Goals for 2019

1. No criticizing

2. Restrooms

3. Manage Social Media

4. Book of Mormon

5. Temple Family

6. Revelation Journal

7. More Family Time

8. Full Church Name

9. Effective Ministering (weekly)

Visiting NOLA - New Orleans, Louisiana

[  ] Wed:
Royal street
* Cafe beignet
Bourbon street
[  ] Thurs:
Jackson square
St Louis cathedral
Decatur street governors mansion
French market 10am-6pm
* Cafe du Monde

St Charles Street car

Magazine street
* Lafayette Square

Washington Square
* Palace market 7pm-midnight

Garden district - Mansions
* Buckner mansion
Cemetary number 1

Voodoo tour

Merry Christmas

 

Dear Family and Friends,

We hope this year has brought you more joy than sadness, more faith than fear, and closer to the Savior than any other year before.  We know for our family it has done the above and when that happens the year feels like a success no matter how fast it flies by and this year really did.

Travis, strapping young lad that he is, loves his job, is starting to work out, has continued to serve with the youth in our church and has been the fearless leader and constant rudder to our Whiting ship, steering us where we need to be.  He is the best leader of our family and we would follow him most anywhere. 

Mary finalized all of the paperwork for fostering in Texas and got the Whitings back to doing that.  She loves to volunteer at the kids’ schools and spend as much time with her family as possible.  She finds plenty of time to spend with friends and serve others as well.  She is still trying to stay young at heart and ridiculously silly, but is only moderately successful.

Isabella, 16, has decided to graduate a year early and done all the associated stuff to do that. She did ACTs, SATs, an extra year of home study Seminary throughout the summer, took a killer course load this year – which everyone discouraged because heaven forbid we “fail” at something, applied to colleges, and continued to rock a ridiculous amount of extra curricular activities while doing so including her favorites Cross Country, Theatre, and Orchestra.  The first semester she has proven what an ace she is at whatever she attempts by keeping it all together and maintaining top marks.  She has also started driving, dating, and banking on her own.  All of these with various levels of success and quite a few teachable moments along the way.  Overall she is learning to adult and it is a fun journey to watch.

Wyatt, 14, has probably experienced the most change this year of all the kids.  He went from being a pubescent boy to a man child.  The rage and aggression of a teenage boy was quite shocking and alarming to me, but those days are behind us and Wyatt has turned into the best kind of man ever.  He has started high school, determined his favorite subjects to be Seminary, a before school religious education provided by our church, and Cross Country – most shocking as he previously hated to run and never did except the required mile in gym class twice a year.  He is a great student, son, and brother.  He is especially tender with our foster babies and an amazing help to me around the house or with anything I need.  He is working on his Eagle Project in Scouting and he has amazed me repeatedly this year in the best of ways.

Issac, 13, continues to be in the complicated space of middle school and boy to man.  He is most like Travis and sometimes I feel like I know him the least as he doesn’t communicate as readily or easily with me about every detail of his day.  That being said, this boy is always happy and easy to be around.  He did summer swim team again this summer and earned many awards and accolades.  He works hard when asked, and is finally learning to adjust to Texas which was the hardest for him over any of our family.  Academically he has become less carefree and has found a bit of a competitive edge when it comes to having the best grades in our house.  He rallies amazingly well and considering the four kids’ year average of unweighted grades to date is 93.48% that is no small feat.  He takes his leadership responsibilities in church very seriously and has thrived serving in the Deacon’s Quorum Presidency.

Kody, 11, has found his passion this year in sports.  He started playing year round, from baseball in the spring, football in the fall, and basketball in the winter.  Despite his diminutive size he is very quick and a hustler and so does amazingly well at holding his own.  We don’t hold any hope for professional or collegiate play, but he is finding high levels of happiness in it and a better sense of work ethic, so we will call it a win.  He is my social butterfly of a child and more readily seeks out “playdates” – he hates when I call them that, than any of my other children.  He is learning to manage his feisty side better and so more often I am left amazed at his sweet side that is perhaps more selfless than most any 11 year old.  He is a great thinker and has a very clear sense of right and wrong.  He loves a good debate, but still cuddles up to me for snuggles and back rubs.  He reminds me that these years are flying by way to quickly.

We hope that the upcoming year is filled with even more blessings, goodness, and love.  There are major changes afoot for our family, but we excitedly wait to embrace them.  We hope you all know that true happiness comes in and through the Savior of the World, Jesus Christ, and act upon his every promise for long term, eternal happiness.

Love,

The Whitings

Quotable

"There are two types of endings because most people give up at the part of the story where things are the worst, where the situation feels hopeless.  But that's when hope is needed most.  Only those who persevere can find their true ending."

Crap, Crap, Crap

I've never had a car accident.  And I didn't really ever intend to.  I guess no one does which is why it is called an accident.  But, this past week it happened on Friday.  As I was leaving a gas station, I went to turn left.  I looked left and right and knew I was watching for the white, sedan to my right to time my leaving the gas station.  When clear I glanced again and pulled out.  I heard brakes squealing and turned left toward the sound to see in slow motion a car about to hit me.  I closed my eyes, felt the impact, and heard the crunching of metal on metal.  I opened my eyes, still unbelieving.  I had not seen this car, where had it come from.  It was my first question and still the question I have most thought about.  I really had looked and so much of my unease is that I don't know that I can trust myself anymore. 

Another girl in the other car, and myself were both traveling by ourselves.  This is probably for the best.  She was fine and out of the car as I was still observing my surroundings trying to make heads or tails out of what had happened.  It was at this point that I felt warm liquid running down my forehead.  I wondered if it was sweat and then saw the drop land on my lap and the red blood spread outward.  There were other drops already on my pants.  How had I missed that? I reached over to the glove box to pull out napkins and hold against my head.  A man rushed to me door.  The window totally shattered and laying over me (and later in me - we had to pull some small shards out of my skin) was open to his asking if I was okay, telling my to turn off the car, asking if I can get out of the car.  I offer to drive to the side of the road instead of being in the smack dab center worried I may block school traffic which is about to pick up.  He says he doesn't think it will drive as the front will is at an awkward angle.  I turn off the car, realize I can't open the door, and he struggles with it finally creaking it open enough to help me out of the car.  Glass rains to the ground from my front and back.  And I feel some glass shift in my clothing.  We walk to the side of he road as traffic continues around.  The man has already called the police.  They are sending an ambulance and fire as well since I am injured.

I call Travis and everyone starts to arrive.  I verify that I am mainly okay to the EMS and they let me into the back of their truck to undress and pour the glass out of my clothing.  After verifying that both the other girl, Kathryn, and I are okay, they leave.  Fire trucks arrive and start sweeping glass out of the road.  The police ask questions of the witness and each of us drivers.  Travis arrives and takes over as people from surrounding shops bring water, check on us, and offer me Band-Aids.  Once we have settled everything with the police, taken pictures, and followed the towing company, we leave.  Travis drives me home.  I am still in shock that this has happened to me.  More than anything as I was t-boned on the drivers door, I just felt thankful about how great it really did turn out.  I was relatively unscathed.  All the damage, no matter how frustrating, is just stuff.

As I was in my father in law's truck that is the worst of it.  I text them to let them know.  I feel terrible.  My(our) insurance will not cover this, my father in law's must.  He only has liability.  The car is a loss for them.  Uggg. Although my in laws have forgiven me and Gary, when he saw me lovingly and tearfully embraced me saying to not worry about the car, I can't seem to forgive myself.  I feel like I owe them a terrible debt.  Not only of the car, but that would at least easily be remedied if they would let me write them a check.  But alas, I am learning humility.  I am learning to forgive myself.  I am learning to accept the help of others.  I am still a work in progress, but a grateful work in progress.

Ridiculously Proud

The only time I can recall physically trying to hurt my child, was Wyatt.  It was maybe 4 years ago.  He was probably about 10.  It is probably the most cringe worthy parenting moment, I can remember.

You see, my Wyatt, he has never been a runner.  Ridiculously strong-Yes, athletic-Yes, coordinated-Yes, running-No, big firm all caps NO.  Not because he wasn't capable, he just hated it.  One particular break, Thanksgiving I believe, I had decided our family was going to run from our house to the nearby gym, 1 mile, and then do a family class.  The kids were all excited except Wyatt who didn't want to run.  Begrudgingly he went, but about halfway through the run and a fair amount of complaining already and while going up a hill, he decided he would no longer participate. He just say down in the middle of the road and refused to move.  I tried to negotiate, bargain, bribe, and threaten him to no avail.  It wasn't a busy road, but I was worried and I was angry.  In my anger and frustration I decided that if I pinched him, maybe the pain would be enough motivation for him to run.  I did it once and he was unmoved.  I did it a second time harder and still nothing.  At this point I looked to my husband, who is always the voice of calm and reason.  He bent down and hefted him up and deposited him on the side of the road to solve our first and most pressing concern.  I can't remember how we got him to the class in the end, but once there, he happily participated and walked home instead of running afterwards.

Flash forward two years.  The expectation in our home was that each of our children would play one sport, play one instrument, and be successful in school.  Although Wyatt is athletic...the academics are cake for him, the musical instrument is enjoyable most of the time for him, but the sports is a necessary evil.  So as we approached middle school and he knew he needed a sport he decided to play soccer with a lot of his friends.  In his first season he started on the JV team, won most improved player, and become a solid player despite his lack of any experience.  Afterwards he was so excited he joined boys volleyball.  There he also excelled without any experience and I was excited that perhaps an athlete was born.

Another year later and we decided to move to Texas.  The middle school offered neither of those sports and he didn't want to participate any longer despite two amazing experiences. I reiterated our rule and he conceded to play club soccer.  I signed him up, but due to the late sign up they had filled the spots on the team.  His 8th grade year he escaped without any sport, but I prepared him to start mentally preparing for 9th grade because that would not be happening again.  He decided that cross country is the sport he would choose.  Imagine my absolute shock and blow me over with a puff of wind surprise.  I cautiously asked him if he was sure; he told me yes.  I prepared him that there would be no quitting midway through the season.  He rolled his eyes at me.  The year started and Isabella and I watched with apprehension. 

He was by far the slowest on the team.  He admitted the practices were hard.  Some days he was very sore.  But increasingly I heard less and less about it.  About three weeks into the school year and 7 weeks into the season, he said - I think cross country is my favorite class this year.  Here they practice not only before school, but you take the class as your first period class too.  What?!?!?  He said I really like the alone time to think each day.  Even though the running still sometimes sucks it's gotten a lot easier, but it is just good personal time for me to think and I enjoy that.  Well color me happy to see his attitude change.

Starting the season his time trials averaged in the  8 1/2 minute mile ranges, both for 1 mile and 2.  But then about three weeks ago, I got a text.  He had run his 1 mile trial in 6:48, a new PR for sure.  We were so proud.  He thought it was because of his time, but I explained it was because of his effort.  He told me that his 2 mile trial was still around 16 minutes.  I told him that I though so much of running was mental for him.  His doubts and fears kept him reserved on the longer course, but I felt confident with the improvements I had seen in both his running and attitude that he could do much better. And so yesterday I was not surprised, but still amazingly enthused to get a text saying his new 2 mile PR was 13:53.  His first mile was 6:46 a new PR and his second 7:07.  Once again he was beyond elated and I finally sat him down to fully explain how proud of him I was.

You see not because of his time, although he is getting dang fast, but because our school is so deep in talent, especially on the cross country team.  With that time, he still is not able to run on Varsity or JV only the fastest 7 run or both.  But he still puts in his top effort day after day.  He tries hard, makes good practice habits, and his hard work is paying off.  He has changed his attitude, he has proven that the competition was never about anyone else, but about him seeing the fruits of his labor.  And that is something he and we as his parents can be dang proud of.  I asked him to send me a selfie and he didn't understand.  He said I already showered and got ready for school.  I said to send a selfie anyway.  He did and I found exactly what I was looking for.  The glowing eyes, and sweet smile of being proud of yourself when you have shown, even yourself, that you are capable of great, amazing things.

May They Always Climb In Bed With Me

Each morning, I wake before the kids do or around the same time.  The two older ones prepare for early morning seminary as well as cross country and school.  They leave by 6:15am.  Around that time the next child, Issac, wakes up.  He preps for middle school cross country which starts before school at 7am.  He is out the door by 6:45 and that is around the time the last little guy, Kody wakes up.  Prior to this year and all of them being in middle or high school, I woke up with everyone, made hot breakfasts, helped prep them for school, and walked them to their bus stops.  This year everything has changed.

Instead they don't want to eat a big breakfast before running - toast all around, maybe cereal.  They are so tired from their ever growing teenage bodies they don't want to talk, and my son Issac informed me if I was walking to the bus stop, he would walk at a different time than me using a different route.  (Sigh)

So instead now I stay in bed.  I study my scriptures, I write in my journal, I have really sincere, lengthy prayers.  But the best part of this all is that the new routine provides a parade of bedtime partners and cuddles.  Wyatt is typically the first one in.  He does everything quickly and efficiently.  He can get ready in half the time his sister does.  So he comes and snuggles with me.  He tells me the highlights of the day and what he is most excited for.  He clings closest to my side throughout our cuddles and asks me questions about what I will be doing during the day. He then leaves to finish up and Isabella comes in.  She usually shares her stress and/or anxiety with me.  She asks for advice, she rests her head on my stomach or chest and I stroke her hair and reassure her that all will be well in her life.  As they leave Issac takes his cue and wanders in.  He has usually done all the lunch packing, prepping, except clothes.  So still half dressed or in PJ's he climbs into my bed and catches the last twenty minutes of sleep before he has to quickly put on running clothes and leave.  He leaves me in a hurry but always with two kisses.  The first one rushed, and then because this is the only time I get to see his sweet, tender side, I ask him for a second one, so I can appreciate his last moments of boyhood; for now he still obliges me.  Travis takes him to cross country and in bounds, Kody.  He is totally prepped for school - hair done, cologne on, sometimes even sneakers and backpack on.  I always remind him he has at least another thirty minutes.  I coerce him into taking off the shoes and backpack before he climbs into bed.  He snuggles close smelling of spicy, yummy man at age 11, but still in the body of an 8 year old, tells me how excited he is to see his friends, to go to a certain class, to get to school.  Before long he bounds right back out with an "I love you, Mom".  He leaves for the bus stop as early as we will let him out the door.

And my parade is over, my house is empty, but my heart is full.  These kids may not be perfect, my parenting most certainly isn't, but we're creating our own kind of heaven on Earth with these traditions.  Out with the old, in with the new, always adapting and changing and growing - TOGETHER!