Doing It Anyway

2011-02-08T13:37:00.000-08:00

I have been on bedrest since December 8. I've had lots of contractions of sorts since around week 15, and as time has gone by, they increase both in frequency and intensity. I've had the official diagnosis of preterm labor for at least a month now, as they found that the contractions are doing the work they're supposed to (just not so soon!). I spent 5 days in the hospital at the end of January. For now I'm very happily and gratefully waiting out the rest of my pregnancy at home in bed. Home, in the company of the people I love most and in the comfort of my own space. I've almost made it to 32 weeks. The babies could come at any time. I could be sent back to the hospital at any time. It's all a lot of waiting. . . and things change from week to week. Carrying twins has become a physical challenge, and being bedridden for week after week an emotional one.

I've had my share of "why me" days, especially earlier when it would have been much more dangerous for them to be born. Why should I have a complicated pregnancy now, when the other 3 were largely uneventful? Why am I having problems, when most other twin moms I know (including my sister) carried their twins without much ado, and delivered them safely at or near term? Why am I stuck down when I have 3 other children who need me, and I want to be a mommy to them?

But as time goes by and I connect with other mothers who are or have been on bedrest, my "why me's" have changed. Why have I been so blessed with the feeling that something wasn't right- and the mind to push the doctor until he found out what? Why have these numerous blessings been handed to me throughout this pregnancy that have prevented some possible scary outcomes? Why do I deserve this big, wonderful family and ward family who have cared for me and my family all this time, and continue to ask what they can do- and do it? Why am I blessed with 3 little daughters who are wise and strong, compassionate and understanding, and coping better than I do most days? Why do I deserve this incredible husband who carries my load and his, and still always greets me with a smile and a kiss? Why have we been graced with his new job that will allow us to stay in Boise where our family and dear friends are? Why are my babies big for their gestational age, when I don't grow big babies? Why have I and my babies been so watched over and protected, why have I made it so far with them still in the womb where they belong, when so many suffer tragedy and loss- or birth much too early, and endure the lifelong effects of that. Why me?

I don't think there is even an answer. I am no more deserving of my Heavenly Father's love and care than anyone else, that's for sure. All I can do is thank Him, and when my season comes, try to give and serve as I've been served.

There is a profound beauty in this: our little Amelia, and our little (probably) Harrison, are being brought safely into this world because of an amazing network of love and support and willing hands. They are already being protected and cared for by all of the grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends, church leaders, and neighbors who will continue to love and nurture them as they grow into the people they're supposed to be. That, to me, is the greatest blessing of all.

Expectations

2010-11-09T10:43:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking a lot about expectations lately, and how we tie them to our happiness. I can look back on times that I was excited, joyful, optimistic- and those are usually times that something or someone met or exceeded my expectations. Conversely, the times I felt hurt, disappointed, dejected, or betrayed were usually because something, or usually someONE, didn't meet my expectations. I'll focus right now on our expectations of people.

I'm kind of funny in that I want and need my space, but I also crave intimacy with people. I've also trusted people too quickly and easily a lot of times in my life. That means that, without precedent to base my expectations on, I've taken for granted that someone would do X, or be Y, because they were my ________ or knew _________ . Then when things fall through, or in other words don't go the way I expected, I'm hurt or angry. I've spent too much time feeling badly about myself or someone else because they didn't do or say what I expected in a situation. . . or even worse, upset that they weren't the person I expected them to be.

How different would things be if I hoped for certain reactions or outcome, but only expected that what actually did happen would something for me to learn from. . . and ultimately, the only expectation I have is that I'll gather wisdom as I go along and react more appropriately to people? i.e., I hope that she'll be kind to me today. . . but if not I expect myself to try not to take it personally, and to remember today's interaction in the future so that I can be better prepared, and/or conduct myself differently. I hope that my husband will be home in time for dinner tonight, but I know he's doing his best and working so hard for us, so I expect myself to greet him with a smile and a kiss and a soft place to fall when he finally makes it here. See, I can really only realistically expect things of myself, because I am the only one that I am in control of. I can hope for things, but hope looks entirely different than expectation. I spoke about hope in church recently, and I plan to post that talk here shortly.

So many times it isn't people who disappoint us, it's our own expectations. Adjusting our expectations is hard and can be painful. Sometimes it means confronting the way that people really behave instead of expecting them to be how or who we want them to, and sometimes that means their place in our lives needs to change. It means taking responsibility for how we feel and how we react. But that means ownership of our feelings, which moves us from a place of vulnerability to a place of power over our own happiness.

On marriage

2010-10-17T18:01:00.000-07:00

A somewhat challenging pregnancy and the probability of a lot of change in the near future, as well as our 12th anniversary this week, has me thinking a lot about how very grateful I am for my husband. For the way we work together; the way we respect each other; the way we're best friends; the way he knows my very worst and loves me anyway, right along with my very best; the way he takes care of me but at the same time pushes me to be my best, and hopefully I do the same for him; the way we can laugh through even the hardest times.

It's easy to think that we've just always been this way because we were made for each other and we found our happily ever after. Not so. I do believe we were led to each other, because over the years and years before we met there are just too many things that put us both in the right place at the right time with the right person. But our happily ever after is an ongoing project that we're making together, day by day and year by year.

The beginning was a little rough. We're both kind of hard-headed and we were even more so then. Once we figured out that we were going to be together for a long time so we'd better figure this thing out, we figured out how to soften the edges. . . we found what worked for us to meet each others' needs as well as our own. I'm definitely not claiming perfection, but I think we've set a pretty good pattern to work the kinks out as they come along.

In short, we are happy because we choose to be, and we work at it.

I wish I could take credit for choosing a partner so well, but in truth he was this wonderful, gracious gift that was given to me. I didn't have a history of great choices when it came to romance, and my only experiences with love were fairly dysfunctional. All I know that I did was journal all the things I wished for in a husband: loyalty, stability, humor, wisdom, faith, ambition, tenacity, etc etc etc. . . and I probably prayed about those things and felt like it was a pipe dream. But I recently came across that journal entry- made at a very confusing and painful time in my life when I wasn't making super choices- and every single thing on that list is a perfect makeup of my Matt. Reading that was so humbling, and I am so grateful to a Father who helped me know at that moment what I really needed- even as I was praying at that time for someone who was almost the opposite- and prompted me to write it all down and ask for it, even though it wasn't a description of the one I thought I wanted more than anything.

I am thankful that my Father knows me, and loves me, and works for what is best for me even when I don't know what that is. I'm thankful for all of the hurt that meant losing something that would have probably meant an unhappy life, and that lead to what I can only imagine as the best kind of happiness that I could have ever hoped for.

I'm thankful for the rough patches Matt and I have walked through together, whether it was something one or both of us brought into the relationship, or something life threw at us unexpectedly. . . and I'm thankful for the strength and trust in each other that we've found on the other side. I'm thankful for the fun and joy and silliness, the faith and devotion, the constant effort to be better- things that I give most of the credit to Matt for.

He's my favorite subject and I could go on forever about all of his virtues, and the awesome blessing of being his wife, (maybe I have already), but I'll leave it at this: it is worth any pain, any time, any difficulty if you end up with someone who shares your ideals, wants for your happiness but even more wants for what is best for you both, loves you, cherishes you, and is faithful to your relationship. I agree with the sentiment that nothing will make or break your life more than the person you marry.

Thank you for making mine, sweetheart. It is my privilege and joy to share life with you, and I will be grateful forever and ever to our Heavenly Father for helping us find our way to each other, and for continuing to help us find our way together.

The latest

2010-09-09T20:49:00.000-07:00

Well. . . exhaustion and pretty icky morning sickness has kept me from doing much but sleeping, and lounging on the couch spending way too much time on Facebook and hulu.com and Netflix.

But the big news is that the extra tiredness and morning sickness is because I'm doing double duty. It's twins! I'm almost 10 weeks along. Got a second ultrasound yesterday, and they're beautiful and perfect, with strong little hearts. I've graduated from the fertility clinic and I'm on to a regular OB, who comes highly recommended by someone I trust very much (and a few others who followed her recommendation) and who I feel really good about. Even my fertility doctor expressed emphatic approval at my choice of doctor.

What I'm most excited about at the moment is that in 2 weeks I'll be done with shots. Nine shots a week have taken their toll on my poor hips, which are all bruised and sore and knotted. It's definitely worth it to keep my babies where they are and healthy. . . but I love transitioning into that period where it's a "normal" pregnancy without need of hormonal support.

So the big question is, who will they be? Two more girls? Two sons? One of each (they are definitely fraternal)?

Which brings me to an issue that I'm really glad we haven't had to explore too far before: circumcision. I'm doing lots of reading on the topic lately. All I will say at the moment is that I'd love to find some impartial, scientifically backed literature, for either the pro or con side, that doesn't involve people using words like "barbaric" and "mutilation" and "torture". Histrionics don't appeal to my sensibilities.

BFP! And morning suckness.

2010-08-14T10:21:00.000-07:00

So. . . in continuation of the last post, we got all of our test results back, resulting in the celebrated BFP (big fat positive)! I also have a row of HPT's (the kind you take at home) on my bathroom windowsill. I think I'm up to 5 now. Gross, I know, but I like looking at them. Each positive is darker than the last.

The hormone they test for (HCG) is on the high side, and even moreso the doubling rate is on the fast side. Usually they look for it to double within 48-72 hours, and for me it's doubled about every 28 hours. That could mean that it's just a really healthy pregnancy, or it could mean there's more than one in there. T-minus nine days until the ultrasound that will tell us for sure.

Right this minute, lots of HCG seems to mean lots of morning suckness. Yes, suckness. First it was a typo, now it's just a more descriptive term for the condition that has me always feeling green around the gills. I'm also very very very tired. . . which I know is par for the course, but I seem to be more tired than I was during my other pregnancies. Or I just forgot. Or I'm just getting old.

Whatever the cause, we're here. . . expecting, excited, a little nervous, and a lot happy. :)

WTH

2010-07-26T17:34:00.000-07:00

When I was 14, I was having some health problems (female-specific in nature) and consequently put through a lot of tests that were pretty scary at the time, and after which was rewarded with a scary-sounding diagnosis and a pronouncement that I would have difficulty having children, if I ever did at all. Pretty heavy weight to carry for a young teenager whose highest ambition of adulthood was to raise a family.

When I was dating Matt and things got serious, I put it all out on the table for him: my fertility was uncertain, might cost a lot of money, and I may never produce children. I remember sitting on the couch in his apartment, holding his hand, fully prepared for him to suddenly remember somewhere he needed to be or tell me he needed to think for awhile. . . but he just smiled and said, "So we'd adopt." And that was that. It was a very good marker for what it would be like to be married to this kind and honorable man.

We married. We tried. A few months into it, I felt like the ultimate failure in a Mormon bride. Church was sometimes unbearable. All around me were messages and evidences that my potential for joy, fulfillment, and true feminine virtue would forever be wrapped up in my ability- or inability, as it were- to conceive. This fallacy, alive and well in the hearts of "fertiles" and "infertiles" alike, Mormon and otherwise, is another topic that I could fill a book with. For now, suffice it to say that it was mostly a burden of my own making, but not entirely.

Somewhere in the second year of our marriage, at the ripe old age of 21, I dutifully went back to the doctor who diagnosed me in the first place. I learned quickly what many infertile women come to know: you don't get much help from your garden-variety OB/GYN. That's not a statement on their capabilities; they simply don't have the time to deal with the physical, emotional, and clinical demands of infertility on top of their regular work. So I looked in the phone book, found the only Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE) in Boise at the time, and made an appointment. And thus began a long descent into the world of fertility treatments.

I learned a whole new acronym-laden language for the low low price of tens of thousands of dollars over the next years. The RE did a battery of tests. Matt had already passed the SA, so it was definitely female factor (TMI? Sorry.). So he tested my E2, P4, T3 or T4, FT, and lots of other things, abbreviated and otherwise. Because of the diagnosis of PCOS, we first tried a few rounds of clomiphene accompanied by lots of u/s's. Then we graduated to IUI and I became well-acquainted with needles. We never intended to go as far as IVF, and the story of how we ended up there is one that needs its own entry. More tests, like HSG, more us's, then ET and a long recovery from a nasty case of OHHS. But in the end, IVF was the magic bullet. . . and that's how I started a love-hate relationship with PIO and weekly E2 and P4 blood tests. The dreaded 2ww. And then the long wait for the HCG tests. . . and the wonderful phone call to tell us that it was successful. Followed by 7 weeks more of daily PIO shots and biweekly estrogen shots. (With my second pregnancy, there was VTS, eventually necessitating some sadder acronyms I don't like to think about and certainly don't want to type.) Follow?

It worked twice. Then we got a sweet little red-headed surprise that was never supposed to happen. And now, 3+ years later, that familiar pull that says our family isn't complete. Actually, that pull started with a vengeance more than a year ago. It became evident that our freebie was most likely a one-time shot. I was distraught, and the level of distress surprised even me, since we have these three beautiful daughters that I was never sure I'd have. But the ache was there; no less painful than the first time around.

So we've done it again. After some weeks of meds and shots and tests and preparation, last Wednesday I had my third FET- frozen embryo transfer- and now I'm in that most awful of limbos: the 2ww (two-week wait, where you sit and stress and analyze every physical feeling you have until the doctor's blood test. And actually, at "my" clinic, it's a 10-day wait where, if you get positive results, you're pronounced "chemically pregnant", until another test 10 days later to confirm that HCG levels are doubling like they should in a healthy pregnancy, and then an OB ultrasound a few weeks later to see how the little guy(s) might be doing. Aren't you glad you asked?) This time the process has been physically harder, and emotionally not quite as hard in some ways, and hard in different ways than ever before. And we wait. My hips are bruised and sore, the shots' side effects cruelly mimic pregnancy symptoms which we over-analyze nevertheless, time crawls. . . and we wait. And OMH, I'm going C-R-A-Z-Y.

"...and a little child shall lead them. "

2010-06-09T18:20:00.000-07:00

This passage from Isaiah, and repeated in the Book of Mormon, has always been one of my favorites:
Isa. 11: 6

6 The ^awolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them.

I've always had this beautiful image of complete peace, even down to the little creatures and beasts of the earth, led by a child. The picture in my head was always more literal: A child with a crook in her hand, leading this little parade. However, the longer I'm a mother, the more depth I see in this verse.

My children teach me and lead me so much. They see the world and their own possibilities through a completely different filter than I do. Their view is not tainted by years of disappointment, embarrassment, and failure that lead to insecurity and fear. To a child the sky is the limit. There's an ad on TV that I love, because it so accurately captures my 5-year-old's way of dancing through life, and contrastingly the way we allow our capacity to dream to be squashed as the years go by:

AT&T "Imagination"

I was in the kitchen a little while ago making dinner and running to the laundry room now and then to manage loads there. My 5-year-old burst into the house in her own exuberant way and exclaimed, "MOM! I was out there practicing on my 2-wheeler, and I almost got it twice!" I said, "Really? I bet you'll have it pretty soon!" She replied, "I KNOW I will! Wanna know why? Because I'm really good at practicing!"

How's that for being led by a child? Do you think she kept track of how many times she tried and didn't even "almost" make it? What a beautiful perspective. I don't fall. I don't fail. I'm really good at practicing!

Out of the pan, into the fire.

2010-05-17T19:38:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had a problem, or something you wanted to accomplish, and the solution seemed to be on the other side of something even worse? My typical reaction is to feel like I'm between a rock and a hard place, in a pickle, jumping out of the pan and into the fire. I'm kind of an Eeyeore by nature. Bless my mother, I was always a melodramatic child and especially teenager. I imagine that's been something a little annoying to the people around me, but it's not a whole lot of fun for me, either (yes, I totally see the irony in that statement).

One of my projects the last couple of years has been to re-frame how I see challenges. For instance, instead of challenges, we can see opportunities. I say "opportunity" tongue-in-cheek sometimes when things are really hard and life just kind of stinks, but really, if I work at it I can see it that way. Even if I don't mean it at first. The words we use, even to ourselves, have a lot of power. I can say, "I should exercise today. . .", or I can say, "I want to keep getting stronger and keep the ground I've gained, so I'm going to work out." I can say, "I should do the dishes", or I can say, "It want that monkey off my back, so I'm just going to get it done and enjoy a clean kitchen", or even better, "I want a peaceful atmosphere for my family, so I'm going to clean the kitchen now." See the difference? I'm not great at it, but it gets easier with practice.

Another thing is to really honestly see the chance for growth, gained wisdom, or exciting changes in the more difficult parts of life. Sometimes we do have to pass through sorrow to get through the joy; we have to walk through the fire. But is that such a bad thing? Fire refines, fire tempers, fire changes simple elements like sand and raw gold into beautiful art. From a spiritual perspective, our loving Father lets us walk through trials of fire to bring out the beauty that we're meant to have. I can look back to who I was 5, 10, 15 years ago, and while I can love that girl, I'm sure glad I'm not her anymore. The heartaches, trials, loss, complications. . . the opportunities. . . progressively change us into something stronger and more beautiful.

Name change and a little soul-bearing.

2010-05-11T11:15:00.000-07:00

This blog has become more a blog about Jennifer than a blog about Jennifer's family. Which is okay. . . I'm just going to accept that it is just that, and let it progress in that direction. Someday maybe Matt and I will do a family blog. Right now I can't shake the thought that for me, and maybe for someone else, this will be a good place to share and keep record of this constant effort of mine to know better, do better, and be better.

"Do It Anyway". It's a phrase I've heard a lot, but it's a philosophy that I've taken to heart most recently. I think we all let things into our lives that block us from the paths we really want to take; or we allow those things that are unavoidably there, and not by our choice, to paralyze us from doing what we need to do to be who we want to be. That's what this blog will be about, at least for now. It's about getting out of bed and opening the curtains and taking care of my home even though I'm going through another depression. It's about loving and accepting my children for the unique, frustrating, wonderful people they are, even if they don't seem to appreciate it. It's about getting back on the elliptical machine or the yoga mat even though the scale isn't budging. And mostly it's about being grateful, and joyful, and anxiously engaged even when life seems tedious or scary or uncertain or hard. . . because really, the secret to joy is finding beauty in the storm clouds and peace in the chaos. It's seeing and accepting the not-so-fun parts of mortality and facing them with bravery and even gratitude and enthusiasm. Even when we don't feel like it. We do it anyway.

And so now I'll take my sweet 5-year-old to school, steal some snuggles from her little sister, and fluff the nest for my 8-year-old and my sweet husband to come home to, because I am so blessed to have a beautiful little home and people I love to fill it, and to be able to be here to do the carpooling and snuggling and nest-fluffing.

<3 J

Restoration

2010-04-09T09:23:00.000-07:00

There's a little bleeding heart plant next to my walkway outside the front door. I bought it at the beginning of the season last year; a leggy, wilted closeout plant that only set me back a couple of dollars. I found a place for it that seemed to have just enough sun, put it in the ground, and hoped for the best. (I'm not exactly known for my mad gardening skills.) It grew a little, even bloomed a little, and as the heat of summer set in, it yellowed and wilted. The cold of fall seemed to finish it off, and by early winter it was a few brown stems lying on the ground; a shadow of the little plant that had given us a handful of lovely heart-shaped blooms just months earlier.

Every Spring I find a measure of happiness in watching my bulbs pop up and all of the dormant plants showing signs of life. I had forgotten about the little bleeding heart. I looked at the spot a month or so ago and thought what a strange weed it was growing there between my tulips and my daffodils. I didn't have the time right then to take care of it, so I went about my day. This morning I came home from taking my dog for a little walk, and noticed that suddenly that "weed" was a robust, thriving little shrub; that same bleeding heart plant that I had added to the bed late last Spring, now already starting a pretty little show of fuchsia blooms and looking much hardier and happier than last year.

In February I had the amazing opportunity to join the staff of February's Brave Girl Camp. It's a project that two of my sisters, Melody and Kathy, have been dreaming about for a long time and have recently made happen. It's an art and life retreat, designed to help women center themselves, get to know themselves better, define where they'd like to be going, remember how to really love themselves and others, I could go on and on. . . I think the outcome is different for everyone. My function was supposed to be to help take care of the wonderful guests, to make sure it was a peaceful, relaxing, safe environment and they had everything they needed and wanted. I ended up getting infinitely more out of it than I could have contributed, though.

Of all of the things I learned and gained there, one of the most significant was the concept of closing for restoration. I don't think I could teach the concept as eloquently as my sister does, but I'll summarize the best I can. Basically it's a process of self-renewal and reflection where you learn eliminate the unhealthy things in your life, embrace the enlightening and beautiful, and figure out how to live with the in-between. It's hard work that no one can do for you; sometimes painful, often liberating, and definitely worth it. (Melody fully explains this concept on her blog, but it's back in the archives a couple of years. I'll ask her if she knows exactly where and link it when I find it.) Ironically I drove up to camp thinking how wonderful it is that I'm in such a healthy place in my life and so available to help others, but that's not exactly how things went down! It was the beginning of a lot of soul work for me. Work that only I can do. I did a lot of thinking, and lot of praying, a LOT of crying. But it has been so, so good. So necessary. Between the restorative process and some realizations I came to through the very therapeutic art I had the opportunity to create I feel like a less encumbered, more present, lighter, clearer version of myself.

I still have lots and lots of work to do, but my little bleeding heart plant gives me hope. What I saw as wilted flowers, and then a lost cause, and then a weed has become the beginnings of a strong, beautiful part of the flower bed. Underneath the brown stems and wilted leaves, far beneath the surface my little bleeding heart was doing hard work. When the frosts had almost passed and the sun was out and the plant knew that the time was right, when it was strong enough where it counted most, and nature's intuition said it was safe to go outside, it pushed its way through, grew and grew, and now has stronger stems and more leaves and many more blossoms than last year. And it's just getting started!

2010-02-26T12:36:00.000-08:00

Almost a year. Well that's just funny.

We went to Florida, and I did all of my updating on Facebook. Maybe I'll get some pictures over here eventually. It was an amazing, once-in-a-lifetime trip.

We also took a great trip to Utah for a week to see Matt's sister Stephanie and her family. Usually we only see them when a million other family members are around, so it was really wonderful to spend time just with them. They're a great family. That was the extent of our travels for the year, though Matt took a business trip or two.

We FINALLY got our lawn in! It's so nice to see green back there. Shortly afterward we got the girls the dog we'd been promising them, a sweet golden retriever named Daisy. She's kind of digging up the new lawn (sorry Matt :( ) but overall she's a good dog and the girls love her.

We had a quiet, simple Christmas which was really wonderful, and I think we'll strive for that every year.

Last week I was able to go help my sisters at their amazing business venture, Brave Girls Camp (http://www.bravegirlsclub.com/). Though I was there to work, I got so much out of it. . . or maybe that was part of the reason I got so much out of it. It was truly a joy to serve the women who were there and make it a loving, safe environment for them. The biggest thing I took away from that is that I want to serve my own family as joyfully, and make our home a place where they feel safe and unconditionally loved; a place where we can grow and thrive and become who Heavenly Father wants us to be.

Next week we'll hear if Matt still has a job, and whether that job will be here or in Denver, CO. . . so we might have some big changes coming up. I'm past the freak-out stage and at peace with whatever happens. We're in good hands.

Wow!

2009-04-28T09:53:00.000-07:00

I knew it had been awhile since I posted anything, but I didn't realize how many months! Life gets so busy and flies by.

I don't even know that there's much of note to mention as far as what has happened the last few months. Just the same old stuff: school, piano lessons, work, chasing kids, trying to keep the house somewhat presentable. . .

We did have a very very long and very very sick winter. One thing after another hit our house, from colds to stomach bugs to hand, foot, and mouth disease. That one was fun. So much fun that a lot of people in the ward decided to share with each other, and we were some of the lucky ones!

We do have something EXCITING coming up! A week from today we're leaving for sunny FLORIDA! I can't wait. Especially since Idaho this week has been spotty rain and chilly wind. Matt has a conference in Florida so we decided to all go. We'll be there a week and a half! We'll do lots of swimming and lounging around, do a couple of days of Disney, and hopefully Seaworld and the Atlantic Ocean. I really want to make sure Matt gets to the Kennedy Space Center. We've never really taken a family vacation. In fact the kids had their first road trip last summer, 4 hours away to Idaho Falls. The plane ride (2 hours then 5 hours on the way, and 2 legs of 3 hours each when we come home) should be an adventure. . .

Depending on time and internet connection, I'll journal our trip here as we go. Then the day after we get back, Stephanie and Brian are getting married! Yay!

Ch-ch-changes!

2009-01-19T12:28:00.000-08:00

It's been a really busy month. Still busy, but here I am typing anyway.

When we bought our house, the bonus room was unfinished. Meaning everything was roughed in, and the drywall taped and textured. The builder did a cruddy job on that so when we first moved in, we had someone re-texture. Then we put the laminate flooring down, and painted. And that's all we had done for the last 3 years (other than putting every random box of stuff and piece of furniture without a home upstairs, rendering the floor unwalkable). . . until this month.

My nephew Chaz is a very talented finish carpenter. The construction business has been slow, so we had him come over and give is a bid for finishing everything up. The price was right and we went for it. Now our unfinished room is finished: awesome closets, lovely closet doors (yay!), and trim. He also built some shelves in the music room closet. We're pretty excited about the whole thing. More storage! And our house basically just grew by 300 sq feet or so, since we have this whole room to use!

It's meant lots of painting. (Note to self- in the future, paint baseboards BEFORE putting them up). Lots of moving things around. Lots of sorting. There's still MUCH to do. But hopefully by the end of this week, our bonus room will have a nice family office area on one side, and a sitting/movie watching/game-playing area on the other. Did I mention how much I love the closets? Three cheers for organization!

In other news, I (Jen) went to the doctor a couple of weeks ago. I knew the news would be bad, but it was worse than I thought. I've gained a lot of weight in the last 4 months. My energy has been nonexistent. Lots of other stuff too. . . but it was a good wakeup call. I need to care for my body and get my health in order so I can be here for my family for a good long time. I joined Weight Watchers, which I really like so far, and in the last week or so I've lost about 7 pounds. I also found out I have hypothyroidism and probably have had for a long time. Starting meds for that and some other things. I'm going to get my healthy, happy, energetic, motivated self back. I'm excited!

Matt's job is stable so far. Piano has slowed down quite a lot for me - that's one of the first extras people will cut out in hard times - but we're doing fine, and I'm kind of okay with it. Abby is doing great at school. All of them are growing and thriving. We have a sweet, happy little family. We're so blessed!

Definitive word from an Authority

2009-01-03T12:33:00.000-08:00

I read this today, and it made me think about the way that women bicker and fight and judge and criticize one another to feel better about what they're doing. . . it's not the Lord's way. Just because I do one thing and it's right for my family doesn't mean it's right for yours. And me not doing it your way doesn't make you a better mother than I am. We just need to STOP focusing so much on how other people run their families, and look more at how we can improve our own. Anyway, he says it best:

"Each Motherhood Situation Unique
Posted: 18 Dec 2008 01:00 AM CST"There is no one perfect way to be a good mother. Each situation is unique. Each mother has different challenges, different skills and abilities, and certainly different children. The choice is different and unique for each mother and each family. Many are able to be 'full-time moms,' at least during the most formative years of their children's lives, and many others would like to be. Some may have to work part- or full-time; some may work at home; some may divide their lives into periods of home and family and work. What matters is that a mother loves her children deeply and, in keeping with the devotion she has for God and her husband, prioritizes them above all else."
M. Russell Ballard, "Daughters of God," Ensign, May 2008, 108 "

Happy New Year!

2009-01-01T14:01:00.000-08:00

We had a great time celebrating the new year last night at the Blackwoods' house. There were 5 families squeezed into the house, but it was just cozy and fun! The kids played together well. For the most part, the women were in the kitchen gabbing (or as my dad would say, having a hen party) and the men were in the family room playing Wii. Ah, the natural order of things.

We're a bunch of wimps though, and all of us gave up and went home by 11:15.

We really, really love this ward and the friends we've made here.

2008 was eventful, to say the least. It will be very interesting to see what 2009 has in store for our family, our ward, the country, the world. . . it seems like so much is in upheaval right now, especially the economy. Our greatest prayer (other than of course the health and well-being of our family) is that Matt's job remains stable, and the jobs of our loved ones.

I do have to say that I love this time. A chance to evaluate where we are, and where we were a year ago. To think about where we want to go over the next year. I know goals can be made any time, but I like the tradition of starting the year anew with a plan. That's what I'm thinking about today; making lists in my head and thinking of each facet of life, what can be done away with, what needs more attention, what needs tweaked. . .It's a hopeful feeling.

None of us are victims or prisoners of our past; we never have to just accept things as they are. With planning, work, determination, and a lot of prayer, we can grow into who we want to be.

Here's to a year of growth and positive changes!

December? Really?

2008-12-11T09:41:00.001-08:00

I can't believe we're at the end of 2008. This year flew by in some ways. In some ways it has been a great one, in other ways I'm glad to see the end of it. It's been kind of a weird and wild one, but we've also been immeasurably blessed. We're all healthy and happy and have everything we need, so we can't complain!

Sunday was Anna's 4th birthday. She said she wanted to have a party "just with my family that lives in my house", but last-minute changed her mind and wanted grandparents, too. The Johnson grands couldn't make it, but the Rummlers came for cake and ice cream. She asked for "a bunch of duckies", and that's what she got! We found a set of 24 little rubber ducks wearing different costumes. I'm not sure that's what she had in mind, as she's not as psyched about them as we thought. Oh well, we tried, and she said she had a great birthday.

Christmas is knocking at our door. We love this season. Our house has lots of lights and what decorations we have (note to self: need more Christmas decor! Shop after-Christmas sales!). We have our sad little Charlie Brown tree up. . . it was used at the church last year for a giving tree, and by the time we got it home, the base was pretty much ruined. But we have our little tree taped together and propped up. It's fallen about 6 times this year, but Matt found a resourceful way to keep it up by taking a glass panel out of our coffee table and setting it through that space. It works pretty well! We'll be shopping for a new one after Christmas, though. Baking is underway, most of the presents are bought, and we're playing lots of Christmas music. This weekend, we'll hopefully get some snow, too!

If we don't post before Christmas, have a merry one. Enjoy some goodies and family and music. That's what we'll be doing!

Still around. . .

2008-11-09T11:40:00.001-08:00

No use totally catching up, so here's a recap. Hooray for bullet points! In the last 2 months:

Abby started first grade! She's a great student, and really thrives on that energy and in the presence of so many kids. So far we've been really happy with her teachers. We try to stay involved and of course extend her education to outside of school. We're hoping that we can get her into a charter school at least before middle school hits. The demand is really high around here and the waiting lists are long. If we don't get her in one of the Harbor charters by then, we'll seriously consider an arts charter. Still a waiting list, but not as long.
We celebrated Jennifer's twenty-tenth birthday. Boy, did that one sneak up! No tears here though, just excitement.
We celebrated our tenth anniversary! We are so happy together, and we're off to a great start. Forever together looks better all the time!
We had a staycation. . . a whole week at home where we largely ignored the phone and all of our worldy obligations. We spent the week doing things we love to do: playing video games, going fun places, laughing together, having our favorite foods, getting ready for Halloween, putting ourselves in diabetic comas. . . good times! It went way too fast.
Jennifer got a new calling as primary chorister. Right before the primary program. That's right. . . It's fun though.
We helped plan and execute our ward's ridiculously overdone but seriously fun Halloween activity. Matt is still on activities committee (as well as teaching Elder's Quorum a couple times a month) Didn't we say we were going to simplify last year?
We got a new niece, a new nephew, an older nephew home from his mission, engaged, and married, and and older niece got engaged to be married in May; learned we are getting another great-nephew, great-niece, and niece or nephew of as-yet-unkown gender. The family is growing and growing!

and, of course,

Watched the United States of America elect her first African-American president. We didn't vote for him as he wasn't the closest match to our politics, but the historic significance of the event wasn't lost on us. We still think it's pretty cool. More on this later from Matt.

$412.32

2008-09-15T16:24:00.001-07:00

That's what I had to pay today to get our A/C going again. Why? A stinking earwig (pincher bug) got in and shorted out 2 electrical parts.

So here's a PSA: keep the area around your unit free of grass, weeds, and plants. Helps keep the buggies away, apparently.

Unity through trials

2008-09-15T12:53:00.000-07:00

We've loved our ward since we moved here. This has been the best ward, for us, that we've ever been in. That's significant because we really loved our last ward, too. We feel that we belong here, though. We have good friends in this ward, many people that we get along really well with. I've especially made some wonderful "girl" friends here who love so much.

This summer was hard for our ward. We had one really devastating tragedy; one of those things that, even though it didn't directly happen to you, you know will change you forever. The night it happened I remember crying with my friends on the phone, praying with them, brainstorming ways we could help the people going through it. Our hearts were broken, we were all desperate to fix it. Church that Sunday was very solemn and intensely spiritual where, as a Ward family we talked about it, and discussed the Gospel principles that could help them (and us) through it. Now I can see how that and a few other things that happened within the ward united us. The ward feels even more like a family. Healing is still happening, but even now we can see how we all pull together.

In our marriage, we've seen the same principle. One of the biggest struggles we had was infertility early in our marriage. Since 14 years old I was told that I may never have children. Even having advanced warning of those problems didn't help much when it all came down to it and we wanted nothing more than to be parents. Matt was a bit stronger than I was, but it was hard on both of us- both the uncertainty of it, and the many procedures and medications we tried in those years. Now, with our house buzzing with our 3 little miracles, that seems like a lifetime ago. But the strength we found leaning on the Lord and on each other is still there. Our relationship is a good, solid, blissfully happy one. Every difficulty we work through has bonded us more strongly together, and for that I'm grateful.

Even on an individual level, or maybe ESPECIALLY on an individual level, it's easy to see how the trials we have in our lives unite us more with the Lord as we lean on Him. There is so much beauty in the Gospel.

The 8 worst apologies ever

2008-09-11T11:49:00.000-07:00

(an article on CNN that I saw this morning and liked)

(The Frisky) -- Despite what that old chestnut love story will have you believe, love doesn't mean never having to say you're sorry.

In fact, one of the most important components of any relationship is the ability to suck it up and apologize every now and again.

It's hardly brain surgery, but who among us hasn't been the recipient of an apology that wound up making you feel even worse than the original transgression?

For something that's basically a no-brainer, there's a bevy of ways to get it very, very wrong.

In fact, the late Randy Pausch's bestseller, "The Last Lecture," has an entire chapter called "A bad apology is worse than no apology."

Now granted, men are definitely more prone to the botched apology (see John Edwards, Bill Clinton, etcetera), but we ladies have also been known to blow an act of contrition on occasion. Here are some apology strategies to avoid:

1. The blame shifter

Witness the number one worst way to say sorry of all time: "I'm sorry you feel that way." Interesting game plan -- blaming the person you're ostensibly making amends to for getting rightfully pissed off at your horrendous behavior. If you're not sorry for your actions, don't apologize. If you are genuinely repentant, take off the training bra, squeeze 'em into the underwire, and take responsibility like a woman.

2. Lady liquor made me do it

So you had a little too much to drink at a friend's birthday party and ended up making out in the bathroom with the bartender. When your boyfriend finds out, it's probably best to just own up to the mistake rather than say, "But I was drunk!" Those five shots of tequila only gave you the courage to do something stupid and regretful, it didn't actually do it for you.

3. It's all in the genes

What I wouldn't pay to be a fly on the wall the first time some cheater tries to use the new study showing that some men have a genetic predisposition towards non-monogamy. Sorry ladies, so far there's no equivalent study for us female types, so don't even think about it.

4. Forcing forgiveness

"You have to forgive me -- you must!" Demanding absolution is possibly more annoying than your original sin. This is a lose/lose.

5. The big but

An acquaintance's wife apologized for sleeping with a coworker with the caveat, "But he came onto me!" So obviously she had no choice but to cozy up. Oh, please. Inserting the word "but" into any apology immediately negates it.

6. The sympathy bid

A boyfriend once "apologized" for standing me up by ruefully rambling on about how his tragic childhood left him ill-equipped to deal with obligations. What this had to do with blowing off dinner still eludes me. You're supposed to be making a plea for forgiveness, not hosting a pity party for one.

7. e-Sorry

There are very few occasions that warrant an e-card. Screwing up and subsequently begging forgiveness via an animated teddy bear and a terrible jingle is definitely not one of them.

8. Skirting the issue

"I'm sorry I hurt your feelings," is not the same as "I'm sorry I cheated on you with your best friend, in your bed, while you were at your uncle's funeral." Though either way you phrase it, I wouldn't hold my breath waiting for forgiveness on that one.

Thousands of peaches. . .

2008-09-04T17:01:00.001-07:00

Oh, how I love fall. Okay maybe it's not technically fall, but we're doing typical fall things: Abby started school, I'm back at piano lessons, and we're starting to harvest things from the garden (by "things", I mean tomatoes. Mostly cherry. I managed to kill everything else). Other things I love about fall? I was born in the fall, which has improved my life tremendously. I was married in the fall, which has improved my life at least as much! There is one thing about fall that I think I still love (ask me next week), which will be the subject of this post:

Peaches.

I was raised on canned peaches. Beautiful, tasty canned peaches. I have fond memories of going to Schumaker's or Williamson's to pick peaches with my silbings and my mom, and then having boxes and boxes of peaches in the kitchen while she spent the week artfully cutting, sugaring, and canning them, then lining them in gorgeous rows. Those weeks were wonderful. We had sliced peaches on waffles, sliced peaches on ice cream, peaches and cream, peach scampi, peach a la king. . . sorry, I was channeling Bubba for a second. I know I'm seeing those weeks through peach-colored glasses, because only now I'm realizing the amount of work those weeks were for Mom!

I've always had quite a domestic bent. I yearn to be the kind of homemmaker my mother has always been. I usually fall flat, but I try. This year, the church orchard had a bumper crop of Elberta peaches, so I decided to try my hand at canning.

Dad, Mom, the two little ones and I set out for Caldwell on Monday morning. The drive was lovely. The weather was perfect. Driving up the hill to the church farm, there is a breathtaking view of the orchards and vineyards and fields below. We found the right rows. The peaches were perfect. Plump and fuzzy with beautiful hues of yellows and oranges and reds. My little ones were having fun, I was hanging out with some of my favorite people. I was in heaven.

Peach fuzz does things to a person's skin that are not pleasant. Nevertheless, I had a goal in mind. We spent the first part of the morning picking for the welfare cannery, then started picking our own. By now the baby was starting to fuss, so I was in a hurry. I was shooting for 2 or 3 bushels, so I spent the next hour picking and hauling as quickly as I could. We got ready to leave. Dad looked in the back of the van and laughed at the quantity. More like 5 or 6 bushels. Oh well, I thought, even better! Lots of peaches.

Well. . . yesterday I sorted through them and reboxed, in order of ripeness. I had a small box of pretty ripe ones, but not enough for The Big Production, so I decided to make jam. That would be a good use of the small box!

Two hours and five peaches later, I had 6 1/2 pints of jam and aching feet.

So this morning, I moved on to freezer jam. That would use more! Four peaches and a few small containers took me a little over an hour. And gave me an aching back.

So I said to myself, hey, self, we use peaches for smoothies. Let's just freeze the rest! Over an hour and a little more than half the box later, I have about 3 gallons of peach slices in the freezer.

Folks, I haven't even used half a bushel. I asked my mom how many bushels she used to get. Twelve. TWELVE. She'd spend all day, every day for the better part of a week canning those twelve bushels. And my mom is Superwoman, if you didn't know. She can outwork any man or woman I can think of, and that's not hyperbole.

So here's some math I know:

If my mom cans 12 bushels of peaches in a week, how long will it take me to can about 6? Factor in the Superwoman factor, and I'm hoping to be done by Halloween. Of course, they won't last that long.

Thankfully, Superwoman is coming over tomorrow to get me going and give me her hard-earned wisdom. Fifty-ish years of being a housewife, and I get to glean all of that knowledge. Maybe I'll be done sometime this month.

I love peaches. . .right?

I laugh every time.

2008-08-06T11:36:00.000-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=71kckb8hhOQ

I went, I tried not to look, I conquered.

2008-07-22T10:05:00.000-07:00

Last week, Matt spent 5 days in San Diego helping his granddad out while Granddad's wife was out of town. I decided that while he was gone, I'd take the girls to Idaho Falls to visit their cousins and hit the Twin Falls Temple open house on the way.

I excitedly made all the plans. I would drive to Twin on Thursday, we'd stay Thursday night at a hotel with cable and a pool, go to the open house Friday morning, and on to Idaho Falls after that.

I was quite satisfied with my little plan, until I remembered one thing: The Perrine Bridge.

The Perrine Bridge is the bridge that connects Twin Falls to I-84: the quickest route from where we are. It also happens to be a quarter mile long and almost 500 feet high. I'm afraid of heights. I'm afraid of bridges. High bridges? Forget it.

So I looked at alternate routes and decided I'd go through Hagerman, which would add an hour to the trip but didn't include any ridiculous bridges; also it's a pretty drive.

We dropped Matt off at the airport and headed for Twin Falls. The baby fell asleep. At Mountain Home, she was still asleep. As I neared the Bliss/Hagerman turnoff, she was still asleep. At that point I had to decide whether to take the long way and quite probably brave a cranky toddler over the next 2 hours, or take the short way and brave the bridge. I decided that the latter was a better option.

And I did it.

However, I did not close my eyes, as my sister suggested. (Don't worry, I know you were kidding.)

Why is missionary work so hard?

2008-07-03T11:01:00.001-07:00

We have some next door neighbors that we love. They're some of the best Christians you'll ever meet. Their denomination is Baptist, though they only want to be identified as Christian and they've recently been "church shopping" because they're unhappy with how their congregation is feeling more like business and less like worship.

These people are really the salt of the earth. Very family oriented, and they sincerely live Jesus' teachings.

So of course we've been looking for the opportunity to share the Gospel with them. We're friends, we have mutual respect for each other, and we talk about religion now and then. But I've been waiting to really jump in and open my mouth.

The Twin Falls Temple open house starts next week. I know they have family there, and I know they're probably curious about the Temple. For our fifth Sunday combined lesson, the missionaries talked to us about opening our mouths, and about inviting people to the open house. Until now I haven't felt that it's the right time for our neighbors, but the spirit I felt at that meeting was awesome! My heart was leaping and I KNEW it was their time. I even shed a few little tears of excitement for them. I couldn't wait to come home and invite them.

I came home and chickened out.

I almost went Tuesday, and noticed that her mom was visiting. And chickened out.

This morning she called and asked to borrow some flour. I went over and we had pleasant conversation, and with a prayer in my heart I jumped in and did it. I handed her an invitation, told her that this is a special and unusual opportunity, and I knew they had family in Twin, so I wanted to offer it to them. She was very warm and receptive.

Then it came. I was braced for it. "I have a question about your temples." What was she going to ask about? I knew she'd gotten, and rejected, a lot of anti-Mormon literature. I told her I'd be happy to answer, but I was nervous.

"My husband noticed that the temples always face East. Why is that?"

I paraphrased the scripture about Christ returning from the East, and she nodded knowingly. The Spirit was there. She thought that might have been the answer. I expanded that those East doors are reserved for Him, and we don't use them. She loved that.

I hope they go. I pray for further guidance.

When was the last time you were purely happy?

2008-07-01T09:32:00.000-07:00

For me, it was last Friday. I got some wonderful news from one of my favorite people. Then Matt had half a day at work, so we took a family day. We went to the hobby store, saw Kung Fu panda, got dinner and ice cream, and shopped a little. We had so much fun with our little girls. Watching a kids' movie with kids makes it so much more fun! The day was just simple and perfect. The sky was clear blue and everything seemed to just go right. I think it's those simple days that are the most significant.

RIP, Sam.

2008-07-01T09:29:00.000-07:00

Our weird little shih tzu, Samwise Gamgee, has passed on. When people start doing fireworks, he often gets spooked, finds a place to dig under the fence, and runs. He ran away about 6 times in June, but every time someone found him and returned him. This time, he didn't come back. Animal Control came by yesterday to inform me that he's deceased.

Overall he was a good little dog. Pretty easygoing, and best of all, wonderful with the kids. He'll be missed.

Another funny

2008-06-24T13:27:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I took Allie to the doctor for her 12-month visit and vaccinations. Before we even got to the shots, she was really, really mad. Bright red face, yelling and chewing the doctor out in her own language. She didn't want to be touched or looked at and she was letting us know. The doctor finished up and as she was leaving said, "Bring her back at 15 months" and Allie looked down and the floor and said, "Nooooooo." I think I heard the doctor laughing out in the hall for a solid minute.

Kids crack me up.

2008-06-22T09:55:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I was with the 2 littlest ones walking around Target. I was in the garden section and saw one of those horrendously freaky little garden gnomes. I actually think they're hilarious, probably because of King of the Hill, and would have bought it if it wasn't upwards of $20. As I'm standing there contemplating, Anna looks at Freaky Gnome and says in her sweet little voice, "Oooohhhh. Pretty Santa."

ONE

2008-06-18T09:30:00.000-07:00

Our baby is a year old today! I can't believe it! A year ago last night, on Father's Day, I was sitting in my brother's living room pretty miserable, and my sisters were telling me I was in labor. I didn't believe them. . . but later that night went into full-blown labor, and early in the morning, there was our little redhead. We sure love her, and we were blessed to have such a delightful little surprise.

Frustration!

2008-05-31T14:40:00.000-07:00

My thumb is cursed. Or our yard. Or both.

We built the house and left the yard unfinished with the idea that we'd put it in ourselves. That was our first mistake! We're not handy people. Seriously, we have no business owning a home. Regardless, here we are. We've lived in this house two and a half years. Our backyard is still dirt and weeds. Matt is out right now taking a turn tilling it for what I think is the third time, he says two. Trenches for sprinklers have been dug twice. We have all of the supplies to put in sprinklers, and we've had them since last Spring? Summer? I can't even remember. Something ALWAYS gets in the way. Matt has to work a weekend, or he gets sick, or the weather is bad; last fall the irrigation got turned off a month early so we couldn't do it then.

For the last two months we've been trying to get this project underway and just FINISHED for goodness' sake. . . but we're still stuck in tilling phase. I'm getting absolutely disgusted with the whole process. I want to just hire someone to come in and finish, but at this point for Matt, it's a matter of principle. Also we don't really have the money to do that, but that's a minor detail.

I got a garden box from my mom, and built two more earlier this month. I got tons of strawberry and raspberry plants from her. Half the strawberries and all but two of the raspberries are dead. In the boxes I built, I planted tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, peppers, squash, beans. . . the tomatoes are barely alive, the cucumbers and squash and zucchini are dead (seriously, WHO can kill zucchini?!!), the peppers are doing okay, and the beans never came up. It even says on the package, "Anyone can grow beans". They haven't met me. I bought good soil to plant all of this stuff in. I've kept it watered.

I don't know. This is me throwing my hands in the air and crying "Uncle".

Speechless.

2008-05-27T13:09:00.001-07:00

Today I went to pick Abby up at the bus stop at the front of our neighborhood. Usually the bus comes at about 11:30. The bus was right on time, but with a different driver: a nice, grandfatherly type. Instead of pulling up to the corner like usual, he pulled up to the side of my van and opened the door to talk to me as Abby climbed down the stairs of the bus. He looked very concerned, and I knew something was wrong.

"There are .two very small boys walking along Happy Valley, and one isn't dressed. It doesn't look right. Do you know who they are?" I told him I didn't, but I'd be happy to go check it out and see if I could figure out where they belonged. He thanked me and left.

As I drove out of the neighborhood, I saw my friend Suzanne with two very small, towheaded boys. I knew from the look on her face that she didn't know who they were, and that she was worried. The wind was blowing a little bit, but it's wasn't terribly cold. Still, one was only in a shirt and a diaper, and he had a small frame, so I thought he had to be chilly.

Suzanne told me that she was driving out of the neighborhood when she saw these two little boys walking down the middle of the street. Happy Valley is a busy road. It has a mix of regular traffic and farm traffic, which means we get a lot of semis and work trucks and tractors, some of which come through very fast. The fact that they were walking through the middle of such a busy street is alarming. Add to that the fact that they were heading toward a very busy intersection, and in front of that train tracks. . . and for an immediate threat, they were directly in front of a registered sex offender's house. Suzanne pulled over and got them out of the street and onto the sidewalk in front of our neighborhood. She was trying her best to figure out their names, where they live, where they were going, anything. . . but the 2-year-old seemed to be nonverbal, and the 5-year-old had a speech issue that even Suzanne, who is a speech pathologist, couldn't completely break through.

I drove a block away to Michelle's house. Michelle knows everyone. At that point we thought we had the boys' names: Christopher and Joey. Christopher told me his mom's name was Vicki, or at least that's what I thought he said. I asked Michelle if she knew a Vicky with 2 little blonde boys, and she didn't. She suggested we call the police and I agreed. I drove back to Suzanne and the boys, and she was already on the phone with them.

Suzanne had to get to work. I told her I'd be happy to stay until the police got there. She told them my name, thanked me, and left. So there I was, sitting barefoot (what a day to not wear my shoes. I was just picking Abby, up, after all. Lesson learned.) on the sidewalk with these sweet little boys. Christopher did some Spiderman moves for me and told me about some dogs, and other things that little boys encounter. I asked about his mom. Was she home? He said no. Was anyone home? Again, no. He said Mom took his sister Bridget to the doctor, and he and Joey wanted to go but Mom and Dad said no. So they ventured out on their own to find the doctor's office and the rest of their family. With more questioning, he said Grandma was at home. And then I said, "Grandma is at your house?" and he said she wasn't. Who knows with kids. I kept touching the little one's leg to make sure he wasn't getting too cold. The police were taking a long time. I wanted to stay outside with the boys, though, in case his family came around looking for them.

I was mad, though. I was prepared to ask them exactly what they were thinking, and to chronicle all of the dangers their boys had avoided, and the ones they would have run into had we not found them. Where were the police? By now the boys were playing in a little strip of grass. Christopher asked me something I couldn't understand. I answered with, "A nice policeman is going to come and help us find your mommy. He's going to help us get you home. "I don't want to go home" was all he said to me. I asked him why, and he said something about Sister at the doctor and ran off to play.

Joey tried to run back into the street several times.

My girls were in the van. They were perfect, waiting patiently. Every few minutes I'd go talk to them to make sure they were okay. I can't believe how patient they were.

A policeman finally came on a motorcycle. He asked the boys some questions but didn't get much more than I did. I told him everything I knew; he said I was welcome to go if I needed to, or if I stayed that would be fine. I wanted to stay and see what would happen to these sweet little guys.

Eventually a trooper car came. He didn't have any luck getting information from them. The boys told him they lived far, far away. He was getting ready to take them back to the station, but he didn't have carseats, so he had to call for someone to bring some.

Around 12:30, another neighborhood mom, Rachelle, pulled out of the neighborhood and over to where we were. By now the policeman had put the boys in his car to keep them warm. She asked if we'd seen two little boys and I told her yes. They weren't her boys, I know her boys. But she knew where they belonged.

She told me that another of my friends, Kim, who lived in a back corner of the neighborhood had been out looking for them. They are her next-door neighbors. The parents had taken their daughter to the doctor and left the little ones home with their Grandma, who was legally blind. The mom's name was Jamie, not Vicki. I told her we'd been there for an hour. She said Grandma had been walking around the neighborhood looking for them, but she can't see anything more than 20 feet ahead of her. In the meantime, the boys weren't even in the neighborhood anymore. So Rachelle was going to drive around and look, and Kim was out looking, too.

Then Kim pulled up. She talked to the police, told them she had carseats, and they loaded the boys in her van to go home. A policeman followed her to talk to the grandma. Rachelle stayed there and compared notes. Kim came back. She told me about the boys, and there had been trouble in the past, and they've been taken by CPS before. My heart fell.

I think of my sweet little girls. I'm not a perfect mom. I know kids escape, too; I've never had an escapee, though. But I had to wonder how long they'd been gone before it was noticed. I wondered why legally blind grandmother was watching them instead of one of the parents. I wondered why Christopher (whose name was actually Victor, I learned) didn't want to go home.

Hug your kids. Lock your doors. Teach them their address, phone numbers, at very least street name. He couldn't even tell me what color his house was.

Over a month?

2008-04-29T20:18:00.000-07:00

It seems everyone is letting their blogs lapse a bit. We've had some sunshine, so between that and this time of year just being *busy*, we're all out doing other things!

We spent most of April nursing one family member or other through a pretty nasty cold. I was the last to get it, and I'm finally feeling human the last couple of days.

We've been very busy moving around, rearranging, reorganizing, and simplifying any part of our house that we can. Other than normal Spring cleaning, we're getting ready for some extra members of our household. Matt's brother has been out of work for a few months, so they're coming to stay with us until he lands a job and they get back on their feet. We're excited, actually, because we haven't spent much time with this particular brother, so it will be a good chance to get to know them and their 3 kids! Our house isn't huge, so it will be tight. . . thus all of the business of trying to streamline things. Which hasn't been easy with sickness, and Matt's crazy busy work schedule.

Other than that, we're plugging along and learning to find joy in the small things. Today I got to go with Abby on her Kindergarten field trip, to the zoo and the Botanical Gardens in Boise. We stopped for a picnic in between at Quarry View park new the Gardens. It's a cool little park in a beautiful setting: just under some fantastic rock formations and trails in the foothills at the end of Warm Springs, which is my favorite street in Boise (someday if we win the lottery, maybe we can live there. . . if we start playing the lottery). There's a nice picnic area, basketball courts, tennis courts, and the playground gets a big thumbs-up from the squirtlings.

We're looking forward to summer; hopefully if gas stays under $4 a gallon (ick) we can go visit some family and those kinds of things.

Aren't they lovely?

2008-03-27T15:23:00.000-07:00

So I can't figure out how to flip them. . . sorry! Turn your head, I guess :p

Thanks for shooting them, Chelsea!

Where is everyone?

2008-03-26T09:14:00.000-07:00

Y'all need to update your blogs!

Today I'll show you a video that makes Matt and I laugh hysterically every time we watch it.

http://www.youtube.com/v/VCwSz1jwumU&NR/1

The case of the missing pacifiers.

2008-03-17T21:31:00.001-07:00

I wouldn't say that Alora is addicted to pacifiers. But she sleeps better when she has one, and she copes better with stressful situations or overtiring days when I pop one in her mouth.

Two nights ago, she was having a particularly tough time. It was late. She and Matt and I were all very tired. She wasn't settling down. And I couldn't find a single, solitary paci in the whole house.

Understand this: she has six of them. Six! Our house is lived-in, but decently clean; at least clean enough that we can generally find what we're looking for. There are a few places that we can usually find a paci in a pinch: under our bed for instance, or just under the skirt of the couch in the den. But this time, nothing. We took turns. We searched and searched. Left no toy unturned, and found nothing.

She got through that night, eventually. And last night. Not great, but okay. Today I was grocery shopping, and she started to fuss. We passed through the baby aisle, and I saw that lovely, colorful, gleaming display of nuks. "But self," I said, "this baby already has six pacifiers. Does she really need more? Surely the others will turn up. . ." And then my little redheaded Irish lass turned up the fussing, and I immediately grabbed and opened another package (boil? No. I stopped doing that when Abby was an infant, and they've all lived to tell the story). She immediately calmed down and slept through the rest of the shopping trip.

So we headed home, now owners of- count them- eight, size one, pastel, Nuk brand pacifiers.

Just a little while ago, she was acting sleepy. I went to find one of the new pacifiers. I found an empty package. I looked in all of the usual places. I looked in her carseat. Nothing! What black hole is taking all of the baby's pacifiers?!

Then genius struck. The older sisters were still awake. I went into their room and asked them if they had seen the baby's new pacifiers. Abby said no, Anna jumped up. I should note that Anna was suspiciously excited about the new ones; but she's really excited about a lot of things, so it was off my radar earlier in the day. But when she jumped, it came together. I asked Anna where they were. "The toy room!" She exclaimed in a joyous way that only Anna can. I asked her to show me.

She ran into the toy room with absolute purpose and direction. She lifted up one toy among many, and revealed not two, but FIVE pacifiers. Two pink, two white, and one of the new ones: green. Why were they there? Alora doesn't go in that room. Anna does have a funny habit of collecting like things together to play quiet little games that she never lets us in on. Apparently she's been playing something for the last two days. I guess she's done now.

But where are the other three . . . ?

SIX!

2008-03-11T09:46:00.000-07:00

Abby is six. It's hard to believe! Her birthday was last Friday. Matt had the day off (every other Friday is his day off) so we did chores, went to Costco, then came home and had a nice dinner of her choice. She wanted spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread.

Saturday she had 6 neighbor girls over (there are SO many kids in our neighborhood) for a princess party. They had fun. I only scheduled 1 1/2 hours for the party, but some of the parents stayed over 2 hours after that. It was fine, we like their company anyway, and we've been meaning to have them over.

Sunday brought a little bit of drama. I have a calling that means dealing with a really difficult person, and things came to a head. The bishop called me in (I felt like I was being called into the principal's office) and apologized for the stress. He didn't realize that I have more than one calling, and said with small kids one is enough, so he'd release me from the other. I've been wanting that for months, so it was a relief.

That evening we had the Seely's from our ward over. I love them! They're the kind of people that are just so easy to be around. Totally unpretentious, no expectations, relaxed and nice. We had a really nice dinner and hung out until bedtime. My mom and dad dropped by with a gift for Abby and some people might have been a little put-off or whatever, but the Seely's were fine and got to know my parents a little. We need to do more things with them.

Yesterday one of my dearest, dearest friends, Michelle, and her kids came over for the afternoon. Michelle was assigned as my VT when we first moved here. It was completely inspired. We were very fast friends. I really love her. I relate to her in a way that I don't with a lot of people. We always have the best talks and go away from our time together lightened and lifted. Did I mention that I love her? Allie and her little girl, Mikaela, are 10 days apart. It was so cute watching them touch each others' faces and coo at each other. Her 4-year-old, Deven, is a favorite of the other 2 girls and they all had a good time, too.

Today my friend Heirani is coming for lunch. She's from Tahiti, and ended up all the way over here in Idaho. She married a guy from Eagle that was in my stake growing up, and knows my sisters, but I don't remember him. His parents are friends with Kathy though, and Melody interviewed him for a job once. Small world. Heirani brings Tahitian sunshine with her, I swear. She is such a fun, loving, spiritual person. She's my VT now and I'm so glad that happened, because I'm so grateful to have her as a friend. Her little buy Brandon is Anna's age and loves to play with Anna.

I'm grateful to have so many good people in my life. I've been so focused on the ones that bring me grief and weigh me down. Last week I decided to focus more on the good, uplifting people around me, and man can I feel the difference!

Introspection

2008-03-05T11:31:00.000-08:00

How's that for a cringe-worthy word?

introspection
noun
the contemplation of your own thoughts and desires and conduct

I've realized that I'm in the same position I was almost exactly two years ago. The cast and characters have changed a bit, but the scenery and storyline are too close to the same. It was an ugly place then, and it's uglier now, because I clearly didn't learn what I needed to last time around, so here I am again.

It occurs to me that when one keeps coming across the same problems and issues, it's time for a good, honest look in the mirror. Introspection. Sometimes what you see isn't pretty, and sometimes it's more simple than you thought.

So here I am, back where I was then. What, or rather WHO, is the common denominator? ME.

Introspection.

The tricky thing is to look at onesself from a purely honest, accurate viewpoint. It's hard to be objective about your own issues! Writing things down helps me to process and follow through, so I'll write my thoughts on how to do that here.

Introspection is effective when it is:

*Without blame.

The point is not to look at what everyone else's part is in the situation, except maybe to learn from them. The point is seeing what my part is, and what I could have done differently, and what I can do from now on.

*Without guilt.

This is a tough one. Guilt and I are close friends. But guilt is not constructive, it's destructive, so there's no place for it.

*Without comparison.

Thinking that someone else might handle the problem better (or worse) is irrelevant. Someone else having more difficult (or easier) trials is only perception. Our strengths and weaknesses are unique to each of us.

*Without rose-colored glasses.

If we can't see things for what they are, we can't identify the patterns that we need to change.

*With optimism.

If we can't see things for what they are, we can't identify the patterns that we need to change. If we don't have hope that change can happen and that it can make a difference, the change won't happen, or won't last

*With forgiveness.

for ourselves, and others.

That's just some of the stuff that's been on my mind lately. More later. . .

In a slump

2008-02-25T11:33:00.000-08:00

Maybe it's the winter "blah's". Maybe it's cabin fever. I think that's probably part of it. But I've also been thinking a lot about my sister Melody's insights on her blog, in her "Closed for Restoration" posts. I let people into my life that bring with them a lot of drama and negative energy. I get caught up in it to the point that other people, who enrich my life and invigorate my spirit, don't have room. I want to change that. . . but without becoming closed-off or unavailable to those who need me. It's always been a really tough balance for me, which is why I attract those kinds of people, I think.

So instead of balancing things, I've kind of shut down, and now I find myself in a full-blown slump. I like something I read this morning:

"I remember hearing once a great analogy about the Dead Sea. I probably won't be able to put it quite so eloquantly as I heard it.... but the basics were that the Dead Sea is "dead" because it does not give,.... it only recieves. Because of that... all the salt comes in, etc. and remains and builds up, to the point that nothing living can reside there... no life... if there were water flowing out....and the sea were giving,.... , it would wash away the residue that resides, and life would be possible. It is the same in our lives. Lots of times when I feel in that slump.... I pray that doors will be opened so that I can make a difference in someone's life. Usually just little small ways,.... and its amazing.... a door ALWAYS does open, and yet often I feel that it has helped me just as much, sometimes more."

Serving and giving is important. I want to keep that. But not at the expense of my own well-being. Any thoughts?

What we're listening to

2008-02-02T14:56:00.000-08:00

Matt's current favorite album is "Big Beautiful Sky", by Venus Hum, found here: http://www.amazon.com/Big-Beautiful-Sky-Venus-Hum/dp/B00008QSCG/ref=pd_bbs_sr_2?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1201993063&sr=8-2 .

[rant] The music industry is broken. They're worried about how to micromanage the sale of mp3's and even the use of the CD's we buy. . . for instance, our van won't play certain kinds of CD's because of some stupid rule about not being able to play music THAT YOU OWN in multiple places. Instead they should be looking for all the really, really good music out there, instead of manufactured pop princesses and all of that business. Take Venus Hum, for instance, or Freezepop or Eva Cassidy for crying out loud. Why are we tortured with the likes of Kevin Federline and his ex, now that you mention it, or the latest mediocre winner of American Idol, when there is SO MUCH GOOD MUSIC out there fading into obscurity because some stupid executive doesn't think it's marketable enough? So props to pandora.com for helping us find some of these great, but buried artists, and filling in the gaps where public radio and the mainstream recording industry has failed miserably. [/rant]

Ahem. Excuse me.

Abigail and Anna are constantly listening to their Grandpa and Grandma CD. Matt's parents did the coolest thing for Christmas. They recorded themselves reading many of their favorite childrens' books and poems, like selections from Shel Silverstein's Where the Sidewalk Ends and A Light in the Attic, and Dr. Suess books, and many others great ones. Matt remembers when he was little, and his dad would sit out in the hallway outside of their bedrooms reading books to them. So it's really cool to me that the girls go to sleep many nights listening to their grandparents reading stories. It's Abby's favorite way to unwind during the day, too. She'll sometimes close herself up in her room and quietly play or draw while she listens (if you know Abby, you know how miraculous this is).

As for me, I've had an ongoing obsession with John Mayer's music. I'm no expert, just a piano teacher with a huge love of all things musical, but it's almost exhilerating to listen to the progression and growth of his writing and performing. The guy is a poet, no bones about it, as well as a dang good vocalist and he's becoming and absolutely amazing guitarist. I got the "Continuum" CD for my birthday, and I think I've about worn it out.

My favorite song off of that CD is "Stop This Train". It reminds me not to rush through this time in my life, even though I tend to do that. . . looking forward to and hoping for the next thing, when what I have now is so precious. I'll close this post out with the lyrics:

"Stop This Train"
by John Mayer
No I'm not color blind
I know the world is black and white

I try to keep an open mind
But I just can't sleep on this tonight

Stop this train
I want to get off
And go home again
I can't take the speed it's moving in
I know I can't
But honestly, won't someone stop this train?

Don't know how else to say it
I don't want to see my parents go
One generation's length away
From fighting life out on my own

Stop this train
I want to get off
And go home again
I can't take the speed it's moving in
I know I can't
But honestly, won't someone stop this train?

So scared of getting older
I'm only good at being young

So I play the numbers game
To find a way to say that life has just begun

Had a talk with my old man
Said "help me understand"
He said "turn sixty-eight,
"You'll renegotitate

"Don't stop this train
Don't for a minute change the place you're in
And don't think I couldn't ever understand
I tried my hand
John, honestly we'll never stop this train"

Once in a while, when it's good
It'll feel like it should
And they're all still around
And you're still safe and sound
And you don't miss a thing
Til you cry when you're driving away in the dark
Singing
Stop this train
I want to get off
And go home again
I can't take the speed it's moving in
I know I can't
Cause now I see I'll never stop this train

God be with you til we meet again.

2008-01-27T19:28:00.000-08:00

President Hinckley is likely having a wonderful reunion with his sweet wife and friends. I'm happy for him, but so sad for us. I never met him, but I have loved him so much.

Regression and Progression

2008-01-17T12:11:00.000-08:00

It's January 17. How are the New Year's resolutions coming?

I'm doing okay. The first 2 weeks of eating better went really well. This week hasn't been super. A lot of that was needing to grocery shop for several days. . . can't eat healthy food if you don't have it! I got that fixed yesterday, and after a little stumble backwards (chocolate cake really should not make up the bulk of a day's nutrition) I'm back on track today.

I get really frustrated sometimes by those periods of faltering. I want to be able to just resolve to do something, starting now, and just DO IT; but things don't work that way! Realistic goals based on moderation, followed by patience with the process of learning is what will work this time, I think.

I'm referring specifically to my healthfulness and weightloss efforts, but generally to my life. Take, for example, parenting. I have a pretty healthy temper, and a daughter that knows exactly where my buttons are, and how to push them. It's not good for either of us when I allow her to do that. Over and over I tell myself I'm not going to yell anymore. I'm not going to get mad. I'm going to look at her face and remember the sweet little baby I gave birth too, and all of our interactions from now on will be sunshine and kittens. But eventually, I'll snap, and I'll yell, and I'll feel bad, and that night I'll lie in bed beating the snot out of myself for being such a bad mom.

So what can change? Can I just be the mom I want to be, starting now, and never go back to that angry woman that I don't want to be? Not really. Change is work. It's a process. If changing just meant making a decision, our path to perfection would be a lot shorter, but our spiritual muscles would atrophy. So, like changing eating habits, I can make a plan. Do my best every day. And on the days I slip up, forgive myself, and try harder the next day.

Still, the slipups are so frustrating.

Alora is trying to learn to crawl. Bless her, she's trying so hard, in spite of having a bad cold and feeling rotten. She works, physically and mentally. You can see the determination on her chubby little face. She gears those muscles up and pushes hard with all the might she can muster. and then she moves backwards. It's so maddening to her. She's trying to get to one place, and ends up on the other side of the room. All I can do is sit and watch, knowing that she's getting stronger, and it's only a matter of time before the right muscles have the strength they need, AND she has the understanding and coordination to head in the direction she's aiming for.

Today I noticed that she started kind of crawling sideways. She was tickled with herself. It wasn't forward, but it wasn't backwards, either. She's getting there. I'll get there, too.

Time flies

2008-01-07T07:28:00.000-08:00

December was crazy. Our house is fixed for the most part. There is some finishing work to be done, but overall things are back to normal. December highlights:

Anna is 3! She wanted a rubber ducky birthday party, and only wanted her friend Deven. So we had a little party at home with the family, Deven, and Grandma and Grandpa Rummler stopped by. I was pretty proud of the cake I made her, which I can't find a picture of now. . . but imagine a mama duck and 3 baby ducks (which were candles- so cute!) in a bubble bath. Anna got some GeoTrax train stuff from Deven, which has started a love affair with trains. In fact we exchanged some of the Christmas presents we had hiding in the closet for more GeoTrax, and got some hand-me-down tracks from John and Becky. It's been lots of fun for all of us!

Grandma got married! It's never too late for companionship. She married But Hiatt On December 18. Grandma is 90 and Bud is 91. He writes and recites wonderful poetry. At the wedding he shared one he wrote a couple of years ago, that ending with something like, ". . . and meet a lady, willing and bold/Who doesn't think that 90's too old." Too cute. When they were trying to get up to say their vows, he said to Grandma, "You hold me up, and I'll hold you up." Good marriage advice whether you're 19 or 90, I think.

Christmas was fantastic. We had a crazy, chaotic, fun party at Melody's house. All 60-ish of us. Soup, white elephant gifts, kid craziness upstairs. . . it was a good time. I wonder if anyone will be brave enough to host this year! Christmas Day was so much fun. Abby and Anna were both SO excited. We had spent New Years' Eve at Matt's parents', decorating gingerbread houses, watching Elf, and eating an AMAZING turkey dinner that Mark made. They wanted to go right to bed when we got home (this is a miracle. . . nighttime at our house is, well, awful most of the time). Christmas morning was lots of fun. Matt's parents came over for brunch, then we spent the rest of the day with my mom and dad, Grandma and Bud, and Lynda's family. It was such a great day.

New we're at the start of a new year. I'm eating better and feeling better. I'm cutting out most sugar and white flour. This week I'm going to look at a gym membership. I'm determined to get healthier this year. Family history isn't great as far as health is concerned, and while I've never been thin, I've gradually acquired more poundage with each baby. So I hope to take some of that off and just get healthy and active. We want to take up hiking and biking again this Spring, hopefully take a couple of road trips to visit family and maybe make some fun stops along the way.

Health and happiness and a wonderful 2008 to you all!

Silver Linings

2007-12-10T11:56:00.000-08:00

Everything is dried up. I have 4 rooms where the floors are cut up and ruined. Hopefully that will be fixed by Christmas, but we're still warm and comfortable until then; just living with a little subfloor (funny, in my last house our dining room was only subfloor for at least the first 2-3 years that we lived there, and it didn't seem like such a big deal. Goes to show how our expectations paint things, doesn't it?). Good things can come out of bad/annoying/inconvenient things, though.

1. Our wonderful, beloved wood laminate that we were SO excited about when we were building isn't made anymore. Which means that we get to go pick a new style, hopefully something we'll like at least as well. The good? The original installers did a pretty crappy job, and the new guys will probably do it right. Also, there are new-fangled kinds out there that look even more "real", and we get a pretty good allowance from insurance.

2. A reminder that stuff is just stuff. I thought I'd be so sad to see the floors get sawed and pried and hacked away. But it really wasn't a big deal. My family is safe and healthy and warm, and no less so because our "stuff" has been damaged.

3. I'm not so stressed about keeping it mopped because, HEY, they're about to tear all of it up, anyway!

4. We can live with only one bathroom for awhile. Good to know.

It's raining, it's pouring

2007-12-04T07:22:00.001-08:00

Last Tuesday night I had a suddenly horrible sore throat. The next day I progressively died. It felt like it, anyway. I suffered through for a couple of days, and finally went to the doctor to confirm that I had strep throat. That was a firsttime experience for me, and a fun one at that.

By Friday afternoon the antibiotics were doing their job and my fever had broken, so I was feeling somewhat human again. Saturday I was even better. We needed food, badly, so off we went to Winco. When we got home at about 9:30pm, I opened the refrigerator to discover ice cream melted all over the place, and everything thawing out. The freezer wasn't working, and neither was the refrigerator! Of course. Yay. Matt looked behind the fridge and since we don't know anything about anything without a keyboard, he didn't find much except a bit of water.

So we made ourselves busy little bees and Matt carted the frozen stuff to his parents' across town to put in their chest freezer (we HAVE to get one) and we put everything else in coolers. Good thing it's cold outside, huh? We were done with that by about 11:30, and the refrigerator/freezer started again. Of course.

A little while later we headed to bed, and on a hunch Matt checked the bedroom carpet along the wall that our bedroom shares with the kitchen. TOTALLY SOPPING WET. Apparently there was more water than it looked like. The refrigerator had been leaking who knows how long, sending water who knows where. We were up til 5am using every towel in the house and every ounce of our energy to sop up what water we could.

Over Sunday we decided to call the insurance company, which I did Monday morning. They said to call disaster cleanup to come evaluate (PuroClean in Boise, by the way, has my recommendation. That is, until they come later this morning to rip up floors in 4 rooms of my house, but I'm getting ahead of myself). They came out right away. Apparently the wood laminate flooring that I love SO much compounded the problem, and it's holding water underneath it in the kitchen. The only way to dry it out is to take the flooring up, and according to their futuristic doohicky, it's wet along the long wall in the kitchen and about 3 feet out. Chances are they can't put it back together, even if none of the pieces are water damaged, which means that the whole 1/3 of my house that's in laminate will have to be replaced because they don't make the pattern we picked (and dearly love) when we built the house.

Not only that, but the laminate acted as a perfect plasticy channel for the water to ride along, right into the laundry room and master bathroom and under the vinyl (which we also love. We're weird about our flooring). Soaked underneath. Wet subfloor is not good. You guessed it, they have to peel it up, and it will have to be replaced.

As for the carpet in the bedroom, they should be able to just take up the corner of the carpet to dry everything out, and then put it back when it's dry.

So in about an hour, my floors will be destroyed and they'll leave fans to run continuously for 2-3 days. Fun times.

Oh, and the fridge stopped working again. Then started again. It only works if you turn it WAY up, then it freezes everything. It's probably 10 years old, and sealed in the back of course which apparently makes repairs more expensive.

Insurance deductible (no complaining here, I'd rather pay a few hundred than a few thousand to fix this mess) plus new refrigerator = my family crammed into a tiny sedan for that much longer, because there goes all the money we've been squirreling away toward a down-payment.

But through it all, I feel strangely grateful. Things could be SO much worse. We have great insurance. And thank goodness we've been able to put that bit of money back, because any other year in our marriage, this would have been totally catastrophic for us.

God is good.

Tonnes of pictures.

2007-11-26T12:49:00.000-08:00

Okay, I'm not really Canadian. But lots of cool things come out of Canada.

Here are lots of pictures I pulled off the camera yesterday. I don't have the mad photography skills of my sisters and nieces, or a super great camera- put my point and click does the job for now.

I would love to have her auburn hair. And new couches.

Abby's first day of Kindergarten

The Kitchen Table

2007-11-26T12:37:00.001-08:00

This table lived at my sister Lynda's house for probably 15 years before she passed it on to me. Her family is almost grown; mine is just getting started.

I spent a lot of time at Lynda's house growing up. It was a place of refuge, comfort, and understanding when my teenage life was in melodramatic turmoil. A lot of hours were spent at this table talking, laughing, crying, making things.

When she brought it to my house a few years ago, she apologized for the paint on the finish. She and Stephanie had done lots and lots of crafting there, and sometimes some paint was left behind. I'm happy that I got to share in some of that. Now there's even more paint from the projects I do with my own daughters.

The kitchen is the life of a home, I think, and the table is its heart. I think that might be why we're so often advised and counseled to share our meals together, sitting around the table as a family.

This year I decided to brave Thanksgiving dinner. I lost a week of sleep over it (I get myself so worked up!) When the day came around, I found myself doing something my mom has always done: I ventured outside to find whatever twigs and branches I could to use in a centerpiece. My friend brought some of her things, too, and created something beautiful. My mother-in-law brought the plates and goblets and cloth napkins that she's used on Thanksgiving for years and years. It was a beautiful setting. I wish I had taken a picture.

I have this funny habit of looking for metaphors and analogies in everything. As we put together traditions from my childhood, and my husband's, and some of my friend's, it was nice to see how well they all fit together. Life is kind of like that, I think.

I keep thinking about painting this table, or refinishing it. My inner sentimental sap doesn't really want to. We'll see.

Frog in the mud

2007-11-15T07:13:00.000-08:00

be"Years ago when I first received an appointment that resulted in my picture being in the newspapers, one of my high school teachers, evidently quite astonished, was heard to say, “That just proves that you can’t tell by looking at a frog how high he is going to jump!”

The image of that frog, sitting in the mud instead of jumping, illustrates how inadequate I have felt when facing the responsibilities that have come to me.

These feelings fix it so that thereafter one can never feel superior to anyone, not anyone." (Boyd K. Packer, "The Weak and the Simple of the Church, General Conference, October 2007)

For weeks I've been thinking about what I want to make my life. I'm happy with what I've accomplished. I enjoyed working when I was in that time. Now I have three really great little girls. I'm not a perfect mom, but I'm always trying to improve. I have an incredible romance and marriage with my sweetheart. I'm teaching piano, and learning more than I'm teaching, I think.

Those are all things I've done. But I've been thinking about who I'm supposed to be. Who Heavenly Father wants me to be. Now, of course we become by doing. . . but first we determine who we want to become, and set that goal in our hearts.

I went to bed last night with a very heavy heart. So many people I know and care about are struggling. For some reason, right now I'm feeling really aware of the heartaches and trials of the people around me, and they're weighing on me. I was feeling very small and helpless to change the hurt around me. As it is, I'm having a hard time keeping up with my own stuff.

My own stuff. . . we all have our issues, don't we? Those dark little corners in our hearts where we lick our wounds and revisit old pain. Who has the energy to deal with anything beyond our own issues? Maybe when I'm feeling healed and whole, then I can reach out and help. . .

But I remember years ago when I was having a really, really hard time in my life. I was very inwardly focused, centered in on my own heartache. My sweet mom told me several times, "Lose yourself in service." I kind of rolled my eyes (when she couldn't see me) and thought it was one of those mom catch phrases that mothers throw around when they don't know what else to say.

She was so right.

We are called upon to bear each others' burdens, mourn with those that mourn, comfort those that stand in need of comfort. I don't think that that is only for the benefit for the ones we're serving. There his healing in comforting others, growth in mourning together.

There is Becoming in bearing one anothers' burdens.

So last night when I read about that frog in the mud, I thought about myself. I could wallow in my own mud, thinking of how pointless it would be to try to jump out of it, focusing on all of the cold, sticky mess around me. Or I could do my best to find the most steady ground I can and see just how high I can jump. Keep trying, strengthen my muscles, and maybe as I leap forward, I'll find better ground under my feet. That doesn't happen if you just stay where you are, does it?

This morning, I'm going to see how high and how far I can leap.

2007-11-07T07:42:00.001-08:00

TAGGED! If you're reading this, you're tagged, too.

Yourself: happy, spacey, hopeful

Your partner: ambitious, tenacious, workaholic, funny, warm

Your hair: long-ish and blonde

Your mother: Amazing, angelic, generous, compassionate, selfless, musical, hardest worker I know

Your father: generous, musical, fun, gives great hugs, hardworking, unstoppable

Your favorite item: my wedding ring

Your dream last night: dreamed about seeing some old friends

Your favorite drink: when it's cold, Pero or hot chocolate. Otherwise, ice water

Your dream car: something with at least 6 seats would be nice!

Dream home: Something with a big daylight basement on a little bit of land with lots of big trees

The room you are in: TV room/den

Your fear: Losing someone I love

Where you want to be in 10 years: as long as my family is safe and happy and holding to the rod, I'll be happy

Who you hung out with last night: ....my family.

You're not: excited about cleaning the house today. Or patient.

One of your wish list items: A minivan, but I don't want a car payment again.

The last thing you did: Took my oldest daughter to the bus stop

You are wearing: jeans and a white tunic.

Your favorite weather: Fall!

Your favorite book: How Green Was My Valley by Richard Llewellyn

Last thing you ate: toast

Your life: content and sometimes a little chaotic

Your mood: mellow

Your best friend: my husband

What are you thinking about right now: thinking about what I'm thinking about right now

Your car: Saturn sedan

What are you doing at the moment: watching news and answering this stuff

Relationship status: very happily married

What is on your t.v: Matt Lauer

When is the last time you laughed: this morning when I was making up a wake-up song and dance and my oldest daughter shook her head at me and rolled her eyes a little. Success!

Christmas challenge

2007-11-07T07:15:00.000-08:00

Well we made it through Halloween, and I actually exercised a certain measure of self-control in the candy department. Too bad I didn't have as much self-control with the cookie dough Sunday night. I got a horrible case of food poisoning. It's not a myth! Cookie do CAN make you sick! Consider yourself informed.

I'd like to issue a challenge to anyone that might actually come across our obscure little space here. The holiday season is on the doorstep. Most of us, at least those of us with computers and internet access, are very blessed materially. There are those who aren't. When it starts to get cold outside, my thoughts turn to those without a warm place to go. My heart aches to think about having little children, and what if they were hungry or cold, and I couldn't do much about it? Even Christmastime. We haven't been rich but we have plenty, and the kids get a nice Christmas. I feel blessed that we can do that for them, especially knowing personally of at least a family or two who are wondering how to even get a tree, let alone things to put under it.

So my challenge is this: step outside of yourself this Season. Help at a rescue mission. Donate food to the Ronald McDonald House. Help a family that doesn't have as much (again, I know of at least one, if you'd like to help us help them out). Donate to the food bank, or give money to Salvation Army every time you pass a red bucket. Look for somewhere to help anywhere you can. Christmas is sweeter when it's centered on giving.

Something Jennifer wrote this morning to keep herself from the Snickers.

2007-10-26T10:58:00.000-07:00

Will Power

by Jennifer

From back in the pantry, behind the tomatoes,
Somewhere between the dried beans and alfredo
It's tempting me, begging me for some attention-
And soon I'm afraid I might need intervention!
We first got acquainted in aisle 5-B
I couldn't resist how it called out to me
Touting variety and quantity
What a deal! What a steal! So it came home with me.
I'd take it to church for the ward trunk-or-treat
Then save it for neighborhood children to eat
I started by saying I'd sample just one,
But when I broke the seal, it was over and done.

O, Hallowe'en Candy, my family's bane. . .
Next year we'll do it all over again.

***********************

Pace yourselves! ;)

Joining the Fray

2007-10-26T10:49:00.000-07:00

I tried this blogging thing a few years ago. It was painful. Moreso for readers than for the writer, I'm sure. We want a spot to keep our out-of-state families updated, though, so we decided on a family blog.

Hopefully we'll remember to post regularly, and share pictures of our cute-as-pie girls. Your price for that will be putting up with some corny jokes, occassional links, and whatever else we feel compelled to throw out into the dubyadubyadubya.