A Change Is As Good As A Rest

Best.. Day. Ever.

2012-01-29T18:26:00.000-08:00

When I was a girl, when a young man or woman was leaving on a mission, we held a "farewell" sacrament meeting. It was a lot like a Mormon funeral--happy, with bursts of tears.

We no longer hold "farewells" per se, because the focus of sacrament meeting ought to be on the Savior and his teachings. However, the person leaving on a mission is usually invited to speak in sacrament meeting shortly before leaving on his or her mission. In that respect, today was Briana's "farewell." She was asked to speak on missionary work. She did a BEAUTIFUL job. Remember how I'm a lucky mom? Yup, I remember, too.

So many friends and family to came to our ward to support Bri, and after sacrament meeting we went home and had a light luncheon. It was standing room only at our house, and it was wonderful. All of our children had some of their friends come. Spencer's parents, his brother, and his sister (and their families) came, as did my grandparents and two of my brothers and their families. Spencer's aunt came, as did two of my uncles and an aunt. We had so many friends there (Hi, Giffords!)--we feel so incredibly blessed.

And THEN we all (ya know, the close family and friends) went to the Jordan Institute, where Taylor was ordained an elder. Glorious!

This was a total parents' payday, and I loved every minute of it.

Except now I'm overstimulated from the noise and really tired. It's 7:25 p.m. Good night.

Our Very First

2012-01-28T16:03:00.000-08:00

Before we were married, Spencer's dad took him to a dealership, where they bought a brand-new motorcycle. We finished paying that off AFTER we were married. And after we re-po'd it. That's a story for another day.

I don't think I've ever even stepped foot into a dealership. Except when I went with Jana to pick up her dad from work. I've been in service departments before; does that count?

I'd like all of you to meet Jessie:


We name our cars after Disney characters, did you know?

Color me happy!

(Don't judge me. I love this shirt!)

Sharing a Memory -- Day of Celebration

2012-01-27T13:51:00.000-08:00

It was actually the title of this post that brings me to today's memory.

In 2005 our Church celebrated the 200th birthday anniversary of the Prophet of the latter-day dispensation, Joseph Smith. As part of the celebration, youth groups all over the world were involved with activities to celebrate Brother Joseph's birthday.

In the Salt Lake City area, the Church produced a marvelous event called a "Day of Celebration." All of the youth of the area were invited to gather at Rice-Eccles stadium at the University of Utah, where there were all kinds of activities planned. The youth had been invited to participate in rehearsals, etc., if they wanted to be performers at this event.

One of the activities was a choir, and Taylor (who was 12) and Briana (who was 14) opted to participate in that. The choir--which was originally planned for 3,000 youth--was 15,000 strong. Imagine 15,000 young people belting out "Praise To The Man," and you can understand why I was thrilled when I was asked to also be in the choir as a driver of 5 young women and one young man (our Taylor). For many weeks before the DOC, we held rehearsals in The Conference Center. The rehearsals were fun because the choir director was funny and bold and talented and because of 15,000 young people belting out "Praise To The Man" (and other songs). They were also spiritual feedings. We were taught by members of the Seventy and Mack Wilberg (the director of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir) and others.

One evening we were practicing "Joseph Smith's First Prayer." The choir director was encouraging the young people to consider the words of the song. He said, "Our Father in Heaven appeared to a 14-year-old boy, and he called him by name. It's incredible, and it's all true. And THAT is why young men leave their homes and families for two years to go out into strange places throughout the world to wear suits all day and talk to strangers. THAT is why we choose to look peculiar to the world because we don't drink or smoke or use profanity. THAT is why we wear modest clothing. THAT is why." He then shared his testimony of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, which came through the Prophet Joseph Smith. It was a sweet, spiritual, beautiful, tender moment in time.

We had been seated by vocal parts, so I was sitting by the girls who I drove. I had told Taylor that I would meet him after the rehearsal by a particular pillar. To get to that pillar, I had to "swim upstream" against a lot of people walking the other direction. When I arrived there, Taylor was standing against the pillar. He looked at me, smiled as I approached, and said, "Ah, Mom! Did you FEEL that?"

The DOC was fabulous, and I'm so grateful that I got to participate. But my very best memory of all of it was that 2 seconds when I saw our son really "get it."

I Took A Day Off

2012-01-24T08:17:00.000-08:00

Taylor gets his wisdom teeth out today. Exciting, right? Well, he's excited about it, because it is the very last thing he needs to do to complete his mission paperwork. He meets tonight (THAT oughtta be interesting) with his stake president regarding receiving the Melchizedek Priesthood. Then President goes out of town for 3 weeks, so paperwork will still have to wait at least that long.

Anyway, the oral surgeon said Taylor should have a responsible adult with him for 24 hours after the surgery. Briana is going to take him and bring him home. I sacrificed (heeheehee) and took the day off work.

Responsible adult? Questionable.

But I'm here for you, Son!

It's Getting Real

2012-01-23T09:35:00.000-08:00

Yesterday the bishop informed Briana that ward conference is on February 12, so she gets to give her missionary talk next Sunday. We had family planning on coming into town, so we were going to have a luncheon afterward. I feel like since we already invited people we need to follow through on that, even though we doubt that people will come from out of town now. We are determined to go with the flow on this, because of course the most important thing is that Briana will share her testimony with our ward, friends, and family before she enters the mission field for 18 months.

Yesterday we went to Amber's for mission pictures. Because it's winter and because I was hoping for a more studio'd look, Amber gave me a great deal in exchange for letting her play around. She is fabulous, and I can hardly wait to see the finished products!

In the meantime, here is a little preview of Sister Briana Nicole Hill:

That beautiful woman is my baby girl! I am such a lucky mom.

The Older They Get, The More I Love Them

2012-01-21T13:42:00.000-08:00

Amy's post reminded me of several things:

1. There are eternal days when you are the parent of small children. These are the days people seem to forget. These are the days when you are 100% convinced that when people say, "Don't blink," they are completely high.

2. Having small children is incredibly physically demanding. You must get them out of their beds, change their diapers, get them dressed (often multiple times each day), bathe them, carry them everywhere, carry a lot of stuff with you everywhere you go, feed them, lift them into and out of cars and various other places, get down on the floor to talk to them at their level, etc., etc.

3. Sometimes being a parent doesn't seem like the decision was worth it. Even when you know in the long run it is worth it, there are many times when it doesn't seem like it.

4. Parents of small children miss the company of adults. Adults don't head-bang you, throw up on you, poop their pants, pat-pat-pat you to get your attention, throw their food all over the place, or call you "Mama" 400 times (even when you have answered them 400 times). Usually.

5. Having small children can be embarrassing to you. They might poop all over you just when you are supposed to close the meeting. They might call that very kind lady "Fat." They might use a word they weren't supposed to hear you using. They might sing really loud during the really quiet part of the movie or meeting. They could burp or pass gas loudly at any moment. They might pitch a fit in the middle of the store.

Sometimes these things are easy to forget, especially when you've reached a point with your children when they are completely capable of toileting, showering and dressing themselves, not only getting themselves into and out of a car but actually DRIVING themselves places, and holding a reasonable conversation that doesn't include tears or kicking or head-butting.

Fortunately, life has a way of helping you remember mostly the good stuff: the sound of a roomful of giggling children; the adorable handprint card they made for Mother's Day; the song they sang all by themselves or with their class; the stupid, funny jokes that made you laugh till your cheeks hurt; the times when you were exactly the person who could make the ouch go away; the moments when they reached for your hand or put their arm around you just because you were there; their testimonies shared, whether publicly or privately; the breakfast you got in bed; the day you woke up because your body was ready instead of waking to the sound of arguing; Christmases all about giving instead of receiving.

Of course there are a million things that are forgettable. But don't worry, there are also a million things to remember.

And in the meantime there are some of us who would welcome the chance to hang out for a few hours with naughty, screaming, laughing, adorable, lovely children. Call if you need me. Because it really did all go too, too fast.

And yes, I remember.

Announcing the Unannounced

2012-01-20T20:38:00.000-08:00

For a couple of months my boss has been working with the next high-guy to make a split in our division. He had to choose which side of the split he was going to sit on. I didn't have to decide; I just decided to stay with him. I had my hopes, however. Anyway, everything has to be approved by the Top Guys, and that just happened on Wednesday. My boss was leaving the country for a week and a half, so he decided to let it go, and everything could be announced to the division when he returns.

Except the managing director of one department got a bug in his bonnet to get the whole thing moving. So today they started tearing out walls and core drilling and pulling cables to create a new office on our floor. It was noisy. It was not discreet. It was messy. It interrupted conversations and phone calls and meetings. And most people had no idea what was happening.

So here's my official piece of the unofficial announcement: Dean and I will be moving to the SPD. I don't know when. I don't know who is going with us (about half of our division will go). We will move to the 10th floor, and HQF will move back to the 11th floor. There will be a new MFD controller. I don't know who that will be.

And now you know it all. Unofficially, of course.

Fear This Missionary!

2012-01-16T07:35:00.000-08:00

Taylor has had a heck of a time getting through his mission papers. It took him WEEKS to have his first bishop's interview, because he could not get hold of the executive secretary to make an appointment. When he finally got an appointment, the bishop re-scheduled twice.

Finally he was able to get his paperwork and get started. It took him two days to fill out all of the information. He got into the doctor, but he couldn't get a dentist appointment for 2 1/2 weeks. He called them after a few days, and they moved him up a week. When he got there he learned that he had lost two fillings, and one of them resulted in a cracked tooth. He had one new cavity. And he needs his top wisdom teeth removed. More waiting for appointments.

He called the stake executive secretary to schedule a time with the stake president. He thought that appointment was for last Sunday, but it was for yesterday. He waited all week, missed "Christmas" dinner with his grandparents, got to the stake offices, and... no stake president. He called the executive secretary, who rescheduled with him for next week.

This is our text conversation which followed:

Me: What happened to meeting with the stake president?

Tay: He wasn't there.

Me: So did you call?

Tay: Yes. Reschedule with secretary. Satan doesn't want me on a mission. He also doesn't want me to get the Melchidezek Priesthood. I don't blame him. I'd be scared, too.

Me: Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Tay: Dun dun dunnnn!!!

When this man gets into the mission field, look out!

A Story, An Observation, and Some Philosophy

2012-01-13T15:56:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I left work about 45 minutes earlier than usual. I waited for about 15 minutes for the train to come, but I was so glad that it was still light outside that I didn't even mind the wait. I got off the train at Courthouse to wait for the train that would take me home, and I waited there, too. But that was OK. There were lots of people laughing, the sun was shining (it was COLD!), and I was so grateful to NOT be at work that I just stood there patiently waiting.

The train came, and I got a seat (no small feat at 5:00 p.m.). At the next stop a man and his 8-year-old got on the train. The man was a bit short with his son, and that always makes me kinda sad, but he also told him he loved him and was just trying to keep him safe. We had traveled about 2 blocks when the train came to a very long stop. We moved about 50 feet and stopped again. Before we even got to the next stop, it was apparent that there was some kind of problem.

The trip from 900 S. to 1300 S. took about 20 minutes. During those 20 minutes I took a tiny (teeny tiny) power nap, listened to two young men talk about their majors and their missions, and listened to a woman say the f-word about 10 times. When we finally arrived at 1300 S. we learned two things: first, a pedestrian had been hit and killed by a Trax train at the very next stop; and second, our train was having mechanical problems.

We all got off the train. They uncoupled the last car and pulled it backward down the track to where the next train in line was already parked and waiting. They then re-routed the track and used what had been the middle car to pull the ailing lead car off onto the detour. Then they re-routed the track again, pulled the one car forward, and started loading people. That whole process took about 45 minutes.

45 minutes can be a long time. First of all, it was cold. Now, I'm not talking about Aundrea-is-cold-while-everyone-else-is-fine. It was COLD. Everyone was cold. I know this, because I heard about 25 different people utter one version or another of the phrase "It's cold!" Some people used the phrase conversationally, almost laughing as they said it. Some people threw in a number of expletives just so they could finally convey to all of us that it was cold, in case we didn't know (presumably).

There was one couple there who were clearly high, and the woman was seriously NOT in good shape. She needed to clean up in the worst way. WE needed her to clean up in the worst way. I think she used the f-word about every 3 words on average. Not kidding, here. The only way to ignore it was to focus on something else, like its frequency.

One man could have won a world record in how many complaints he came up with in 45 minutes. "That's what they get for having too many trains on the tracks." "How many more people will they kill?" "This is ridiculous!" "I think it would faster if I walked home." "How about we just do the job UTA is doing such a crappy job at, and PUSH the train ourselves." I left out all of his expletives. You're welcome.

I was really frustrated at people's lack of patience or kindness. But then I realized that the only differences between many of them and me was that my irritation was with PEOPLE rather than situations or an object AND I didn't say mine out loud. I guess that makes me the shallow person that you already know I am.

On the other hand, because I didn't speak my frustrations aloud, I didn't annoy the people around me. I didn't make a difficult situation worse through foul language or complaints or unkindness. And neither did many other people. It's just that the loud, obnoxious, rude ones are the ones who get the attention, ya know?

There was a woman whose husband was coming to pick her up. She offered another woman--a stranger--a ride home. There was a woman with two small children in daycare, who quietly called her daycare provider and offered her explanation and her sincere apologies.

When we got back on the train, it was just one car. We had previously been on 3 cars. It was packed! Again, many people complained. But most people were grateful to be on their way, to have heat, and to good-naturedly share smiles and sighs with their neighbors. There were so many people that I didn't have a handhold. At one point the train slowed abruptly, and my neighbor from behind held me upright while my nieghbor facing me grabbed my hand.

I believe most people are good. I believe most people are kind. I believe most people just try to make the best of their difficult situations. I believe most people try to help other people whenever they can. Some are not, and some do not. Which kind are you and I?

Life Lessons

2012-01-12T12:58:00.000-08:00

My next class is entitled "Leadership." In my reading last night I read that as managers gain more experience managing they learn and practice certain skills.

It made me think about what I've learned in my jobs. Here are my top three:

1. When you get soft-serve ice cream that is icy-ish, it's because the machine hasn't been cleaned for a while.

2. If you're in a car accident, don't sign ANYTHING from the insurance company until you feel that you are well.

3. If you want a free meal or hotel stay, scream loud enough for long enough till you get someone powerful enough.

Profound, right?

The Life and Lies of a Bathroom Scale

2012-01-11T07:52:00.000-08:00

Like many of you, I started on January 2 trying to take better care of my body. I haven't done a lot of working out, but I am committed to being nutritionally nicer to this temple of mine. I am not a weigh-in kinda girl (usually), but my doctor is hoping that the scale shows some changes, so I thought I'd get a baseline. I did that on Tuesday, January 2 (which I already said, but I wanted to reiterate).

On Monday, January 9, I got on the scale again. This was after nearly a week of being hungry, having a screaming headache (Hello, chocolate addiction. Thanks for coming.), and spending a lot of time in the bathroom (8-10 cups of water a day?!). Don't judge me. There's a point here.

On Monday, January 9, I got on the scale again (which I already said, but I wanted to reiterate. Again.). And that dang thing said I'd lost less than 1 pound. One freaking pound! How discouraging! I mean, it's not like I only have 5 pounds to lose, you know? I was ready to just throw in the towel, and keep eating all the things I love and just keeping gaining weight one freaking pound at a time.

And then I thought, "But I lost the equivalent of a pound of butter off my body. That's quite a bit of fat." And I also talked to my support group (Hi, Amber!). I admit it, I ate a few M&M's (because I'm doing BETTER, not being PERFECT). (P.S. Did you know that milk chocolate M's are 10 calories each?) And then I drank some water, popped a carrot into my mouth, and moved on to...

Tuesday, when I got on the scale again, on a whim, because I'm not a weigh-in kinda girl (usually). Only guess what? It showed that I had lost nearly 5 pounds from the baseline weight. I thought that couldn't possibly be right, so I tried again, and it said the same thing.

Basically I think the scale is on drugs, and I'm all kinds of tempted to get back on it every morning, just to play with its mind, ya know? Only remember how I'm not a weigh-in kinda girl (usually)? So I'm anxiously holding off till Monday the 16th to see what our high scale has to tell me. I gotta be honest here: I hope the 5-pound loss number shows up again. But if it does, how do I know if it's telling me the truth? Was the baseline number a lie, too? (I'm afraid not, but a girl's gotta ask...)

Landon Has a Girlfriend

2012-01-10T08:05:00.000-08:00

I got home last night, and Landon said, "Mom! Smell this!" He holds up his shirt for me to sniff. What I smelled was perfume and cigarette smoke. I wasn't sure if he was telling me his shirt smelled good or bad.

Girlfriend's mom stopped in to meet me when she brought Landon home last night. I wasn't there, but she met Spencer (and others), and was very kind and good and personable. Girlfriend, too, has been good and not dramatic (ya know, for an 8th grader) and kind to Landon.

Landon swears he is never getting married. Ever. Yet he has had two girlfriends, long before any of our other children have.

Can you sense my anxiety? Should I be anxious?

If Only Fat Were Water-Soluble

2012-01-09T14:23:00.001-08:00

I've been trying to make sure my water intake is what it should be. I could be losing so much weight.

'nuff said.

Love Me A New Scarf

2012-01-09T10:11:00.000-08:00

Whit is Briana's age, but closer to Ashtyn's size. She's a lovely woman, and she has very graciously given Ashtyn many pre-loved clothes. Ashie is always well-dressed (although for her birthday last year she asked if she could have just a FEW brand-new clothes). :)

Whit decided to move into an apartment with her friend, so she has spent the last few weeks going through her stuff, deciding what was good enough to be kept and moved and what needed to go. So Bri and Sass went to Whit's this week to go through the pile.

What I got out of the deal was a great bag (it's red and gold and it's perfect for my scriptures--hooray!) and a new scarf. I am not now, never have been, and never will be a fashionista. But I love how a scarf can put some color into any drab outfit.

Today's ensemble is black on black, with this GREAT purple-and-gray-with-leopard-print scarf. When I put it on for church yesterday I remembered a brooch of my grandma's that I have had in my jewelry box forever.

Aren't you glad I shared? Thought you would be...

Sharing A Memory. And Starting A New Year.

2012-01-08T14:22:00.000-08:00

When I taught preschool, a new year was always an eye-opener. For one thing, the children were always excited about everything we did and I was ALL kinds of cool. By the end of the year, that's not always the case. (Weird, right?)

The other thing that amazed me each year was the realization of just how much last year's preschoolers had learned.

And now I was starting over.

This year I am teaching the CTR 6 class. Again. These kiddos can't read yet. They don't know how to find scriptures. They don't know to BRING their scriptures. They don't know my name. They don't know that they are old enough to raise their hands and go to the bathroom between class time and sharing time. On the other hand, the prayer / line leader chart is exciting and I am very cool.

I'm so excited for the new Primary year!

Panic Mode

2012-01-07T17:06:00.000-08:00

My least favorite thing about the class I've been enrolled in since September is that I feel like every other week I am in panic mode. Each task has been difficult, and now I'm on the last task, the culmination of all the other tasks. It's huge. It's daunting. I went into freeze frame for the last two days. But today I decided to roll up my sleeves and just try to start.

It feels like I did a lot. It feels like I barely scratched the surface. It feels like I'm completely alone in this. Ugh!

Technically, I have till February 25 to finish this class. But the next class has team exercises (Guess what? I don't like team exercises. Clearly, I am not a team player.), and it starts a week from Monday. Oh, how I would love to be finished with Financial Analysis before Leadership starts.

Panic!

Happiness Is...

2012-01-03T14:27:00.000-08:00

Cute fingernails.
A great color of lipstick.
Texts from people you love.
Mail. Real life mail.
Email. I like that, too.
Laughing so hard your sides ache. Any laughter, actually.
Perfectly-popped popcorn.
A book of your choosing and a nice warm blanket.
Completing a project.
Lunch with a friend.
Burnt almond fudge ice cream.
Super-long icicles.
Tulips.
Snow that sticks to each individual branch and twig.
The sun so warm it makes your cells dance.
Children who wave at you, whether they know you or not.
Finding something you lost.
Giving the perfect gift.
Sleeping without interruption and waking on your own.
Crossing the start line and knowing you can do it.
Crossing the finish line and not having to do it any more.
Making your entire journey without having to stop at a red light.
NOT wearing nylons.
Family prayer when we're all awake.
A cancelled meeting. Better yet, a meeting NOT scheduled!
Clean teeth.
Itmes spelt cureckly.
All things Harry Potter.
Finding money in my pocket.

My life.

Happy New Year

2012-01-01T18:41:00.000-08:00

Last year I used my blog to "cheat" and see what I had done during the year. Today it struck me that I haven't given much thought to how the year went or what I hope/plan to do during 2012. So here I am, thinking things through.

One of the best things to happen this year was that I fell in love with my job. I was able to move past the disappointment of leaving my previous job and come to enjoy what I am doing. Of course, that all came AFTER I started my MBA. :) I guess I still don't really know what I want to do when I grow up, but maybe I'll be an administrative assisntant forever. An administrative assistant with an MBA, because Spencer won't let me quit. *rude!*

I don't know which came first--loving my job or loving the people--but whichever it is, I seriously love many of the people I work with. Celebrating the marvelous people helps me some with dealing with the people who drive me crazy. So goal #1 (which will be an ongoing thing forever, because I'm basically shallow) is that I am going to try to stop complaining so much, especially ab out people and the things they do. The good news is that there are many wonderful people doing a variety of marvelous things, so I will try to focus more on that.

Goal #2 is that school thing. *sigh* I wish I could say I love it, but I seriously don't. It's really, really hard to stay focused on school when there are so many other things going on at home. I'd really rather be watching TV or reading a book or even running (it's clearly January 1 :) ) than having to study. I think that realistically I will not finish school during the 2012 school year, mainly because of financial restraints; but I hope by the middle of 2013 to be completely finished and ready to walk.

Briana will leave on her mission on February 15th, and Taylor now just has to go to the doctor (tomorrow morning) and the dentist before his paperwork will be completed. We are seriously THRILLED with our children's decisions to serve the Lord as missionaries for our church, and we are filled with faith that everything will go well for us while they are away. I'm not sure how that is going to happen financially, exactly, but it will happen.

Which brings me to another goal for 2012: Get my spending under control. That is going to mean work on my part. I'll need to make lunches. I'll need to mend clothing. I'll need to make dinners. I'll need to plan gifts. I don't have the best track record, so this is going to be hard.

Of course, what look forward would be complete without the fitness stuff? Yes, I need to exercise. Yes, I need to get fit. As part of that, though, I REALLY need to be better about what I eat. Each passing year my metabolism slows, and I just can't eat all that junk that I never used to think about. Besides the weight gain, I know I would just plain feel better if my nutrition were better. This is also hard for me.

Looking back, I feel that 2011 was a beautiful year for us. We are incredibly blessed. I am optimistic that 2012 will be another fabulous year.

I Am a Pinterest Addict

2011-12-31T09:14:00.000-08:00

On vacation, this is how my mornings look:

Wake up. Whenever (glorious!). Let Marshall outside, then love on him a little bit when he comes back in. Grab a bowl of dry cereal, get back in bed, and turn on the computer.

Check my work email for anything interesting. (Hooray for Nanci! Hang in there, Amber. Hi, Dad! Thanks, Aunt Cathi!)

Go to my blog and check in on my friends and the people I stalk.

Check Facebook.

Pinterest. Pinterest for a while. Then a while more. Dream of all the marvelous things I can do to my house. Consider starting next year's ornaments. Think I should maybe get up out of bed and MOVE. Nah. Pin. Pin some more.

Yesterday I thought, "I should actually do something I pinned." Spencer said, "What's a vacation if you don't do something fun with your sister?" So Briana and I went to the craft store and came home with paper, card stock, buttons, and ric-rac. Also glue and adhesive. We set up the banquet table in Mom and Daddy's family room, and we made cards. My sister didn't make a card, but she visited with us, so that counts. Nio made a card. Seeley made several cards. Seeley's friend made a card. Seeley's friend's mom made a card. Ashtyn made some, Breezy made some, and I made some.

Now I can go on Pinterest and move a couple of my pins to the "I Did That" board. I'm cool like that.

There Are Times When I Can't Wait to Be Just He and Me

2011-12-29T22:25:00.000-08:00

Landon and Taylor are tired of this trip. They want to go home. Taylor is quiet about it. He just sits like a bump. It bugs me. Landon, on the other hand, is very vocal about it. It bugs me more. Today I told Spencer we should just let them go home. They are going to leave in the morning. Is it bad that I'm kinda relieved? The girls are opting to stay. I'm glad they want to stay, but frankly, it would have been OK if they wanted to go home, too.

We planned to spend today in San Francisco. We got on the freeway at 12:50 p.m. Since it takes close to three hours to get to SF and park, we didn't have a lot of daylight time. We had a nice dinner together at Wipe Out on Pier 39. We looked in some shops. We didn't go to Fisherman's Wharf. We didn't go to Alcatraz. We didn't go to Ghirardelli Square. We didn't really go anywhere, because nobody can agree. We did drive over the Golden Gate bridge and take the northern route home through wine country. It was actually a really fun time together, but it seems a shame to go to San Fran and not get to see much of it. The kids thought it was great, though. They'll tell their friends they went to San Francisco (which they did), and they will feel great about that.

On the flip side, my sweetheart took my hand in the car. Have you ever noticed how sometimes that is all you need?

You Know It's Time to Grow Up When

2011-12-28T22:44:00.000-08:00

Today we took our family to the Sacramento Temple to do baptisms for the dead. It was the first time we've all been in the temple at the same time. It was lovely.

Afterward we had lunch together. Five large bodies consume a lot of food.

We went to the Folsom outlets. The boys "shopped" for about a half hour. In a half hour, the girls had barely made a dent in the first store. Finally we found some sensible but cute shoes for Sister Hill. Then we went off to the next store. After trying on approximately 15 outfits each, we finally purchased a skirt, blouse, and dress jacket for Sister Hill, a pair of earrings for Sassy, and a blouse for me. The jacket was originally mine to try on. I looked cute in it. So did Bri. She won.

I talked couponing for 45 minutes with my sister. She is a master. She is inspiring. I just want her to do it for me. :)

The Spirit of Christmas, the Spirit of Christ

2011-12-27T11:18:00.000-08:00

On Christmas Day we got up earlier than we have in a while. That is what happens when you are spending Christmas with small children. We had a fun time watching the kids with their new toys and listening to their squeals of delight in what Santa Claus brought them.

We opened thoughtful gifts from one another. That is what happens when you are spending Christmas with older children. We laughed at one another and wept with gratitude.

Then thirteen of us took turns in two bathrooms, showering, brushing teeth, doing hair and makeup, getting dressed in our Sunday best. By 10:00 a.m. 18 of us were at Gramercy Court Care Facility, where my dad is the pastor each week in a short worship service. We took turns singing Christmas songs to the residents of that facility. Some hardly looked up. Others clapped and sang along. We passed out Christmas gifts (flashlights as a reminder to follow the Light of the World, small pictures of Jesus, and packets of Hershey's kisses) and shook hands and visited and said "Merry Christmas" dozens of time.

After about 45 minutes we changed into pants and went to North C Street, where ministries from the Sacramento area have set up all kinds of services for the homeless. There are women's shelters, a preschool, a place for men to get clean, kitchens, medical clinics. The City of Sacramento doesn't like this area. They are afraid that if they create an organized place, the homeless will congregate there. On this day, Pastor Joe's ministry was working with Loaves and Fishes to give sleeping bags and ground mats to the homeless. There were about 300 sleeping bags donated. We sang again, shook more hands, wished more Merry Christmases.

Then we followed Mo, who showed us the way he is spending his money, the way he chooses to minister for Jesus. We toured the facility where homeless women can sleep and leave their children in a safe place and earn their GED, all without leaving the facility. These women are told they are worthy of God's love, they are good, they are talented, and they are "potant!" When they graduate, they get to go into the closet filled with formal dresses and shoes and choose an outfit. A volunteer comes in and does their hair and makeup, and then they go downtown for a formal graduation ceremony. They have their picture taken and their story written and posted on the wall. (There are 800 of them!) Then they come back and start looking for work. Of the 41 (41!) women who graduated this fall, 22 got jobs. When they get an interview, they go into a different closet and choose a business suit and shoes to wear to their interview. They get a ride to the interview, during which they are told they are capable and worthy.

We saw people who were clearly mentally ill, mentally challenged, and/or addicts. We also saw people who were good and kind and happy and, incidentally, homeless.

Perhaps most impressive was Mo, who has been involved in this "ministry" for nearly 20 years. He, too, has seen many mentally ill people, many addicts. He chooses, however, to focus on the people who clearly need the touch of the Master's hand--those who need to be told and shown that they are worth good efforts; those who need a little help in order to get on their feet. He chooses to see in each face the face of one of Heavenly Father's children. He chooses not to be jaded by those who are criminals. He sees, instead, someone who might be brought into the fold of God.

Mo sees the truth. I have been touched and changed.

Merry, merry CHRISTmas.

In Which I Sing You a Song

2011-12-22T07:28:00.001-08:00

Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I love ya, Tomorrow!

AND...

2011-12-21T09:41:00.000-08:00

I can't wait for my parents to see the gift we made for them. Hooray!

T-Minus Two Days and Counting

2011-12-21T09:40:00.000-08:00

The closer it gets, the more excited I become. Hooray! We get to go to California for Christmas!

The Plan? you ask.

Tonight Spencer and I will drive to Mom and Dad Hill's to pick up Dad's Jeep. When we get home, I will start scurrying through chores. The laundry needs to be all done before we go. So do the bathrooms. We will deliver the last of our Christmas gifts and anything else that comes up.

Spencer is taking tomorrow off work to do all of his "dad" stuff like checking the oil and getting out the chains and spraying Rain-Off on the windshields. In the meantime the rest of us will pack clothes, gifts, movies, laptops (ya know, all the important stuff), and finally, the cars. Early Friday morning we will load ourselves into the cars and hit the road. Barring any trouble (at which event we will stop in some lovely town in Nevada), we will arrive in Sacramento on Friday night. We will call a cheerful hello to everyone who might hear us, including the people, the trees, and the rivers. Then we will go plop in my parents' noisy, full home and enjoy every minute of it. Daddy will play Perry Como (yuck!) and Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole and whoever else he can find. I hope we get out the record player, because I really want Jimmy Dean's "Jingle Bells" from childhood.

On Saturday we will work on the Christmas project we are bringing along, and on Sunday we will be involved in a couple of service projects that I can hardly wait to do.

After that, the plans are not made, but I'm sure we'll find SOME way to occupy our time. :)

Just. Can't. Wait.

Something Magical

2011-12-14T10:49:00.000-08:00

On "It's a Wonderful Life," we learn that every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings. My brother had a teacher who wished that every time a student passed gas, his or her hair would fly up and stay that way for a couple of seconds. My friend says sometime when she walks into her house and it's a mess, she folds her arms and blinks. (I keep trying that now, but it doesn't work for me.)

Today someone is doing something on their computer that makes it "bling" every few seconds. I think it must mean SOMETHING, but I have no idea what that is. It's probably something boring and predictable, but mostly I'm pretty sure it means Bill Gates just made another $100 or something.

I'm a Snob

2011-12-13T07:54:00.000-08:00

There are two women who I share a wall with at work. Since it's cubicals, I'm using the term "wall" very loosely. These two women speak with outdoor voices, especially if they are talking to someone out of state. It's like they don't believe their voice could carry all the way to INDIANA, so they have to yell to make themselves heard that far away. This irritates me.

I also get irritated with them when they discuss issues which should have been discussed behind closed doors. They may not have walls and doors, but there are offices and conference rooms all around which can be used. Once I was so uncomfortable with a conversation that was happening that I interrupted one of the directors (who was in a meeting with some other directors) so he could come make a suggestion that they move. It was embarrassing, and I wonder where their brains are!

However, the thing that bugs me the most is that they CONSTANTLY talk with their mouths full of food. It's so gross! They talk to one another, and they talk on the phone with their mouths full. Sick! Imagine if you were calling from INDIANA. Wouldn't you be 1) grossed out that they are chewing and talking in your ear, and 2) feeling unimportant because they didn't even bother to swallow before chatting with you?

In the end, this is my problem, not theirs, I suppose. I need to not let these things bother me.

But ew!

That is NOT my favorite!

You're My Favorite

2011-12-12T13:49:00.000-08:00

A week ago, Landon informed us that he had it figured out. I was really looking forward to hearing "it," because I've never figured "it" out. Here it is!

Parents have favorite children, just like he has favorite friends. And now it all makes sense.

As much as we tried to talk him out of this, Landon was not buying it. We explained that our favorite is usually just who we're with at the time. Sometimes one child is easier to like than another because of the good decisions he or she is making. But each one is unique, and it would be impossible to have a favorite.

Nevertheless, Landon is convinced (as are his siblings) that we have a favorite child. Namely, Briana.

Briana wasn't home when we had this conversation, but when she heard about it she said, "Huh! I thought Ashtyn was the favorite." Then, "Sweet! I'm the favorite."

At first this dismayed me, and I was ready to quit my job and be home every moment, making cards and scrapbooks and doing chores to convince each of the children that he or she is my favorite.

But then I started laughing, and I haven't stopped. In case you haven't noticed, there are many, many ways to differentiate about your favorites. Landon is our favorite BS-er. Ashtyn is our favorite high-schooler. Briana is our favorite lifeguard. Taylor is my favorite male singer. The list has become so long that now Landon just rolls his eyes when we tell him he's our favorite.

But maybe someday he'll just believe that he is our favorite.

(P.S. You're my favorite blog-reader!)

Sharing A Memory

2011-12-08T16:07:00.000-08:00

Sylvia Hansen was the Relief Society president when we moved into our ward. She was a former elementary school teacher--the kind that every kid and every kid's parent hopes they get. She had also been very, very ill a couple of years before, but through a miracle of modern medicine, regained her health.

That was the first year I was teaching preschool. Sylvia had been wonderful to share lots of ideas and lots of really cool "stuff" with me (my puppet show, everyone!). For Enrichment Night, Mary Ann got all the stuff so we could decorate gingerbread houses. Sylvia told me that she used to make graham cracker houses for all of her students and let them decorate. I must have looked at her like she was out of her mind, because she said, "Don't be a lazy teacher, Aundrea."

Yup, I am a sucker to peer pressure. Every year for the next six years I made about 20 graham cracker houses so that each preschooler could decorate a house. It took me (and various family members) all day on the Saturday before. We used 5 or 6 bags of powdered sugar, at least two cans of meringue powder, a couple of large boxes of graham crackers, and a couple of cake decorating bags and tips. Then I hid the houses in far places so they didn't get broken.

The kids' parents brought candy with which to decorate. I bought spray-on red and green frosting and gave each child a milk lid full of the stuff, along with a toothpick. I'm sure I sent more than one child home from preschool with a belly ache or at the very least a sugar high. But those were a huge hit every year.

My friend Sylvia got very ill again about a year after that first Enrichment Night. This time no miracle came, except the sweet release of death. She literally wore out her life in service to others, including me. I cherished her friendship and her example.

Now every year at Christmas I think of gingerbread houses, preschool children, the sweet smell of our house on gingerbread house days, and my dear friend Sylvia. Happy, cherished memories!

There Are Some Things that Succeed in Making Christmas Better

2011-12-07T13:11:00.000-08:00

1. Christmas on Sunday. It's beautiful, I'm tellin' ya. I love it. The Lord's Day on the Lord's Day. I love it, and I can hardly wait for Christmas Day!

2. Enough money to do something small for everyone. It's just no fun if you can't give.

3. Planning for #2. I bought the items to make our neighbor gifts back in July. Good call, Me!

4. Making gifts. I don't make all of our gifts, but it is really fun to plan and work on something (especially if it's not rushed). I spend a lot of time thinking about the person whose gift I'm making, and it's glorious, really.

5. Christmas music. I'm a humbug on the Christmas music if it's before Thanksgiving, but the next day, bring it on!

6. LIVE Christmas music. There's no shortage. Since I'm a sucker for any and all music, I enjoy everything from MoTab to elementary school performances. We've already been to one of Ash's concerts. We'll be at Taylor's (Sterling Singers) concert tonight. In 10 days we're seeing the West Jordan High School concert choir with the Salt Lake Symphony, and a few days later we'll see all of the WJHS choirs. As an added plus, Tay and his friends keep coming over to sing (Hi, Chris, Colton, and Logan!), and last night we got three planned, prepared songs. Bliss! Various high school choirs come to the COB to sing each afternoon. There are many talented kids, did you know? Someday our children will be grown and they will not be involved with a million performances. Don't worry, Voice Male/MoTab/Forgotten Carols/others, we'll come see you then.

7. Service opportunities. (Have I mentioned how excited I am for Christmas Day?)

8. Children. Children laughing. Children singing. Children dancing. Children playing. Children in cute Christmas Eve footie pajamas. Kids, you tickle me.

9. Grown-up men who are willing to go into an un-comfort zone to be Santa's helper. Santa, did you see those kids' eyes? :)

Merry Christmas, my friends!

Lessons on Service

2011-12-06T09:31:00.000-08:00

1. Truly meaningful service is rarely convenient.
2. Service is not service if you advertise that you did it.
3. Wise parents see in every need of others a way to bring blessings into the lives of their sons and daughters (Henry B. Eyring, "Opportunities to Do Good," Ensign, May 2011).

My mother is a MASTER at giving service. She willingly sets aside large chunks of time to do service projects (ask me about the dolls and the bags and the toiletries and the blood). Even more amazing to me is her ability to see what needs to be done. She walks into a home and just knows that ______ is what needs to be done. My brain doesn't quite work that way, and when I get home and think, "I should have done ____," it seems too little too late (though I often still call and offer).

But wait, it gets better. Not only does my mother SEE what needs to be done, she DOES it. She doesn't worry about spoiling her clothes or missing her show or who might or might not see what she's doing. She just sees the need, rolls up her sleeves, and takes care of it.

Be thou an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity (1 Timothy 4:12).

For the hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified (Roman 2:13).

So here's my (very serious) question: How do YOU see what needs to be done? And how do you teach your children to serve?

Have I Ever Mentioned How Much I Love Our Children?

2011-12-03T08:29:00.000-08:00

I get to give the spiritual thought in our floor's Monday devotional on the Monday before Christmas. I asked Taylor if he would like to come sing. So he gathered 3 other (male) friends, and they are going to come sing for us. They bought a bunch of music, and they are letting me choose which I want. I think I want "Away in a Manger" (in 4-part men's harmony? Yes, please!). So yesterday Chris and Colton were here to practice. Since Logan couldn't come, they used me on the piano and as 1st tenor (no easy task for a second soprano!). What beautiful, amazing, talented voices these young men have!

So we sat in our living room with our untuned (yet lovely) piano for over an hour, picking through music. Mmmm! I loved every minute of it. And I don't think I embarrassed Taylor even once. Success!

At 11:20 I finally said, "Class is over. I gotta go to bed." They all agreed.

What a lovely memory to take to bed with me!

Things on My Mind Today

2011-12-01T11:52:00.000-08:00

What should I give my brother and his family for Christmas?

My eyes itch so badly I want to scratch them out. Which means they are horribly red.

The Vampire Diaries. Has anyone read the book? Is it any good Does anyone watch the television show? I love it.

Quit school. Stay in school. Quit school. Stay in school. Etc.

Why do all of the HR employee request forms and the Purchasing requests come to me?

Pinterest. It's addicting.

Alls We Need to Do Is...

2011-11-30T15:47:00.000-08:00

Heard at work:

Alls we need to do is...
We heard back from the Bishopreec...
EVERYTHING was done in proper order, except...
(While looking at quilt frames): Is someone going to make a quilt?

Best. Weekend. Ever. (Until the Next Time, I Hope!)

2011-11-26T17:47:00.000-08:00

I love Thanksgiving. Have I mentioned that? I love everything about it. I love the colors. I love the food. I love the smells. I love making pies and apple salad with my kids sneaking Snickers into their mouths while Christmas music is playing. (See, Amy? My heart grew!) I love listening to the kids laugh at the table. I love my brothers teasing each other, and seeing everyone traipse outside to play Horse or Tornado, and I love watching everyone traispe back in, cheeks red and spirits high. I love feeling full and sleepy and just overall satisfied. I love Thanksgiving.

As if that was not enough to make this weekend glorious, today Briana was endowed in the Oquirrh Mountain Temple. I have been so excited for this. And I don't know why, but I was not prepared for the emotion that would come spilling out of me. Yesterday we went to the Distribution Center, where we purchased almost everything she needed for the temple. She chose a beautiful dress, and when she put it on, suddenly my little girl was a grown woman standing before me. It took my breath away.

This morning we walked in the temple door, and I told the brethren at the recommend desk that we were here for an endowment for the living. Immediately there was a lovely sister at our side, saying, "You must be Sister Hill and Sister Hill!" They checked our recommends, and Sister Jeanette Call took us to a verification desk for a few minutes. She then took us back to the dressing room. They gave Briana one of the brides' lockers, and it had a lovely calligraphic name sign on it with her full name. Sister Call was so kind to explain everything that was going to happen (for both Briana and me).

When Breezy was in initiatory, I got dressed, and then Sister Call took me to the new name booth. By the time Briana came back, I was ready to be with her. I helped her put on her white dress, and then sweet Sister Call took us to a small room. We were met by Sister Layton, the temple matron. Since Bri was the only sister being endowed on this session, it was just the 4 of us in this discussion (Sister Call at the back of the room, me next to Briana, and Sister Layton sitting knee-to-knee with Briana). Sister Layton explained the temple beautifully and simply and spectacularly. We are so blessed to have what we have and to know what we know!

When Sister Call took me and Briana to the chapel, we were thrilled to see so many people there to support Breeze: Uncle Derek and Aunt Becky, Aunt Laurie, Grandma Glenda, Grandma Ruth, Aunt Jenny, Mike and (Bestest Friend) Brittany, Wendi (Brit's mother, "Mama Silva"), Sami, and Stacy. Additionally, Uncle Gavin and Aunt Kimberly had told us they would be in the Sacramento Temple at the same time. Even if they did not make it, it meant a lot to us that they would think to do that.

Briana was very calm all through the endowment session. She participated in the prayer circle with her dad. They saved her for very last to come through the veil, and she started getting pretty nervous during that wait. I was second-to-last, and it was sweet to watch so many friends make their way to the front of the room. Breezy said, "I know there's nothing to worry about, but I'm kinda freaking out." She shed some tears (no one cries alone) and we snuggled.

Then it was my turn to leave, and I knew I was leaving Briana in good care with Sister Call. I entered the celestial room to find all of those people just standing there waiting for us. I greeted a few people, and then I just found my sweetheart, who held me while I cried for joy. Several minutes later, our daughter entered the celestial room, and I wish I could express the feelings of joy as she did. There was anticipation as we waited, listening intently for the knock that would signal that she was almost there; and I thought, "We will probably be waiting with this kind of anticipation when we are all dead, waiting for our daughter to leave mortality and join us again." Gives a very different perspective on death, doesn't it?

Spencer held Briana close to him for a very long time, and I thought my heart would burst with joy. Next it was my turn, and I couldn't help but say, "How will I let you go away for 18 months?" I hope that isn't discouraging for our beautiful daughter, who will be a wonderful missionary. I could not choose anything different or better for her at this time in her life. I'm so pleased with the choices she has made and is making. But my goodness! How will I survive it? It's not just pain at having our daughter LEAVING (although I admit it, there is some of that)--but it's also the joy that fills me so full I think I might actually explode. How will I survive it?

Briana had some time to hug each of the people who came to the temple with her, and we sat for a few minutes in the Celestial Room. Sister Call waited patiently till we were ready to leave, then she took us back to the dressing room. We got to go into the brides' room to fold our temple clothing. Sister Call took Bri to a very large full-length mirror, put her arm around her and said, "Do you have any idea how happy your Father in Heaven is with you today?" And I thought, "I bet I have an idea!"

After we left the temple (which we hardly wanted to do), Spencer and Briana and I went to lunch at The Olive Garden. Guess what our server's name was? Jeanette! Isn't that awesome? She was very kind to us, and we enjoyed ourselves completely.

And now for a memory: In 1990 I was pregnant with Briana, and my friend was getting married in the Los Angeles temple. It had been several months since we'd been to the temple because the Oakland Temple was closed for remodeling. As I sat in the endowment session, I had the sweet feeling that our family was all there with us. I could not count them, but I knew they were there. Even though I was terribly disappointed that I could not have more children, I had that same feeling when my sweet brother and his wife brought our 3 little ones to the hospital to meet their baby brother, Landon--the whole family was there!

Oh, how I pray that someday (and maybe many somedays) in mortality, our whole family will be with us in the temple. I know that we can be a family eternally. But my goodness! How will I survive that much joy?

Happy Thanksgiving!

2011-11-24T21:23:00.000-08:00

Breezy got home from Far Away Logan yesterday. This morning she and I and Spencer got up and went to run a 5K in our neighborhood. Thanks, Ulches, for a way fun time. Also, Suzie, we love, love, LOVED having you visit with us during our run! No pictures, which is a real bummer. But this is my favorite race ever!

We spent the late morning and early afternoon making pies, baking rolls, and cooking a ham. Unfortunately, as good as I thought I was, I am not cool enough to have had everything we needed, and yes, we made a run to Walmart. Packed. It was packed.

This evening, we did a little bit of this:

Our beautiful daughters

At the big kids' table--where the REAL party was. :)

Our men took clean-up duty (they learned that from Daddy)

Our children make me smile

Beautiful, beautiful girls!

All the boy cousins in Utah

All of the Utah cousins

Me, Tay, and my sweetheart

I left out the leg-wrestling, arm wrestling, stick pulling, basketball, food-food-food, ukeleles, drums, guitars, videos, visits, and massages.

It doesn't get better than this. I love Thanksgiving. I love my family. I love my life.

Tear Jerkers

2011-11-22T06:32:00.000-08:00

My dad sent a newspaper clipping that listed the readers' top-ten tear jerker movies:

1. Old Yeller
2. Bambi
3. The Notebook
4. The Green Mile
5. The Champ
6. Life Is Beautiful
7. The Color Purple
8. Steel Magnolias
9. Terms of Endearment
10. Beaches

To this list we have added:

1. E.T.
2. My Life
3. Return to Me
4. Charly

Of all of these, I'd have to say the three that made me cry the most were Charly, My Life, and Beaches. I haven't seen Terms of Endearment, but I've seen all the others.

Cast your votes for top three.

Getting in the Holiday Spirit

2011-11-16T15:05:00.000-08:00

My friend, Shana, asked me and a couple of other friends if we wanted to host a party for our work friends. We discussed it and decided that lunch was best because no one would have to leave their families or anything. Then we thought What if we did a service project as part of our party? So now the party is in the works! Courtney is making darling invitations (I have full faith in you, Courtney!). Kim and Annette are working on table decorations. Shana is shopping for quilt items, and I am doing what I do best. Everyone in the world is invited, because they are bringing their own lunch and treats to share. What's not to love about a party where I don't have to provide everyone's food for them? I personally will be sharing something salty-sweet, and you're gonna love it (and so am I).

It's a good thing we're doing a service project, because that last paragraph was clearly ALL ABOUT ME.

The point is that all of this festive planning has me feeling the Christmas mood more and more, in spite of the fact that I am boycotting FM100 till November 25th.

If you wanna feel the holiday spirit, come to our party. But first, listen to David's "Memories of Christmas."

Did You Know?

2011-11-15T16:40:00.000-08:00

Did you know that Kara Chocolates is based in Orem?

Did you know that Kara's mint chocolate is heavenly?

Did you know that hydroplaning (and therefore spinning) on the freeway is not only dangerous but EXCEEDINGLY FRIGHTENING?!

Did you know that when you have a near-death experience on the freeway with your 14-year-old son in the car, it is possible to pray 50 times in 5 seconds, begging God to protect your son?

Did you know that in those 50 prayers you also have enough time to say, "It's OK to take me," while you're begging Him to protect your son?

Did you know that when your children's friends give their missionary farewell talks your heart will throb with emotion and your eyes might leak a little bit?

Did you know that our "son" Tanar enters the MTC tomorrow?

Did you know that Briana is meeting with her stake president tonight to have her temple recommend signed?

Did you know that our oldest child will be 21 in a week and a half?

Did you know that our oldest child is probably going to be endowed on her birthday?

These are important things, and now you know

This Is a Test

2011-11-12T06:56:00.000-08:00

This week my phone went wacko. It would not send or receive text messages. It was frustrating and annoying, because I knew my children at the very least were texting me. It's what they do. I got stuck on a slow-moving train on Thursday morning and was going to be late for work AND an 8:00 meeting, and I could not get hold of anyone to let them know. (Dean! Pick up your phone!)

I was going to call Sprint, but I'm never sure which password they have for us, so I was waiting till Spencer or Taylor was home at the same time I was.

Last night we went to Lolly's school production of Bye-Bye Birdie (adorable, BTW!). I had turned the volume down, but the teacher in charge asked us to turn them OFF so they didn't interfere with the mics. Here's my lameness (#1): I didn't know how to power off my phone. Landon had to show me how to do it. (insert sheepish grin here)

After the play I turned my phone back on. Guess what? I received about 12 texts. Yup, you guessed it. Lameness (#2): Turning the phone off and on fixed whatever the problem was.

What is the very first thing techs tell you to do when there's a problem? Shut it down and start it back up. *sigh* I feel so stupid.

Here are my pent-up responses:

To Landon: What movie are you watching in school? Two days ago.
To Landon (again): I'll be home as soon as I finish reading this chapter. Two days ago.
To Ashtyn: Yes, I called the attendance office and excused your absence. Yesterday.
To Briana: I was freaking out at 8:00, too. Three days ago.
To Briana (again): Gary Indiana, Gary Indiana, Gary Indiana, let me say it once again. Three days ago.
To Briana (yet again): Persuasion. Yesterday.
To Stacy: Our kids should be there. You know--two days ago.

Heartache and Joy

2011-11-11T07:29:00.000-08:00

In the movie Pretty Woman, Vivian talks about how she got talked-down-to by a former boyfriend. Edward tells her that he thinks she’s an incredible woman, and she responds, “Have you ever noticed how much easier it is to believe the bad stuff?”

This week two missionaries in Texas were killed in a hit-and-run. Their parents received terrible phone calls that day, and my heart aches for them.

Every day dozens of young men and women leave their homes, headed to a Missionary Training Center somewhere in the world. Every day dozens of now-men and women leave the lands and people they've loved and served for 1 1/2 to 2 years to safely (and sometimes sadly) return to their homes.

So why does my mommy-heart latch onto the terrible? And could I respond with the faith that these young men's parents have displayed?

This week, Elder Holland taught us this truth: When we don't know the answer to something, we learn to lean upon what we DO know.

I know the Spirit of the Lord is bringing and will bring peace to these families, because He is real, as is God.
I know that God's perfect Plan will allow these families to continue through eternity.
I know that happiness is a choice, in spite of--and maybe BECAUSE of--adversity, trial, and heartache.
I know that we all have a happy ending in store, and death is not that ending.

My thoughts and prayers are with the families of Elder Trevor Reinhold Strong and Elder Derek Jason Walker.

Sister Briana Hill

2011-11-09T21:21:00.000-08:00

Our daughter received her mission call today. She will go to Indianapolis Indiana, entering the MTC on February 15, 2012.

We are thrilled!

Bri got a call from her cousin, Natalie, today. Natty bore her testimony to Breezy about the calling of Thomas S. Monson, who is a prophet of God. It was exactly what Briana needed to hear as she prepared her heart and mind to receive a letter in the mail today (she hoped). When the call came, she was happy.

Her dad and I are proud of our daughter's decision to serve the Lord as a full-time missionary. We are pleased that she listens to the Spirit of the Lord. We believe that she is being called to the place Heavenly Father needs her to go.

Everyone keeps asking if I am OK. Apparently mothers are supposed to be freaked out when their children are missionaries. Perhaps that will happen, but right now I am calm and happy and excited!

Vampires Are Real!

2011-11-08T09:36:00.000-08:00

Remember when Taylor was shot in the neck with a crossbow? Today my cubicle neighbor got a voice mail from my friend in the electrical shop. The "smart" software we are using--which tries to translate what was spoken into written language--told her that he was from the "blood trickle shop."

Destroying a Boggart

2011-11-07T10:19:00.000-08:00

There is someone here at work--one of my superiors--who I really don't like. I'm not afraid of him, per se, but it is definitely like walking on egg shells most of the time because he is GUARANTEED to start bullying at any moment. He's a diva. He's a brat. He's a bully.

But a conversation helped me figure out how to slay this boggart. I was imagining him wearing one of those talking dog collars in "Up" that translates so we would actually know what he was thinking. Only maybe we wouldn't want to know.

UNLESS he could also be in the Cone of Shame.

Sorry for mixing the movies, but I can hardly stop laughing.

Ridikulus!

I Took the Week Off

2011-11-03T06:52:00.000-07:00

So, I admit it. The thought of someone poking needles in my neck scares me. Know what is the most scary? The stories of people who got their vocal cords nicked, so they (the vocal cords) were paralyzed for however long (weeks, months, years), and the person couldn't talk (or sing!) for months or years. Can you imagine what a mess I'd be if I couldn't talk (or sing)?

Spencer's nephew offered us the use of his time share this week. The kids don't have school tomorrow (today's the last day of the term), so Spencer and I took Friday off, and we are all headed up the canyon.

These things, along with a bit of stress at work, made me throw my hands in the air. I emailed my school mentor and told him not to call me this coming Monday because I am taking this week off.

Bones (I loved Hannah. I was sorry to see her go.) and The Biggest Loser (Dolvett is AWESOME. Anna is not.) are all I've done at home, and I don't even feel the tiniest bit bad about it.

So there.

Update

2011-11-01T10:13:00.000-07:00

Hello, all! It’s November—sheesh! It took me till March to remember to write 2011 (instead of 2010)—how does it fly so quickly? The good news is that my favorite holiday is this month. I LOVE Thanksgiving. I love the food and the colors and the smells. Mostly I love gathering with family to give thanks. I love you all very much, and I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving month.

A bit of news at our house:

A couple of weeks ago I had a physical. While I was there the doctor thought that my thyroid felt enlarged, so he sent me for an ultrasound. The ultrasound detected a cyst on the right side of my thyroid and two nodules on the left side of my thyroid. Spencer and I met with our family doc yesterday. The cyst is just some fluid, and they are not worried about that at all. But the two masses need to be checked.

The doctor is sending me to see an endocrinologist (I hope to hear from them in the next few days to get things scheduled). I will have to have a dye test, which will help them determine if these nodules are “hot” – meaning they secrete a substance and can become malignant – or “cold”. They will also do a needle biopsy of both masses.

Our doctor said that the chances of finding anything malignant in the thyroid are less than my chances of getting hit by a bus. Do I have to choose one of those? Anyway, he said that even if there were malignant cells in my thyroid, they tend to be so slow-growing that it’s rarely a problem. In fact, he said, “I’d have this looked at within the next 3 to 6 months.” I am unwilling to wait, of course, but it is comforting that this is not a “We-have-to-move-quickly” type of scenario.

So we are calm, and we are just going to take each step as it comes. We are hopeful and prayerful that this will be much ado about nothing, but mortality happens. In the meantime, I would really appreciate your prayers as we move forward.

In other news, Briana’s mission papers were officially submitted this past weekend, so we hope to get a mission call within the next couple of weeks. She is having her call sent to her home in Far Away Logan, so we won’t be having a big letter-opening ceremony; but we will let you know the details when the call comes.

We love you all very much and pray that all is well in your homes!

Sharing a Memory -- Preschool

2011-10-31T11:28:00.000-07:00

It's been four full years since I owned/taught preschool, but there are just times every year that I think back and figure out what we would be doing.

Today is Halloween. I won't lie. It's not my favorite holiday; in fact, it's probably my LEAST favorite holiday. But children's excitement is contagious, children in costumes are adorable, and I know at least two Halloween rhymes (for your reading pleasure):

***
Halloween cat! Halloween cat,
Why do you meow and meow like that?
Neither I nor the moon likes your tune,
So, scat! Scat, Halloween cat!

***
Five little pumpkins sitting on the gate:
The first one said: Oh, my, it's getting late!
The second one said: There are witches in the air!
The third one said: We don't care!
The fourth one said: Let's run! Let's run!
The fifth one said: Isn't Halloween fun?
Oooo, went the wind and OUT went the light.
Those five little pumpkins rolled fast out of sight!

***

You're welcome. And Happy Halloween!

Sharing a Memory -- Don't Blink

2011-10-30T15:42:00.000-07:00

Nearly 20 years ago we learned that I was pregnant. Briana had just turned one, and we were thrilled. Having already had a "normal" pregnancy, we didn't think a thing about telling everyone that another little one was on the way. But just a couple of weeks after Christmas I miscarried. In the middle of the night, with my husband out of town on a work assignment, I left our daughter in the care of a sister-in-law while my mother-in-law took me to the hospital and held my hand while I cried through a D&C.

I came home and slept for several hours. My SIL offered to keep Briana through the day, but I was so grateful for that little girl that I asked her to just bring our baby home. Bri was still really just a baby herself--only 14 months old, but she brought me an incredible amount of joy and peace. She was also the PICTURE of normality, because babies don't know when Mommy's world has turned upside down; and normality was exactly what I needed. So we spent the next days watching Beauty and the Beast (400 times, at least), eating PBJs, and having horsie rides to bed. Daddy came home, and we moved forward.

A few months later, I was pregnant again. This time we were more careful about announcing it to the world. This time I waited a bit before going to the doctor so that it would be a more sure thing to hear a heartbeat. And this time the pregnancy was normal.

Our first baby boy was born just days past the one-year mark of that miscarriage. He was beautiful and healthy, and he cried all. the. time. for four months. But oh! how I cherished that little one. Which is not to say that there weren't times when I wanted to run screaming from the room. And I remember what it was like to feel like I might never have an adult conversation again. There were days when people would say, "Don't blink," and I'd think You clearly haven't had a day like I have had or you would know that the best thing you could wish for me today is for this day to END. I remember the diapers and diapers and diapers. And diapers. This is not something you forget, believe me.

Now suddenly it's been 21 years since that beautiful little girl first turned our world upside down, and nearly 19 years since that wonderful baby boy joined our family. There have been two more beautiful babies since then (stories for another day). There have been stitches and broken bones and broken hearts, flat tires and late nights and even move-outs.

Last night Spencer, Taylor, Ashtyn, Landon, and I sat at the dining table for a couple of hours and carved jack-o-lanterns. We didn't have to hide the knives, and everyone (mostly) did their own work. After I'd done some clean-up I went into our bedroom, where my phone was beeping with a message from Briana (because, remember, she's in Far-Away Logan) which said, "My mission papers went in today!"

I wish you joy. I wish you normality. I wish you nicknames coined by the children for their siblings. I wish you a few stitches and broken bones and flat tires (nothing major, of course). But let me tell you something:

Don't Blink!

The Kinds of Things that Make My Day

2011-10-26T07:20:00.000-07:00

Laughter: Monday night I was putting together all the things I needed to be ready for the morning. Clothes were ready. Lunch was ready. Running gear was ready. Phone was charging. I said, "What am I going to wish I had tomorrow morning?" Without missing a beat, Spencer said, "More sleep."

Friends: I had a meeting yesterday on my friend's floor, so I stopped to visit with Karleen. Carol joined us, and we spent 15 minutes visiting and expressing love and laughing. Best 15 minutes of the day... Until Karleen had to come to MY floor, so she stopped to visit with me. Two visits with my amazing and lovely friend in one day--plus Carol. Glorious!

Teacher's Pet: Dave just came to my desk with an apple and three pears from his trees, announcing, "An apple for the teacher!" I love the fruit. Even more, I love the friendship.

Autumn: It is darned cold in the mornings, but I love watching the leaves fall from the trees. It's just therapeutic to watch each individual leaf float down, until the ground is strewn with yellow, orange, or red. You should stop and watch the leaves.

Praying Aloud

2011-10-22T13:29:00.000-07:00

As a child, I learned about prayer first from my parents. We had family prayer and my parents helped me with learning to pray personally. I don't really remember them teaching ME, but we would kneel in our living room or in our bedroom, and we would take turns saying our prayers. They helped my little brothers and sisters learn the things to say to God. Often for me, prayer time was just a contest with my brothers to see who could say the coolest thing to Heavenly Father.

When I got a little bit older I got to go spend time with my grandparents. My aunt let me sleep in her pink (!) sleeping bag on the floor in her bedroom. I liked it better there than in any other place, even though other places even had beds. We'd get dressed and brush our teeth for bed, and then we would kneel at her bedside and silently pray. This was my first experience with praying silently, but I liked it. I liked feeling all alone with Heavenly Father, no one else listening. I don't know how old I was the first time I prayed next to my aunt, praying at her bedside; but I remember it. I remember loving the dark and the quiet and my aunt and my grandma and grandpa and my parents and my Heavenly Father. I've had many sweet experiences praying silently in the car or by the bed or at my desk or in church--and in thousands of other places.

Lately, though, I've found my mind distracted as I pray. It's probably a sign of age that I can't focus on anything quiet and still. But it IS quiet, and I can hear people walking around or the TV on or or the washer finishing a cycle or a car coming into the driveway or whatever. And I'm TIRED. So when I'm alone (because I still don't like everyone listening in on my private conversations), I like to pray aloud. Somehow it feels strange to start speaking--why is that? I don't know, but I think it's like Satan trying to bind my tongue and maybe my heart. Then I finally begin to speak, and little by little it becomes just a conversation. On my part, it's not pretty and flowery. My language is still "thee" and "thine", but my thank yous are "Thank You"s and I say things like, "I don't really know!" and I find myself almost begging for things. I'm not begging for houses or cars or jobs; I'm usually begging for the ability to forgive or to understand or for faith or for Him to watch over the people I love or to tell me what choice I should make. I tell him about my friends' and family members' predicaments, and I ask Him to give them what they need.

Invariably, I weep when I pray aloud. I think that's because of God's side of the conversation. I always feel loved. I feel heard. I don't feel dumb for the things I worry about, even when I know they are dumb. Sometimes I have a very clear thought come to me about someone I should call or something I can do for someone or something I need to do. Sometimes my to-do list is something big, but usually it is some tiny little thing like "Get tomorrow's lunch ready" or "You should review your Primary lesson." It's funny how those tiny little things that are really no big deal feel like a really big deal when you know that Someone who loves you and is listening to you is willing to remind you to do something.

Pray. He is there. Speak. He is listening.
You are His child. His love now surrounds you.
He hears your prayer. He loves His children;
Of such is the kingdom, the Kingdom of Heaven.

Step One...Suzie Said So

2011-10-19T11:27:00.000-07:00

...You must go to "Suzie Said So," where I am today's guest blogger. I feel so important now. :)

This is where I ramble for a minute, because you are not allowed to read further until you've visited Suzie. It's not a chore, I promise. Suzie is beautiful, talented, happy, and all-around wonderful. So if you get stuck on her blog reading all of her charming posts, don't forget to come back. I really want you to come back.

However, I don't want you to continue reading this post till you've gone and come back.

No cheating! You have to go there first or you will ruin all the fun, you Fun-Sucker (another bonus)!

Step Two: Check your answers

1. Aladdin
2. Pretty Woman -- Yes, I admit it. I've seen it. Unedited.
3. Meet the Robinsons -- Another admission: I've never seen this movie all the way through. The trailer is quotable, though!
4. Better Off Dead -- Totally dating myself with this one. But, wait. You've seen my picture. You already know I'm old.
5. The Incredibles
6. The American President
7. The Little Mermaid
8. Sleepless In Seattle -- Still my favorite movie of all time.
9. Aladdin and the King of Thieves -- It's been years since I saw this movie, but "Thor" has brought it back to life at our house
10. While You Were Sleeping
11. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
12. Cars
13. Sense and Sensibility
14. Toy Story
15. A Walk to Remember
16. Mulan
17. Apollo 13
18. Finding Nemo
19. The Princess Bride
20. The Emporer's New Groove

Bonus: 17 Again
Another Bonus: Freaky Friday

Step Three: Leave a comment and post your scores.

There are 20 points possible. 16+ is an A, and you can join our family. Unless you don't want to be called "pathetic." Whatever.

12-15 is a B, and you can come visit us any time. But bring your own popcorn.

8-11 is a C. You can visit, too, but we might send you running with Spencer.

4-7 is a D. This is the one where you get lectured by Mom (that's me).

<3 is an EPIC (pun intended) fail. But I still love you.

I hope you had fun, and I hope you'll join me for random fun again very soon!

Sharing A Memory...Named After:

2011-10-15T12:53:00.000-07:00

This post made me think about the discussions we've had about where our children's names came from. Each has its own story, and Landon is grateful he was a boy, because he hates the girl name we had chosen for him. Whatever.

When Taylor was two or three years old we asked him what his full name was. He appropriately responded, "Taylor Jon Hill." We asked him if he knew who he was named after. He got a very puzzled look on his face, thought for a moment, and said, "I was named after Briana?"

Yup. Right after Briana was named, Taylor was named.

P.S. He was actually named after my dad. And also, we loved that his name was almost like the prophet, John Taylor. But, ya know, "after Briana" is also true.

It Threw Off My Groove

2011-10-14T10:23:00.000-07:00

The director I (mainly) support is out of the country on business for a full week, beginning today. I've been saving projects to work on while he is gone.

But truthfully? I just really didn't want to come into work today at all. And I don't want to come in all of next week, either.

So on the drive in I gave myself a good talking-to. I'll spare you the entire conversation, but the gist of it is that I am a capable, confident woman who can do a good job and be helpful, even when I'm going to be mostly alone for a week. (sniffle)

And then the OTHER director called me into his office for our one-on-one.

He threw off my groove. Draw your own conclusions.

Sharing a Memory...Taylor

2011-10-10T12:02:00.000-07:00

In 1998, Disney released a new movie, "Mulan." Disney movies have always been a need. We did not forego seeing a Disney movie with our family for anything.

In 1998, Taylor was 5 years old. He sat cross-legged on the movie theatre chairs in the old Reel Theatre in Magna.

At about the halfway point in the movie, the Chinese army learns that Ping is actually Mulan, a woman, and they abandon her in the snow. As they marched away, 5-year-old Taylor blurted out, "Rude!"

We love Mulan, and we watch it often at home. There are many parts that are funny. But nothing is as awesome as a cross-legged five-year-old blurting out, "Rude!"

PDA

2011-10-07T21:31:00.000-07:00

Kayla probably thinks it's gross, but let me just give another shout out to Amber for her beautiful photography. Isn't my new blog picture great?

Yes. Yes, it is.

P.S. I love Spencer. I told him that when we dated, and it hasn't changed. If it does, I will let you know.

P.P.S. It won't change. The end.

Along Abbey Road

2011-10-04T13:53:00.000-07:00

My beautiful, amazing, talented cousin and blog-friend is selling some beautiful jewelry this month, in honor of breast cancer awareness month. You can see the button to the right--isn't it cute?

As you know, my mother is a breast cancer survivor. I also have an aunt who is currently undergoing radiation in her tooth-and-nail fight against this terrible disease.

Please consider visiting Along Abbey Road and purchasing one of these adorable necklaces. Not only will you be hooked by Abbey's charming style and wit, you will also be benefitting the Breast Cancer Research Foundation. Plus, you'll have an adorable, meaningful piece of jewelry for yourself and/or a friend.

In addition, make sure you're doing your monthly self-exams, dear lady friends. With early detection, breast cancer is curable in 99% of the cases.

Happy Breast Cancer Awareness month!

Sharing a Memory -- Haircuts

2011-10-04T10:55:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately, this subject is fresh on my mind.

Once upon a time I wanted layers added to my long hair, but I had no money. So I asked someone to help me out. She had cut hair before. Apparently that was in the 1960's, because what I got was a terrible Florence Henderson-Brady Bunch/Goldie Hawn-Laugh In look. It was awful! Spencer cut another 3 inches off the bottom, and suddenly I had short hair. Worst haircut ever. Lessons learned: You get what you pay for, I don't look too bad with short hair, and babies don't put short hair in their mouths.

My second worst haircut happened on Friday. This time I paid for it, which ticks me off. Spencer had to fix it again. (Maybe we could send him to cosmetology school next...) That was AFTER I made her re-do my bangs and she said, "What? You want both sides to match?" Not funny.

Chelsea! Come back! I need you!

There's a Reason I Hate Goodbyes

2011-10-04T09:45:00.000-07:00

The main reason I hate leaving is that I am SURE to leave something behind. If it gets left at my parents' home, it just has to stay there, unless they will mail it to me (sometimes it's worth it, sometimes it's not).

Seriously, I can't ever leave just once. It's maddening! From purses left at the in-laws' to bags left at church to tickets left on our counter, leaving is a chore for me.

Yesterday I left to go to lunch. I pushed the button and waited for the elevator to come. At last it came, and I rode 11 floors down to where the cafeteria is. That's when I remembered that my lunch was in the fridge. On the 11th floor.

Grrr...!

General Conference

2011-10-01T21:06:00.000-07:00

In the vernacular of my friend, Pam, and her daughter-in-law: I am a General Conference SLUT. That's right. I just can't get enough.

I first tried to watch Conference when I was about 12. I watched a lot, but I understood none of it. What the heck does "apostolic" mean, anyway? (This is a rhetorical question, kids. I already know the answer. But I didn't when I was 12.)

When I was 14 I was challenged by my seminary teacher (Hi, Brother Fuelling!) to watch Conference, and that's it. I've been hooked ever since. Some gems in the ensuing years: Elder Ashton's talk on gifts and talents, 1988; Elder McConkie's testimony of the Savior (1986ish); Sister Dew's talk on motherhood (2001 or 2002); Elder Bednar's talk on the Lord's tender mercies; President Faust's talk on self-mastery; Elder Worthlin's talk, "Come What May and Love It;" Elder Holland's talk on the Book of Mormon.

When we moved to California, we had to go to the Stake Center to watch General Conference, because it was only broadcast via satellite to select locations. My friends and I would pack picnics (as YSAs) and stay at the church all day so we could watch the entire conference without having to go home (which wasn't that far, but let's face it, Conference is even better when shared with the people you love. And partying.)

After our children were born, and we lived in Utah again, my sweetheart (who is the best man in the world--have I mentioned that?) would take care of the kids all weekend long so that I could enjoy every last word of General Conference. One year Elder Holland gave a wonderful, amazing talk DIRECTLY TO ME about being a mother. And I heard every word because Spencer made sure that I could.

The thing about giving Mommy this time was that our children grew up knowing that General Conference was something special. It wasn't really too long before they would either sit and watch with us or at least go outside to play so that we could hear. (It helped that I snapped at them, "I'm trying to listen to the prophet, if you don't mind!" How's that for love at home?)

One year at Christmas time I bought this beautiful counted cross stitch. I worked on it, and then it got tucked away. But it came out every Conference. For about 4 years. Seriously. I worked so long on this cross-stitch of Mary and the Christ child that it was worth every penny to have it professionally framed, and it stays on our wall year-round. And that, my friends, is how our General Conference tradition began.

Other families have traditions that center around food. My tradition centers around handicrafting. It's kinda the only time I really get into it, but for 8 beautiful, uninterrupted, glorious, spirit-filled hours, I work on some kind of handicraft. A couple of years ago Bri and I spent all of Conference weekend working on costumes for the high school play. I've made Christmas ornaments. Usually I do some stitching of some kind. Breezy has now joined me in the tradition. Remember this cute pillow? My birthday present began as a General Conference project.

Today I spent four hours stitching, listening, and crying tears of joy. Also, did you see that adorable Primary choir? Dang, I love those kids! (How about the boy whose white shirt sleeves hung clear past his fingers? Love it!)

The only bad thing about today is that it is over, so tomorrow is the last day of Conference. For another 6 months. *sigh*

On the up side, however, I have some CUTE crafting to show off!

Po-Tant!

2011-09-30T12:27:00.000-07:00

And also, I am featured HERE today. I've never been featured before...

Today's Goodness

2011-09-30T12:23:00.000-07:00

I took today off work because we were going to be driving to St. George. Even though I knew we were not going, I still took today off. The timing was awful, I have lots to do at work, and I should be there. But guess what?

That's what!

The laundry is nearly done. The kitchen is clean. The front windows are clean (inside and out). My hair is cut and colored. The deposit to the bank is made. And I bought 4 spools of embroidery floss (what exactly IS forget-me-not blue?) for $1.03 at Robert's, which is having EVERYTHING 50% off through tomorrow.

Breezy asked if we could all come spend the weekend in Far-Away Logan. Tay has to work, Spencer's kind of an invalid, and I just really want to veg in front of Conference all weekend (in addition to taking care of my sweetheart). So Ash and Lando are headed up for the weekend for a little weekend party time. Doesn't that sound fun? I think so, too.

Our life is sweet, rich, a tiny bit sick, full, and beautiful.

And P.S. 2011 in Utah is having THE most beautiful fall EV.ER.

Hugely Disappointing

2011-09-29T11:06:00.000-07:00

Spencer was up sick all night and ended up at InstaCare this morning. He has been diagnosed with a terrible infection, which is going to make him miserable for several days (in spite of the antibiotics).

Most importantly, though, it is going to preclude him from running the St. George marathon this weekend.

You might say, "Oh, there are lots of other marathons." If you are saying that, you clearly have neither trained for a marathon nor prepared mentally for a marathon. For the latter, timing is critical. For the former, timing is EVERYTHING. The two combined? Well...

Needless to say, my sweetheart is one sad runner, which is adding terrible insult to the proverbial injury (or illness, as case may be). Being sad myself is nothing compared to when the people I love are sad. *sigh*

Sick, Sick, Sick

2011-09-27T06:51:00.000-07:00

Sick: Ashtyn got sick and missed a day of school. It was only her 2nd missed day, and we are at Q.1 midterm. Everyone knock on wood--Ashtyn has been well for a long time!

Sick: Briana got sick, and she texts me heart-wrenching things from Far Away Logan, like, "Mommy! I want you!" What's a mom to do?

Sick: I got sick and missed church and the RS conference (hello and thank you, internet and amazing church employees, for taking care of me) and a day and a half of work (including today). I'm sure there's more I'm missing because my brain is definitely not firing on all cylinders. I often wonder, is it the illness or is the drugs?

Happy fall, everyone. It's a beautiful, beautiful time of year.

Here's hoping that this is my big cold for the coming season.

Sharing a Memory -- Grandma C.

2011-09-25T07:31:00.000-07:00

My dad's mother was widowed, and several years later she married another man who lived in the beautiful Heber Valley, so the family moved there. After some time, Grandma became pregnant with my aunt, who, as it turned out, is only 6 years older than I am. Grandpa built his sweet daughter a playhouse, complete with a dutch door, a "sofa" made from a car's bench seat, a small folding table, and various other wonders.

Much to the chagrin of the older children, the boy grandchildren were not welcome in the playhouse. The girls, though? Oh, the heaven of that wonderland! There were baby dolls and baby carriages and purses and china dishes and a washing machine and laundry to fold. It was glorious! There were only a few of us girls, and most of them were much younger than I. The next closest in age was 3 years my junior, but I loved it when both G and I could be at Grandma's at the same time.

My aunt and I were pretty good friends, too, in spite of the age difference. I suppose in many ways she was just putting up with me, but I sure loved to go spend several days at Grandma's!

Sometimes when we were playing in the playhouse, Grandma would come to the dutch door. She always wore a house dress and an apron, but she'd come with lipstick on, and gloves on her hands, and her purse over her arm, and she would say, "Ding dong! Avon calling!" We'd let her into our little home, and she would open her magical purse and bring out something so incredibly mom-ish that it was all I could do not to squeal in delight. Sometimes it was a bright red lipstick. Sometimes it was perfume that we could "sample." My favorite was when it was the Rose Milk.

Does anyone remember Rose Milk? My grandma was a die-hard Lawrence Welk fan (to this day, LW reruns take me right back to the basement of my grandparents' Heber home--heavenly!), and she believed in everything they advertised. Esoterica for her age spots, Geritol every day, and Rose Milk. Grandma always had two bottles of lotion in the window by the sink: the Jergen's was something we were welcome to use, but the Rose Milk was Grandma's alone.

So when our "Avon Lady" brought the Rose Milk, it was a special treat. She would carefully remove her gloves, put a spot of Rose Milk on my hands, and carefully rub it in, all the while telling me about the special qualities of this marvelous product.

She would take our order and wish us a good day. And then we didn't see Grandma again until she'd bring out lunch on a plate--sandwiches and a pitcher of water and usually some vegetables. Sometimes she'd stand outside the Dutch door and "call" us on the telephone. "Ring, ring!" she'd say, and we'd rush to answer the phone on the wall. "Would you like your lunch in the big house or here?" she'd ask.

I once went into Victoria's Secret, and they had a rose lotion. The moment I smelled it, the tears welled in my eyes as I longed for my grandma. Why, when she was so ill and incapacitated, did I not think to rub lotion into her hands or spritz her with a "special" perfume or dab a bright red spot on her lips? I don't know, but in our next life, that I one of the first things I want to do.

A Public Transportation Story

2011-09-23T07:29:00.000-07:00

I entered the train with three other people. One was a young (20ish), very clean, very cute woman. The other two were men, travelling together. One was pretty shabby with dredlocks (ew!). The other thought he was all that in his Nike shirt, with the short sleeves rolled back to show his tats.

We were heading toward the University, so the train was pretty full of young people. Tattoo-man was sitting across the aisle from Pretty Girl and straight across from his buddy. He was fairly pointedly ignoring his very uncool companion. As we traveled through campus, the train got more and more empty, and Tattoo-man moved to another seat (completely ditching his buddy) so he was facing the other direction (facing Pretty Girl).

Finally the two men were getting off the train. Tattoo-man walks up to Pretty Girl and says, "Hey, gorgeous. You dropped something. I think it was your smile." Then he swaggered off the train.

Well, those of us who were left there burst into laughter. Poor Pretty Girl turned 14 shades of pink and said, "Can you imagine if I brought HIM home to meet my parents? Ew. THAT would go over well." The man sitting next to me (in his 40's, probably) said, "Please, God, don't let my daughter ever bring someone like that home."

And also, was that a cheesy pick-up line, or what?

A (Short) Story in Pictures

2011-09-22T16:09:00.000-07:00

Today

rode

where I finally got to meet and hug

Both of these ladies are beautiful, so I feel

The end.

Sharing a Memory -- Landon

2011-09-22T07:16:00.000-07:00

Landon was just 2 years old when Grandma lived with us. The two of them were pretty great friends. Landon LOVED to do whatever he could to help Grandma. I would put her pills on a plate so he could carry them to her, then follow behind with a glass of water. He loved to carry her dinner plate in to her when she was too worn out to come to the table. She used a cane, and he would take it all the time. Finally my mother-in-law gave Landon one of the extra canes so he had one of his own and would leave Grandma's there for her use.

One morning I was standing at the kitchen sink when Landon walked in.

"Gomma fod," he said.

"What?"

"Gomma fod."

"Grandma fell?"

"Yah. Gomma fod."
Sure enough I hustled into her room and found her sitting on the floor against her bed. She had tried to seat herself on the bed, didn't get on far enough, and just slid down to the floor. Fortunately she was not hurt. But she would not let me try to lift her (she probably weighed 90 pounds). So I went back into the kitchen (where the phone was attached to the wall--remember those day?) and called my brother to see if he could come help us. When I went back into Grandma's room, Landon was plopped on the floor next to her, the two of them just waiting.

Sharing a Memory -- Grandma B

2011-09-21T07:33:00.000-07:00

Spencer's grandmother lived with us for about 6 months when she was in her 90's. She was not a sweet, kind, Mrs. Claus kind of grandma, but I loved her very, very much, and I learned many things from her as she lived in our home.

One day, 6 or 8 months after she'd left our home, I called her and asked if I could take her to lunch. I picked her up, and as we drove I asked how she was doing. She was rather melancholy that day, and she said, "You know, I'm lonely.

"My parents have been gone for years. I only have one sibling living, and he's my baby brother, living in another state. And every last one of my friends has died."

She then proceeded to tell me that Addie, who was her best friend through school in small-town Idaho, had died a few months ago. She and Addie had remained friends all through the years and had tried to get together once every year or two. They shared letters, mostly, because neither of them could hear very well on the telephone.

There are two things I learned from this. One thing I thought was that her "homecoming" when she died was probably very sweet. Grandma adored her mother, and I'm sure she was glad to see many of the people she knew and loved when she was a younger woman.

The other has to do with family and friends. It has to do with love. Grandma was never happy in her marriage, and she didn't even mention missing her husband. Because Grandma and Grandpa were so miserable, life for their two children was also fairly miserable. Grandma was survived by both of her children, but they were not a lot of comfort to her in her advanced age. Grandma also never went out of her way to cultivate friendships, so she was very alone. That's very sad.

Happy Fall

2011-09-20T10:14:00.000-07:00

The best part about fall is the colors.

Wouldn't you agree?

Random Thoughts

2011-09-19T21:32:00.000-07:00

Kayla, on the train the other day, this guy with a big, long goatee had a coughing fit. He considerately covered his mouth with his hand. Then he stroked his beard with the same hand. I don't even want to THINK about that nasty beard!

Briana, I love it when you come home. I'm sorry you have to sleep in the living room. The next time you come home for good, there will be a place for you. And also, thank you for letting me nap today.

Amber, I missed you all week. I'm glad you are feeling better.

Courtney, your blog makes me happy and giggly. If I play with a red balloon will I look as cute as you?

Noelle, what would the nurses at PCMC do if I showed up there?

Amy, what the heck IS a funnel cake? It doesn't look like what I thought...

Dr. Mackay, thanks for taking care of that cavity today.

UofU football team, would it be possible for you to add another version of "Shut Up!" to Jared. Maybe duct tape, for example. Thanks for what you did, though. (Sorry, Cougars.)

Stacy, I loved our run on Saturday. Thanks.

Primary class, you rock my world! And I love you.

Did You Know...

2011-09-16T10:05:00.000-07:00

...that noodles are the perfect comfort food? It's true. They are! Especially noodles with some substance.

Like ravioli, which is beautifully supported by yummy, soothing cheese.

Like a cool pasta salad (filled with veggies, please), which you have to chew and chew and chew, and each bite is filled with tangy goodness. It makes you smile just thinking about it, doesn't it?

Last night I had the best lo mein ever. Thank you Wok-King! I went to bed a very happy woman.

You'd Think SOMEHOW I Could Be Prepared

2011-09-15T14:09:00.000-07:00

But no. It just never happens.

Today, for example, dear boss asked (again), "Will these books be ready for the meeting on Monday morning?" All I could do was shrug and say, "Hope so," because I have procrastinated. Again. So I spent the morning scrambling to the desks of half a dozen people, asking them as sweetly as I could (with handfuls of apologies on top) for those reports that take all day to be on my desk by noon tomorrow.

I'd hate me, wouldn't you?

So--because I work with fabulously wonderful, professional people--the reports start piling on my desk. I could start putting them all together, except I have failed to go to office supply and pick up 10 binders. And now I am the lucky woman who gets to cover the phones for the remainder of the afternoon. The sad thing is that I might actually be able to get something done if only I had some binders to get started with.

Pulling it together: It just won't ever happen.

I should stitch that on a pillow...

Seriously Ugly

2011-09-14T09:46:00.000-07:00

It occurs to me that with a title like that, it might be fun to have YOU fill in the blank. Go ahead, blogging friends! What is seriously ugly?

**

And now forward to the real reason I decided to post. Hang onto your chairs--this is gonna be exciting (That's code for "Ya Might as Well Leave Now)!

On Sunday I was cutting up veggies for hobo dinners. I caught my thumb with the amazing Cutco knife and gouged it pretty good. It's not a very long cut, but it's at just an angle that it catches on things. As the skin dies, I'm cutting it back, but I still keep hitting it and causing it to start bleeding again.

The thing is, now it's healed enough that it doesn't even hurt when I pull it open. So I showed up to work today with dried blood all over my thumb. So far I haven't found blood spots on my clothes, but who knows?

My thumb is seriously ugly.

Thoughts About 9/11

2011-09-11T20:22:00.000-07:00

September 11, 2001, dawned like any other day. I had been a preschool teacher for a whopping ONE WEEK. At about 7:00 a.m. that day, my sister-in-law called me and told me to turn on the television.

Briana had band practice that morning, so I took her to school shortly after the awful moment that a second plane struck the World Trade Center. As we drove the .5 mile to her school, our 5th grader looked at me and said, "Mommy, what does 'hijacked' mean?" My heart broke a little bit at that moment, as I realized that there would never be a time when our beautiful, innocent children would not know any more what "hijack" or "terrorism" meant.

But off to school we all went. I had preschool and had to take care of a lot of 3- and 4-year-olds that day and for the next 2 days. Parents came and went, tears and shock walking in and out of our home like ghosts. And then it was Friday, September 14th. Friday was when I stopped and watched the news. Friday was when I listened to the tales of loss and grief. Friday was when I saw the aftermath. The rest of the world had been dealing with the horror for 4 days, but for me it was new and fresh and biting.

Friday was my day to get everything done. I was running errands in a haze of grief. All day. I remember crying at the drive-up at the bank, and the sweet teller shared her testimony of the Savior's loving care. Dear sweet bank teller: Do you know that it was you that helped me begin the healing?

On September 11, 2002, I took our children to the University of Utah to make a huge, human flag. Ironically, it was one of the most fun things we ever did together. But we remembered.

We still remember.

Homecoming

2011-09-11T20:14:00.000-07:00

That's our beautiful daughter, on the left. As beautiful as she looks in this picture, it's not as lovely as she is in real life. She's happy. She's talented. She's kind. She has balance. She has common sense.

She also has the tremendous talent of being able to do her own hair before a dance.

Happy Homecoming!

Lucky, Lucky Me!

2011-09-11T16:59:00.000-07:00

My friend and her friend spent about an hour with us last week. Both of them said, "Being with your family was so fun. I wish I had that." I wish they did, too. And I'm grateful we have it.

Our older son agreed to sing in church with me today. His voice is fabulous, and it was a blessing to sing with him.

Spencer said, "That was one of the best musical numbers I've ever heard in church." Landon said, "Not one of. The best."

Hobo dinners tonight!

Huge thanks to Joanne, our pianist extraordinaire; Suzi, a friend of 25 years, for bringing over a sweater for Ash; Jeri Lynn, who lent me her sewing machine AND came over later in the day to make sure I was still sane; and Kayla, who brought over her bolero jacket, just in case.

Also, huge thanks to all of you (special thanks, Daddy!) who responded to my last post. I'm still welcoming comments. I'm still trying to be teachable. I'm also feeling better.

I am incredibly blessed.

I Wish I Had a Big, Fat Chocolate Chip Cookie Right Now

2011-09-09T11:15:00.000-07:00

It is amazing how people's words can affect us. After a conversation this morning, I find myself (remember that capable, confident woman from a day ago?) questioning whether I am actually any good at my job. I wonder if people are constantly looking at me thinking, "She's unhappy and it shows in her work." I wonder if I really AM unhappy. I wonder if there is something wrong with me because I consider my job a JOB in a CORPORATION, not "building the Lord's kingdom." I wonder if meticulousness is a requisite for someone in my position. I wonder if meticulousness is a word. I wonder if I should be less confident--would that make me more capable? I wonder if it's really that important to think about this. I wonder if meticulousness or confidence or capability make me a better PERSON. I wonder if being a secretary or a teacher or a doctor make me a better person. I wonder if I should go home for the day, because canning peaches not only sounds more fun than PARs but might be more important and productive and person-building.

The person I spoke with used the phrase, "It is evident to me that..." and it's made me think about things that are evident to us. For example, we see someone who is disheveled and we assume that they are lazy or they live in filth and squalor. It is "evident" that there is something that is not right (by our standards). What is not evident, however, is WHY that person is the way he is. Maybe he's disheveled because he was up all night with a sick child and he overslept his alarm. Maybe he's disheveled because he has a mental illness and it was all he could do to get dressed and get out of bed. Maybe he's disheveled because there's been an emergency and he's trying to get there quickly. Maybe my version of disheveled is his version of put together. Therefore, it is evident that I should not draw conclusions or pass judgments on what I think is evident.

I believe it is my responsibility to work to become a better, more perfect person. I also realize that my perception IS my reality, and your perception is your reality. Now I am considering how much of this conversation I should internalize. I'm willing (and want!) to be the best I can be in my work. Do I have to reach a point of total fulfillment in order to be better (best) in my work? Does it matter? Is my perception skewed; should I try to have his perceptions more as my own?

Am I OK?

Please comment. Pretty please?

Worrying About What People Think

2011-09-08T13:13:00.000-07:00

I consider myself a confident, capable woman.

But yesterday I got onto an elevator (I was alone in said elevator), and immediately after the doors closed and the ride began it registered that someone with serious body odor had been on that elevator. Recently. (I hope.)

God answers prayers, y'all. Cuz no one else got on the elevator before I got off. AND there was no one waiting for the elevator when I got off.

So no one could blame me.

But still, I wanted to put a poster up--"I DIDN'T DO IT! P.S. Take a shower, please."

Wanna See Something Super Sweet?

2011-09-07T11:20:00.000-07:00

Check out ambersagersphotography.blogspot.com. My friend is wonderfully talented.

(And her subject matter is wonderful!)

Hilladay

2011-09-07T11:17:00.000-07:00

Having older kids is fantastic is every way except one: It is IMPOSSIBLE to get everyone to the same place at the same time.

And so--we held our Hilladay on Labor Day, which was the one and only day nobody had to work. It's also the day when all service opportunities are closed for the day.

So we slept late, ate a homemade breakfast together, cleaned up, colored some boxes for the Utah Food Bank, went to a dollar movie, barbequed hamburgers, and ate ice cream sundaes.

It was probably not the most memorable Hilladay for our children, but it was just what this mama ordered. And as everyone knows, if Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

Ah, bliss!

Back to School

2011-09-03T13:34:00.000-07:00

I took the last three month off in my schooling. Mainly it was to get my funding together, but it was also to psych myself back up for school.

Yesterday I had a phone call with my mentor. Today I got everything accepted online and found my way back into the class I technically failed last term. I got an assignment turned in and started on the last task for this class. I hope to complete it by the end of the coming week.

Next comes a big, fat Finance class, which has me a bit nervous. I am told by my mentor that it is, by far, the most difficult class I will take. Luckily, I am surrounded by finance wizards all day. It's important to know where to go to get help, right?

Please pass the No-Doze.

My Own Personal Roller Coaster

2011-09-01T09:34:00.000-07:00

I could get all metaphorical here, but fortunately (for you) I am not going to.

I used to be able to ride all roller coasters. Except for the ones where they lock you in a cage and keep you spinning and/or sitting for a long, long time. I don't do cages (which could also be metaphorical; but I digress).

There was a period of about 15 years when I did not ride a single coaster of any kind. And when I went back I learned to my dismay that there are many rides which I can no longer do. Anything that spins? No bueno! Even the up/down and speed stuff can only go on for a short amount of time. If I go too long (ride after ride after ride), I am guaranteed to be sick. And you can call me weird, but I don't like to be sick.

When Spencer and I cruise, I do okay while we are on the ship (although I do use the motion sickness patch). But it takes me about two weeks before the world stops rocking. It's kinda not cool.

Ten or fifteen years ago I started experiencing extreme dizziness or vertigo while I was at work. There I was, just sitting there at the keyboard, and the room would start spinning. It usually only lasted about 30 seconds, and then it was over. I didn't like it.

Yesterday I started feeling tippy. Not tipSY. Tippy. Like my world is tipping. Kinda like on a ship. It's almost a dizzy feeling, but mostly I'm just waiting for things to balance out again--like my center of gravity is off.

It's like having my own personal roller coaster.

Now you can get metaphorical if you'd like. Talk amongst yourselves...

A Remarkable Woman

2011-08-31T08:51:00.000-07:00

This week I was telling my boss/friend about this cool thing my mother did 5 years ago. I asked my daddy to send me some pictures of this epic adventure. What he sent was a photo essay. I share it with you below.

Before I begin, however, let me just tell you that bungi jumping is not even NEAR the top of the list of things that make my mother exceptional, remarkable, extraordinary, and magnificent. You should all get to know my mom. You would be better for it.

Bungi Africa sponsored this wonderful leap into the gorge below the bridge. The Zambezi River runs below. She showed no fear, just a whole bunch of excitement to do it. 04.25.06

The first three seconds were surreal, beautiful, slow motion and stunning!

She dropped 379 feet! The first big pop back up was incredible to see because after she hit the bottom the bungee cord took her back under the bridge to where we couldn’t see her, and then she came shooting out and up from under the span. Quite a sight to behold!

The second big bounce she came up squealing and looking up at us…

She was not the least bit worried or scared. She thought the rush of such a jump would be one of the coolest things ever, and sure enough it was – for her. We had about 30 on-lookers who cheered and cheered and a small Zimbabwe newspaper interviewed her after asking why a woman her age would do such a thing; normally reserved for younger people.

She said she thought it looked fun and then said, “And if my sons were here they would have gone with me, too!” Everyone had a good chuckle over that. We said later that if it were to be am adult family affair we thought perhaps Laurie, Maki, Kimberly and I would be the photographers while the rest would be jumpers. It’s a big jump into a deep gorge carved out by those mighty falls – one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World.

Her last words before jumping -- was a glance at the videographer and then she muttered -- “Sorry, Mom!” (…believing her mother probably would not approve of such a jump)

That's right! That's MY beautiful mom!

To a person, in our group – who had by then become family – they all hugged her and kissed her and told her how proud they were of her. Pierre Fourie, who had traveled with us the whole time as a guide, shook her hand, patted her on the back and said, “All I can say is you are one remarkable woman.” He needs to tell me something I don’t already know. She is a woman who just makes me thank heaven I was allowed to hook my star to hers. And she loved the whole thing from start to end…

This is the man who winched down about a hundred feet, got her upright, and then rode up with her. His first words were a sincere “Are you all right, Ma’am?”

She assured him that she was.

A Fabulous Night

2011-08-31T07:58:00.000-07:00

Spencer had a 10-mile run after work, and I had a manuscript to work on, so I knew I would not be seeing him for the night. But at 7:15 he said, "I'm starving. The kids are at their youth activities. How about La Luna?"

We had a tasty dinner, and the conversation was WONDERFUL. (I LOVE it when he wants to talk!) (And plus, he's my best friend, did you know?) (And also, he's really cute!)

When we got home, Ash and Landon and Logan were just getting home from YM/YW activities. Taylor and Lindsey were at the counter having some pizza together. We all stood and talked for a bit, and then I said, "I love you all. Very much. Clean up after yourselves. Make sure the cat is out. Open our door when you go to bed."

I worked on my manuscript while Spencer showered and prepared for bed. At 10:00 I turned off the lights and hit the sack HARD.

Best. Night. Ever.

Thinking of You!

2011-08-29T07:05:00.000-07:00

O Summer, Where Art Thou?

2011-08-23T14:02:00.000-07:00

*sniffle, sniffle* I'm always sad when our children go back to school. It's like some kind of rite of passage. Even though I've been saying for months, "Ashtyn is a senior," and "Landon is in 9th grade," there's something REAL about it when they actually step foot into the halls of WJHS and JPJMS.

Back in 1991 I walked into an elementary school (to meet with our foster son's teacher), and I came out of that building absolutely heartsick that someday I would have to send my Briana Baby (who was about 4 months old) into a place like that someday. Since then I've sent all four of my babies off to various schools, (Briana lives in Far Away Logan, for heaven's sake!) and I have spent hundreds of hours working and serving in schools, including one I owned, ran, and taught. I know that there are many, many good people who influence our children at school (thank goodness!). But somehow there is still some residual dread about watching our little ones--who aren't so little--take those steps.

One thing, however, that I do not do is GUILT for what we should have done during the summer. That is a luxury I allow myself since I work full time. Bottom line: I don't have time for guilt. On the other hand, this is much easier now that our children are older. If they want to go swimming, for example, they can GO without me. The responsibility for creating marvelous summer memories is not completely mine.

So, the kids have been swimming and camping. They've been to movies and parks. We've been to more reunions than we wanted to attend. We've eaten ice cream and frozen yogurt and slushies and s'mores. We've been to the mountains and to the city. We've barbecued and had hobo dinners. And we've laughed a lot. I'd call this summer a success.

But I still don't want them to go back to school. Does that make me weird?

The Kiss of Death

2011-08-22T15:10:00.000-07:00

There are many meetings with which to fill a day. The day will be busy. We might have short breaks to work on projects, but then another meeting will happen.

And then he does it. The Boss says, "This meeting will be short." And JUST. LIKE. THAT. there are no more short breaks. Because that meeting that was going to be short lengthened substantially, and now the next meeting is delayed. And the next. And the next.

Why does he do that? It happens every. time.

Remember Me

2011-08-17T11:16:00.000-07:00

In a meeting I attended yesterday, a speaker encouraged the audience to determine how we would like to be remembered. It motivated me to ponder the people (mainly professionally) who have influenced me and why.

This exercise led me to wonder how I am remembered in places I have left.

S&S: Young, inexperienced, young. Capable but YOUNG. A bit flaky. Young.
PM: The office has never looked better. What was her name again?
SLAH: Teacher's pet. Dependable.
USPO: Who?
LLPS: Loved our children. Happy. Talented.
2LL: Capable. Dependable. Knew everything. Laughed a lot. Bossy.
8: Unhappy.
11: _________(?)

After this I thought about people I may have influenced, for better and for worse. You know how you talk about your life's experiences and the people who were there? Am I the one who people say, "Oh, what was her name again? You know, the girl who:

(cried about everything)
(had a [pretty] [awful] voice)
(taught a [fabulous] [ridiculous] lesson)
(loved the children so much)
(thought she knew everything)
(always told everyone how to do everything)
(was always [dependable] [undependable])
(was so loud)
([could never be] [was easy to] please(d))"

How will you remember me?

Will you remember me?

Please remember me.

Homework

2011-08-12T10:24:00.000-07:00

This is what homework looks like when you grow up.

Not much changes after high school, really. There's still a boy wearing a splint on his arm. There's still a calculator, books, and strewn papers on a desk. (What you don't see is the snacks on the other surface.)

What HAS changed: hair color, hair amount, and comfort of the chairs. Also, the work building doesn't smell of pheromones the way a school does.

17 Miracles

2011-08-09T20:33:00.000-07:00

Go see it.

My Heart Took a Picture

2011-08-08T08:06:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Landon walked up behind Briana and gave her a hug. He said, "I love you, Sister." It's a miracle, really, and my heart took a picture.

Such a Great Weekend!

2011-08-08T08:04:00.000-07:00

You know the economy (at least at Boeing) is turning up when we can have parties again.

We went to Iceberg after the party.

I love this man.

Exciting Stuff for Landon

2011-08-08T07:44:00.000-07:00

This boy is seriously one of the funniest people I know. The kid has me laughing all the time.

A serious goofball, who is never seen without his headphones. Cutest kid ever!

He got a call early on Monday morning. It was the orthodontist's office, saying they'd had a cancellation and wondering if he'd like to come get his braces off. I was at work without a car, so Ashtyn and Logan accompanied him. "Don't worry, Mom," they said when they joined me for lunch. "We took before and after pictures."

Is it just me, or did he age about 2 years by losing the braces?

Trying to Share the Love

2011-08-08T07:16:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Blogger went really weird on us all. The end.

Since Blogger went weird, I cannot post comments on many of the blogs I've followed for years. Sometimes I can, though, which puts me in the same category as Pavlov's dogs--the intermittent reinforcement has me salivating and continuing to try to comment.

If you are one of the people I follow, please know I am here and I watch you every day. Ooo! Creepy!

Also, I love you. Aww! Sweet!

Please Pray for My Friend

2011-08-06T07:04:00.000-07:00

http://noelleplatt.blogspot.com/

If you haven't started following Noelle, you are missing out on some deliciousness in life. She's funny. She's intelligent. She's loving. She's human. She's in love.

She's also a new mommy to a beautiful, 6 pound girl named Emily. Emily has a heart condition (among other possible things). Fortunately she is in the capable hands of wonderful doctors and nurses; a large, loving family; her mommy and daddy, who walk by faith; and our Father in Heaven (who is surely wearying from the prayers in Emily's behalf).

Please join me in praying for a woman who has become my friend (and who I hope to meet someday), for her sweet, heaven-sent husband, and for their cherished daughter.

Twenty-three Years

2011-08-05T21:22:00.000-07:00

That's how long it's been since I owned a bed that belonged just to me. That's how long I've been sharing a bed and a bedroom with my best friend.

That's how long it's been since I spent every weekend hanging out with my girlfriends. That's how long I've spent most weekends with the same one person. Who is NOT a girl. At all.

That's how long it's been since I was NOT temple endowed. And that's not even CLOSE to how long I hope to spend with my family.

That's how long it's been since I lived with my parents, my three brothers, and my sister. That's how long Spencer and I have made a home together.

That's how long it's been since I worked at the yogurt shop. That is also how long I've had recurring dreams that I can't remember how to put the yogurt machine together. And there are customers in the store.

That's how long it's been since I earned my Associate's degree. It's also how long it feels till I finish my master's degree, but that's a different story for another day.

That's how long it's been since I saw most of my single's ward friends. Are any of you Citrus Heights 6th Ward circa 1986--1988 people out there? Thought not...

That's how long it's been since I kissed anyone goodnight at the door. Well, I mighta done that since 23 years ago, but if I did, I continued kissing him THROUGH the door. And down the hall. And into the bedroom. (Hey! Mind your own business!)

That's how long it's been since I had to eat macaroni & cheese, hot dogs, or bread & gravy. And I've never missed them.

That's how long I've been sweeping and mopping my own floors. Anyone wanna take over the next 23 years?

That's how long it's been since I wore a size 5. *sigh*

That's how old Spencer was 23 years ago today, when we were sealed in the Oakland California temple.

Twenty-three years is a long time. Twenty-three years was yesterday.

The Fly Who Won't Die

2011-08-04T17:05:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I opened the freezer door, and out flew a fly. I don't actually think he was in there; I think he was plopped on top of the fridge door and just fell before he actually started flying. He's an elderly fly.

But the stupid thing just keeps buzzing around. Last night he dive-bombed us in the kitchen. This morning it was trying to commit suicide against the bathroom mirror, with taxiing trips to my hair in between. This evening he's bugging me in my bedroom.

It's the same fly, I'm tellin' you, and it's getting really old.

Wouldn't it be cool if I could actually hit something with a fly swatter?

Funny Conversation

2011-08-02T21:22:00.000-07:00

Have I told you that I love my boss? I know I told you that with my former boss. It's true again, and it feels really good to love my job and the person I work with the most. Here is a funny conversation that happened yesterday.

Dean wanted to meet with David and David, but his meeting with David and David went too long, and David had to go so he could catch his bus home. (Anybody confused yet? Sheesh, people! Choose a name other than David, for goodness' sake!)

Dean: What is David's problem? He knows I would take him home!
Me: Waaahhh! Cry me a river, build me a bridge, and get over it.
Dean: People and having to catch their buses! I think it's just an excuse.
Me: I'd love to cry about this with you, but I have a bus to catch.
Dean: Before you go, send a quick appointment for 7:30 tomorrow to David and David.
Me: OK. But if I miss my bus, you have to take me home.
Dean: I'll take you home.

*texting*
Me: I missed it. I'm waiting for you on North Temple.
Dean: You did not. I'm on North Temple and you are not there.
Me: No you're not, because if you were you would see me. But don't worry, I contacted an escort service. They're sending someone to get me in 10.
Dean: I'm probably going to be here till 8. It might be worth staying till 10 just to see who they send.
Me: Not AT 10, silly. IN 10. I hope he's rich and hot.
Dean: Hot meaning he just got out of jail? Rich because he stole a lot of money?
Me: Hope not. He's here! Not rich, but hothothot. I think I'm going to invite him home with me. See you tomorrow.

Dean came into work this morning laughing. That's a pretty good way to start a day, don't you think?

Happy Anniversary to Us!

2011-08-02T21:12:00.000-07:00

This Friday is our wedding anniversary. Since Spencer is in charge of our finances right now, I have been waiting for him to give me some money so I could go get him a card and a gift.

But TODAY I came home to MY gift--A LAPTOP!!! I can't believe it.

I go back to school on September 1st. With as much time as he's been spending on house hunting and bill paying, I've been wondering how I was going to commandeer the laptop to do my schoolwork. But NOW I don't have to commandeer anything. I HAVE MY OWN LAPTOP!

I know, I know. Welcome to the 21st century.

DANG! I LOVE the 21st century!

Tidbit

2011-07-29T06:15:00.000-07:00

I had a massage last night. I have a great massage therapist. I tell him what hurts; he feels it out and works it out. Last night's massage was long overdue, and I would not call it relaxing. It was what I needed, afterward I was wiped out, and today I feel better. But I wouldn't skip straight to FUN.

Today's outfit choice was clearly a poor decision on my part. It's so bad, in fact, that I am wishing I had some (gasp!) HOSE to fix it a little bit. (That's bad, n'est-ce pas?) The hair is also bad today; thanks for redeeming me today, stupid hair!

I have a three-hour meeting scheduled this morning. Who plans a three hour meeting?

No one had signs out or had put anything on ksl.com to claim Jack and Jill. The boys took them to the West Jordan animal shelter. They will only keep them for a week. One week! Please pray that their owners find them!!!

TGIF, friends. TGIF.