BEST cooking magazine.
Not the BEST doughnuts ever, but still yummy!
A childhood favorite made tonight is sausage bread. In looking for pictures online so I didn’t have to take it back out of the fridge to snap a photo, I came across this beauty…
Gag. Cough. Ew. Jason has dubbed it Bobbitt bread. Ha ha.
Below is how it is supposed to look…
Our Father in Heaven has given us, His children, much more than any mortal mind can comprehend. Under His direction the Great Jehovah created this wondrous world we live in. God the Father watches over us, fills our hearts with breathtaking joy, brightens our darkest hours with blessed peace, distills upon our minds precious truths, shepherds us through times of distress, rejoices when we rejoice, and answers our righteous petitions."
Dieter F. Uchtdorf, "The Love of God," Ensign, Nov. 2009, 22
I struggle with consistency in all departments. Discipline, eating habits, exercise, daily scripture and prayer. It always seems as though I wait until I become depleted and desperate that I have a desire to put these things back into working action. Each time that I do, specifically speaking of scripture study and prayer, I see and feel significant change and blessings as though they are poured and sometimes dumped onto me and my family. Today is no exception. My most recent beautiful blessing came in the form of a prayer by a 7 year old. Asking that his mom have strength, and his siblings with health. Seems pretty basic right? That’s part of the blessing. That I get to become aware of the small beautiful things I have been given. An outpour of blessings doesn’t mean circumstances will change or you will be handed a free pass. Mostly, it is strength to overcome, to have gratitude and enjoy what you do have.
Driving to school we pass many horses. The boys are chattering in the backseat and then I hear a burst of laughter. Jayce is laughing and doubling over. Through gasps of air he says,
“That horse totally farted! I saw it’s tail go flying outward from it!”
David, without laughter, says calmly, “Jayce, Horses just swish their tails. It wasn’t a toot.”
Mile 1 Adrenaline
Mile 2 Exhilaration
Mile 3 Setting a pace
Mile 4 Getting winded
Mile 5 Reality sets in
Mile 6 Float on through
Mile 7 Kill
Mile 8 me
Mile 9 now
Mile 10 I cried
Mile 11 Anger and frustration
Mile 12 My family found me on the course! A renewed determination.
Mile 13 The finish line. Collapse.
I finished my first 1/2 marathon this weekend. I wasn’t going to. I got that anxiety in my chest the day before telling me I had no choice. I hadn’t trained in weeks. I knew I wasn’t ready. But I made it. 2 hours 23 minutes. I had nothing left. It was awful and I am so grateful I did it. And you better believe I am doing again, but I will do it prepared.
For those of you who know me well enough, it won’t surprise you that this post finds me in trouble because of my all too stubborn and strong willed spirit.
Fortunate or unfortunately (depending on the circumstance) my oldest child has echoed my willfulness. Tonight it came to a head. He lost his temper during a video game, and I responded by taking it away for the evening. His tantrum grew, until he was then grounded for the following day. It was then the battle ensued.
His little hands began to make things fly from the countertops to the floor. It had happened before. Things had been broken. My will began to bubble. And it bubbled over right into his room, where I proceeded to take objects from his shelf and made them fly. (Softly, just enough to teach a lesson) but in the chaos, a much treasured little ceramic heart, just acquired from his Grammy not a week before, hit a bit too hard and broke.
He was rightfully angry, and retaliated in a chaotic vengeful way. Books flew from the bookshelves. I knew I had crossed a line. I quickly found the super glue and tried desperately to glue the broken pieces together. There were a few splinters missing. But it was mended. He came in and seeing it glued back together turned and looked up at me.
I learned one of the most powerful, regretted lessons in that moment when I said to my son, “I'm sorry I broke your heart.” Nothing more was said, and all was forgiven. I knew in that moment that it was mended, but splinters were missing.
THIS is why I can never move. Because I have friends like these who leave beautiful sunshiny flowers on my porch when I have a tough week.
Thank you!!!
"I come to you tonight with a plea that we stop seeking out the storms and enjoy more fully the sunlight. I am suggesting that as we go through life we try to 'accentuate the positive.' I am asking that we look a little deeper for the good, that we still our voices of insult and sarcasm, that we more generously compliment virtue and effort. Now I am not asking that all criticism be silenced. Growth comes of correction. Strength comes of repentance. Wise is the man or woman who can acknowledge mistakes pointed out by others and change his or her course. "What I am suggesting is that you turn from the negativism that so permeates our modern society and look for the remarkable good among those with whom you associate, that we speak of one another's virtues more than we speak of one another's faults, that optimism replace pessimism, that our faith exceed our fears. When I was a young man and was prone to speak critically, my wise father would say: 'Cynics do not contribute. Skeptics do not create. Doubters do not achieve.' " – Gordon B Hinckley
I’m sure they wondered where their mom went. Or rather more importantly, who this monster was who has shaken up the day.
Today was mom-has-lost-it-better-run-while-you-can day. It’s been a while since she has reared her ugly little head. I assume my poor children had gotten used to her absence since they all were crying when she blew her top. Oh, I wasn’t even making sense! I was yelling and going off on tangents that, as they spewed from my mouth I was inwardly shaking my head thinking how ridiculous I was being. But I couldn’t stop the train. I imagine it got started rolling long ago plugging along, until it got going way to fast as it sometimes does.
So, this evening I will clean up my wreck and get back on track. To my children: So sorry my little loves. Sorry you had to be in the wreckage. Love you.
I know going without TV isn’t really in the category of sacrifice, but I still miss it.
It was rounding the middle of the night when I saw my husband swoosh past me pulling cords out of TV's and electronics as he went by. I was practicing playing Mario cart without the distraction of my child kicking my butt, and mentioning how much I suck at the game. My competitive nature needed to be able to beat that snotty little 7 year old.
He came through yanking at near all connections to modern technology, mumbling loudly at how much of a distraction- bad prioritizing- waste of time it was and that we needed to take break. All of my inner connections were screaming no! Gasp. But… my TiVo. But… my shows. But… my sanity. But… my babysitter. But… once I came to my senses I had to agree. We as a family spent way too much time in front of mindless entertainment.
It’s been a few weeks and I still have the urge to just plop down and stare, but we have definitely gotten more done around here, you know, priorities straightening out and all. Try it, you might surprise yourself.
(we did plug the wii back in the next week, my sanity can only handle so much)
You know when you work for something, blood sweat and tears (ok, not quite) and you sacrifice to get it? Say… an 8 year old does chores for a whole month to earn a new baseball glove. How will he feel about that glove? How will he treat it? As opposed to if your walking along in a store and just hand him a new glove and he says, hey thanks. That glove in the 2nd scenario is going to end up left outside in the rain and ruined. While the very same glove that was earned and worked for will be cherished and possible handed down to his son.
Now slide life in to replace the baseball glove. Marriage. Children. A home. A church calling. A degree. If any of these things came as easily as we sometimes pray they will, would we value them as highly?
I have learned this week to be grateful for my hard blessings. They are for my good and my growth.
My sweet little sister made me a wishing star box as part of my (very creative) Christmas present this year. I used it. It works! Let me start way back nine years ago when my gift receiving shanagins began.
Jason as sweet as he is, is scarily far from being a romantic. Over the years, I have heard such things on Mother’s Day as “Oh. well. I didn’t know what to get so I just didn't get anything.” Or on my birthday… “Sooo, you should go pick something out for your birthday.” Oh he has made progress over the years, take this last Christmas for example. He sauntered into the kitchen on Christmas Day (mind you, I reminded him several times in the weeks following that we had a $20 budget for one another) he put his arms around me sweetly from behind, and whispered in my ear, “Your present is in the office.” I spun around with delight plastered squarely on my face. Could it be? Then he continued his sentence… “It’s pulled up on the computer screen. It’ll be here in a couple of weeks.” Really? REALLY? Being that he bought me pearls helped the sting of forgetting to get me something until Christmas Day. So, like I said. Improvement.
Back to my wishing star. It’s a little yellow box shaped like a star and it is filled with teeny tiny slips of paper. I stuck a wish in it last week, and it materialized right on my desk! The man checked the wishing star! How many leaps and bounds does that count for? A LOT in my book!
P.S.- Love BBW’s new ‘p.s. I love you’ collection…
We’ve all been there. Behind that annoying person in front of you ordering food who can’t seem to get his order out because the guy on the other end of the phone convo says something funny. Or the girl who is your cashier who you know isn’t supposed to be chattering away at work, scans all of your purchases, hands you your change, and you head out the door without so much as a word? Today I had one such interaction, at church of all places. Sitting in Gospel Doctrine class and the lady in the back row is taking a phone call! She had cupped the phone and was doing her very best (ha!) to speak in muted tones, but I could head loud and clear the one on the other end! I could swear our poor instructor had lost his train of thought, and I certainly wasn’t the only one who noticed. C’mon people! Unplug or you may find someone doing for you!
See that? It’s a grin. It’s appearance is rare on his little face. I had to dig to find a picture with him smiling in it.
I mentioned to Lainy several times before I left the kitchen to please eat her snack up to the table. Jared came in to me quickly to share that indeed, Lainy had sauntered to the couch to munch. I gave a quick yell, “Lainy! Get up to the table” As I did so, I saw the slight upturn of Jared’s lip curl into a smile.
Little Stinker.
He enjoyed tattling a few more times,and listening to me call to her to head back to the table before Lainy called in to me, “Mom? How do you know exactly when I am eating on the couch??”
Do-not-want-to-run. Do-not-want-to-run. Do-not-want-to-run.
I am in a slump. I have two HUGE races coming at the end of this month and next, and I have ZERO motivation. I need someone to kick me or give me a good shove to wake me up.
Evacuate the dance floor? I think so.
Jared’s car seat was out of commission and while using a side-less booster, fell asleep and the head bobbing began. Jared, this is for you as proof of how much your sister loves you. She sat in this uncomfortable position for 15 minutes (and still managed to watch the TV!) and kept your head from falling forward.
They are a select few. They remain consistent. I would like very much become one of them. I speak of those who readily volunteer their thoughts in Gospel Doctrine each Sunday afternoon. I have a steady stream of my own thoughts but each time I resolve to make them known, my arms turn to solid concrete. Then someone else makes their point and I inwardly kick myself because my line of thought was so much more relevant. (ha ha) Someday.
And while on the subject, something that has become somewhat of a Sunday annoyance. When a teacher asks a room full of adults ‘who might volunteer for an opening or closing prayer?’ Not a hand is raised. Of course until someone from the group steps in. I leaned over to Jason and mentioned, no vowed to always stick my concrete hand up and never allow prayer to become a burden again. Hey, maybe it will catch on and instead become a race.
Sweet isn’t it?
Too bad it’s forced affection. A great form of punishment on road trips when you can’t separate them.
I know it looks like we are walking through the land of desolation with a coyote trailing us, but in our town we call it hiking in the San Tans with our dog Flapjack. Its about a mile from our house and we loved it. Lainy started to complain that her legs hurt and could we please carry her about 30 seconds after we got out of the car.
Jayce is quite the outdoorsman. When we had gone about 45 minutes and were going to turn around to head back, he was ticked that we had not ‘been hiking’ yet. What did he think we were doing out there? So, Jason headed off trail and straight up the side of the mountain. Jayce was happy. I was not.
Pretty cool place though.
The invitations are finished!
Shelley is due in a few short weeks and we are crossing our fingers that little Hailee stays put until then!
Lainy bug Lainy bug
Look how you’ve grown!
Just yesterday a baby
And today a little lady.
Your zest for life contagious
your smile wide and bright.
What would we do without you?
I love you with all my might!
Lainy, I am so grateful to be your mother. You teach me so many things. Never lose the joy that exudes from you in everything you do. I love you pretty girl. Happy Birthday!
We headed out that Friday afternoon to St George. We got to the hotel a full 5 minutes before the bachelorette party ended. The next morning we went the the temple sealing and the reception that night. I wish I had taken more pictures of Mike’s restaurant- it looked AMAZING.
We spent 2 days there seeing a bit of Zion’s national park and then made our way up to Shannon’s in Logan. There was a little bit of this…
And a tad of this…
And just a sprinkling of THIS!
We celebrated mine and Lainy’s birthdays there and Jason took it upon himself to make me a special cake…
When Shannon and I left he had begun the cake, when we got home we poked around the kitchen looking for it’s hiding place, wondering why we couldn't smell it. Jason was sitting quietly on the couch when we found the remains of batter in the trash. He started out well until while mixing noticed the weird consistency of the batter. It was a little oily. He doubled the oil and forgot the water. Whoops. I am grateful for the effort!
We stayed with Jake and Kyra (thank you!!) And if you remember this little guy Brenden who is not so little anymore! We had a grand time and froze a bit more up in Washington. Thanksgiving was spend with the Stolworthy side and it was divine.
Lainy got quite attached to Gpa Chad this time. Had to nearly peel her away with good-byes.
The boys had their day with guns up on his dad’s property. I stayed clear. 9 years and I still don’t so so well with it all.
The trip home was 22 hours and we went straight through. Ugh. I was ready to jump ship.
As you can see, the car ride took it’s toll on the kids too- not sure how we got this beauty captured.
I woke up this morning and my voice was no where to be found. It’s nearing 9 am and I am quickly realizing the advantages to this little cold. First, only the child who had to go to school arose early and since I couldn’t talk he followed suit and whispered himself. In turn, the two little ones slept until 15 minutes ago when I nearly dragged them from their slumber. They also have taken to whispering. Whisper through breakfast, whisper to each other. My house seems very…. reverent. I may milk this one….
It’s been uphill. And downhill. We’ve gone around the hill and sometimes barreling through it. At least my marriage has. But here’s what I have learned so far. As you are climbing this mountain together, stumbling and falling, helping each other up, and sometimes tripping the other with vengeance, it is crucial to remember to stop and look around you. Look how far you have come. See the beauty from above and just breathe it in.
You can’t climb mount Everest without first climbing much smaller feats. There are days when we feel as though we did it. We reached the top and it feels glorious! We stop and look around us, clinging to each other in awe that we made it. Only to turn around and see yet a larger mountain we must defeat.
In answer to many prayers at a trial some time in my life I was given the answer that we as a couple needed to experience this in order to be prepared for what is to come. Not all of us may need to climb mount Everest, but we sure need to be prepared to do so.
Mom? Were you born in the 1900’s?
Yup.
Whoa.
Sheesh, he made it sound like I’m ancient! Just in time to turn 30 I guess.
Truly you know your children are tired when you are 3 for 3 in each of them climbing into bed on their own without a sound. And when 3 children are that tired, their mother is bound to be.
When I was a kid I remember my dad always walking over to a corner wall and scratching his back on it. He loved a good back scratch. There is nothing worse than the feeling of the itch beginning in the middle of your back juuuust out of reach, and the scramble to find something or someone to scratch it for you. Ahhhh, then the feeling of relief as they hit the spot.
Jayce loves a good back scratch. Lainy thinks she does, but every time you begin, her body starts to wiggle and she can’t stop the giggling. Too ticklish. I love a good palm scratch. Something about the palm of my hand being scratched just relaxes me.
Jared, being 3 has just learned the value of laying over moms lap and asking, “Can you scrape my back?”
***An hour after I posted this I came into the kitchen and Lainy had her shirt off and was frantically scratching her back on the edge of the kitchen table, telling me her back itched so bad!
I swore this was the year I was living Halloween simply.
And I did.
Until 2 days before Halloween. I’m not sure what happened. I went into sew mode somehow. Decided against the simple ghost idea and created a complete Avatar costume, the fluff to Lainy’s ladybug, and lost my fire when I got to Jared, gained control and went back to simple and dug out the ol’ cookie monster costume. Phew. I am glad it’s over.
We trick or treated one house and that was Gramma Jet.
Thank you Georgette! We love you!
Then it was off to trunk or treat!
I did get a chance to gussy up a lady in our ward who wanted to go ‘Harley’.
Jayce was such a sport to let me shave his head for the evening. He did panic a bit when the realization set in that he had to attend school and church this way.
Lainy and Tessa both came as bugs, which is fitting. Those two are always buzzing around together.
It’s faces like this that make it all worth it.
I
found
my
RING!
Actually Jason found it tonight in his pajama pants pocket. We have looked everywhere including my entire acre with a stinkin metal detector. It’s like having an old friend back.
Sigh.
Life is good.
My sweet friend asked me last week how I did it. Keep my house clean (ha ha), raise my kids, support a husband in school, and work 20-30 hours a week. The truth is… I don’t. I can’t do it all. Especially not at the same time. My days are like taking a handful of balls and throw them all up in the air at the same time and then trying to catch them. Sometimes you catch one, and all the others fall. Once in a blue moon, you catch the majority of them and feel pretty good about yourself. Today I caught one ball. Two women walked out of the salon with their hair looking better than when they walked in. It’s something right?
I know I know, Wo is me.
Jason and I was discussing my recently lost wedding ring while lazily laying in bed this morning and it went a little something like this…
“I really do love my new wedding ring, I have had a lot of compliments on it” I say.
He acknowledges my comment with an mmm hmm.
Then, still being a little tired I say, “I wish had I had some sort of super power that I could feel or hear if it were nearby…”
Smiling now he says, “yeah I can just hear it’s little screams now.”
I am into it now, “help me! help me you idiots I am right here!”
Jason says… (sorry still laughing at this…) “Yeah, it’s probably outside in the dirt and some gopher is using it as it’s disco ball.”
I must still be so tired.
Best compliment I’ve had in a while…
Jayce: Mom, you laugh a lot don’t you?
Life’s too short not to!
Last Thanksgiving I cut out a tree from cardboard and a handful of leaves and for family night we sat and wrote each thing we were thankful for on the leaves and it stayed up for a few weeks. This year I found this tree at Michaels and bought a leaf punch and put it up when Autumn began. I wanted to remember to be thankful a lot longer than just one night. So, I hung a bag of leaves and a marker next to the tree and welcome anyone who enters my home to fill a leaf on my tree with what they are grateful for. This was the first day we hung it, and it has slowly been riddled with words of thanks by many. I hope to have a beautiful fall tree by Thanksgiving Day!
Marjorie Pay Hinckley said:
Life is full of challenges. Many of them involve balance and temperance. Complete abstention may be easier than moderation. It’s easier for me to completely abstain from smoking than to try and balance my day- a little for this, a little for that, a little for him, a little for her.
Ralph Waldo Emerson expresses a majestic thought when he said: “It is easy in the world to live after the world’s opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude.”
I have been struggling with balance in my life. Trying to decide what I should try and balance in, or if I should completely abstain from it. It was a few days ago that a little 5x5 inch purple book on my bookshelf seemed to call to me. Sister Hinckley's book entitled ‘Small and Simple Things’. In it I found this thought. I read it and reread it and have repeated it to myself over the course of the last couple of days and each time it becomes more clear to me what a simple practice it is, and yet so difficult for me.
Thank you to the Hambly’s for letting me bombard them for a day and being such great friends. I love you guys.
I wish I didn’t live so far away from my dear friend!
And I’m sorry, is she not just to die for? I had the day to spend with these two ladies, and a part of the day to share with the boys of the fam, who are equally as wonderful! (but not as photographed apparently!)
Thank you to my parents for feeding me, housing me, and allowing me to tag along. I love you guys.
YES. That is the golden gate bridge. I went over it. Twice! It was pretty cool.
Ok, and the reason for this trip in the first place was to attend Jess and Tami’s Engagement party and I didn’t even bring my camera to it! Sheesh.
So, it was beautiful and filled with ALOT of aunts, uncles, cousins and friends. They were all so kind and gracious. Jess and Tami looked stunning-
(like Arabian Princess Barbie and Ken. Seriously.)
Ok, but without all the fluff. Great company, great food, and glad to be home!
I put the kids to bed early last night. Jayce was up at the crack of dawn at 5:30. He came flying in holding a plate of goodies that the Phantom Ghost had left on our porch last night! (Thank you!) I of course told him to go away and let me sleep. It was when I finally (at 6:45) woke and found my kitchen in a bit of a mess that I realized the potential of my sweet children. Jared had changed his own clothes (into another pair of jammies, but still) Jayce had gotten dressed, made a valiant attempt at making pancakes (with flour) and all were coloring at the table very quietly together. Well, truthfully Jayce was coloring while the other two begged to help him. I actually had a glimmer of hope that someday Jayce might be able fill the role of babysitter. My dreams came crashing down when he came over and told me his pants felt weird and kept slipping down in the back.
Jayce. Your jeans are on backwards.
Conversation between Jayce and Wyatt:
Jayce: My mom is going away this weekend with my dad. She’s going there to get pregnant.
Jayce and I had a little chat a week or so ago about babies. I am guessing he has thought about it a bit since then. We had another little chat tonight about mom not being pregnant and how it all happens. (In case anyone is confused… No, I am not pregnant, not planning to, not hoping to be.)
You know when you were younger and your alarm went off in the morning and you sleepily think of the reasons to stay in bed? Then your brain goes through the previous days events and if something great happened that day (i.e. a kiss, a new job, chocolate muffins) it gets you out of bed and puts a hop in your step? Well, this morning I did that for the first time in a long time. And I wanted to remember my list.
And the thought that gave me the most joy…
All of my children slept through the night. No pee, no asthma, no coughing, no nightmares. Sigh. This HAS to be a good day!
(And it’s only going to be 90 degrees!!! I love anything that isn’t triple digits.)
Several years ago Jason and I were traveling together pre-children and saw a wonderfully memorable man on a street corner waving an advertisement poster. He was enthusiastically dancing to his music, wore cut of jean shorts a tank top and had stringy long blonde hair under a backwards facing hat. Jason mentioned how stupid he was. I on the other hand, got caught up in his sheer enjoyment, leaned across Jason and out the drivers side window with flailing arms, and gave him a big ‘woo hoo!’ The dancing man responded appropriately with ‘hang loose’. And then Jason muttered words that became a staple in our ability to make one another laugh. “You’re stupid too.” If you spend enough time with us, you might catch us lovingly exchange these words.
These black plate holders were supposed to be returned when they didn’t quite fit what I needed them for… Except they kept disappearing.
They seem to fit very well in the boys holsters. As you can tell, they don’t stray far from their owners.
Earlier I found this pop tart with a hole clean through. I wonder if the 2 are connected somehow…
While reading a fellow bloggers’ recent posting I had that deep set heavy feeling in my chest that I needed to get out on paper. As a parent I have learned the hard way (is there any other way to learn?!) to change a child's inappropriate, negative, or bad behavior. I will openly admit I was a yeller. And I tended to focus on the negative. I still have my moments, but have learned the damaging affects it has on a child. I have seen in 2 years time, my child change from a sad, angry, and frustrated child 80% of the time, to a happy, pleasant, loving child %90 of the time. And though it has now become the norm and the days fly by without much notice, there are moments when he cracks a joke or quietly ruffles his sisters hair with a smile, that my heart is filled with joy and such gratitude.
“To change child's behavior...HUGS, KISSES, COMPLIMENTS: make them feel good about the RIGHT behavior. Give extra attention, slow down, play with them.” (Thank you again Rach- you are on a roll this week!)
AMEN. It changed my life and his.
He was nearly asleep. He had both hands up at his face and was gently pulling on his eyelashes. Jared of course, woke up as soon as the car stopped and ran inside. It reminded me of Jayce when he was a baby. I would rock him to sleep and he had the longest eyelashes, and they were often a little awry, so as he fell into sleep I would softly pull on them to straighten them out. It became a nightly ritual and as he got older I found that whenever he went to bed or was sleepy his hands would go to his eyelashes and just pull lightly on them. They mimic even in their sleep.
Jared is 3. I must admit as I sit here preparing my thoughts on this little boy, I heaved a huge sigh. It’s been quite a messy year…
And the list goes on. But if I put all of these things somehow on a scale and balanced them against the amount of joy and love I have received from having him in my life, there is no contest. He is worth every second. Happy Birthday Jared. I love you.
Our home teachers came by today and we were discussing the topic of women and how many of us feel such inadequacy and often compare ourselves to other women and mothers and how we often think the grass is greener on the other side. My friend Rachel (who’s blog is now private so no link sorry!) posted an amazing quote on that subject a while back and it has stuck with me.
The grass is not, in fact, always greener on the other side of the fence. Fences have nothing to do with it. The grass is greenest where it is watered. When crossing over fences, carry water with you and tend the grass wherever you may be. -Robert Fulghum
Steve Mullenaux one of my home teachers posed a question this afternoon,
“Do you know why the grass is always greener on the other side?”
His answer held more truth than I was ready for.
“Because there is a whole lot of crap over there to fertilize it with.”
If you’ve ever bought a tract home you know that the most exciting part (for me) is picking out your colors and features. How excited I was that I could pick out my very own house! First, how big? Ok, there are only 6 floor plans to choose from, but still I get to pick! And picking the colors! Of course, I had to stay within the parameters of their color scheme. So, ok, I could pick from 2 greens, cream, tan, and brown. But still I was picking my own colors! And then to pick out my upgrades! Here is the small list of what you are allowed. It was glorious. Or was it?
I kind of have that same feeling about the nation these days. I feel as if we are being told, “Here are your freedoms. You can say whatever you want… as long as it is on this list. You can think and feel as you please, but you must stay within these few topics and ideals. Freedom to bear arms…. wait, scratch that- we’re taking that from you. Freedom of religion, but only in a way that won’t infringe on, or hurt the feelings of another, maybe we should take that too. Congratulations on your new found freedoms.”
I am aware of the negativity in this post, I am so tired of feeling like our America we know and love and are so blessed to be a part of, is being transformed and crumbling before our very eyes.
4 years ago we began the plans for our current home. No rules or exceptions unless it was for the safety and stability of the structure, we drew it, redrew it, until it was what we wanted. We painted it, and I wanted a different color so we re-painted it! It took a while, it was frustrating, it was hard work and no it isn’t perfect. But it was ours. And this is how I feel about America. The harder we work, the more we put into it, the better it will be. Perfect? Not by a long shot. But worth it.
Remember this? My baby is no longer so much a baby at nearly 3, and no longer has that piney fresh smell. He has graduated into the stinky little boy phase. I noticed it this morning as I begged for a snuggle and then snuggled him right to the bathtub. Sniffff…. aaaah. Lavender. (high on my favorite smells list- J&J lavender shampoo). And a few short hours later as I crawled in bed next to him to wake him from his slumber… the lavender was gone. In it’s place… stinky little boy. Can I borrow someone’s baby?
Days like today make me grateful for the hum drum run of the mill daily on goings. (Minus the amazing Pedi and plate of brownies)
Driving and picking up 8 different shifts in 100 degrees made for a necessary few changes of clothing. Shelley came and gave me a Pedi, (highlight of my day thank you!) The other Shelli brought me a plate of brownies. I am sure they were delicious, my kids devoured all but 4 which I stashed on the counter for Jason I at a later time. Instead, I forgot to lock up the stupid cat and she enjoyed them. Lainy wanted her nails painted like mine so we did. Jared later decided he wanted some painting done as well, but without help. Everywhere. White cabinets, knees, feet, hands, shirt. I found that mess while I was making some semblance of a meal out of my most favorite whipping cream biscuits and a new chicken fingers recipe that looked and smelled divine. Here’s how that went down… As I opened a brand new gallon of apple juice, Lainy spilled water. She grabbed a towel off the counter that was holding the plate of freshly baked biscuits. I tried to catch (and miss) the plate and the apple juice went flying. All over me. By the time I returned from taking a sanity break, the chicken was ruined. Sigh. At least we had leftover pizza from last night to eat.
How often does a friend come along that you can preceed the term friend with "dear" or "best"? Not often for me. I think they are scarce so that we don't become lax and take them for granted. Truly it is a gift to have a dear or a best friend, and one does not have more than a handful in a lifetime. Whatever the case, I am grateful for those on my small list of dearest friends. These are women who I have leaned upon, or have leaned upon me, since that is what a friendship essentially means. You fill gaps when you are needed, and get your own gaps or in some cases, gaping holes filled by thier love and compassion. You cry with and cry for them. You laugh at, get laughed at, and laugh together. All of these friendships have seen and overcome trials, heartache, or sorrow. It is through this that the friendships are solidified. I am grateful for a Heavenly Father who is mindful of us always and uses his children to steady, uplift, and strengthen one another.
As a second grader, this kid has been waiting for years to lose a tooth. He has stubborn teeth, and the only reason this one got knocked loose, was while opening opening a gel bottle with his teeth it slipped!
A week or so later, Jason gave it a good yank and out it came. Jayce quickly asked… “Mom, do you have anybody coming over tonight?” Nope. “any clients or anything??” I should have led him to a rooftop, he needed to do some shouting. He made sure to smile as largely as possible to draw attention and possibly an inquiry of his newly spaced teeth.
Lainy: We used to live in Aprica.
Mom: No lainy, California. And it’s Africa.
Jayce: No, you used to live in that little corner state. You know, the one on our map with an apple on it.
Mom: That’s Washington and only dad lived there. They have really good apples there.
Lainy: We’re going to move to Africa.
Mom: No Lainy, we’re not. You know the people who have very dark brown skin? A lot of them are from Africa.
Jayce: No fair- they get the best apples there.
Let’s begin again…
Make new friends, but keep the old
One is silver and the other is….
Gold.
Jason brought home a kitten last Sunday from a family out here and we just love her. Growing up Jason’s family called Indian fry bread, ‘flapjacks’ which is where we got the name of our dog (who looks much better shaved). And we thought we would follow suit with the cat. We eat chili with flapjacks so we named her chili.
Of course the kids love her and don’t set her down unless specifically told to do so. Lainy said the opening prayer in primary today and I was told it went something like this:
Dear Heavenly Father, thank for my family, (etc) please help us to be kind, and love each other… (pause) and please bless the cat. And please bless that if she jumps over the fence we will be able to get her back. In the name if Jesus Christ Amen.
I might as well just teach my children to cut hair since I can’t seem to keep them from doing it.
See how happy I am to be cutting off her beautiful blonde hair?
Jayce turned 7 this month. Yes, weeks ago. Hey, I didn’t forget about it altogether. My sweet smiling freckly faced boy. He asked me once recently why I still called him my baby sometimes. The book Love you Forever hits the nail on the head. (Minus the weird carrying a grown man and rocking him part) I cry each time I read it.
Jayce has tried my patience, my temper, and more of my patience, but he is becoming a helpful little man. As soon as he turned 7, he announced he was going to be 8 soon. He can’t wait to be baptized. Such a happy sweet boy. If he isn’t smiling it’s because he is hungry, sleeping, or got hurt.
I love you Jayce.
As we head through Barnes and Noble and proceed to the escalator, all 3 of my children take a step back and I hear exclamations of “What is that? Wow, how do you get on it!?” and “No, No No, I don’t want to!” Am I that bad of a mother that my kids haven’t been on an escalator? Jayce quickly remembered his escalator feet, but I had to carry Jared and give Lainy a good shove.
They had to use the bathroom once we got up there and since it was quiet and no one else was in the women’s bathroom I made Jayce come in with us. I was helping Jared or Lainy in one of the stalls and I hear Jayce exclaim, “Mom! Mom! I need a quarter! Can I have a quarter please??” Jayce you don’t want one of those honey. Trust me.
By Joseph Walker
Dad was, by nature, a “stand up” guy.
Whenever a card game got intense, he’d stand up to make his play. Whenever he watched me play basketball or football he never sat in the stands with the other parents; he always stood by the side of the bleachers—usually alone. Whenever I came home late from a date, I’d sit on the couch and he’d stand in front of me to lecture—usually with a little pacing thrown in for good measure.
That’s just the kind of a guy he was. Forthright. Direct. You know—stand up.
One Fourth of July we were on the front row for our town’s annual Independence Day Parade. Dad had gone down to Main Street early to set our folding chairs along the curb, so we had a great spot from which to watch the floats and bands and beauty queens pass by. We had just settled into our seats when a snare drum cadence signaled the start of the parade.
To our right, four men in ill-fitting World War II uniforms marched down the middle of Main Street, carrying the red, white, and blue of the United States of America. Their eyes were fixed forward and they marched with clear direction and purpose, apparently unaware that their tummies were hanging ponderously over their government-issue belts.
But we were aware. To tell the truth, it was hard to miss. Some of the folks were chuckling and chatting about the veterans, who were so clearly past their prime. A couple of teenagers in the back shouted out jeers and taunts—this was, after all, the Vietnam War era, and such disrespect for the flag and for those who fought under it was common. Patriotism was unpopular, and in some settings even risky.
I don’t know exactly when my father stood up and took his hat from his head and placed it over his heart. He did it quietly, almost unobtrusively. But Dad wasn’t a small man, and it didn’t take long for the rowdies in the back to notice.
“Down in front!” one of them shouted.
“Yeah,” another chimed in. “Down in front!”
Suddenly I realized they were yelling at my father, who continued to stand at attention, his eyes riveted on the stars and stripes. Nervously, I looked at Dad, willing him with all my heart and soul to sit down and not draw any more attention to himself—and to me, who wouldn’t stand a chance against any of those high school boys.
“Hey, Mr. Hawk,” came another shout. “Find a place to perch!”
I had no idea why they called Dad “Mr. Hawk.” I didn’t know anything about the hawk-dove designations that were being used all around the country to characterize pro-war and anti-war sentiments. I just knew my father’s propensity for standing was attracting some undesirable attention, and I was feeling embarrassed—and a little threatened.
But then an interesting thing happened. Another man about Dad’s age stood up a few feet away. He looked at the boys, then turned and faced the flag and put his hand over his heart. Then a woman to Dad’s right did the same thing, and she tugged her husband to stand up with her. Then another couple, then an elderly woman, then an entire family right in front of the rowdies. Before the color guard had passed, the entire section of parade-goers—with the exception of a few high school boys—was standing at attention with their hands over their hearts.
Not a word was spoken, but a message was sent to those teenagers—and to me. Patriotism isn’t just something you feel. Sometimes, it’s something you do.
Whether or not you are, by nature, a stand up guy.
I love the 4th of July. It is officially my favorite holiday, aside from the obvious importance of religious holidays. This one isn’t surrounded by the flurry of gift buying/giving, there isn’t a huge build up of anticipation and preparation. And yet, there is just a buzz about it. It’s what a celebration of something important to us should be. A tribute without the sometimes selfish traditions attached. I love this country. I am truly grateful to have been born and live in it. I don’t think words exist to express my gratitude to those who have given their time, dedication, and in many cases lives so I can live in freedom. Thank you.
I loved this feeling as kid. Rolling wildly down a grassy slope.
Does not feel the same as an adult. It’s more like someone shoved you down a slope and you throw up at the end.
How will I ever teach my kids all the things they need to learn to be successful adults. I feel so guilty working so often and letting them raise each other on some days.
Since I have so many women in and out of my chair, I get to hear various stories and outlooks on life. There are times I feel as though I just left a therapy session as the therapist, and some days as the patient. Today’s session helped me realize I needed to look on the sunny side of what my life has become.
I am grateful to be home with the kids and working in my home. Independence is a characteristic each of my kids have learned just naturally. Sure one is more shy than another, or bossier, or more creative, but they each take initiative to take care of each other, and for that I am grateful.
Right now they have a notebook paper with some crudely drawn lines and a bag of tortilla chips and are playing a version of “Don’t Eat Pete”.
