Shelly

(with exchange student French friend, Noeme, in Paris)

Shelly was born eight months and three weeks after the marriage of her parents! I call that anxious! During the pregnancy someone suggested that the baby might be a girl. I pooh-poohed that. YOU START A FAMILY WITH A BOY! Imagine my surprise and secret delight to look down at this little girl. Dr. Broadbent was anxious to attend a medical convention, so he did a procedure (this was all new to me), and I woke up in labor the next day. We had no insurance at the time, so I opted out of any drugs. It was intense, but it did end. Actually we paid for Shelly ($450) with the proceeds from the Gina Bachauer Piano Competition that Chris had won the previous July! She can thank a smashing Chopin Piano Concert #2 for that! Otherwise she might STILL be in hock--sitting in the hospital wondering when she would see the light of day...The nurses were impressed with Chris' labor coaching. He literally "directed the music" as he watched the monitor. Our pediatrician, Dr. Clayton, was the ultimate kind and gentle doctor. He had a cult following in Provo, and we were so fortunate to get into his practice. He walked into my hospital room and said soooo lovingly, "You have a beautiful baby girl...!" I was instructed to "Just love her."

We took her home on a picture postcard perfect Provo autumn day. Chris inspected her and decided to trim her fingernails. Who knew that those little nails had real skin attached? She bled and screamed, and we felt so awful. Everything was a first with Shelly. During the first days of nursing (Now THAT'S an experience!), we had this little ineffective breast pump that looked more like a bike horn. Chris, trying to help, came at me with that thing, and I came unglued! So so funny to remember it. We experimented with giving her some peppermint tea flavored a little with honey when she seemed like her stomach hurt. Later on we were also guilty of dipping her binky in honey in the middle of the night to get her back to sleep--complete no-no's! We were so poor. I bottled pearsauce to feed her when she got older, and I purchased a sewing machine on time and began to make clothes for her. We had one dozen cloth diapers which I swished around in the bathtub because we had no washing machine. At some point we caught onto disposable--they were fairly new. I remember buying them in bulk at the old Provo Sears store and balancing them on top of the stroller all the way back home. We called our baby "Beaner" (from Shelly/Jelly Bean) and played a game with her where we'd bounce her in front of the full-length mirror in our apartment and say, "There's a Beaner in the mirror!" She giggled and giggled.

When she was about four months old we walked a few blocks from our home to the old Provo Tabernacle (now the Provo Center Temple) to stake conference. Towards the end she began filling up her diaper AND FILLING AND FILLING!! I hastily exited with the stuff practically dripping off of her! It was a harrowing experience getting her home without leaving a nasty trail! The white shawl thereafter became more antique white!

Shelly as a baby was the quiet observer. She would just sit passively and take in the world around her with a straight expression for lengthy periods. We wondered what she was thinking. Eventually her head fuzz turned to hair, and she became an adorable little toddling girl. She has always been more logical than the rest of us. Her scientific tendencies stand alone in our family except for my sister Norma. I see a lot of Shelly in Norma consequently. I hope I'm around to see what Shelly does with her University of Minnesota masters in genetics!! Shelly and I loved to go to girl scouts together. We love to knit together. She has become a domestic queen--cooking, sewing--all the home arts. As a teen-ager she had NO interest in any of that. I remember once she forgot the cream of tartar in some snickerdoodle cookies, so she just logically rolled the cookie balls in the cream of tartar! She leapt at the chance to be an exchange student, and she enthusiastically dived into the prospect of serving a mission. She and I started a journal when she was twelve and going to the temple in Washington DC for the first time. We write in it and pass it back and forth--sometimes years pass. Together we have discovered some of the true magic of the world. I remember when I was taking her to Paris, Idaho, to get a passport. We commented on her upcoming travels and marvelled at them. I told her it was magic, and we shouldn't talk about magic TOO much! Shelly is one of my best best friends.

At one point Shelly wanted to be a cheerleader in high school. She would need $1000 for that privilege, so I took a summer job for exactly a month waiting tables at the Ranch Hand, the local truck stop. I didn't think much of it at the time--it involved lots of night shifts and some pretty gnarly truck drivers. My friend Bruce tells this story and makes me out as some sort of Mother Teresa! Had I known I would achieve "saint" status through this experience, I would have done it sooner! Ha ha. (I DID take the opportunity to get in the face of EVERY one of my students who came in and make them promise me they wouldn't end up there!)

Now she is the whirling dervish busy mother of five. I am so happy she is part of my story.