Little Baby Girl

In the middle of the night, comes the call...we have a baby, she needs a home.  Can you take her?  The family where we plan to put her, where her brother all already is, can't be reached.  We know it's not ideal but you will have her a couple days to a week.  Can we bring her by?

And after a sleepy, half cogent prayer and a brief discussion, the answer is yes.  She is delivered still in the dead of night, before the sun is up, before my brain is operating still.  Sleep is foregone, but adrenaline - the good kind- is running rampant.  My mind rushes to fill the million gaps and potential problems that I can find and starts providing solutions.

And once she is here, it is easy to see that the answer can next to never be no.  This is a human.  Someone with a need and as a disciple of Christ, I will retrieve the one, if at all possible.  And so now, I am sleep deprived, in school, barely holding it all together, letting Travis pick up so much of where I am failing.  It reminds me what an amazing helpmeet and husband I have in him.  It reminds me of the toughness and resiliency of our family.  It reminds me I don't need to be perfect, just present. 

I'm So Excited For Her/I Don't Want to Let Her Go

Returning Isabella to college brings out the bipolar in me.  My emotions range from one end to the other and often I can be experiencing both simultaneously.  After coming home during the Spring semester and then staying home for the Summer Semester, I wasn't prepared to get used to her living at home again just to send her back.  But alas, I am excited for her, but I am sad for me.  I want to see her spread her wings, but I will miss my buddy. 

So in a massive send off we went to visit some places we hadn't been before.  We went to Colorado Springs, Manitou Springs, Pike's Peak, Breckenridge, and then into Utah and Idaho to visit friends and family.  Touring with just one kid is super fun and gives them so much control to pick what interests them.  

Last leaving is always a tear filled goodbye. Both on her part and mine. In the end though, I know she is exactly where she needs to be doing exactly what she needs to do. So Travis, Isabella, and I spend the last few days trying to stock pile as many cuddles as we can to last us through the separation.  Love you Princess Pei Pei.

He's a Te(e)n!

It's his birthday!  He's officially a teen.  Although it feels like he has been one for some time.  He's a bit of an old soul and as the youngest he is always trying to keep up.  In some ways he is way beyond his years and then in others he is right on track, and then occasionally, he's a little behind - like in the height department.  But what they say is true, great things come in small packages and besides his stature there is nothing small about this boy.  He is thoughtful, valiant, stalwart.  He is a feeler and empathetic and helpful.  He is a bit sassy and spirited and I swear I see as much of the backs of his eyes as I do the fronts.  He is my social butterfly and my best buddy.  He is a perfect ten!  Thanks for being a part of our family.  We couldn't survive without you.  We wouldn't laugh nearly as much!

What's your favorite thing to do?

Video games - Super Smash Bros

What do you want to be when you grow up? 
Own my own business

What is your favorite food?
Chick Fil-A

Who do you like to hang out with?
No one, because of social distancing.

What do you do really well? 
Play video games

What makes you laugh?
People

What is the best time of day?
Time to go to bed, Night time

What are you afraid of?
The sea

What do you like to do with your family?
Go places - vacation

What do you like to learn about?
Food

Where do you like to go?
Anywhere

What is your favorite book?
Stone Fox

If you could have one wish, what would it be?

To go to bed

The Man, The Myth, The Legend

Many knew him as Big Rig, but that was not something I called him.  When I called to him it was usually with the words John-his name, but always with the thought Dad.  Clearly he wasn't my biological dad, but I can still remember acutely when they moved to our area.  I remember the buzz about the new family, hearing their family biography including the kids names, ages, and genders, and it seems like almost instantly we all feel into friendships with our families intertwined.  Their house was the first house I experienced the idea of refrigerator rights with.  The idea of such comfort and acceptance that you could walk in and eat whatever they had as if you were at your own house.  And despite it being Marlene who I am sure bought all those groceries to feed the masses, did all the dishes afterwards, cleaned her house unendingly as we dervishly tore through room after room, it was John's booming laugh, warm spirit, and jovial nature that made everyone gather near, like we wanted to be in on whatever was going on around him.  

They arrived on the scene just before my parents divorce and John devotedly bore the brunt of so much.  As an ecclesiastic leader, he often mediated the mess.  As a friend, he checked on us, cheered us, and wrapped his arms around us, and as an additional father figure he gave many a lecture, filled with analogies that were lost to my 11, 13, and even sometimes 15 year old mind.  I look back and can see how apt most of those lectures were and what an impregnable force he was to support not only ever member of his family, but ours, and a slew of others as well.  He stepped into the mostawkward part of my adolescence trying to help smooth the way.  He invited me to join his daughter, and my friend- Nicole, to the daddy/daughter dances, he bought me tampons in times of teenage crisis when you are caught totally unaware, and time and time again he took my burdens upon himself as he listened to my worries, assuring me he would take care of it and not to worry. And through a half dozen adolescent years, he was solid, consistent, steadying, and sure.  

It was no surprise that he was at my wedding, and for the first year after, anytime we saw one another he would hold up his "view finder" hands and loudly proclaim "newlywed alert, newlywed alert".  I didn't understand and with each passing month, I was so determined to prove that Travis and I were no longer newlyweds, but seasoned marital partners.  Oh to be so naive and young.  He would then chuckle and tell me that we had the glow of newlyweds though. You can just tell when people are newly married, because they always have to be touching one another, they constantly look at each other all moonily, and a host of other little tells.  He enlightened me that our actions gave us away as newlyweds.  After about two and a half years of marriage, he was still proclaiming "newlywed alert".  When I reiterated that we were no longer newlyweds, he assured me he would relinquish the phrase when it was no longer apt.  Many years later, with kids in tow, and living farther away, I remember walking into my home church congregation.  One of the first people I saw was John.  Each time was filled with hugs and catching up, and he said to me "newlywed alert".  It had been about ten years, and I sighed dramatically.  Sensing my exhaustion, he told me, that this wasn't something that should frustrate me.  He said that he had figured out that Travis and I would be the type of marriage to always have a little extra glow about it.  And he said that no matter how old I got, how long I was married, or how many kids I had, that he would never be able to forget the image of me in my teen years, walking sleepily through his house after spending the night, running in and out on the weekends, and that I would forever be that young additional daughter to him.

So last year when I took my daughter on her senior trip, an idea inspired by this legend of a man, one of the places we went to was France.  His ties to France ran deep, not only in knowing the language, but a myriad of other experiences and family history.  As we entered the country, I started humming quietly to myself Aux Champs Elysees and thought of him.  It was maybe my third year of camp,  age 14, where he came up for Bishop's night.  I had been doodling at a picnic table and he came over and joined me offering tips along the way.  He was an amazing artist too amidst his never-ending list of talents and skills.  As he sat there helping me he started humming this tune.  I thought it was catchy and so he proceeded to teach me this little french song.  I knew not a lick of French, and so he painstakingly said each syllable over and over, me poorly mimicking the sounds I heard, him translating for me what I was learning to sing.  He taught me all about the street the song revered, the bridge filled with locks put on by lovers, and a host of other french history. So as I toured my daughter around this amazing country, I taught her the song then too lyric by lyric.  He was on my mind and when I got home, I told him about it briefly over social media.  Then just a week ago, something happened when my family was driving in the car, I can't remember exactly what it was, that triggered us all to spontaneously break out into that song.  Everyone knows a phrase or two at least and we descended into giggles as happily butchered it.  

My insides glowed at such fond memories spanning multiple generations.  Then it just as quickly broke when I heard the following week about his death.  For me it was unexpected.  And so despite my intense heartbreak, I can't imagine how his family must feel.  For every one of my memories of which there are hundreds, they must have thousands.  This was a man who never lived halfway and that sometimes makes the absence so much more encompassing.  But of this I am sure, this man knew from whence would come his redemption and resurrection.  He taught it to his family, my family, a church congregation, and everyone he met.  He lived it, and his kids live it.  I feel confident that when the day comes, they will all be together again.  His arms will be outstretched, his booming voice, his laughing face, and affectionate embrace will be waiting to meet them.  So despite his physical absence he remains, "the man, the myth, and the legend" even still and forever.

20 Years Strong and Only Getting Stronger

20 years ago kneeling over an altar, I said yes and covenanted with Travis our eternities.  We were surrounded by friends and family, dressed in white, and wildly naive as to what marriage was.

Today at the 20 year mark, I know that marriage is sleepless tag team nights of child rearing, stressful disagreements in lean financial times, comforting hugs through loss and heartbreak, and the best friend, roommate, and dreamy crush all in one.

As I ran this morning, I imagined our 40 year anniversary.  All the kids grown with kids and families of their own.  I saw Travis retired and constantly by my side, always my fondest wish, doting on and spoiling our children and grandchildren.  I see afternoon naps spooned together like when we used to date.  

Then my mind spun to your 60 year anniversary.  I imagined us hanging onto one another as we wonder our house because we can't remember where we laid things down at, shuffling more slowly but still busily engaged in our hobbies.  I see grandkids popping in and out checking on us and us dozing on and off as we watch movies together in the afternoons.

God willing we may even make it to 70 years that is how young we were married, but my youthfulness in choosing him and him me has not ever given me one moment's pause. he has always been and continues to be my sure thing.  My confidence in him and us only grows stronger with each passing day.  HAPPY ANNIVERSARY BABE! Eat well, exercise lots, and get some sleep because I have big and busy plans for our future.

2020 - He Shall Prepare a Way

The church changed its whole learning curriculum. It put the primary responsibility of teaching back on the parents, with support from the church and leaders.

It changed the way it ministered to a higher, holier way.

I had a spiritual experience that required me to humble myself and give the boys the option to homeschool.

I received a blessing, that blessed me with an increased ability to relax and wait on the Lord and his timing.  

I felt an urgent need to continue to spiritually prepare myself and my family for the ever impending return of the Savior.

I started stressing about putting my house in financial order, paying things off rapidly and acquiring more financial reserves.  

I felt an increasing need to distance myself from the world, the news, and the imposed doom and gloom of daily peer pressure.

I was impressed with the desire to go to the temple more, become unbending in making daily scripture study and prayer a daily habit and more prominent part of each day.

I felt the weight of teaching my kids how to Index and getting them to practice more so that I wouldn't need to sit with them each time they decided to do it.

I felt a need to start eliminating activities, extra curriculars, and superfluous demands that didn't immediately and blindingly bond our family spiritually to the Lord and one another.

I got a blessing with the words, have an increased ability to relax, to wait on the Lord's timing.  All of these things have happened in the previous year or so.

And then 2020 happened.  It happened with the swiftness and craziness that would challenge most any dystopian book. Natural disasters, political nightmares, and super-viruses challenged our whole way of living.

January started a new job for my husband, and brought wildfires that devastated an entire country and continent of Australia. 

February a plague of locusts in Africa.

In March, COVID just got real, especially for the US; schools close for the rest of the academic year.

April brought us news of "murder hornets" along with hoarding of supplies and grocery stores having empty aisles and limits on food and cleaning supplies.

May the economy starts to collapse, layoffs, unemployment, and all that create financial hardship for large portions of the population.

June brings protests and riots galore.  Started around Black Lives Matter but quickly evolving to every injustice and with a demand to defund the police.

July shows us just how bad the child trafficking situation is, along with pornography, and the horrific part is how masks have increased the predators ability to snatch kids.

In August, the Beirut explosion largest since Atomic bombs occur.

And with September just right around the bend, already election fighting has started, sides are being taken, and already divisiveness rules supreme.  I'm sure this will continue and escalate all the way to the November election.

I logically think I should feel worried, stressed, powerless, but all I feel is awed, humbled, and thankful.  Where the world sees a million calamities and I can't dispute them, I see the hand of the Lord that spent the last year and a half preparing me for this.  I see mass changes for the church that prepared us to do church at home, I see ministering as the solution for checking on those who are isolated and socially distanced.  I see blessings that prepared me mentally for what was in store.  I had increased revelation to change my way of thinking so the adjustment would be easier for me and my family.  I saw job changes that afforded us more job security and disposable income.  I saw food storage and supplies of normal living items carrying me through shortages.  I see my lack of cable as a buffer from the pervasive fear mongering.  I see that when the temple is closed, I have hundreds of experiences in the past three years to carry me through.  I have children who learned to and now monthly participate in those ordinances through indexing.  I see a million ways in which we were prepared and I am reminded, "he shall prepare a way for them to accomplish the things which he commanded."

And what did he command, that we should be a light unto the world, and "giveth light unto all that are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven."  So are there times, when I still can't wrap my brain around all of this dystopian crazy, absolutely.  But I testify that I have never felt more confident in the words of the Lord, in his promises and their assuredness, and last that as we are obedient to the eternal laws that govern both a God in Heaven and this Earth, that he through loving instruction has given us a sure fire plan to feel peace, happiness, and shoulders that can bear the burdens placed thereon.

No matter what religion you are or where your faith lies, I invite all - "come unto Christ, be perfected in Him, and deny yourselves of all ungodliness."  I promise - it is worth it!

Sad, Happy, and Everything in Between

With the new school year starting in just a few days, I am feeling reflective and introspective.  I've learned at times of transition, I tend to be more thoughtful.  

Sad:

I am sad the kids are going back to school.

I will miss them.

I will be lonely without them.

I hate the early mornings.

The hectic schedules and filled hours with busy work.

I hate the shortening days, that provide little time for outdoor family fun after getting home at 4:45pm.

I hate seeing them stress about school, sports, seminary, and the other components of their life.

Happy:

But I am so happy for them.

They miss their friends and can't wait to return to see them.

They are excited to learn again.

To have a routine and schedule to their day.

Travis will still be working from home and so I will have unlimited access to him.

I will have separate and uninterrupted time to work on my school work.

In Between:

I can't say I am nervous about Coronavirus.  I wonder if I should be.  But I'm not.

School rules, regulations, and protocols seem unrealistic to follow through on, but I am encouraging everyone in our family to remain flexible, optimistic, and open minded.

There is a part of me that wants to stress out about all the unknowns, but mostly I still just have peace.

So may the odds ever be in our family's favor as we embark on the 2020-2021 school year!