By Nettie H. Francis
When I was young, my family held a special “Garden Family Council” early each spring. Sitting around a big table and with Daddy acting as scribe, all thirteen of us would shout out everything we wanted to plant in our family garden that year. Tomatoes, beans, corn, carrots, lettuce and radishes were regulars. Some years we were more daring, adding cantaloupe, big blue morning glories, and Jack-Be-Little pumpkins to our garden wish list.

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By Nettie H. Francis
On February 8, 2010, the Boy Scouts of America will celebrate its 100th birthday. Founded in England by Lord Robert Baden Powell, a military hero, in 1907, the Scouting movement was brought to the United States by American journalist William Boyce, who became acquainted with the organization when a young Boy Scout helped him through the thick London fog. Boyce was so impressed with the helpful boy who wouldn’t accept a tip, that he made an appointment to see Lord Baden Powell and learn more of the Scouting movement. He eventually founded the Boy Scouts of America based on the ideals and activities designed by Baden Powell.

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By Nettie H. Francis
The funds are low, and the debts are high, and you want to smile but you have to sigh.” (Anonymous) The world is in a crunch, a financial crisis that has now become an emotional and physical challenge for many families.

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By Nettie H. Francis
We recently downsized everything…(except children). One less car, one less payment, less television, one less phone contract, one less hobby, less shopping, one less school, one less weekly commitment, less media. In short, we simplified every aspect of our lives that we could. Not because of the struggling economy (although that is a great motivator), but because my husband just read “Little House on the Prairie,” by Laura Ingalls Wilder. He was inspired by the fact that the Ingalls family had fewer things and more time, less money and more land, fewer distractions and more quiet moments. In other words, theirs was a House of a Little Less.

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By Nettie H. Francis
I am now the mother of twins. Hooray! Hooray! Friends warned me that there would be twice as many diapers, twice as many feedings, and twice as much crying. “Never mind,” I said. “By now I’m twice as good at being a mother.” Besides, one mother told me that the first six children are the hardest, and then it “just gets easier.” Now that I have eight children, I’m expecting my second wind any day. Unfortunately, all I’ve experienced so far is total chaos.

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By Nettie H. Francis
It’s temple morning!” I can still remember the excitement in my sister’s voice each Saturday as she woke me up. At twelve and ten years of age, and the oldest children in the family, we had the responsibility of being in charge while our parents attended the temple each Saturday morning. Rising well before any of us woke; they would participate in temple ordinances, and then return home just after breakfast.
Part of the thrill for us children was the prospect of eating Cheerios while they were gone. Cold cereal—a rare treat in our family—was enough to get all 8 of us out of bed, dressed, and ready for the day in half the time it took on a school morning.
Then we would sit at the table, say a blessing, and thoroughly enjoy our cereal and bananas. By the time the last bowl was finished, our parents were usually walking through the front door.

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By Nettie H. Francis
My child should be in A.P. Primary,” the mother said, looking at me seriously. As the primary president, I had just informed her that her daughter’s January birthday would hold her back from the Sunbeam class for another year. “But she just barely misses the deadline by 14 days, and she already sings all of the primary songs,” the mother insisted. “It would be unfair to make her attend nursery for another year.”

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By Nettie H.
Francis
School days, school days, good old golden rule days…” As summer turns to fall, the smell of new pencils and the anticipation of colorful classrooms and invigorating teachers turn our thoughts to school. Moving to Las Vegas seven years ago, the education of my children was foremost on my mind. I often read the local newspaper to familiarize myself with the city. Unfortunately, one of

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By Nettie H. Francis
Several summers ago, my husband was asked to be the Director at the local Boy Scout Camp. I was thrilled! Our whole family could live in the cool mountains for six weeks. I was especially excited at the opportunities my children would have, out of the heat of the city, roaming freely in the great outdoors.

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By Nettie H. Francis
It would be impossible to discuss parenthood without some comment on the chore that looms over all young mothers: Potty-Training. When my first son was two-years-old, I delved with excitement into the mission at hand. Unfortunately, the process (which spanned a year) left me older and wiser, and vowing that I would never again train another breathing thing.

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By Nettie H. Francis
No television for a month.” The members of the Silverstone Ward, Tule Springs Stake, were surprised when Bishop Horlacher issued the challenge from the pulpit during Sacrament meeting one Sunday. Then he continued, “Also, no media—DVDs, video games, or internet—except as it relates to work or school matters.” The Bishop asked families to instead spend time getting to know each other and studying the scriptures. Needless to say, the ward members were surprised by the challenge.

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By Nettie H. Francis
Last month my husband and I were delighted to discover that we were expecting baby #7. One well meaning friend, however, asked us carefully, “But how will you afford another child?”

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By Nettie H. Francis
Molasses—a gooey, sticky substance that pours very slowly, like honey. It was used in pioneer times to sweeten cookies and candy. I use it to make gingerbread at Christmas time. But beyond that, it holds deeper meaning for me. Molasses describes motherhood. Or at least, I feel like I am moving in molasses whenever I try to accomplish anything as a mother, as if I am running and running and getting nowhere.

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By Nettie H. Francis
Last month we took our children to a winter park. On the hour, electric blowers, hidden in the tree tops, began blowing beautiful, white snow out onto the park green. Immediately, the onlookers squealed, cheered and danced in the soft, falling snow.

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By Nettie H. Francis
When I was growing up, my family had a Christmas Cookie Day each December. The entire day was spent making different kinds of cookies for our neighbors and friends. We loved it!

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