Don’t Mess With Marci

 

 If the world could only have one Marci Ann Walton, I will be forever grateful that our family was the one blessed enough to have her.  There’s not a person in our family that hasn’t been affected by her.  She absolutely does not allow you to take yourself  too seriously. 

One lunch time when she was about five, Marci, Jamie, and I were sitting at the table.  Marci had been talking about people’s names.  Then she asked me very thoughtfully, “Mom who were you named after?  Were you named after a star, a flower, or . . . a Q-Tip? 

One time Marci and Jamie were sitting at the kitchen bar eating lunch before Marci went to kindergarten.  As Jamie looked at Marci’s red cup, she said to me, “I don’t understand why Marci loves red so much . . .” To which Marci responded, “I don’t like red.”    Jamie reasoned with, “You ALWAYS choose the red cup.”  To which Marci replied, “Well, that’s because it’s my favorite color.”  Jamie looked at me, shook her head and said, “She’s weird.”

One afternoon I was walking Marci to the bus stop and we realized we were kind of late.  We started running up the hill and Marci said, “I hear the bus! . . .   or else it’s birds chirping.”   “Those sound just alike, don’t they Marci.”  And she was sure they did. 

She might’ve been number six in the family and way younger than her bigger brothers, but somehow she has this innate sense of how to keep those older guys in line.  One day I was making bread, and as I was pulling the dough out to make it into loaves, Marci begged me for some dough.  I gave her a little wad to play with.  She did everything she could think of to it and left it in quite a disgusting state until she saw my pile of lentils sitting there waiting to be washed and cooked.  She shaped the dirty dough into a cookie shape and then put little lentils all over it and surprisingly, it looked exactly like a chocolate chip cookie.  Unsuspecting Dallin walked  in from school right then as Marci was  standing there holding her  cookie.  He stopped  long enough to ask for some as he put it into his mouth and she was surprisingly willing to let him.  He took at least half of it in one big bite and for once Marci didn’t scream that she’d been robbed.  Well, I just have to say that the face he made as his taste buds went into hysteria was what has been referred to as one of those Kodak Moments.

One morning I was doing something in the kitchen and Marci was sitting at the bar.  She says, “Mom, what happens if you don’t like the guy at the temple?  Do you slap him?”  After trying to figure out where in the world she was coming from, she told me she thought I found Jim at the temple and that I loved him and said to him, “Can you marry me please?”  (I’m quoting her) and “that I took his hand and kissed it.”  She thought that some day she would go to the temple and see someone there and have to marry him.  Well, I tried to set her straight.  Somehow she remembered that I had punched someone, but I explained that it was someone that had tried to kiss me and not someone that really liked me or that I liked. 

Here is a page out of Marci’s journal that she can use to keep Devin in line:   (bottom paragraph)

Translation: 

“Right now Devin has a brush and is constantly brushing his leg hairs.  Mom saw him and said do you need my curling iron?”

 

Good luck, Marci.  Nobody ought to be able to mess with you after living with these guys for so long.

Knife Thrower Extraordinaire with Character Plus

This handsome young man is Darren and my first inklings of how exciting he was going to make my life as a mother came when he was not even 2 1/2 years old.  One day I set him on the kitchen counter as I bent to pick up something on the floor.  I have never been able  to come up with a reasonable explanation for what he did next, but he picked up a steak knife that was just sitting there and threw it -- just missing my head.  It was close enough to give me a buzz as it went by, but thankfully, I kept my ears.  Several days later I was upstairs changing Aubrey’s diaper and I heard him saying, “Is that Daddy’s?  Is that Daddy’s?” as he came up the stairs.  He finally made it in to the bedroom carrying my big butcher knife/cleaver that must weigh about 2 pounds.  I had visions of him dropping that monstrosity and amputating his own foot.  Where did this ongoing fascination with knives come from?

His unlimited imagination and creativity extended into every area of his life.  When he got mad at someone, he preferred to make up his own bad words, and his favorite at  this age was “Splatty face.”  

His creativity came in handy when a neighbor of ours gave us some beautiful strawberries that he just loved, but were causing him some trouble allergy wise.  I didn’t want him to have anymore that day, so he comes up with, “Mom, I want some oatmeal (which he knew was OK)  with some strawberries -- WITHOUT the oatmeal. And I am sure that to his way of thinking, he was sure that  I would think that was a great idea.

A little later, Darren had been asking for some corn nuts.  I was sitting at the table eating some granola “so I wouldn’t throw up,” and Darren says, “Mom, I think I’m going to throw up.”  “Oh, then I better not give you corn nuts if you’re going to throw up.”   “Well, actually, I’m not going to throw up until Tuesday . . .” 

One day I was working on dinner and Devin and Darren were near me at the kitchen table talking.  I wasn’t really paying attention to their conversation until I heard them both trying to come up with the right words to a song they must have been working on in Primary.  Darren says, “Devin, I think it goes like this, “Reverently, Quietly, give a little clap.”  Then Devin says, “No, no, no, Darren, I think it goes like this,” and then totally off key sings, “Reverently Quietly, Help me find my melody. . .”  Whereupon Darren says very excitedly, “Oh yeah, that’s how it goes!!!”

Every family needs a couple of clowns.  We filled our quota and then some. 

One day when Darren wasn’t quite three, he and Dallin were standing in the bedroom comparing belly buttons, and Dallin brags, “Darren, my belly button is bigger than yours,” and Darren very graciously says, “THANKS, Dallin!”  Dallin just stared at him not knowing if he won that little contest or not. 

The kids were all sitting at the breakfast table around this same time and Darren said something that upset Dallin and Dallin said, “Darren’s lying.  Darren, you are lying.”  “No, I not lion.  I  a hummingbird.”    It was always hard for Dallin to argue with Darren because Darren always made him burst out laughing.  Things haven’t changed much.

One last little tidbit on Darren.  Jim took Darren to BYU-Idaho one year for EFY.  After helping him get his stuff to his dorm, they explored the campus.  Jim said they were walking through the Manwaring Center (the equivalent of BYU’s Wilkenson Center) and saw a hallway with the portraits of all of the Homecoming Queens of past years.  As they walked along looking at them, they came to a portrait of a Homecoming Queen from  the 70’s, and Darren asked Jim, “Did they pick them by their character?” 

Devin: A Man For Many Reasons

 

I guess it comes from going through old pictures and journals.  Some of the neatest people I know grew up in our house and as I read about them, I find myself laughing and crying as I remember raising these little squirts.  I find it so interesting that they really don’t change all that much.  They definitely grow up and develop, but some very basic characteristics I noticed in them when they were born  confirm to me that they didn’t come as blank slates—they spent a long time before this life growing, learning, progressing, and becoming who they are.

This is Devin and just one of the things that I have most appreciated about  him is his tender heart and his tendency to be a peacemaker in the family.  Any time his Dad told a joke that made everybody at the table groan, Devin was always sure to say, “I love you Dad,” to make sure that his Dad didn’t get his feelings hurt. 

One afternoon before Devin turned three, he and Dallin (4 years old) had been playing and Dallin hurt Devin.  I had Dallin go sit on the stairs and take a time-out.  He hated time-outs, but he went and sat there.  Devin HAD been crying, but not two minutes later I found him sitting on the stairs WITH Dallin, helping him make it through his time-out and they were both laughing.  The buzzer went off a couple of minutes later to end the time-out and they both asked me to “set it for longer, we’re not ready to get off yet . . .” 

One morning about this same time I called to Devin and asked him to come downstairs.  He cheerfully called back and said, “Coming Darling . . .”

Devin was also born with a very logical mind and with an unusual ability to reason.  He, like Jamie, thrived on logic puzzles, math puzzles, and anything that challenged his mental capacities.  A creative imagination was not one of his strong points, however.  There were times that this became obvious  as the kids played.  When Devin was 3 1/2, he and Dallin were playing in the family room with the blocks.  Devin was explaining to Dallin what the things were that he had built.  They were driving their little matchbox cars around and Dallin’s car was standing at the gate to this enclosure of Devin’s.   Dallin wanted to drive his car in and get some ties to wear.  Devin told him no, that Dallin needed to go to the dress place because,   “this is a ZOO.”  Dallin said, Well, so just change this zoo to a dress place . . .”  Devin was very disgusted and told Dallin, “It’s not magic, Dallin.  I just can’t change it, I just can’t say, “Alaka Poof . . .”

One morning when Devin was five, I was standing at the kitchen sink peeling potatoes and Devin was sitting by himself at the table, eating something.  It was quiet and I heard, “Good.”  After awhile Devin says, “You wanna know why I said, ‘Good,’ Mom?  “Well, I swallowed this big thing and I can still breathe. . .”

 

Devin ALWAYS has a smile—which would be lovely unless you were cast as the villain in a 5th grade Shakespeare play.  Even after his  sword fight to the death, he lay there on stage as a grinning corpse.

Don’t let that big smile and innocent looking face of his fool you though.  He’s still full of it.  Yesterday morning early,  his  dad dropped him off at the Greyhound Bus Station down in Tacoma, where he was to take the bus to Pullman, Washington, to spend the week with Dallin.  A little later, I got a call from Devin telling me that he needed to be picked up because he had missed the bus.  My heart dropped before I remembered that Jim had already e-mailed me a picture of Devin standing BY his bus.  It’s a good thing he was out of my reach.

This week is Spring Break, and with Nathan, Marci and Jamie up at Troxel’s, and Aubrey at work all day, that would’ve left Devin home with just me and that wasn’t too appealing.  Dallin heard about his plight on Sunday and invited him up for the week.  He’s planning on visiting some of Dallin’s classes, possibly his ROTC class and then Institute, where Dallin is taking “Dating, Courtship, and Other Dangerous Activities.”   When I talked to him last night, he was helping Dallin with Math.  Talk about Fun.

Generally Speaking, It’s About Jamie

  

This is our baby, Jamie.  She’s changed a bit since we took this picture about 10 years ago when she was three, but in reality, Jamie is still very much Jamie.  Somehow, the veil didn’t get drawn quite as tightly over her when she came to earth and it’s almost as if she remembers how to do everything from before.  One afternoon while Jim and I were gone somewhere, Marci was riding her bike and Jamie got tired of trying to follow her around on her tricycle.  She asked Marci to show her how to ride a bike,  got up on the bike seat while Marci held onto the handles for a few minutes, then just started riding.  When we got home and Jamie told us she wanted to ride a bike, Jim went to the garage to get the training wheels.  When he came back out, Jamie was riding around the cul-de-sac without them.  It was the same with learning to read.  She somehow just did it—overnight – by herself.

She didn’t even have a hard time breaking her arm.  Ever heard the expression, ‘It’s as easy as falling off a log?”  Well, that about says it.  She fell off the couch--while Jim and I were in the temple—and we were summoned out of the temple session -- to talk to the fireman who had her in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

She has her own brand of logic and she’s not afraid to use it.

One evening when Jamie was 4, she and  Marci and I were sitting on the couch while Devin was close by in the kitchen struggling with the dinner dishes.  I told Marci to be a good big sister and go help him.  Marci says, “I’m NOT a big sister.”  Then Jamie says, “Well, I’M a good big sister, but I don’t listen to my mother.” 

Just a couple weeks later on a Sunday afternoon, I was so sleepy, I told the kids I wanted to take about a 20-minute nap, and to please try and keep it quiet.  Several of the kids came in to ask me something just as I was falling asleep, and I was about to give up.  I finally fell asleep, and in comes Jamie, shakes my shoulders and whispers, “Mom!  Mom!  Will it wake you up if I turn on the water to wash my hands???” 

 

These are my favorite Halloween costumes that happened out of desperation and necessity when I was totally unprepared and we just had to wing it.  The kids got more comments than they ever did with costumes we spent more time on.

One Monday night after Family Home Evening, for some reason which I can’t remember, we were having our family scripture study.  I had  experimented earlier in the day and made a new Family Night dessert that the kids were very anxious to try.  Jim must have become too involved in the scriptures for Jamie’s comfort, because right in the middle of a verse, she quietly walked across the room to where Jim was reading on the big couch, put her hands on his knees, looked right into his eyes and whispered a very intense and precisely enunciated, “
”WHY DON’T YOU STOP.” 

 

And here she is:  All grown up and saving China and among many other things:  Our More-Fanatic-About-BYU-Sports –Than-Even-Her-Dad- Ward- Choir- Accompanist- and Runner-up-in-the Seattle Flute Society’s 2009 Horsfall Competition—Jamie Lynne Walton.

 

The Incredibly HOT-Troxel-Rod

 Meet Jarin and his new buddy, “Sparky.”  He made the over hour-long-drive through Seattle traffic last night to come and visit.  I’m sure he wanted to see the whole family, but somehow he and Darren got occupied doing things they love to do – like back flips all over the place, throwing the football, forgetting dinner and Frosty’s at Wendy’s.  I can never see Darren and Jarin together without  thoughts of ONE POUND OF BACON and flying knives.  Whatever they are eating or doing when they are together, it is always better if there is a pound of bacon on it or a knife through it.

 

 Jarin let Darren take “Sparky” for a spin, and then took a real chance on letting his Uncle Jim have at it.  You can just see Jim’s second thoughts on giving it all back up.  He was gone long enough that Jarin should’ve been worried that he would ever see it again—And how do you get your new leather coat off a 50-somethinger without inflicting damage?  Good thing Jim had a meeting he was nearly late for. . 

“Attaboy Sparky.'”

Gold and Green Ball Bitterness

Just the other day Aubrey mentioned that this weekend was the Young Single Adult “Gold and Green Ball.”   Did that ever bring back some memories that I shouldn’t be old enough to have, but unfortunately do.  This impressive picture comes courtesy of our high school newspaper.

I was a sophomore in high school.  One evening in March, someone rang the front door bell.  I imagine it took all six of us girls to answer it, and since normally only home teachers and Avon ladies used  that door, we were understandably stunned  to see that it was a new guy in the stake who was a Senior with – a mustache.   For the sake of the story, let’s call him Bob.  He asked me to the Gold and Green Ball that was coming up in our stake and like the socially competent person that I was, I left him standing outside the door,  and said , “Just a second, let me go ask my Mom.” 

I have this blurred memory of a VERY long night with me in a long white and hot pink  paisley cotton dress, wearing a corsage, and sitting on my hands as we sat on the chairs around the edge of the dance floor, so envious of my friends who were there and having fun dancing with all kinds of guys and not fighting off their very own octopus with a mustache. 

The  final memory of my infamous first date is riding home in his car, nodding off in the front seat, only to jerk awake when the little white rabbits in my dream started hopping across the hood of his car.   I never went out with Bob again.

 

“Hail, Hail, The Gang’s All Here” or as Darren Would Say . . .

Quite unexpectedly, all the little chickens that had flown the coop in February came back to roost for a few days this past week.  We took advantage of the sunshine and the one free morning that all ten of us had and took off for Twin Falls.  We decided to try AGAIN for a family picture AND to keep my blood pressure stable at this point, I will not go into our previous failed attempts – one that even included a photographer with equipment.   You can’t tell, but we are in the middle of a river in this shot, and Jim and I are precariously kneeling on the back end of a big boulder.  It took a little time for some of us to make our way over from the shore before we were all situated, and Darren was elected to be the one to push the timer button on the camera, leap from rock to rock and dive for the boulder before the timer went off.  I’m downright proud of my little chicken turned mountain goat. 

Just for a little better perspective, this was our view from the boulder where we were perched for the picture.

Because this was a sunny Saturday in March, we weren’t the only family with the great idea to hike to Twin Falls.  The distance we had to park from the trailhead was a hike in itself, but with so many fabulous people to talk to, no one seemed to notice.

How many teenagers and college students do YOU know that still play Duck-Duck-Goose while waiting for the more mature members of the group to use the facilities before they head out for the trail? 

But then again, does this look like your typical college student? 

The game is called, “Pooh Sticks,” and you are looking at some of Winnie-the-Pooh’s most loyal fans.  Darren’s “stick” is a little bigger than the ones you can almost see the others holding, and the object of the game is to drop your stick on one side of the bridge and see whose stick will come out under the other side of the bridge first.  We happen to be standing over one of the falls, so those sticks did some tumbling before they finally popped out. 

Waiting for the winner.  Surprise, surprise.  The guy with the biggest stick wins.

Twin Falls – well, at least one of the twins.  The other one is underneath us.

Lest you be deceived by appearances.  The happy faces are not because of the strenuousness of the walk, or the altitude:  notice the tripod in Jim’s hands -- the Phamily Photo Phanatic, aka “Mom,”  has called for another group picture.

Then there are those who can create a little excitement with just their bare hands.

And others who just ignore incoming fists and requests for group shots.

We’re about to have a “moment” here.  Hang on.

If you know your Disney movies, this scene on Pride Rock comes from “Lion King” where Simba is being presented to the rest of the animals.

Jamie got a picture of Darren and Richelle’s new home.  They just need furniture and curtains.

But when you’re in love, who’s worried about furniture. . .

Let’s call it a “wrap” and go home. . .

“Who’s Nathan?”

It’s about time we talked about Nathan.  This is one misunderstood guy.  He has more nicknames than I’ve got wrinkles, but they were mostly bestowed upon him by his older brothers who haven’t used his real name since some time before coming to this earth.  They keep him around for laughs.  Nathan is just full of it and his random comments have a tranquilizing effect on the more aggressive tendencies of his brothers that have spared him plenty of the battle wounds he might otherwise have had to deal with.

Nathan is taking a Driver’s Education class right now from a guy who runs his own business and does absolutely everything.  Nathan said he is rather intimidating, strict, and very much tattooed.  He drives a Mercedes which he had outfitted with the brake pedal on the passenger side.  This teacher  takes his business pretty seriously.  Just today,  Nathan was driving me through a residential area when we came to an intersection and when he didn’t come to a rolling near-stop like I usually do, I asked him if he didn’t need to do that, and he matter of factly says, “Mom, this is an uncontrolled intersection -- you cover your brake and scan.”  Since I didn’t understand half of what he said, I just nodded and smiled.

  A couple of weeks ago they took the mid-term exam in class, then each test was given to someone else to correct.  After the exams were corrected the instructor walked around the class and checked each exam.  Everyone in the class watched as he circled something then slashed something else – it was the same motion on every paper: squiggle – slash, squiggle - slash  and every single paper was getting a big fat F.  He got up to the front of the class where this Korean girl  was sitting and was amazed to see just one solitary exam that passed.  The Korean girl holding the exam looks around the room and says, “Who’s Nathan?” 

 

Tender Mercies

This past Friday night, Jamie and Marci had their yearly flute recital – and I actually tried to see if I could get a 20-second clip of each of them onto this blog, but as you can see, I didn’t get very far.  Anyone can handle 20 seconds – it’s the two-hour recital you may feel fortunate you didn’t need to attend.  One girl’s song was 13 MINUTES long.  Jim started timing each piece -- It seemed to take his attention away from a certain troubled area of his anatomy.  Well, this afternoon they went to flute lessons at 1:30, where they each have an hour lesson.  Their teacher, then drives the girls to a church for the flute choir rehearsal  which they have  once a week from 4:30 to 5:30.  The building is locked up tight and their teacher has a key and the girls have to be let in with the door locked behind them.  When they finish choir, there are usually a few girls that poke along putting their stuff away and it takes awhile to get out of there.  But tonight for the first time, they all packed up quickly and even Devin was there to pick them up on time as Jim and I were at the temple.  As their teacher left and was driving away to take one of the girls home, she passed a bunch of police cars and emergency vehicles with their sirens screaming going the way she had just come.  The news just reported that a man inside the same church we’d just left had shot and killed a woman minutes after the girls all left.  The woman hasn’t been identified yet, but it’s possible they were there for counseling and the man was her husband.  I, for one, am very grateful that the girls weren’t still in the building like they usually would’ve been.

Secret Competitions and Strange Combinations

Dallin, our other breed of “Cougar,”  is home from WSU in Pullman for his spring break this week and things ALWAYS  get more interesting when he is here.  He likes to make things happen and isn’t content to just sit around like some others in the family might be, but is constantly organizing different activities.  There is another benefit to having him around.  He’s good for a dozen or so hugs a day, and he doesn’t just stand there and hug me, he scratches my  back at the same time.  Oh my.  I have two spots on my back that are always in need of a good scratch, and it’s like heaven to get some action there.  Last night as he was giving me this blessed hug with all its perfectly placed scratching, he tells me that he has finally figured out why I never wanted a dog:   too much competition. 

Marci likes to create,  and one area that gets some of her attention is the kitchen -- she makes chocolate chip cookies that are my idea of perfection.  But she also isn’t afraid to try things that are a little more “out there.”  The other night, she came upstairs to tell me about her latest experiment.  She had been hungry for a treat and decided to try something different.  She described how she had taken a flour tortilla and covered it in peanut butter and then jelly and then folded it like an envelope and toasted it on the griddle.  Then after a thoughtful pause, she very enthusiastically told me how it tasted “JUST LIKE a flour tortilla spread with peanut butter and jelly and folded like an envelope and then toasted on the griddle.”  Amazing.