The Miracle of Lights

My sweetie doesn’t like to mix holidays. That means Halloween doesn’t start until October, November is mostly dedicated to Thanksgiving, and we can’t sing Christmas songs or put up lights until Black Friday. But bright and early Friday morning, the Dog Walker started on his Christmas light display. Remember I told you about his Halloween lights? Well they are nothing compared to what he likes to do for Christmas.

He worked the entire holiday weekend after Thanksgiving, spending at least 10 hours every day (taking a few off for church on Sunday) and then after school every evening for the next couple of weeks. Yesterday he was out there for a while and when he came back in he announced to anyone within earshot, that “The Christmas lights are done!” So, without any further ado, I present for your viewing pleasure, the Miracle of Lights…
(This is the first year we have had a sign, and you would not believe all the drama involved in it. I think he was inspired by our trip to the Festival of Lights on Monday. He got a piece of poster paper and wrote the name is his best cursive, but then I suggested that the paper would get ruined if it snowed, so he covered it with packing tape…completely!

Then he couldn’t figure out how to put it up, so I suggested garden stakes, but the ones we had were too small, so he found a piece of wood and cut his own. Unfortunately, the one in the middle wouldn’t hold it with all the tape because it was too heavy, so he made another stake and put them on both sides.

Sadly, the ground was too hard from the cold weather to pound them in, so the sign sat for a few days waiting for things to warm up and dad to come home and help. They finally got the sign pounded in and he was happy until one of the girls mentioned that it was impossible to read at night. So then he wrapped lights around the sign and down the stakes. Then I, like an idiot, told him you still couldn’t really read the sign. So he took his Christmas lights and carefully poked holes in the sign and stuck them around each word.)

So now our display is complete. Leave him some nice comments, please, he lives for comments…cause it really is a miracle, we are finally finished with the lights (unless some OTHER idiot makes a comment about the sign…)

Pioneer Day

Living in Utah has certain advantages…like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir (I saw them in concert last night and it was amazing!). We have the Great Salt Lake, which is beautiful, even if you wouldn’t want to swim in it. We also have Zion’s National Park, Moab, Capitol Reef…hundreds of square miles of beautiful country (if you can avoid the road construction to get there…). But one of the coolest things we have is an extra holiday in July!

July 24th marks the anniversary of the pioneer saints entering the Salt Lake valley and Brigham Young announcing, “This is the place!” We celebrate with a big parade downtown and a world class rodeo (which I have only attended once in my life when a neighbor offered us free tickets). Many companies give employees the day off, but not the one my sweetie works for. This year the 24th falls on a Sunday, so the parade and other festivities are being held on the 25th. My sweetie and I were both born and raised in Utah and we have pioneers in every line of our family.  In an effort to honor our ancestry, I’d like to tell you a little about one of them.

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It was 1862 in Mt. Pleasant, Utah.  Little Eliza Jane was 18 months old and she liked to follow her daddy, Nathan Staker into the orchard when he went to work.  This worried her mom because there was a large ditch that ran close by (I’m sorry, I told you before that I had shared all my drowning stories, but I found one more). One day after lunch Eliza Jane was missing.  They looked everywhere for her.  Finally someone thought of the ditch.  She was there, floating in the water wedged against the dam.  She had been missing for over an hour and nothing could revive her.

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Her grieving parents decided to send for Elder Orson Hyde who lived 5 miles away in Spring City.  When Elder Hyde got there, he looked at Eliza Jane’s little body.  She had no pulse and no heartbeat.  Her body was getting cold.  He told the Stakers, “She is dead and it isn’t pleasing in the sight of the Lord that we should try to bring back our dead after He has called them home.”  Her dad said that he always tried to do what the Lord wanted, but that she was promised in her blessing that she would grow to womanhood and become a mother in Israel.  “In that case,” said Elder Hyde, “I will ask God to restore your little girl to life again.” It wasn’t long before Eliza’s little body was once again warm and pink. Eliza Jane lived to bear 13 children (I told you it runs in the family!).

Dog Walker and Teach pretending to be pioneers

There are so many amazing stories like this one written in our old family journals and histories. I believe in miracles! I know when Princess drowned it wasn’t quite as dramatic as her being in the water for over an hour, but it was a miracle just the same. I promise not to stay on my soapbox for too long…but you really should read up on some of your family history. I’m sure you could find some amazing stories of your own! That’s part of the reason I started this blog. I want to remember the funny, silly, day-to-day stuff that is lost (like the king doesn’t have to wear pants!) unless someone takes the time to write it down. Do me a favor…take a minute and write down something fun that happened this summer. Make it like a school assignment. Just save it in a file somewhere on your computer and call the folder “Family History.” If you do that once a week, even a few lines, someday you will be so glad you did. It’s been a little over six months since we started this blog and just looking back is so much fun! Just do it … (I sound like Nike)…become a historian for the next generation.

My Tupperware Obsession - part 2

Sorry for the cliff-hanger, I didn’t mean to stress anybody. So as I was saying, with the Tupperware thing I was working full time as a Tupperware manager with around 50 consultants, I was also working full time as a Technical Writer, and I was teaching college writing classes two nights a week. We had three little ones at home and the Drama Queen was just past a year when I got pregnant with Teach.

Little baby Teach

Remember the story I told you about how we made some stupid financial mistakes when we first got out of school? Well, that’s the reason I was working three jobs in the first place. But I didn’t have to work the Tupperware job so hard, in fact, being a manager and worrying every month about keeping my sales up so they didn’t take my van or my bonus cost me more money than I was making! Sometimes I had to order in extra product so that my numbers didn’t drop, then I had to sell it to break even the next month. There were some Saturdays that I held three parties a day!

That’s about when my sweetie said we needed to find a cheaper place to live and we found the scary little house out in Magna that would keep our expenses down. Remember, then we were actually able to buy the house near our babysitter by not paying our bills for a month? So all through that time, Tupperware was a constant. Teach was born in June after we had been in our house for about 5 months. Some people said she was “born in a Tupperware bowl.” It almost felt like it! I was working like crazy, just trying to keep my head above water. Thus ended the year 1991.

In 1992 I vowed that things would be better, but even though our house payment was about the same as our rent had been, we now had additional expenses that we didn’t have before. Bossy and the Gym Rat were in a Montessori school and Drama Queen and Teach were heading off to my neighbor’s house every day. The childcare costs were almost as much as the mortgage. We sunk deeper and deeper into debt. I couldn’t possibly take on another job! My sweetie was also working three jobs – his regular day job as an engineer, his work with me on the Tupperware unit (if you look at the pics from yesterday, you can see him doing a demonstration at a party!) and he was also teaching some night classes.


The day I decided I just couldn’t do it anymore, I hit my knees and asked God to grant us some sort of miracle. I wasn’t sure what it could possibly be that would help us out of this mess, but I figured He knew. About a week later, my sweetie was given an amazing opportunity. You all know that he is an Electronics Design Engineer. He worked for a little company called Dayna Communications. (It was swallowed up by Intel several years after he changed jobs.) Anyway, they had some circuit boards that were having issues. They told him that for each board he could troubleshoot and repair, they would pay him $90.00.

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Since my sweetie had designed the boards, he was the perfect person to spot the problems in manufacturing. The best part about it was that he could do the job at home. All through that long, hot summer, he brought home huge bins of these boards and identified all the problems for manufacturing to fix. The kids and I helped him run the diagnostic tests and we fixed almost all of them. Twenty-three thousand dollars and three months later and our financial problems were fixed! But we still had all those jobs and all those commitments.

Little baby Dog Walker

 As we headed into the fall selling season of Tupperware, my sweetie became more and more convinced that we needed to quit. My vanity kept me at it just a little longer until he put his foot down. He absolutely refused to even let me consider having a fifth child until we were no longer selling Tupperware. So after the Christmas selling season was over, I spoke with each of our consultants at our Christmas party. I asked them where they wanted to transfer and made a long list. Then my sweetie and I walked into the distributorship, handed them the list and the keys to our van and we walked away. We were listed in the Top 5 for December…by January 1, we were gone. The Dog Walker was born the following November.

My New Role

Did I ever tell you it’s hard to actually pull off going anywhere with this crew of mine? You know ever since I wrote about the Mormon Miracle pageant a couple of weeks ago and how much I enjoyed being part of that cast as a kid, everybody but my sweetie has been dying to go see it. I was most anxious to see if it was as amazing as I remember from my youth and some of the kids insisted they had never been. We say that we will go every year, but something always comes up and it doesn’t happen. This year was no different.

Princess and the Prima Donna spent all week at Girls’ Camp, so Saturday night was our only option and it also happened to be the last performance. Teach, Drama Queen, and the Dog Walker all survived Friday night at their Relay for Life, walking the track and helping raise money for cancer research and cure. (Thanks to everyone who donated, btw!) Then we had three soccer games (except that Crafty threw up right before her game, so she didn’t go) and I had to make a quick trip to Kohl’s that turned into a long trip…they have some amazing clearance and I have an extra 30% off this week! But I think I’m pretty much done with school shopping.

Anyway, by the time everyone got back to the house, tired and exhausted (and a little ornery), I almost wrote it all off. But we were still in the same boat, everybody but my sweetie said they wanted to go so we quickly loaded a cooler and some sandwich makings and stuffed everyone in the van. With the older girls along, every seat was full. And believe me, we heard about it for most of the 2-hour drive! Thankfully, a bunch of them took the opportunity to nap, so that helped. We spent a couple of hours at Grandma’s house, then we headed for Manti.

We arrived just before 9:00, found a parking place, covered everybody but the baby in bug spray, and hiked three blocks to the temple grounds. I could tell right off that things were different. First of all, the blankets we brought were mostly not necessary. Almost the entire area was covered with folding chairs. When I was young, they only had a small section of them for the “old” people and everyone else spread out on the ground. My sweetie grumbled about not getting to cuddle on a blanket, but then led the troops right down front. We waited for about half an hour for the show to begin. Curly kept bouncing around from seat to seat, a combination of the donut I fed him and the fact that he hadn’t remembered to go to the potty.

Finally the show began at dusk. The kids were annoyed that I knew all of the words since the soundtrack is mostly the same, so after about the first 10 minutes I stopped quoting and started listening. The part when Joseph dies still made me cry as did the Mormon Battalion scene. It was not the same, but then it couldn’t be. There I was, no longer a young girl who was part of the cast, but a mom with ten of her children gathered around, watching the scenes unfold. I had Baby Doll tucked in my jacket to nurse and keep the bugs away. Curly and Teach on one side, Drama Queen with Scout on the other. All the normal quiet chaos we have at any church meeting and I found myself feeling very comfortable in my new role. I guess that’s how life usually works. You can’t really ever go back…but maybe forward is better anyway.

Don't Drive Stupid

I got a text from the Drama Queen about 4:30 today. "…they’re having an awesome drunk driving demo in the Smith’s parking lot. You guys should come. There’ll be helicopters and everything." Well, who could resist a text like that? Not me…and apparently not Bossy either. We both pulled in at the same time. 

They were still setting up as we strolled across the parking lot. There were various police cars and a trailer with what looked like two carnival cars on it. They had a couple of tables with the proverbial literature and free pens. A woman in a Zero Fatalities shirt was handing out string backpacks and an occasional t-shirt (Princess got one!). I guess she looked like a prospective driver. (I can’t believe it’s only a few more months!) 

 As we rounded the tables I saw the cars. They were placed strategically in the parking lot so they looked like they were in an actual accident. Both were covered with broken glass as if they were simply waiting for a tow truck. We wandered around and the kids took their turn in the "carnival ride." It really simulated what a 5-mph crash would feel like. I think Scout and Taco were the most surprised as they jostled in the seats. 

 Back at the crash site they were preparing for the big event, and by the time we walked back over, the victims were in place. There were five real teenagers involved in the "accident." We happened to know one of them and that made it even more personal. One girl was lying on the ground, covered in fake blood. A boy appeared to have been thrown through the windshield. The driver of that car was sitting behind the wheel. She also had a passenger in the backseat. The boy in the other car was supposed to be stuck behind the wheel of his car. 

As we stood about 20 feet away, the sirens suddenly went off and the ambulance raced to the scene. A paramedic vehicle followed right behind. Curly was terrified and I pulled him up into my arms. Gamer reached for him and put him up on his shoulders. I placed a protective arm around Scout and reached for Sport’s hand. Bossy made similar moves with her kids. The paramedics jumped from their vehicles and began attending to the "victims." Cars along the road bunched up, with drivers craning their necks to see what was going on. Never in my life had I been so close to that kind of action! Even though I knew it was all pretend, tears crowded my eyes as they threw a sheet over the girl on the ground and then another one over the boy on the hood of the car. 

 A policeman pulled out the female driver and administered the sobriety test. She failed miserably and was eventually handcuffed and placed in a squad car. A couple of paramedics used the "jaws of life" to rip the doors off the car and extricate the driver of the second vehicle. Suddenly a woman ran from the crowd as if she were the mother of one of the victims. It was terrifying to watch her break down, realizing that this kind of accident could have involved my kids. 

Suddenly we heard the LifeFlight helicopter. It circled once and then landed right there in the parking lot. The wind threw small rocks at us because we were so close. We huddled with the kids until the blades stopped chopping. The paramedics loaded one of the victims onto a back-board, and wheeled him to the helicopter. The winds picked up again as it quickly took off. We just stood there, looking at each other. Some random grandma gave Sport a hug. I was stunned at my own reaction. It brought back imagined images of my own little Princess being loaded into a helicopter just like that one. It also brought up another image of Gym Rat who took a similar ride. I’ll tell you that story tomorrow. 

**Editor's Note:  Silly Mom, she wasn't even around when Princess was loaded onto LifeFlight. (Mom said: That doesn't mean I haven't seen that scene a thousand times in my head.) I remember it clearly.  As the helicopter landed it blew all the fresh snow from the rooftops and lawns onto the street.  A man-made blizzard.  I remember watching the perfect whiteness fall and knowing that everything was going to be okay.  And then the bright red helicopter jolted me back to reality and I saw tiny Princess looking like a doll on the adult-sized board.  Even knowing today was a staged training and demonstration I had a large lump in my throat watching that teen loaded into the helicopter.  I am glad I have several years before my boys learn to drive.

Thank you Smith's, local law enforcement, MADD, SLCO Health Department, Utah Highway Patrol, and the city council for putting on a great event! 

Princess's Miracle

I squinted at the gray screen, trying to make out the tiny arms and legs as the doctor expertly pointed to each appendage. The year was 1997 and I was only 8 weeks pregnant, so determining the sex was out of the question, but I was thrilled to see the tiny heart pounding out a snappy rendition of Jingle Bells. ‘How appropriate,’ I thought. It was Christmas Eve, and I could think of no better gift than seeing the gift of life on my doctor’s computer screen. As my sweetie and I hurried from the doctor’s office, the cold clear air sent us quickly to the car. We had a little last minute shopping to do, so we headed into the heavy traffic of downtown Salt Lake City.

Not any of my babies.

We drove several blocks to the nearest strip mall. We wanted to get home to the kids so that we could spend the afternoon together. Bossy was 13 and certainly capable of babysitting her five siblings, but still, we didn’t like to be away too long, especially on Christmas Eve. We made our way through the store, looking for something to fill the blanks on our shopping list. Before we had time to find anything suitable, my cell phone rang. I pulled it from my pocket and punched the button. "Hi," I began. I knew it was the kids, because no one else had that number.

My eleven-year-old Gym Rat was hysterical. "Calm down," I nearly shouted. "What’s wrong?" I heard Bossy grab the phone. She was sobbing, "I’m so sorry, Mom…Princess was in the tub…she turned blue…she wasn’t breathing…." What was she telling me? My sweet, blond 15-month-old girl was where? My hands were shaking so badly I nearly dropped the phone.

Suddenly, a soothing voice of one of South Jordan’s finest came on the phone. "Ma’am? Listen to me." I tried to calm down. How could I be calm when they were telling me I’d just lost my baby? "Are you alone?" "No," I managed to choke out. "My husband is with me." "We want the two of you to drive carefully to Primary Children’s Hospital. Where are you?" he questioned. "We’re downtown," I managed. "We could be there in just a few minutes." "Settle down and drive slowly. We’re bringing your baby in on Life Flight. You’ll get there before we will."

That trip to the hospital was the longest one I have ever taken. I screamed, I cried, I tore my hair. Why did we leave her home? When we finally arrived, I was in total meltdown. Princess was not at the hospital yet, and no one knew anything of her condition. We waited for about 30 minutes before we heard the helicopter.

Moments later, we were allowed in the emergency room. Our little Princess was bloated and covered with wires and tubes. She was ice-cold, but she was breathing. Yes, she was still breathing. Our next-door neighbor showed up about the same time we did and he gave her the most beautiful priesthood blessing. Like her ancestor I told you about yesterday, that blessing appeared to make all the difference. She was transferred quickly to the pediatric ICU and hooked to all kinds of monitors. The doctors sat down with us and told us to be realistic. They didn’t think she would die at this point as long as they could warm her up carefully. The first 24 hours were critical, but if she made it through, we still had the possibility of brain damage or even physical damage. I didn’t care, I hugged her as carefully as I could, kissed her, and sobbed her name. She was still alive, and I could think of no better gift than to see the gift of life on the PICU’s monitors.

We sat with her most of the night. We couldn’t touch her because it modified her temperature. I’d never felt so helpless in my life. My grandmother came to stay with our other children. They all agreed that Christmas would wait until our little Princess could come home and share it with us. The morning’s trip to the doctor and our wonderful news of the successful ultrasound for our seventh child seemed a lifetime away.

Christmas morning dawned beautifully, even for us in the PICU. Other parents were there, sharing Christmas morning with their sick and dying little ones. Santa Claus came and brought some gifts and candy, and I couldn’t help wondering if our Princess would ever be able to play with the little stuffed animals or eat the gingerbread. Toward noon, our doctor came in to check on her. We were all exhausted and hoping for good news.

She was still under anesthesia and full of tubes and wires. Her tiny face was swollen from the IV, a respirator covered her mouth and nose, and the heart monitors dotted her little chest. The doctor picked her up and stood her right up on her feet. She moaned and opened her eyes. The doctor paused for only a moment, then he said with conviction, "She’s going to be fine, but plan on her being here at least a week." We were thrilled. No one knew how long she was under water, and with the risk of infection, she could have stayed at the hospital for weeks with respiratory problems or pneumonia.

We are all glad she is around.

Forty-eight hours later, Princess was ready to go home. It was nothing short of a miracle. Christmas morning dawned bright and early for us on December 27, 1997. The sounds of paper tearing and happy voices were never more appreciated. Princess sat weakly on my lap and carefully opened her packages. I gave her a little squeeze and blinked back the tears. I could think of no better gift than to see the gift of life…our little Princess, wrapped in her warm quilt from the hospital, snuggled in my lap on Christmas Day.


**Editor's Note: I'd just like to add that it is because my mother believes in scouting that Princess is here today. If I had not been through the CPR/first aid certification I wouldn't have known what to do when the Gym Rat pulled Princess from the tub. I had him call 911 while I started CPR. It wasn't until the paramedics were sending us to the neighbors house and I knew I had to call Mom that I became hysterical. Scouting is an excellent program and I strongly encourage anyone who babysits to become CPR certified.**