Photo Flop

Anyone who enjoys taking family photos has not had children. Believe me, there is no such thing as a pleasant group portrait session. Don’t get me wrong. I love looking at beautiful pictures, especially on Facebook. Smiling faces and cute poses that make us all wish we belonged to that particular, totally organized, having-fun-around-the-clock family.

But no one posts the in between photos. The crazy before and after shots as the family is gathering, the final attempts when everyone is tired and the little kids are pinching each other, the dozens of pictures when someone’s eyes are closed or someone’s tongue is out. Nope. Family photos are an experience in and of themselves.

I generally only share pictures that show our family displaying a serene lifestyle where we love each other 24-7. But last week we had a photo experience too classic not to share.

Just Japan

I just spent two weeks in the land of the rising sun. And the sun rose every morning, big and red, just like the circle on the Japanese flag portrays. My experience there was unforgettable, and I want to paint a portrait of this singular nation.

There is something profound about an archipelago country — a cluster of islands — surrounded by oceans and seas on every side, where the people and their civilization are unique and untainted by outside influences.

I love their soft, graceful culture. Geijins (foreigners) like myself stood out like a sore thumb. But it wasn’t just our origin. I stood out because I wasn’t carrying an umbrella to protect myself from the sun. I stood out because I wasn’t dressed up in business casual (even to shop at the local market). I stood out because I didn’t eat my food daintily with chopsticks. And, even though I am small in America, I towered over many of them.

Endless Entropy

 My house is a science experiment. Actually, there’s no experiment. Our family life has already proved the theory of entropy. No more theory. It’s law. Chaos is inevitable — especially when Mom needs a break.

The Reading Race

I love books. From my earliest memories I recall snuggling next to my mother while she read from “Charlotte’s Web,” “Little House on the Prairie” and “Pippi Longstocking.” My older sister and I became friends with Sue Barton, Nancy Drew and the Boxcar Children. Our winter evenings were rich with family reading times, and our lazy summer days were filled with library trips and stacks of books all around us. My favorite pastime is still curling up with a good story. However, too much of anything can be, well, too much!

Sisters and Sun

I went on a getaway with my sisters last month: that’s six sisters leaving 32 children and six supportive husbands to spend time together in sun country during the grey winter weeks. Since all of us are busy moms, we set the date months ahead of time and bought plane tickets. The flights to Phoenix were relatively cheap, and we pictured ourselves basking by the pool in the lovely warmth, miles from our usual snowy abodes.

Moms and Magic

Nobody comprehends what takes place in a mother’s day. But I’m here to tell you, it’s unbelievable — like magic. I remembered this fact after I survived yesterday — a day my husband was out of town.

I woke up at 6 a.m. There wasn’t a minute to lounge in bed because it was time to start breakfast, rouse the kids and get our morning moving. By 6:45, I had cooked eggs and toast, mixed juice and was packing lunches. (This was in between getting nine kids out of bed, reminding one to switch her laundry, putting a Band-Aid on a stubbed leg [how does that happen?] and resolving conflicts over which shirt was “cold-weather” appropriate.) By 6:55, I had sent my first batch of students out the door.

Choosing Children

I have a lot of children. More than normal, to be exact. (I assume that makes me abnormal, but hopefully in a good way.) Despite my large posterity, I’ve recently had some new insights about the value of children. Ideas I likely should have understood earlier, but nonetheless, just occurred to me. Call me a slow learner…

Of course, bearing and raising children is a highly personal choice, made by each soul (or souls) in their own sphere. Without standing on a soapbox, or attempting to push my life philosophies on anyone else, I want to share three significant things I’ve recently concluded – principles I have learned from choosing children.

Christmas Changes

During December of this year we read “A Christmas Carol,” for our early-morning family scripture study. Don’t worry, we’re not apostatizing. We continued to study from the Bible; but my husband also wanted to share Dickens’ touching tale with our children.

I loved hearing the story as I made breakfast each day. The old English terms and phrases were delightful and filled with humor and meaning. In fact, as Dickens wished in his original preface, the tale haunted our house “pleasantly” during the month.