Field Trip

Check out the cutest baby in town:

My Little #22

Kidspeak

While we were gone, baby Seth joined our family.

Marta is Seth's mom, and Dan is Seth's dad.

Benji is Seth's big brother, and he came for a sleepover last night. Dee graciously let Benji share the master bedroom with me, and I made him a comfy bed on the floor with a feather tick, quilts and several fluffy pillows.

"Who's sleeping there, Oma?" he asked.

"You," I replied.

"Well," he said, "I could sleep in the bed."

"I thought I'd sleep in the bed," I said.

"Well, it's big enough for two," he said.

"Really?" I said.

He's learning to share his mom and his dad.

It might be too much to expect him to share his bed!

(The floor wasn't that comfy, by the way.)

Welcome to Seth Wells Dansie

Cousins Club Member #22

Read Marta's beautiful new-baby post here.

Message from München

We're on the trip of a lifetime, showing our favorite places to one of our favorite families. Our son Josh, his wife Christie and their three kids McKay (14) Chase (almost 13) and Hannah (10) met us in Switzerland. (I put a bunch of photos of Lucerne on Instagram, and wrote on Facebook about our stay in Salzburg, Austria.)

Now we're in Germany, and the WIFI in our hotel is $25 a day! Luckily there's a computer in the lobby so I can keep this trip journal going. On a daytrip from Munich Stie, Hannah and I toured the original Sleeping Beauty castle (Neuschwanstein) and Linderhof, another of Mad King Louis' fairytale castles.The weather was perfect and the crowds were non-existant! We stopped and shopped in Oberammergau, a tiny town famous for its painted buildings, wood carvings and Passion Play.

The guys spent three hours looking at historic BMW motorcycles and watching BMW cars being made. Chase and McKay are now planning to build themselves a car. They searched online all evening for ideas. The only thing that could pull them away from car websites was a huge selection of Bavarian pastries. The food so far has been a major attraction! Tomorrow we fly to England where the restaurants aren't so tempting.

It's amazing how well this family gets along. No arguing, complaining, pouting, tension. Even when it's hot and there's a wait, or a long-ish tour with a strange-ish tour guide, nobody whines. There is constant laughter and good-natured teasing. I'm not exaggerating. We're into our second week together and I haven't heard a cross word.

Travel, especially foreign travel is stressful--close quarters, constant togetherness, no privacy, unfamiliar conditions and different kinds of people. These guys are all great sports, patient, looking for fun, ignoring irritations. Every night a different kid shares our room and it's a party. We split a coke and a cookie from the minibar, and try to be the last one awake.

A Grand Kid Day

Lucy, Jessi and Chloë make their Grand Entrance

Nothing is more fun than a day with grandkids! (I've had quite a few lately, and I know my stuff.) I took this trio to the Grand America in downtown Salt Lake City for the Grand Tour.

We started with brunch.

Pancakes with strawberries and cream cheese,

crepes with bananas and nutella ...

Hot chocolate with fluffy mounds of whipped cream ... "Can we go to La Bonne Vie after this?" they asked. The French bakery outside the Garden Cafe was filled with pastel macaroons and chocolate truffles and had caught their imaginations on the way in. "You don't have dessert after breakfast," I explained.

"But this is brunch!"

"Prepare for the bathroom of your life," Chloë told the others.

"We get our own little rooms, with chandeliers."

(It's a grand thing when toilets make such a splash.)

"Look at these old fashioned phones!" Jess exclaimed.

"Are they from the '90s?"

Cords, buttons, and even a dial—

"Where's the caller ID?"

The Grand Finale was a visit to Jou Jou,

a toy boutique in the hotel for grand kids.

"This is the ultimate doll house," Lucy said. It was standing next to a giant robot that told knock-knock jokes in a monotone robot voice, after it greeted us with:

"I-can't-give-a-high-five-but-I-can-say-hi-five-times ...

hi-hi-hi-hi-hi."

A grand piano was on the floor in front of organ pipes filled with brightly colored bubble gums. When the girls stepped on the keys the music started and so did the dance moves.

Making memories in grand proportions

There's nobody quite like grandkids. They love completely with no expectation except receiving love back. It's a forgiving, tolerant, accepting kind of love. They aren't trying to improve us, or change us. We're good enough. Who else loves us that way? They aren't embarrassed by us, and actually expect us to be a little eccentric, which gives us confidence to just be ourselves. All in all, it's just grand!

"And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children,

and the heart of the children to their fathers . . ."

—Malachi 4:6

Music to My Ears

Me, Bryant and Carol in Salzburg, 1969.

If your Junior High had a hootenanny you're one of my peeps. I fell in love with Rich McClure, Keith Roark, Tom Carter, Bob Evans—any guy with a guitar. I sang "Michael Rowed the Boat Ashore" at church to a strummed accompaniment. Back in the day "Leavin' on a Jet Plane" to the tune of a guitar was the expected closing song at a missionary farewell! Guitar was a love language for boomers.

Jess, Lucy, Chloë

Dee and I had our own baby boom,

and into the third generation they're still speaking our language!

Uncle Pete and his backup.

The Halverson Heroes just got back from a week in the woods, and the hills were alive with the sound. Under one tree or another there was a jam session going the whole time, and I loved it! "Starting on A, one, two three ..."

"Havin' fun at the campout, singin' a song,

Havin' fun with Oma all day long ..."

The little kids wrote lyrics and taught each other chords,

"Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da ..."

and the big kids remembered when they used to sing

"You, my brown-eyed girl."

"I was riding shotgun with my hair undone in the front seat of his car ..."

While Dee was singing a duet with Lucy at the campfire,

"Are you Eliza?"

"Guess again, Oma."

... one of our little twin granddaughters asked me,

"Has Opa ma-wied Tayloe Swift yet? I know he loves her."

Of course he loves her. She plays a guitar.

In my heaven angels won't play harps. They'll have guitars.

And it will be a hoot! (enanny.)

(If you want to know what I'm singing about today, click here.)

Oma Days

Oma Day

There are Pioneer Days, Strawberry Days and Onion Days up and down our state, but my favorite summer days are Oma Days. The kids are out of school, travelin-grands come from far away, and I get to hang out with my favorite people. For six weeks this summer grandkids are at the top of my to-do list. They pair off and treat me to the pleasure of their company for an Oma Day.

Chelsea and Ashley (both 7)

I took these guys to Walmart where we bought fishing poles,

and headed out to my neighborhood lake.

Chelsea at Oquirrh Lake

It's 65 acres, almost four miles around, with playgrounds and picnic spots scattered here and there. Sailboats, canoes and row boats are available to residents and there are 13 miles of walking trails. We just needed a few yards.

Ashley prepared for giant fish.

Since it's stocked with trout, bluegill and bass, I was certain we'd each catch our two fish limit. The girls were so worried they'd be pulled into the water by giant fish, they insisted on wearing life jackets. Unfortunately, I forgot about hooks and worms. The fishing lines floated aimlessly on top of the water until we got bored.

Ashley and Chelsea on Soda Row

Then we dashed across the street for a run through the splash pad ...

and gelato cones.

Scott, Pete, Brad and Dan

The guys went golfing one morning,

and biking the next.

The ladies had an outing at City Creek.

Gabi, Sam, Brad

Jordanelle was the scene for a boating adventure.

I watched in awe as the littlest kids rode the waves,

Chloe, Emmie, Jessi

... and the experts surfed the wake.

Eliza and Jill

The twinkies requested their favorite cupcake store.

Then we went to the Oma Clubhouse for dress-ups and a tea party.

Gabi watching fireworks

After a grand display of fireworks and a month of fiery weather, we woke up to rain and cool temperatures. Perfect for a weekend in the woods! The car is loaded, and the Oma tent pack-ups are ready to go; s'mores are waiting! I'll report next week!

Random Writing Recommendations

Chloë and her teacher, Mrs. Nugent

I went to my granddaughter Chloë's 4th grade County Fair, and ran into my own 4th grade best friend. Fifty-five years later, she's now Chloë's favorite teacher, Mrs. Nugent. She was just Karen when I knew her, way back when.

Karen lived right behind me—we shared the back gate. She was tall and I was short and her mom called us "Mutt and Jeff." (Neither of us know who Mutt and Jeff are.) Her grandma taught me to play Gin Rummy and her grandpa taught me not to lie. I'll never forget that day.

We lived close to a canal. Rumor had it that a little girl had once drowned there, and all the neighborhood kids knew we were not to cross the street or go near that fearsome place. One day I ran through the gate, through their garden, past her grandpa and into the yard. The whole family was searching for Karen's little sister Carolyn who was about three. Even Grandpa put down his shovel, pushed back his hat and hollered, "Carolyn!" through cupped hands, and came up onto the grass. "Have you seen Carolyn?" he asked me.

Thinking it would be funny, I said, "Yes. I saw her floating down the canal." You can imagine how that little joke went over. Grandpa grabbed hold of my wrists and walloped me on the backside. "Have you ever heard the story of the boy who cried 'Wolf"?" he asked. Obviously I hadn't. He sat me right down and told it to me, and then informed me that lying was wrong and I better not do it again. He made me promise.

I've never forgotten that incident—whenever it comes to mind I cringe. (It reminds me that I was often a brat.) Carolyn was eventually found and things settled down; Grandpa went back to the garden and we went inside to have some of Mrs. Thatcher's tapioca pudding.

Looking back, I'm grateful I grew up in a time when adults took responsibility for teaching kids how to behave. I deserved that spanking and I'm glad he taught me a lesson I still remember. Now his granddaughter is teaching my granddaughter lessons she'll always remember, with a softer touch. (Chloë is definitely not a brat and already knows how to behave.)

Who was your best friend in 4th grade? Do you keep in touch? What would you talk about if you got together? Write down a memory!

Benji, 3.

Do you have a favorite day? Mine is Oma Day! Benji came over for an Oma Day and entertained me for a couple of hours. I'd heard he loves playing baseball, and has a powerful swing, so I thought I'd let him tell me about it.

Oma: So, Benji, do you like sports?

Benji: Yes! I do!

Oma: What's your favorite sport?

Benji: Well ... I think ... golf.

Oma: Wow! Do you play golf?

Benji: Not now, but I used to when I was a little kid.

He carried around a tiny helicopter the whole time he was here, and when he was leaving, his mom told him to put it away. "Can I keep it?" he asked. "Maybe you can borrow it," I said. "When you come again, you can bring it back and trade it in for something else." He looked at it and then glanced in the Cousin's Clubhouse at the other toys. "Actually, I want to trade it in right now," he said.

Benji and his cousins in the Cousin's Clubhouse

"…writing comes more easily if
you have something to say."
—Sholem Asch

One secret of writing: collect things to say:

1. Carry a notebook and jot down kidspeak. Kids are funny.
2. Listen in on conversations in the check-out line, in restaurants, and the beauty salon.
3. Imagine what you would have said if you were rude, or clever, or funny.

The other secret of writing: write!

Put on some bum glue and sit down at your computer and make those fingers go.

If you don't write, you'll never be a writer. It's that simple.

If you do, you will.

Want to read ahead? I've got a book list:

1. How to Write the Story of Your Life, by Frank P. Thomas
2. The Autobiographer's Handbook, edited by Jennifer Traig
3. Legacy, by Linda Spence
4. Tracing Your Family History, by Anthony Adolph
5. For All Time, by Charley Kempthorne

What's Happenin?

Baby Kate, 2 months

"What 'cha been doin', Oma?"

On the road with Chloë

This month I tended some grands while their folks went to Switzerland,

Eliza and Jill

Watched some soccer,

Down the street

Wrote four Garden Park blog posts,

Oma at the wheel

Drove to San Francisco, and Phoenix,

Luke and Sam

Saw perfection,

A couple of kids

Cruised the neighborhood,

Cupcake Party

Celebrated ten Hero bdays,

Spoke twice,

Taught once,

Went to thirteen meetings,

Made 17 visits,

Learned to work my new computer.

(It feels so good to make this list ... )

And I had a ton of fun!

"Living is like tearing through a museum.

Not until later do you really start absorbing what you saw, thinking about it, looking it up in a book, and remembering, because you can't take it in all at once."

—Audrey Hepburn

Granddaughters: A Sweet Treat

Chloë at San Gelato

I picked the girls up after school, and Chloë got to ride shotgun. At ten, she is still technically a back seat rider, but my back seat could only accommodate her two younger sisters. Who knew it would be a grand perk of Oma day?

She twisted the side mirrors, adjusted the vents, rearranged the sun shades, locked and unlocked the doors. "You seem to be enjoying all the accessories." I said. She checked her hair in the make-up mirror on the back of the visor. "Well, yeh. The front seat is way more luxurious than the back seat." she said.

We're babysitting this week, getting reacquainted with the up close and personal. It's so fun to listen in on girl-talk, get in on bobby-pin demonstrations and overhear piano practice. These girls are 10, 9 and 7, old enough to pack their own lunches and put in their own wash. Bedtime is not an issue and they come home anxious to do their homework. Observing such awesome qualities has restored my belief in heredity.

After dinner they played on the swings in our neighborhood park while the wind whipped their hair into tangled updos--mine was standing straight up. It was time to head over to a family night concert, and I suggested we go home to wash up. "It probably won't do much good to comb our hair with all this wind," I said. "Oma," chided Chloë, "I think we should at least make an effort."

Like I said: granddaughters are a sweet treat!

Chloë May, Ashley Paige and Jessica Dee

"Remember how you always blog about us when we're funny?"
I do!
Click here for some memories of kidspeak:
Ashley
Jess
Chloë

"Grandkids are the reward for not killing your kids."
--Bill Cosby

Results

Introducing
Kate Juniper Halverson

"Twenty-one grandchildren?" my friend gasped. "Can you even remember their names?" What a silly question! They are the result of my life's work. Let me explain.

One night 43 years ago I sat at a table in Salzburg, Austria surrounded by students. Someone asked someone else if they wanted kids and we all announced how many we wanted. I said "Twelve" at the same time a boy at the other end said "Twelve" and someone else said, "You two ought to get together." We did.

One of our first conversations was "working moms." It was a hot topic in the late 60's with women's lib and birth control offering opportunities to break traditional molds. I told Dee I wanted to be a professional mother, not a mom by default. That was what he wanted for his kids, too.

The whole Ann Romney flap has got me flapping. Stay-at-home-moms were often looked down on in my day. Some people assumed that since working moms did mom stuff, too, those of us who stayed home only did half the work they did. I won't go all defensive here (actually I just did, but I deleted those paragraphs) but I will say I worked full-time. My work was to raise seven well-adjusted, happy kids (we didn't make it to twelve) who would contribute goodness to the world.

I am totally satisfied with my career choice—
especially when I see the results!

Family Easter Egg Hunt

"Dear! I think you're the Easter Bunny!"

Grama Lundgren used to have an Easter Egg Hunt in her gigantic front yard for 24 grandkids. She spent hours boiling, dying and hiding a dozen dozens of eggs; we spent ten minutes running wildly through the apple trees in our Easter bonnets and bow ties; then we all spent days eating egg salad sandwiches. The work-to-fun ratio was out of balance, so I tweaked the tradition. An Oma Party always includes the preparation: instead of doing the work myself, I let the guests do it—that becomes the party! Let me explain.

Back when I was a full-time mom, I'd often announce a Halverson Hero Happening. Our family gathered in the kitchen (we were a party of nine) for a planning session, assignments were made, and the festivities began. Scotch tape, balloons and crepe paper appeared; pudding was instant (with lots of squirt whipped cream) and games were assembled. Fifteen minutes later colorful streamers and excited screamers filled the family room—the party had planned itself.

With that background I'm sharing some tried and true suggestions:

Ten Easy Steps for an Easter Egg Hunt

1. Put an invitation on your kids' pillow or plate (or send an e-vite to the kids in your life.)
2. At the start of the party, give each kid a roll of colored crepe paper and a roll of tape, then set the timer. (You'll be kept busy finding the end of somebody's scotch tape.) They can twist and drape—it doesn't matter how it looks in the end. Decorating is the fun part. The timer is necessary because they won't want to stop.
   
3. Gather everybody on the floor and give each guest ten plastic eggs. Dump packages of jelly beans, bubble gum, etc. in a big bowl and let everybody fill their eggs. (For a big group, have every family bring something to contribute.)
4. While the guests fill eggs, you fill two eggs per person with something unique: McDonald's coupons, dollar bills, quarters (depending on how old they are and how rich you are) or slips of paper that say Sing a Song, Tell a Joke, etc. for an impromptu program. It helps if these eggs look different somehow (color, size, whatever) than the others.
5. Give each kid a paper sack and crayons and let them decorate it as an Easter basket.
6. While an adult hides the eggs, the kids go somewhere else with another adult and learn to do the bunny hop, or play "Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar?"
   
7. Youngest to oldest, a pair of kids are released and told to find ten eggs, plus two of the unique eggs.
8. Everybody stuffs candy in their mouths.
9. Everybody dumps their eggs out into their sacks, and the plastic eggs are collected and taken to the garage until next year.
10. Talent show: sing songs, tell jokes, do somersaults, dance the bunny hop—show your true colors, come out of your shell.
    

Make everybunny happy!

How does your family celebrate Easter?
I'm all ears!