Why I will always encourage my children to read fantasy

I just received an e-mail today from a woman in my critique group. She was submitting her chapters for the month and decided to add a little diatribe about how the children's book market is glutted with fantasy. And do we really want to be filling our children's minds with satanism and life-after-death in the here and now, and other garbage? Of course, in the same breath she went on to say that she wanted more books about children in the real world and their wonderful imaginations.

Excuse me while I bang my forehead against my keyboard.

What more is fantasy, especially fantasy for children, but the ultimate representation of that boundless and wonderful imagination so peculiar to humans, especially children? The ability to create entire new worlds is the birthright of writers and a testament to the capacity of the human mind. The ability to create, whether it is another human being or an entire world complete with magical creatures, made up languages, etc. is a gift from our Heavenly Father. It is one of the few ways that we truly become like Him. Creators.

Beyond that, I've never understood the idea that fantasy is satanism or that magic is some sort of conterfeit perversion for the power of God. The idea holds some sway with a few members of my church (I've heard them speak in Relief Society before), but not most. I will always remember and love Elder Uchtdorf for speaking of his love for Harry Potter and referencing it in an address he gave at a Stake Conference when I was in college.

Does fantasy contain magic? Yes. Is it sorcery and some manifestion of the devil? Heavens no! Fantasy is nothing more than the eternal struggle between good and evil set in another place. It teaches the power of love, friendship, kindness and sacrifice in the face of love of power, greed, cruelty, and selfishness.

These struggles in a child's everyday life or in the world around us are not only complicated, but oftentimes, gruesome and harsh. And too often, the wrong side wins. What better way to help a child make sense of the different forces and motivations of the characters in their world, than through a book set in another land. Sometimes taking a step into the unknown helps us come to understand human nature and ourselves like nothing else.

I am deeply religious, and a lover of fantasy. Many of the greatest fantasy writers of our time have been devout Christians who saw their characters as archetypes of Christ, and their stories as religious allegories.

Please don't deprive your children of the rich learning experience that is fantasy. I wish this world was more like Hogwarts, or Middle Earth, or Narnia. A place where there is magic and good always wins.

Sometimes children are embarrassing...

And when they are I would just like to say that they in no way reflect the thoughts and feelings of their parents. Got it? I have nothing to do with it.

Max has a new thing. He likes to point out the "bad guys". Unfortunately this leads to some embarrassingly public denunciations of the "bad guys" in our every day life.

Like the guys in hats and sun glasses at the store. "Look Mom! Bad guys!"

The two African-American men at the restaurant.  "Dad! A bad guy! Another bad guy!" (This was so embarrassing. I can't even tell you. All Rob could do was correct Max, apologize and hope his eyes somehow communicated how NOT racist we really are.)

And then today, perhaps the worst. In the hallway of the Disneyland hotel, a somewhat tall (but not super tall) gentleman walked out of his room. Max gasped. "Look! It's a bad guy!"  I responded the way I always do. "That's not a bad guy, Max." But then he went further, yelling, "It's a giant."  And as the man walked past us and down the hall Max kept shouting. "Where's the giant going? Where'd the giant go?"

Are we sure that duct taping a child's mouth is abuse?

The Story of Martin

Many of you have probably read this post on Momastery.

I just wanted to add my experience and what I learned from it about teaching children compassion and standing up for the little guy.  It's not anything I learned by teaching my own children. It's what I learned when I was little, from my mom (who, if you're wondering is awesome so pretty much everyone should learn from her.)

**After writing this story, I don't feel like giving you a list of how you can help your children be more compassionate. I think you can garner those lessons from the story the way it is.**

I think the story of Martin will live on in my family. He will be the experience my children get to hear about when they are older.

Martin was that kid in elementary school that nobody likes. Not because he did anything to deserve it. In fact all the reasons he was hated, left out, and picked on were all the reasons he really needed a friend.

Martin wasn't mean. He was clingy, needy, he wanted so much to be liked. He was lonely. Rejected and abused at home. Rejected and abused at school. I moved into a new school in the second grade. That was when I first saw Martin and saw how rude the other children were to him. It didn't sit right with my little 7-year-old heart. And like everything else that doesn't make sense in the world, I let it all come out to my mom after school.

That's when my mom told me her own story of the kid in school nobody liked. Then she issued me a challenge. She told me she wanted me to be Martin's friend, and that I would probably be his only friend. Not only that, she wanted me to stand up for him when the other kids were unkind.

And she didn't just issue the challenge. She checked up on me...for years. She wanted to know how Martin was doing. Had I stood up for him? Had I smiled and said hello to him? I admit some days I was more sincere in my friendship with Martin than others. Some days it was hard. Some days he was needy. Some days I felt embarrassed. Some days I didn't have the courage to tell people to stop and so instead I only made sure to smile at Martin and let him know I was still his friend.

And yet some days were good. Many times people listened when I told them to stop. Sometimes other kids were kind to Martin as well. I wasn't sacrificing playing with other kids and only spending time with Martin. I wasn't really going out of my way at all. My shows of friendship were mostly done when necessary or as convenient.

And then in the 6th grade, four years later, the most wonderful and saddest part of our entire "friendship" happened.  Martin told me that I was his best friend.  His best friend. Me. Who half the time was still embarrassed and hoped no one was watching when I was his friend. Who didn't go out of my way to invite him to my birthday party or make sure I always played with him at recess.  I felt ashamed.

I tried harder to be a better friend to Martin after that. But I didn't have to do it for very long. That year, Martin ran away from home, was in and out of youth homes and was finally sent away to a special home. I never heard from him again. But before all of that he showed me the large scars on his legs where his dad had purposely burned him, sat next to me in class, laid his head on my shoulder countless times, and kept smiling that huge smile that must have hid so much pain.

I don't know where Martin is today. Given what he had already dealt with in his first eleven years of life, I would consider him a roaring success if he was simply still alive and not in jail. I think about him. Often. I tried to find him on Facebook, but his name is too common. I wish I had been a better friend. I wish I could have understood what I understand now about his life.

For some reason out of all my elementary school experiences, my story of Martin is the one I remember and think about most. In some ways, I think the challenge of it; Of being nice even when it's hard; of standing up for what you believe in; of going against the crowd; of having compassion; all these challenges and lessons from that one experience have made an impact on who I am. They were lessons worth learning. And if my friendship with Martin did nothing for him, it did a lot for me.

This Mother's Prayer

Dear Lord, help me remember when he's up at day's first light,
That soon I'll do the waking, and he'll put up the fight.


And when I come upon him in the middle of a mess,
Please help me, Lord, remember how he makes me feel so blessed.


Oh Father, help me stop to see the light that's in his eyes,
When he tracks mud, or colors walls, before he hears my sighs.

And when he breaks another keepsake, ornament, or vase,
Please help me, Lord, to first clean up the tears upon his face.

Lord, help me to be patient with each kick, hit, or bite,
And know the way to gently teach him how to do what's right.

And on those days that seem to hold frustration more than joy.
Dear Lord, help me remember, that he's just a little boy.


-Amanda Hill

Let it go...Christmas won't be perfect.

I recently saw some people on a forum saying that they love Christmas but they hate the stress. They don't like the stress of buying the perfect present and hosting the family get-together, and all the baking and cooking, and in general trying to make everything perfect and magical for the kids.

If you are looking to create or have the perfect Christmas you are setting yourself up for disappointment. Who's to say what's perfect anyway?

 Today the kids and I made Santa hats out of construction paper, cotton balls, and as you can see from this picture...lots of glue.

Yeah, okay, nobody's project ended up looking like a Santa hat.

But we did get a real nice Cumulus cloud going over here.


This isn't my first try at a Christmas project that didn't go as planned. I plan lots of things and want them to be just as I envision them and they rarely are.  Are you like me?

You may be like me, and envision a fun day of sledding, only to have it end after three minutes because one kid got snow on their chin and the other refused to wear gloves. If you are like me, you swore you were NEVER GOING SLEDDING AGAIN!  If your kids are like mine, the next day they were both talking about it like it had been fun and want to go again.

Or maybe you envision handing out neighbor gifts and singing a spiritual carol at the door, but the only thing your kids will sing is "Santa Claus is Coming to Town".

Or maybe you are trying to make Santa hats and just get a mountain of cotton balls. But in the end my kids didn't look at their project in disappointment. They'd had a blast.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that things ARE NOT going to be perfect, and like Clark Griswald, we've got to stop expecting it and setting ourselves up for failure. The thing is, Christmas is magical for kids with very little effort. They will enjoy anything you try, even if it is a complete failure. Just don't react like I did with the sledding and swear to never go again. Chances are your kids didn't think it was a failure at all.

In Which Jane Gets the Spirit of Christmas.

I've come to the conclusion this month that Christmas is like one big, month-long caffeine rush. It is fun and magical and special and thanks to my Jane, sweet and meaningful.

We are filling stockings for 71 foster kids. It has been quite an endeavor, with all sorts of fun things rolling into our house. It's been hard for these kiddos to see all the candy and be told they can't have any. I've been telling them that the stuff is for kids with no mommies and daddies.

I think this has really affected Jane. A few days ago she wanted to share our house with people who don't have a house. But yesterday she really went above and beyond for a girl of four.

Jane kept offering yesterday, "I can share my mommy and daddy. Is that a good idea?"
"That's a wonderful idea, Jane," I would reply.
Then, after thinking for a minute she said, "I can give some of my toys to kids with no mommy or daddy."
I thought it was just more talk. I told her if she wanted to do that then she should go pick out some toys to give away.
Jane surprised me further by going to her toy organizer and rummaging through it. I wanted to make sure she understood exactly what she was doing. "Jane," I said. "If you give these toys away they will be gone forever. You won't ever see them again."  Jane just continued searching through her toys.

A few minutes later she returned with five toys. Of course, three of them were actually Max's, but that's beside the point. "Here, mommy," she said. "Let's put these in the stockings, okay?"

I set the toys on the counter, very touched, because one of the toys was a treasured Tinkerbell bath toy (she has Snow White and Tinkerbell and they play together all the time.) "Are you sure you want to give away Tinkerbell," I asked.

"I still have Snow White," she responded. "Can we put them in the stockings?"

"Yes," I replied. But let's do it tonight after Max is asleep."

But Jane wasn't quite pleased with that answer. She quietly went and retrieved one of our stockings, put the toys in there and handed it back to me. If I thought she hadn't understood what she was doing she changed all that by telling me. "I can never see them again."

Last night, Jane fell asleep very early. I put those toys in the stockings (all except Tinkerbell, she was sticky) and thought about my sweet Jane, who really understood and really followed the spirit of Christmas.

Christmas Paper Lanterns

I was trying to think of a cost and time-efficient gift to give to my neighbors and friends. I wanted it to be handmade, heartfelt, and reflect the true meaning of Christmas. Into my memory walks this picture. Isn't it a beautiful paperbag lantern? There were tons of them my freshman year at Temple Square in Salt Lake City saying different things in different languages.


Here's my cute freshmen self with my old college roommate and friend for life, Whitney. Don't we look so cute and young? Now Whitney is in law school and I have two kids and the next time we take a picture here we will probably be going through a mid-life crisis. ;)

But that's beside the point. It was the paper lantern that inspired me. I didn't have paper bags (at least I didn't think I did. I've since found some. But making little lanterns like this isn't that hard.

Here is one of my creations from today. Not as fancy. But the same message.

I used cardstock so as to be less of a fire hazard (much less risk of the paper crumpling into the flame or anything, but tomorrow I am getting flameless tealights anyways, just to be safe). I also made some pretty ones out of green and red construction paper.

Cut a standard size piece of paper in half. On one side either draw the picture or write the word that you want on your lantern. Be sure to leave about an inch or space between your word or picture and the bottom of the paper. If you are doing a word, write it flipped backwards so that the side of the paper not written on is the side everyone will see. Then take a push pin and poke holes along the lines. You can add embellishments or add thicker lines in some places if you are artistic or know calligraphy.

When you are done punching holes, cut 5-7 darts along the bottom of the paper. Then wrap paper around a cardboard circle, folding tabs between darts over the cardboard and taping to the circle. Tape the piece of paper together at the sides to form a cylinder. Add a handle. And you're done!

This is definitely a project for older kids (at least the punching part), but if you make a lantern of white paper, your younger kids can color on the paper and that shows up against the candle light and looks quite pretty.

Once again, these make lovely gifts, and we handed some out tonight with a real candle burning in them, but will be switching to flameless. I wouldn't leave this lantern unattended for safety reasons, but it was quite fun and pretty to hold while caroling!