Miracle Baby

Before I go on to tell about our "miracle baby", a few more memories of our time in Novato have come floating into my mind. It was here that we made one of our first big purchases, a piano. Music has always been important in my life. I have never been blessed with musical talent, but I have always had a love for and an appreciation of good music. I had always wanted my children to have the opportunity to develop any musical talent or interest that they had. Debbie had continued on with her ballet lessons in Novato and showed real talent. Now we started Jeanie with piano lessons.
It was a part of one of our Family Home Evenings that we made paper mache puppet heads using balloons for the mold. We painted faces, added yarn hair, and made clothes. Jim even built us a stage with curtains and lights. When I was the public safety chairman for our school's PTA the older children and I put together a little safety puppet show for the children at the school. The characters were school children, a policeman, and a crossing guard. I don't really remember the story line only that it was to teach children safety in coming to and going home from school. Speaking of school, I'm sure Jeanie, Debbie, and maybe even Kathi (I think she was only in kindergarten at the time) remember the "rod" method of teaching math that surfaced at this time, and the questionable value they had in Dad's mind. That technique didn't last too long.
Because of Jim's job as a field engineer with the responsibility of teaching military personnel he had the status of an officer on base with all it's accompanying privileges. These included the use of the officer's club and swimming pool. I was able to take the children to the pool any time. They loved it! I think more than loving the pool, they loved the snack bar next to it.
Now let's talk about that miracle baby. I guess I have to begin back in Klamath Falls right after the twins were born. Although we wanted at least one more child in the future, my plate was pretty full right then. So we decided to try the brand new birth control pills that had just been introduced. And wouldn't you know, I was that one in ten thousand (or more) who had a negative response. The pills threw me into pre-mature menopause and I stopped ovulating. (I hope I'm not making any of my readers uncomfortable by talking about such a personal subject). The only good thing about that was that I also stopped menstruating. The doctor said that without a reversal I would not be able to have any more children. I was devastated! I remember telling Jim (my husband) how awful it would be to have our son Jim grow up in a house full of girls without a brother. I will never forget his wise words, "If that is the worst thing he has to face in his life, he will be one lucky guy." I'm sure that was supposed to make me feel better, but it didn't.

Now fast forward five years to Novato, California. It is 1965, five years later. The twins have started kindergarten, Jeanie is in fifth grade, Debbie in fourth, and Kathi in second. I have long since reconciled myself to the fact that we would be forever a family of seven. I hate odd numbers! I never wanted to have an odd number of children. It should have been four, or six, or even eight. But not five. But I had no choice. That was until Jim was called to be the Elders Quorum President of our ward. I went with him to be set apart by the stake president, and I confess I wasn't listening as close as I should have to the blessing which he bestowed upon Jim as he was set apart. But on the way home, he said to me, "Did you hear what President Allred said in his blessing?" I had to admit that I didn't know what he was referring to. He answered (and I'm paraphrasing), " He said that the deepest wishes of our hearts would be realized." I didn't know what Jim's deepest wish was, but mine was to have one more baby.

Nine months later on Sunday, March 20, a son was born to us, weighing in at 9 lbs. 2 oz. We felt it fitting to name him John (Jon ... Jim insisted on dropping the the "h" ) which means "Gift of God". He was truly our special gift from God. The doctors couldn't explain how this was possible, but we do. He was truly our "Miracle Baby".

And I was happy. We now had an even number!

More Memories of Novato

The nearly five years we spent in Novato holds many special memories for me. Here are a few that come to mind.

• Watching the twins grow up. Twins have a totally different way of maturing than a single child. It was fascinating to watch. They were best friends and never needed any one else to play with. They developed their own language which only they could understand, and communicated with others when necessary by pointing and sign language. I learned a little of their language, but others couldn't understand a word they said. This was a problem when they were nearing kindergarten age and we wondered if we should hold them back.
• The trauma of disposing of Jimmy's (what we called Jim Jr.) "blanky". Jim loved his blanky, especially the silk binding. He would stuff the whole corner of it in his mouth and chew on it. I had to keep replacing the binding because it would become so stinky and worn. The blanket became smaller and smaller as I kept cutting it down to replace the worn part. One night when we were barbecuing with charcoal in the back yard Jim was standing there watching, blanket in hand. Daddy said to him as he took the blanket from his trusting hands, " I wonder what would happen if we put your blanket on these pretty red coals. Little Jim looked on with horror as his precious treasure go up in flames. No more "blanky".

• Jimmy deciding he wanted to find out what smoking a cigarette was like. Dad obliged by bringing home a pack of cigarettes, lighting it up for him, and watching him put it in his mouth. It was when Mom told him to suck in like using a straw that we saw the reaction that cracked us up. I'll never forget that look on his face as he choked, turned green (almost) and began running around the house ... the outside of the house. He made several round trips before he finally stopped. I don't think Jim ever tried smoking again.

• It was here that we received the news of President John Kennedy's assassination. I remember I was shopping for Christmas, and had just purchased a large stuffed bear that came with a little cub in its' paws. I just knew Deborah would love it. Then the news came over the loud speaker of the store. It's funny what we remember when traumatic things occur in life.
• Adding on to our small church building, the work being done by members of the ward. Jim spent many hours up on the roof of that building. But it was so nice now to have a real chapel with permanent benches, and a separate cultural hall.

• Putting on an original children's Christmas play based on the the story of "The Little Drummer Boy". I talked my my friend, Betty Schmidt, who was a gifted writer to use her skills to come up with this cute play for the Primary to perform for the ward Christmas Party. It has since been performed by several other Primarys in other stakes. I still have a copy of that play.

• Special friends, Wanda Dunn, Lorna Burdette, Irene Laycock, and Betty Schmidt.

• Jimmy and Shelly starting kindergarten even though no one could understand them. We took them to a specialist to make sure they didn't have a learning disability that coused their speech problem. We were assured that as soon as they were split up by placing them in different classes, and with some speech therapy, they would do just fine. It only took several months of therapy and being around other children and they were talking like any other five-year-old.

• Lots of fun church activities.

• Some "not so fun" Officer's Club parties that we were obligated to attend. We once won a prize for the couple that seemed to be having the most fun. Actually we were the only ones who weren't stoned ... and we were great actors. Our prize? ... bottle of liquor.

• Making one of the most important family decisions of our lives - committing to having regular Family Home Evenings. We were motivated by the words of a prophet which were in the introduction to the new Family Home Evening Manual we received. These words were: "If fathers and mothers will faithfully discharge the responsibility of Family Home Evening, not one in a hundred of your family would ever go astray." I liked those odds, I liked that assurance, and I was willing to do my part receive that promised blessing. FHE became, from that time on, a top priority in our lives.
• Being named Novato's "Mother of the Year" in 1966.

• Being blessed with our "miracle" baby, Jon, that same year. More about this miracle and special blessing in my next blog.

Wake Up And Smell the Roses

I’d like to fast forward forty-six years for this blog because of the significance of an event a week or so ago that has had a definite impact on my life … an impact in the sense of how it has changed my perspective on what is really important and the changes I need to make in my life even at this late date. Two weeks ago I had a TIA (mini-stroke) that landed me in the hospital for three days. It wasn’t serious … no brain damage … just a real wake-up call. These kinds of strokes can be pre-cursors to future more debilitating or life threatening ones. I, as was everyone who knows me, was taken totally by surprise. I was advised by my doctors to make some life-style changes … reduce stress, lower blood pressure by losing weight, exercising more, using less salt, etc. etc. You know the drill. These things I am starting to do. But the most important thing I plan to do is to look at my world through different eyes.

I was inspired by the following true story that appeared in our little local newspaper, The Loop:

“On a cold January morning in 2007, in a corner of the Washington DC Metro station, a young violinist took up his instrument and began to play. Just like any other street musician, he opened his violin case in hopes of tips. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes and during that time, approximately 2,000 People went through the station. Six people stopped to linger and listen for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk at their normal pace. Several children stopped to listen, but in every instance, the parent pushed the child to move on. For his morning concert, the musician collected $32. After the hour was over, the young man stopped and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded. Unbeknownst to the DC Metro patrons, the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the finest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written on a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before, Joshua Bell had sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100. (If you’ve ever seen the movie, The Red Violin, Bell is the soloist of the soundtrack. He was only 18 at the time!) Joshua Bell playing incognito in the Metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people’s priorities. The question raised: in a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? “

This experiment reminds me of the trite proverb: “stop and smell the roses”. But “over-used” as that statement might be, it has a whole new meaning to me. I have come to realize how fragile our individual mortality is. None of us can know when or how our Father will call us home, and when we face our maker I can’t help but wonder if one of the questions He may ask us is, “Did you take time to appreciate and enjoy the beauty of all the things I provided to make your journey on earth more peaceful?” I know now that I will be able to answer, “Yes! Thank you!”

The Church is the Same Wherever You Go, Only Different

Having grown up in Salt Lake City I was used to our many church buildings being being only a few blocks apart and they were all complete buildings with a chapel, cultural hall with stage, multiple classrooms, junior Sunday School room (Primary was during the week)and offices for several bishops. It had been a little different in Klamath Falls where there were fewer members and only one church building. But that building was a complete complex with the same chapel, cultural hall, etc. that we had in Salt Lake. But when we moved to Novato, we were surprised to discover that our building had only one large room that served both as the chapel and the recreation hall, maybe a half dozen classrooms down a single wing, and a bishop's office ... even though we were a ward and not a branch. Because the large room had multiple uses, it was necessary to have folding chairs which were placed in rows on a cement floor for sacrament meeting. There was no carpeting in the building. As you can imagine, it was a bit noisy. Because there was no custodian for the building, the cleaning was done by assignment to families. Our little family spent quite a few Saturdays cleaning that little building. It was at church that I discovered that one of our close neighbors was a member. I was excited about that. And even more excited when I found out that she had two teen-age daughters that were more than willing to babysit. Loved it!!

As is usual, especially when a ward is small, we were immediately given callings. I was called to the Primary as a teacher of the Firelights, who were the 10-year girls. The nine, ten, and eleven year old girls were then collectively called the "Merry Miss" girls. The nine-year olds were called "Gaynotes", the ten-year bolds, Firelights, and the eleven-year olds, "Merryhands".

Not only did this group of girls learn the Articles of Faith, work to fulfill a number of other requirements each year, but also learned simple embroidery, knitting, and crocheting. I had only been working in this assignment for about a year when I was called to serve as a counselor in Relief Society. That was a real surprise ... but I guess not really ... because my LDS neighbor,

Dunn, and I had become good friends when she was called to be Relief Society president. But I was still in my twenties, and that is pretty young to be working in what I saw as the Church's organization for "old ladies". I felt pretty uncomfortable accepting that calling, but how could I turn down my good friend? Turning down the Lord didn't even enter my mind at that time.

Once I began learning what my duties and responsibilities would be in Relief Society, I kind of figured out why Sister Dunn wanted me in this position. The organization and assignments of the different members of the board differed greatly than today. Part of my job was to organize the nursery and find a suitable leader. This was a paid position and the one holding it did not necessarily have to be a member of the church. Since there was no manual for lessons and activities, part of my job was to write the lessons and discussions, provide pictures and teaching aids, find organize activities and crafts, plan and bring the snacks, etc. I had to do all this in more detail because the teacher we had was not a member. I had to write all the dialogue she should have with the children to reenforce the lesson. It was a big job for me. As I think about it now, I should have saved all those lessons plans. This was the first of my many many callings in Relief Society. Except for a few short stints in Primary, nearly all of my responsibilities in the Church throughout my life have been in this organization.

All was going well in Novato. We were enjoying our new friends, our children had adjusted well to their new school, Jim was enjoying his work at the base and we loved going there to swim at the officer's club anytime we chose. Then came a real shocker!

And Then There Were More ... Frogs, That Is.

The scenario of frogs at our new location continued on when the girls discovered that rocks next to their sandbox was home to a bunch of adult frogs. It didn't take them long to figure out that by spraying the rocks with a stream of water from the hose the frogs would hop out of their safe seclusion right into the hands of happy waiting playmates. The frogs soon had names and elaborate tunnels and "buildings" built in the sandbox for their "enjoyment". The kids spent hours playing with their frog friends in that sandbox. When the play was over for the day the frogs were gently returned to their home in the rocks. While I'm on the subject of frogs, I'll fast forward to the next spring when we realized what a real plague they would become. We woke up one morning to discover thousands ... yes, I truly mean thousands, of tiny little frogs covering the street as far as you could see, and just as many hopping all over the grass in the front yard. This went on for about a week. You couldn't drive down the street without running over hundreds of frogs, and when you tried to mow your grass, you had automatic fresh red fertilizer for your lawn. It was HORRIBLE! After that first year frogs just became a part of living in Novato and was no big deal ... especially since they became the kids' favorite playmates.

The children also enjoyed opening up big cardboard boxes and using them to slide down the hill behind our house. We had easy access to that hill because we had a gate in the backyard fence. The boxes slid easily over the weeds on the hill especially in the fall when they would dry up and become even more slippery. All the kids in the neighborhood would join in the fun.

Another playmate was added to the family when we bought a Collie puppy for the children. I have always loved Collies, I guess a carryover from my childhood when Lassie was a favorite movie star. For those too young to know about Lassie, she was a Collie dog who was the hero that always saved the day. When we saw a sign in the neighbor's yard, "Collie Puppies For Sale", we just had to go take a look. It happened that the dogs were all pedigreed with papers so that made them very expensive. We just couldn't put that much money into a dog, But when the owners saw how disappointed the children were they told us that one of the pups had "droopy" ears instead of the straight "perky" ones that tipped over at the top. They told us that even though this defect could possibly be corrected by taping round rods in the ear to hold them up as the ear grew, it made this puppy less valuable than the others. They said we could have the dog for "$50.00, a bargain we quickly accepted.

In order to register a dog with with the AKC it had to have three names. Since we had the pedigree papers for our puppy we decided to go ahead and register him, even though we knew he would never be used as a show dog or for breeding. He was just to be the family pet. We names him Prince Cooper of Lynwood ... "Prince" because that was the name we planned to call

him, "Cooper" because that was the last name of an astronaut who that year was the first to circle the earth in a spaceship ..., and "Lynwood" because that was the name of the tract that we lived in.

Once through that puppy stage, Prince became a beloved member of our family for about thirteen years. He loved and protected the children, and was their constant companion and playmate. They could sit on him, tease him while he was sleeping, take toys away from him and he never even growled his displeasure. When the twins were old enough to play outside he would walk along side of them and not let them into the street. He was big enough to just push them away from the road. Once he even chased a motorcycle that had frequently been racing down our residential street, scaring the children (he was not a car chaser) and tried to bite the rider. The rider kicked at him and swerved his cycle so that it would hit him. His hip was injured which resulted in his having arthritis there as he aged. He was so lonely when the kids were gone for more than a day that once when we returned home we found that he had opened an unlocked sliding glass door, gone to Jeanie's room, removed a stuffed cat that was made of real rabbit fur, and took it outside with him. When we returned home we found it between his front paws with his head resting on it. He was one special dog, even if he once he opened that same sliding glass door and ate an entire gingerbread house that we had just purchased for Christmas. He didn't even get sick! That's what we get for leaving that door unlocked once we knew he could open it with his paw.

There were more special lessons we learned during that four years we lived in Novato. We made some of the most long-lasting friends there and experienced one of the first of several real miracles in our life. More to come.

Frogs, Frogs, and More Frogs!!

As we walked closer to our motel room door with its' overhead light, we could see what had been moving in the dark. It wasn't just a thing. It was many "things" ... many, many, many things. I felt like I had just walked out into one of the Moses' plagues in Egypt. There were frogs everywhere ... hopping up and down the sidewalks, in the grass, and in the parking lot. The kids were ecstatic. "We need a bucket, we need a bucket", were the simultaneous cries. Fortunately we could not find a bucket or anything else that could hold a frog, but promised the kids we would see what we could find in the morning. By morning, most of the frogs were gone, but enough remained that we were able to capture a few for the girls to "observe". We were soon to find out that frogs would play a big part in our children's lives.

Our first concern after arriving in Novato was finding a place to live. After searching a few days were able to find a house which we could purchase without a down payment using our G.I. bill ... a benefit program that was available to veterans of the Korean War. The house was in a quiet little isolated subdivision containing only a few streets entry to which was by way of only one of the streets. The best part of this choice was that the grade school was right at the entrance to the area ... a short and safe walking distance from our home. The house was an Eichler designed building, recognizable by its large ceiling to floor windows. These windows comprised two walls of our living room. The kitchen was small but had a DISHWASHER, my first ever dishwasher. I really didn't care that there wasn't much cupboard space because it had a DISHWASHER! There was a small dining area off the kitchen, and there were three bedrooms and two bathrooms (another first). The best part was that there was a bathroom right off what would be the girl's room which had a door that lead to the back yard where the girls would spend a lot of time. The back yard had been divided into several planter boxes with rock pathways between them. One of these boxes we turned into a sandbox. In the corner of a the yard was a rock "wall" which I think at one time must have been a small fountain and water fall. A sliding glass door between the dining area and the living room lead to the side yard where there was a nice patio and grass area. On the other side of the house was the sidewalk

that led to the front door, and a small slope covered with ice plant. All you could see from the street was the garage because the rest of the house was secluded behind fences on both sides of the garage.

This was the first home that we had lived in that was OURS. And, my first thought was to decorate it the way I wanted. The house came with white drapes that covered those two windowed walls of the living room. We had bought our piece of new furniture in Klamath Falls which was a white Naugahyde (imitation leather) couch. With all that white, I knew I needed some color. All the floors throughout the house were asbestos tile, pretty common back then. There were no carpets. The first thing we purchased was beautiful bluish green tweed, wall to wall carpet for the living room. Then I purchased blue and green pillows for the couch. My creativity then kicked in and I decided to make planters to go on to of the bookcases that were built half way up the wall on both sides of the white brick fireplace. The fireplace and the bookcases comprised the whole far end wall of the room. Dad built the metal planters and I covered them with blue, green and white Mosaic tile. When filled with silk greenery, they really added to the beauty of the room. My next purchase was a large gold sunburst clock which I hung over the fireplace. I just loved the way it all turned out. I felt that this house was now really my "home".

Novato??? What the Heck is Novato?

Things got a bit easier as the twins grew big enough to sit and play in a borrowed playpen. They seemed happy to just sit and play together with their toys unless, of course, they both wanted the same toy at the same time. Jeanie and Debbie were now both in school for part of the day, and Kathi was still taking an afternoon nap which meant that, if I was lucky, the twins would go to sleep at the same time, and I could have an hour or so all to myself. But I'm sure that time was not spent taking a nap myself. There were other things I'd rather be doing than sleeping.

As I look back now at the Easter picture of my five little treasures all sitting together on the couch dressed in matching homemade dresses (and little suit for Jim), I wonder how on earth did I have the time to make all all those clothes. They were not simple dresses, either. Each dress was made of a different colored gingham check with a white pinafore over it. The pinafore was trimmed in matching check and had matching little flowers which were hand sewed on each pinafore. Each little girl had a matching gingham-covered head band except Shelly (as we called her) who had a matching bonnet. I made little Jim a blue gingham romper with a white vest and I purchased him a little boy's hat. I have to admit they looked pretty cute. But I still can't believe I had the time and patience for this project that now looks HUGE to me at age seventy-five. Oh, to be young again! I guess I know now what I did with that one hour or so that I had to myself each day.

It was the spring of 1962, when Jim received a notice of transfer from his company. We were to leave that summer for his new assignment to Hamilton Air Force Base in Novato, California.

I had never heard of Novato before, but was told that it was in the northern part of the state in between San Rafael and Santa Rosa. It was a good time to move because of the summer break from school and after looking on a map, it seemed a favorable place to be going. I had never been to that part of California, and that would be new adventure. We would be close to San Francisco with its' cable cars, China Town, and the Golden Gate Bridge. That was all exciting to me.

The company packed us up, and put all our things in storage until we could find a place to live. We stayed in a motel while looking. But it was that first night's stay in the motel that excited the children SO much, but scared me to death. As we headed toward our room that first night, it was getting pretty dark. Suddenly I saw things moving on the sidewalk ... lots of "things". I stopped dead in my tracks and the girls started squealing. What kind of town were me moving to?

More Challenges With Twins

It didn't take long before I realized I had new problems to solve having two babies. Without any of the new "necessary" baby equipment that is available today (carriers, newborn seats that can be moved around the house, "bouncy" chairs, swings that play music, bath equipment, etc. etc.), I had to be innovative or just plain frustrated. How do I have the babies in the same room where I was working, especially the kitchen, when they were awake. There was no place to lay them. The only way we had to set the babies down was to prop them in the corners of the couch and put a pillow in front of them so they wouldn't fall over.

And what about bath time? Since we had both babies on the same schedule, they both were bathed at the same time. Where would I lay one screaming baby while the other was being bathed and dressed? The only safe place was in the crib in another room which made for an even more unhappy baby. Daddy came to the rescue by building a double decker changing table which we placed in the kitchen where I bathed the babies in the sink. It was ingenious. I could lay one baby on the lower deck while I bathed the other then dressed her/him on the upper deck and visa versa. There was a shelf below the lower deck to hold diapers, clothes and bath accessories. It was GREAT!!.

Next problem: How do I get out of the house to take the children for a walk or to make an emergency trip to the grocery store. It was still summer and Jeanie and Debbie were still at home. We only had one car which Dad took to work. I had only a single stroller so I would have to push with one hand and carry the second baby in the other. But then how could I hang on to the other three children, especially the three-year-old. Imagine this sight: Me, holding a baby and pushing a stroller, a small child hanging on to my skirt, and two others holding hands and walking in front so I could see them. I'm sure I was a sight to behold. After one of these exhaustive trips to the store, and coming home in tears, I KNEW I had to have a double stroller no matter what the cost. Tears worked on Jim when he came home from work that I day and a twin stroller was ordered from the Sears catalogue, the only place that they were available. Even though the stroller was SO welcomed, it presented a few problems of its' own. The double seats were side by side, which made it very wide and hard to maneuver through single doorways of homes or stores. Yes, I wanted the stroller in the house at time just to have a place to set the twins so I could do other things. But the positive far outweighed the negative, so I never complained.

As that first fall and winter approached, and the weather became colder (even freezing), hanging the "massive" amount of laundry outside became a real problem for me. I couldn't drape washed clothes over the furniture to dry like I used to do in Utah. There was just too much. An automatic dryer now became an absolute necessity in my eyes. Money was still tight, but somehow we managed a monthly payment on a new dryer. What a blessing!

One more thing that was so difficult for me was bedtime without the help of Jim three or four nights a week. He would leave right after dinner to teach classes or take care of church responsibilities. Often that would leave me with dirty dishes in the sink, two crying babies, three little girls needing baths, teeth brushed, and story read before going to bed and one tired, frantic mom to deal with it all. Enter the picture my saving angel, Cheryl. Cheryl was a teenage neighbor girl whom we only knew by name. In desperation one bad night I called her on the phone and asked if I could hire her to come over and help me out. She came. She turned out to be one of those rare young adults who could see what needed to be done without being told and she just pitched in. She would pick up and soothe a crying baby, put the girls in the tub, wash a sink full of dirty dishes, play with or read to the girls, or whatever she saw was needed at the time. She was an answer to my urgent prayers. From then on, all I needed to do was call, even on a moment's notice and she was there. I wouldn't have survived those first six months without her. And she would never take a penny for her services. She was not a member of the Church, but she could have been the perfect role model for what we would like all of our young women in the Church to be. We kept in contact with her over the years and were thrilled to hear years later that she had joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. We were not surprised.

We survived the first year by:

1. buying a second crib when the twins got too big to sleep in the same crib

2. buying an Osterizer to make our own baby food when we realized how expensive it was

to buy ready-made food for two growing babies.

3. buying a new car, a VW bus, to accommodate our growing family.

4. teaching our three younger daughters to assume more and more responsibility

5. ....and nearly adopting Cheryl to be our personal "Nanny". She was truly my buoy in

stormy weather.

Happy Homecoming. A New Challenge Begins.

Three excited little girls welcomed home their new siblings, Jonita Rochelle, and James Richard Jr., We felt so blessed to be able to bring them both home on the same day. We were well equipped with the basic necessities for two newborns because of the "twin insurance" offered by Sears Roebuck and Co. If you had previously ordered a baby layette through their catalogue they would add a second comparable layette at no charge should you have twins. When the doctor confirmed that I was going to have twins, I quickly ordered the the largest layette in the catalogue. Holding true to their policy, Sears sent me a second one, the same as the first.

Once all of the girls had had their turn holding and gently caressing each baby, the initial excitement was over. Then reality quickly sent in. I had breast fed each of my preceding babies "on demand" and I planned to do the same with the twins. I had been assured by the nurses in the hospital that it was indeed possible to nurse two babies, and they even tried to show me how to feed them both at the same time. What a joke! I knew it would one at a time for me. But about this "on demand" thing became another joke. I soon found out that all I was doing all day was feeding babies. I tried to keep a record of who ate when to help me remember how often each of eating. This was just not working. With Jim's insistence we decided that the babies would be put on an eating schedule ... OUR schedule and that they would both eat at the same time, hungry or not. I think Jim was tired of hearing one or the other of them crying all night. That worked a lot better, even if it meant waking them up to eat. They soon adjusted to the schedule. However, this was the first time I had to depend on Daddy to help with the night feedings. I would feed one for a while, hand it to Jim to burp while I fed the other and then repeat the process. We both looked forward to the time when they would sleep through the night.

The other thing that became a challenge was the LAUNDRY... piles and piles of LAUNDRY!

There was no such thing as disposable diapers back then, and try to imagine doubling the amount of clothes that a baby can go through in a day. Now imagine laundry for three little girls and a husband added to that. And now imagine doing it all without a dryer. Everything had to be hung out on a line to dry. Then there was the folding of all those diapers and tiny baby clothes. My engineer husband invented a whole new way to fold diapers that made it easier for me to rinse out before washing. (Ask me sometime and I will show you how if we ever go back to cloth diapers.) I was grateful that we had at least an automatic washer, and I was even more grateful when Grandma Knapp came to help out for a while. I think I would have had a breakdown without her those first few weeks while I adjusted to my new busy life.

On the rare occasion that we took all of the children out for an afternoon, usually on Saturday when Dad was home to help, it was amazing how many people would stop us to see the twins.

They would see me carrying one and Jim carrying the other (no twin stroller) and would guess they were twin. Although one was always dressed in blue with a blue blanket and the other in pink with a pink blanket, it was even more amazing how many would ask if they were identical. Jim's sarcastic remark would always be, "No, one's a boy and one's a girl." Even then some would look a surprised by that statement and one even asked, "So what difference does that make? They still can be identical." I guess????

So began my life with five children from six years old to newborn, no family nearby, and a husband that was gone three evenings a week teaching, and another night at Mutual where he worked with priests.. I was pretty much on my own.

Out of the Hole!

It's time to get out of the negative and return to my happy life. It's been a tough two months dealing with my depression problems, but I feel I am now out of that deep black hole that only you who have been there can understand. Have I learned from this experience? Of course. Although I know that clinical depression is an illness similar to diabetes in that both are caused by a lack of certain necessary chemicals in the body to make it function properly, I came to realize that I have to have better strategies for handling stress in my life. Life is not without stress, but since too much of it can trigger an onset of major depression in those of us who suffer with with this mental illness, we have to avoid what we can and learn to deal with it in better ways. That is what I am focusing on now, and it has helped. In thinking back over the last six months or so there has been constant stress with no "recovery" time that led to my melt down. There were Jim's two knee surgeries and recovery times, Christmas (always somewhat stressful but manageable, and fun, if by itself), taking care of grandchildren (a little stressful because I realize that I don't have the energy, patience, and joints that I used to have), Mother's Day, (I've already explained that) and the then the "straw" that finally broke the camel's back (an old cliche) ... being called as Young Women's secretary. I had no idea of the responsibilities this calling required nor was I familiar with the "new" Young Women's program. I hadn't worked in that organization since I was in my twenties. AND I had always said that a secretary was one position I hoped I would never have. I just do not like a lot of paper work . Now I was faced with a stack of forms I needed to sort through, new forms to create on the computer and a lot of neglected records to update. I think it was all the computer work that got to me most ... computers and I do not have a very good relationship. All of this stress brought a "MELT DOWN", the like of which I hadn't experienced in years. None of these things by themselves would have caused a problem. It was just that they all followed ... bang, bang ... one after another without any recovery time.

Okay, I said I was going back to the positive, and I can do that now. With the help of my Savior and some conscientious effort on my part I am out of that hole and doing just fine. I'm eating better, trying to get more exercise (the hardest part since I our pool closed), getting more sleep, changing my priorities, and learning new ways to better handle stress. And would you believe I actually love my new calling? Now that I'm better organized, have all the necessary forms on the computer so I just have to fill out and update them (I can do that without Jim's help) the burden I was feeling has been lifted. I've gotten to know all the girls personally, and they are really great! I'm beginning to feel less and less like a fish out of water. I have a lot more self confidence. And I feel the girls have accepted me ... maybe even like me. It feels wonderful.

It would be neglectful of me if I did not say how grateful I am to my wonderful eternal companion who was and is so patient and understanding when I have an episode like this. He is the one that takes a lot of abuse and neglect, but somehow stays calm, patient, supportive and loving. I love you, Jim.

My next blog, back to my life story, "Three Little Girls Welcome Home Their New Siblings".

Sorry for this long "sidetrack".

Digging my hole deeper

I imagine that for most mothers Mother's Day is a favorite holiday. It would mean a day off from regular household duties, gifts, and maybe even breakfast in bed, that is if you have a husband like mine. He has always gone the "extra mile" to ensure my day would be special. That included making (yes, making) carnation corsages and boutonnieres for me and the children ... white for me and him and red for the children. A Mexican tradition designated a white flower if your mother was deceased and red if she were living.

So it would seem that I would love and look forward to Mother's Day. But to the contrary I hate that day. It may seen a little extreme to say "hate", and I guess it is. I guess "dislike" would be more accurate. "Why?", you ask. There are several reasons. First, I am uncomfortable being the center of attention and having others serve me. I'm a "dyed in the wool" Martha. I am much happier doing things for others than the reverse. Second, I don't need a special day to feel loved or appreciated. I have always gotten that from my children and husband all year round and often in spite of my not being the best mother in the world. I have always felt loved. Third, I hate the commercialism of the day. It really bothers me that the world dictates that to show love you have to give gifts. I hate for anyone to feel like they HAVE to give me a gift just because it's Mother's Day, my birthday, anniversary, or whatever, I'd much rather "feel" their love all year, and I do. The best gifts for me are the lives that my children live ... and a card with a sweet remembrance is also special.

But perhaps the strongest reason for my dreading this day is because it brings back discomforting memories that I have tried to put behind me over the past fifty-five years. I thought I had succeeded until this year. But I think because I was not my best self this year, suffering from a bout with depression, those memories crept back, just making me feel worse. What was that memory that has had such an effect on me the past fifty-five years? It dates back to our wedding day, Thursday, May 13. I never dawned on me until a year later that Mother's Day is always the Sunday after our anniversary. That meant that Mother's Day would have been the Sunday after we were married, and I guess I was so preoccupied with being a newlywed that I didn't go see her, send her gift, or even a card. I was oblivious to what day it was. And this was her last Mother's Day on earth. She died in October. I have felt terrible about that even though I know she would have understood why my mind was elsewhere that day. I know that Jim didn't remember his sister-in-law, Jean, either, who had been a mother to him for over six years. This year, that memory came back again with more than the usual amount of pain and that didn't help the depression. I was struggling to keep myself from crawling into that hole that I had been digging for myself. But I was determined not to let that happen. But there were still challenges that I needed to conquer.

The Long Climb Up

It's hard to know where to begin.   I realize how long it's been since I dumped my feelings of stress which was bringing me down to that dreaded depression to which I am so susceptible.  I realized that God much have known what was ahead for me when way back in March, maybe even in February, Cathy (Mortensen) called and asked if I would like to go to Women's Conference with her at the end of April.  I had told her definitely, "Yes", and Jim immediately made all the reservations for us both,  including our flights.  The conference was just a week after I received the call to Young Women's.  This gave me a chance to get away and "regroup" and hopefully get myself more spiritually prepared for what lay ahead.

As I mulled over the long list of available classes I started to gravitate towards those that were intended for the teenage sisters thinking that they might help me better understand the problems and challenges of young people today.  Surely that would help me in my new calling.  But then I thought, "No.  I need to take classes that would strengthen ME."  That was the right decision.  The whole spirit of the conference was very uplifting, and just being with so many special sisters and listening to the church leaders who spoke really gave me the spiritual boost that I needed.  But the two classes that helped me the most were, "Happiness is Our Heritage" (happiness is difficult, if not impossible, to find when you are depressed) and "Then Will I Make Weak Things Become Strong" (I was really feeling my weaknesses right now) taught by Brad Wilcox.  I came back renewed and ready to face the challenges which were before me ... or so I thought.  Then came Mother's Day.

The Ups and Downs in Life

I thought I might divert from my personal life history for a minute since I have my twins home safely from the hospital and I didn't leave everyone "hanging" in my last blog.  The past few weeks have been a series of ups and downs, highs and lows, and just plain crazy.  I feel that my expanding on a few of these feelings and emotions may give my readers some insight into my nature, personality, and thought patterns.  I know that some of the things I have experienced the past few weeks have led me on this the roller coaster of emotions.

     I think it all began when I was called to be the secretary of the Young Women's organization in the church.  I was not excited about this calling.  I never wanted to be a secretary.  In fact I had said all my life that I never wanted to be a secretary of ANYTHING. I didn't like to do the work a secretary is required to do nor did I have the skills to do it.  And that was before the days of computers.  That made it even worse as computers and I do not have a very good relationship.  To top it all off, I hadn't worked in Mutual (that is what it used to be called) for fifty years, and was only vaguely familiar with the new program.  I had worked in Relief Society most of my life with a few breaks to work with the Primary children.  I was very comfortable there even when it required a fair amount of work.  But I accepted the calling mostly because the new Young Women's president was one of my favorite people, we have been counseled by our leaders to never turn down a calling.  Just to let you know, I have not always followed that counsel.  I have turned down a few callings.  

  

     Then came the flood of forms, reports, documents, rolls, budgets, birthdays, e-mails, records of all kinds to keep track of, agendas to prepare, minutes to take, phone calls to make (I hate to make phone calls), lots of computer work including using the church computer to pull up records, keeping track of Personal Progress records, meetings and more meetings ... the list goes on and on!  I felt totally overwhelmed and drowning in paper work.  And then there were the doubts that a 75 year "old lady" would ever be able to relate to today's teens.  The last secretary was a young woman who is just expecting her first baby, and the girls loved her.  She was really involved personally with the girls.  How could I compete with that?  The stress just got worse and worse and I felt depression coming on.  Stress is a known trigger for depression even for someone like me who is on medication for clinical depression (lack of certain "feel good" chemicals in the brain).  Even though I received encouraging and supportive words from my family, I still felt like was sliding down a very slippery hill.

This was the beginning of the downward spiral.  Then came an "upper" which made me realize that God had been aware of this challenge I would have months before it actually came and had prepared a plan to help me through it. 

A Miracle

     The joy of having twins was shattered when the pediatrician came in the day after their birth to tell me that our little girl, Jonita Rochelle, which we had named her had a serious heart problem.  There was a hole in her tiny heart.  He had called in a heart specialist who observed her since the day she was born hoping that the hole would close on its own as if often does in new infants.  But on the second day the hole was still there and was located in a place that rarely if ever closed on its' own.  We were informed that she would need surgery to close it.   I was devastated!  Jim called the Bishop to help him give a blessing to our little Rochelle.  After the blessing the Bishop started a phone chain of members of the ward to call a special fast in her behalf.  

     The following day I was to be released, taking home our little son, James Richard Jr.  Rochelle was to remain until a surgery date could be scheduled.  I was surprised to see the heart doctor come in my room when I was expecting my OB doctor to come in sign the release papers.  When I saw him my first thoughts were that something bad happened to Rochelle and I was terrified.  What a shock it was when he said, "I have examined the baby very thoroughly this morning and I can find nothing wrong.  The hole is just not there."  He said how shocked he was because he had never seen such a large hole in that part of the heart ever close on its own.

The best news that he give us was that Rochelle could go home with her brother today.  We later learned from one of the nurses who was there when the heart specialist examined her that morning that the doctor had whispered under his breath, "This is impossible!  If I believed  in miracles this would be one."  Well, doctor I do believe in miracles, and you've just seen one. Only you just don't how and why it occurred. 

To this day Rochelle has shown signs of a heart disorder.  Now it was home to introduce these two new additions to the family to their three sisters

I just have to add one more thing about my "sensitive" and "loving" obstetrician.  The day after the twins were born he came into the room, threw some papers on my bed, and said, "These are your exercises you are to do every day beginning right now in bed.  And don't think I won't know if you have been doing them when you come back for your six week check-up.  Right then I hated that man, but when I was able to put on all my pre-maternity clothes within a week I changed my mind.  Of course since I had only gained 23 pounds and the babies weighed a total of almost fourteen pounds, I didn't have too much to lose.  But I have never felt greater after giving birth than I did right now.

 

Just When You Think All Is Well

I arrived at the hospital at about ten in the morning as did another of my doctor's patients...and the race was on.  I handed the admitting nurse the card with the scribbly  "Z" on the back as instructed by my doctor over a month before.  I now realized that that "Z" was really a coded "2" so that the nurses would be alerted to the fact that I would be having two babies.  I hoped that this information would give me priority over the other "in labor" patient.  I was wheeled to a labor room and informed that my doctor had not yet arrived, but not to worry.  They assured me that he would be there in time to deliver the babies.

An obstetric nurse listened to the heartbeats of the babies through my bulging belly and asked if the doctor had predicted the gender.  I had asked him but he wouldn't even give me an educated guess.  The nurse said,  "Do you want to know?"  I answered, "Sure".  "Well, the bottom one is a boy and the one on top is a girl."  She didn't even add, "I think."  She seemed so sure that I thought that should make a bet with someone ... maybe my uncertain doctor.  But I didn't.

Both of us  pregnant women were now in serious labor.  The nurses kept running back and forth to our two rooms to see who should be wheeled into the only delivery room of the small hospital first.  The doctor arrived and made the decision.  I should go first.  The first baby, a boy, was delivered very quickly, and while one nurse wrapped the baby in a blanket, the two other nurses immediately began running to the door to wheel the waiting patient into the delivery room.  The doctor yelled, "Wait! there is another one!"  I guess not all the OB nurses had been informed of the multiple birth.  The second baby did not come immediately as expected.  There was a problem.  She, (yes it was a girl as the nurse had predicted) was not in position to be born and had to be turned.  That was not easy.  It took seven additional desperate minutes for our little girl to be born.  They immediately wrapped her in a blanket and whisked her away.  I didn't hear her cry, and that really worried me.  To be honest, I never even gave a thought to that poor woman waiting in the hall to deliver her baby.  For all I know she gave birth in the hall without a doctor.  My only thoughts at this time were the well-being of my two precious little ones.

Our little boy weighed in at 7 pounds, 3 ounces while our baby daughter weighed 6 pounds, 8 ounces.  It was no wonder I was so uncomfortable those last two months.  It was like having two normal sized babies crammed into a space meant for one.  But that meant they were big enough to come home with me in three days (the time that all new mothers were kept in the hospital at that time) ... or at least that is what I thought.  I had had a chance to hold and feed the babies the day after their birth and they were so beautiful and looked so healthy.  But later that day a pediatrician came into my room to inform me that one of the babies had a pretty serious problem.  My heart sank! 

  

Twins? You've got to be kidding.

     I wasn't too fond of my obstetrician.  He didn't have much of a bedside manor with his patients.  On a scale of 1 to 10 I'd say he rated a low 2.  But I guess he didn't have to have a great re pore with any of us because there was no other choice.  He was the only OB - GYN in Klamath Falls and had all the patients he could handle.  If you didn't like him the only other choice was to go to a general practitioner.  While I was waiting in the waiting room one day, I saw him walk up to a patient who was eating a candy bar, grab it out of her hand, throw it in the trash, and walk walk back to his office without saying a word.  We all got the message.

     He never said much on my monthly visits other than, "Everything is just fine.  You are right on schedule."  He was a "stickler" on weight but never had to scold me those first months because I wasn't gaining any weight.  I was too sick.  But when I began feeling better, the weight went on and my tummy got big...FAST!  On my seven month visit he handed me a business card and said to take it to the hospital when I went.  All that was on the card was his name, address, and phone # like any regular business card.  On the back he scribbled something that looked like a lower case "z".  I didn't question him about the card ... just tucked it away in my purse and forgot about it.

     By my eighth month visit I had only gained 17 pounds, but I was HUGE.  I couldn't drive the new VW bus we had purchased because I couldn't fit behind the wheel. (No adjustable seats.)  I just knew the doctor had figured the due date wrong and I asked him about that at my next visit.  Then as kind of a joke I added, "or I'm going to have twins."  I had never seen that man smile until that day as he said, "Yes you are".  He then said, " I have suspected it for a while because I thought I had been hearing two heart beats, but it is easy to be hearing the front and back of the same baby.  But today the heart beats are at different rates.  There are definitely two."  (No ultra sounds back then.)  He told me that twins usually come early so expect them at any time.  At that same time he told me not to gain any more weight because I had developed toxemia which can worsen when you gain weight.  So here I am, expecting twins, having only gained 17 pounds and I can hardly eat anything.  This was CRAZY.  But I was too scared of my doctor not to do what he said.

     The next weeks were horrible.  I looked like hot air balloon.  My maternity smocks wouldn't cover the big cut out in the front of my maternity skirts. (No stretch panels) I had to hold the smock down when I walked in public.  I remember telling Jim that he didn't have to walk next to me because I was sure he must be embarrassed just being seen with me.  I slept sitting up on the couch because I couldn't breathe if I lay down.  Judy, Jim's teen-age niece came from Salt Lake to be there to help me when the twins came home, but after two weeks and no babies, she had to return.  It was now only a week before my real due date and I was still waddling around home ... and I mean WADDLING!  "Twins come early?"  Right!!

     It was four days before my actual due date that my water broke and I headed for the hospital.  But wouldn't you know that at the same time I arrived at the hospital, so did another of my doctor's patients.  Now the race was on.  Two women in labor and only one doctor and one maternity team of nurses.  Which one of us would the doctor choose?

 

A New Year's Eve to Remember

It was New Year's Eve!  The weeks of preparing for the joint adult and Young Men, Young Women dance had culminated in a space theme celebration.  Since both Jim and I worked in the youth program, we had a major part in the planning and decorating for this event.  We had had a rocket and satellite building contest a few weeks before which provided decorations which we hung from the ceiling.  In today's vernacular, we would say they were "awesome".  We covered the walls with scenes of sky and clouds to provide a feeling of outer space.  We had worked very hard, not only on the decorations, but to prepare special refreshments for the evening.  We really hadn't had time to recover from the stress of Christmas before we had to jump right into the dance, so we were pretty tired when Christmas Eve arrived.

The dance was a success.  Jim actually danced more than one dance.  Those of you know my sweetheart know that he hates to dance.  That's just one (but not a very important one) of his flaws.  I love to dance.  He used to say that I could have one dance a year, and that was it.  I don't think I have averaged even that over our 55 years of marriage.  I KNOW I haven't.  Anyway... as you all know, the responsibility of cleaning up after an event usually falls on the same people who have done all the work setting up.  Such was the case this night.  All ;of a sudden, as I began to help, I began feeling really ill.  I thought all the hours I had spent in preparation for this night had finally caught up with me. I just couldn't do any more.  I curled up on a couple of chairs at the side of the hall and waited for the others to finish.

I still felt sick the next morning when I woke up ... and the next ... and the next.  Only now I REALLY felt sick.  I couldn't keep anything down, not even water.  I finally made an appointment with the doctor to get some help.  Well, you guessed it, I was pregnant.  (So much for the predictions of my last doctor who said I would likely not be able to have any more children.)  I had never been this sick with my other three pregnancies. The only thing that would stay down was black tea, which my doctor (the only OB-Gyn. in town) insisted that I drink to keep from dehydrating, and an occasional dry cracker.  That was my diet for the first three months.  I tried other foods, and I'm sure I did get some nutrition from the few that stayed down, but not much.  I lost a lot of weight those first months.  I remember how hard it was to take care of the girls when I was so sick ... and so tired.   How I wished I lived closer to family at this time.

The whole family was excited about having a new addition to the family, but none of us was prepared for what happened next. 

The Move Into Town

Klamath Falls was not too big years ago, so there wasn't a big choice of rental homes.  We were anxious to get settled before school started in the fall.  We had enjoyed our little home  in Wocus and had made new friends.  But it was just to far out of town.  I felt a little isolated out there without a car to go anywhere.  And we did need to be closer to a school.  We finally found a small home which just happened to be across the street from the elementary school.  It had three bedrooms, but the layout was a little strange.  Two bedrooms were to the front of the house and the third was in the back, kind of isolated from the others.  We decided to put all three girls in one bedroom and use the third as a playroom.  That worked well.  The house had a big back yard with a plum tree which was another plus. (I'm not so sure that plum tree was a plus once it started bearing fruit.  The fruit seemed non ending.)   I began making Jeanie clothes for school.  It was nothing but dresses because girls were not allowed to wear pants to school.  I still remember the three dresses I made ... a red two-piece skirt and top, a blue print dress with white trim, and a green paisley print with a white collar and a big bow at the neck.  Yes, she got by with three dresses for the whole year which meant she had to wear the same dress twice during the week.  And would you believe she never complained even once?  I don't think any kid in the school even noticed.  Clothes just weren't that important back then, at least to kindergartners. We started Jeanie and Debbie in a dance class and both seemed to enjoy it.  It was fun to watch them both perform in their first recital.  They did "good"!  But Jeanie's interest soon waned, but for Debbie it was the beginning of her love of dance which would continue for the rest of her life. Both Jim and I received callings in the Church, Jim as Explorer leader the the young men's program, and I as a counselor in the Young Women's.  It was my first and only time in my life working in that program.  It seemed from that time on it was Primary and Relief Society for me. It was at this time that I experienced a miscarriage.  I was in the early stages of pregnancy so it wasn't as devastating as it could have been.  But what WAS devastating to me was that the doctor said I would have trouble carrying any more babies because of a physical problem that had developed.  When he saw how upset I was about the prospects of not having more children, he agreed to do a procedure that he thought MIGHT help. I remember Jim being furious about the way the doctor had so insensitively the doctor had told me the "bad news" that he marched into his office and confronted him with, (I'm paraphrasing) "How dare you say that it is unlikely that my wife will probably have no more children.  You're not God!  It's not in your hands."  Those of you who know Jim can just see him saying something like that.  I was a little embarrassed because I knew the doctor was just stating a medical fact as he saw it.  Even though he could have been a little less "factual" and a little more sensitive, he was just doing his job as a doctor.  There was no way he could have known how important family was to us. The best part of moving into town was that I was now able to walk to a real grocery store when I needed something, and I could even walk into "downtown", if I wanted to walk about a mile dragging along three little girls.  I only tried that a couple of times and only when I was desperate for something that couldn't wait until the weekend, usually some sewing item that I needed.  Back then all stores closed at five or six o'clock, so no shopping in the evening when Dad was home. We had now been Klamath Falls for a whole year as January, 1961, rolled around.  This would be a "red flag" year for us, one that would bring about major changes for the whole family.

draft

Elephants In The Back Yard

One of the first things we did after moving to Wocus was get a dog.  The children had wanted a pet for some time, but living in apartments made it impossible.  We rescued a small shepherd mix from the local pound, and he became an instant friend to the children...me, too.  I  have always loved animals, any animal, but especially dogs.  From this time on it seems we always had pets of some kind.  Each child had his/her favorite.

Some  of my favorite memories of that little house in Wocus:

• Heating for the house that was in the baseboards of the rooms.  After scorching several long curtains I realized it had to be short curtains ONLY.
• Having missionaries to dinner for the first time.  I really stressed over that for some time.  I wanted everything to be so perfect...all done at the same time, all hot when it got to the table and served on time.  I soon found out that missionaries don't really care about any of those things.
• Catching my dress on fire by sitting on the hearth of the fireplace.  I loved to sit there on cold winter days because it was so warm.
• Seeing Jeanie who was going on five have the courage to walk to the little store near our house by herself to get something for me.  (It was safe back then, and I would watch from the corner while she went and came back.
• Matching Easter dresses for the girls and me on which I spent hours appliqueing  and embroidering roses all down the front.  (I must have been a little crazy or I must have had too much time on my hand.  I can't imagine that with three little girls to take care of.  But again I guess that was possible since I was pretty much stranded way out there with no car to get anyplace.
• Elephants in our back yard.  Yes, that's right...real elephants.  A highway ran in front of our little street and one evening a circus truck tipped over right in front of our street.  It was carrying elephants who had to me rescued from the truck.  The handlers drove the frightened animals to the open field behind our house until a rescue truck could be sent.  They put chains around their ankles (if elephants have ankles) and connected the chains to long metal stakes which they drove into the ground.  The handlers tried really hard to control the traumatized elephants but they would rock back and forth, pulling on the stakes until they would pull them right out of the ground.  The kids were just enthralled by seeing those huge animals up so close.  We realized, however, that it was not too safe being so close considering the way they were acting.  So it was in the house to watch out the window.  I'll bet every one of the girls remember the "elephants in the back yard."
  

We didn't stay in that house too long.  We soon realized that it was just too far out of town.  Jeanie would be starting kindergarten in the fall which meant she would have to ride the bus.  I wasn't even sure they had a bus that went out there, and I had no other way to get her there.  And since I had no car, I wanted to be closer to stores that I could walk to.  So we began house hunting again on the weekends.   

Welcome to Oregon

It was dark, cold, and snowy when we pulled into the small town of Klamath Falls, Oregon.  I had been sick the week before we had to leave California and was now sporting a huge cold sore which covered my whole upper lip clear up to my nostrils.  I was pretty miserable.  To top it off Kathi, now just a year and a half old,  got really sick on the way.  She was running a fever and throwing up every few minutes...at least it seemed that often.  So it was a great relief when we saw the lights of the city come into view.  We checked in at the first motel we could find, tired and ready to crash.  But Kathi's temperature continued to climb and she looked SO bad.  I began to panic because we didn't know who we could contact this late at night.  Our only option was to try and find a hospital with an emergency room.

The doctor on call took one look at her, touched her forehead then admitted her to the hospital.  They immediately connected her to an I.V.(she was dehydrated), and tied her hands to the side of the crib so she wouldn't pull it out.  It just killed me to see her cry and struggle to get free.  She just kept looking at me with those "help me Mom" eyes and all I could do was rub her little forehead and talk to her.  It was one of the most stressful times of my life.  

I stayed at the hospital all night while Jim stayed with the children at the motel.  Kathi was released after two days in the hospital, but the doctor looked at me and said, "You should do something about sore on your mouth.  It looks infected."  He recommended a doctor who took one look at me, soaked a gauze pad some sort of antiseptic, and just wiped the whole scab off my lip.  I now had this huge open sore that kept bleeding and bleeding. It did eventually heal, Kathi recovered, and we began looking for a place to put down roots.

We settled into a small house in a community called Wocus on the north end of town.  It was a cinder block house (one of about a dozen) with a large rock fireplace.  Down the center of the little dead end street was an island of grass where the kids could play.  The one undesirable thing was that our little street came off a major highway.  Fortunately, the kids were very good about staying away from that busy road.

It wasn't long before the children made friends and through them we made friends with the parents.  And, of course, we had instant friends at church.  Although we had kind of had a rough beginning in Klamath Falls our stay would soon become one full of happy and memorable experiences.

Off To California

It's been quite a few blogs ago that I left the story of my life and went on to things that were happening in the present.  When I left you last, Jim had just graduated from the University of Utah with a degree in electrical engineering.  He accepted a job with Hughes Aircraft Company in Los Angeles, California as a field engineer.  I wasn't too sure what a "field engineer" did at first, but I would soon find out.

We began preparing for the move.  For me preparing was mostly mental and emotional.  Salt Lake had been my home since I was born, and this was where my father, sister, brother, Grandma Knapp, and Jim's family all resided.  I would especially miss my grandmother who had been like a mother to me since Mom passed away.  The only consolation was that my sister, Georgia, had moved with her husband to Riverside, California.  She would now be only several driving hours away.  I had always been very close to her.  And I did have an aunt and uncle, Aunt Dorothy and Uncle Bruford, who lived very close to where we would be.

It was early summer when we packed our three little girls into our red Buick and headed for California. The company paid for our move, including all the packing, so we just had to get ourselves to our new apartment in Inglewood, close to Jim's work sight.  Our apartment was in a large U-shaped complex and our unit was on the second floor.  It was a nice apartment with lots of children so Jeanie made immediate friends.  The could play on the grass in the center of the "U".  It was safe fifty years ago.  Jeanie also loved the fact that we  lived within walking distance of the Inglewood horse racing track.  We could walk there and watch the 8th race for free.  (I assume there were eight races on race days).  Jeanie loved horses from the time she was that little until now, and she loved to watch them race.

Two things that I remember most about living in Inglewood was, one, we were able to purchase an automatic washing machine (no dryer) but an honest to goodness automatic washing machine, and two, we were able to afford nice gifts for the children that Christmas.  It was that Christmas that I made the reindeer stockings for the three girls. As you might expect they were a project from Relief Society.  Those stockings became a tradition for all the rest of our children who were to come.  One even made it to Spain one Christmas where Jon was serving on a mission.  That first Christmas in California seemed so strange to me.  To be truthful I didn't like it all.  The sun was shining and there was no snow!  There HAS to snow for Christmas.  It's just not Christmas without snow. 

The second hardest thing for me in California, next to sunny Christmases, was getting used to the freeways.  They scared me to death.  Utah had no freeways and I just couldn't get used to going up the on ramps and merging into traffic that was going 65 miles per hour.  Jim kept telling me that I had to increase my speed as I approached the freeway so that I would be going as fast as the traffic as I tried to merge in.  That was so scary!   But we had to get on the freeway to visit Aunt Dorothy which we did quite often.  She invited us to dinner almost every Sunday, and Uncle Bruford loved to take pictures of the girls while we were there.  Photography was his hobby.

For six months, Jim was trained in weapons systems for military aircraft which were manufactured by Hughes.  His responsibility would now be to train pilots and other military personal on how to use these systems.  But those military people would not be coming to Hughes for the training.  Jim would have to go out in the "field"  viz. to air bases on the west coast.  Now I understood what a "field engineer" was.  He, that is we, would have to do some traveling.  I really didn't mind because I hadn't been to many different places in my life.  His first assignment was to Kingsley Air Force Base in Klamath Falls, Oregon.  We would be leaving in January, right after Christmas.  I was kind of excited, but still a little scared.  For the first time I would be living with no family anywhere close.  I realized how dependent I had become on my family.  I knew it was time for me to "grow up" and be independent.

God is Still in Charge

The Christmas season is over. The welcoming lights on the neighbor's homes and throughout the community have gone out leaving a sense of darkness and even a little gloom. The house once dressed in it's holiday refinery now looks bare and empty. All the decorations are packed up and in put away in the attic....that is, except for the last few things I missed like the mistletoe ball that hung over the hall doorway and the balls that I found behind the chair that had fallen off the tree.

Well, there is also the table decoration that I found at an after holiday sale for 75% off and the cute Christmas tree molds that I found at the grocery store for $.25 that are the perfect size to make tree-shaped Rice Krispie treats next year. I just couldn't pass up those bargains. So there will be one more trip up to the attic.

There is always something a little sad when this season ends. Although I have to admit that I miss some of the "fluff" and even the "trappings" of Christmas...the lights and decorations, the shopping and crafting to have gifts for those I love, and the carols of Christmas being played everywhere you go. But what I miss the most is who I become at this special time of year. I become more thoughtful, more patient, more kind and considerate, more sensitive to the needs of others, less caught up in myself, more outgoing and comfortable with initiating a conversation with a stranger in a long checkout line, more excited about seeing family, more time spent trying to become closer to my Savior and trying to truly understand and appreciate His great sacrifice in my behalf, and more time trying to become like Him. Although this is who I should be and who I want to be all the time, it is so easy to slide back to old routines and old habits... to succumb to my "carnal" state with all its' temptations, inhibitions, and weaknesses. No wonder I feel a little depressed after Christmas.

I was so impressed this year by the many acts of thoughtfulness and service by so many of the family. You have really set the example as to what Christmas is all about. Many of you instead of giving gifts to those of us who are already blessed with SO much, have given to those of God's children who are really in need. And I know there are those of you who have done the same thing quietly in your own way. We as a family are so blessed in that none that I am aware of is without work or struggling just to survive in this time of economic stress. This coming year is going to be a challenge for all of us in one way or another. But with the love and support of family and the love and support of our Heavenly Father we all will be OK.

I Love You, Mom

Today has been a day of reflection and sweet memories.  My thoughts have been of my mother who would have been  100 years old today had she lived.  But her life ended fifty-five years ago, just five months after I was married.  And that was ten years longer than the doctor had predicted because of her badly damaged heart.  It was her strong faith, her love of family, and her desire to see her four children safely raised and taught correct principles that kept her alive, or so her doctor said.  She trusted that job to no one else.  And although it always bothered her that she was physically unable to care for many of our physical needs, she was an incredible teacher and lived what she taught.  She was always my exemplar and role model.

Mom loved the Lord and His gospel.  Her testimony never wavered throughout her years of illness.  She was willing to accept His will regarding her life, but always prayed that she could live long enough to finish her role as a mother.  Mom lived to see two of her daughters married to worthy men in the temple and the third engaged to marry a returned missionary.  She knew and approved of all our chosen companions.  But she died when my little brother (her only son) was just fourteen years old.  It was very difficult for him, but she had taught and prepared him well.  He married in the temple to a wonderful girl (Mom would have loved her), was a stake president for nine years, served a mission with his wife in England, and today is a Patriarch. Mom would have been so proud of him.

Thanks, Mom, for all you taught me and for all you sacrificed for me.  I know now how hard  your life must have been...how much more you would have liked to do for your family.  But you did everything that really matters in this life.  You taught me love of my Savior and love of His restored church.  You taught me to pray in faith and to expect answers.  You taught me integrity, service, how to work, and how to sacrifice.  You taught me who I am and what I could become.  You taught me patience and long suffering.  And you taught me how to be a loving wife and mother.  I like to think that somehow you had an influence there in Heaven in sending down the very best of Heavenly Father's waiting spirit children to our home, because we certainly got the best. You would just love them all. 

I can just imagine you now, young, beautiful, healthy, and enjoying the work you were unable to do on earth.  You always wanted to do missionary work with your dad, and I bet you are a dynamic duo in Paradise.  And I know you are happy to be reunited with Dad, with your mom and all your siblings.  And how special that you have one of your daughters with you as well.  (I miss you, too, Georgia.)    

I love you, Mom.  You were the best!  I only hope that you are proud of me...that I have lived up to your expectations.  Happy 100th birthday.