My dad says he graduated from high school 6 times: once for himself, and once for each of us kids. I have now graduated for the final time. Landon passed his GED this week, amongst all the other chaos and craziness. So Friday we drove to Sacramento, where he will live with my parents and work with my brother (internship) for 2 months. I already miss him like crazy, but I think this is going to be a wonderful experience for him. Go, Landon!!!
Sister Hill just finished her 2nd "transfer." Sister Williams was transferred. Bri was not. I'm anxious to hear from her tomorrow and know how things are going. She is loving her mission and the wonderful people in Indiana!
Landon completed 9th grade, which means we just left middle school for the final time. I think I've died and gone to heaven. He finished on a high, too. That boy earned straight A's for 4th quarter!
Ashtyn's commencement exercises were on Thursday afternoon. You should have seen her. Not only was she beautiful (duh!), but she was glowing with happiness. It was a great day.
And our Taylor received his mission call! He is going to the Canada Calgary mission, reporting to the Provo MTC on August 1.
What a wonderful, wonderful week!
Once upon a time there was an angel-girl born to our family. She was happy and kind and helpful and beautiful.
Once or twice or thrice (or more) upon a time, the angel-girl got sick. Once or twice or thrice (or more) upon a time, the girl missed school. Once or twice or thrice (or more) upon a time the angel-girl visited the doctor. OOTOT(OM)UAT the girl had her blood drawn. The angel has needle tracks on her arm, but her parents can vouch for being there each time one of those marks was created, and none of it was done illegally. OOTOT(OM)UAT the angel-girl had to make up absences and assignments and sometimes entire classes.
So finally the angel-girl's parents said, "Angel-girl, you must stop worrying about so many things. College will still be there in another year. Jobs will still be there after high school. We will worry about small things like senior portraits after we stop worrying about larger things like a high school diploma." So the angel-girl dug in her heels and spread her wings. She worked like an angel possessed. OOTOT(OM)UAT the angel-girl met with her teachers and the vice principal and the school counselor. OOTOT(OM)UAT the angel-girl went to attendance school (some more) and did packets and took online classes.
And finally, finally, finally, the angel-girl got her just rewards and qualified to graduate from high school. (The official "walk" is tomorrow afternoon, and there is a lovely blue cap and gown hanging in the dining room.)
And also finally, the angel-girl had time to go get senior portraits taken:
Spence and I went to a movie--alone--on Friday night. The movie was average, but the company was lovely. I'm totally whooped over that guy, and I am so grateful to have him in my life!
We spent some time with family at my grandparent's house on Saturday morning. The weather was glorious and cool, and I loved being with our family.
It was stake conference weekend. As is often the case, there were choices between two good things, so Spencer and I made the best choices we could, which separated us for the evening on Saturday. After I got home I started watching "Independence Day" on TV. Tay's friends came over and had a bonfire in the back yard. There was a lot of action at our house, and Spence and I finally went to bed at midnight when the movie ended. The others were still roasting marshmallows and watching a movie outside.
We had a lovely stake conference yesterday. I took a nap in the early afternoon, then spent kind of a lazy Sunday. Logan and Chris came over again. I'm glad they feel like they can come.
Did y'all see the annular eclipse? Spence has a welder's mask (let me tell you how I rock a welder's mask), so we took turns looking at the sky when the clouds were not in the way. Pretty cool stuff.
Good news: Ashtyn gets to graduate! Is that the best news you've heard in days? Yes. Yes, it is.
Yesterday our second child graduated from high school. I know that commencement ceremonies are dull, but I am not your normal person. By the end of the exercises my cheeks were tired from all the smiling. I looked around at that group of Jags and realized that there are over a dozen of them who I love enough to claim them as my own. They are talented. They are brilliant. They are good. They are extraordinary, ordinary people. It is a blessing to know them, and I hope I get a tiny chance to have glimpses of them as they grow up.
When the meeting had concluded, Spencer turned to me and said, "Well, that's half of our children." I did not shed tears till he said that.
I know I've said this a dozen times, but having our children grow up is a much harder thing than I expected it to be. I am thrilled for them. I am pleased with the choices they are making and people they are. I love that Spencer and I get to look forward to time together in our later years.
But it also gives me a little sock in the stomach when I consider that in 8 months or less our son will be on a mission. In a year, #3 will be graduating from high school. There is a piece of me that just can't get past the fact that a blink ago I was the #1 person in their lives; that I could tell them to be home at 6:00, and at 6:00 they were safely under my wings for the night; that I got to choose their clothes and their shoes and their hairstyles and their meals and their daily activities.
On the other hand, there was a lot of potential sitting in that room yesterday. There were amazingly brilliant people. There were frighteningly motivated people. There were extremely giving people. Sitting in blue and black robes were several hundred young people who in the next several decades really could change the world. Their futures are as bright as their eyes.
But some of these young people will spend time in prison; while some will work hard to promote peace and justice. Many will divorce, and many will marry wonderful people and raise beautiful families. Some will be married by this time next year, possibly with babies of their own on the way. Many will serve missions for the Church; some who we hope will serve will choose not to. Some will be presidents of companies and directors of boards, their names "in lights" (figuratively or literally). Others will quietly care for parents, siblings, spouses, and children with no fanfare and very little recognition. Some will be taken by cancer; others will live till they've outlived everyone they knew before they were 20 years old. Some will grow old and bitter; others will grow old with laugh-line-wrinkles. Some will walk in the shadow of doubt; some will bask in the glow of faith.
And there before me is the really harsh truth: I have no idea what is in store for our children. Not only do I not choose their clothes or their meals or their jobs, I do not control the paths their lives take AT ALL. I cannot control their choices or the choices of the people around them.
It's a sock in the stomach, I tell you!
And then I remember that it's not all about fear. It is still about hope and promise and goodness. I will revel in continuing to know and watch and celebrate our fabulous children.
And to my dying day, they will be my cherished babies.
The last time Spencer dropped out of school I told him, "Don't ever talk to me about school again. I love you the way you are. No more school!" When he decided to go back to school, he told me just as church was about to begin so that I could not kill him. It took me two weeks before I could even talk about it. When I did I said, "You are on your own! Don't ask me to make dinner. Don't ask me to get the kids out of the house. Don't ask me to proof a paper. If you want to go to school, you figure it out. I've given all I'm giving to your schooling. And if you ever graduate, I will throw a huge party and invite everyone we've ever known to attend."
I'm sorry to admit it, but I was true to my word. No help.
But we had a great party last night! A woman from our single's ward, a couple from the first ward we attended when we were married, a family from the ward we attended when we first came back to Utah, a couple of families from our ward in Magna, family members, co-workers, and current ward and stake friends came to celebrate with us last night. We thank you all for being such wonderful friends! We love you!
(Pictures are on a slide show to the right.)
See you in two years when it's Taylor's turn...
Spencer finished school on Sunday. He turned in his very last paper. He earned an A- in the class. He is now officially a man with a bachelor's degree. Way to go, Baby!
Briana came home from school yesterday with a lovely baby blue cap and gown in tow. After paying some fines and finishing some work, she is qualified to graduate from high school. Commencement is on Thursday evening.
I'm so proud of both of them!
My friend and supervisor has a daughter who has also been scrambling to complete packets in order to graduate. We have done a lot of laughing and hoping and praying. Both of our daughters are fabulous young woman. They are responsible, caring, hard-working, and excellent in many things. But now we are facing the very end of high school--and these young ladies are facing the consequences of poor choices earlier in their high school careers.
As a parent it is difficult to allow your children to make choices that you consider wrong. In this case it's not necessarily wrong, but it will have difficult and far-reaching consequences, maybe for life; it's difficult to see that happen to your children. Additionally, it is very hard not to let pride set in: I'm smarter than that--how come she couldn't be? She's just as good as that other student, maybe better! How must I look to others when I couldn't even get our daughter through high school? What will people think of her? Why didn't I ____________?
Of course, none of those pride issues is the real issue, and most of them aren't even true! But Satan will work on us to make us feel like we are failures in any way that he can.
And so, we work; we tell our children that they are great and that they can do it; we stay up late; we tell our children that they are great and that they can do it; we help with homework, even when we aren't sure what we're talking about; we tell our children that they are great and that they can do it; we tell them that again. And we pray.
This is another hard thing. What I want to pray is, "Father, please make it all OK. Let her finish and succeed. FIX IT!" What I try to pray is, "Father, please make it all OK, whatever that is. Let her succeed, even if it means she has to fail. I haven't been perfect. Neither has she. But we're working, and we're trying to do all we can to fix this and make it right. Help us to accept thy will. Please help us."
This morning my dear friend came into the office completely frazzled and announced that it didn't look like her daughter was going to graduate. She was heart-sick and emotional and disappointed and frustrated. She told us later that she hardly even remembered walking to the bus stop because she was praying so hard. And finally she found it in her to say, "According to thy will..." As soon as she truly prayed that, her burden was lighter. She was still concerned about her daughter and the situation, but she was doing all she could and leaving the rest in God's hands. This afternoon her older, married son and his wife called and offered to sit up with her daughter all night to get as much done as they could. And then a dear friend contacted her roommate, who was a high school chemistry teacher, who agreed to help them all through the night if necessary in order to get this packet completed.
Somehow, God helps us through things. And it is still possible that--after all of this--there will be no graduation ceremony. But there have been blessings and understanding and learning that may not have come in any other way.
(As a follow-up: we are still hoping and praying in our family, too. But friends--Bri's and ours--have stepped up to the plate to help in many, many ways. Bri, too, has kept on plugging. She's had lots of late nights, but she's getting there. We are cautiously hopeful. And we are grateful for the blessings and the understanding and the learning.)
OK, at this moment in our lives, there IS NOTHING more painful than graduation.
Spencer is on his very last class. It will last for another 27 days (but who is counting?). It requires a lot of paper-writing and reading, neither of which is Spencer's forte. The good news is that my Superman is committed to finishing, though he is, admittedly, trunky.
Case in point: I took a nice 45-minute snooze yesterday. He wrote a paper. I rest my case.
***
Briana now has 8 days to complete her online class, which will make up for a class she failed in 9th grade. 9th grade. We already bought the packet for this one once. (sigh.)
Up till now we've sort of taken a hands-off approach. No more. It's time to roll up our sleeves and be the parents. It's probably past time, but there's no use beating ourselves up, right?
So yesterday Spencer sees her headed for her room. He mouths to her, "Work on some homework." She gives the martyr's sigh and moans, "OoooooKaaaayyyy." Three minutes later I am in the kitchen when I realize that Bri has headed for her room. I was unaware of what had taken place three minutes previously, so I call out, "Bri? Whatcha doin'?" Long pause. "Reading." "Get out your homework and get to work, please."
5 minutes later she exits her room with pen and notebook and red eyes. Her supportive parents clear the entire upstairs of obnoxious children and pets (read: Landon and Bella) so that she can work in peace and quiet.
This morning I taught our daughter how to create an outline for an essay. If she hadn't failed 9th grade English maybe she would already know this.
And we have 8 days to complete this. And 15 days to complete a geometry packet. And 30 days to do attendance school and pull up four (count them--FOUR!) classes that she is currently failing (her last quarter of her senior year!).
Do you think we'll all pull it off? Vote at the right...
