This post is dedicated to my True Love ~ Doug. We have had the most incredible past week with our son’s wedding. We had all 5 of our children and their spouses in the Salt Lake temple. My heart is filled to overflowing! And I know none of it would be possible without him. I am so thankful for Doug. I am so grateful for a husband who understands my feelings as a mother and recognizes my needs & desires to be here with my children and grandchildren ~ at least for a few weeks.

 Hearts Locked in Love

Oh, how I love Paris, the most romantic city in the world

One would be hard pressed to challenge its claim

And yet, without my love, it isn’t the same

Its magnificent magic becomes miserably melancholy for me

Oh, how I love Doug, like the sun he lights my world

Seeds planted, blossoms grow, sunny days are spent

Children laugh and they cry, the years they came and went

His strong steady hands, his sturdy stable back, he is my rock and foundation

Oh, how the Pont de l’Archeveche’ holds hundreds of hearts

Brightly colored padlocks, declarations of devotion, glimmer on the railing

Holding fast to lover’s true love, endless, eternal and never failing

My heart is securely clasped, lovingly locked, and constantly committed to Doug

Oh, how Doug holds my heart like a lock upon the bridge

As waves ever gently roll his tender touch for me enfolds

His arms embrace, I’m always safe, my heart he ever holds

Hearts locked in love, on Parisian river railings, in warm pulsating chests, forever beating

The Beautiful Basement

The Beautiful Basement

         As a little girl I loved visiting my Grandma. She had a special magical place in her house. It was a beautiful place. It was her basement. I know most people don’t like basements. They are cold and dark. Their shelves are filled with dust and their corners covered in cobwebs. Bugs and spiders spiders and mice crawl along the floors. Most children are afraid of basements. They look like dungeons with monsters lurking in the shadows, but not my Grandma’s basement. Her basement was beautiful.

It is true, that Grandma’s basement smelled like dirt but it was not the smell of fresh overturned dirt like when planting a garden. This was old dirt. This dirt was from the beginning, Genesis dirt, “and God called the dry land earth” dirt. That’s how old it was. The moment we stepped on the first squeaky stair the aroma of ancient, stale dirt and cold concrete filled our nostrils.

The steep stairs were aged and cracked, a little like my Grandma’s face with wrinkles and creases. We would carefully descend down each step as if each held a land mine about to explode. I loved how they creaked and squeaked like angry cats in a cat fight on a night with a full moon. The hanging laundry would cast shadows across the floor that looked like old grey ghosts. Thankfully, Grandma would always assure me that they were just her old house dresses and Grandpa’s slacks. 

Jars of bottled apricots lined the shelves. Row after row, jar after jar, like soldiers standing at attention lined up for inspection. Grandma would often open a jar and we would partake of the sensational apricot sweetness. We would lap up the apricots like puppies at a dish full of warm milk. Sappy syrup sloppily spilt down our chins and dripped on our noses. With the back of our hands we would clumsily wipe all the wonderfulness and sweetness in one fail swoop from off our faces only to beg for more.

My favorite part of the beautiful basement was Grandma’s bed.   It was big, soft, and white. We would snuggle on that bed and Grandma would tell stories. “Life begins and ends in a bed” she once said. As a little girl the thought intrigued me. I pictured the bed like white fluffy clouds in heaven; one sending new baby spirits down to earth and the other inviting an old tired spirit back home. Grandma’s bed became my own heavenly cloud for me and my grandmother.

When I was in the beautiful basement with Grandma nothing else mattered. We had no idea what was happening on the other side of the old, worn out, blue door at the top of the stairs. 

The house could have been violently swept away by a tornado, tossed and turned and dropped in the Land of Oz and we would never have known. I wouldn’t have cared. My Grandma was beautiful. Time with my Grandma was beautiful and that is why the basement is beautiful.

Say Cheese!

Have you ever taken a photo of a three year old? You know how it goes: Say cheese! Smile. Wait, look here at the camera. No, look at me. Try again… you get the idea. Making sure everything works just right is like making sure the stars are aligned perfectly.  Get the three year old to look at you, make sure your camera is in focus, make sure the lighting is right, now get the toddler to smile… oh boy. Well, try taking a photo of 5 toddlers!

I had this genius idea (right?) to have the kids take a picture to send to Jaren in Argentina for Christmas. I made a page for each child to hold with a word that, all together, said “We love you Uncle Jaren.” All they had to do is smile and hold their paper. Ha ha . Add a prop and just add more complications to the challenges already listed above = Disaster? No, just hilariousness!!

So, here’s how it went…

Uhhh, Rhead & Halle I need to see your faces. Carden make a HAPPY smile. Emma, I can’t see your sign. Let’s try again…

Oops, Rhead your sign is upside down. Halle why are you sad now? Try again…

Okay, wait, Carden open your eyes. Rhead I can’t see you. Brooke what ARE you doing? Emma, turn your sign up and look at Nana…

Oh my goodness! So close! That’s good kids. Everyone’s page is actually the right way. Now, just look at Nana and smile nice. Make a happy smile. I know we’ve done it 100 times, but just one more time with a big smile and we’ll be done. I have skittles for you if you smile!!

Okay, I guess this is the best we get. Ha ha. Not sure which is best. We were cracking up! Say Cheese!!

But the WINNER of making me giggle when trying to get a picture is Halle. I have several sequences of photos with her before we get it right. I love them all! But, this is my favorite, at the BYU basketball game with Papi… J

Don’t Worry Be Happy!

“Don’t worry be happy.” Those are the words to Bobby Mcferrin’s popular song from 1988, encouraging us to be happy.

Benjamin Franklin is believed to have said, “The Constitution only guarantees the American people the right to pursue happiness. You have to catch it yourself.”  Since the beginning of time man has yearned for, looked for, hoped for happiness.

So what is happiness? We may each find happiness in as many varied and different ways as we, as individuals, are varied and different. However, research shows that no matter who we are- whether we live on an Asian Island, in the Louisiana Bayou, or the African desert-all humans find happiness and joy, by sharing life with loved ones.

And so, this weekend, I experienced true joy with the birth of another grandchild. The scriptures tell us “man are that they might have joy.” (2 Nephi  2:25) I love that! Life is difficult. We all have struggles, trials and hardships. Sometimes, there may seem to be no shortage of problems. And yet, we are meant to be happy! Our Creator, or God, our Heavenly Father wants us to be happy. 

This past week I watched my daughter suffer the pains of contractions, sweat through the agony of labor, and rejoice in the giving of life! What joy!

Giving birth is the perfect symbolism for life; that only through the most difficult, even sometimes the going to the very edge of death itself, we are rewarded with the most precious, beautiful gift of love and life and joy. An angel straight from heaven!

That act of complete unselfishness of the mother and the absolutely, amazing instinctiveness of the newborn babe, still slippery and slimy, turning his little head to find his mother’s breast: Giving  - Loving - Life - JOY!

Watching my daughter successfully and courageously give birth to her son - JOY!

Cradling that sweet, innocent, pure baby boy in my arms - JOY!

Day by day, minute by minute, second by second we can choose to be happy. We choose to find joy! Jeffrey R. Holland once said “If you’re missing the joy, you’re missing the point.” Cherish those moments. Find joy! Don’t worry – be happy! 

Oh My Sister, You're Getting Old!

My sister turned 50 years old this summer! It’s quite a milestone. Half a century! Five decades. 18,250 days! That’s a lot of days to either get things right or get them wrong. Thankfully, she has spent most of those days getting it right. 

Her birthday has caused me to reflect on a couple of things. FIRST: getting old and SECOND: Sisters. While I truly appreciate and am eternally thankful for sisters I am still trying to fully appreciate getting old.

I haven’t quite figured out how to lovingly embrace Middle Age.

Bob Hope once said “Middle Age is when your age starts to show around your middle.” And Bette Davis said “Getting old isn’t for sissies!” 

As I seem to be more forgetful, my back aches more often, my knees creek and I continue to find grey hairs I realize How True It Is!

Notwithstanding the difficulties of getting older, I am thankful I have about a half a century of great memories with my sister. I am blessed to have 5 AMAZING sisters. We are blessed to, not only be sisters, but to be the best of friends. Sisters share a special bond.  A bond almost greater than any other human bond. They share bedrooms, boyfriends, secrets, clothes, joys, heartaches, triumphs and tears. It is because of their special bond that sisters survive the many experiences throughout life. 

How thankful I am for my sisters.

We're A Family

I love families! I love the family I was raised in and I LOVE my family now. I know I am truly blessed. I also realize that neither one of these families is perfect. Like most families, we have our shortcomings, our differences, and our challenges. But we love each other and that keeps us together. 

I have been blessed to travel to many places around the world and soon I will go to even more places. As I have traveled, one of my favorite things to do is meet with families. I have been blessed to be in many people’s homes and shared meals, stories, songs and prayers with other families. 

Each family has been different. But one thing they all have in common is their love for each other. That familial love transcends all cultures and countries. Regardless of where they live, what they eat, how they look ~ a family is still a family. We live in a wonderful world of great diversity. The beautiful people of this earth are all Children of God and are of many and varied religious persuasions. 

We must cultivate tolerance and appreciation and respect for one another. My travels have helped me do just that. As I meet and become acquainted with so many amazing people and families I recognize the wonder of diversity and the beauty of sameness.

I have written this little song about the many incredible, fascinating and different families around this globe. (Now I just need to put the words to music)


We’re a Family
By Kristen Rhead Sweeney

There’s a Mama, a Mama & a Papa and a baby

And a brother, and a sister… make a family

They make you feel good and ya giggle and get happy

They grow like branches and spread out in your family tree

And we hug ‘em, we squeeze ‘em, and we kiss ‘em

Cuz we love them… we’re a family

They live in mountains, in mountains & by rivers and in cities

And in forests, and in deserts where it’s hot and gritty

Some wear shoes, but others let their feet get dirty

Some wear jackets, or dresses that are bright and pretty

And we hug ‘em, we squeeze ‘em, and we kiss ‘em

Cuz we love them… we’re a family

All around the world, everywhere we go

Meeting different folks… oh, people, don’t you know

They’re just like you, and they’re just like me

We share this planet earth… we’re one big family

Spinning round and round through the galaxy

Going from town to town… Oh, can’t you see

That they’re just like you and they’re just like me

We share this planet earth… we’re one big family

They eat rice, yummy rice, and pasta and their vegis

And burritos, and bugs and linguini with mommy

Some eat bugs! But others think that’s disgusting

But they love ‘em cuz they’re super sweet and squishy

All around the world, everywhere we go

Meeting different folks… oh, people, don’t you know

They’re just like you, and they’re just like me

We share this planet earth… we’re one big family

Spinning round and round through the galaxy

Going from town to town… Oh, can’t you see

That they’re just like you and they’re just like me

We share this planet earth… we’re one big family

… we’re one big family

… we’re one big family

We share this planet earth… we’re one big family

May Time Carol

Tis the Season to Be Rushing!

                                                       (A May Time Carol)

                      By: Kristen Rhead Sweeney

Tis the season to be rushing

Rush, rush, rush, rush, Run, rush, rush, rush, Run

No Christmas trees or holiday pudding

Rush, rush, rush, rush, Run, rush, rush, rush, Run

Don we now our May apparel

Soccer cleats, baseball pants, hats and gloves

Now we sing a May Time carol

Rush, rush, rush, rush, Run, rush, rush, rush, Run

Lunches, fieldtrips, dancing classes

Rush, rush, rush, rush, Run, rush, rush, rush, Run

Reports, exams…hope everyone passes

Rush, rush, rush, rush, Run, rush, rush, rush, Run

End of school year celebrations

Invitations, graduations, some complications

Bridal Showers and Wedding Receptions

Rush, rush, rush, rush, Run, rush, rush, rush, Run

Classroom parties “We want cupcakes!”

Rush, rush, rush, rush, Run, rush, rush, rush, Run

Mother’s mixing, now Mother bakes

Rush, rush, rush, rush, Run, rush, rush, rush, Run

Don’t forget what’s most important

Teacher gifts, thank you notes, pizza parties!

Don’t be late for any appointment

Rush, rush, rush, rush, Run, rush, rush, rush, Run

 

No time for dinner or for resting

Rush, rush, rush, rush, Run, rush, rush, rush, Run

Off to hear some recital playing

Rush, rush, rush, rush, Run, rush, rush, rush, Run

Needing strength from Heaven above

Rushing here, rushing there, everywhere

Do it all for the people we love

Rush, rush, rush, rush, Run, rush, rush, rush, Run

 

Hurry now, is summer coming?

Rush, rush, rush, rush, Run, rush, rush, rush, Run

I’ve had enough of this May time running

Rush, rush, rush, rush, Run, rush, rush, rush, Run

No more homework, no more parties

No more games, no more treats, no recitals

No more school and no more tardies

Phew!...Rush, rush, rush, rush, Run, rush, rush, rush, Run!!!

                                   (Mothers: On your mark…Get set…Go!)

Let's Swim!

It's that time of year: The Sun is hot and the Water is cool. 

Time for SWIM LESSONS! My favorite time of year.

** 25 years experience ** 

SESSIONS:
1. May 14 - May 24
2. May 29 - June 7
3. June 11 - June 21

TIMES: 
May: 11:00am on... I will also have time available for after school kids.
June: 10:00am... as long as needed
I strongly believe lessons need to be often and consistent so I teach M-T-W-Th.
30 minute lessons
4 swimmers per class

COST:
$75.00.Session = 8 lessons

Contact me ASAP. Let's Swim!
dksweeney@msn.com

Gentle Hands

This is dedicated to my mother. She is a small woman, standing just 5'3". But her soul is large and her heart enormous! I sometimes wonder how it all fits into her cute little body! :) She often lives in the shadow of my father who is tall, handsome, wise, and receives much attention. Deservedly so, he is a great person. But, so is my mother, who often serves quietly, diligently, and tirelessly behind the scenes. I once heard someone say that God will just look at our hands and be able to tell the kind of person we are. My mother will go to heaven with beautifully worn out hands! She'll have scars from needle pokes and pricks as she mends torn clothes and sews brand new ones. She'll surely have flour and dough stuck to her fingers from all the homemade bread and rolls she bakes. Her hands will be worn from the many years of serving others; cleaning, working, washing, fixing. Mostly they will be soft, warm hands from all the love and giving. 

Gentle Hands

By: Kristen Rhead Sweeney

Gentle hands always Serving

Working, Weeding, Sewing, Stirring

Never shouting words of fame

No awards, applause, acclaim

But still Serving, Loving, Working...

Just the same


Gentle hands always Giving
Mending, Kneading, Helping, Healing
Never shouting words of fame
No awards, applause, acclaim
But still Playing, Sharing, Feeling...
Just the same

Boy or Girl?

I have had five children. Ultra sounds were just becoming popular when I was having my babies. But most Doctors only performed an ultrasound if there was a problem. I never found out the sex of my baby. Even with my last two, when some women were doing so. I never wanted to know. I liked the fun surprise. Besides, women have been having babies for thousands of years without knowing the sex! Why do we need to know now? 

But this new generation likes to know and wants to know! My grown children, who are having babies now, all anxiously await the doctor visit for the ultrasound that will provide this exciting news.

Last year while visiting my pregnant daughter, she scheduled her Doctor’s appointment so I could go. It was so fun. We heard the heart beat and the Doctor confirmed again that Ashley was in perfect health.

Then, our little bubbles of excitement and anticipation were burst when the Dr. announced  he didn’t have time to do an ultrasound to determine the sex of the baby. Well, that will never do in 2012! We were bound and determined to find out whether this baby was a boy or a girl. We wanted to know and we wanted to know now!

So we drove straight to the Mall to this funny little lab that does ultrasounds for pregnant women. Ashley & Mike have been feeling like she was having a boy. After all, the Pencil Test said she would have a boy first! 

You know the “Pencil Test”, right? Oh boy! Swing the pencil over your wrist: vertical means a boy, horizontal means a girl. “The Pencil Test is never wrong!” So says the gypsy women with dangling earrings and colorful scarves. J 

But we wanted proof. It was so cool to watch the ultrasound. This time with my daughter. The young technician gently rolled the probe over Ashley’s round belly. It’s been a long time for me but I could tell what everything was. Look! A leg… the head…  the heart - look at it beating! It’s so incredible and wonderful to see that there really is a little baby inside. An arm, a hand, another leg… two legs… a bottom and…  look- it’s a girl! Wait, a girl? “Are you sure?” Ashley and Mike both asked. We looked again… the spine, a leg, another leg, a bottom and…  “Yep! It’s a girl.” How can the Pencil Test not be true? Our faith has been shaken! (hee hee) 

It was a strange feeling for Ashley & Mike who had been imagining a boy all this time. Admittedly, they were a bit disappointed. However, as soon as we were finished we went straight to Baby Gap and found the most darling little girl dresses and bloomers and bows. Ashley quickly decided it was going to be very fun to have a girl! Thank goodness for modern technology! And for Baby Gap.J

And this is that sweet baby girl

My Daddy

I love Fathers! Harold B. Lee once said to fathers "The most important work you will ever do will be the work you do within the walls of your own home." I'm thankful to be surrounded by men who follow this counsel. While traveling around the world we met some pretty great fathers. All were hard working, honest, good men. Many of these fathers work with their hands; they till the earth, herd the cattle, chop the wood. And many of them have their children working right beside them. It is comforting to know that there are good men everywhere doing their best to raise their children. Here are a few of my favorite fathers: some nearby and some faraway.

My Daddy

by Kristen R. Sweeney ©2011

Daddy is big. Daddy is strong.

His arms can hold me all day long.

Daddy can fix things. Daddy can cook.

At nighttime Daddy can read me a book.

Daddy helps me and works all day.

But sometimes daddy likes to play.

Daddy loves me and big brother.

Daddy loves baby and my mother.

Daddy is good. Daddy is smart.

My daddy has a great big heart.