Come Take Care of Me I'm Sick.

I got hit by the flu in a major way starting last Friday night. Today is Wednesday, and I'm barely coming back to myself. I've been a mere shell of a person, descending more and more into a Shrek-and-Ursula-had-a-baby state with every raggedy breath I can muster. Dan can barely look at me, and when he does I can hear him praying under his breath. My coughing fits leave me in tears from being unable to breathe and cause the ears of all around to bleed. 

I am the Swamp Witch; hear me roar. Or wheeze.

June made these signs for me.

The door to my bedroom. I say "my" because Dan jumped ship. He decided he didn't want to share a bed with Heather's Nose Tornado.

And at the foot of my bed;

And this just lists my physical conditions, to say nothing of my mental state. 

We've managed to get math, reading lessons, and music practicing done. All of the other things will have to wait until the next life.

June has used the extra free time to write her own newspaper. She and Gwen started a publishing company called Pup-lishers (every little thing is about that ding dang dog!), and they hope to sell their works at a garage sale we are supposedly having sometime.

Many moons ago, before I got sick, I completed the Crossfit 24.1 Open Workout. It was quite horrible. And by completed, I mean the time ran out when I still had four burpees left. That's good enough for ol' me.

The End.

I'm Right, and That's All That Matters.

I took a chance and bought the girls a big gift for Christmas that I wasn't positive that they would love. A sewing machine. They loooooooooove crafting, but have only used a sewing machine with Grandma Kristi once when we visited her in Vegas. I am terrible at crafts and felt like I was making a huge sacrifice in buying them a sewing machine because I knew it would mean I would have to educate myself on it and that it would be painful for my non-crafty brain to take on.

Christmas morning, it seemed like the boys were receiving more presents than the girls . . . because they were. Gwen's face was growing more concerned with each present opening because Gwen is quite aware of all things fair and equal. I finally pulled out a large present for her and June to unwrap together, and Gwen exclaimed, "Oh good! This is going to be a huge LEGO set!" It wasn't. It was the sewing machine, and she cried because she was so disappointed.

I told my girls, "Look, I am happy to take this back and buy you LEGOs or give you money or something else. I didn't buy this because I was dying for you to have it but rather because I thought you would really enjoy it." And honestly, I would have been relieved to take it back because no sewing machine=less work for me. But in the end, they decided to have a good friend over to show them a few things and to see if they liked it.

And they loved it and have been sewing non-stop ever since.

Gwen made a bunch of little pillows to give as Valentine's gifts for a party we went to.

Bingo at said party:

The girls and I continue to see plays as often as we can. This weekend, we saw the musical version of Tuck Everlasting at Lancaster Bible College.

Right before we left, Gwen confessed, "Mom, I know you wanted me to look nice for the play, but I just got this stain on it." "What's it from?" I asked. "Well, I thought there was a piece of chocolate candy on the floor in my room, so I put it in my mouth. But it was dirt, so I spit it out, and it landed on my sleeve."

Well, okay then. Happens to the best of us.

The End.

Fan of Jan.

I don't love winter, but I do love new beginnings. 

We went to the Farm Show for the third year in a row! 

I have never considered myself to be a country girl, but living in Central PA has changed me. I wish we had more acreage and some small animals, which is completely illogical since we have a hard time keeping up with our current small yard and kids and one dog.

The rule of the Farm Show is that I don't buy anything for my kids except the famous Farm Show milkshakes. And like any true martyr of a mother anywhere, I don't buy myself one but instead finish everyone else's.

There were several things the kids enjoyed but the winner for this year was the stand dedicated to beekeeping. Dan and I have been in serious beekeeping talks. 

This, my friends, is a terrible picture of a complex sculpture made completely of butter. Harris made us stay while he repeatedly watched the video of how it was made in 14 days. Harris has some Grandpa Doug in him.

June advanced to Young Women's this year. Dan and I took her to the temple for her time time to do baptisms for the dead. It was a great day. 

This picture could also double as June's mug shot.

Nephi visited primary today!

The Jolley kids before church. You can slightly see June's swollen face that took us to the ER until midnight Thursday. She has a skin infection. She handled it just fine because Ghostbusters 2 was playing in her room at the hospital. I handled it well because even though I was nervous about what it was, I was still able to tap into my super power of being able to sleep anywhere, including a hard chair in the corner of a ER room. Do wonders never cease. She's on two medications, and getting her to take them is going to cause me to also need medication.

The End.

Christmas Letter 2023

 

December 1, 2023

 

To those who like Neil Diamond and those who don’t (but really, what is wrong with you?!),

 

I am writing this year’s newsletter from my sick bed, recovering from a minor oral surgery because I’ve always been mature for my age and my 39-year old body decided to jump on the your-body-starts-falling-apart-at-40 train a year early. There are two kids near me, each practicing a different musical instrument At. The. Same. Time. (#selfcare). And while I love “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” on the piano alongside one of Bach’s minuets on the violin as much as the next middle-aged, minivan-driving mom, I was also hoping that this letter wouldn’t fully reflect the totally chaotic (but often very fun) household we’ve somehow created.  I just wanted to pretend for all of you beautiful people. But alas, here we go.

June turned 11 this year and is still obsessed with animals and books. She is thoughtful and kind and loves to make presents for people. She also definitely does her own thing at all times, as could be evidenced a couple of weeks ago when we thought she was reading a book in her room (usually a correct assumption) but really she was outside in a rainstorm cutting down our bushes because “they didn’t look right”. She keeps life exciting.

I ask Gwen (9) to help too much. I know it, and she knows it. I should get $20 cash back from every store purchase I make and put it into Gwen's future therapy fund. One day, feeling especially unable to keep up with the tasks at hand, I looked over at Gwen who was at the table eating a snack. "Mom," she said, and held up her hand and started to sign some letters to me in ASL. The first letter--I--was followed by L, O, V, and then E. I knew where this was going, and I was here for it. This mom could use some affirmations. My heart swelled and I thought, "Thank you, Gwen, for loving me despite my shortcomings." She continued to sign each letter to me "C-A-R-R-O-T-S." I Love Carrots. She pointed to her snack plate, where the pile of carrots she was consuming was dwindling. Sigh. Can I blame her? Carrots are consistent, way more dependable than her mom. But I suspect that she loves me too.

Six-year-old Harris is our resident engineer. He loves changing lightbulbs, repairing things, and charging all electronics in need. Like me, he has a guilty conscience and is always asking me which words we are and aren’t allowed to say. Today’s word was “pelvis”. He is reading, mathing, pianoing, wrestling, and biking but only when he is specifically not asked to do any of those things. Why are all my kids so stubborn? It must come from Dan’s side. I am so chill and hardly have an opinion on anything. One thing Harris is definitely not doing is cleaning--which he abhors--but he is always up for cooking, which I’ll take.

Beck, as our resident youngest child, never had the opportunity to go through the jealous-of-the-new-baby phase. But he has been able to go through the jealous-of-the-new-dog phase. He dropped our new dog down 2 flights of stairs “to see what would happen”.  A budding scientist, you might say. He is affectionately known as “Cheeks” at our homeschool co-op because his little hips can’t hold any size of pants up. He also wants to know all the words we don’t say, but he wants to YELL them in public. He is active all the time, and when asked to write his own part for the children’s program at church, he ended the prompt “I show my parents love” with “by going to bed.” True words.

So yes, we finally gave in/caved/surrendered to the kids and bought a dog. Gilbert Blythe Jolley is a sweet and tiny terrier mix who I was dead set against from the very beginning, but now I love. Mostly because I’m his favorite, so I recognize that he must be a genius. I also relate to his inability to completely empty his bladder. We are currently healing together, me from a gum graft and him from being neutered (He thinks he’s a regular Don Juan with the neighborhood lady dogs.) We are misunderstood, Gil and I, but we are misunderstood together.

Dan finally achieved his lifelong ambition of (being married to me? Fatherhood? A 30-year mortgage? Nope!) boat ownership, and he is thrilled. We named her The Jolley Roger, and she fits right into our small group of possessions because she is super old and always has a broken part. She is “the minivan of the seas” among lots of edgy and cool jet skiers, whom I have hollered at more than once to slow the heck down. Our marriage has been tested at the boat launch many times, but now I know my place. Second place, behind TJR. I’m pretty sure if we had a house fire, the first thing Dan would do is drive 45 minutes to our boat to make sure she was okay.

And then there’s me. It was poolside with girlfriends this summer that I discovered that I am old. These girlfriends are a decade younger than I, and I couldn’t follow the conversation to save my life. I’m not cool or hip, except if “broken hip” counts. But I love my life. We are grateful for you, our wonderful friends. Above all, this Christmas season we are so grateful for our Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave His life for us. May your season be filled with family, friends, and Him.

 

                                                          Love,

 

The Jolleys

I Wish Summer Would Never End.

I know everyone at this time of year is so excited for fall. Not me. Fall is fine, fall is fun, but summer forever. Especially when you live somewhere where summer seems rather short.

We have swum (isn't any occasion to use "swum" the best?) and boated and partied all summer long. We have eaten more watermelon and corn on the cob than I can describe. We have even taken our corn to a new level with elote. Dan has smoked steaks and roasts and butts (ha!) on his new smoker. 

Our neighbors are some of the best gardeners on the planet. They went out of town for a month and asked us to harvest their garden. It was amazing. I made one zillion zucchini chocolate chip muffins. Dan learned to make Zuppa Toscana. I learned how to cook beets. We had a pretty successful garden as well. We've eaten like kings.

Part of our garden:

Bounty from Lee and Earl's garden:

Lee and Earl's amazing garden:

As always, we crashed other churches' Vacation Bible Camps. Three this year.

This dark photo is June accepting an award for memorizing the required verses at one of the camps.

We hiked into Saint Peter's Village to use the rope swing and go down the rock slides.

First you must climb over all of these rocks.

Swimming, Tarzan-style!

Rock slide:

Gwen's birthday was in July. It was on the same day as a summer party I scheduled for one of our co-ops. I didn't even realize that it was on Gwen's birthday until two days before. 

Picking out which donut she wanted for her birthday breakfast.

New shirt from Grandma Sandy, plus some spending money.

Charm bracelet from Grandma Kristi:

Summer party that day. It was her friend Dora's birthday as well so we moms were able to pretend that this party was for them. Except it wasn't. 

I convinced a bunch of moms to launch a sneak attack on all of the kids with some water balloons. When they retaliated, I picked up someone's baby, hoping that kids wouldn't throw water balloons at a woman with a baby. But they did.

Lots of swimming and boating, but not lots of photos of either. The kids all love tubing, and the girls love knee boarding. I have finally gotten up on skis, but haven't stayed up long enough to count it. We are going again a couple more times before it's too cold, and I'm really hoping I can accomplish this goal before we put the boat away for the winter.

We attended a class one evening all about fireflies. 

The girls and I attended a performance by BYU-Idaho's Dance Alliance team.

June started wearing reading glasses:

The kids have loved on Gilbert. They love him TO DEATH. Like he might die of being annoyed by them. We have had many talks about how no one likes being chased down and poked constantly. To no avail.

We have been able to attend the temple a lot this summer. Two times on our vacation to Utah, and three times since coming home. I took my friend Cathyjo through for her first time. Her son was home from his mission to have surgery and was able to see his mother go through the temple. He was so sad to have to come home from his mission for a couple of months, but we now all see how it was the Lord's timing.

Dan and I attended the temple twice together this month. That is a very rare occurrence. Our ward offered free childcare at the church building across the street one of the times, which was a huge blessing for us.

This is why I love summer. This particular summer we decided not to do any sports and hardly any camps so that we could swim and go to the temple and boat. It was awesome. 

Today we had our Back to School Feast, and tonight Dan will give the kids and me blessings for our new school year. Technically, we started doing a few things at the beginning of August, namely math, handwriting, music, and some reading. But this week and next our co-ops will resume, and we will be full-fledged schooling for the next several months. I know it's time but in my heart I'll be thinking about swimming.

The End.