As one of my Not So 90 Day Goals (yes, I just said Not So 90 Day Goals, because our group decided that we wanted our goals to end with the summer, so instead of doing a full 90 days we are doing not so many--- "Not So 90 Day Goals") I am keeping a Daily Tender Mercies Journal. I first heard about it in a talk given by President Eyring in the October 2007 General Conference. He shared this experience that has always stuck out to me about a prompting he received.
"I was supposed to record for my children to read, someday in the future, how I had seen the hand of God blessing our family... I wrote down a few lines every day for years. I never missed a day no matter how tired I was or how early I would have to start the next day. Before I would write, I would ponder this question: “Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch us or our children or our family today?” As I kept at it, something began to happen. As I would cast my mind over the day, I would see evidence of what God had done for one of us that I had not recognized in the busy moments of the day. As that happened, and it happened often, I realized that trying to remember had allowed God to show me what He had done."
I was so impressed with this story. Partly because it was the Dad of the home doing this, not the Mom. I know a lot of Moms who blog, or journal about their kids and their lives. But the idea of a Dad writing down the Tender Mercies he had witnessed for his kids future benefit really touched me.
Hint: To all of you Dads/Husbands out there who read my blog... crickets chirping... (ok, so maybe the only male who reads this is my own Man) if you start now- you would have 9 months of this to give to your Cute Wifie for Mother's Day and she would give you a big kiss and maybe cry and you would win big points at Girl's Night when she brags to her friends about the sweet Journal you made her and you might even get mentioned on my Blog for being that awesome... just an idea.
That brings me to Today's Tender Mercy... which start out as a Pain in my Tooth!
A few months ago Fresh-Out-of-Dental-School-Dentist determined I had a cavity that needed filling. This is my first cavity in well over a decade -almost two! A few days after the filling was done I was in a ton of pain and could no longer eat Peanut Butter M&M's. So I went back in for him to fix it. Which he did. Then a week later I was in pain again. So I went back in for him to fix it. Then a week later I was in pain again. Are you feeling like you have read the same sentence three times? By this point- I am angry. Not only am I unable to eat P.B. M&M's without pain (you will note that I did not give them up- just endured the pain) but I have to keep taking time to go back to the Dentist! Why can my Massage Therapist never mess up? I wouldn't mind going back for a massage every week till she "gets it right". But the Dentist? Every other week? And all he did - besides numb me, shoot me, drill me, and fill me - is give me a lousy Jamba Juice card "for my inconvenience". I wanted to get mad and complain. But the problem is- he is really nice, and young and I am bad at confrontation so I don't knot how to confront him. (Most of you know I have only two settings: Happy/Nice or Very Very Angry/Mean. No in between)
So today I went in. Again. He "fixed" it. Again. And I was mad. Again.
Then tonight, when I sat down to write in my Tender Mercies Journal, I thought of him. (and how I am angry but too scared to go Crazy Very Very Angry Katie on him) I asked myself what had happened today to show me that Heavenly Father loves me, or that I am blessed. And you know what thought came to my mind?
The time I was on my mission in Madagascar and I chipped my tooth drinking out of a glass bottle of Passion Soda (which is my favorite beverage of all time and is making me drool and tear up just thinking about) (by the way- in a 3rd World Country- it is probably best to never drink form the bottle...P.S. who likes my back to back parenthesis? I do.) There I was- in Madagascar with a broken tooth. My companion laughed at the idea of us finding a "dentist" to work on it. So I went to my make up bag, pulled out my nail file and took matters into my own hands. (who knew they would teach my Dentistry in Beauty School?)
So as I sat with my Journal I realized it isn't so bad to have to go back to the Dentist over and over and over again. At least I have Fresh-Out-of-Dental-School-Dentist to go to. It is better than taking matters into my own hands. Thanks Heavenly Father, for helping me to appreciate the Pain in my Tooth.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Parenting Regrets
We started out the day excited to make Strawberry Jam. We headed out in search of the last berries of the season (because that is the way we roll, unlike my mom who got us out early picking our own berries). After what felt like a scavenger hunt for berries we ended up with a flat of giant strawberries and a half flat of beautiful raspberries. I could almost taste the strawberry jam in my Swedish Pancakes and the Raspberry Sauce drizzled over my White Chocolate Raspberry Cheesecake. I could see me and my kids in our aprons hovering over the sink of washed berries. I could see myself pretending not to notice them sneaking berries into their mouths even though Blake's berry smeared cheeks would give it away.
It would be a wonderful day full of laughter, finger licks, and memories...
Until we pulled into our driveway. In the moment it took me to get out of my seat and round the car to scoop up the berries from the passenger seat my visions were shattered.
It was chaos. (ok, maybe not chaos, but I like the dramatic affect of that word) Riley was yelling, Blake was frantic and I was in shock.
"Mom!! Blake spilled the Blackberries!!!" (she meant Raspberries but the guy selling us the strawberries saw them and kept asking if they were blackberries, I used my amazing Spanish to spell out Raspberries for him - I am pretty proud of myself)
As I opened the door I found Blake kneeling on the dividing console between the front seats, up to his elbows in smushed berries. We have asked him before to not climb into the front seat, but Riley had hopped up to check her Lip Gloss in the review mirror (I don't know where she learned that...) and Blake had followed after her. Somehow, I am still not sure, he managed to knock the Half Flat of Raspberries all over the entire front of the car. He was frantically trying to pick them up, but the berries just squished in his pudgy little hands making raspberry juice all over the driver's seat.
I lost it.
The next thing I knew I was shouting. Kids were being hurled into the house to sit on the stairs in Time Out. As I stood surveying the mess that somehow covered the steering wheel, console, both front seats and the carpet on the ground (how could one half flat cover so much??) the anger grew. I saw the $15 dollars I had just spent on the berries, I saw the berry juice oozing, I saw the carpets staining, and felt my blood pressure rising. By now, the kids are all wailing inside the house. I am not sure if they were trying to wake up JT to come to their defense (but after working last night- he was pretty out of it) or to see if I would take pity on their sobs.
I tried to channel my Mother. I pictured her standing over a freshly baked cake that she had spent hours decorating to be an exact replica of the Boy Scout Emblem for my brother's Eagle Scout Court of Honor. She was staring at a broken water balloon that we had thrown over her cake and had somehow come down right on her cake. (why were even throwing water balloons in the house? good question.) That same anger was boiling under her skin.
But she didn't yell. She calmly told us and our friends to get out of the kitchen and go home. Actually I think it was more of a warning.
I pictured her coming home from a day of selling her crafts at a bazaar to a house that we flooded when we filled the tub for an Apple Bobbing Contest at my Halloween Party. And when I say filled the tub, I mean we forgot we were filling the tub and it ran over and all the way down the hall before we remembered. Again, no yelling.
I even picture her finding me, as an adult in beauty school, trying to clean up hot wax I had spilled on her living room carpet, where my sister-in-law and I thought it would be a good place to wax her eyebrows... Again, no yelling.
As these scenarios flashed through my mind I knew there was only one thing I could do. Go back into the house where my little children were sobbing on the stairs in time out- and yell some more!!
What is wrong with me? Why did it feel so good just to yell?! That is not what I saw as a child. Or what I want my kids to remember from "the Great Day we made Strawberry Jam". And yet, I did.
After about an hour the car was clean. To my surprise (and embarrassment) I got most of the raspberries out of the carpet and the little cracks and crevices. The kids were eager to help. Especially Blake.
Looking back at "the Great Day we made Strawberry Jam" I keep thinking of my parenting regrets.
That I yelled (not just raised my voice- but full on yelled) at my small children for an accident.
That I failed at the goal of all children: "to be better than our own parents".
That I missed a chance to snuggle and ask forgiveness from a frightened sad child.
and maybe most of all:
That I did not take a picture.
Because what was tragic, and frustrating, and horrible today-- would make a funny blog post tomorrow.
It would be a wonderful day full of laughter, finger licks, and memories...
Until we pulled into our driveway. In the moment it took me to get out of my seat and round the car to scoop up the berries from the passenger seat my visions were shattered.
It was chaos. (ok, maybe not chaos, but I like the dramatic affect of that word) Riley was yelling, Blake was frantic and I was in shock.
"Mom!! Blake spilled the Blackberries!!!" (she meant Raspberries but the guy selling us the strawberries saw them and kept asking if they were blackberries, I used my amazing Spanish to spell out Raspberries for him - I am pretty proud of myself)
As I opened the door I found Blake kneeling on the dividing console between the front seats, up to his elbows in smushed berries. We have asked him before to not climb into the front seat, but Riley had hopped up to check her Lip Gloss in the review mirror (I don't know where she learned that...) and Blake had followed after her. Somehow, I am still not sure, he managed to knock the Half Flat of Raspberries all over the entire front of the car. He was frantically trying to pick them up, but the berries just squished in his pudgy little hands making raspberry juice all over the driver's seat.
I lost it.
The next thing I knew I was shouting. Kids were being hurled into the house to sit on the stairs in Time Out. As I stood surveying the mess that somehow covered the steering wheel, console, both front seats and the carpet on the ground (how could one half flat cover so much??) the anger grew. I saw the $15 dollars I had just spent on the berries, I saw the berry juice oozing, I saw the carpets staining, and felt my blood pressure rising. By now, the kids are all wailing inside the house. I am not sure if they were trying to wake up JT to come to their defense (but after working last night- he was pretty out of it) or to see if I would take pity on their sobs.
I tried to channel my Mother. I pictured her standing over a freshly baked cake that she had spent hours decorating to be an exact replica of the Boy Scout Emblem for my brother's Eagle Scout Court of Honor. She was staring at a broken water balloon that we had thrown over her cake and had somehow come down right on her cake. (why were even throwing water balloons in the house? good question.) That same anger was boiling under her skin.
But she didn't yell. She calmly told us and our friends to get out of the kitchen and go home. Actually I think it was more of a warning.
I pictured her coming home from a day of selling her crafts at a bazaar to a house that we flooded when we filled the tub for an Apple Bobbing Contest at my Halloween Party. And when I say filled the tub, I mean we forgot we were filling the tub and it ran over and all the way down the hall before we remembered. Again, no yelling.
I even picture her finding me, as an adult in beauty school, trying to clean up hot wax I had spilled on her living room carpet, where my sister-in-law and I thought it would be a good place to wax her eyebrows... Again, no yelling.
As these scenarios flashed through my mind I knew there was only one thing I could do. Go back into the house where my little children were sobbing on the stairs in time out- and yell some more!!
What is wrong with me? Why did it feel so good just to yell?! That is not what I saw as a child. Or what I want my kids to remember from "the Great Day we made Strawberry Jam". And yet, I did.
After about an hour the car was clean. To my surprise (and embarrassment) I got most of the raspberries out of the carpet and the little cracks and crevices. The kids were eager to help. Especially Blake.
Looking back at "the Great Day we made Strawberry Jam" I keep thinking of my parenting regrets.
That I yelled (not just raised my voice- but full on yelled) at my small children for an accident.
That I failed at the goal of all children: "to be better than our own parents".
That I missed a chance to snuggle and ask forgiveness from a frightened sad child.
and maybe most of all:
That I did not take a picture.
Because what was tragic, and frustrating, and horrible today-- would make a funny blog post tomorrow.
Monday, July 11, 2011
well, now that's embarrassing
You know the time you read my blog about how I am living my dreams of traveling and helping others who are less fortunate? The one where I was so excited to try to speak Spanish and spend a week in Bolivia?
Oh, what? You don't really read or remember my Blog posts? Oh, well, now that's embarrassing for me also.
So- those of you who DO read this Blog from time to time and were really excited for me and my adventure... we have some bad news.
We are not going after all. It is so hard to go from telling the world that I am excited to do something to turn around and say-- "well, actually...."
But as we prepared for it- something just did not feel right. I worried and prayed and tried to figure it out. I tried to rationalize the feelings and continue as planned. But the more I did that- the sicker I felt. We did not feel true peace about the whole thing until we firmly decided not to go.
We don't really know why. It is frustrating when you get a prompting and never know why. I hope that there is a reason. And I hope that it becomes clear to us. But for now- we will go with our gut and just stay home.
On the happier side-- JT did find out he is #1 on the Wait List for Rochester University. So I guess there is still the chance that someone will drop out and we will be headed off on an adventure to New York... Keep your fingers crossed. :)
(and that would be a really good reason not to go to Bolivia)
Oh, what? You don't really read or remember my Blog posts? Oh, well, now that's embarrassing for me also.
So- those of you who DO read this Blog from time to time and were really excited for me and my adventure... we have some bad news.
We are not going after all. It is so hard to go from telling the world that I am excited to do something to turn around and say-- "well, actually...."
But as we prepared for it- something just did not feel right. I worried and prayed and tried to figure it out. I tried to rationalize the feelings and continue as planned. But the more I did that- the sicker I felt. We did not feel true peace about the whole thing until we firmly decided not to go.
We don't really know why. It is frustrating when you get a prompting and never know why. I hope that there is a reason. And I hope that it becomes clear to us. But for now- we will go with our gut and just stay home.
On the happier side-- JT did find out he is #1 on the Wait List for Rochester University. So I guess there is still the chance that someone will drop out and we will be headed off on an adventure to New York... Keep your fingers crossed. :)
(and that would be a really good reason not to go to Bolivia)
Friday, June 24, 2011
It was the BEST of times....
It was the best of times, It was the worst of times...
Charles Dickens really nailed it when he wrote those words. I recently reread A Tale of Two Cities by Dickens. We read it in High School (but I was slacking off and just skimmed it) and it was my best friend's favorite book (or so I thought until this afternoon) and so I decided I would see what the fuss was all about and reread it. I loved it. It may be one of my new FAVORITES! It has everything - suspense, romance, deceit, and real vocabulary words that you can't find in the young adult section of the library that I have been reading lately! lol
But this is not a book review. This is a life review
Aforementioned "best friend" (that is right, in honor of Dickens I used a fabulous word like aforementioned) came to visit today. Lisa and I have known each other since 6th grade. And by our Senior year of High School we were pretty much inseparable - until the day she left for BYU. I was devastated. And to make it worse her roommate was none other than Ashlee Riding (whose HS boyfriend played Baseball with my HS boyfriend and I was under the assumption that she was a bit snobby...) But soon they were having the best time in Provo while I was struggling to keep things on track in Washington. (that's right, Ashlee was stealing my Bestie!! I think we are still fighting over her today!) So - I packed up my car and moved to Provo (I was planning on attending Beauty School in UT, but ended up moving back here). For the next few months I did EVERYTHING with Lisa and her roommates. It was a good time for me to sort out where I wanted my life to go.
I think we could have applied Dickens' phrase "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times" to that Freshman year in Provo. I think we each went through our own struggles and faced some of our own demons. But we had each other. (and dances at "the Wilk" to take our minds off of things) But that Phrase might be even more true TODAY.
I REALLY thought that ALL my PROBLEMS would be OVER when I got married. In fact Lisa and Ashlee both got married about 6 years before I got around to it, and I envied them. I thought that Life was HARD for those of us who were single- still LOOKING for "the One" But today- after everyone left my house to go to their own families (instead of staying up all night in the dorm room) I realized that LIFE IS STILL HARD!
It is a DIFFERENT kind of HARD now. We each have our own struggles. And are still facing our own demons. And yet- it felt WONDERFUL to be together again. It DID feel like THE BEST OF TIMES! Their "big kids" were thoughtful and patient with my little kids. We still like eating brownies right out of the pan! Although I think we use to eat Ashlee's Jello Cake out of the pan back then. We still talk about the same things... although instead of Dances at the Wilk it is Zumba or Yoga at the Gym! We still LAUGH and LOVE EACH OTHER. (even though we don't just live to two blocks away)
And EVEN THOUGH we have struggles (some REALLY HARD struggles) I think we can still smile and say it might be the WORST of times- but it really is STILL the BEST of TIMES when we are together!
Right HERE I should insert an awesome picture of us all with our arms around each other back when we were kids. But you know me better than that...
So you will just have to picture two REALLY CUTE BLONDS who look almost IDENTICAL (to the point that Blake could not tell them apart today!) and then me. (wah wah)
And you'll have to think of YOUR OWN BESTIES (I just heard that phrase the other night and now I can not stop using it! I thought BFF was good, but Bestie?! it's awesome!) and think of how you survive your Best and Worst times together, and then get sentimental and call them and tell them you love them and were thinking about them because some girl with a blog was blubbering about her friends and it made you miss yours. (By the way, Ashlee, I said think of YOUR OWN bestie-- not mine! JK I think I have decided we can both SHARE Lisa... since I don't think I will win that one)
ANYWAYS -- Really do love you both, Lisa and Ashlee. You are both women I have ALWAYS admired and loved and been grateful to be friends with. I don't think I would be where I am today without friends like you that have seen me through some of my WORST of times and my personal demons and continued to love me.
It IS the BEST of Times.
Charles Dickens really nailed it when he wrote those words. I recently reread A Tale of Two Cities by Dickens. We read it in High School (but I was slacking off and just skimmed it) and it was my best friend's favorite book (or so I thought until this afternoon) and so I decided I would see what the fuss was all about and reread it. I loved it. It may be one of my new FAVORITES! It has everything - suspense, romance, deceit, and real vocabulary words that you can't find in the young adult section of the library that I have been reading lately! lol
But this is not a book review. This is a life review
Aforementioned "best friend" (that is right, in honor of Dickens I used a fabulous word like aforementioned) came to visit today. Lisa and I have known each other since 6th grade. And by our Senior year of High School we were pretty much inseparable - until the day she left for BYU. I was devastated. And to make it worse her roommate was none other than Ashlee Riding (whose HS boyfriend played Baseball with my HS boyfriend and I was under the assumption that she was a bit snobby...) But soon they were having the best time in Provo while I was struggling to keep things on track in Washington. (that's right, Ashlee was stealing my Bestie!! I think we are still fighting over her today!) So - I packed up my car and moved to Provo (I was planning on attending Beauty School in UT, but ended up moving back here). For the next few months I did EVERYTHING with Lisa and her roommates. It was a good time for me to sort out where I wanted my life to go.
I think we could have applied Dickens' phrase "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times" to that Freshman year in Provo. I think we each went through our own struggles and faced some of our own demons. But we had each other. (and dances at "the Wilk" to take our minds off of things) But that Phrase might be even more true TODAY.
I REALLY thought that ALL my PROBLEMS would be OVER when I got married. In fact Lisa and Ashlee both got married about 6 years before I got around to it, and I envied them. I thought that Life was HARD for those of us who were single- still LOOKING for "the One" But today- after everyone left my house to go to their own families (instead of staying up all night in the dorm room) I realized that LIFE IS STILL HARD!
It is a DIFFERENT kind of HARD now. We each have our own struggles. And are still facing our own demons. And yet- it felt WONDERFUL to be together again. It DID feel like THE BEST OF TIMES! Their "big kids" were thoughtful and patient with my little kids. We still like eating brownies right out of the pan! Although I think we use to eat Ashlee's Jello Cake out of the pan back then. We still talk about the same things... although instead of Dances at the Wilk it is Zumba or Yoga at the Gym! We still LAUGH and LOVE EACH OTHER. (even though we don't just live to two blocks away)
And EVEN THOUGH we have struggles (some REALLY HARD struggles) I think we can still smile and say it might be the WORST of times- but it really is STILL the BEST of TIMES when we are together!
Right HERE I should insert an awesome picture of us all with our arms around each other back when we were kids. But you know me better than that...
So you will just have to picture two REALLY CUTE BLONDS who look almost IDENTICAL (to the point that Blake could not tell them apart today!) and then me. (wah wah)
And you'll have to think of YOUR OWN BESTIES (I just heard that phrase the other night and now I can not stop using it! I thought BFF was good, but Bestie?! it's awesome!) and think of how you survive your Best and Worst times together, and then get sentimental and call them and tell them you love them and were thinking about them because some girl with a blog was blubbering about her friends and it made you miss yours. (By the way, Ashlee, I said think of YOUR OWN bestie-- not mine! JK I think I have decided we can both SHARE Lisa... since I don't think I will win that one)
ANYWAYS -- Really do love you both, Lisa and Ashlee. You are both women I have ALWAYS admired and loved and been grateful to be friends with. I don't think I would be where I am today without friends like you that have seen me through some of my WORST of times and my personal demons and continued to love me.
It IS the BEST of Times.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Should I stay or should I go?
Should I stay or should I go now?
Should I stay or should I go now?
If I go there will be trouble
And if I stay it will be double
So come on and let me know--
SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO?
Who knew that the Clash would be singing lyrics that are so relevant to MOTHERHOOD?
Here is the question of the day- WHEN TO LEAVE THE PARTY?
Anyone else have a problem with rounding up there little ones to leave a party, or a park, or Grandma's house, or ANY event that IS NOT HOME? It is DRIVING ME NUTS! I am starting to consider NOT GOING to fun things because I KNOW LEAVING will be AWFUL!! Often I try to avoid going places in the evenings without JT. It is SO much more exhausting for me to get the kids rounded up to go home when I am on my own. (and feeling like "the bad guy") But this has transferred over into EVERYTHING. Play dates at friends'. Going to the Park. Even going to Fred Meyer! WHY is it that LEAVING anything is such an ordeal??
I have been TRYING to figure WHAT the MAGIC TIME is for the TIME TO GO? I can tell you when it is EXACTLY 5 minutes AFTER the TIME we SHOULD have LEFT... because that is when it goes from "Having Fun" to "Absolute BREAK DOWN". But I am only aware of that when the BREAK DOWN happens.
So the only TRUE INDICATOR that I can see for WHEN I SHOULD GO- is WHEN I AM JUST STARTING TO RELAX.
You know the point when everyone has been fed, when they have settled into an area to play that is keeping their interest, when I have sat down and am actually in a conversation that doesn't necessitate a referee or a time out, when I am thinking to myself "Now THIS is why we came!"
THAT IS THE POINT WHEN I SHOULD JUST GET UP AN GO.
Because it is always 5 minutes into that adult conversation, that peace and quiet, that relaxation - that the BREAK DOWNS BEGIN and I realize it is a half hour past bed time and we still have to load into the stroller and walk home.
SO- NEXT TIME we are at an "EVENT" together. (Whether that is the zoo, the park, or even just your home) and you see me settling in and starting to relax... PLEASE SIGNAL ME and TELL ME TO GO HOME. :)
SO- NEXT TIME we are at an "EVENT" together. (Whether that is the zoo, the park, or even just your home) and you see me settling in and starting to relax... PLEASE SIGNAL ME and TELL ME TO GO HOME. :)
Thursday, June 16, 2011
THE Father's Day Post
This is a TRICKY one seeing as how I have more than one father in my life. How do I say everything I want about each of them?
The first most obvious Father is the Father of my Children. *sigh* I just smiled thinking about him. That shows just how much I love that guy. When we were dating I SUSPECTED he would be a Good Dad. He loved his little sisters and they adored him. He was eager to meet my nieces and nephews and patient as they all climbed on him. He was adoring to me, so I figured this would probably flow over onto our children. But I really had NO idea...
I didn't know then that when he held Riley for the first time in the Hospital that the whole room would tingle and glow. I didn't know that he could look at anyone the way he looked at her. I didn't know that he would be better at changing diapers, rocking to sleep, packing a diaper bag, and wearing a baby front pack than I would ever be. I didn't know that he would glow the same way when he held his son the first time. Or that Blake would soon replace his brothers as his Best Friend. I didn't know that he could find so much joy in wrestling, taking walks, and reading stories. I didn't know he would get so excited for things like swing sets, family nights, and the world's best stroller! I didn't know then that he would come home after working a 12 hour shift through the night and NEVER be grumpy with me or his kids. In fact he would even be excited to see us, get us breakfast, or just snuggle. I didn't know then that being a "Good Dad" also meant being an amazing partner for me and make me a better mother. I didn't know it would make me fall even deeper in love with him.
Really, I should have known by meeting his dad. JT has a really special relationship with his own dad. I have NEVER heard him speak an UNKIND word about his father. NEVER. (which I just realized is a trait he shares with my own dad who I have never heard be negative about his own father!) He really is JT's hero. He taught him a love for sports, and ALL things outdoor. He taught him a love of family and service and hard work. He taught him to honor his Priesthood and his Temple Covenants (which means more to me than any lesson he could have learned) He taught him to laugh and have fun. In fact, one of the first memories I have of his dad was them Wrestling in their house! This shocked me! They were grown men wrestling over furniture! This taught me how laid back my Mother in Law is to let her "boys be boys" but also how much my Father in Law loves to have fun.
Wednesday night, when our Washing Machine broke (which is a whole other post) my father in law was here at 11:00 p.m. to help JT fix it. This is not the first time he has been here in the middle of the night to rescue us. (he was the one I called when our dishwasher flooded right after we bought our house) As I sat in the kitchen listening and helping when I could (by retrieving flashlights and m&m's) I was really touched. I don't think his Dad knows a whole lot about Washing Machines. But he came right away because he loves his son, and he LOVES working with his sons. I think they actually ENJOYED working on the washer together! I am so grateful that he always let JT help him around the house and on the cars and other projects. I see this so often as I watch Blake and Riley carrying tools around to assist JT in whatever project he is working on. From hanging pictures, to changing locks, to mowing the lawn, and washing the cars, he always has helpers and is so patient as he teaches them what he is doing.
But he is not the only Dad I have called when I need rescuing. In the MTC I remember feeling like I needed some support from home. I wasn't sure what I needed until my dad wrote me a letter asking me about the ins and outs of the Mission Life. I agreed to send him letters with details if he would send me letters about his own mission. These proved to be the BEST letters I received my entire mission. My companions and I enjoyed reading the amazing stories from his mission. From traveling in a VW bus to eating yogurt off of the rooftop. It was a strength to me- and I am not sure if he even knows it. He also TRIED to teach me a love of sports, of camping, and working. Unfortunately I was not as receptive as JT was with his dad! But he hung in there and I can proudly say I DO NOT "throw like a girl" and I am a decent shot with a basketball thanks to him. One of my favorite Dad Memories was when he took me to buy my first car. A baby blue 1965 VW Bug. *sighs again*. He was so excited for me. I think he was proud of me for earning and saving enough money to buy my "dream car". I vividly remember that he was as excited as I was- and that meant so much to me! I also remember a time when I was younger and really struggling. I had made some big mistakes and I was scared to tell my parents. I knew I needed to tell them, so I called one afternoon from out of state to talk. It was the hardest conversation I have ever had with them. I prepared myself to hear the disappointment in their voices, maybe even anger. Instead I will never forget my dad's response as he gently told me how PROUD he was of me! Did he hear me wrong? No. He said he knew how hard this was for me and he was proud of me for coming to them. no anger. not even disappointment. just love. I think I have underestimated the power and depth of my own Dad's love for me. What better lesson could he teach me than unconditional love and forgiveness?
And how could that not make me think of my Heavenly Father on this Father's Day?
The TRUE example of what every Dad wants to be.
The Father that is ALWAYS patient. Always forgiving. Always understanding. Always listening. Always building. Always blessing. Always giving. Always knowing. Always teaching. Always loving.
No wonder I have such amazing Fathers surrounding me! JT, his Dad, and my own Dad. They all have the best example to follow.
Happy Father's Day. I love you all so much.
The first most obvious Father is the Father of my Children. *sigh* I just smiled thinking about him. That shows just how much I love that guy. When we were dating I SUSPECTED he would be a Good Dad. He loved his little sisters and they adored him. He was eager to meet my nieces and nephews and patient as they all climbed on him. He was adoring to me, so I figured this would probably flow over onto our children. But I really had NO idea...
I didn't know then that when he held Riley for the first time in the Hospital that the whole room would tingle and glow. I didn't know that he could look at anyone the way he looked at her. I didn't know that he would be better at changing diapers, rocking to sleep, packing a diaper bag, and wearing a baby front pack than I would ever be. I didn't know that he would glow the same way when he held his son the first time. Or that Blake would soon replace his brothers as his Best Friend. I didn't know that he could find so much joy in wrestling, taking walks, and reading stories. I didn't know he would get so excited for things like swing sets, family nights, and the world's best stroller! I didn't know then that he would come home after working a 12 hour shift through the night and NEVER be grumpy with me or his kids. In fact he would even be excited to see us, get us breakfast, or just snuggle. I didn't know then that being a "Good Dad" also meant being an amazing partner for me and make me a better mother. I didn't know it would make me fall even deeper in love with him.
Really, I should have known by meeting his dad. JT has a really special relationship with his own dad. I have NEVER heard him speak an UNKIND word about his father. NEVER. (which I just realized is a trait he shares with my own dad who I have never heard be negative about his own father!) He really is JT's hero. He taught him a love for sports, and ALL things outdoor. He taught him a love of family and service and hard work. He taught him to honor his Priesthood and his Temple Covenants (which means more to me than any lesson he could have learned) He taught him to laugh and have fun. In fact, one of the first memories I have of his dad was them Wrestling in their house! This shocked me! They were grown men wrestling over furniture! This taught me how laid back my Mother in Law is to let her "boys be boys" but also how much my Father in Law loves to have fun.
Wednesday night, when our Washing Machine broke (which is a whole other post) my father in law was here at 11:00 p.m. to help JT fix it. This is not the first time he has been here in the middle of the night to rescue us. (he was the one I called when our dishwasher flooded right after we bought our house) As I sat in the kitchen listening and helping when I could (by retrieving flashlights and m&m's) I was really touched. I don't think his Dad knows a whole lot about Washing Machines. But he came right away because he loves his son, and he LOVES working with his sons. I think they actually ENJOYED working on the washer together! I am so grateful that he always let JT help him around the house and on the cars and other projects. I see this so often as I watch Blake and Riley carrying tools around to assist JT in whatever project he is working on. From hanging pictures, to changing locks, to mowing the lawn, and washing the cars, he always has helpers and is so patient as he teaches them what he is doing.
But he is not the only Dad I have called when I need rescuing. In the MTC I remember feeling like I needed some support from home. I wasn't sure what I needed until my dad wrote me a letter asking me about the ins and outs of the Mission Life. I agreed to send him letters with details if he would send me letters about his own mission. These proved to be the BEST letters I received my entire mission. My companions and I enjoyed reading the amazing stories from his mission. From traveling in a VW bus to eating yogurt off of the rooftop. It was a strength to me- and I am not sure if he even knows it. He also TRIED to teach me a love of sports, of camping, and working. Unfortunately I was not as receptive as JT was with his dad! But he hung in there and I can proudly say I DO NOT "throw like a girl" and I am a decent shot with a basketball thanks to him. One of my favorite Dad Memories was when he took me to buy my first car. A baby blue 1965 VW Bug. *sighs again*. He was so excited for me. I think he was proud of me for earning and saving enough money to buy my "dream car". I vividly remember that he was as excited as I was- and that meant so much to me! I also remember a time when I was younger and really struggling. I had made some big mistakes and I was scared to tell my parents. I knew I needed to tell them, so I called one afternoon from out of state to talk. It was the hardest conversation I have ever had with them. I prepared myself to hear the disappointment in their voices, maybe even anger. Instead I will never forget my dad's response as he gently told me how PROUD he was of me! Did he hear me wrong? No. He said he knew how hard this was for me and he was proud of me for coming to them. no anger. not even disappointment. just love. I think I have underestimated the power and depth of my own Dad's love for me. What better lesson could he teach me than unconditional love and forgiveness?
And how could that not make me think of my Heavenly Father on this Father's Day?
The TRUE example of what every Dad wants to be.
The Father that is ALWAYS patient. Always forgiving. Always understanding. Always listening. Always building. Always blessing. Always giving. Always knowing. Always teaching. Always loving.
No wonder I have such amazing Fathers surrounding me! JT, his Dad, and my own Dad. They all have the best example to follow.
Happy Father's Day. I love you all so much.
Monday, June 6, 2011
THE WAITLIST...
How many times can I write a post about getting on the WAIT LIST before everyone stops reading my Blog because it seems to be THE SAME STORY OVER...and OVER... and OVER???
Well, in case you missed the FIRST TIME (in 2010) when we got put on the WAIT LIST for Pacific University in Oregon, or if you missed the SECOND TIME (in 2010) when we got put on the WAIT LIST for Chattham University- Puerto Rico, here is your chance to read about the THIRD TIME we are on the WAIT LIST!
This time (2011) for ROCHESTER UNIVERSITY in Rochester New York.
That's right. Here we go AGAIN.
Is this a sick joke? Have we not felt like the Beauty Pageant RUNNER UP long enough?? Can our mail box be any more cursed?
It is exhausting. It is hard enough to painfully wait for results in the mail. It is hard enough to have the interviewer tell JT good job and that he would be recommended for admission. But to add three more months to the TORTURE??
I am not trying to sound UNGRATEFUL here. "It is an Honor just to be nominated" (oops, that was from the speech I wrote for myself to humbly accept that I did not Win the Academy Award and act like I was happy for Angelina Jolie who stole it from me) What I meant was - we are glad that he is being CONSIDERED. That it isn't just a FLAT OUT REJECTION, those hurt even worse. (I think Miss Washington knows that - she almost never makes it to the top ten for Miss America) But seriously.
Seriously.
The one thing I have learned from this story... that keeps repeating itself OVER... and OVER... and OVER AGAIN:
I am NOT giving up on JT. He is FIRST place to me. If this was me. If I was the one getting put on waitlist after waitlist I think I might have given up on myself. Thrown in the towel. Taken the role in the Cheesy Romantic Comedy (oops, back to me and my Academy Award). But this isn't about me. It is about JT. And I believe in him. And I will continue to support him.
And Most of all...
I WILL WAIT WITH HIM.
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