Gee, we think she's swell!!

Eleanor Kathryn Aldrich

Born May 16th, 2011

8 lbs. 0 oz.

Temple thoughts

Eric and his family after being sealed in the Seattle temple.

Last Sunday the Atlanta temple was rededicated. It had been closed for two years for renovations, and for two weeks before the rededication, it was open to the public. Normally, even members of our church can only enter after age twelve, and if they're living certain key principles, so this was a special opportunity for us to take friends, neighbors and our kids to see the inside of a place that holds sacred meaning for us.

We went to the open house on a very crowded Thursday evening. I think we arrived at 6:45 or so and didn't get inside the temple until after 8:00, thanks to my total failure to remember that I actually have a good excuse to request a handicapped spot (and Mormons, bless them, are so wonderful to pregnant women). We had brought our three children, our neighbor's 9-year-old son (who is a member) and our wonderful neighbor across the street and her three daughters (who aren't).

At the Washington, D.C. temple with our friend Kadest, from Ethiopia, just after we were married.

The tour started with a video explaining some of why we hold temples so sacred and as I sat next to my neighbor, a newly-single mom, I had a flash-back to what it felt like for me, twelve years ago, to hear Mormons talk about their families. My parents were in the middle of an unpleasant divorce, and thoughts of eternal bonds and loving homes were like water to my parched sixteen-year-old soul. Oh how I wanted those things for myself.

Now they're mine, and though the hard work and sacrifices required were more than I'd bargained for, so too have been the joys. As I sat in that crowded chapel next to my neighbor, I knew she could feel the same promise I had felt more than a decade ago.

At the Nauvoo temple open house with 6-month-old Eric.

Inside the temple was crowded and chaotic, not at all how we're used to experiencing it. There were so many people there that night that tour groups and guides went out the window and we were left to navigate the rooms and crowds at will. The children were so excited, they couldn't keep their hands off anything. They touched the crystals dangling from the wall sconces, the stained glass windows, the leather benches, the hand-stitched lace altar-covers, the gilt frames of the paintings- all of it. And I let them- knowing that volunteers would painstakingly clean every surface before the prophet's arrival in a few days, and knowing too that the Savior must be smiling down at all this energy, exuberance and wonder in his normally hushed house.

We came to the sealing room, where couples are married for eternity, and showed them the mirrors reflecting into each other. When the boys sat down to rest for a minute on the couch at the front of the room, I told them that the next time they sit on one of those couches might be their wedding day.

Over the following days I thought constantly of my little eternal family- what they mean to me and what I mean to them. During runs through the park and evenings at the kitchen sink the spirit taught me something I hope I'll never forget: that it is not my privilege, or my responsibility to shape or mold these children I've been given. They are themselves, whole and complete, and my imperfect intentions and limited understanding have no business weighing them down. Rather, my opportunity as mother and wife is to shape this family, the bonds between the five (almost six!) of us, and to nurture and influence the feelings of love we have for one another. It's through that influence that my impact on their lives can and should manifest itself.

The temple is quiet now, the fingerprints gone, the frames straightened and the sconces gleaming. There are countless lessons left for me to learn within its sacred walls, but I'll keep close the one that came amidst the crowds and the laughter of my children.

A tale of three dates...

In a house without boys...

The furniture stays put
The sofa cushions stay on
The laundry hamper and dishwasher fill slowly
And the baby sleeps longer
But it's too quiet
and too clean
And not quite right without them

Today we got our boys back. They spent five incredible days in California visiting their Aunt Laura and Uncle Adam. They were the first kids in the entire universe to see a brand new Cartoon Network show. They ate a different kind of sugar cereal for breakfast each day. They rode their very first roller coasters and took their first surfing lesson. They took in Lego Land with Harry, one of their oldest and best friends. They met Sponge Bob. The Sponge Bob (or his voice, at least).

They came home dressed in sunglasses and checkered Vans, utterly exhausted and laden with new treasures: toys, buttons, tattoos and the like. They shared their bounty with the entire neighborhood, who gathered on our front lawn to welcome them home when school let out. One child said to me, as I pressed a wet rag over his temporary tattoo, "I wish I could be in your family. When we go on vacation we just go to people's houses and a bunch of stores!"

We had breakfast burritos with root beer and brownies for dinner. (I felt the need to show I could serve fun food too). We had a short family home evening and they fell asleep almost as soon as their newly clean heads hit the pillow. They had showered a total of one time in five days and, inexplicably, almost all their clean clothes returned home unworn...the mark of a truly good, parent-free vacation. I told them I'd let them sleep late tomorrow because they're still on California time. I can just see them telling that to all their friends when they saunter into class in their Vans at 10 A.M.









We got a lot of surprised looks when we told people where Eric and Brigham were last week. Though I worried just a tiny bit, I know my cousin and my brother and knew that they would be extremely well-cared-for. At least emotionally, if not nutritionally:). The flights went off without a hitch- one of the benefits of living in Atlanta= non-stops to everywhere. It was the adventure of a lifetime, and I think they'll remember it forever.

More details of their exploits to come, when I get the serious-camera pictures....

To Marley-

(Picture by Lindsay)

Tonight I left you with a head of wet curls resting on a pillow borrowed from my bed while your own is in the wash. You picked a piece of fuzz from your binky before putting it in your mouth and pulling your purple blanket up to your chin. I closed the door and turned on the fan to protect your sensitive ears from the getting-ready-for-school rustlings of your brothers in the morning.

I have dreams for you, sweet girl. Not of degrees, travels, honors, or even husband and children. My dreams for you are of smiles that start on the inside and spread to your face, earnest tears, questions asked fearlessly, and love given and received with an open, trusting heart.

The rest is yours to choose. I'll be here, watching and learning.

Love,
Mama

Make a wish

I lived through nineteen March 10th's before I knew what a special day it was.

That first year we were still dating, and I called his mom to find out his favorite meal and what birthday traditions they used to have at home. I gave him an orange shirt because that's my favorite color on him. It was way too big, but he's kept it all this time. I made him Texas straw hats for dinner- we haven't had it in years, thanks to our veg-head children. I decorated a plastic cup with paint pens (I was nineteen- remember?) and our initials inside a heart- we use it to dump water on Marley's head in the bath.

Happy birthday, sweetheart. When look for the evidence of God's love in my life- first, and always I see you.

Shift

Eric and Brigham, with assorted neighborhood children after a visit from the ice-cream man.

I read today that my baby can dream. What do you suppose a yet-to-be-born baby dreams of?

As for me, these days I dream about the fruit trees I will one day have in my yard...of sleeping on my stomach...of baking pies for my grandchildren...of sewing sleeves on Marley's prom dress...of pushing a double jogging stroller again. Those are the dreams fit to print, at least- we all know that pregnancy dreams can get a little freaky...

A friend who just had a baby gifted us with two packages of newborn diapers on Sunday. Before bed tonight, Marley clawed open one of the packs and pulled out a tiny diaper. I had my mouth open to ask her to stop, but the words got stuck. I had forgotten, already, how impossibly small they are. I showed it to the boys, who seemed unimpressed. Then Marley put it on her baby doll and hugged it close while I sang goodnight songs.

It's been said that "when a child is born, the whole universe has to shift and make room." (Stephen Gaskin).