January 30, 2017

I read somewhere recently about a woman who was simplifying her life.  Ah, the lovely thought of simplifying.  It is great in theory, but life just isn't all that simple in a big family.  Anyway, in the story, this woman said that she was making changes and she proudly stated that she had already gotten rid of nineteen trash bags full of stuff.  She felt lighter already.

Somehow, that story came into my mind today, and I kept thinking over and over, "Nineteen bags...nineteen bags..."  Greg had helped out so much yesterday before church helping me get put together.  When you start church at 2:30 p.m., you have plenty of time to straighten up.  Plus, I was teaching yesterday in the combined Young Men/Young Women meeting and it was starting to stress me out a bit because I wasn't done preparing.  I had a little break down moment in the morning.  I had started the day in a good mood and made bacon, egg and cheese croissants for everyone.  Then I wrote out a schedule for the morning, trying to make it a productive, Sabbath-worthy day for our family.  The list included getting ready for church and working on Sunday-type activities.  Well, it only took a while for  me to realize that there was mutiny on my hands.  And it seemed that NO ONE liked my schedule.  And I wasn't getting any closer to having my lesson prepared.  So, I sort of freaked out a little.

I never seem to learn.  And I wish I were more patient and mature about the household duties.  I wish I would not get overwhelmed so easily.  I wish I didn't NEED everything to be clean all the time.  Because no matter how much I clean, it's never done.  And that is super discouraging.

Anyway, Greg banished me to my bathroom so that I could get ready for church and prepare my lesson.  And then he took control and put order to the chaos that was getting me down.  He helped so much that the Monday morning cleaning went very smoothly today.  And I just kept thinking all morning as I cleaned, "Nineteen Bags!"

After lunch, I pulled out a bunch of trash bags and decided to set a goal for our family to remove nineteen bags of junk this week.  Of course, we could donate it or throw stuff away or recycle, but it would be out of our house.  And I would keep praying that my feelings of being overwhelmed with life would start to dissipate.  Nineteen bags felt like a lofty, yet reachable, goal.

I decided to start in Lance's room since it was relatively junk free.  And his room is small.  I only had about an hour before the afternoon rush would begin.

Well, one hour later and SEVEN trash bags later, I walked out of Lance's room, having vacuumed the closet and under his crib and in all the corners.  It felt so good!!  I know seven trash bags seems like a whole lot of junk, but most of it is very good stuff.  I'm just ready to part with it: all of his clothes, from the drawers, that have grown too small, a whole box of baby clothes that was in the closet, a shelf full of baby blankets that he no longer needs, a whole set of old crib accessories (matching bumper, skirt, and sheets), nursing pillows and baby towels, stuffed animals, a front pack, and some little shoes.

His closet and drawers and whole room is superbly organized now.  And I feel a lot lighter.   I hope I can do it again tomorrow.  Maybe I should aim for seven bags every day!

Whenever I read about people living a minimalistic life, I sigh longingly.  And when I toured the visitor center in Independence, Missouri with Sunee and Mom while Mom and Dad were there on their mission, I was completely in love with the replica log cabin.  We sat inside and dreamt of reading the Bible to our families around the fire at night, and tucking everyone into bed in the same room.  No busy schedules, no distractions.  Lots of homemade pies and deep-pocketed aprons.   Lots of good books to read in the apple orchard.  Lots of love and family.  Oh, the simple life!  If only it were as simple as my quaint little notions!

Afternoon ice cream cones with my boys at the old fashioned Judd's.

I took the boys with me to drop off the girls at volleyball practice.  We had wanted to visit the Children's Museum, but it was closed, so we walked over to Judd's and got an ice cream cone.  It was the perfect way to spend an afternoon.

I'm not sure why I've been feeling so overwhelmed lately.  But the leisurely afternoon outside and my awesome morning of cleaning lifted my spirits so much!  I came home and made our favorite fajitas and Julia's Holy Guacamole. It was delicious.  We finished the night with a family night lesson by Miles, then showers, stories and off to bed.  It was a great day.

So, for now I will just keep getting rid of the extra stuff.  And keep reading the scriptures to my children at night.  And maybe even bake a few more pies.  That oughta make me feel a whole lot better.  Life is good.

This is what sixty degrees and sunny looks like after a colder-than-usaul winter!

Miles, you are awesome.  (He was SO thrilled to get some old fashioned Dad's Root Beer!)

January 29, 2017

A quick word about Lance.

He is starting to really dislike church.  The 2:30 p.m. start time is really cramping his style!  Greg and I have noticed that Lance is normally quite cranky and groggy in the afternoon once he wakes up from his nap.  But a few hours later, especially after dinner, he is such a happy, talkative, cheerful little guy.  He really gets going at about 8:30 at night.  And just about the time I am trying to get him ready for bed, he is in cuteness overload.  I don't know what the deal is.  All I know is that from 2:30 to 5:30, Lance isn't at his best.  And he doesn't want to be at church.  Ugh!

Lance has learned to say this cute phrase, "It's in the kitchen."  Except he says it all fast like it is one word: "itsinthekitchen." So whenever I say, "Where's your binkie?" He has lately been saying, "itsinthekitchen."  It is the cutest thing!!  There are quite a few questions that I ask him and he appropriately says it's in the kitchen.  But tonight while I was putting his pajamas on and playing with him on my bed, I said, "Lance, where's my nose?"  And he quickly said, "itsinthekitchen"...
We laughed and laughed at that one.

He's been super interested in little cars lately.  In fact, he's been chasing Owen around the house trying to get the one car that Owen is holding.  We have a huge basket of cars and they want the same one!  I usually make Owen give it up, but tonight I looked at Lance chasing Owen and screaming, and I decided that it is now time to learn a bit about sharing.  So Owen and I lined up a bunch of different cars for Lance to play with and eventually he gave up worrying about that one car.  And if you say, "Lance, what does a car say?"  He says, "Vroom, vroom!"  It's adorable.  As we were lining up cars, we started looking at all of our cars from the actual movie, Cars.  And that's when we thought that maybe he would like that show.  So Greg brought him and the other boys onto our bed and turned on Cars.  Lance had a huge smile on his face and he played with his cars while watching the whole movie.  After it was over and the other kids were asleep, Lance was sitting on my bathroom floor pushing the cars around while I brushed my teeth.  He was holding Lightning McQueen and Mr. The King.  I heard Lance's cute little voice saying, "Hurry, car, hurry.  The blue car is sad!"  My heart melted a little bit to hear him playing and pretending.  He's so cute and he's understanding so much more every day.

He's started to say things are scary.  The other day I put his in his carseat and then ran back into the house to grab something.  When I came back, he was kind of sad and saying, "It's scary."  I patted his hands and said, "No.  It's not scary.  Everything is ok." But he kept saying, "It's scary!"  So I asked him, "What is scary?" And he surprised me so much by saying, "Monsters."  That made me chuckle and hug him a little bit tighter.  How could he even understand that?

Lance completely has my heart.  And he has a bunch of other people wrapped around his finger too.  Yesterday in Cedar City, we had some time to kill before Julia's game so Emma was playing around in the little bits of snow with Owen and Lance.  They were having so much fun and we were taking pictures.  Then Lance tripped and fell on some rocks.  He started crying so hard!  So hard in fact that he did that thing where a baby is crying so hard that he holds his breath for a little bit.  Except Lance held his breath longer than I've ever had a child hold it.  It started freaking me out.  His face was in scream mode, but he would not take a breath!  I started to panic and rub him and say, "Lance, it's ok.  Lance, just breathe.  Lance! Lance!"  And then finally he sucked in a breath at the same moment he buried his head into my shoulder.  And then he fainted.  Boom.  He just went stock still.  It was just for a really brief second and then he opened his eyes and sat there calmly in my arms.  He was pale as a ghost for a little while, but otherwise fine.  How crazy is that?  I didn't like that experience at all.  We always say how much he looks like Emma, so she decided maybe he would be a fainter like her.  Oh boy.  I don't know if I can handle another fainter!

Well, it's bedtime again.  Lance is finally asleep.  And so is Greg.  Time for me to call it a night.

Owen and Lance and an itty, bitty amount of snow.  

January 28, 2017

It's 11:30 p.m. and I'm scared to go to bed.  Lately my back has been so bad in the night that it is hard to sleep.  I'm starting to dread sleeping.  But on the other hand, I LOVE sleeping.

All week Emma has been excitedly telling me how we are going to run up airport hill on Saturday.  I am so glad that she had fun running with me last week.  I am ecstatic about having a partner to run with.  So, I've been excited for this Saturday's run too.

But then, all week I've slacked off on my running.  I've been in a bit of a funk, I think.  And today was pretty full.  I kept telling her that I didn't think I could run six miles.  Maybe three.  But not six.  Luckily she was persistent.

I drove to Cedar City today for Julia's basketball game.  She plays against boys, which is a little crazy.  Anyway, today she played a really good team from Parowan.  Julia's team lost, but I was bursting with pride because Julia almost played the whole game.  She played her little heart out.  She was amazing!  I love seeing that kind of effort and aggressiveness.  Julia is getting so good and I love it!  But as Emma and I sat there on the bench, I was kind of wishing I could be out there running with Julia for an hour.  I miss sports so much sometimes.

Greg stayed back to coach Austin and to take Miles to his game.  Everyone did well and we met back at home for lunch.  Then while Greg took Emma out to practice some driving, I had a total freak out moment with the other kids.  All it takes is an overwhelmed mom and a fight about the Xbox and I go full throttle phsyco lady.  I could hear myself screaming for people to practice the piano and to get off their butts and start cleaning.  I didn't exactly sound like the me I want to be.  I eventually calmed myself down and we made it through piano practicing for three of the kids.  Then I forced everyone outside and I started cleaning with a vengeance the back patio by the basketball court.

When Greg and Emma got home, they found me throwing away a lot of junk.  They didn't know about the freak-out moment.  But they joined in and Greg completely cleaned up the garage.  I told Emma that if she'd clean the kitchen while I finished up outside, we could still go running.  By now, Austin had friends out there shooting hoops and Miles had his friend, Stu, over to play, and everyone was keeping very entertained.  And no fighting.

Pretty soon, I found myself jogging alongside Emma.  My music was playing in my ears and the sun was shining so brightly that the air didn't even feel cold.  I had decided that if I got too tired I would call Greg to come get me, but I would try to make it to airport hill.  But I had little hopes of running up to the top.

Emma really runs fast and I have to pick it up a lot to keep up with her.  And then she just tries to run faster.  But we had fun making it to the hill.  And boy, is it a hill!  We walked and ran to the top--almost a mile up.  The view was amazing.  And rewarding.  We snapped a few pictures and then pretty much floated down, because when I looked at my watch to check on our speed, it was faster that I ever run!  And when we got to the bottom, we just kept running.  It was glorious.

By the time we made it home, 5.5 miles later, we were tired but thrilled.  Running is my happy place. It is still so hard, especially trying to keep up with Emma the whole way.  And I had so many moments when I was tired and I wanted to quit, but I've learned, and I'm still learning, how to push through physical difficulties to enjoy to feeling of accomplishment and pride that comes from doing something hard.  I can do hard things!  And the runner's high feels great too.

Way to go, Emma.  Thanks for pushing me up that hill.  Thanks for running with your old mom. :)

My cute Emma--this is too easy!

I feel good!

We ran up here!  And we live down there!

5.5 miles!  We did it!

January 27, 2017

Elder Holland gave this encouraging thought for mothers: “You are doing better than you think you are.”

I’ve always loved that.

Well, this week I’ve decided that I’m actually doing worse than I think I am.  I woke up today and it just hit me how behind I am.  I’ve missed two days of journal writing.  I haven't gone running all week.  The pain in my back has gone absolutely bananas.  I found out Austin has been in trouble at school for talking too much and being too rambunctious.  I haven’t been able to get on top of the house cleaning.  I’m so out of groceries that the whole family is complaining.  Lance is so hard to get to sleep at night.  Greg has been sick. And I’m generally overwhelmed.  

I’m supposed to teach in the combined Young Men/Young Women lesson on Sunday.  We have a huge, busy Saturday tomorrow filled with lots of basketball games, and even one in Cedar City.  And here I sit in the second grade classroom, trying to make sure Austin is behaving himself.  Which he is, by the way.  

I visited his classroom yesterday and had a long talk with his teacher.  It hurt my mother heart to see his little desk bumped up right next to the teacher’s desk.  In the back of the room.  Facing away from the other kids.  In the end, as we talked, I realized that Austin is a seven-year-old boy.  And sometimes being in a classroom is hard for a seven-year-old boy.  His teacher keeps telling me how popular he is, and how much everyone likes him.  He’s so tall and so funny, and it’s hard to not get the class all riled up.  Especially when everyone wants to talk to you.  

When I first told Austin I would be spending the day at school with him, he was really embarrassed and he begged me not to come.  Somehow, I talked it up as a really fun idea and I finally convinced him to let me come.  Mostly I told him how we would work together to show his teacher how amazing he could be.  And we've done just that.  So, now that I've been here most of the day, I tried to tell him that I was going to head home to check on Lance who is home with Grandma.  Austin got tears in his eyes and covered his face with his hands.  He didn't want me to leave.  

I wanted to scoop up my little boy into my arms and hug him tight.  I wanted to take him home and homeschool him.  I wanted to stay in the second grade every day with him.  I didn't want to leave him behind.  I didn't want to see him sitting in the outer darkness of the second grade.  But life doesn't work that way.  So, I stayed until lunch, hugged him tight, helped him wipe a few tears, and then walked down the hall...alone.  

When I got home, feeling very overwhelmed, Mom was there to welcome me.  And even though she sounded like she had strep throat (which we later found out that she did indeed have strep!), she had done a bunch of laundry, cleaned the kitchen, straightened the whole house, and played with Lance.  I was so, so, so grateful.  I guess moms never stop worrying about their children.  

I decided that it's really difficult for me to let go of my children. (Surprise, surprise.) When I send them out the door, I lose control for awhile.  Most of the time I envision that things are going really well.  And sometimes they aren't!  That's why I said I'm doing worse than I think I am. And I've been feeling really overwhelmed lately overall. But when I told Greg that I was going to write about this topic, he told me in the most loving way, "You ARE doing better than you think you are."  

And then Greg took us all out for hamburgers and milkshakes after basketball practice so I wouldn't have to worry about dinner.  I'm so thankful for the amazing, supportive people I have in my life.  I couldn't do it without all the their love. With them, I can almost believe that I'm doing okay.  We are all going to be okay.  

At some point, I have to trust in God that my children will be okay.  That all the things I am doing will be enough.  That all the love I can give them will be enough.  That I'm doing better than I think I am.  

January 26, 2017

I had already seen the posters advertising the Region Drill Team Competition and thought how fun that would be, so when Emma asked me if we could go I was happy to make it happen.  The really cute part was how Emma wanted to invite Grandma Debi.  My girls have loved hearing Mom's stories about her days marching and dancing with the Bonneville High Lakettes.  Emma can't get over the thought of Grandma doing her kick splits!  To them, she's a legend.

Who doesn't love a mom who knows how to photo bomb?  She's the best.

Luckily, Mom was excited to come with us, and we had so much fun.  We stayed to the very end and watched as Desert Hills won the Region Championship.  That was really exciting, but the whole night was exciting.  We all couldn't believe how purely entertaining the drill teams were.  It was such a great night out.  I have absolutely loved having Mom and Dad down here in St. George.  When we pulled up to pick up Mom, she and Dad were walking home from their new home teaching appointment.  They were smiling and happy to be together.  And happy to see us.  It is such a joy for me to have them in my life.  I spent so many years missing them every day.  I have hugged and kissed Mom goodbye in so many airports, tears coursing down our faces.

But now, we are practically neighbors.  No more goodbyes.
And it's awesome.

January 25, 2017

Emma woke me up in the morning like usual.  But I was surprised when she told me that Julia had thrown up in the night.  I felt bad thinking that Julia had gone to school and basketball practice the day before.  We thought she was better.  Apparently not.  So we left her up in bed and went about with our morning.

I helped Emma finish getting ready and sent her out with a kiss.  Then I focused on the boys, getting them to school on time and hurrying back home.  I hustled around picking up the kitchen and family room.  Then Lance and I jumped in the shower to get ready for our lunch date with Sunee.  While I was getting ready, Mom called and asked to borrow something.  I told her I would drop it off on my way to meet Sunee.  Once we were all dressed and ready to go, Lance and I headed to the car and started on our way into town.  Halfway there, I felt my Apple watch buzz with a text message.  At quick glance, I could see it was from Julia.

Julia!!

I hadn't thought about her since Emma told me Julia was staying in bed!  I had completely forgotten she was home!  It was pretty funny when I called her.  I decided I was glad she hadn't come down and scared me to death while I was showering.

Lunch with Sunee was wonderful.  I miss our long, daily talks.  I know school has been stressful for her lately, but that's all I know.  I used to know every detail of her life!  We ate yummy sandwiches from Great Harvest -- I love bread!-- and talked as fast as we could.  All too soon, it was time to take her back to the school.  We decided we need to make that a more regular occurrence.  I'll be looking forward to it!

Lance and I came home to check on Julia. Thank goodness she is old enough to be alone since I clearly can't keep track of my children.  The very next day, I accidentally left Owen home.  Thankfully Greg was still home and he could call me and inform me that I FORGOT ONE OF MY CHILDREN.  Wow.  I hope we all survive this life!

January 24, 2016

After my night, I thought today would be rough.  But it ended up being such a beautiful day.  What a blessing.

I could not get Lance to sleep last night!  I had hustled and bustled around so much yesterday that before I knew it he had taken a four-hour nap.  Eek!  Greg was so tired and needed to be to work early today, so he went to sleep before me and Lance.  I thought I would follow shortly, but when it neared midnight, I had about had it!  I didn't want Lance to cry and wake up Greg, so I tried laying next to him quietly.  Lance stayed quiet himself, but he just kept rolling around or flopping his arms and legs or climbing on top of me.  By one a.m. I was exhausted when Lance finally settled down.  It was amazingly frustrating.  I sat there thinking, Do normal people have night's like this?  Or am I just a total freak?  I'll admit, I was pretty upset inside.

At around five a.m., Greg woke me up.  I was so bleary-eyed and sleepy that I barely understood what he was telling me.  It sounded like he was saying that Austin was out watching T.V. in the family room.  I rubbed my eyes and looked toward the hall.  Sure enough, I could see light coming down it.  "I'm too tired to go check," I told Greg as I flopped my head back down on my pillow.  But two seconds later, I felt myself climbing out of bed.  I seriously have night-time super powers.  I'm never truly too tired.  And my kids seem to take full advantage of that.

I tiptoed ever so quietly past Lance's room and out to the family room.  And to my great surprise, Austin AND Owen were sitting out on the couch watching a movie and eating snacks.  (Owen was eating Chex Mix which sounded so disgusting to me at five in the morning!)

"What is going on out here?" I quietly shouted, just enough so they could see I was upset, but not enough to wake anyone else.  This party was too big already.  Austin finally admitted that Owen had only come down a few minutes before, but that he had come down at three something.  THREE SOMETHING!?!?!  I was having a hard time staying quiet!  And by looking at the movie he was watching, which was almost over, I knew he wasn't kidding.

We've had a few problems with Austin coming down way too early in the morning, but this one takes the cake.  I stared at the boys and decided right there on the spot that I was going back to bed and leaving them there.  If I sent them back upstairs, chances are they would come right back down.  I just couldn't deal with it.  So back to bed I went.  And when I heard Greg get up early to go to work, I dreamt that he came over and kissed me goodbye.  He later confirmed that he didn't kiss me, but it was a sweet dream anyway.

By the time I was up and getting the boys ready for school, Austin could hardly keep his eyes open.  I sent him to bed with his school clothes on and he fell right asleep for an hour.  Then I got him up and took him late to school.  Hopefully he's learned a major lesson!  It still feels strange that my child could be up and about in the night and I would have no idea!

Well, needless to say, I felt cranky when I woke up.  But even though I could've killed for a nap, I made it through the busy day with flying colors.  Tonight was our Young Women New Beginnings.  I spent the morning at the church decorating with the other leaders.  We strung up the big lights Greg had recently bought from Costco.  They looked so pretty crisscrossing the top of the gym.  The new theme for 2017 is taken from James 1:5: If any of ye lack wisdom, let him ask of God...  So we decided to make our theme for the night, Find Your Own Sacred Grove.  We wanted the girls to find a place in their life and heart where they felt comfortable to pray to God and to ask when they need answers.  Going with the sacred grove theme, we brought in 12 huge live pine trees that Maren's landscaper husband picked up from the nursery for us.  We also had the most awesome fake campfire all lit up, camp chairs, a tent and a bunch of lanterns. It was so beautiful.  For our musical number, we had a guy in our ward come and play the guitar while two girls sang the new theme song around the campfire.  We had S'mores on a stick to dip in a chocolate fountain for refreshments.  The atmosphere and ambience were amazing, but even better was the spirit we all felt.  It really wasn't that difficult to decorate, but the way it highlighted the Young Women program for the incoming beehives and their parents was beautiful to behold.  Everyone seemed to really enjoy the special evening.

Here's Owen, warming himself by the campfire.  :)

I'm so thankful to be able to serve in the Young Women's organization.  I love the other leaders and the girls in my Mia Maid class.  I love my own beautiful daughters and the chance I have to share my testimony and to make things special for them.  Right now, I am totally exhausted.  And Lance is still bouncing off the walls.  But it's been a good day.  I know I am a daughter of my Heavenly Father, who loves me, and I love Him.

All ready for a beautiful evening!

January 23, 2017

I have this little saying that runs through my head occasionally.  If things are going poorly that day, I'll think, "I'm definitely not on my A game today."  It helps me take a deep breath and remember that I do have days when things go well, and it's all going to be okay.

Well, today I was on my A game.  I cleaned all morning.  Then I worked a few hours in the laundry room and listened to my scriptures and some conference talks for my lesson on Sunday. The kids had an early-out day from school so I helped the boys finish their piano practice and let them all have friends over to play in the afternoon.  I made Hawaiian Teriyaki Chicken for dinner and got all the dishes done.  I pulled off a pretty good family home evening and got everyone showered and into bed.  I read stories to Owen and Austin from the newest Children's Friend and sang a song about baptism.  And now here I sit reflecting on my day.  I'm so thankful for good A-game days!

Julia, on the other hand, wasn't having an A-game day today.  Last night just before bed, she threw up her dinner, and then nearly fainted in the night as she tried to get to the bathroom.  It was a rough twenty-four hours for her.  She spent the whole day on the couch watching movies.  Thankfully she is feeling better tonight, but she's been on my mind today.  Ever since Julia was a baby, I've called her my Julesie Girl.  I often shorten it to Jules, but my heart really loves my Julesie.  She is having a fabulous year.  She has grown so tall and beautiful.  And even though I often wish for my sweet little baby Julesie to be back in my arms, I am overjoyed with my grown-up Julesie too.

On Saturday, Julia's Raiders basketball team played against another boys team.  Her coach played her at point guard for a change.  She did so well and led her team to a victory.  At one point, she stole the ball and went for a layup, only to be chased down by two athletic boys.  They all landed in a heap under the basket.  My beautiful daughter gracefully untangled herself from the boys and stood up.  I had a thought flash into my mind: In a few years, these same boys will want to ask her on a date! I don't love that she plays against boys.  They are getting bigger and stronger and it will only be a matter of time before her team can no longer compete.  But for now, she takes it to them! Dating will come later.

Julia is also on a 15s SUVA Club Volleyball team.  She is the only player on the team who isn't in ninth grade.  She is the only player on the team who hasn't spent all season playing on the high school team.  And yet, she steps up and jump serves like a champ.  She hits and hustles and makes good passes.  She even got a block last weekend.  And as I sit on the side and watch her, she is the picture of grace and beauty.  My heart just swells with love for her.  She is turning into a woman before my eyes, constantly pushed up among girls much older than her.  I'm sad that she has grown up so fast. She was the last baby girl Heavenly Father saw fit to send me.  I'm so thankful that I loved every minute of that baby girl!  Too quickly she grew until we are now practically eye to eye.  At least she has beautiful eyes!

Even though she isn't little anymore, I still love to wrap my arms around her.  And I still love to call her my Julesie Girl.  What a gift my Father in Heaven sent to me when he sent me Julia!

January 22, 2017

Sunday!

It just felt like a glorious day today.  The rain came down all day, and the sky was gray and dreary.  But as I cleaned up and bathed boys and fixed hair, I just felt a buoyancy in my heart.  I was excited to make the meatballs I had been planning.  I was excited to have Sunee's family coming to dinner.  I was excited to take my beautiful family to church.

I kept thinking about the women who marched on Washington yesterday to protest our nation's new president, Donald Trump.  I guess they were marching for what they consider a lack of women's rights.  I really don't know or understand what some people are thinking these days.  But I've thought about how I feel.

I was blessed to be born into a family with a wonderful mother and a father.  I had a brother and sisters who loved me and contributed to my growing up experience.  I was taught to follow religious precepts and to believe in a God in Heaven.  Those teachings have afforded me incredible peace and comfort in all the experiences of my life.  As I have aligned my life with my religion, I have found all of my hopes and dreams for happiness in my life coming true.  I am trying every day to live a Christ-like life.  Because of that, I believe, I am surrounded by loving, supportive family and friends who are trying to do the same.  My husband is the only man I have ever known, and all of the children I have borne have been welcomed and wanted.  Every educational opportunity I have pursued has been available to me.  I have soared to the tops of the most difficult classes in a difficult university program.  I have experienced joy in many different sports and hobbies, and held many different jobs and been successful in each one.  I have always been treated with the upmost respect by almost everyone I meet.  I feel safe and confident as I go about my daily life.  I am loved and protected by a good man, who treats me as a valuable member of our family.  I am blessed to be able to live my life the way I want to live it, and to be able to experience so much happiness and joy every day.

I completely understand that there are many, many women who are not even coming close to experiencing life the way I am experiencing it.  But I do not feel that there is something fundamentally wrong with this country that is damaging to women in general.  What I wish, and what I hope is that this country in general could find God.  So many problems and heartaches and sorrows could be done away with if people would live life the way our Father in Heaven teaches.  We all have trials and problems, but I know with all of my heart, that peace and comfort and true lasting happiness comes from following our Savior and keeping the commandments.  I am so thankful to my Father in Heaven for putting me into a home where I would be taught how to live, and how to believe, and how to have faith, and what it means to be a daughter of God.

Greg and I went out last night.  We shared chips and salsa in a booth by the window in a new restaurant in town called The Green Iguana.  I salted away as we ate and talked.  We were dreaming about building our own gym--an idea we frequently revisit and then decide it's too crazy and put it to rest.  But we absolutely love dreaming and scheming and planning together.  After dinner, we went to Greg's office where he gave me the full dermatology treatment.  We did laser hair removal, botox, and he snipped off a few skin tags.  It was so fun and all rather painful, but we laughed and joked and enjoyed being together.  This is my prep work for our week in Hawaii. Of course, this is all totally unnecessary and silly, but when this is your hubby's profession, well then, why not?  I love not having to shave, and not having to deal with razor burn all the time.  And Greg says he loves having me as a patient!

I just want to document for the record how much Greg makes me feel loved and wanted.  He is a good, good man.  And he always, always wants to be with me.  His eyes light up when he sees me.  He constantly tells me how beautiful I am.  He chases me around the house trying to grab me and kiss me.  And when I kiss him back, he sighs the most contented sigh, like he has landed in heaven.  A few evenings ago, I was cutting his hair.  He leaned his head against me and told me how much he loves to have me cut his hair.  He says he loves the touch and attention while I work. It was really sweet.

 He then popped a crazy question

Greg: If there was one thing you could change about my physical looks, what would it be?
Me: Greg! I can't answer that.  That's ridiculous.
Greg: No, I'm serious.  Anything.  What would you want me to change?
Me, thinking for a minute: No.  I'm not answering that.  There's nothing.
Greg: Come on!
Me: Okay, you go first then.  What would you change about me?

And then I braced myself for what he would say.

Greg, thinking:  Okay.  You are right.  I can't think of anything I want you to change.
Me: See?  It doesn't feel nice to say anything, right?  And anything you could say is probably something I already wish I could change...
Greg: Oh! I just thought of what I would say!
Me, nervous: What?
Greg: I wish you shaved better.
Me, laughing: What??? That's it?  I can fix that in, like, one hour!  The things I would have said to you would have taken a whole lot longer than that!

(Both of us laughed a good while about that!)

And then I thought of my stretch marks and my flabby stomach and the parts of me that sag a bit more than they used to.  When I questioned him about all of that, he assured me that I was perfect.  Just in need of a shave.  Ha ha.  So the next day, I took this winter-weather body and shaved really well.  Then I made an appointment with my favorite dermatologist for a little laser hair removal.  And Voila!  I'm Greg's dream girl!  But I think I always was.  He makes me feel THAT good.  And I'm doing my best to let him know that he's my dream boy, too.

January 21, 2017

I ran five miles with Emma today!

Just before lunch, I convinced Emma to go on a three-mile run.  She was reluctant but decided to come with me.  She warned me that she might not be able to run that far.  I, however, wasn't worried. I knew she could do it.

As soon as we started running, Emma shot out like a racehorse ready to go.  I had to run my hardest to keep up with her, especially on the uphill section when we were running straight into the wind.  I stopped at the top of the hill to catch my breath, hoping I wouldn't have a heart attack!  At one point, two big dogs ran out to meet us.  We couldn't get them to turn back, and they were all too happy to go along with us.  I was so glad I wasn't alone.  When I was young, I was terrified of dogs.  I'm so happy that I'm not afraid anymore, but if I see a dog without its owner I get a teensy bit nervous.  Emma gave me confidence.  Since she was a little scared, I had to be the brave one.  These dogs were super friendly though and happy to be running in the wind.  Eventually the dogs got out ahead of us a little bit, so we doubled back and turned a corner, running pretty fast to get away.  We didn't see the dogs again.  So that solved that.

Another unusual thing that happened was that boys were waving at us. Or to be exact, boys were probably waving at Emma. Ha ha.

I could tell that Emma was doing just fine and even wanting to go faster.  So I picked up my pace as much as I could handle and stopped telling her how far we had run.  When we were almost back to the house, I told her we were going to run up to the corner of 2450 South and then back to our house. When she questioned me, thinking that surely we had run three miles by now, I told her we were almost at the five-mile mark.  She was flabbergasted.  She had no idea!

Emma--my awesome running partner!

As we turned onto our road, she sprinted out ahead of me and I found that I had a little bit of gas left in the tank too.  I sped up and made it to the driveway just as the voice in my earphones told me we had run five miles!  It felt so good and I was so very proud of us.  I don't think I could have done that as well without Emma.  I loved every minute running with her!  And she's super cute too!

Today has been such a happy day!

January 20, 2017 -- Part 2

Eleven years ago right now, I was lying on the operating table trying not to bleed to death.  I gave birth to Miles at 9:33 p.m. on January 20, 2006.  When they pulled him roughly from my stomach, the doctors and nurses all started gasping and shouting.  I was so worried something was wrong.  But they were just so amazed that he was such a big, broad-shouldered baby.  They thought he looked a couple months old, at least.  He was 10 pounds 2 ounces and completely filled out.  When I was able to wake up enough to open my eyes, I kept craning my neck to see my new baby.  Greg tried to hold him near my face.  I remember laying eyes on him for the first time.  I thought he was so beautiful!  He was my son.  I was so thankful to finally have him in my arms and out of my belly.  He had three long scratches across the top of his blond, little head.  But he was perfect!  And he was hungry.  Since I was practically unconscious, Greg was trying to satisfy him with his first pacifier.  

Today we celebrated Miles's eleventh birthday.  It was so much fun to surprise him with a stuffed owl on the doorstep holding his "Harry Potter" Hogwarts acceptance letter.  We are taking him to Universal Studios as soon as school gets out so he can see the new Harry Potter world.  Miles was so cute when he found out.  He pretended to faint right there on the entry rug.  We all laughed and laughed.

Miles named his owl Bernard!

Tonight when I sat on his bed to say goodnight, we smiled and talked about the surprise.  "Mom," he said, "I never thought you'd do something like that.  I'm so excited!"

"I'm so glad, Miles," I said, and I rubbed his arm.  "We love you more than you could ever know."  His lips started quivering and he got tears in his eyes as we tightly embraced. Oh, how I love that boy.  I love his tender heart.  I love his funny sense of humor.  I love the way he thinks and the smart things he says.  He is growing into such a handsome, accomplished young man. This morning as I listened to him practice his piano, I couldn't help but marvel at how well he plays.  And my heart swelled with love and pride.  Miles will always hold a special place in my heart.  It has taken a lot of mothering to get him to his eleventh birthday, and it took all I had to bring him safely into this world. But he is my firstborn son, and

I could not love him more.

Happy Birthday, my boy.

January 20, 2017

Man!  Emma makes a killer bruschetta on sour dough bread!  And apparently it has the power to heal hearts.  Forgiveness is a beautiful thing.

When the girls got home from school yesterday, I sat them down for a little talk.  I told them something I hope they always remember: if you aren't careful, love can grow into hate.  Then I said, If you don't believe me, just look at the millions of divorces out there.  We talked about giving each other a little more space by putting Emma into the guest room for a while.  It has a T.V., a big King-size bed, and its own bathroom.  But try as I might, I couldn't get the girls to agree.  They begged and begged to stay roommates.  With tears in their eyes, they told me how much they love to laugh and talk at night, how much fun they usually have together, how much they would miss each other if they were apart.  Earlier in the day, Emma had texted Julia.  They had both apologized and made a pact to get along better.  They had also texted me with heartfelt pleas of forgiveness.  So, we made a deal about letting them stay together.  We made a promise to love each other more.  Then, I gave them the task of fixing up some bruschetta for dinner--together.

They laughed and chopped and stirred, love filling the kitchen as they worked.  And when Greg got home, we filled his belly too.  With bruschetta and love.  It was such a good dinner.

When you only have one sister, you just HAVE to be best friends!

Then Greg rushed off to basketball with the boys and Julia, and I took Emma to Polynesian Dance.  A few hours later, everyone had showered and was tucked into bed.  Greg and I snuggled up together in our warm bed to watch a football documentary.  And I couldn't help but notice the difference a day makes.  My big fat motherhood failure didn't feel like much of a failure anymore.

Being in a family is full of ups and downs.  We fight and make up.  We struggle and try.  But at the end of the day, we love each other.  And we eat toasted sour dough bread with a scoop of bruschetta.  It doesn't get much better than that.

January 18, 2017

Wednesday.  We relaxed in the hot tub for the first time in months.  And I use the word relaxed rather loosely.  I'm not sure if it is relaxing to be constantly splashed in the face and jumped on, but the water was hot.  And that certainly felt good.  It was also so cold outside that the steam floating up off the water was incredibly dense.

Before we went out, the kids wondered if Lance would remember that he likes to go under the water and swim.  Greg said that Lance might be a little more cautious than in the summer.  Well, about two minutes after entering the hot tub, Lance remembered.  And all he wanted to do was jump from my arms into the middle of the hot tub and try to swim across.  He specifically wanted to go under the water, jumping head first and trying to duck his head down.  It was a wild, splashy experience.

I carried Lance back inside once we were properly soaked, and he said, "That was fun!"  If for no other reason than that, I'm so glad we went out.  And another good thing came of it.  I learned that my swimsuit is pretty worn out and saggy.  Time to order a new one before Hawaii in March!!

Me and my little swimmer!

January 19, 2017

I just stepped off the treadmill.  Another three miles on these old bones.  I recently came across the headline of an article titled, "Why You Should Learn to Love the Treadmill."  I smirked at that.  There is nothing in this world like running along outside, fresh air and sunshine galore.

But today as I "treaded" on that machine with the rain drizzling on the big windows next to me, I suddenly realized that I was enjoying myself.  Well, sort of.  I realized I was enjoying the feeling I was experiencing.  My muscles were flexing, my face was sweating, my heart was pounding, and I felt proud of myself for getting on that old treadmill today.  The treadmill has always been quite boring to me.  I've tried watching a movie, but I get too tired to concentrate.  I've tried reading, but I get motion sick trying to focus on the words as I bob up and down.  So I usually just listen to music and stare out the window.  To combat my boredom, I usually bump up the speed.  Kind of like, how fast can we get this done? Pretty soon I'm sprinting and sweating and about to pass out.  Yeah, it's a great workout.  But I get it done.

Here's Owen.  All the little kids love the treadmill...why shouldn't I?

All morning I've been having a deep conversation with myself.  It's something I do a lot.  It's one of the reasons I love mowing the lawn and vacuuming the floor--plenty of time to think to myself.  And even if it's strange, I've always been highly entertained by my own brain.  I write lessons and talks and stories in my mind long before I actually sit down to write them out.  I also analyze and think through relationships and parenting problems, counseling myself as I go.  That's what I've been up to this morning.

Emma and Julia got into a fight last night at bedtime.  Again.  Pretty soon Greg was involved, and then I was involved, and then the whole family was mad.  We've all tried to say sorry this morning, but the feelings in our home are still lingering.  I've been thinking about this for a while, but today I am going to move Emma into her own room.  You would think she would be happy about this, but she's not.  Julia doesn't want to be separated either.  Still, everybody needs some space.  And to me, this just feels like a big fat motherhood failure.

Oh well. Another day, another experience.  

January 17, 2017

We took the youth group to Cedar City to go ice skating.  I actually like ice skating, but there just weren't enough skates so I stood on the side of the outdoor rink.  It was dark and really cold.  I brought my new ski coat, the one with the zip-out inner lining.  I learned from the ski trip that it is actually the warmest coat on the planet.  In fact, I was sweating the entire trip.  I think I will include this coat in my packing should any natural disaster strike St. George.  One of my young women forgot to bring a coat, so I zipped out the lining and gave it to her.  It was really like a coat of its own.  She was really thankful as she skated around.  I was really cold as I stood on the side.  I didn't have warm shoes since I thought I would be wearing skates most of the night.  My toes weren't happy.

It reminded me of the time Greg and I went to a BYU football game with J.B. and Laura when it was around ten degrees outside.  The stadium was pretty much empty by the time they honored Lavell Edwards by renaming the stadium after him.  I remember thinking that he must be freezing too.  The four of us were sharing a blanket, huddled together on the icy bench.  And my strongest memory is of my aching toes.  Apparently my shoes weren't warm then, either.  We were the epitome of die-hard Cougar fans.

Kissing Greg while wearing the warmest coat on the planet.

I love J.B. and Laura.  I love the memories we share of living together in our little Starcrest apartment.  We were cold then too.  But it was like we hit the jackpot with Laura.  J.B., Greg and I would come home after a long day on campus, and Laura would have a delicious home-cooked meal ready on the table.  She did the cleaning and the grocery shopping, and we went on walks around the neighborhood when the evenings turned warmer.  She has never been anything but extremely good to me.  And J.B. ... I remember him standing at the edge of the kitchen, concern etched on his face as he watched me vomit into the kitchen sink.  Those early days of pregnancy were so hard for me.  So, even though Laura was pregnant herself, they slept on the floor and Greg and I slept in the bed.  I feel bad about that when I think back upon it.  It never felt crowded in that little apartment.  It felt full of love and friendship.

And so, my heart has been so heavy today after learning the devastating news that Laura's dad died suddenly on Monday.  I've cried for them.  But mixed up in the sadness and the shock is this rush of intense love.  Love for Laura and all that she has meant to me through the years.  Love for J.B. and the kids.  Even love for the Faveros.  Love for my Savior.  Love for my Heavenly Father and His beautiful plan that assures me that Families can be Together Forever.  And if heaven is anything like coming home to that little apartment, sitting down with some of my favorite people, and eating Laura's good cooking, then count me in.  They are family.  And I love them.

January 16, 2017

At 2 a.m. Emma started throwing up.  And then Lance woke up.  He was wide awake.  Every time I thought maybe I had Lance getting sleepy as we lay together in my bed, I would hear Emma start to throw up again.  He would hear it too.  Then Owen came down.  The three of us tried to lie quietly on my side of the bed together.  Eventually I was able to move Owen to the mat on the floor.  Then Emma started throwing up again.  And Lance wouldn't even think of letting me leave him behind to go help Emma.  So we'd go out to the family room to help.  Pretty soon Lance refused to leave the family room.  Emma was so miserable.  We tried watching movies and giving her sips of water.  And whenever I would think about how tired I was, Emma would throw up.  At 6 a.m. Emma and Lance both fell asleep.  I quietly turned off the television and carried Lance back to his crib.  It felt so good to crawl into my bed.  I was thankful that today is Martin Luther King Day and no school.  At 6:15 Greg's alarm went off.  He pushed snooze.  Ten minutes later, it went off again.  Ten minutes after that, Owen woke up for the day.  And Emma threw up again.

Who needs sleep?

As I drove down the road to Maverick to pick up some Sprite and Gatorade for Emma, I thought about my night.  Just yesterday when I got everyone to bed at a decent time I felt a glimmer of hope that for the first time in my motherhood life, I would start to see a full night's sleep consistently.  But maybe not yet.  Maybe I've got a few more years.  Maybe that's okay.

Good night, Diary, I am tired.

January 15, 2017

Today is another Sunday.  Mom stayed home with Lance, and we enjoyed a wonderful sacrament meeting, even though we had to sit clear in the back again.  We were even early!  Our ward is getting too big again.

We got to go to Austin's "It's Great to be Eight" meeting at the Stake Center this evening.  He was so excited to learn all about the time when he will be baptized.  Our ward had nineteen children there who will turn eight and be baptized in 2017.  Sitting a whole head taller than everyone else, Austin had a huge smile on his face as the meeting got started.

It's hard to believe he is turning eight next month, even if he looks like a ten year old.  I remember when he was just a small baby and we moved all the way across the country.  We took up residence in the casita of Sunee and Kyle's house for a brief while, then rented their home for a while, and then moved into our home.  That all happened within a few short months.  Through all of that, Austin was such a happy baby.  He always just seemed to roll with the punches.  One day Mom was bouncing him happily on her knee when she commented on what a good baby he was.  She said, "He must be the best baby in the whole United States!"  I always remembered that and I've told that to Austin many times, much to his endless delight.  Now we say, "Austin loves life, and life loves Austin!" It is so true.  What a happy boy he is!

It's hard to see my babies grow up, but there are so many joys around every corner.  And so I'm looking forward to his birthday and his baptism.

Today I read about a little four-year-old girl who died from a brain tumor.  It was heartbreaking to read the recent pleas of her parents asking for prayers for their daughter.  The mother kept asking God to allow her daughter to grow up, to see what she would become.  I think as mothers, we sometimes wish so badly that our children didn't have to grow up.  I think that all the time.  But in the end, I really want that more than anything.  I want to watch Austin grow up.  I want to be part of his beautiful life.  I want to see who he will become.  And I am thankful every day for the nearly eight years that he has been mine.  The last thing the little girl's mother posted today said something like this: My daughter gained her angel wings today.  And I have no words, except to thank God for letting me be her mama.

That's how it is.  My Father in Heaven has allowed me to be a mama.  For that, I am so eternally grateful.  So grateful.

To Austin: It IS great to be eight.  And I'm thankful for EVERY day.

January 14, 2017

January 13, 2017

Friday the thirteenth.  Interesting.

Life is interesting, you know?  I just got the email this morning letting me and a whole bunch of other parents know that the school board approved the boundary changes which means that next year we will be attending a different elementary school.  I knew it was coming.  I've known for a while, and expected it for even longer than that.  But still, the first time I drove down to Little Valley Elementary School after knowing the boundaries would most likely change, I felt sad.  And then I told myself that it wasn't that big of deal, and that I shouldn't be sad!

But I knew why I was feeling sadness.  I've been sending my kids to that school for almost eight years.  I drive there, and run past there, and go there for lots of school functions, almost daily.  I'm sure the new school will be wonderful too.  It's newer and almost as close.  But one of my absolute joys of our school days has always been watching my boys join the neighborhood boys on their bikes in the morning, full of laughter and excitement as they ride off, shouting their goodbyes to me as they turn down the trail.  I'm not sure they can ride to the new school.

When I first started sending my kids to Little Valley in the full heat of a St. George August, I was bothered to see them coming home so hot and exhausted.  I remember Julia's little face being fully red when I picked the girls up at the end of the day.  Little Valley was still pretty new and there was no shade anywhere on the playground.  I wouldn't make my worst enemy go play outside in the 110-degree heat in the middle of the day, let alone my own kids.  We hadn't played outside in the day for months, and suddenly the kids were going out to recess.  With no shade.

After driving around and noticing that most of the other schools had large shade structures, I made an appointment with the principal.  I discussed my ideas for fundraising and working to get a shade structure over the playground in the back of the school.  He wasn't at all keen on the idea, but he vaguely said he'd think it over, and he sent me on my way.

The heat of August soon gave way and life got busy for me.  As the years went by, I had pregnancies and babies to think about.  We built a new house and moved a few streets over.  Greg was in the Bishopric; I was in the Relief Society Presidency.  The shade situation at the elementary school continued to occasionally nag at me, but it was always on the back burner.  Until one new school year when I saw the announcement of the new PTA president, an acquaintance of mine, and a call for anyone interested to come to the first meeting of the year.  So I went.

That started us down a path that would take a few years to complete.  But after huge fundraising efforts on the part of the PTA, and lots of support from the parents, I wrote a grant application to the American Academy of Dermatology.  Greg and I had put in huge efforts to qualify for the grant.  Greg had even presented super fun assemblies at the school to talk about sun safety.  We had donated a lot of our own money to try to come up with the PTA portion of the cost.

After waiting for a few months, I was ecstatic the day we got word that the AAD was awarding us the full $8,000 grant!  I presented the news at the next PTA meeting.  Over the summer, a beautiful new shade structure was installed over the entire playground area.  One quiet summer day before school started, I drove to the school to see it.  I stood alone on the empty blacktop, smiling to myself and  admiring the shade.  I had made a difference.  It was an enormously satisfying feeling.

We held a ribbon-cutting ceremony during the Back-to-School open house.  Greg, the principal, and the PTA President joined together to snip the red ribbon that I had purchased and tied earlier in the day.  I stood to the side and smiled. My job was done. The newspaper ran a great article about it all, extensively quoting Greg.  It was so much fun.  There were pictures of the school children happily playing in the shade on the first day of school.

My only regret was that it had taken longer to get a shade structure than I had ever dreamed it would take when I first set foot in the principal's office all those years ago.  But, I told myself, my children would enjoy it for many years to come.  Thousands of children would enjoy it.

And now, we are shifting like the winds of change.  To a different school.  After the very first year with the new shade structure.

Life is interesting that way.

January 12, 2017

I’m sitting in the car in the rain.  It’s dark outside, and I’m waiting for Emma at her Polynesian Dance class.  All of this rain seems unusual for St. George, but I suppose with the record amounts of snow falling everywhere else, rain is what we get.  

This afternoon, I put Owen and Lance into the jogging stroller and pushed them around the neighborhood.  We stopped to see the muddy cows across the street from the church.  The boys were delighted, but try as I might, I couldn't get those suspicious cows to come near the fence.  Just as we jogged off, the cows gathered right up to the fence to watch us go.  

It was so much harder to push them than I thought it would be.  I was so winded by the time I pushed the stroller the last little bit up the trail that I had to stop and walk.  I hadn’t quite hit two miles, but the whole last half was a steady uphill on Coyote Springs Drive.  That had to be good enough for today.  

Yesterday Greg sent me a cute little text-message plea: Could we please try to improve our love life? Pretty please?

I always thought I would be the perfect wife and mother.  After all, I had an above-average level of cheeriness, and thanks to my athletic inclination, an abundance of energy.  Cheeriness and energy, as everyone knows, are the two pillars of perfect-wife-and-motherhood.  Now all I needed to do, I thought as I set out for BYU, was locate a fun-loving guy willing to join forces with me, and ta-da!, we would live the perfectly perfect happily ever after I’d always envisioned myself living.  

I finally located that guy on a basketball court, of all places.  His athletic inclination was even grander than my own, which, in my opinion, was like icing on the wedding cake—our wedding cake.  Oh, he was fun-loving alright.  We did all sorts of things together, like spelunking in deep, dark caves, bowling at midnight, and scandalously making out in his apartment complex parking garage (oh, not that scandalously!).  Things were rolling along as nicely as a bowling ball between us until one evening I popped up hopefully at his apartment and he was feeling a little tired.  Gasp!  He mustered up enough energy to take me dinner at T.G.I.Friday’s, but as we sat at our dimly-lit table, I noticed that he wasn’t really in the mood to chit-chat.  My heart sank a little at this obvious red flag between us.  If we were truly in love, wouldn’t we have endless conversation until the sun rose in the morning?  After a quick assessment on my part, I realized he wasn’t anything other than happy to be with me, he was just tired and hoping to eat in silent peace.  Perhaps all of the spelunking and bowling and making out at midnight had sapped his energy.  

That night, I did some deep thinking.  Was he fun-loving?  Yes.  Was he every thing I had so carefully listed on my things-to-look-for-in-a-husband list?  So far, yes!  But just in case, I prayed.  And I worried.  And I hatched a plan, and immediately set it into motion.  I had always been told that you could tell what sort of missionary a young man had been by the way he talked about his mission.  So, I set out to engage in meaningful conversation about what must have been a fabulous missionary experience in Madrid, Spain.  Except I had no idea what it was like to be a missionary in Madrid, Spain.  Where everyone is Catholic.  Where there are very few members.  Where it can get a little discouraging at times.  

I quickly noticed that my fun-loving guy wasn’t gushing forth with conversion stories.  Hmmm.  But he seemed to have really loved Spain—at least all the castles and cathedrals, and the food.  I felt a little off-kilter after that.  Things weren’t quite going the way I’d always planned.  

I decided to try one last sure-fire way to come to know his true character.  One night, just before he dropped me off, I suggested that we share our testimonies with one another, at least some of our deep, heart-felt feelings.  His sideways glance at me said it all.  But I will never again doubt his love for me, because against all his better inclinations, right there in the Deseret Towers parking lot, he shared his testimony.  I realized that I had put him completely on the spot.  And I tried to forgive him if he lacked a little religious luster.  I cheerfully shared mine.  And breathed a sigh of relief that we made it past that oft-advised necessary step for a courting couple.  Amazingly, he kept dating me--quirks and all.  In fact, he asked me to marry him.  

The rest is history.  

And now nearly eighteen years later, I’m questioning both my cheeriness and my abundance of energy!

All those years ago, when I decided that I would be the perfect wife, I didn’t factor in ANYTHING that resembles our real life.  I never could have imagined that my husband would text me and ask us to focus more on our marriage.  And that I would feel tired.

So, today, I’m dreaming of the romantic weekend we spent at The Alisal Ranch.  And I’m looking forward with so much hope to our week in Hawaii in March.  And I’m going to love my husband the best I can until then.  

I love that Greg still loves me.  And, oh, how I love him.  Even if we are a little more on the tired side of things.  My marriage is that important to me.  

By the way, I texted him back with a resounding: YES!  Exactly what I said when he asked me to be his wife.  And the rest is history.

January 11, 2017

Wednesday.  Today I went to the cannery.  The whole place has been converted into a store where you can buy all the dry goods you want, already in cans.  I purchased three cases of sugar, two cases of rice, and a case of potato pearls.  As I stepped into the well-lit, cheerful cannery, I couldn't help but remember the time years ago when Sunee, Stalee and I canned together.  That was the day when the workers told us how much we could plan on canning, and we canned so quickly that we almost doubled the normal canning-per-hour quota!  There were bits of flour and dry milk floating in the air and dusting our faces, but we had those machines in a constant whir of action.  We laughed and talked as we worked, happy to be together.  We canned flour, sugar, dry milk, rice, oats, and tons of wheat.  I was so excited to get started with my new red Kitchen-Aid and my Bosch wheat grinder.  We were going to be home-made-bread makers.  And there were a few glorious times when we actually got together to grind our wheat and mix our bread dough while the little ones played.

Now that I'm traveling down this memory lane, I'd like to keep going.  The three of us would meet at the river trail almost daily.  We would push strollers and run or walk in the sunshine.  Sometimes Stalee would meet me in the early morning dark, and we would train for an upcoming race.  When it got closer to summer, we sat down with our calendars and scheduled days at the pool or the park.  We joined forces for preschool and playdates.  We saw each other so often that it seemed it would never change.  I want to say that I didn't know how good I had it, but I did! I loved being so close to two of my sisters.

And then one heartbreaking day, Stalee and her family left St. George.  Sunee and I made our way without her--running, walking, swimming every day in the summer.  I missed Stalee living in Sunee's basement and being my daily friend, but I was also thankful to know that Stalee was in a better situation, in a beautiful house in Hooper, eventually.

And then one heartbreaking day, for me, Sunee started working full time.  I've made my way without her--running or walking the river trail alone, and deciding that maybe I'm too busy for new friends anyway, and watching the weeks pass without seeing my sisters.  I've missed Sunee, but I'm also thankful to know that she is in a better situation and doing so much good at Dixie High School.

So, this time, I walked into the cannery alone.  I carried little Lance on my hip, and smiled softly to myself when I noticed that the canning machines were gone.  I could almost hear the wisps of laughter floating up among the particles of flour and dry milk.  I paused and enjoyed the warm memory.  Then I loaded the cases into my car and wondered to myself if I should start making bread again.

January 10, 2017

It's simply been wet and dreary lately.  And for the second day in a row, Lance didn't fall asleep during nap time.  But he DID fall asleep during the chess tournament that Miles organized for his scout activity.  I was busily arranging boys around chess boards when I looked over to see Lance, sitting straight up, mouth wide open, sound asleep at 4:30 in the afternoon.

Weeks before Christmas, Greg sequestered himself to the back of the garage every evening so that he could build the chess board of all chess boards.  It is the most beautiful game board imaginable, with alternating dark and light wood creating the squares.  Greg sanded and edged and lacquered that thing to perfection.  At three feet by three feet, the extra-large chess pieces we found on clearance in the summer fit perfectly.  I love seeing it all set up.  I love seeing the pride in Greg's eyes as he sees the fruits of his labor.  I love seeing everyone gathered around it, strategizing the next move.  We've been chess obsessed around here lately.

So when it came time for Miles to plan a scout activity for one of his requirements, we naturally thought of chess.  Miles spent a few hours typing up the instructions for all of the players, and we put together a tournament bracket to hang on the wall.  Miles practically flew in the door after piano lessons to start his activity.  I was so proud of him.  He read his instructions, which were so well thought out and humorous too, and started everyone playing the game.  We assigned each person in our family to monitor the different games so that we could assist if anyone got confused on the rules (most of the boys needed a little help and some had no previous chess experience).  Even Owen, at five years old, was completely able to monitor a game.  When I walked near him, Owen whispered into my ear some of the moves that he thought the boys could make.  It was hard for him not to point out opportunities to the boys!

Owen is one good chess player.  The other day, as a chess game between Austin and Owen ended, Owen burst into angry tears.  I gathered him up and tried to calm down his fury at losing before he landed his fists on Austin's back.  After we talked for a while, I thought to ask him if he had ever won a chess game.  He flopped back, throwing his arms into the air, and wailed, "NOOOooooo!"  That surprised me.  He had played over and over since Christmas!  I suddenly understood something--of all the boys, Owen will probably become the best chess player of the bunch.  It takes a lot of determination (and a lot of angry fury) to lose a game and then try again, over and over and over again.  So, I assigned Julia to play Owen next.  And it sounded like pure glee when I heard Owen's little voice shout, "Check Mate!"  Thank you, Julia, for your superb peace-making qualities.

Since then, Greg has challenged Owen a few times.  Even though Greg refuses to go easy on the big boys, and consequently wins every time, I watched as Owen finally beat him.  We then showed Owen a bit about good sportsmanship as Greg shook his hand and said, "good game."  At least Owen knows what it feels like to win and lose.

Well, I'd better wrap this up.  As if on cue, Owen just walked over and asked me to play him in a game of chess.  Last time I played him, I honestly lost.  The other kids were a bit incredulous.  I defended myself by explaining that I hadn't been concentrating very hard, which was true!  Sounds like we are in for a rematch.

Oh, and by the way, Miles made it to the championship round of his tournament.  We ran out of time to see how it would play out, but his smile said it all.  Because it was a winning one for sure.  

What a happy day.