Quincy gets straight A’s!

This is the face of a girl who is seeing the fruits of her labors. She has maintained “A” Honor Roll status all year, and received an achievement award in technology. She is really enjoying art and her pre-ap science class. Keep up the hard work, Suggie Bear!  

Paper

I look tired and a bit psychotic here because I definitely was both.  You would be too if you had the daunting task of handling every single paper in your home. Some are burned to a ruffled stack of brittle charred layers, like a pile of overcooked pillsburry flaky layer biscuits. 

Others only have blackened edges. 

All of them stink so bad that just bringing imone bin indoors made my moms entire house smell like she had the oven self cleaning feature on. 

We found trash bags with our bank routing numbers, as cards, kids birth certificates, 20 years of paycheck stubs, medical documents, old checks and new blank checks all piled up next to the dumpster. Like it’s no problem to just bag and discard these things in a trash bin, vs properly destroying them via shredder or burn bin.  So boss Lady is trying to make a dent in the piles and sort out things to photo copy, things to reorder, and things to take a digital photo of to upload to the blog later. I am wrapped in a towel because everything leaves a thick trail of black on it.  After 5 hours of sorting, I don’t feel like I made enough progress to call it “success” but it’s a start.  And now I’m just avoiding what I should be working on (the contents claim) by catching up on blog posts instead. 

Pack Meeting

My best effort to not make any effort in scouting really showed when I did not replace Corbin’s scout shirt. First the email that if the boys want to participate in the flag/color ceremony, they need to be in their scout uniform. 

And then Corbin’s faithful den leader showed up with shirts for Corbin and two other boys on Sunday.

 My thoughts: how nice! This guy is really on top of things. 

Corbin’s thoughts: my Cub Scout leader loves me and looks after my needs. 

He felt so valued and that just makes my mother heart swell up so big that it smothers the cold dead non-scout-enthusiastic heart right out. 

I love that Corbin loves scouts. I know the program has great value.  What I really love is the belonging and friendship that Corbin feels when he is at den meetings. 

Since Aaron serves as a Weblos leader on Tuesdays, I have been the one to stay home with littles and missed the whole “mom pin” thing. Last night, Corbin was given a big batch of  patches and belt slides to replace the ones that he has previously earned but lost in the fire.  I’m telling you, his leaders are super thoughtful! 










I sort of wanted to run though when they pulled out 4 dozen eggs and announced we would be playing a cub trivia version of Jimmy Fallon’s egg roulette! I was “voluntold” by bro Hanberg and ended up being the only mom who did it. Once I saw they had ponchos it was no big deal, and everyone had great fun. Corbin was pleased to watch me lose in an egg showdown with Sully S.  

I felt like a cheater because I could tell which ones were hard boiled by looking at them, so I let Sully pick out my eggs for me. He chose wisely! 




Corbin, I hope the face on this “fun mom” reminds you to never doubt my love for you! I’ll smash a raw egg on my head for you! Haha!  

Mother love runs deep. 

Great work, Corbin! And yes, I will enthusiastically go buy you a scout belt. You’re going to need it for all those adventure awards you’ve earned. 

Rise Up

Good morning, Arkansas! 

I miss my gorgeous winter sunset view out my living room back window.  But I got to see this pretty sight on my way back from taking the boys to school one morning. Driving them to Cooper is a total pain. Not because it’s “so far” because it’s seriously not. But taking them to and from school does sort of cancel out the benefits of living so close to Reese and Quincy’s schools.  It’s the same direction both ways and I’m still making a lot of trips back at forth. 

That said, I DO love being able to run home and put something in my crockpot while the twins are at OT.  It takes 4 minutes to get to the twins’ preschool and to Reese’s school, and basketball practice. And friends in Bentonville are way more willing to come over, or carpool to something. It does make it easier when you live close to town in almost every way.  I miss living super close to my parents. I miss being on a cul de sac. I really just miss my old life in general. A friend warned me that this might happen and I didn’t believe her, but it’s true. I wish people would stop asking me how much fun I’m having picking out new stuff. 

I liked the stuff I had. It wasn’t the best but it was mine and it was enough. Shopping will always be fun, of course! But it does not repair the intense feelings of loss and displacement that we all carry around. Today I made tortilla soup and went to the pantry for seasonings and remembered I don’t have a spice cabinet. I felt stupid for forgetting. But like we do probably 50 times a day, I shrugged and laughed “duh! Oops!” And carried on, the soup was fine without and so are we, we’re just a little bland with all our regular flavor missing.  

My anthem for the past 12 months has been Rise Up by Andra Day. It’s been in my head as I navigated hard things as a foster mother, and it’s in my head now, with the volume up to eleven, as we get up and give each day ahead of us our best effort. 

You're broken down and tired
Of living life on a merry go round
And you can't find the fighter
But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out
And move mountains
We gonna walk it out
And move mountains

And I'll rise up
I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up
I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousand times again
And I'll rise up
High like the waves
I'll rise up
In spite of the ache
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousands times again
For you
For you
For you

Thank goodness life carries on and the sun still rises.

Each time I sing “for you” I picture one of these dear souls I get to champion and be a mother warrior for.  I hope they know I’ll choose to never run out of fight for them and I’ll do it a thousand times again. 

100

Monday was the 100th day of school. I remembered this at 9pm on Sunday night. Fortunately, my neighbor and friend, Jennifer V had a wig and suspenders! Corbin put on a sweater and I hit him with some dry shampoo to grey him up. 

Also shown, Soren’s little victory dance. He worked hard under the neighbor’s basketball hoop and wouldn’t quit until he had swished 100 baskets. Here he is, singing “goal goal goal, I shot 100 goals!” 

Baller: Corbin

Corbin played some great defense for the Bulldogs. They closed a 14 point gap in the 4th quarter but lost by 3 points in the final seconds of the game. What a game though. His coaches are 3 basketball loving high school boys who put all adult coaches to shame. They come dressed in slacks with shirts and hats they had made that say Bulldogs on them, and send a reminder text before every game and practice. And they get so excited after every point their boys score that they jump up and down and it’s the greatest thing ever to watch.  Corbin is loving basketball. He wishes for more time on the court during games and is working hard on his game at the. Sigh it’s hoop after school.  

Saturday was the team’s first loss of the season and he didn’t take it well. These boys are a fourth quarter team through and through.  I think the loss was good for them to make them want it more and work a little harder. I bet they’ll show up with fierce intent to win much earlier in the next game. 

Bowlin’ with the Homies

On MLK day Caprice J came over to entertain littles while big kids took a hike to the creek behind our house (pretty sure they wandered into Doug McMillans backyard) and I made a dent in our inventory contents insurance claim. 

The babies were still napping, so Caprice helped me  dry off some storage bins and various other items I had rescued from our garage and had bee soaking in a vinegar and baking soda bath in our master tub.  

When the littles woke up, they wanted a lot of attention, and I had worked on fire recovery all day. Caprice stayed to play with them and I took Q to a friends house, picked up Finley S, and took the big kids bowling. 

Y’all. The Rogers bowling alley is killin it. Bowling has never been so fun. You take selfies with the monitor when you enter your name at the beginning, and then the system puts your face into short job-jab videos between every turn on every frame. They’re hilarious! We laughed at these little cartoons so much. Maybe we just really needed some laughter in our lives. It was excellent and the levity buoyed us right up.  Thank you Caprice for giving me a break to just have some mid-day quality time with my big kids and a distraction from all the insurance things!

Side note: I am officially an old lady. Bowling gave me a sore back and a stiff neck that has me popping ibuprofen, propped awkwardly in a chair to avoid pain, with a heat pack draped across my shoulders for much of today. “I can’t turn left!” 🤣🤣 

Worth it. 

Corbin builds a toolbox

How cute is the toolbox my Cubby Bear made? 

He held it up over his head when he got home and we immediately loaded him up with every screwdriver and alan wrench we have (which aren’t many 😂 but Corbin was delighted to be their keeper.) 

She Runs

I’m trying to get running again. My running club and friends have been so good to me to share clothes and gear.  Back in October, I almost signed up for the Vegas Marathon with Kasey, Jocelyn, Chris, Lacey, Mary S, and about half the Rush Running Gang, but couldn’t pull the trigger. Now I know why I felt the stupor of thought. I would be running 18 miles with them this Saturday. No way can I invest that kind of time. These girls are amazingly dedicated. I would have been heartbroken to have trained so hard this far to now be short on time, energy, and resources to pull off the 3-4 hour runs in Saturdays. It would devastate me to walk away at this point, so I’m truly grateful I already turned this one down and decided it’s not my season yet to train for a full marathon. 

I AM signed up for the Bentonville Half and am in the training club for it so it gets me out the door and and back home as my people are just waking up on Saturday mornings.  I really like this group and have made a lot of new friends through running together and encouraging one another. Mike is a great coach, and the community of volunteers that coach you along on the long runs just can’t be beat. I can’t make it to Monday night Speed or the Tuesday morning group runs...or really anything other than the Saturdays, but every Saturday from now until April, you’ll find me at the Downtown Activity Center getting a long run in with 200 friends before the sun is up. 

Last week, it started to snow an hour before the group run. That’s where you lose me. I don’t drive in it and I don’t run on ice.  I talked myself out of it, and turned off my alarm and went back to bed.  And then got peer pressure from Naomi and her sister, Amber, and my neighbor friend Hailey, to get up and get out there. Hailey picked me up on her way and we gutted out 6.2  FREEZING miles in the frozen slushy slush.  The group got a late start but we got out there! It was so slick we just sort of shuffled along. Coming up J street was brutal though and my face felt like it would freeze off. Everything hurt. This is ridiculous. Why was I putting myself though this?!  I had just decided to run home when we turned the corner onto Tiger Blvd, and had immediate relief. No more north wind and snowflakes pelting our faces.  I even got too warm and tooo off my vest.  As I ran over toward the entrance to our rental subdivision, I could hear Naomi shouting, “Weak! Don’t you dare be a quitter!” Hahaha Naomi thought I’d given in and was going home. O was just putting down my vest in the bushes to pick up later.  We were already about 2 miles in and I was already cold and wet and sweaty. May as well go for the full 6 miles! 

I ran with Hailey and we talked the whole run. It was slower due to icy patches, but I’m still dang proud of us for finishing a 10K in 25 degrees and snow in an hour and 5 minutes. Not bad at all! A year ago I was STOKED to run a 10:30 pace longer than 2 or 3 miles. By the end of training I was running a 9:45 pace for long distances.  Not sure I’ll get back there, but I’m happy to just be back our running a couple times a week again.  I always dread going. I stress and feel guilt about leaving the kids with Aaron, even though they’re usually asleep and he is so supportive. By the end of the run I feel so great and energized. I guess that’s motivation to just keep getting out there. Even when it’s freezing. I’ve got about 8 weeks to try try try to get my 6 miles up to 13.1 miles. Feels so good to do something by myself that isn’t related to the fire. 

Also, hey we made the news! 

Ok Bentonville Half, I’m coming for ya big! 

Now the Day is Over: An Evening With Garth Smith

My Uncle Steve has a brother named Garth, who is an accomplished pianist. We attended a fireside about the hymns several months ago when he was visiting Northwest Arkansas. He was so smitten by the area that he returned with his wife to property hunt over the 3 day weekend.  On Sunday nights, he posts a devotional on his Facebook page, titled, Now the Day is Over, with a testimony, scripture, and a piano number.  Since he was traveling, this weekend, he asked my mom to find someone with a piano would be willing to host him for his devotional. I thought of Karen Sasine. She invited us and several of her piano students to come listen.  Garth and Diane talked with everyone, and then Garth performed about 6 pieces.  He encouraged Corbin to practice practice practice, and to begin his practice with a prayer to havebthe Holy Spirit with him, and that his talent will grow to be an offering of worship and service to do the Lord’s work. Corbin asked Garth to sign his piano book, which was the cutest. Karen and Ron are always full of hospitality and were wonderful hosts. It was a special evening and the Spirit touched me through music and brought peace and validation into my heart and mind.

A few things

-I sure miss seeing some of these Bella Vista ward members faces every week. It was so nice to chat afterward with members of the “Bella Vista Old Timer’s Club”: Stephanie and Lily C, Jocelyn P, Brian and Jadene H, Ron and Karen S, Lacey S, and Tanya M. and see how much their children have grown up!   

-Diane panned the waving crowd during the FB Live and when I watched the video noticed little Corbin salutes the camera. 😂😂 That kid. What a character. 🤦🏻‍♀️ 

-I could listen to Garth’s arrangement of Joseph Smith’s First Prayer all day, but hearing it live is really an unforgettable experience. It has given me chills both times. 

-I loved seeing a piece of my art on the wall (shown in the background in the last pic above the letter S) in Karen’s home. Jenni H commissioned me to make several custom signs that said “O Come Let Us Adore Him, and Good Christian Men Rejoice)” to give as gifts after Nativity & Noel.  After seeing every piece of art I kept for myself totally charred from the fire, my heart swelled to see something familiar and still bright and beautiful and doing what it’s supposed to do. It sort of grounded my purpose in starting up Mrs Egg’s Table  in the first place. Not just a side hustle. It was an opportunity to create, both as a outlet for me to put ideas into fruition and as an offering to others to bring something meaningful and lovely into people’s homes.  I have had many moments of “what was all of this for?!” When I consider the time I spent making my house a home and all of the projects I’ve done to beautify and personalize it.  Guilt even, that my time was wasted on something that is non-eternal and physical and worldly. I’ve had to really work through my feelings about value in making my home a refuge and a place of beauty where everyone in it can learn and grow and feel love and fill their potential. I’m still resolving that I don’t think my home was a false idol that I worshipped.  I did consider it a holy and sacred place it felt good to keep it clean and personalized and welcoming and yes, decorated. I feel right about this and I felt so happy when I saw that even though the supplies and silhouette machine and finished projects from my closet waiting to go to the shop are all totally gone, something I made still holds value of sentiment to someone other than just me. None of the physical things go with us, but ways we bless and the culture we create with our hands and physical tools leave a mark and have purpose and meaning. 

Light the World: Cookies for Firefighters

During the fire, I was walking back from the woods toward the island that was full of trucks and ambulances and fire hoses. A friend who was there asked me if it was traumatizing to see those lights and trucks in my front yard. 

That was an easy answer. Not at all, actually. 

Growing up, my dad would occasionally stop by the house to grab something while en route back to the station (that was less than a mile from home) from a call. Seeing a fire truck out front was the BEST, because it meant my dad was home unexpectedly during a shift. He’d come in, wearing stinky turnouts, I’d get a hug and he’d be on his way. 

But it occurred to me that my feelings of peace and safety from seeing fire trucks in my driveway are not the same as what my children and friends who were at the fire with me might be experiencing, because they do not have the associated memories of security and normalcy that I do.  

Right before Christmas Day, Aaron had to go into work and I had a dozen errands to run to get us settled into the rental house, ready for Christmas, and a meeting with the restoration company who was at the house taking inventory of everything we own (and then throwing it away, without me there).  

Add to this pre holiday/post disaster madness a layer of “what do I do about this?!” Mom-worry as the older children started exhibiting symptoms of post traumatic stress and anxiety. I need to be home to help them regulate! No! I need to run these errands so we can have stability and they can recover! I need to be in both places! I’m still wearing borrowed underwear! I need to switch utilities into our name! I need to have one on one time with _____! I need to sleep! No! I need to go buy a fire extinguisher and new lock box for our meds so we can pass licensing in the rental house for DCFS! I need to wrap Christmas gifts! I need Aaron! No! Aaron needs to be at work!  I need to call the insurance adjuster about the claim before I sign papers for the contractor!  I need to interview the contractor!  I need to change into muck clothes and go to the find my temple bag! No!  I need to stay here and feed everyone lunch!  I need to help the kids who are crying.  I need to clone myself!  

Kasey and Jimmie swooped in at just the right time. The had the kids over for a cookie baking play date. It was such a gift for the kids, and so nice for me to be able to run my errands in hyperspeed.  We met back up after a bit and took cookies to the firefighters who responded to our house fire. 

Jimmie aka Ron Swanson taught Corbin how to be a man on their play date. 😂 they shot a slingshot, built a fire, cut wood with a saw, and shined some shoes.  It’s only a matter of time before welding, arm wrestling, and beard maintenance become part of the Art of Manliness lessons with Jimmie series. Corbin loved it. 

This was what was needed. 

They let the kids climb on the trucks, which seemed to ease some nerves that had accumulated after seeing the trucks at the house. We thanked them for working the holidays, for responding to the 9-1-1 dispatch to our house so quickly, for trying to save our home, and for bravely doing what they do every day.  

The kids needed to serve others, to process trauma, to be somewhere homey and familiar, and to do something traditional and “Christmasey”. Thank you Kasey and Jimmie for lighting our world! 

Sloane is Four!

Sloane’s Singing Birthday Candle terrified her. 😂 

We celebrated our little New Year baby a week late due to her being ill on her actual birthday. No homemade cakes from mom, sadly, but Grandma and Grandpa were heroes and picked up the cutest sprinkled frosted confection with an awesomely colorful rainbow tie dye swirl cake batter inside. Sloane loved it (once the candle flame was out, that is!) 

Oh Sloane Winifred. You should have been born on the Fourth of July! You’re a fun little firecracker. Full of life and demands and adorable charm. We all work for you and you know it.  

This year, you have mastered the art of big sister again,  and welcomed two new playmates into your life, sharing our attention and everything else from toys to your clothes.  You love life and you live your best life for sure, reminding each of us daily to not take everything too seriously.  I love you, Sloane Wini! You are an explosion of light in my life! 

Come, Follow Me

Here are Aaron and I, dressed as Mary and Joseph. We were asked to be “special visitors” in Sloane’s Sunbeam class, today.  The children were wiggly and adorable and captivated by our message about miracles and obedience to God’s will. 

The Willies are trying hard. 

That’s the best way I can describe our lives, right now. 

We are working our tails off to keep everyone stable. 

We have counselors and therapists working to keep  the few in emotional health crisis from a complete tailspin. We are plugging along with “life as usual” to maintain stability for others. 

I’m tired. 

No, I’m much more than tired. 

I am running on fumes. 

Digging through our life-in-ashes and organizing the mess for weeks in prep for demolition has been exhausting.  

Mothering and partnering a lot of humans dealing with Trauma and anxiety (with a dose for me too, thanks but no thanks) has me weary.  

Some days, I focus on finding things that make me laugh, because crying gives me a headache and the cathartic release of laughter is nearly as effective. 

Other days are heavy with grief and when I want to crawl back under covers, I find like 100 tiny people waiting for me under there, demanding breakfast and fresh diapers.  

We are pressing along. 

I love this picture of Aaron so much, I had to share. This is from last Sunday, on our first Home Based, Church Supported, hour of home-study Sunday Home School. We haven’t come up with a perfect name for this hour yet, but we will. 

We gathered the children on the big half-sofa (I ordered a replica of our exact same gigantic sectional. Only half has arrived, but even that feels wonderfully familiar.) and we told the children about our new church calling. 

Dad and I have been called to team teach a Sunday school class! 

It’s every week, for one hour.

We will use a New Testament Study manual cakes Come, Follow Me for Individuals and Families. 

The age range of our students are: 14, 12, 9, 6, 4, 3 and 3. 

The children didn’t catch on that THEY were our students. 🤣. We gave more clues, “we will hold class right here in the living room, at such and such time of day, Soren is in our class, Quincy is in our class, yes Reese is too, etc. 

The enthusiasm ended there and the a large portion  of the following hour involved  tears, opposition, sibling fighting, and complaints. But we are trying! 

This week, the change was that the entire DAY was described as tears, opposition,  “I can’t find any shoes (because #sunday, and remember #imsotired) fighting, complaints, hysterical screaming, traumatic meltdowns, EXCEPT for the one hour home Sunday school class. THAT hour was a lovely and wonderful gospel discussion. 

I want to be optimistic and say that’s improvement and I think I honestly can, because that hour offered us the only peace we felt in a long 24 hour marathon of  emotional breakdowns. Chaos resumed almost immediately when we finished our study today, but I enjoyed the hour of respite.

I have Elder Holland’s voice in my head every day, promising, “we get points for trying.” 

We are trying, indeed. 

And to me, trying is succeeding.

Thank goodness we get to do life one hour at a time! This was an hour I definitely don’t wish to crawl under a blanket and forget! 

I don’t know how to write about the fire

So...I won’t. 

Not yet, anyway. 

I can totally talk about it. 

(Talking has never been my problem.😉)

But even with talking, there will never be enough words to cover all the ground that the fire has touched. 

I also don’t know how to write about anything that’s happened since the fire without first acknowledging here that it happened. 

So here is a post to claim the space that it needs. We’re still engulfed in its devastation, but finding little pockets that were not left untouched, but offer enough normal for us to breathe again.  Some of us are sleeping normally again, some of us are emotionally paralyzed, some are singed and angry, some are weepy, some carry on as if nothing changed, some are still searching for the why, some want a break, some are buffering and avoiding reality. Lots of gratitude. Lots of grief. Lots of hope.  Lots of ambivalence trying to understand and navigate the new part that’s been created for us, for our family culture, for the roles we’re called to play.  

Winter break sort of feels like it’s 2 minutes to curtain and we’re rushing around to take our places. We all still know our lines, but no one knows where we’re supposed to be. What act is this? What PLAY is this? Do I even belong in this show?  

Fortunately, everyone we love is right here behind the curtain with us, like stage hands making sure we’re clothed and have our props and have been fed, pushing us out on stage, because despite our resistance and misunderstanding and not recollecting a rehearsal for ANY of this, the show must go on.

So now we’re live and bumbling around and doing our best. I circle back to the fire. I wouldn’t say it “deserves” its own post, but it certainly is claiming one.  But my hope is that now that I’ve given the fire a space, I will find my own space and at least keep up with our digital family journal keeping.