Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Thursday, December 26, 2013

Home

When does your house become a home?  There are probably many philosophies on that, but I think for us, this new house became a home at Christmas.  Specifically, when Daddy came home, and we spent Christmas together.  I've said before that home is wherever we can be together.  Well, that bond is intensified so sweetly at Christmastime, when combining the spirit of our Savior, Jesus Christ, with the love we feel for each other.  It's the love of Jesus Christ that holds a family together, and living his gospel that keeps happiness in the home.  We try very hard to make our home a place the Savior would want to be.  Everything good, and wonderful our family has had, we can easily see are blessings from a loving Heavenly Father.  The greatest and sweetest blessings seem to always come when we are all together.  Having Daddy home...well, to this verbose writer, words fail to describe that gift.  We all love him so much.  Christmas with him safe and home meant everything to us, and we will never stop being grateful for that time we had together.

In case you can't read the print on the last slide, the quote is:
“It is in the home that we form our attitudes, our deeply held beliefs. It is in the home that hope is fostered or destroyed. Our homes are to be more than sanctuaries; they should also be places where God’s Spirit can dwell, where the storm stops at the door, where love reigns and peace dwells”
-- Thomas S. Monson

Saturday, July 20, 2013

7 Lucky Years

Today was Anny's 7th birthday.
World's cutest 7 year old

Mesmerized by the candles


Making a wish!!

Go Anny!!!
We have now completed 7 lucky years of parenting.  I know they're lucky, because I'm told that all the time.  I've been told over and over we're so lucky to have such great kids.  But I'm going to let you in on a secret- it wasn't luck!!!  DH suggested against writing about this, but I have a very small circle of readers, so I think it's safe to reveal our secret.  Are you ready?  As I said before, we weren't "lucky".  The truth is, our kids are aliens.

It's true!!!  All 3 of them.  Aliens.  "But wait!!!!" you say.  "If your kids are aliens, then that means......."

Yes.  Also true.  My husband and I, are aliens.

I was reflecting on that truth today, while at Chic-Fil-A for Anny's birthday lunch.  It was raining on and off all day, so we decided to visit the only restaurant within at least 20 miles with an indoor play place - the new Gulf Breeze Chic-Fil-A.  I was reminded again that we are aliens as I watched the children in the play place.  There were other kids there, but they were nothing like mine.  They were screaming, pushing, shoving, climbing up slides while others where sliding down, pushing toddlers to the side if they were in their way... and all this with no parents in sight.  It came to me, clear as day- we are aliens.  My children in no way resemble those other children.  I can't say if I resembled the parents, because I didn't see them there.

I have to admit, I always knew I was an alien.  I noticed as a child, I was different than the other children.  I wasn't any smarter, or more beautiful, or even more interesting than them.  I was, however, different.  I have only recently discovered why.  My parents raised me with the same alien methods I use with my own children, and the same can be said for my husband.  (And aren't we both lucky to have found each other!!!  What are the chances that two aliens are to cross roads?!!!)

While I am still slowly discovering those alien methods, and have much to learn, I know my parent's "alien" style of parenting was solely focused on two basic ideas.

1. We are children of a Heavenly Father who has blessed us with knowledge of the right way to live and be happy
2. Because of that knowledge, our parents know we are capable of great things, and expect nothing less

Let me share an example of this philosophy in action.  At church, we begin with a congregational meeting, where everyone sits as families on the pews.  This meeting is approximately an hour long, where we partake of the sacrament, sing hymns, and listen to prepared talks given by members of the congregation.  My alien children, are quiet and reverent for this hour.  My two year old is still learning, but he gets better every week.  How do I keep my children quiet and reverent, sitting still for a full hour?  Setting aside that they are aliens, I apply the above principles.

We have taught our children of their sacred heritage.  Every week we have Family Home Evening, where my husband or I teach them a lesson about the gospel.  We sing songs about our Savior, Jesus Christ, we bare testimony to them that He loves them.  Every night we have scripture study.  We read scripture stories to them, and pray together.  They sit reverently, listen to the stories, and take turns reading or giving prayers.  They know from regular lessons, prayers, and loving testimony from their parents, who they are.  They understand when they are in church, that it is an important time, where we give of ourselves to Heavenly Father.  We pray, we sing, we listen.  What we do at church is very similar to what we do at home.  Our children recognize the Spirit they feel in both places, and it helps them to be reverent.  That's applying above principle number 1.

As for principle number two, they know we expect them to be quiet and reverent that hour during sacrament meeting.  We know they can do it.  We know they are capable of sitting still, listening, and thinking about why they are there, and why it is important.  They know if they are not reverent, that we will be disappointed in them.  We will be disappointed, because we know they can do better.  We know they did not live up to their best.  We know they made a choice to act differently than they were taught.

While in college, I again felt that lonely reminder that I am an alien, as I started student teaching, and then again as a new teacher in my first classrooms.  The commonly over promoted idea was not to push children too hard, or expect too much.  Too often I heard the phrase, "They're only 5th graders, 1st graders, 6th graders, etc."

I felt so differently from my peers.  I didn't think my students were "only" anything.  I saw them as wonderful children capable of great things!  I thought, "they're 5th graders, so I know they can do this!"

My teaching philosophy revolved around encouraging children to stretch their minds and abilities as far as they could, to try new things, and if they made mistakes, to try again.  I believed in my students, I knew they all could work hard and do great things. I never gave them excuses for why they couldn't, I gave them reasons to keep trying until they could.  The most satisfying moments I had in teaching, were when students struggled to work hard on something, but saw the task to the end, and then knew they had accomplished something impressive.  You could see it on their glowing faces!!  Sometimes they'd show a look of surprise, like they didn't know they were capable of such high achievement!  But I knew.  I always knew they could do it.  

So, I must ask, to my faithful few readers- are you an alien too?  Do you too find yourself setting high expectations for yourself and your family?  Do you know somewhere deep inside you, that you and your family are of great worth, with a divine heritage, and therefore capable of great things?  Do you expect those great things from yourself and them?  Do you feel sincere disappointment in yourself and them when goals are not met, yet also unfailing faith that improvement and new progress are possible?

If that isn't you, if you are not an alien, then change!!!  Believe in yourself and your family.  Don't make lists of what you or they can't do and why.  Decide that you can, because you're incredible.  Recite that daily to yourself in the mirror, and then go tell your husband, your wife, your children, your friends.  Tell them you love them, you know they have amazing potential, and even on the worst days, where they stumble and fall over and over, that they are still worth getting back up and trying again.  Find yourself saying phrases like, "I can.  I will.  I must."

This post has gotten too long, and even my few devoted readers have probably faded out a few paragraphs ago.  I apologize.  I can be long winded when it comes to something I feel strongly about.  I'll end with this quote from former prophet, Gordon B. Hinckley,

"I feel to invite every woman everywhere to rise to the great potential within you.  I do not ask that you reach beyond your capacity.  I hope you will not nag yourselves with thoughts of failure.  I hope you will not try to set goals far beyond your capacity to achieve.  I hope you will simply do what you can do in the best way you know.  If you do so, you will witness miracles come to pass." 

You know what you can do, and are capable of.  Deep down, you know.  You have a loving Heavenly Father who made you, and knows you can.  So do it.  And look for the same in your children, and those around you.  It's really not that  alien of an idea.      

Thursday, May 9, 2013

Raising Daughters

I have two beautiful, sweet, unique, little girls.


While my parenting experience has only begun, in celebration of Mother's Day this Sunday, I thought I'd make a list of 20 things I've found, both as a mother, daughter, and sister, are important to know when raising girls.  They are in no particular order, and of course, there are many many things I could add.  But I thought an "off the top of my head" list would be a little more authentic, since typically what is most important to us, is most immediately on our minds.

1. Read to her the good books, and she will discover a world even bigger than the one around her
2. When she's old enough to read to herself, teach her how to find the best books, and she will learn to be careful what she lets enter her mind
2. Let her play with your makeup brushes in the mirror while you get ready in the bathroom, and she will see her mother appreciates what she sees in the mirror
3. Take a break to snuggle, and she will feel safe in your arms
4. Teach her how to speak to her parents with respect, and she'll learn to be careful with her words
5. Go for walks, and let her stop to look at a butterfly, smell the flowers, or look for 4 leaf clovers, and you'll inspire her to explore and learn about her world 
6. Keep as many of the pictures she makes for you as you can, and she'll know you think about her
7. Say sorry to her if you've made a mistake, and she'll find value in humility
8. Teach her to sincerely apologize, and she'll learn not to suppress feelings of remorse
9. Teach her that good friends make you feel beautiful, and she'll know how to be a good friend herself
10. Read the scriptures with her every single day, and she'll learn there is a right way to live and be happy
11. Take her to church every Sunday, and she'll learn the best community she is a part of, is one that is Christ centered
12. Help her feel what reverence means, and she'll learn how to listen for Heavenly Father, and know He talks to her in many ways 
13. Teach her that happiness is a choice to make good choices, and she'll know how to find it
14. Dress modestly yourself, and she'll see that modesty means respecting what is beautiful
15. Speak carefully and thoughtfully, and she will see that words can be powerful
16. Give her opportunities to work hard, and she will know what it means to feel successful
17. Sing with her, and she'll learn music is a way to share what is in her heart
18. Keep high expectations for her, and she'll learn you know she is capable of great things
19. Insist she treat her siblings with kindness, and she'll learn the most important relationships are those within the walls of her own home
20.  Marry the right man.  Choose someone to be her father who will honor all things previously listed, and have a list of his own.  Marry a man who puts on the top of his list, loving you.  Because the best way for a daughter to learn to value herself, is by watching how her father honors her mother.  Words cannot fully express my gratitude in finding a man who does this so well.  

     

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Put a Dad in It

A song came to mind as I was scrolling through the latest pictures on my camera.  It's Brooks & Dunn's song Put a Girl in It.  It's all about how everything in life is better if you "put a girl in it".  Except of course, I was substituting "Dad" for "girl".  Everything is just better with Dad in the mix.

Warning, if you click on my link to the music video of the Brooks & Dunn song, I suggest you listen without watching the video.  It's full of some less than respectable girls, pretty, but scantily clad, drinking and dancing.  I can't help but leave the disclaimer that life in general is much better without that kind of girl.  AND girls are capable of so much more than looking and acting sexy.  Where are the clips of girls wiping the tears of a toddler, putting an arm around a lonely friend, teaching a class, baking something irresistible...  So, yeah, cute and true song, but very sexist video.   

Here's a much better video, if I do say so myself!!!  Daddy isn't in all of the photos, because more often than not, he was behind the camera!!!  We've all been drinking in the family time, in satisfying heavy doses.


To each of my sweethearts, whether you're 32 or not quite 2, isn't it obvious we belong together?!      

Saturday, January 26, 2013

Spilled chocolate milk

I looked my 4 year old in the eye, and said, "now I need you to be so careful with this milk.  I don't have an extra dress for you, and if you spill this chocolate milk all over your dress, we have to go home."

She returned my serious look, and said she understood.  We were sitting in the car, in front of the Burger King on base, scarfing down some lunch before attending an "I'm a hero too" party for children with deployed parents.  The kids had been looking forward to the party all day.

Can you guess what happened 10 minutes into our little meal?  Of course.  Spilled chocolate milk.  All. Over.  She was soaked.  Now what?  We live 30 minutes from base, no time to go get a change of clothes.  Well, I came up with the brilliant idea to go to the BX, and see if I can't find a 4T outfit, and still salvage our afternoon.  For all my non-military readers, the BX stands for Base Exchange, and is sort of like an on-base Wal-mart or Target.

I unbuckled and hustled everyone into the store as fast as their little legs could go, and toddler on my hip, diaperbag on my shoulder, little girls trailing, I grabbed the first outfit I could find.  It was a bright orange, frilly, sparkly, bejeweled top with zebra print capris.  A little more funky than what I usually buy, but Merrylee was pleased, and Anny was grateful her fun day wasn't ruined by a younger sibling.  I tried not to think of all the negative behaviors I was reinforcing as I paid the cashier.

The girls made some new friends at the party, and when I wasn't chasing around my energetic toddler, I was able to grab brief bits of conversation with other tired but stalwart moms fighting the same home-front fight.

After the party, I had planned to brave the mall with my crew so I could return some online purchases, and buy a birthday present.  I lost count of how many times I said in my loudest-but-not-yet-yelling voice, "Do not touch anything!"

We fit the exhausted-mom-shopping-with-too-many-kids mold pretty nicely.  The girls fought and picked at each other, while my nap-depraved son whined in the stroller, and dropped his lovey about every 5 minutes. Still, I managed to make my returns, buy the birthday gift, and even found time to buy a few fragrant hand soaps from Bath and Body Works.  I would have liked to have actually smelled most of their scents and chosen my favorites, but due to a lacking in both time and well behaved children, I went with the first one I liked, another that had a catchy title, and two favorites of the cashiers.

By then everyone was hungry.  I settled for pizza and lemonade in the food court for the kids, and a gyro and flavored fries for me.  The gyro was just ok, but I knew from experience, the fries would be amazing, thanks to their secret recipe seasoning.

I warned Merrylee to be extra careful not to get pizza onto her brand new shirt, and told Anny to be careful with the lemonade, and share with her sister.  Can you guess what happened?  Of course.  Greasy pizza, splat, onto the new shirt.  The lemonade spilled.  Thankfully, there was a lid on the lemonade, so the first initial spill wasn't too bad.  The second, third, and fourth however, took it's toll on our stack of napkins, everyone's laps, and my patience.  I didn't realize we also had a nice little sticky puddle of lemonade on the floor- until Ben dropped his lovey into it.

We went home.  I bathed the kids, we had scripture study, and everyone went to bed before 7.  A little early for a Saturday night, but I was done being a parent.

Feeling drained and a bit fragile, I cut myself a generous slice of leftover black forest cake, and settled into my computer chair, ready to unwind, and prepare my Sunday school lesson for the nursery.  On the LDS website where they have the lesson manuals, I saw this video.  Happy to procrastinate my lesson planning, I watched.



I cannot watch this little video without tearful gratitude for my Heavenly Father's love for me.  My frustrating afternoon and troubles suddenly seemed so infantile and small.  How many things have I taken for granted today?  How many times has God had patience with me, and warned me about bad choices, only to watch me make them anyway?  How many times has He then continued to bless and assist me, despite my imperfections?  He'll clean up spilled chocolate milk. He will turn my mistakes into growth and blessings.  He wont mock me for crying over silly little things, and he'll continually bless me with more ways to be happy.  He will always be there.  He will always provide.  I will never be able to pay Him back, or even fully comprehend all He has done for me.  He doesn't expect me to.  He does everything for me, for the same reason I do everything for my own children.  I love my babies.  Heavenly Father loves me.  He loves me because I am His child, and He is my Father.    

Thursday, November 29, 2012

How I can do it

"I don't know how you do it."

I hear that phrase so often when others hear how frequently my husband has to deploy.  They are being kind, and I know that.  Perhaps they are imagining me standing at the doorway, watching as he rolls his bags down the driveway to a taxi, or maybe they can picture too many tender goodbyes he's made to our kids.  They too may know something of loneliness, or the exhaustion that comes from doing things day after day, without help or relief.

How can I do this over and over?  How do I stay happy, raise babies, and keep our house a home, when I so often have to do it alone?  I can do it because of my faith.  I believe in Christ.  I believe that I am a daughter of God, who loves me, and I love Him.  I feel strength when I read the scriptures.  I feel peace when I read them to my children.

I love my husband.  I worry about his safety, and the idea that he may not make it home is ever present in my mind.  While I would never welcome that possibility, I do not fear it.  I know that I am not forgotten.  I know my life matters to God.  He loves my family, and he is there, watching, and helping us everyday.  When I pray about these things, I can feel it in my heart, with a strength I cannot question.

Every year I include a scripture that has special meaning to me in our Christmas card.  This year the choice was very easy.

John 16:33

These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace.  In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.

This year, as we face another holiday season apart, I will have moments of weakness, grief, and loneliness.  But I believe in Jesus Christ, and He overcame the world.  If he overcame the world, what are my small trials in comparison?  He has helped me, and still will, come what may.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

World's Cutest Baby Costume

We're mixing things up this year with our holidays.  We've already celebrated Thanksgiving and set up for Christmas, which makes now the perfect time to talk about Halloween (of course, also already celebrated).

I made the cutest costume for Benjamin for Halloween!  It helps making the world's cutest costume, when it goes on the world's cutest baby!

In case you haven't yet guessed, my husband, Ben, and I went for a Phineas and Ferb theme this year.  Our cute girls are old enough to choose their own costumes, so they didn't follow the theme.  My DH was Dr. Doofenshmirtz, (handsome version, of course)

I was the lovely Vanessa Doofenshmirtz,


And Benjamin was none other than Perry the Platypus- aka Agent P.



I did a little internet searching, and to my surprise you cannot buy Perry costumes made for babies or kids!  I searched high and low, and all I came up with were a few Perry hats and accessories.  One blog claimed Disney isn't currently allowing them to be sold.  Weird.  So I took matters into my own hands!  Want to know how to work my magic?  Well, it was pretty simple, but here's a quick "how to"-

How to make your own baby Perry the Platypus Costume

Step 1- the onesie.
I did a quick internet search for a teal green onesie with long sleeves, and found one with little effort.

Step 2 - the leg warmers
I ordered a pair of children's small gold colored soccer socks from Amazon, and cut out the bottom and most of the top of the feet, leaving just a baby sized flap for the top of Ben's feet.  Using my sewing machine, I pinched 3 little lines to make the webbed duck feet lines.

Step 3 - the tail
Using the bottoms of the socks I cut out, I sewed them together, then did some cris-cross quilting on the top for the Platypus tail.  Then I sewed the tail to the butt of the onesie.

Step 4 - the Fedora!
I found this one on Amazon.  There were several to choose from, this one was $15 plus shipping.  I added the little elastic so it wasn't quite as easy for Ben to yank it off.

I realize he is lacking in a Platypus bill, but there's no covering this cute face!!!

See, pretty simple, and practically self explanatory from the pictures.  Doesn't he look perfect?!!  Best Halloween we've had yet!  



Tail view





I took this when I was trying on my costume pieces,  still no hair or makeup yet.  It's the only photo that shows the boots though, so I had to add it, those are a Vanessa trademark!  


Shout out to our pretty Lady Vampire and Blond Belle.  Belle was going to be Rapunzel post haircut, pre hair turning brown, but she changed her mind last minute, hence enjoying the benefits of a well stocked Princess costume box!  


Monday, November 5, 2012

My Florida

My life in beautiful Florida has been bittersweet.  Mixed with crystal blue-green water and sparkling, powder white sand, are the tumultuous feelings of too many goodbyes for our family.  This is the place where we had to learn that being an eternal family doesn't mean you always get to be together.  

Are you tired of reading about the woes of deployments?  What a coincidence!  So am I.  Sadly being tired of something doesn't entitle me to a break.  There are many positives that come with military life.  Rest for the weary however, isn't among them.  The country needs fighters - strong soldiers and families who can do more with less.  With the current financial situation, they work longer hours with less sleep, travel further with shorter periods home, complete missions with smaller teams, and as families, stay together without actually being together very often.  Typically those who risk the most, and have the most dangerous jobs with the highest mortality rate, have some of the lowest salaries and are away the very longest.  I don't know why it has to be like that, but it is.  

Florida has taught me that physically, we do have to let go, and often.  However with patience and slow but steady growth, I've learned those goodbyes are temporary.  We are an eternal family, we made promises in one of God's holy temples, and were blessed that living up to those promises means the bonds of marriage and family will never break.  After all those goodbyes, I know, never doubting, that we will always be reunited.  He will always come home.  And if that worst of all fears happens, and the dearest cost of war touches our family, one day I will come home to him.  No goodbye is final, no separation permanent.  Sometimes the happiness we have together seems brief, but I know I'll have it again.

My mother warned me of possible perils of looking only towards homecomings, and forgetting to live in between.  She is wise and so I have tried to stay happy both when our family is all together and when it is not.  However any of you who have experienced something like this know, that while you continue on with your life, and keep smiling, moving, and living day by day, you're still secretly, acutely aware of that calendar.

If you find this difficult to understand, imagine going without something you love, and use everyday.  Take daily hot showers, for example.  For reasons you don't want, like, or completely understand, you have been told you will not be allowed to shower for a period of four months.  Imagine how that last week of showers before the moratorium begins will mean to you.  Imagine how you'd feel if you were interrupted during those last few showers, or for some reason had to shorten a few of them.  Then imagine that first morning where you crawled out of your warm bed into the chilly morning, and then couldn't go take one.  All day you'd try not to think about it, but you'd be keenly aware of your oily hair, a bit self conscious of your smell, and would probably feel like you were holding up a sign that said, "Yes, it's true, I didn't shower today!"

Now add time to our little example.  As time continues, a part of you would adjust to the change in daily habit.  However do you think there will ever be a day where you can completely forget that you haven't had a shower in days, weeks, or months?  Do you think you'd be able to avoid thinking about that first blissful moment when showers are a part of your life again?  Add to that the complication that you cannot shower or bathe your children either.  Everywhere you go you'd feel like "the stinky family", and in all your misery, you'd have the additional challenge of keeping your kids happy, despite reminding them they still can't play with rubber duckies.  You'd have to listen to them cry about how much they miss bubbles, and splashing warm water at the end of a long day.  How about all those clean people around you, who feel they should give you regular advice about how to not think about showers?  Some of them will even put on sympathetic faces, and oh-so-sweetly say that considering everything you've gone through, you really don't smell that bad.  And because you are a kind, polite person, you're supposed to show genuine gratitude towards those well scrubbed friends with all the advice.

I bet just reading that makes you want to go shower again today!  Me too.    

Oh my sweet, beautiful, Florida, how much I have learned, grown, and changed while strolling your shores!  I don't know how much longer we'll be together, and though not all of our memories are happy, I am at least grateful for the beauty, experience, and wisdom you have given me.  If I could pause time, where my babies are young and sweet, and my husband is home and we are all together, I'd choose that perfect moment to be here, with you!  

Sadly I cannot freeze time for us.  But of all the places to be both happy and sad, it's pretty easy to say this is the best one.  And while I cannot actually live that wonderful frozen moment, thanks to my talented friend, Kaycee, we can at least know what that moment would look like!  Looking at it isn't the same as living it, but it's close.


And to my constant and forever best friend, remember we'll always be at home waiting, loving, and smiling thinking of you, no matter how often you have to leave, or wherever you go.    

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

But What About the Children?

When I was a little girl, frequently anything my parents tried to teach me I followed with the question, "But what about the children?"

Whether the lesson be about a scripture story, something in history, or math facts, I somehow brought the subject around to that question.  Obviously it didn't always relate to what we were talking about, but it was none-the-less the question always on my mind.  I felt strongly then as I do now, that children mattered in everything we do.  I am not alone in that idea.

While building the Soviet Union, leaders knew and understood the power of raising a generation of children indoctrinated in communist ways.  Their little ones were not pushed aside, or seen as insignificant and of little use.  They were an important tool in spreading their propaganda and beliefs.

Historian Orlando Figes, in his book, The Whisperers: Private Life in Stalin's Russia, gives this quote from a Soviet Schooling Theorist about the children during communist rule:
"We must make the young into a generation of Communists.  Children, like soft wax, are very malleable and they should be moulded into good Communists... We must rescue children from the harmful influence of the family... We must nationalize them.  From the earliest days of their little lives, they must find themselves under the beneficient influence of Communist schools... To oblige the mother to give her child to the Soviet state -- that is our task."
They sought out a complete break from the family, promoting loyalty to the community, to the group, to the mass.  There are records of children who were praised as great examples because they betrayed their own parents to the secret police.  For one reason or another, if students stood out socially,  they were bullied or even expelled, all for the benefit of the group and the community. They suppressed any and all religion, and wiped out ideas of individualism, free thinking, or self expression.  Power to the group, power to the whole! The common man was united as one.  

We as a people, as citizens of the United States of America, claim to emphatically stand against this way of life.  We claim to celebrate differences, we promise to be open, tolerant, respectful, and free.

Yet I find those promises to be empty, especially when it comes to teaching our very young.  My daughter's school recently participated in a "Boosterthon Pep Rally".  Admittedly, I did not go, and neither did she.  For the first time, I found myself grateful for a cold virus that kept her from school that day.  Knowing what a Boosterthon and Pep Rally are, I can quickly draw my own conclusions as to what it was about.  Despite being heavily taxed for public education, the school still finds itself lacking in funds.  So who do they turn to to raise them?  Their students.

I was taught to ask for money regretfully, privately, with humble gratitude, and only when truly in the greatest of need.  But why go that route, when you have at your disposal over 800 children ages 5-7, who, like soft wax, are very malleable, and will do the dirty work for you?  In fact, lets gather these little ones together, and get them yelling, screaming, and excited about asking for money!  Rather than quietly sending a letter home to parents, explaining the need for a little extra, respectfully requesting private donations towards a good cause, we are igniting our children, with fire and excitement, to parade out into open, and demand the money!

The motto for my daughter's school is "Reach for the Stars!"  However rather than spend more time teaching them to work hard, dedicate themselves to their studies, and reach for high goals of educational achievement, they are dedicating precious learning time to encourage them to reach with open, demanding hands, for money that is not theirs, from those who have already given enough.  Power to the group, power to the whole, united as one, they will reach.

Can you picture this gross scene?  Our babies, hundreds of tiny, sweet, innocent faces, jumping up and down, cheering, yelling, excited, and thrilled to get out there and ask for money, no doubt chanting their school motto, "Reach for the Stars! Reach for the Stars!  Reach for the Stars!"  

One of the activities for the Boosterthon is a "Fun Run", where every lap each child runs earns money for the school.  Again, it's being held during precious school hours, in substitute of learning and education.  I'm not opposed to physical activity among children, or Fun Runs in general.  It's the sacrifice of learning time, and motivation used that makes me cringe, shoved upon so many little ones, who are naturally eager to please at any cost.  Some of the money is going towards new playground equipment.  You're kidding yourself if you think the faculty and staff wont say to those tired little feet to keep going, or they wont get their playground.  I can hear the motivational cheering now:


  • I know you're tired, but if you don't run more, you'll have nothing to play on!!  
  • If you really cared about that playground, you'd go another lap.  
  • Look at little Billy!  See him, and how much he is running?  He must really care about his school! Go Billy go!  
  • Just one more lap! You can do it, reach of the stars!!!!
  • Come on kids, we're a team!!!!  


Am I the only one who shudders at this?  Am I alone in seeing the obvious similarities to the schools of Stalin?  How is that "Fun Run" any different from child labor?  We are pushing the children with physical labor, threatening them with something that is dear to them if they do not comply.  They will be belittled, put down, and marked as "not a team player" if they slow down, or stop earlier than their classmates.  The teachers are pressured to comply too, with competitions and rewards for classes who can earn the most money, and promises of percentages of what is earned going to each class.  The teachers are no doubt told,


  • If you want more for your students, you'll encourage them to participate   
  • If you need books, supplies, and computers to enrich your classroom, you'll push them to run! 
  • If you care, this is what you'll do.       


I am not morally opposed to general fundraising.  However, I believe there is an appropriate method for asking for donations.  This is not it.  Where is the modesty, the humility that should be accompanied with a request for money?  Small businesses who are taking enormous hits from the economy at this time, as well as parents who already sacrifice funds, time, and resources to their children's education, are the ones being appealed to to donate.  Shouldn't that be done a little more sensitively?  Instead it has become a loud manipulative circus, all in the name of teamwork, and with the voices and actions of 1600 tiny feet and open, reaching, hands.

I am surrounded by conservative friends who boldly put Vote For Romeny signs in their yards, cheer him on in debates, and unapologetically post on Facebook their conservative thoughts and opinions.  And yet I seem to be the only one concerned about this blatantly communist behavior going on at school.  I haven't heard a word of criticism or disapproval for this.  When do your actions back up your words?  When will you start matching conservative voting with conservative choices?  When will you realize your choice not to act is affecting those you should be protecting and caring about most?  What about the children???  

Translated, the poster reads, "Join the pre-school movement- Build a new life - Organize kindergartens and playgrounds - Educate a new Communist generation"
 
How, you ask, am I demonstrating my own actions behind my words?  By protecting my child.  I am not so brazen as to picket the school with signs, or write a nasty letter to the principal.  After all, my little girl is in the first grade, and I know we'll have many more battles to fight.  I need to pace myself accordingly.  However I will not subject her to this.  I will not put a cute, cheerleader face on for this activity, join the parents in the crowd, and demand money from our community for every lap those little feet can manage.  I refuse to watch my baby be manipulated and washed up in the hype.  For family reasons, we will quietly stay home during this event.  Follow our example, if you dare.  Or stand up in your own way.  But please, consider your children.  Put your actions where your vote is.  Conservative beliefs don't just come into play on voting day.  It is a way of life, one I don't mind living alone if I have to.  I know I'm probably not making any friends by writing this.  However I was raised, by my parents and despite many of my teachers I might add, that standing up for your values, even if it means standing alone or being different, is not a bad thing.

Soviot Propaganda Poster originally copied from here.    

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Nobody Gets Me Like You . . .

I have a pet-peeve.  Well, actually, I have many (don't we all) but one of them, is this phrase.  In case you haven't read my title, I'm referring to the uneducated, stupid, empty yet well embraced phrase in modern culture, "Nobody gets me like you."

Can we possibly find a more vague, adolescent description of romantic feelings towards one another?  I expect if one responded to this lovely term of endearment with, "well, what do you get about me?" one would find his or her date stuttering and lost with no idea what to say next, because that all-encompassing nothingness of a phrase was the best he or she had.  He/she doesn't really know anything about you except that he/she finds you attractive, and possibly feels comfortable around you.  Hence the "get me" part.  I assume that's what they mean, that they feel comfortable in the presence of said lover, therefore, he/she "gets me".  Gag me now.

While folding laundry I watched the last three episodes of the most recent season of The Bachelorette, where this lovely phrase was uttered between lovers, no exaggeration, over 60 times.

"He just gets me!"
"I love you, because you just really get me"
"No one has ever got me quite like you"
The variations continue in their pathetic monotony.

Don't get me started about that mockery of love tv show.  It feels like one long, awkward first date, except with many men, and in exotic places.  Oh, and of course, it ends with a proposal.  I don't think anyone honestly, truly, really believes that's how love works, or even resembles it.  Yet, so many women get sucked into that nonsense!!!  See, you got me started.  Well, while I'm at it . . . I have a few theories.  I will shamefully admit I am guilty of shedding a tear or two when I saw the proposal, or witnessed earlier poor Sean (2nd to last guy eliminated from Emily's love list) drive home with a devastated, deer in the headlights look of a truly heartbroken man.  I think women are drawn to this show not because they think it has any bearing on true love, but because it's entertaining in a way they can't explain.  I think I can though.  First of all, women need to feel wanted, and here's a show with one woman being desired by 25 men.  25 good looking, succesful, congenial men, who hope to marry her!  Add to that romantic locations, a little drama (admit it women, we all secretly love a little drama, anyone who denies that, is well, in denial!!!) and kisses and embraces from these beautiful men all fighting for her affection, and you have catnip for women.  This human catnip is neither real nor healthy though, my ladies.  I suggest you find something else to fill your time, although, yes, as I said, I too am guilty of losing three hours of my life to that last season.  "Lord, what fools these mortals be!" Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream.  Now if you really want to watch a true parody of love, that's the comedy for you.  I never get tired of that play!!! 

So- where was I?  Oh yes, trashing on the "Nobody gets me like you" phrase.  If you are a user, rest easy, there is still hope.  Buy a thesaurus, or better yet, book of Shakespearean sonnets!  There are numerous ways to describe true love and devotion in the English language!  You can learn to express yourself.  I believe in you!

Now that I've completely exhausted that tangent, to the point of this post.  I heard a song on the radio, and it totally "got me".  By that, of course I mean I instantly felt drawn to the lyrics and the sweet, touching description of the benefits of marriage over being single.  The song is called Woman Like You by Lee Brice.  It's of course, a country song.  No other genre seems to have mastered the art of beautifying the simple, sweet parts of life, with a mixture of acoustic guitars and a little southern twang.  As Trace Adkins put it so well, country songs are songs about me! 


"...it's songs about me,
and who I am.  
Songs about loving and living
and good hearted women
and family and God.
Yeah, they're all just 
songs about me"

You can see the video and hear that whole song here.  (The Trace Adkins song)  It's a great song, I love it.  


That's of course, why I fell in love with Lee Brice's song, Woman Like You.  It's about me!  It's about a wife who asked her husband that hypothetical question I think most women ask or at least wonder at some point.  

Where would you be today if you weren't married to me?  

Of course what she really means is, 

Are you happy with me, and do you regret getting married or miss being single?    

He answered her in sweetly rhyming verses all the great things he'd be doing, and how they still don't top what he now has with her.  This touches a particularly sensitive note with me, because my husband happens to have a very cool profession, and to the outside world it probably doesn't quite match up to being a family man.  Really, does it get much cooler than being a Special Ops Air Force pilot?  No, no it doesn't.  

He looks pretty darn suave in his green flight suit, combat boots, and Oakley sunglasses.  And yet this extraordinary man I married is happiest in a worn out t-shirt, pair of cargo shorts, flip flops, and rolling around on the floor with his kids.  If he were single he'd probably own a plane of his own, drive a cool new motorcycle, and have time to both ride it, and keep it maintained!  Right now his bike lays hopelessly unrepairable in our garage, with no time in the foreseeable future to fix it.  If he didn't have a family, he wouldn't feel so torn when he has to deploy so often,  he could watch as much college football as he wants, and probably join an adult amateur league of flag football or soccer, instead of coaching a team of five-year-old girls.  (No offense to Anny and the other Green Butterflies!)  

His life could be in the worldly sense, much, much cooler, and we both know it.  I probably know it a little too much, and like the pretty girl in the music video, I fish a little to get him to remind me he's happier now than he would be without poopy diapers, messy kitchens, toys to trip on, babies crying at night, putting up with a hormonal pregnant wife 3 times . . . oh and how the list goes on!  Yet family craziness aside, he's happy.  He wants exactly what he has!  He may not be able to compose a country song about it, but I'm not too bad at ryhming, so I made an attempt to write my own verses to that song, dedicated to the number one man in my life.  I'm crazy about you, and can't tell you what it means to me that you prefer us over what would be a very exciting life for a single man.  If you ever want to whisper in my ear your own reasons for those decisions, even if I think I already know them, well, let's just say I'd be ok with that.     




Here are my knock-off verses.  Not quite as smooth as Mr. Lee Brice, but I think they have their own personal charm.  

If he was still a single man he’d,
never have to drive a mini van,
He’d have more time for football games,
Eat more Rice-a-Roni and chicken wings.
He’d live somewhere with a water view,
time to fix a motorcycle or two. 
I know he’d own that dream airplane,
If I’d never known his name.

Going overseas wouldn’t be so tough,
No goodbyes makes it not so rough.
There’d be time to study for a masters degree,
Time for the gym, even time for sleep. 
Life would be simple and carefree,
Without a family, without me. 

Now that I’ve got your attention,
I suppose I forgot to mention,
I’m so happy he came my way,
I can never have too many days,
Watching him coach our daughter’s soccer team,
Pushing our kids on the back yard swings.
Though he does love Rice-a-Roni,
I know it’s no trade for being lonely.
Football games are way more fun,
While holding his sleeping newborn son.
Flying overseas is hard to do,
But it’s nice having someone to come home to.

There are things he gave up to be a husband and father,
We’ll probably never have that house on the water.
Time for motorcycles has come and gone,
When you spend all your Saturdays mowing the lawn.
Yet as soon as you’re home, your kids come running to see you,
We all just want to be near you. 
We’ll follow you to the middle of no-where,
It will be happy to us, as long you’ll be there.
This all, I’m sure, is nothing new,
We’re grateful, Daddy, we love you.    

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Do Nothing Day

When my best friend comes back home, we're having one of these. A blissfully unproductive day. After I've put the kids to bed I should be catching up on the dishes, sweeping up my floor so my little crawler doesn't supplement his diet with whatever fun things he can find, or folding and sorting laundry. Too often I don't though. I get lost. I sit, sit, sit, sit, and daydream. Sometimes I think about things I need to do, or should have done, but more often than not, I lose myself thinking about the do nothing days I want to have.

I just want to sleep late with my sweetheart, and then when the kids drag us out of bed, we can spend the morning in our PJ's, making bacon and pancakes with lots of syrup and butter, or strawberry jam. Then spend the afternoon watching TV or football, eating chips with salsa, and cookies for lunch. Going for a slow walk around the neighborhood in the evening, then reading storybooks and playing board games till the kids are grumpy and sleepy. Staying up late cuddling, talking, laughing and slow dancing. Letting the dishes pile up in the sink, and toys sneak out of the playroom and spread around the house. Knowing the grass is higher than it should be outside, but letting it sit just for one more day. Using the ambitious to-do lists as coasters for cold frosty mugs of root beer, no answering the phones or responding to nagging emails. Just shutting out the world, hanging out as a family, and doing nothing except being together, making messes and memories.

I lose time at night, doing nothing, thinking about a do-nothing day. I think I need one. In fact, I think I'm due for a nice long string of them.

 

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Boy, you make me smile!

This Monday we celebrated Benjamin's first birthday.  Has it really been a year since he one-upped his Daddy with his surprise early arrival?  If you haven't heard the story, it's a good one, you can read about it here.

Somehow that first year flew by, and yet I can't imagine our family without him.  I thought we were happy before Ben, but you should see it, we're all crazy about that little boy.  We love you, Benny-boo-boo-boo.  Happy Birthday Buddy!  

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

a few of the things I love most!

This post is for me.  Sadly Daddy doesn't have a lot of time home before he has to go out again.  It's already flying by so fast!  I decided to make a slideshow of all the fun things we've been doing with him lately, so when I miss him, I can follow Freulein Maria's example, and simply remember my favorite things from when he was here.  I'll be revisiting this post a lot!

Emerald green water that sparkles in sunshine,
Chocolate dipped berries and kids early naptimes,
Zaxbys, and Flounders, and Buffalo Wild Wings,
These are a few of my favorite things!

Strawberry picking with Dad, son and daughters,
Homemade pink syrup, jam, muffins, and cobblers. 
Silver white sand castles, dolphins up close,
These are a few of the things I love most!

When goodbyes come,
When I miss you,
When I’m feeling sad,
I’ll simply remember my favorite things,
and then I wont feel, so bad!

Friday, May 4, 2012

Married to the Military

I recently read a "letter from a military spouse", that had been published in a newspaper.  She gave some insight about things most women married to the military experience, that the general public may not be aware of.  I've seen similar writings.  This last one made me start to wonder, if I were to write such a letter, and knew it had the potential to be read by many, what would I say?

After much deliberation, I decided I'd want to let those outside military life to know, that our lives aren't tragic.  There seems to be a commonly accepted opinion that spouses of soldiers are victims of a sort, leading mournful lives of goodbyes and heartache.  It's true the separation that tends to come with military life is difficult.  It's more than difficult.  But it does not mean we are always sad.  Nor are our lives less idealistic than anyone elses.

When friends or neighbors hear about my husband's frequent deployment schedule, I commonly hear hear phrases such as, "Wow, I don't know how you do that.  I never could" or "Bless your heart, that sounds miserable".  Someone even said once, "It seems you're doing your best with a bad situation".  

I know they mean well with their comments, and are trying to express some sympathy and understanding that I am doing something hard.  The kindness behind their comments doesn't go unrecognized.  However what I wish I could say in response is, "yes, it is hard, but we are happy."

Naturally I don't mean it makes me happy to send my husband off over and over.  I cry, I worry, and I miss him terribly.  But I also do what any other positive person does when presented with trials we all must endure.  I focus on the blessings we have, and remember that they are many!

Nephi, an ancient prophet who lived 500 years before the birth of Jesus Christ, saw much hardship in his life.  He helped lead his family across the ocean and to the American continents.  After arriving in this new land, his family settled and built homes.  However after his father died, his older brothers set plans to kill Nephi and his family.  They resented him and their father for leading them away from Jerusalem.  Despite the many miracles they witnessed, they refused to acknowledge it was God who preserved them and led them to the new land.  Nephi and all those who believed in God left their homes yet again.  They traveled for many days with their families before they felt safe enough to settle and rebuild.  Reading that I think most people would find Nephi's lot a sad and difficult one.  Not ideal, I think we all would say.  However after settling again, Nephi records this short but beautiful verse:

2 Nephi 5:27 And it came to pass that we lived after the manner of happiness.

I think I understand why Nephi wrote that.  If I could speak to the world about what my life is like as a military spouse, I'd say the same.  We live after the manner of happiness.  My husband has a job he loves and knows is meaningful.  His work provides us with everything we need and want.  We've had the opportunity to live in many places, and have met so many good people.  The separations have caused us to deeply appreciate the time we have together. It has brought us closer to family and friends who have been there during times of need.

Military life isn't a curse, it's a choice, and we've been happy in the life it has provided.  I will admit it has been harder than what I imagined when I said yes to a handsome ROTC boy asking for my hand.  It has not been without challenges, challenges unique to this lifestyle.  However no family is spared from hardship.  Every bride discovers marriage isn't living a fairy princess life.  Every new husband finds he's never at home as much as he'd like to be.  Earth life comes with weariness, loneliness, sorrow, and pain.  Families of military members do not have a monopoly on trials.  If being in the military has presented us with more challenges than the average family, then it has blessed us, because it has caused us to learn quickly how to effectively follow the example of Nephi.  We had to recognize right away any difficulty or trial can be endured if we seek to live after the manner of happiness.  

The next time you see your friend struggling in the grocery store with her children, knowing her spouse wont be home to help her for several months, or you notice her sitting at church by herself, mowing her own lawn, or going to the movies alone, give her your love, keep her in your prayers, but don't mourn for her.  You have more in common with her than you think.  Remember if she looks happy, she is.  She devotes her life to living after the manner of happiness, just like you.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

May your days be bright

My DH has a sort of talent I covet.  He easily forgets bad memories.  Arugments we've had, unfortunate events from the past, he can't remember them.  They never happened.  He doesn't just choose not to bring them up- he somehow manages to erase them.  I've in a laughing mood, tried to recall with him disagreements from our past, and he thinks I made them up.  He cannot remember them.  Fortunate man!

I am usually not so fortunate, and can recall a little too perfectly how things I don't wish to remember, went down.  However when I look back on 2011, I'm overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude.  Even if I try, I cannot focus on a memory where I was heartbroken, downtrodden, or miserable.  I suppose there were some, no one is safe from hard times, but all that comes to mind is seeing my husband walk through the door, early from a deployment, the day before Benjamin was born.  I recall the girls hands and mouths stained red from strawberries we picked together, and can remember they were the sweetest, freshest berries I'd ever had.  I think of the happy, sleepy look on Merrylee's face as she awoke on her third birthday, and realized what day it was.  I can see Anny during family scripture study at our family reunion, staring at the 4th of July fireworks from the beachouse window, too distracted and excited to hear our devotional.  I remember my brothers, father, and a few good friends, standing in a circle, holding our baby boy, as my husband gave him a name and a blessing.  It was a year abundant in happiness, culminating in a Christmas Season with Daddy home and our family together.  I've been blessed to only remember the good things, and there were so many good things this year.  Those good things come from one source, and it's to Him, our Savior, Jesus Christ, that we are grateful, and who we celebrate.  Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year.  May your 2012 be bright!

Special thanks to my talented sister, Katie, the pianst who provided the music for this slideshow.  Not included here are pictures from a visit to Virginia.  We had a wonderful time, but forgot our camera.

 

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Hippie Night

Monday evenings are in a way just as sacred as the sabbath to LDS families.  However instead of forgetting all worldly cares, and dedicating ourselves to a day of rest and worship as we do on Sundays, we set all else aside, and focus on our families.  Church buildings are locked and dark, and our temples are closed.  We are discouraged from holding parties, receptions, showers, and other get togethers that would distract from family time, or pull someone away from home.  We're even discouraged from signing up our children with sports teams, music groups, or anything else that would regularly meet on a Monday evening.  Monday nights are for the family, and what could possibly be more important than a consistent, regular family meeting time?

We call these special weekly meetings Family Home Evening, or FHE for short.  I was privileged to grow up in a family that never missed a single FHE.  Occasionally my dad's job would keep him working late or out of town, but my mom then directed our family evenings herself.  We sang songs, read from the scriptures, had gospel lessons, ate treats, and enjoyed being together.  Sometimes we'd go out to the movies as a family, or play flashlight games outside.  Parents, brothers, and sisters became an audience to preform dance routines, a new song learned on a musical instrument, or a poem memorized at school.  We also used that time to discuss important events, and make family decisions.  Some of my most treasured childhood memories are from a common Monday night practice in our home, where during "treat time" at the end of FHE, my Dad read aloud stories or chapters from funny books.  We'd laugh until we were at risk of choking or spitting out chocolate brownie, and were always sad when the story or chapter was over, and we had to get ready for bed.  Even as a moody teenager, I looked forward to Monday nights.  It was an oasis of happiness, strategically placed at the start of a long and difficult week of high school. 

I remember when I was twelve, I had an opportunity to join an elite children's orchestra.  My violin teacher highly recommended the group, and my mother, being a music teacher herself, knew the experience would be a good opportunity for me.  However when we learned the group met on Monday evenings, there was no argument or pause.  I didn't have to fight with my mother, I simply knew, this wasn't something I would participate in.  She really wanted me to be a part of this group, but despite this disappointment, she didn't hesitate for a second, or rationalize that maybe we could switch the nights for family night.  We both knew right away, Monday nights are family nights, and being a great musician comes second to being together as a family. I didn't join the group. 

At the time that experience wasn't significant, because it was consistent with training I'd had all my life.  It didn't stand out as extraordinary to me.  I see now that it was.  I've realized it's my parents unfailing attitude and dedication to our family that has taught me where my priorities should be, and how to run my own family now.  The confidence I have in my family relationships has so much to do with that family night.  Our schedule of activities molded around family night, and not the reverse.  Tuesday through Saturday the world had claim on our time.  Nothing touched Monday nights, because there never was something else more important.   

I do not think there is a better way to demonstrate love to your family.  There are naturally other important things not to be neglected, such as kind words, patience, hard work, a listening ear, providing for essential needs, teaching discipline and moderation, keeping a clean and healthy home, the list goes on.  However I have witnessed the blessings of a regular family time that comes second to nothing else.  I was reminded every single Monday of the first eighteen years of my life that I was loved, and that being together as a family mattered.  Nothing shook our resolve.  Come what may, we'd be together that night.  I was never bitter or unhappy about that.  No one in my family was.  We wanted to be together.  What more could you want from life than to be together with your family? 

After that lengthy and slightly heavy description of a topic of obvious importance to me, you're probably wondering what on earth gave me the inclination to name this entry "hippie night"?  Well I can answer that!!!  My husband and I do hold FHE with our family.  After a perfect legacy and example set by my parents, how can we not?!!!  With Daddy's frequent deployments, its obvious to anyone how important a regular family meeting time would be.  Now, admittedly while Daddy is away and the girls are so little, holding FHE does feel a bit redundant, since we're together all day anyway.  However routine and memories start early, and I don't really have an excuse not to do something special on Mondays with my little sweeties.  Last night the girls and I had a "hippie night" together for our FHE.  Not really, but we did make homemade granola.  Then we formed a drum circle, sang "kum bi ya" . . . just kidding.  I'm much too conservative, and would probably offend most hippies by applying the term to myself.  We did make the granola though, and it was fun!!! 

We'd had a late lunch, and not having a hungry Daddy coming home from work to cook for makes our dinner routine a little more flexible.  Emma, my fabulous friend, who is a great mom, and a former professional chef, recommended this recipe for homemade granola.  As our "optional ingredients" we added dried cranberries and mini chocolate chips, half a cup each, and enjoyed bowls of freshly made granola for supper.  Both my girls, who are picky eaters, especially at supper time, gobbled it right up!!  It's of course tasty with fruit, or on ice cream or yogurt (so I hear anyway) but we ate it by itself like dry cereal.  We had so much fun making it and of course eating it together, I had to share both the experience and recipe.  A healthy, kid-friendly snack, that contains whole grains, fruit, protein, and no preservatives (since we made it at home ourselves!) is a rare find!! 

So- go start up a family night, and make some granola!!!  If you ever need ideas on what to do together, I'm your girl, as I've had a lifetime of experience on the subject.  Don't feel intimidated or tell yourself it's too late, your kids are too old, your lives too busy... because the way to make something like this work, is to set aside all excuses, get started, and don't stop.  You'll never truly have something better to do in place of this time, and you'll never miss what you sacrificed to be together.  Think about what in your heart is most important to you, and you'll know I'm right.  Not that I can take credit.  FHE wasn't my idea after all...





Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Little Brothers

Although the title may suggest otherwise, we did not recently find out we're expecting twin boys. I have had a "feeling" we're expecting a son. Usually my maternal instincts are wrong though, so we'll see.

This post is dedicated to not the future brothers of Anny and Merrylee, but rather to my little brothers, Peter and Joseph. The holidays came and went with the number one man in our lives overseas. Daddy's in the Air Force, so as Merrylee often says these days in her cute little toddler voice, "it happens".

Instead of moping around the house in FL, we were graciously invited to spend Christmas and New Years with my family in VA. I have to admit there wasn't a complete lack of moping there on my part, but my little brothers, who are both taller than me now and much much cooler, were awesome, fun, hilarious, friendly, cute, witty, charming, chivalrous, and tremendously adored by their little nieces. They truly made that visit special for us. I started making a list of some of the things they did to make our visit great, but the list seemed so incomplete and didn't clearly illustrate how extraordinary my brothers really are. From cleaning dirty diapers and throw-up (a lot of both) to demonstrating an endless supply of patience for chatter and princess games, they did it all and then some. They made me laugh when I was lonely, smile and forget I was nauseous . . . I'm afraid I'm at a loss in how to describe my gratitude to them. Perhaps my feelings are best demonstrated in song.



Uncle Joe and Uncle Pete, we love you both so so much, and miss you already. I feel very much like Candice in the video, the silly and obnoxious big sister who's only claim to fame is being related to and older than Phineas and Pherb. How am I related to such incredible guys as you two??!! Just lucky I guess!!

Thursday, November 4, 2010

$10 well spent

My lifelong friend and first college roommate, Dana, has a heart of gold.  She's friends with a family in Utah, and sadly the father of this family has cancer, and it doesn't look like he's going to make it.  She wants to do all she can to help with their situation, so she's completed a few handmade crafts, and is selling them as a small fundraiser.  You can read about this family's story, and what she's selling here.  One of the items are these darling little flower clips, with accompanying headband for babies or toddlers with slowly growing locks, like my little sweetie, Merrylee.  Dana is asking for $10 for a set of flower clips and a headband, and that includes shipping.  Photos of the different sets are in the above link.  My girls love these little clips, it was money very well spent.  Check out Dana's blog, read about this family, and think about supporting this great cause.  I'd probably spend $10 for these cute clips as it is, the girls love them!!!  Knowing I helped make a small difference for a family in need made the purchase even sweeter.     

By the way, the girls are only modeling two of the flower clips, a full set comes with more!

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Western Beauty

Nine years ago my mom and I flew 2000 miles away from our home, and after a few tearful hugs, she left me in a very different and foreign place- the west!  It wasn't at all like the lush, green, and busy metropolis I was used to in the east, yet I grew to adore the large open skies and grand towering mountains of my new home on the college campus of BYU, in Provo, Utah. 

A few weeks ago we drove back to my first home-away-from-home to visit my sister, who has also left her native east coast land, and made the west her own.  She just had her first baby, and we were anxious to meet little Ryan. 

I felt a nostalgic thrill as we entered the Provo valley, again experiencing a bit of the excitement that comes from leaving home, and experiencing life on your own.  I loved my years spent out west.  So much has happened to me since I first flew over those mountains.  Being there again, I felt like I was introducing my old home to the new me, and my now growing family. 

We didn't get to do half the things we'd planned to do on our visit- but we did get to see lots of friends and family, and enjoy some beautiful sites and detours on our long drive.  It was a lot of car time, but that also meant a lot of family time, and with Daddy gone a lot, we can never have too much of that. 

Our little car has made several cross-country trips, and it drove smoothly for this one too!  The views were perfect, weather beautiful, family precious, and our girls amazingly tolerant of all the carseat time.  Thanks to my incredible husband who spent hours planning every mile so things would run smoothly- they did! I'm sad it's all over.  After 4000 miles of driving, that says a lot! 

To my dear friend, the west, 'till we meet again, and may we have many happy returns!