A Norton Family Activity

Blythe's adoption added her to our family.  It also resulted in our adoption to her birth grandparents' family.  Grandma Dawn and Papa Scott wanted to continue to have Blythe as a part of their lives and be a part of hers, and Kent and I felt that was important too.  As Blythe's family, Scott and Dawn welcomed us into their family as sort of unofficial children, I guess.  They consider Brandt as much their grandson as Blythe is their granddaughter, and so we are now honorary Nortons.  Brandt and Blythe are lucky enough to have three sets of grandparents and we have additional family support.  It works out beautifully.

As members of the Norton family, we were invited to an extended family function last week, a quasi family reunion.  We were introduced as Kent and Katherine Barrus, Blythe's parents.  I suppose that is enough.  We met at the Lindon park riding arena.  Scott's brothers have horses and so everyone was riding.  Well, many were riding.  None of us rode except Blythe who is developing a true sense of daring which worries us a bit.

Blythe on Chester being led by Aunt Goose (Alisa)

What a horsewoman, or horsegirl.

A Girly Girl

Blythe is such a girly girl.  She wants to look like a girl, dress like a girl, and smell like a girl.  She sneaked into the bathroom closet and got out my "make over" the other day.  Here is the result.

The Primary Program

We had my favorite sacrament meeting of the year this week--the Primary program.  As the Primary president, I get somewhat anxious about how everything will turn out, while at the same time knowing it all will be okay.  We have had a huge influx of children into our ward this year; our Primary has doubled in size.  It has brought challenges, but more blessings, and I really have enjoyed the new children who have moved in.  They have meshed so nicely with those who were already here.

My anxiety this year has stemmed from our increased numbers.  How do you fit 90 people on the stand and manage to keep all the little bodies under control?  Should everyone have a part?  How far over time will we go?  These were my worries, but, as usual, I worried needlessly.  Heidi and I managed to squish everyone onto the stand, lining small chairs along the front and placing folding chairs wherever they would fit.  Three of our girls sat at the sacrament table and three at the clerk's table.  We interspersed teachers and put potentially problematic children next to them, and decided in the end to have each child do a part.  We used our two oldest classes (eight children) as our narrators and had them ask questions of the younger classes.

It was all beautiful.  The flow was perfect, everyone said their part well, and the singing was glorious.  Apart from one of the Sunbeams nearly falling over and taking out the whole row of children next to her, everyone was particularly well behaved.  We had requested comments from the congregation that we then read to the children during sharing time, and everyone expressed how well the children performed.

I was especially moved by the music, as I always am.  I am always brought to tears by the children singing their testimonies.  There is something powerful in hearing children express their desire to be like Jesus, or the power of the scriptures, or about hearing the Savior's voice as they listen with their hearts that touches my soul.  During sharing time in senior Primary, as I expressed how beautifully they had done and how moved I was, many of them said, "Faint! Faint!" which I used to do when I was the music leader.  So I fainted.  One doesn't like to disappoint.

Brandt did his part very well.  In response to the question, "Who is your favorite prophet and what have you learned from him?" Brandt said, "I like Nephi.  He cut off Laban's head and shocked his brothers.  He was obedient."  How is that for a part?  While other children talked about President Monson who taught them kindness, or Joseph Smith who taught them to pray, Brandt was all about the murder and mayhem.

The State Fair

Last week Kent and Grandma Sue took time off work and we all went to the state fair.  I love the fair!  The children do too.  This year we had two objectives: eat lunch at the beef council tent, and eat something on a stick.  Last year we had our lunch, and as soon as we finished eating, Kent saw the beef council tent, smelled a delicious aroma issuing forth from said location, and was disappointed in what we had eaten.  So we wanted to try out their steak sandwich this year.  Also, every year we read about all the strange food stuffs available to eat on a stick, and I wanted to enjoy one of these unusual creations.  Brandt wanted to drive a tractor.  Blythe wanted to do whatever Brandt was doing.

We did have lunch at the beef council tent.  It was disappointing.  The steak was not adequately cooked and as none of us like our meat rare, we didn't really finish.  The food on a stick choice was also somewhat a bust.  We ordered a deep-fried Snickers bar, and while it was sweet, hot, and gooey, it was also too much. We tried deep-fried Oreos which were also too much.  And we bought a funnel cake which was enormous, far too much to eat, even for five people.

We rode the big yellow slide, the went through "Little hands on the farm," Brandt and Blythe rode a train, and Blythe, Grandma Sue, and I rode the Ferris wheel.  We saw all the animals and assisted in the recapture and penning of two rogue pigs who managed to get out of their pen (we don't know exactly how) and ran right past us.  Kent helped herd them back in while Blythe clung to him, desperately trying to avoid contact with the bovines.  Kent came away with a pig snot souvenir on his pants.  The children also rode the ponies, even Brandt, who last year wanted nothing to do with them but this year was brave.

Oh! We love the fair!

While this wasn't a tractor, it was a digger, and that is just as good.

Our little farmers off to produce and sell produce.

Just occurred to me that "produce" and "produce" are exactly the same word, but with two different meanings.

English is weird.

"Weird" as another example of English strangeness.  

It's an exception to the whole "i before e except after c" rule.

Brandt "milking" a large fiberglass cow.

He's a natural!

Blythe was nervous and somewhat at a loss as to how to proceed when confronted by the utter.

She eventually was brave enough to try.

Brandt is planting onion and Blythe is planting bell pepper.

They won't grow.

First of all, they are planting in sand which lacks all necessary nutrients for the plant to grow.

And then they are planting round, wooden disks.  

We won't go back next year expecting to harvest.

Brandt got to ride a tractor.  

It wasn't quite what he envisioned, but still.

Blythe riding as well.

Our future farmers of America.

Brandt driving another tractor.

Me too.

The Big Yellow Slide

So named because it is both big and yellow.

Both Brandt and Blythe loved it!

Riding the train.

 

And riding the Ferris wheel.

A bunch of sillies!

The great pig escape.  

As we were just entering the pig enclosure, two pigs ran past us.

Two pig people (although not the owners of the run-away pigs) watched them pass us too, and then took action.

They cut them off at the pass, herded them back down the aisle towards their pen,

and then Kent, brave Kent, cut off the egress, forcing them back inside.

So exciting!

A sow and her piglets, all seven. 

They were noisy.

There was a sign by this pig's pen that read,

"Don't put your child in the pen."

Who would do that?

And why?

Actually, I can think of several reasons why, but I digress.

Grandma Sue and Blythe discussing the feeding habits of piglets.

And Grandma Sue sweet talking a sheep.

 

Blythe is sweet talking a goat.

I had to take a picture of these birds because we laughed and laughed while we stood watching them.

This is an emu and a turkey.

Above their cage was a sign that said, 

"These are rescue birds."

Grandma Sue looked at the sign and said, 

"How could these birds rescue anyone?"

We then began to pantomime ways an emu might help someone in distress, 

or how a turkey would alert someone to danger.  

Must hilarity ensued.  

The sign over the cage was obviously missing an D.

Brandt and Blythe both enjoying a deep-fried Oreo.  

As long as I am their mother and taking them to the fair,

these will be the last deep-fried Oreos they ever eat. 

Packings

Has anyone wondered where I've gone?  I've been packing.  I am excited to get a new house and to have free rein to do what I want with it, but we have to move all our stuff.  We have lots of stuff.  Really, a lot of stuff.  I find myself using practically every spare moment to pack.  Hence, all my blogging time is being spent hunched over a box.  I am, even now, mentally sorting the tool shelf in the basement.

Speaking of the basement, I have made excellent progress in the packing/sorting/organizing.  Our unfinished basement which we use as storage is nearly all boxed and ready to be moved.  I spent over a week just in the food-storage room.  My across the street neighbor made the brilliant suggestion that I go get boxes from the liquor store; they are heavy duty and on the small side.  So, ironically, I have packed all the food storage in alcohol boxes.  If I can find another two solid hours where I can work undisturbed (ha ha!), I think I can finish up down there.  I am getting more and more excited for our new space.

A New Home

I am happy to report that Kent and I are buying a house.  This one.  I'm awfully excited about it.  Kent is fairly nervous, what with the economy tanking and the zombie apocalypse in the near future.  But we are taking the plunge.  We made an offer on the house in May, but it was a low-ball offer and the sellers sort of laughed at us.  They has listed the home for 30K more than it appraised for, and three and a half months later with no perspective buyers on the horizon, they decided to take our offer.  We didn't even have to negotiate!  It is in our ward (which we really like) so although we will have to move all our worldly possessions (of which there are far, far too many), our lives and routine will change very little.  

The house has a great floor plan, a porch, and is on a corner lot of a cul-de-sac.  We are going to do some work before we move in, and then more work, little by little, after we move in, but we are basically happy with it.  Even Kent.  The current residents have asked to rent from us for a month after we close, so they won't be out until the end of October.  Then with the work we want to do, I think we will move in around Thanksgiving.  Just in time to decorate for Christmas.

Speaking Aloud What I Know

Yesterday morning as I knelt to say my prayers, Brandt came into our bedroom.  He knelt down next to me and said, "Mom, what are you doing?"  As I had only just begun, I stopped and told him I was praying.  I asked if he wanted to stay with me and he did, and then I asked if he wanted me to pray out loud so he could hear what I was saying.  He said yes, so I began.

During my prayer, I expressed how I was sad that my dad had died and that I missed him.  Brandt is wont to pipe up and add things as we pray, regardless of who is actually saying the prayer, if he feels we might miss talking to Heavenly Father about something he thinks is important.  As I expressed that I missed Dad, Brandt immediately said, "But he is with you," meaning Heavenly Father.  I was sort of crying and his comment made me really cry.

I am so happy to realize that Brandt has a testimony of the Plan of Salvation.  He knows that Grandpa De's spirit is still alive, even if he body isn't.  I am grateful that I had shared my testimony with Brandt in the wake of my father's death so that he would learn to know and understand, as I do, that Dad is in a good place.  It is a comfort to me to know that Brandt is learning the gospel, that things we are teaching him are actually sinking in and becoming part of his worldview, especially when family home evenings and family scripture and prayer are often less than reverent.

I also realized that bearing my testimony, expressing my convictions aloud, has far more power than if I just believe in my heart but never say anything.  Speaking aloud what I know reaffirms my belief and can strengthen others.  When I was in the MTC, I remember praying for a testimony of Joseph Smith.  I had a firm testimony of the Book of Mormon; I knew it was true.  And if the Book of Mormon is true, Joseph Smith had to be a prophet.  But before I went out to tell others that Joseph Smith had seen God the Father and Jesus Christ, I wanted to have an equally strong conviction.  One day, as we were practicing teaching, I was to teach the principle in the first discussion about the first vision.  As I taught, I bore my testimony of the truthfulness of that experience, that Joseph Smith had seen God and Jesus Christ, and that he was called as a prophet.  As I spoke those words, the Spirit filled my heart and I knew it was true.  But it took me actually saying I knew for me to feel that I did.

I regularly pray that my children will develop a love of the gospel, and I know that I am largely responsible to see that that happens.  I need to take advantage of every opportunity to share my convictions, aloud, with Brandt and Blythe so that they will know I know and love the gospel.

The Aerospace Museum

For Brandt's birthday, Grandma Dawn and Poppa Scott wanted us to take a trip to the Aerospace Museum at Hill Air Force Base.  They brought Brandt a really cool book of lots of different planes, and then thought going to see them for real would be real fun.  The week we were planning on going is the week my dad died, so our trip was put on hold.  We finally made it last Friday, nearly two months after Brandt's birthday.

The museum is fantastic.  There are two huge buildings full of planes, uniforms, and other bits of equipment, plus many really large planes outside.  It was all fascinating.  Poppa Scott knows a lot (and I mean a lot!) about all the different plans on display, so he told us all sorts of interesting facts about the things we were seeing.  Although Brandt ran around with Kent, he walked around with Scott quite a bit too, seeing everything Poppa had to show him.  We saw the planes that both my grandfathers flew during World War II, got to pick something from the gift shop, and enjoyed a tasty picnic lunch in the shade of an enormous plane.  It was a great activity.  Thanks Poppa and Grandma!

The Flying Fortress.

Grandpa Hare flew one of these.

And a P-51 Mustang.

Grandpa DeMartini flew one of these.

Here is Poppa Scott showing Brandt something cool.

It is the plane below, the fastest jet ever built. 

Blythe and Grandma Dawn.

Brandt liked the small models.

He wanted to bring one home.

He thought this very large gun with the very large ammo was pretty sweet as well.

Scott, Brandt, Kent holding Blythe, Dawn holding McKenna, and me.

Poppa Scott showing Brandt the fastest plane.

And Brandt flying.

Dawn is helping Blythe and Brandt flatten a penny.

Baby McKenna.

Blythe helpfully feeding McKenna pea mush.

She did a really good job.

Poppa Scott trying to teach Blythe how to yoyo. 

She wasn't very good.