Introducing…

MaryAnn Emma Smith, the new star of the Smith Family Variety Show.

She made her debut appearance on Monday, June 27, 2011 at 1:53 p.m. weighing in at 7 lbs 12 oz and stretching 20 inches.

Her name comes from the many strong, courageous, and faithful Mary’s and Marianne’s that we know…like my nearly 90-year-old grandmother who still lives alone, takes care of herself, makes the best strawberry freezer jam, and only stopped mowing her lawn about a year ago-ish. Also, Brent’s cousin Marianne who is currently fighting breast cancer while raising her five young children. And our friend, Marianne, who shared with us how rewarding, fun, and successful homeschooling can be.  The Bible is also full of amazing Mary’s. And we can’t forget our lovely sister-in-law, Ashley ANN.

And finally, MaryAnn will always remind us of two very strong, courageous, and faithful women from history…Mary Fielding Smith and Emma Hale Smith because she was born on the same day they lost their husbands to martyrdom 167 years ago.

MaryAnn Emma is already an incredible addition to our family and we know that her  strength, courage, and faith will leave another lasting legacy in this big world.

As for me…I’m just happy to be back home tonight. It’s always nice to be on the home stretch of enduring the challenges and pains of pregnancy, labor and delivery…and get on with the loveliness of cuddling and nurturing a little one. And watching my kids cook dinner, sweep floors, change a poopy diaper, nurse their dolls (just the girls), and gawk at their new baby sister from my cushy rocking chair is WAAAYYY more entertaining than daytime television on a stiff bed.

A New Addition We Have

No…Baby #6 is not here yet…still another 4 weeks-ish.

But before her big arrival, we have to make room for her. So, we are saying “Good-bye” to our loyal, low-cost, and trusty 7-passenger mini-van (which though out-dated and very worn, has served us well and provided many treasured memories for 8 years in nearly half of the 50 States)… and “Hello” to something a bit bigger.

Exactly what to buy next for our growing family’s transportation needs has been one of the more challenging and comical decisions of our married life.

Throughout this pregnancy, Brent and I (sometimes separately, but often together as part of our date-night) browsed through various 8+ passenger options via the Internet…keeping an open mind of course…and then with sarcasm and melancholy, closed windows, went to bed, and simply put the matter back on the shelf for another month or so.

But we couldn’t do that again this time…the last month is here. 

So:

We thought about this nice vehicle because it certainly would handle our numbers + car-pooling capacity, and I’m already used to answering questions about running a day care whenever I go grocery shopping or take everyone to the park,  AND it might even get priority drop-off privileges at various events and places. BUT would probably count as a bus and therefore cost more to park, or go through tolls, etc. Not worth it.

We also considered this:

or this:

Because it would definitely receive high marks for the “Coolness Factor” long into the upcoming teenage years AND could earn its keep on the weekends (Brent’s idea). We think the interior would be a HUGE hit…

BUT I couldn’t quite picture myself in my usual jeans and t-shirt dragging an infant seat in and out of the side door…let alone squeezing into the last parking spot at a band concert.

And the electrical costs look a bit high (but I can’t confirm that because we didn’t get that far in our research…maybe we should have at least gone for a test drive.)

Instead, we test drove this: 

Which was a good thing…because Brent and I have a reputation for placing practicality over style, and all along, we (mostly I…Brent has never been very attracted to a huge van) have been assuming something like this would be our inevitable Point A to Point B vehicle whenever Baby #6 made an appearance. AND the serious investigation of a 12- or 15-passenger van (as opposed to the more common look-alike cargo van) has created lasting laughs and memories.

EVERY car-salesperson gave a blank/confused stare when we walked through the door and asked about these vans. When Brent experienced this alone, he was asked what business he needed it for…his response of course: “Family Business.” He couldn’t wait for me to witness this phenomenon, too…he wasn’t exaggerating (except they didn’t question WHY we needed a big van when we were all present). Even at Ford and GMC (where these vans are manufactured), many of the sales people questioned the van’s existence and then had to look up on computers to confirm that they indeed sell a vehicle that fits more than 8 people. Only one dealer had one on hand to test drive. And when all the kids piled out of the our green mini-van (through the front door because the sliding door broke about 2 months ago), one salesman couldn’t stop staring…like he was at the circus watching a bunch of clowns climb out of a tiny car…I laughed. :)

BUT after test driving, calculating gas mileage, and realizing that I would need a walkie-talkie or get better at texting to communicate with my kids in the back seat, we (mostly I) decided I would still want a mini-van to taxi the kids around during the week. So, even if we owned a 12 or 15-passenger, I think we would try at all costs to avoid driving it. Therefore, it’s not quite the right choice for us.

That brings us back to SUV vs. mini-van. And because SUVs don’t come as 9-passenger anymore, we finally decided on a more practical 8-passenger: 

  A Toyota Sienna. (Used.)

It will save us on gas for the next several years (in comparison to the other options). It will fit in most parking spots. It has a DVD player (which makes it about as cool as the limo option). It was relatively low in cost (except when compared to our old van). AND, most importantly, it fits ALL of us…for now (and even if we expand a bit in years to come, it will still meet most of the weekly taxi needs, thus enabling us to put off the BIGGER options for awhile).

Yes, this new addition we all like…Cienna is especially thrilled.

WHOSE Kids are Those?!

So my kids came bursting into my bedroom this morning at 7:30 a.m. where I was re-resting (since I'd been up much earlier) with Cienna, who had had an unusually restless and rough night (I think because we'd gone to the zoo yesterday and she was having nightmares and leftover anxiety about being so close to a real bear, etc.), and they happily shared with me their encounter with their favorite teacher as she was driving by our house this morning.

Kids: “We saw Mrs. Opitz when she was driving to school this morning!”

Me (yawning): “Oh, that’s nice.”

Kids: “She stopped and said hi to us.”

Me (raising my eyebrows a bit): “Oh, she’s so nice…were you guys outside?”

Kids (with great excitement): “Yes. We were down the street (a couple of houses away) waving to Dad at the corner as he went to work.”

Me: Speechless…because it was then that I put everything together (keeping in mind that I’m well-aware of and wanting to improve the “home-school family” stigma): Kids running down the street at 7:30 a.m (with no shoes, I'm sure, but I didn't ask)….favorite teacher of whom I have great respect…and yes, 2 out of 4 kids still in PJs, including young Allison wearing her bright pink nightgown (apparently hearing the commotion at the front door from her bed and not wanting to miss the spontaneously dramatic send-off for Dad, thus jumping up from her pillow and heading straight outside, bed-head and all).

I suddenly had that sinking feeling that most parents hope to avoid, but that we all know is inevitable and quite humbling and increases in frequency throughout the teenage years (I’ve heard). I know my children’s sincere intentions and try to be quite forgiving of their natural, impulsive decision-making (and of course I promptly and gently reminded them about getting dressed before playing outside…unless there's an emergency...like a good-bye to Dad), but I never feel good about contributing to the discomfort of the average person passing by who may make a quick judgment and spend the rest of the day feeling critical and a bit hardened.

But then I remembered: Mrs. Opitz isn’t an average passer-by.

She’s a favorite teacher not only because she’s good at teaching music, but because she understands the hearts of children and appreciates them for their innocence and zest for life. She looks past weaknesses and awkwardness and just makes people feel safe and loved for who they are. (Diggy made a card for her once and said, “I hope she likes it…(deep-in-thought pause)…I know she’ll like it because nice people like everything.”) She connects with kids (and adults) in a way that inspires them to be better people. She’s the type of teacher that kids remember for years to come…

And for me, she is also a dear friend. When I exchanged thoughts with her later today, she said she sincerely enjoyed witnessing the tender good-bye…and the PJs had made it all the more precious.

I think the world would be a different and happier place if there were more people who noticed and cherished life the way Mrs. Opitz does. We would all breath more sighs of relief (I sure did today!)…and at the same time feel more determined to walk a little taller.

Sorry, no pictures this time…thankfully.

12 Years, 24 Roses, and 890 Cinnamon Rolls

Brent and I celebrated our 12th Anniversary this past weekend.  

Brent is an incredible husband who has service at the front of his mind…it is part of who he is…it is what attracted me to him years ago…and it is what has made our marriage stronger with every passing year.

Brent is also the Scoutmaster for the teenage boys at church. And after being married for 12 years, nearly all of which he has served the teenage boys at church…in five different states, I’ve become accustomed to the time commitment it takes. Sacrificing 1-2 nights a week, vacation time for summer scout camp, extra meetings on Sundays, regular campouts, etc, etc.

I thought I’d  become mentally tough in supporting him in these worthy causes, especially after a high adventure trip many years ago turned into a group helicopter rescue while I was home pacing the floor with two young boys wondering why Daddy was so late returning home. (Don’t worry…Brent was fine…he just had to assist a couple of boys who had developed hypothermia after narrowly escaping a whirlpool in the Pacific Ocean.)

Well, a couple of weeks ago we started discussing the possibility of helping his scouts raise summer camp money by baking cinnamon rolls for Mother’s Day. Boys and Moms would have an adventure making them together at our house the day before Mother’s Day—except the day before Mother’s Day was OUR anniversary.   My heart did a flip-flop and I must admit the “What about me and MY needs while I’m 7 months pregnant and hoping to milk the weekend for all it’s worth because it’s my anniversary AND Mother’s Day?!!” thoughts circulated for at least a day and a half.

But then I thought again…what better way to celebrate our mostly blissful years than to do a service project together? I’m a big fan of symbolism. And…what a creative husband I have…we don’t have to plan something extravagant and risk high hopes that it will fulfill great celebratory measurements in comparison to past anniversaries or to the Jones’ fancy outings. 

So cinnamon rolls it was.

It was an honor (and extremely exhausting) to serve and support Brent in his charitable endeavors—something that truly makes him happy—on our special day. I’m usually the recipient of Brent’s service. It was nice, and very fulfilling, to catch up a little.

Except sales were so successful (89 orders with very little marketing efforts) that a friend volunteered to help with 1/2 the orders. So, my title is deceiving…we really only had to do 9 batches of dough to make 45 pans with 10 rolls per pan, which = 450 cinnamon rolls, plus the other 450-ish rolls, which = more $$ than they were hoping for originally, lots of happy mothers (and fathers who don’t have to worry about burnt toast), and no more fund raisers for another year. Yippee!

We had lots of help from the kids, too!

And because Brent is extra in tune to my emotional state, he brought home 24 roses the day before the big event—12 for our anniversary and 12 for Mother’s Day. I’m not normally much of a flower lover (I like practical gifts like new rags or my annual pair of cheap flip flops), but this time flowers made the tears come…

The girls thought the flowers were very romantic.

And guess what we had for breakfast on Mother’s Day??

Easter Excitement

So much to catch up on and so much to share...
and so little time (and energy) to devote to the blogging world.

But here's my favorite (and only) family picture on Easter:

As we rushed to find car keys right before church, they were finally discovered in the ignition--the windows had been safely rolled up the night before...(which has great meaning because the van's interior was still recovering from an unpleasant stench left by an all-night rainstorm pounding through the open sunroof a week earlier)...and the battery was fully dead in the morning.


But with a husband who handles stress with a sense of adventure, all five kids piled out of the van in their Easter garb and learned how to jump-start a car.


The excitement in the air reminded me that Easter is a good time to take a family photo.

It’s A…???

The BIG debate in the Smith house for the last several weeks has been: Will the Boys even the score? Or will we be closer to officially being able to act out the Von Trapp Family (they have 2 boys and 5 girls for all who aren’t Sound of Music savvy)? Everyone agreed we’d be happy with either.

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And the answer is (drum roll please): It’s a GIRL!!

I must admit, I’ve been stumped…again. I thought Cienna was a boy, and assumed even more (though just a guess) that this one was a boy. (Apparently pregnancy experience doesn’t improve chances of guessing right.) 

But alas, another sweet angel girl will join our clan of 3 VERY excited older sisters (and it will be nice to have an even number there…they already spend significant time bonding in the bathroom together; now they can more easily use the buddy system). And she will undoubtedly adore her 2 proud older brothers, who admitted they were slightly hoping for a younger brother to wrestle with and have follow in their footsteps (not to mention to get added support for the natural competitive sibling rivalry).  But I noticed both boys walking a little taller when we discussed their increased importance. They will have 4 younger sisters to watch over and protect. Not very many people in the world can say that (strategically boosting their 8 and 9-year-old competitive spirits…wink,wink).  

When I think of having another girl, I remember finding out that Diggy was a boy (and I confess to feeling slightly disappointed at the time) and wondering if I would ever have a girl (especially as an only girl with 3 brothers). Now I have 4, and I’m even more grateful my two boys have each other. They are truly best friends and great older brothers.

I imagine how much more experienced I’ll become at managing phrases like, “Stop, Mom! You’re pulling on my hair too much!” or “That doesn’t look right on me,” or “She’s wearing my skirt” five minutes before it’s time to jump in the car before church. And I truly hope my mother will still be up to LOTS of formal-dress sewing/altering in about 10-18 years.

But when I really stop to ponder the thought of another one of God’s precious daughters coming into my care, I am humbled at His trust in me. I’m grateful for the chance to intimately influence another future wife and mother. I know she’ll be watching my every move.  Her anticipated arrival motivates me (all over again) to improve myself in prep for her delicate personality and impressionable brain.

And Brent’s thoughts: 4 princesses, 4 teenage girls, 4 brides. What could be more exciting and expensive and dramatic and tender and lovely than that? (And maybe we need another bathroom…and we will definitely need a bigger van…but that’s a touchy subject.)

Our next BIG question = What will her name be? The highest vote so far goes to Mary Chris…so we can say Mary Chris Smith all year round. Luckily, we still have a few months to discuss that one…but whatever her name, it’ll feel like Christmas around the 4th of July! :)

Daddy-Daughter Dream Dance

Since Valentine’s Day last year, the girls have been planning and anticipating the Daddy-Daughter Princes Ball 2011 (a local high school fundraiser, which has become a HUGE memory maker for our budding queens…this was Kirsten’s 4th annual dance. Allison has gone twice now, and Cienna almost went for the first time).

The girls have been staring at the their new red Valentine’s Day dresses, with matching doll dresses, since Christmas (special thanks to Grandma and Grandpa) and trying not to wear them except to practice proper dance moves occasionally.

They counted down days, planned hairstyles, picked out fingernail polish, made corsages, and whispered excitedly to each other (especially during the final week of waiting) in prep for the big night. 

And last weekend…the BIG date finally arrived.

When Brent came to the front door in his handsome suit to call on his dates, he had six young ladies to court (including Baby Betsy, Sarah (Allison’s doll), and Kirsten (Kirsti’s AG doll, whom she sometimes calls Brigette after her new aunt who also has a Kirsten doll)).  Kirsten adores the whole routine…from Dad “sneaking out” to come ring the doorbell, to the corsages, to seeing all of the other girls dressed up, to dancing with Dad, to the treats they serve, to just feeling like a princess in her Daddy’s arms.

Hearing Allison’s sweet little voice discuss the Daddy-Daughter dance for the last few weeks has been priceless. As a second-year veteran, she embraced all of the evening’s events, loving her Daddy’s special attention, devouring the treats, and courageously joining the princess mosh pit like a pro.

Cienna faithfully followed in her sisters’ footsteps in preparing for her first big princess ball. Anytime the dance was discussed or practiced, she happily joined the festivities and kept saying, “I’m going to the princess dance, too!” She loved getting dressed up to match her sisters.

But…then it was a little weird to have Dad ringing the doorbell, and no one told her that wearing a flower on her wrist was part of the routine…and the 2-year-old tears came. And as wise parents, we foresaw that 1000 other dancing dads and daughters  wouldn’t improve the uneasiness (which is why the wise organizers have an age recommendation of 3-11…she’ll go next year).

So, Cienna felt completely included after a few pictures and a special dance with Dad at home…just for her. Then she happily chose to stay home for movie night with Mom and the boys and eat popcorn.

Three beautiful daughters and a husband who treats them like the princesses they are…I, too, feel like a very lucky lady!