on turning thirteen, from Ben

Dear Xander,

Let me begin by apologizing for the lateness of this letter. I know that it's already a few days past your birthday and by the time you get this it will be even later. All I have to say is I'm sorry and although this letter is late you were not forgotten.

Oh thirteen. What can I say about thirteen? I've thought about it a lot and first I'd like to tell you the sun came out today. All day I've been doing whatever it takes to stand in the sun just because it makes me feel so nice. It's amazing how it seems to melt away the gloom of wintery days.

If I could pick a birthday to send a letter through time to a past self I would send one to thirteen year old me. To be honest it was not one of my favorite times of my life. Suddenly your life starts to make the transition from little kid to boy. You have to, and you want to, be more grown up, but the change isn't easy and it doesn't help that everyone around you at school and at church are just as crazy and confused as you are. For me, people weren't always as nice as I had hoped and a lot of the time I remember feeling angry and hurt, but not knowing what to do about it.

If I could give my thirteen year old self advice I would start by telling myself to take things one day at a time-- just do your best each day and realize that even if it isn't easy, someday things will get easier. The sun will come out in the spring even if winter feels hopeless. Be nice to everyone even when they aren't nice to you.

My next bit of advice is to exercise every day. Push ups, pull ups and sit ups are really all you need. When you're in good shape you feel better, not to mention that it's always nice to win a fight if you have to. On top of that, girls love it--not fighting-- but being strong. Just ask Mary.

My other bit of advice would be to read the scriptures every day in a way that makes you happy. Figure out how you like to read the scriptures and do that. Fast? Slow? Marking the pages a lot or hardly at all? It doesn't really matter. What's important is that you read them and enjoy it.

Isn't that a funny thought? That you should enjoy scripture reading. For so long I thought it was important to stick to a schedule or have a fancy marking scheme with at least fourteen different colors. But no! What matters is is that you learn and you feel the Spirit in the scriptures and that you learn to enjoy the scriptures. If a schedule or a marking scheme helps you then that's great. If not, don't worry. Just read the scriptures every day and you'll be blessed.

Xander, I love you. You don't have to take my advice. I just know I wish I'd had it when I was thirteen. I hope you had an excellent birthday and you managed to have a lot of fun even without me there.

You're great Xander and don't forget it. I don't know what our family would do without you and I don't know what I would do without you. I'm so glad you were born. Have a great day and smile big.

Love, Ben

a poem for my dearest cupcake Xandy-cane

His eyes are as blue as a flower in bloom
and his bright pearly white illuminate a room.
When he opens his mouth sweet good candies flow forth
And his long golden locks make women swoon.

But who is this boy with wit
so sharp it could hit
you from your horse and make you fall
to the ground? But then laugh because all
is well. He is the great, the kind, the noble, the Xan
Xander man.

It's always momma's fault

I think I'm a good mom.

Oh, I know that's taboo to say; we're all supposed to be berating ourselves while wearing hairshirts and walking on nailbeds, but I'm amazed that the girl who hated babysitting and never thought she'd have children thoroughly enjoys life as a mother of six.

I'm patient, I'm kind. I set high expectations but never berate kids for failing. Effusive with praise, I'm also stern when they need to get something done. My kids are great workers, embrace good values and laugh every day.

But man, this week I feel like a failure. I just can't stay on top of it all. It's small stuff mostly. The note from Gabe's teacher informing me he's missing six math assignments (because I never do check his backpack). The scramble to find his ski pass yesterday-- and I told him to take Mary's (because he does own a pass and she wasn't skiing) which resulted in both passes being revoked. Yes, his stuff is his responsibility, but if I didn't have twenty junk drawers and messy closets these things would never get lost.

a rare shot of me with all six-- you can see there's always a lot going on

Will I ever be able to give Xander enough attention? Fourth child is a rough spot.

And Mary, sweet Mary, I know I'm spoiling her with pretty dresses; I just hope all the vacuuming and dishes will make up for it.

OK, here's the kicker. The last few months Stefan has been buried in paperwork with college and scholarship applications not to mention his five AP classes and one concurrent enrollment. I'm honestly thrilled any time I see that poor kid goofing off. "Stay out late Stefan!" "Drink milkshakes!" "Make a movie with your little brothers." "Kiss the girl!"

And I've been bemoaning that fact that all these hoity- toity scholarships which take masses of time(like National Merit and U.S. Presidential) have no money behind them, they just sound cool when/if (humongous IF) you are the 1/100,000 kid chosen. One award he was nominated for took an entire weekend of essays and letters only to find if he is the ONE kid chosen in the state he'll receive $500.

So after the flurry of applications ended, we sat down this weekend to fill out the Regent's Scholarship. This is the best, easiest scholarship in the state-- you simply have to take certain core classes, get decent grades and fill out the form. It's a sure thing, there's no essay or interview-- if you have the qualifications you get a nice fat $11,000 scholarship.

And yeah, we missed the deadline.

It's pretty much like building a bonfire with eleven thousand one dollar bills.

No, it won't keep him out of college. And I guess I could spread the blame around a bit, but I'm so afraid my ineptitude will keep this fabulous, hard-working kid out of the school of his dreams. I could write a great essay on everything NOT to do while applying to colleges (#1-- don't be a white male #2 don't do single choice early application no matter who talks you into it because it will exclude you from nearly every scholarship in the nation). I'm sure I sound whiny, but if you could see Stefan working from sun-up to sun-down you'd understand.

And here's the larger question, how can we stand to send Stefan to school at all? And then on a mission for two years? He is the quiet rock of our family-- unfailingly kind, generous and good. I'm still recovering from sending Ben off. Please don't say his mission is flying by (even though it is for you) I'll either burst into tears or kick you in the shins. It seems unbearably cruel that Ben will come home in a year just in time to see Stefan leave. How will my heart bear five missions in a row?

Forgive my lamentations, these are absolutely comfortable middle-class complaints, but I always feel better after writing. Things will work out, I know, things will work out. I take comfort from Ben's letters. The year before he left was horrific in many ways (my mother dying, the cruel and contemplated destruction of my extended family). I cried every day; sometimes all day. I swore and yelled and threw things. And I worried his last year with us, his memories of home, would be marred by my grief.

Yet his letters are full of love and praise and "you're the best mom I could ever hope for." And I believe when a child is truly, wholly loved for their individual magnificence, they will forgive our fumblings and failings, forgetfulness and general disorganization. I love my children profoundly, deeply; I tell them every day in a hundred ways. I see them for who they really are-- God's children.

I still think I'm a good mom.

The King and the Sorcerer

Holiday weekend= video time at our house.

The plotline and direction were a group effort, but Xander edited about 90% by himself. I loved watching him smile and laugh behind the laptop as he clipped video and added sound effects. Few activities encourage cooperation and respect for each other's ideas like moviemaking; I'm so glad they've already planned a sequel. But they'll have to wait, I took my camera in for cleaning the moment they finished filming-- that darn spot is NOT on a lens but hidden in some pesky corner I can't find.

Enjoy! This is a good one.

sorcerer 1 from Michelle Lehnardt on Vimeo.

Tracy in Real Life

It's a five-star friend who travels from Minnesota to Utah for your daughter's baptism, but true friendship is revealed when someone stays in my house four days and I don't feel the need to apologize for the dusty shelves, messy pantry or my children's latest spat-- because Tracy doesn't judge or raise eyebrows-- she simply loves us.

A few of Tracy's 3,000,000 readers may skip over here for insight into the woman behind sellabitmum.com, because she is (as Erik likes to say) kind of a big deal. And the truth is she's fabulous, kind, funny and so incredibly, showstopping pretty that you'll never believe one of her posts about aging or wrinkles again. Tracy claims she's not photogenic and while I hate to agree with any sort of self-deprecation, it's true that no photo I've seen captures her true loveliness.

With the baptism and Sunday and the prerequisite tour of Temple Square, Tracy was pulled fully into our Mormon world, which she treated with grace and respect. She wrote the kindest expose on our religion and people; if you're Mormon you'll love the comments (we're not as hated as we thought!). Trust me, this one is really worth the read.

Spiritually, I believe everyone who lives a conscious driven life is pretty similar-- we just have different practices. One of the funkiest thing about Mormons, I told Tracy, is that we just nod our heads and say OK to lots of rules--"I can't call my missionary son on his birthday? OK." "I shouldn't have double ear piercings? OK." "You want me to spend 200 hundred hours planning girls' camp this summer? OK."

Our lack of caffeination seems strangest to Tracy, but I was happy to follow her into Starbucks where she bought a double venti for herself and salted caramel hot chocolates (highly recommended) for me and Mary. Minutes later we sipped our drinks as we walked into Jolley's Corner Pharmacy, a friend in the store saw us, became wide-eyed and said, "Happy baptism day, Mary. Starting it out with a little coffee?"

"Figured it was her last chance." I replied. My friend was thoroughly embarrassed but Tracy and I found it hilarious.

It was my turn to be embarrassed when we had a run-in with someone who wanted Tracy to know Mormons are better than everyone else. Tracy graciously brushed it off, but I'm still sad and chagrined. I respect the beliefs of all my friends; my belief in Christ is strengthened by reading Tricia and Jan's blogs, my Catholic Uncle Mark lives the most principled life of anyone I know, my Born Again cousins inspire me with their fervor and my brother Dan (who isn't really religious) is one of my wisest spiritual advisers. As Erik likes to say, "Religion is a holding pattern until Christ comes again." (and do I think Mormonism offers a fabulous holding pattern? Oh yes. I'd love to tell you all about it or send two cute missionaries to your door.)

Erik also loves to quote Joseph Smith, “Friendship is one of the grand fundamental principles of ‘Mormonism.’ … It unites the human family with its happy influence.” And friendship is empty without respect for each other's beliefs.

photo credit Tracy Morrison

The baptism was the perfect time for a visit because Tracy was able to meet my family and many of my friends. I always like my friends to meet each other because, well, I know they'll become friends too. And that's precisely what happened-- now Tracy has a whole slew of Utah buddies and next time she comes we'll need an arm wrestling contest to see whose house she'll stay at (but I'll have Stefan represent us, so sorry, the rest of you don't have much of a chance). Tracy even made it into Ben's birthday video, but she's out of focus because some people (me) don't know how to use their camera.

Really, with two photographers, you'd think we'd have taken a lot more photos over the weekend. I did show her some of my favorite shooting spots and spent some time trading Photoshop tricks, but most of the time we were too busy talking to pull out the camera.

And of course we shopped-- when a style diva like Tracy says, "You need these shoes." I just shrug and pull out my wallet.

My sister told me of a conversation with a Dutch friend where she said, "North Americans just don't value friendship. They don't make time for people the way we do in Europe." Sadly, she may be right. But I am so grateful for Tracy (and many others) who share their time and friendship with me.

Be still my heart, I love Paris

and I recently wrote about our June 2009 trip on the Haven In Paris blog.



Three years ago when planning our once-in-a-lifetime vacation I found the most amazing apartment on the Champs Elysées next to the Arc d'Triomphe-- the best part?-- the sleeping arrangements for eight made this plush apartment less expensive than the cheapest hotel rooms. Not only did an English-speaking Parisian meet us at the door, but she prepped us on the use of the Apple laptop, whirred through the kitchen appliances, fluffed the pillows and showed us the way to the grocery store.



It took seven years of planning and saving to get us there and I think the anticipation helped us enjoy every minute. My boys spouted facts about artists and kings and emperors while practicing their French. Truth is, they've been obsessed with the language ever since. And you should see Ben and Stefan's walls covered with prints of their favorite works of art from the Louvre and Musee d'Orsay.


Hans brushing up on a little history on our way to Versailles

If you're going to visit one city in Europe with children, I'd suggest Paris (and this is coming from a girl who speaks German). No other locale offers such ease of transportation and varied activities as the City of Lights. Did you know everyone under eighteen receives free admission to every major museum and monument? Did you know Paris has the best Metro system in Europe? In other cities, you'll walk a mile between stops, but the famous (and beautiful) Paris Metro serves every corner of the beautiful city.


ooh, I looked a lot younger and thinner then



In fact, the only place we paid entrance to was the catacombs-- fascinating and worth every penny. Parisians has an amazing chapter on these tunnels under Paris.


fire dancers at Sacre Coeur

Someday, one day, I'll go back. But probably never again with all six kids in tow-- it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance and I'm so grateful we experienced the magic together.

Happy Valentine Birthday

It's no secret I go overboard for my children's birthdays. And Ben's Valentine birthday has always been a source of delight. When he was little I used to write on his party invitations, "Please wear red or pink to the party." Slightly obnoxious, I know. But everyone usually indulged me and wore their Valentine best.

Once again, our friends and family indulged us as we made this birthday video for Ben-- we ended up with sixty-four participants wishing Ben a glorious day. How I wish I could talk to him today! But I take comfort in the fact all of Italy is decorated for Ben's birthday and maybe, probably, a few people will wear red or pink.

Happy Birthday Ben! 2012 from Michelle Lehnardt on Vimeo.

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"OK," Erik pronounced, as we pulled out the Valentine supplies, "we are not staying up late. Every year we lose track of time and everyone stays up half the night."



But Erik is the worst of all, he makes heart confetti and carefully glues it into place...



must have a nice border...



My creations are pretty, but rather typical and kind of dull. But the boys and Mary are wildly creative, crafting Valentines I couldn't have imagined.



The love plane.



It's serious work.



Yes, Stefan is tracing a rose. Don't ask me why.



Gluing kisses on one lucky valentine.



And yes, we stayed up way too late.



The result was a pile of love notes big and small (Gabe wrote all of his on tiny scraps for some reason).

Some of the highlights:


a math worksheet for Erik


a fancy violin from Hans


note the beautiful bouquet


short and sweet


and silly


Mary stuck to a formula for her brothers-- describe them by they letters of their name


a little negotiating (Xander got a jug of apple juice for his birthday and it's a hot commodity)



Some things are worth missing a little sleep.