We live somewhere else now.

We moved to Kansas City a month ago. I have very mixed feelings about this. My childhood causes me to have major Kansas City pride, and yet I also have a lot of pride that I left home and never came back.

Except now I am back. The good--fun visiting my old haunts and pointing out nostalgic places to my kids. Seeing old friends and picking up where we left off.  We live in the most convenient corner of KC in the world--right next to Target, Walmart, Aldi, Sam's, AND the temple. I live 10 minutes from the temple!  Me!!

The bad--it is 938247293 degrees with 2893423984 percent humidity every day. So much has changed that I really don't know as many people as I thought I would. I really miss Pennsylvania a lot. We had a great setup there with wonderful friends.

Shortly after we arrived here, June went to FSY knowing ZERO people and being one of the only teenagers left on the planet without a phone. But she had a marvelous time and grew her testimony.

Right after she got back, we left for a family reunion in Colorado. We left at 5:30 AM with the goal of arriving at 3, but then our car broke down TWICE, and we needed to get a new alternator. So we didn't roll in until after 8 PM. We were supposed to take our big family pictures that night, but our family ruined that. Side note: Heidi's flight also was canceled the day before and Steve's car broke down 20 miles outside of Granby. It looked as though the reunion would be cursed, but we all made it eventually (our family was the last).

If you haven't stopped for gas in Wilson, Kansas, you haven't really lived.

One of the places we broke down was right outside this farm supply company. It was actually kinda perfect because the owner is a huge hunter and while Dan and the guys looked at the car, the kids and I looked at his stuffed animals. I mean taxidermized animals. You know, the animals he KILLED.

And the office had a dog. So there's that.

At the reunion, we had fun whitewater rafting, swimming, bowling, eating, and hiking. Okay, not so much fun hiking because it was hot. 

My brother Mark and his wife Shayla went to town making up a Jeopardy game about our Beck family childhood. I don't want to brag, but I did very well.

And we finally did have time for a family photo session. What can I say--Becks really take good care of themselves.

Since coming back, we have gone to the neighborhood pool A LOT. One day, Harris passed out there from heat exhaustion, and it was a day that we decided to walk so some nice random lady had to take us home. We also go to the neighborhood library a bunch. It is an excellent library!

We received free tickets to the zoo. The Kansas City Zoo was a PIT when I was a kid, but it's very nice now.

You might detect from this photo that Harris was unhappy, and you would be correct. I ended up dragging his tantrummy body out of the zoo right after this was taken.

Our amazing stake also had a huge Pioneer Day celebration, complete with crafts, butter churning, prairie diamond rings, costumes and photos, and square dancing. I ended up dancing with my new stake president for half a second, and I was extremely awkward and just stared at the ground the whole time. In some ways, I am still a beehive.

The only pic I have of the occasion is this pic of me with my bff Linz's co-worker, who I have been trying to run into ever since moving back.

 

Do I look like I was melting? Because that would be accurate. It was in the 90s, outside, and as muggy as could be. 

The End.

Let's Do This.

I am currently sitting at June's play practice and golldarnit, I am going to write something on this blog. I won't attempt to update you on all of the things from the past 18 months. But here are some things.

1. We still homeschool, and thus we go on lots of field trips. 

We went to the Fishwrapper printing press in January. If you don't know what the Fishwrapper is, have you been living under a rock? Or maybe you just don't live in Amish Country. It's a free paper at all of the grocery stores in Central PA, and it's full of super clean Christian "dad" jokes and advertisements. 

After absolutely tonzzz of complaining about not wanting to go to a "boring printing press", Harris saw some machines at work and was so happy. I know this boy will be an engineer, even if I do not know what being an engineer means.

The only person in our family to get in trouble at the printing press was me, shockingly. Normally I have to get after the boys a whole bunch but this time, I started to dancing to the beat of various printing and folding machines, and a nice Mennonite asked me to stop. I am going to tell myself that's because they don't believe in dancing, not that my actual talent was lacking.

Grandma Sandy was in town so we took her on our annual field trip to the farm show. We just barely missed a calf being born this year, but we did get to see the afterbirth. And then we ate milkshakes. Yum!

We also went to the car museum, which Harris needed NO convincing to attend but then did, in fact, end up being very boring. The irony.

2. Personal Events.

Beck wrestled at his first tournament and took 3rd place. I was beyond thrilled. Wrestling is the weirdest sport in the world. Every tournament I enter, I start out judging all of the crazy, screaming parents. And then my own kid is in there, and it's personal, and I'm screaming more than anyone. Beck enjoyed it. He is our kid that enjoys pain. Our newest game at home is he attacks me from behind with a pillow, I snatch the pillow and give him a five second head start before I throw the pillow at him as hard as I can. If I aim well, it takes him down to the ground. And then he laughs and asks me to do it again. He was definitely born to wrestle.

Gwen was a Star-Bellied Sneetch AND Thing #2 in a Jr. adaptation of Seussical.

Grandma Sandy was in town for both of these events, and it was so special. 

Beck refused to be in this picture, and Gwen was crying about something. Sounds like just another Sunday.

Miscellany:

We have been taking a lot of trips to the Lancaster Science Factory while June has been in play practice for Peter Pan.

We had fondue, which should really be called FUNdo! for Valentine's Day.

Gwen went to the temple for the first time in January. We have two girls in Young Women's!

Our three violinists played in a special Colonial Ball for a nursing home in January. There was much fighting about the outfits from the boys. I would love to say that after all was said and done, they were glad they dressed up and went and served the nursing home residents. But they weren't.

The girls made baskets in one of their 4-H classes. 

Which was just a day after we had gone on this field trip to a mansion made in a Medieval design.

It was this week, in the midst of field trips to castles and basket weaving that Dan asked me if we ever learn anything useful in our homeschool. And I had to say no.

The End.

Christmas Letter 2025

 

To All of the People Who Still Appreciate Heather Intelligence over Artificial Intelligence--

Greetings from the Commonwealth, more specifically the Jolley household (where wealth is somewhat less common). We’ve survived another year, but more importantly, our neighborhood has survived another year of us.

While I am happy to report that no bike-riding kids were hit by moving vehicles this year, I am less pleased to announce that both of our boys—Harris (8) and Beck (6) hit the same across-the-street neighbor’s parked car while riding their bikes this year. It’s probably time to move. Our boys are rough-housers to the max, and I’ve been both amazed and horrified to see how any innocent object can be turned into a weapon. They can start out playing a violin duet, and three minutes later violins have turned to violence as the boys duel with their bows or chase each other and break a violin into two pieces. Yes, this actually happened.

In other news, Harris chose to be baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, which was a wonderful day. Beck chose to bite a kid (on the BUM!) at wrestling practice and was dismissed for the day. Let me tell you—you haven’t lived until you have represented the accused (and frankly, guilty) bum biter in a discussion with the parent of the bum bitee.  Time to move far, far away.

Harris passed the “Worst Accident of the Year” baton to Gwen (11), who fell off a seesaw at a playground a few weeks ago, resulting in a bone poking out the back of her arm. I verified on Web MD, and bones aren’t supposed to do that. She has been sporting a cast bigger than you’ve ever seen and can only wear her dad’s shirts every day. Poor Gwen has missed out on many of her favorite things these past few weeks, especially playing her instruments, dancing, and going to the bathroom independently.

Speaking of independence, June (13) would move out tonight if she could. She continues to read most of the time and agrees with her parents none of the time. She likes all of us okay and is a huge help around the house, but we all know where we rank with her—far, far below our dog, Gilbert. She has sewn Gilbert his own clothes, and she produces a Christmas card from him to our neighborhood dogs every year. She is kindly biding her time with us until she can become a marine biologist and say goodbye to our landlocked situation forever.

Dan has been traveling a lot for work, and then he comes home to tell me how exhausting it is to stay in hotels and get taken to nice dinners and drive in non-goldfish crackery cars. He misses the crunch sound I guess. He works a lot, but he still somehow manages to do a lot of the cooking and cleaning and provide almost alllll of the fun that happens at our house because he possesses the talent of being able to stay awake during an entire movie, something I have yet to do. Dan’s handyman skills continue to grow around the house, except for the one time he was convinced that the oven was broken beyond repair and replaced it, only to find out the breaker just needed to be flipped. Dan and I have devolved into the kind of parents that we always swore we would never become. But those promises were fraudulent because we were young and shiny new parents, whereas now we have been beaten by the children. If you happen by our house, you may hear Dan respond to fights with such thoughtful wisdom as “well, kick him back!” I have even been known to say, “He called you a jerk? Well, were you being a jerk?” I’ll keep you posted on when you can pre-order our parenting book.

And then there’s me. Apparently, I am embarrassing. My jokes are bad, and my dancing is even worse. If I so much as sway a hip toward a kid in a hallway, they gawk in horror and exclaim how terribly unfunny I am. Fortunately, I had many years of sporting a bowl cut in middle school to prepare me for this amount of rejection, so I am unmoved. You can only imagine how the kids felt about my hitting a pole in an otherwise totally empty parking lot before a recital (The sun was in my eyes AND kids were talking to me! My brain does not multi-task!), only to show up at the next recital with my price tag hanging out of my brand-new pants. In other achievements, I have a new pair of pants! Also, I have been doing CrossFit for two years and can now do . . . a muscle up? No. A pull-up? Heck no. Oh that’s right, a pushup. One good, on-my-toes pushup. I have gained more friends than muscles there but I’m trying.

Thank you for being our friends. May you have a wonderful Christmas remembering the birth of our Savior.

The Jolleys

 

Christmas Letter 2024

 

November 15, 2024

To those of you who still talk to us during an election year:

Hello again from the Jolley crew! Current status is that I’m sick in bed (wasn’t I sick when I wrote this last year? Am I a hypochondriac?), and Dan is bribing kids with trips to the park and library if they clean up the toy room. He would have an easier time motivating a group of sloths to compete in an Ironman. But here we go—

Beck “Herdman” Jolley (5) is the cuddliest, sweetest little maniac that ever menaced through society. He loves to tell me he loves me and that I’m beautiful but also calls me other words when he is put into timeout. He could make politicians jealous with his smooth attempts to get out of punishments on technicalities, such as “Yes, I put my teeth on his arm but I didn’t bite down” and “But Mom, it was a light punch.” He loves waiting for me to turn a corner so that he can resume whatever activity I have just banned. I just hope he takes care of me when he’s in the Mafia.

Harris (7) takes the prize for “Most Dramatic Event” this year for getting hit by a car while riding his bike in front of our house last March. Dan and I get the prize for “Worst First Responders Ever” for our top-notch reactions to this same event. Dan is an Eagle Scout (with a Palm!), and I don’t know where we keep the band-aids; thus with these powers combined, we decided to move the patient (don’t do that!), forgot that there is this hotline you can call in case of emergencies (9-1-1), and drove Harris to an urgent care where the doctor on duty called the aforementioned hotline and had Harris taken to the ER by ambulance. Now that it’s over it seems all DUH and whatnot, but I’m telling you at that moment, it might not occur to you to take your lacerated-by-moving-vehicle-son to the hospital. Okay, it probably would but we are not your average parents. We are far below that.

Gwen (10) is the attentive mother my kids never had. She loves to plan an activity, she always remembers where we parked the car, and she’s great at eavesdropping.  It was only two short years ago that Dan ran down the stairs in a panic because he heard screaming coming from the music room only to find that said screams were actually the screechy bowings of our budding Gwen on her violin. It has been great to see her progress this year as she works her way through Suzuki Book 3 and has performed many solos in church. She has also learned how to sew a quilt, continues to take dance classes, and calls out our unrighteous behavior on the reg.

June (12) is a budding scientist, playwright, and preteenager.  However, June’s winningest moment was when she showed great resilience after being left at an ice cream shop for 45 minutes (that had closed 30 minutes before). TO BE FAIR TO ME, June had been mad at me at said ice cream shop and when she didn’t answer any of my questions on the ride home, I figured it was because my tween was giving me the silent treatment.  And it’s not like I can just crane my neck around to check on everyone’s attendance in the van because that makes me carsick. It was only when stopping for gas 20ish minutes after leaving the creamery that Gwen asked, “Where is June?” that I turned around to see an empty chair. In an empty van. Where my June would sing no more. Until 25 minutes later when we picked her up. And then still no singing, just screaming.

Hershey laid off 300 people this October, and unfortunately, Dan was one of them. However, he started working for Russell Stover in November, and he loves it. Heaven forbid we ever work for a broccoli or carrot company, but that wouldn’t really fit with our lifestyle either. He is traveling to and from Kansas City periodically, and we may have a move on the horizon, but we aren’t sure! Just in case, please allow me to dust off my letterman’s jacket to wear around town when I return. Legends never die, friends.

Thanks for being our friends through the many ups and downs of our year. We are grateful for the one sure thing in our lives, and that is the Savior, Jesus Christ.

Merry Christmas!

The Jolleys

Denmark + Grandma > Mom

Dan and I went to Denmark. Just the two of us. Those kids who keep following us around and racking up our grocery bill and leaving all of the doors open and all of the hot air inside and who can never find a single shoe were not allowed to come. We broke away like bandits, and we almost never came back. 

Aside from one 48-hour trip, we have never left our kids. And this was for a full week. Grandma Sandy came because she is brave and strong and too nice for her own good.

Some of the things we saw:

The Denmark Copenhagen Temple. It. Was. Closed. The whole time we were there. I was devastated. Dan and I both have ancestors from Denmark and how cool would it have been to do temple work in the land of our ancestors. But alas, it wasn't meant to be. 

We stumbled across Kierkegaard's grave, totally by accident.

We biked an hour to find one of the Forgotten Giants on the outskirts of Copenhagen. 

I'm sure you think the Giant is amazing, but the part of that sentence that should have really shocked you is that we biked for an hour. Everyone bikes in Copenhagen, and it was scary! So many bikes AND so many cars. Dan rode a bike on his mission, so he was fine. I wanted to ding my bell the entire time I was riding--HERE I AM COME GET OUT OF MY WAY I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING! I fell once and knocked over a construction barrier. Dan was way ahead of me and heard the crash and tried to come back to help me, but a nice Danish man got to me first and kept asking if I were okay. 

Dan reassured me that "everyone falls when riding a bike--everyone!!" I wanted to believe him. And then I felt better when I saw another woman fall later that day. But then she started speaking--and she was an American too. Danes do not fall. I saw a woman scrolling through her Insta while riding through a busy intersection like it was nothing. It was amazing.

We met up with a Danish elder who served in Romania, and we had such a grand time catching up. He took us to the Vor Frue chapel where the original Thorvaldsen Christus statue is. Also at this chapel are statues of the 12 apostles, including Peter holding the keys to the priesthood. If you want to read a cool story about this statue, go HERE.

We went to castles and cathedrals. We learned a lot about Christian IV, whose statue Dan poses with below. Dan doesn't understand my desire to travel. Then I get him to finally go, and he won't stop learning and asking questions the whole time. The man loves history. The man loves bugging tour guides. 

At Roskilde Cathedral, where all of the Danish royals are buried.

Cronus eating one of his babies. Dan is grossed out that he didn't at least use some ketchup. Dan loves ketchup.

The Viking Museum. I felt a leeetle bad that the kids and I studied Vikings this year, and they were way more into it than I was, and then I was able to go to the Viking Museum and see actual Viking ships, and the kids didn't. But not really that bad. Neener, neener kiddos!

We are on top of Kronberg, or castle setting of Shakespeare's Hamlet.

Look at this close-up. I am a Far Side character.

We ate lots, slept lots, walked lots, biked lots (perhaps too much, in my opinion), and talked lots. It was so nice to be with my husband and to just have fun. No budget talks, no disciplining children, no alarms. 

Meanwhile, my mom had her full share of kids and fighting to deal with, and she handled it in her saintly way. When we arrived back home, I asked Gwen how the boys were while we were gone. She gave me a thumbs-down, which is how I figured it would be. Poor Grandma Sandy!

The kids had the time of their lives. Ice cream outings every day! Trips to the park and library! Movies with Grandma. They didn't miss us one bit and barely looked up at us when we got back. However, when Grandma Sandy left the next day, there were major tears. And when they were reunited with Gilbert (who had been staying with a friend), they were so excited. Dan and I know where we stand. 

Pics from time with Grandma Sandy:

When we got back, Harris asked me the very serious question-

"Mom, why are grandmas so much more fun than moms?"

I know, Harris, I know.

Other stuff:

Gwen had her big recital a couple of days ago, and she did well! No more practicing "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang!" Hurray!

She received two awards--one for practicing 200 consecutive days and one for passing off a Suzuki book within a year.

Nerds Unite!

By the way, when we got back to the Newark airport, there was our car with a flat tire. We get more flat tires than anyone I know. We met over a flat tire. I tell myself that it is heaven's way of reminding us our sweet meeting. Why couldn't we have met over something like tons of money or on a plane to Hawaii or in a chocolate store?

The End.