The End of a Decade

Well, here we are, not only at the end of another year, but at the end of another decade of living. It's kind of crazy to think of where we were ten years ago at the turn of the century. I was home for Christmas after completing my first semester at what was then Ricks College. Nicholas was finishing up his mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in Brisbane, Australia. We all wondered what the infamous Y2K would bring, but as the clock struck midnight, the world kept right on turning.

Now, ten years have passed. Nicholas and I got re-acquainted when he returned from his mission. We were married, finished our schooling, and now have four beautiful children of our own. It's crazy what a decade of living can accomplish! It's wonderful though, and I'm pleased to say that this decade, though full of ups and downs, has contained some of the most precious days of my life. Who can ever forget those tender feelings on your wedding day, or the tears that are shed over each new baby as you first hold them in your arms? I know I never will. So, even though we turn now to a new decade of living, and all of the changes and challenges it will bring, we end this year, and this decade, will a fond farewell. Good-bye 2009. And 2010, here we come!

Three Generations of Fishermen

Our latest trip to Oklahoma to spend time with my side of the family included two very special occasions (That is unless you consider me kicking Jason's butt on the Wii boxing game a special occasion!). The first you can read about in the previous posts--Mason's baby blessing. The second was an outing with just the boys that we had been planning for quite some time. Let me explain. For any of you who know anything about the McArthur men (McArthur is my maiden name), they are all crazy hunters. They love to hunt anything and everything. (A little too much if you ask me) Every year, all of the McArthur men and boys cast their lots at the chance to hunt in the Annual Southern Utah Deer Hunt. If they are lucky enough to "draw out," they make the trek to St. George, invade poor Grandma McArthur (now Rogers), and hunt until all of the tags are full. It is a family tradition that goes back and back. The only problem is, I am not a McArthur man, and neither is my sweet and tender-hearted husband who honors my dislike of hunting by avoiding the sport. So, that places Nick in kind of a hard place--trying to mingle with the McArthur men, but not going on the yearly McArthur Men Bonding Trip. It also creates a disconnect between our boys and the McArthur boy cousins who will inevitably be inducted into this hunting practice as soon as they can legally carry a gun. Consequently, this "McArthur" woman, and her clan of Hoskins men, have been trying to come up with a good solution to this problem. The obvious answer: A new tradition. Not one that takes place of the old tradition, but another tradition that my boys can participate in. Therefore, may we present, an equally manly, yet more humane tradition: The annual McArthur/Hoskins Fishing Trip. This year the boys (Grandpa McArthur, Uncle Jason, Nicholas, and Spencer--hopefully all of them will eventually participate.) simply drove a few hours to Lake Watonga in Southern Oklahoma; but, hopefully, as the years progress, and the pocket book enlarges, they can all go, and go to bigger and better fishing locations. As for now, Lake Watonga will have to do. And even though it was the middle of winter, and most of the lake was frozen over, the trout were still biting.

Here is a shot of them on the outing,



Spencer reeling in his first fish, (don't mind the pink gloves!)



Spencer and Daddy holding his fish--Daddy had to hold it so it wouldn't bite Spencer :)



and Nick and Spencer with the catches of the day.

All Dressed in White

A Name and A Blessing

We recently had the privilege of giving our final child, Mason McKay Hoskins, a name and a blessing. The blessing was supposed to take place at my parent's ward in Edmond, Oklahoma; however, after a terrible snow storm hit, we found ourselves stranded at home with all church services being canceled. We were stressed and discouraged, especially since Nick's parents had made the trip from Utah to be with us for the special day. Having no other real options, we decided, with the bishop's permission, to hold the blessing in my parent's home. My oldest and youngest brothers braved the storm and joined us for the ceremony. What at first seemed like a disappointment, actually turned into a tremendous blessing, literally. As Mason's blessing stated, the Lord intended for the blessing to take place at home; it was supposed to take place in the presence of family alone. In that way our little family gathering was not only very significant, but as his blessing stated, symbolic of his life to come. We chose to name Mason after the beloved prophet David O. McKay, mainly because of President's McKay's strong positions on the family, and especially fatherhood. In choosing this name, we hoped our precious baby boy would choose to make his primary focus in life fatherhood and family. On this special day, he certainly was blessed to this end.
I am so grateful for modern prophets who lead, guide, and inspire us to be the Lord's chosen people. I am grateful for the inspiration for this little baby's name, and for his special spirit and apparent capacity to honor it. I am grateful for a husband who holds the Holy Priesthood with the power to speak on behalf of the Lord, prophesying of the life this child will lead and the joy he will be to our family. I am especially grateful for this precious baby boy, for his brother and sisters, and for the sealing power avaiable in the Lord's temples which allow us to be together forever as a family. Although on this day we gave our son Mason a name and a blessing, in many ways we were all reminded of the name we all bear, even that of our Savior Jesus Christ, and the blessing that discipleship affords.

Here are a few pictures of the special day including:

The men in the blessing circle,



our own little family, (well not so little anymore)



and those present at the blessing.



It was a day I will never forget. And by the way, Happy 35th Anniversary Mom and Dad. What a privilege to bless our baby boy on your special day.

On Christmas Day in the Morning

I saw three kids come running in,
on Christmas Day, on Christmas Day.
I saw three kids come running in,
on Christmas day in the morning!











(Phew! Christmas is hard work!)

For Unto Us A Son Is Born

There is something about having a baby close to Christmas that seems to give clarity and added insight into the familiar Christmas story. I distinctly remember being in church one Sunday during my pregnancy with Madison. It was the day after my due date, and I was rather emotional--as most post date pregnant women become. I was sitting on the second row, and a close friend of mine was giving the talk. I don't remember everything about her talk, but I do remember a few words she spoke about Mary, the mother of Christ. She discussed the young mother, and the hardships she faced as she traveled so many miles at the end of her own difficult pregnancy. That day, as I sat in church and contemplated Mary's struggles, it put my own struggles and suffering into perspective. I couldn't help but weep as I considered the common thread that all mothers share. For the special musical number that day, the relief society sisters sang and signed the words to the beloved Christmas Hymn "Silent Night". As I attempted to sing those words, the tears came again.

Silent night, holy night.
All is calm. All is bright.
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child.
Holy Infant so tender and mild.
Sleep in Heavenly Peace.
Sleep in Heavenly Peace.

The image of the innocent and yound Mary, finally holding that precious little child, gave me hope and courage to endure the final days of my own pregnancy. It also made the moment of seeing my new baby girl so sweet and so fulfilling. We brought her home from the hospital on Christmas Eve night, the best Christmas present we could have ever asked for.

Now, again, I have had the privilege of having another baby near the Christmas season. This time, a special baby boy. As Mason was born a month before Christmas, his birth caused me to reflect more on Mary as a young mother rather than Mary during her journey to and her first nights in Bethlehem. One day, as I was listending to a holiday CD, the words of the song touched my heart and gave voice to the feelings I had been having about my new little one.

Mary, did you know
that your Baby Boy would one day walk on water?
Mary, did you know
that your Baby Boy would save our sons and daughters?
Did you know
that your Baby Boy has come to make you new?
This Child that you delivered will soon deliver you.

Mary, did you know
that your Baby Boy will give sight to a blind man?
Mary, did you know
that your Baby Boy will calm the storm with His hand?
Did you know
that your Baby Boy has walked where angels trod?
When you kiss your little Baby you kissed the face of God?

Did Mary know and understand the importance of that little babe she rocked? Did it change the way she treated him? Was she kinder? More patient? More loving? It is my opinion that she was. She raised the very Son of God, the Savior of the World. It made me wonder, who is it that I am raising? And how does the knowledge that my own children are an inheritance from the Lord affect what kind of mother I am? Perhaps my days would go better if I asked myself these questions every morning before facing the day.

Madison's Five Year Photos

I know I shouldn't be one of those "braggy" parents, but I just can't help it. I think I have the most lovely children around. Hence, the need to post a few of the photos from Maddi's five year photo shoot.









And the best part of the photos is, she's more beautiful inside than out!

Our Girl's Day Out

While some people think it is strange, I have decided that I will only have birthday parties for my children until they are three years old. Yes, you read that right, three. There are a host of reasons for this decision including, but not limited to, the fact that I am insanely picky about what toys my children have and I don't want to deal with the drama of who to invite as children grow older. In lieu of parties, Nick and I decided that as they get older, we will make our childrens' birthday celebrations more private and personal. Since four is the first year without a party, we decided that for our kids fourth birthdays we would do something extra special just with family members. (i.e. Maddi's fourth birthday trip to the American Girl Store in NYC). Then, beginning with their fifth birthday, they can invite one or two of their closest friends and have a special birthday outing.

Maddi is the first of our children to reach this milestone age, and after careful consideration, we planned a fun outing to commemorate her special day. The theme for this outing was to be "A Girl's Day Out". And what do girls do best? Well, shop of course. So, I constructed two darling purse invitations and invited Maddi's best friend and her mother to join us for lunch and an afternoon of shopping. In addition to purse invites, I also created two lovely purse cakes for the girls with real coins baked into the batter just like my grandmother used to do. I also gave the girls each some money to shop with.

Here is a photo of my handiwork.



We had a lovely time at lunch,



and the girls were so cute as they shopped and shopped.



The highlight of the shopping trip; however, was a stop in the jewelry store to get Maddi's ears pierced. She had asked and asked during the previous year, and so I told her she could have them done for her fifth birthday. In all honesty, I thought she would back out, but, she fearlessly jumped into the chair and bravely endured the piercing without a single tear. (The local anesthetic Daddy provided probably helped a little with that! Hey, a doctor husband has to be good for something!) She is so proud of her new earrings, (If I wouldn't have been such a nervous wreck I might have thought to get a photo!) and the "big girl" status they afford her. Truly she is a big girl, and such a beloved daughter and grand-daughter. She is a joy to have in our family, and such a good helper.

Happy Fifth Birthday Maddi! And thanks for a fabulous girls day out!

Oh Christmas Tree

As I have mentioned in several of my previous posts, shortly after Nicholas and I were married, we sat down and created a list of traditions we wanted to have in our family. One of these traditions was to cut down our own Christmas tree rather than having a fake one or buying one from a Christmas tree lot. When we decided to make this a tradition, we didn't think it would be that hard to accomplish. We did a little research on tree farms, and one cold Decemeber afternoon, after we both had returned from work and school, we set out to find the perfect tree. We drove to a tree farm up in Ogden Canyon. It was dark when we arrived, and the ground was covered in several feet of snow. We hiked out to the Christmas trees with our ax and rope in hand. After looking for over an hour, we decided the trees were "inadequate"--in other words, pretty scrawny little things. We posed for a few make-believe pictures of us cutting down a tree (Sometime I may dig out a few of these and post them), and then drove back and purchased a beautifully shaped little tree from a tree lot in Bountiful. It was a lovely little tree, with even branches and a fresh pine scent; but, after flooding the tree stand and warping $200 worth of wrapped books from the BYU Bookstore which were lying under the tree, we gave up on the quaint tradition. The day after Christmas we bought ourselves a fake tree and used it for the next six years while we attended college and then medical school.

At the end of medical school, when we were preparing to move to Pennsylvania to complete our intern year of residency, we pulled out the tree and Nick agreed to let us sell it and set aside some money each year for a real tree. Since we couldn't locate a tree farm close enough to our Pennsylvania home to prove practical, we settled for a tree bought at a nearby tree lot. It was also a lovely little tree, and this time, we put down plastic under the tree stand and kept all "perishable" gifts out of reach so that when we flooded the tree stand (which we did) the damage was much more manageable. Our experience with this real tree was a positive one, and we vowed to never have a fake tree again.

Having a real tree, however, was not the original goal. The tradition was supposed to be cutting down our own real tree. So, not long after arriving in Minnesota I went to work to find a tree farm where we could finally cut down our own tree. Much to our delight, we found a tree farm not too far out of town with beautiful and reasonably priced trees. As a result, for the first time in our eight and a half years of marriage, we cut down our own Christmas tree. Hooray!! The tree farm workers looked at us a little strangely as we carried our two week old baby out onto the freezing tree lot, but hey, tradition is tradition, and this one was long overdue!

Here we are at the tree farm in front of the tree we picked,

and here are Dad and the kids working hard to cut it down.

Here are the kids stringing popcorn and cranberries for the tree,

decorating the tree,

and sitting in front of the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve in their matching Christmas Jammies.

Mason McKay

Our Darling Angel...






(Two weeks old)