments. The "instruments" played in my home while growing up were the radio and the record player. We spent many happy hours singing along with Joan Baez and other folk singers.

My absolutely favorite tradition is reading aloud. When I was of college age living at home between semesters I recall reading aloud the Prydain Chronicles by Lloyd Alexander to my two youngest sisters, with whom I temporarily shared a bedroom. Then I would sing a hymn to them before we went to sleep.

Holidays are tradition magnets. At birthdays we always sing, "For she's a jolly good fellow" and give three cheers, "hip-hip-hooray!". I joke that our family tradition is "holiday birthdays".

The Awful Wedded Husband

November 10, 1991 Sunday Jasmine is 6 years old and Margret is 4 years old.

I overheard Jasmine and Margret playing wedding this afternoon. Jasmine must have been the minister. I heard her say, "Do you awful wedding husband take this awful awful wedding wife...". I had to chuckle, thinking that often that description might be a good choice.

I Have to Tell You Something Mom

November 10, 1991 Sunday Margret is about 4 1/2 years old

This afternoon coming home from church I wondered aloud if Margret's enthusiasm for singing were more a burden than a joy. Steve suggested she learn the words. Then Margret said, "I have to tell you something Mom." (That's how she prefaces nearly everything she says to me). "They sing so fast I can't catch up with them." I had to laugh.

Last week I was told she contributed in Junior Sunday School. They were telling the children about Mary and Joseph. Margret piped up, "I know a song about Mary!" Then she sang, "Mary Had a Little Lamb" for the entire Jr. Sunday School congregation.

Little Baby, You Know Why You Were Born

Summer, 1991, Taylorsville cul-de-sac living

Trina is 18 months old. Jasmine is 6 years old.

Shortly before Trina was born I was asked to take over the position of manager of the medium-sized library where I had been working as the children's librarian. Until she was one this required just 30 hours a week of my time. By now I am working full time.

Trina is such a delight these days (as she ever has been). She likes putting on other people's shoes. She's tidy and will try to put things away. She said "purple" yesterday but her first word was "Mama" and then "Laura". I can fix her hair in two curly little pigtails now. She knows her body parts and will point to them on cue. She likes lap and clapping games like "How big is Trina--SO big!" and "How much do we love Trina--SO much!"

Steve and I team-teach course 12 in Sunday School now. We're doing Old Testament stories. I got out my ancient "Old Testament Stories" record album that I listened to with my sisters when we were growing up. There's a song on it that begins, "Moses, Little Moses, Little Baby You Know Why You Were Born" and then proceeds to outline Moses's role in freeing the children of Israel.

Jasmine likes me to sing that as her lullabye. I change the word "Moses" for her name and make up words about her -- whatever comes to mind at the moment. It goes something like this: "Jasmine, Little Jasmine, Little baby, you know why you were born... to make your mom and daddy glad, give some hugs and sing your songs. We're so glad that you are here--you know why you were born!"

Of Ants, Flowerlands, and Toileting Transitions

While watching Jasmine and Margret play at a park during Laura's art class and Trina was sleeping I snuck an opportunity to record some observations. It is the summer of 1991 and we are living in Taylorsville.

Earlier this spring the girls saw an ant in the kitchen. I dread ants in the kitchen so I carried on a bit about it and we all made sure it was executed for crossing over into enemy territory.

(No doubt my aversion to ants in the kitchen stemmed from our first home which was composed of cinderblocks placed on a cement slab. When food fell on the floor it was a mad dash between me, my two toddlers, and the resident ants to see who would get to it first.)

Later that day unbeknownst to me Jasmine got out a green marker and drew a big ant on the outside of the front door and wrote a big sign: NO ANTS. I told her not to do it again since ants can't read but I didn't wash it off til the rain had faded it quite a bit anyway.

Jasmine talks a lot about Flowerland where she claims she was born since her birthday is in May (April showers bring May flowers) and her name is Jasmine (an aromatic flower). She says you have to get there by riding a butterfly and if I want anything she'll bring it for me. Then she started wanting me to call her Flower and she even told her teacher.

Margret, not wanting to be left out, has discovered Roseland.

I have introduced Trina to the toilet this month (she's 18 months old) and she thinks it's a lark. Whenever she needs a diaper change we say "TOILET!" enthusiastically and march upstairs and let her position her step stool and then she sits and we all cheer and clap. On three occasions she has even wet into the toilet. I can't tell if this is intentional on her part or coincidental.

Pretend Trick-or-Treating

June 24, 1991
Monday
Salt Lake City, UT

I've driven across town to take Laura to an art class and while she's there brought Jasmine and Margret to a park. I'm watching them from the car where I sit with the door open feeling the sweet breeze and listening to bird twitters while Trina sleeps in her car seat.

I was thinking last night I ought to write but it was 1 a.m. when I went to bed. I used to keep up on kid quotes and events with a weekly generic letter but haven't done so since before Christmas and probably not since my job became full-time in September.

I spent some enjoyable moments with my girls last evening. (Steve was at work). They decided to play trick-or-treat. They got all dressed up and came pretend knocking at a pretend door at the edge of the kitchen where I was working. I had to ask them who they were for Halloween and then I dropped a handy trinket in their bag.

After three times I thought I'd make it more interesting for me by pretending I was a character in a fairy tale. First I pretended to be the witch in Hansel & Gretel. Laura didn't like this because it deviated from her script. She adjusted the game so SHE answered a door and gave "treats" at the top of the stairs. Jasmine was Sleeping Beauty carrying a doll she called a dwarf. Margret was Dorothy carrying a stuffed dog she called Toto. I gave "treats" downstairs.

I became one of the 3 Pigs--("You're not a wolf are you? I've just had a terrible time with a wolf."). Next I was Rapunzel--("I don't have a door and my granny has cut off my hair so I can't help you up and poked out my eyes so I can't see you but I'll drop you each a hanky I've stitched myself."). I became the ogre's wife from Jack and the Beanstalk--("Don't mind my husband mumbling in his sleep.").

Goldilocks was fun to do--("Look at this house I found with nobody in it and there were 3 bowls of icecream on the table that said 'eat me' and the big bowl was so hard it nearly bent the spoon and the middle-size bowl was like soup--yuk, and the little bowl was perfect so I ate it and then I came in here and sat of this big couch but it was hard and boring so I sat in that big soft chair but that was boring too so I sat in this neat little rocking chair & rockety rocked so hard I pretended it was a rocket blasting off for the moon but instead it just boke to pieces. I was just heading upstairs when you knocked. Wanna come? Oh, by the way, do you know who lives here? 3 Bears! Well, let's go--it's probably just beds upstairs anyway and I'm not tired.").

When I was Old MacDonald Toto the dog said "Bow-wow-wow" and the dwarf said, "Hi, how-are-ya?".

I became Snow White's wicked step-mother--("My what a pretty little girl you are. I hate pretty girls. I want to be the prettiest. Here, take this bright comb and put it in your long flowing hair. Oh my, another pretty little girl. I hate pretty girls. Here, come close. Let me have a close look at you. You remind me a lot of my little step-daughter who I ordered killed by my huntsman. What a dreadful memory seeing you brings to mind. Here, have a bite of this apple."). At this point I instructed Margret, who was Dorothy, to throw some pretend water on me and then I proceeded to squeel and squal and jerk and contrort lengthily as I melted.

What fun we all had.

I checked out a recording of bagpipes because Laura wondered what they sounded like and we all had a jolly time dancing and spinning and marching.

Mind Pictures

I write a letter to each of my children the day they are born or soon after. In the letters I talk about the pregnancy, where their dad and I were employed, and how wonderful it is to have them here. I may talk about how we chose their name, the delivery, and other observations. In my letter to Trina, our 4th little girl, I wrote about her sisters. Here is an exerpt.

November 22, 1989 Taylorsville, UT

Some "mind pictures" I've made in these few weeks of not working while waiting for you are of precious moments with your sisters.

I had worked right up to Trina's due date and then she presented herself eleven days late! My mother and father had come to help, stayed a week, and returned home.

I have a mind picture of Laura making up verses to "Old MacDonald had a Thanksgiving".

I noticed Jasmine and Margret dancing as a couple to nursery tunes on their toy record player.

I caught Margret dancing with her little Raggedy Ann alone in her sunlit bedroom as the radio played softly.

Just before I left the house this morning I woke Laura up. (Jasmine and Margret were already up and dressed and had eaten breakfast). Laura was to go to school at 9:05 for a combined morning and afternoon kindergarten Thanksgiving feast. She put her arms around me and said, "Mom, do me a favor?" I asked what she would like and she said, "Come home safely." What a treasure my girls are.

Of Umbrellas & Pancake Turners, Sandboxes & Showers, A Plugged Toilet, and Abandoned Chewing Gum

A month following the birth of baby girl #3 I traveled to my mother's home for help through this transition from two to three children. My sister Gwen was recently returned from Peace Corps service in Sierra Leon, Africa and her friend Bill was visiting following a world tour. Another sister, Tara, was home from college. My mother had been looking for employment for many months. As soon as I arrived with my three little ones she was offered a job. So here I was, frantically child-proofing a house, cleaning, preparing meals for eight, and thinking, "I thought this was supposed to be a vacation for me!" I would be returning to work 30 hours a week with a 45 minute commute in another month so this time was very precious to me. Of course I enjoyed visiting my family and all hands were on deck to help out.

Let the reader not be alarmed at the rapid arrival of my children. I was thirty years old when I married and all my life had wanted nothing more than to be a wife and mother. I hoped to eventually be a mother to at least six children, as I had happily grown up the oldest of six children.

May 21, 1987 Laura is 3yrs, 2mo. Jasmine will be 2yrs in nine days. Margret is just over 1 month. It is Thursday in Grand Junction, CO.

It's been raining. Laura is parading around the cul-de-sac with an umbrella. Jasmine is tagging along banging two of Mom's pancake turners together. Rain won't stop their parade.

Now Laura has taken the turners to dig in the rocks and Jasmine is trying to make off with the umbrella.

The girls' favorite toy is Mom & Dad's shower. Even over the sandbox (whose charm seems to have completely worn off). They run in and out--banging the door, squeeling, screaming, laughing. WHAT is the attraction? The echo? The small space? The magnetic door?

Jasmine managed to flush my post-partum squeeze bottle dow the toilet (with Laura's help???). Of course it was a Friday night so we had to wait 'til Monday morning to call a plumber. Six extra people in the house (Bill, Gwenda, me, Tara, the girls) all having to march through Mom and Dad's bedroom every time we needed to use their toilet. Cost: $45 to remove it. The plumber said he wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it.

Laura found a rock-hard wad of gum in the neighbor's driveway. She wanted to wash it off and chew it. I persuaded her to "plant" it to see if it would grow a gum tree, bush, or flower instead.

I wonder if I sang her the song, "Kookabura sits in the old gum tree" to help my argument?

Of Strollers and "Shingle Sandwiches" & Sorting Laundry

Laura: April 21, 1986 age 2yrs21days

Mama put me and my sister Jasmine in the stroller built for two and took us on a long walk in the pleasant sunshine. We walked clear to the bank and then to the Pic-N-Save store and looked around. I wanted to ride in a store cart so Mom put me in the cart and Jasmine in the seat and the stroller up on top the cart. I felt like I was in a cage but I didn't mind because Mama gave me things to hold. Most of them we put back. On the way home we passed the library. We stopped so Mama could hold Jasmine who was getting tired and Mama forgot her bottle. I saw my very first street cleaner. It was big and orange and noisy and its brushes made dust. I explored the bushes with all the confidence of the immortals and set off toward home. Mama shouted and caught up with me when I got to the parking lot.

At home Jasmine went right to bed but not me. I would rather be outside than in bed. While Mama planted flowers in front of the house I kept quite busy. I found an old shingle. I put an iris leaf on the shingle and folded the shingle over it. Mom wondered if it was a bed for the leaf or a shingle & leaf sandwich.

Before going to bed I helped Mama fold the laundry. She had already sorted and folded it and was relaxing with a magazine. While she wasn't looking I tried on all the clothes in the basket--even if most of them were Jasmine's. Two dresses, a pinafore, and two pairs of pants--all at once! Mama helped me pull them off. Then she insisted we both go to bed.

August Full Moon & Diaper Dilemma

August 19, 1986 Laura is age 2yrs4mo

Last night there was a hot August full moon. The entire family converged at home at nearly 10 p.m.--Daddy from his work at Loveridge Machine Shop and Mama, me and Jasmine from Great Aunt Coral's house where we were tended while Mama was at work at the Whitmore Library. Jasmine and I had slept all evening so going to bed was out of the question. Mama got the idea to drag the beanbag chairs to the front yard and watch the moon. This especially delighted Jasmine. Daddy had mowed the lawn earlier so there was plenty of fresh cut grass. Alas, the moon had become lost behind a heavy cloud blanket but it still seemed almost as bright as broad day. Jasmine and I ran about the yard and played piggy-back on Daddy. This lasted nearly til midnight, at which time the grownups became party-poops.

So when I woke up at 7:30 this morning how was I to know Jasmine had already been entertaining my parents since 6? I didn't mind when Mama changed Jasmine's stinky diaper but when she came after me it was a different story. My diaper is MY diaper--part and particle to me. There are times when I simply do not want to part with it. Besides, I hadn't had sufficient opportunity to play, frolic, eat, and be hugged before this item of business. I protested. Mama swatted me which we both know never has a positive effect. In the process, Mama splashed some water on my night-shirt. I complained that I was "soaking wet" so Mama took my shirt off. By now I felt invaded, insulted, rejected, and down-right angry. I bawled. Mama gathered me up, gave me my shirt back, and soon all was forgotten.

Not the greatest beginning for a day but matters improved. I spent nearly the whole morning with Daddy. I went with him when he took his car to Midas to be worked on and inspected. He brought me home in the stroller. When we arrived at home I had no intention of coming in 'till he took me around the block at least once.

After lunch Daddy went to work and Jasmine and I put our shoes on so we could go into the yard.

Of Chocolate Chips, Caps, Cushions, and Kitchen Chairs

Monday, April 28, 1986 Laura is age 2yrs28days

I showed Dad where Mom hides the chocolate chips in the refrigerator. Mom wasn't home but my Aunt Natasha saw me spit out at least fifteen chips so I could chew the rest that were in my mouth.

Aside from Mom-- (I hid the chips in a large yogurt container at the back of the bottom shelf of the fridge. Since I was the only one who liked yogurt I figured they were safe there--which was true for several months).

At the Church Breakfast on Saturday morning I found an orange knit cap and a winter coat I wanted to wear. It didn't matter to me that they belonged to Mark Powell and he is a year older and bigger than me. I was willing to fight for them. Dad intervened and Mark got them. Then I wanted to play basketball with the big boys.

Dad stayed home with Jasmine and me on Sunday while Mom taught her lesson and sang in the choir. We both have colds and hoarse voices. Natasha came to tend us at 3:30 so Dad could get to work at the t.v. station. Natasha told Mom that I was upset when she tried to put the couch cushions back on and tidy up. Then Natasha explained to me that we were picking up so the house would look nice for mama. That satisfied me and I quit being upset.

Sunday night after Jasmine was in bed I practiced my mothering skills on a kitchen chair. I had it turned over on its back in the living room. I powdered it and I put my kitty-tennis shoes on its legs and gently kissed each shoe.

This morning my mom found me exercising with the television aerobics show.

From Baby to Bride

Is it time to relenquish my child's baby book now that she is married?

I pulled the book out to turn it over to her and thumbed through the pages for the first time in years. There are so many treasures inside! Thank goodness for scanners and digital scrapbooking. (My program of choice is the Creative Memories "Memory Manager" and "Storybook Maker"). I am going to make myself a book and give her the original (maybe by Christmas?).

Visit my Creative Memories Consultant site at www.mycmsite.com/sites/vivianm

By far my favorite parts of the book are the journal entries I made "for" her and her drawings which I had labeled at the time. When my scanner is cooperating with my computer I will scan these in. I actually used a typewriter in those days!