Impeccable timing

I just can't get this out of my head, so I'm gonna write about it.

Our Suburban is about 80 years old and pretty much, falling apart, piece by piece.  I'm fine with it.  I don't need fancy fance.  She runs, that's all I care about.  Plus, accident-wise, it'd take out just about any car, so I feel pretty safe.  But she is getting old and it shows.  Kids hate it.  Their friends call it the "Tank."  Better than the crap car my parents drove while I was in younger.  It was a red VW van.  In Germany.  It went about 50 mph.  My friends called it the put-put mobile.  That's way worse than "tank."

And I'm super loyal to this Suburban.  She brought us safely from VA to ID, so we're keeping it.  We will drive her until she literally craps out.  Like, the car my parents drove, they drove that thing til the battery fell out.  For reals.  My mom said she was driving and all of a sudden, "ker-plunk" then "dragggg" and over to the side of the road she coasted and came to a stop.  Yup, the battery had fallen out.

Anyways, like I said, the Suburban is slowly ebbing, but not w/o a fight.  From me. 

The other day, I could have SWORN that Matt said he had filled the Suburban up with gas.  I knew it needed to happen.  It was on empty but I find myself so darn busy, that I don't even have time to stop to fill up, so I just drive with a little prayer that I can get to point A to point B w/o running out of gas.  Not that I'm being reckless.  I just seriously don't have time and think, "I'll fill up later."

Anyways, I was aware that the tank was empty, had the thought to fill it up "next time" and swear I heard Matt tell me he had filled it up.

So when I left to run kids to this place and that, I was shocked slash not shocked to see the needle still on empty.  I figured, "great, there goes the gas gauge."  And went about my morning.

On my way home, as I was coming down a hill behind campus, I thought, "let me just put a little bit of gas in the car to see if the gauge really is broken."  At the bottom of the hill there is an entrance to the gas station that's near my house.  I committed to the thought and veered right.  And that's when the Suburban shut off.  The lights dimmed, the steering wheel froze up.  Right when you enter the gas station there are 2 pumps at that entrance with 6 more around the corner, at the front.  I cranked the wheel as hard as I could to get the car coasting in the direction of the 2 pumps.  And I came to a complete, dead, completely complete, gas-less stop.  Right.  In.  Front.  Of.  THE GAS PUMP!

I sat there for a few moments, praising God like a full-on Deus e Amor member.  Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!!!!  I kept saying, over and over and over.  I got out, put over $100 bucks in the tank (still didn't fill up, but ... $100?!?!?!  It just hurt.)  and I'm still thanking God for that experience.

I find it super interesting that after that experience, my FB wall totally filled up with all that stuff about gay parents and their kids not being able to be baptized or something like that.

My first thought?  I have to admit.  Anger.  Isn't one super important thing about getting baptized the fact that you get the gift of the Holy Ghost, which helps you make correct choices for the rest of your life?  Don't we all need that GIFT?  Followed by the thought, "yet kids who want to be baptized with parents who are super against it CAN?"  I felt a bit frustrated by the whole thing.

And then I read in Alma today about when Alma and Almuleck were teaching and the lawyers were making life difficult and their new converts were thrown into the fire and Alma and Almuleck suffer days and days of getting smacked in the face, go w/o food, water and clothes, and in the end, they are described as lions walking out from the crumbled prison.

The things I was reminded of when I reflect on the gas station thing and the Alma/Almuleck thing is that God is real.  He.  Really.  Is.  And humans are humans.  We're the same today as we were centuries ago.  I'm sure the lawyers and those who supported the lawyers all had their reasons to attack these men of God.  Sure they were blinded, but aren't we all blinded to a degree?  Maybe they were blinded by money, pride, peer pressure.  That's not at all unfamiliar for us today!  Regardless, the lawyers in the Book of Mormon were blinded and were making some pretty evil decisions regarding these 2 men of God.  There was a time in this Alma story where Almuleck thought, "Maybe they will also burn us?" I love that line.  It shows, to me, his human-ness. He doubted, he was afraid, he didn't have an answer.  But Alma comforted him.  He knew they wouldn't get burned because they hadn't finished their mission.

The point of my sharing that is although there was obvious confusion, for sure heartbreak, frustration and a desire to make things better (Almuleck wanting to save the new converts from the fire) Alma, the prophet, KNEW what to do. 

I am seriously the type of person who needs to know the "whys" to things.  I have a rebellious spirit.  I get totally turned off by ... stupid people, holy rollers, etc.  And to be quite honest, I get a bit "yawny" with all the stuff on FB regarding this "announcement" (both stuff for and against it.)

But because of my experience at the gas station, coupled with reading about Alma and Amuleck, I am reminded, ever so gently, lovingly, and OBVIOUSLY, that God is real.  That He is in charge, that He's aware of me.  And because of all this, He has given me a prophet TODAY, like Moses, Noah, Isaiah, Nephi, etc. who will guide me.  He will say what the Lord wants him to say, not what HE himself wants to say, and I need to remember that.  Not many people, at all, boarded the arc.  It took the Israelites 40 years to reach their destination.  We, humans, tend to forget some pretty important things and act pretty ... humanly.  I need to remember this.  I need to always remember my vulnerability and stay focused on what I need to focus on.  It's silly and tomfoolery to harshly judge the "evil" people in the scriptures.  Because really, I am no different.  And that's why it's so important to just keep focused on the scriptures, listen to and follow the prophets, and really, really listen to and recognize the Lord's whispers and inspirations.

That said, I know we have living, breathing prophets on Earth today.  We need them.

X-Country. It's a beautiful sport.

My thoughts have been reeling with the adventures of the past couple of months.  Angela decided, since it was offered to the 6th graders for the first time ever, to forgo soccer this fall and instead run cross-country.

In all honestly, I had 2 distinct thoughts cross my mind.  "You're going to suck at it" and "I'm so glad you're 'mixing' your sports up."

The former:  She's a sprinter.  I was a sprinter.  Super fast.  And typically, you're either fast at short distances or fast at long distances.  Not both.  And I sucked at long distances.  So I figured she was going to suck, too.

The later:  I think, even if you have a passion for a certain sport, "mixing it up" is about the best thing you can do for your preferred sport.  "Cross-training."  I loved hearing that the national women's soccer team, for the most part, all participated in a NUMBER of different sports and they totally encouraged it.  It was my understanding of "passing the ball" and "getting open for a pass" in basketball that totally prepared me for soccer.  Plus, it fuels the hunger for your sport by not burning you out.  Not to mention overuse injury.

As a little tid-bit, Abby Wambach, whom I totally idolize in an almost unhealthy way, said that her timing for her diving headers came from playing forward in basketball.

Anyways, I was glad to see that Ange wanted to try another sport and just play soccer in the Spring.  Cool by me.

And because I totally sucked at cross-country, I was prepared with an entire novel full of the "silver linings" as why to continue on with cross-country even though you suck that I'd share with Ange.

When I picked her up from practice I braced myself as I asked her "how it went." 

"It was cool.  Only 3 people can beat me."
"You mean only 3 girls in the 6th grade?"
"No, the entire team."
(The entire team is 6th-8th, boys and girls.)

Of course I interpreted this as:  You obviously didn't understand the coach's course instructions and naively cut the course.  Or simply, "You obviously didn't finish what you were supposed to run."

But I didn't correct her.  I just let her believe that only 3 people could beat her.

I couldn't make her first race and when she came home with her 1st place medal, I kinda scratched my head.

Come to find out, she really is a fast little buggar.  If it's a 6th grade only race, she always wins, with quite the gap between herself and 2nd.  If it's 6th-8th, she'll come in 4th up to 2nd, depending on which schools are running. 

It's so weird for me, someone who totally sucked at cross-country, to see something I birthed run so strongly in a distance competition.  It's almost surreal. 

The cool thing about Ange is, it doesn't go to her head.  And the opposite is true.  If she loses a game or is on a losing team, it also doesn't "go to her head."  She enjoys sports, no matter how she does.  Always.  Has.

Which brings me to the real purpose of this post.  "What I would have told Ange had she 'sucked' at cross-country."

X-Country really and truly is a beautiful sport.  I find myself tearing up as I watch the runners force themselves through the chute, sucking wind, on the verge of puking.  I love seeing the kids push themselves to the limit.  And I love seeing EVERYONE clapping and cheering them ALL on.  From the 1st to the last.  It's so emotional for me.

My experience in the sport is drastically different not only from my daughter's, but from any sport I've ever done. I've experienced at least SOME level of success in my sports, from track to basketball, to racquetball to soccer.  Cross-country?  Complete disappointment, complete failure, even alienation.  My high school coach, Rip Wagner, HATED me.  And he didn't hide it either.  I was the reason he didn't have TWO European Championship teams.  (The guys team in my high school won and the girls team could have won as the first 5 girls were all super strong runners, taking the top 5 or 10 spots easily in races.  Then in waddled me.  2nd from the end.  Ruining all chances of our team every doing anything cool at the championship level.)

Yes, I hated it.  But quitting was never an option.  Because for some strange reason, I STILL felt some weird sort of satisfaction simply crossing the finish line.

And because of that, cross-country taught me so many life lessons.  Because of that, x-country really is a beautiful sport.

Sometimes life really does get so hard.  Sometimes the choices you make, especially the RIGHT choices, tend to be some of the HARDEST to follow through.  But just because something is hard, or even just because you honestly feel like you're FAILING, doesn't mean you give up.  Serving a mission in Brazil was, at the time, one of the hardest things I had ever done.  But going home was never even on my radar.  I HAD to cross that finish line.  When I returned from my mission and found myself, 3 years later, about as single as a rat in a snake pit, the temptation to "give up on finding Mr. Perfect" and simply "settling for whomever wanted me" definitely lurked in the dark corners of my mind.  Especially when my mom started referring to me as a "Spinster."  But thankfully I didn't give up on myself and eventually DID find my Mr. Perfect.

Being a mother?  Not a walk in the park.  This stuff is HARD work.  At times I sincerely do feel defeated.  I have felt like I'm wasting my time.  I have even felt, 'maybe being a mom really isn't as important as I'm told.'  But then I remind myself that getting down on myself is part of the experience and the other part is holding my head high, shouldering through the doubts and naysayers, ignoring the Rip Wagners, and keeping my eyes on that finish line. 

And just because, by comparison, you may THINK you suck at something, really, YOU DON'T.  Comparing myself to the other runners on my team, one could easily say, "you suck at running" simply because they "beat" me.  But what else went on?  I'd have to say, I'm a champion at pacing myself because I didn't die on the course.  I'm a champion at ignoring negative comments and simply 'doing my thang' because I didn't let my coach's negative behavior towards me deter me from running.  I'm a champion at finding satisfaction in other things besides winning.

These are the things I was prepared to share with Angela had she become frustrated with her xc experience.  I never want my kids to quit a sport or to not try out for a sport simply because they "suck" at it.  Winning truly is not everything.  In my opinion, it's the least of everything.  I was having a conversation once and she said, "she quit volleyball because she just couldn't do it well.  I don't blame her.  Nothing's fun if you can't do it well." 

So.  Terribly.  Not.  True.

“Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he’s been robbed. The fact is that most putts don’t drop, most beef is tough, most children grow up to just be people, most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration, most jobs are more often dull than otherwise. Life is like an old time rail journey…delays…sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling burst of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.”

Sometimes life really isn't great.  Sometimes it can be down right hard.  Many times you may feel completely defeated.  Maybe even totally alone. The trick really and truly is, to put your right foot down and kick up that left heel. Doing so, you will move forward and eventually, you will cross that finish line and when you do, and you think back on that course, and you find yourself conqueror of that course, ... then comes the exhilaration, then comes the contentment, then comes the satisfaction and even the boost in self esteem and confidence to move on as a better you. 

I am so happy that my daughter found success in her 1st cross-country season.  At the same time, I'm confident that even if she wasn't a strong runner, she would still run.  She told me, "Whenever I feel like stopping cuz I'm tired, I tell myself, 'Quitters never win and winners never quit', and Mom, I'm NOT a quitter!"

See, x-country really is a beautiful sport!

Finally! A much needed tender mercy!

Ever since we moved here to ID, I've been struggling more with "churchy" things than anything else.  I feel like the basic Gospel of Jesus Christ is pretty simple and liberating even, but then what happens?  Well meaning people have to screw it all up.  And I find myself struggling huge with it.  More than I should.

It's not just Idaho people either.  People in my past, family, snippets on FB, etc.  So I find myself having quiet conversations with Heavenly Father, basically trying to sort my own spiritual feelings out.  And lately, I just haven't felt Heavenly Father close.  Like, the heavens are far, cold, quiet and empty.

I've also been really struggling with our financial situation.  I was born into poverty and never have I had a SINGLE.  DAY.  IN.  MY.  LIFE where money, or rather the lack there of, wasn't a stress.  I'm 41 and it continues and frankly, I don't see an end.  My dad got his first job my sophomore year in high school.  Teachers would send me home with clothes because they felt so bad for me.  When I went to college, I worked at the MTC cafeteria ... well, really, what college student has money?  My entire 15 years of marriage have been supporting Matt through school, so no income which has resulted in quite the amount of debt.  It will take a miracle to get us on our feet financially.  I believe in miracles, but just recently it just hit me that most likely, financial burden will be my burden through life. 

And I'd find myself having quiet conversations with Heavenly Father, basically trying to sort THOSE feelings out.  And lately, I just haven't felt Heavenly Father close.  Like, the heavens are far, cold, quiet and empty.

We went to the temple a few weeks ago. That for me was the 1st time in about 2 plus years.  I was actually really looking forward to it.  I wanted to feel Heavenly Father close.  I wanted to feel some relief from my struggles.  Hoping to get answers or at the minimum, comfort.  And once again, yes, even there in the temple, I felt the heavens far away, cold, quiet, and empty.

I've actually never had an *amazing experience at the temple.  I find myself getting more and more frustrated when I hear people tell stories about their experiences at the temple.  They all sound the same, and all so foreign to me.  Don't get me wrong, I know it's a great place to be, but I wasn't super surprised that I had the experience I had a few weeks ago in the Boise temple.

*I'm not saying I've never gotten answers to my prayers.  Yes, I have.  So vivid that there is zero doubt in my mind that God hears and answers prayers.  All I'm saying is I have never gotten an answer while sitting and pondering and praying in the temple.  Not a reason to stop going of course, just saying I go, when I go, because I know it's the right thing to do.

Back to the point of this post.   I just found myself getting more and more overwhelmed, frustrated, and yes, even a bit angry.

Last night I told Matt I was going to the room for quiet so I could read the scriptures.  I was having a particularly hard day regarding finances and even jokingly said, "I'm going to find out what we need to do to not be poor!" as I walked into the room with the scriptures.  I had a quick thought rush through my head, "Let tomorrow take care of itself.  Carry not purse or script because I will take care of you.  The lilies toil not yet are adorned more beautifully than the temples of Solomon." 

I dismissed the thought, telling myself, "Quit trying to be so cheesy positive with those cheesy positive Mormony thoughts!"  I hate cheesy crap.

Then I laid on the bed and did my "random opening" of the scriptures and got comfortable.  If I fell asleep, more power to me!  :)

I opened up to D&C section 84 and started reading.  Just cuz that's where I opened to.  As I read, I have to admit, I got emotional, my heart started pounding, and my entire being felt a huge amount of gratitude towards Heavenly Father.  I couldn't believe it!  Read it if you're reading this so you can see what I'm talking about!  https://www.lds.org/scriptures/dc-testament/dc/84?lang=eng

I have to admit, I did skip to verse 43 cuz I'm adhd.

Not only did I get the answers I was looking for when we went to the temple, I got the comfort I needed and this huge amount of understanding in just a flash of a second.  I RE-EXPERIENED Heavenly Father's love for me, was reminded that He is aware of me, and suddenly felt the burden of our insanely pathetic financial situation lifted.  I don't have answers to HOW things will financially get better, but I was given a huge reminder to simply TRUST in Heavenly Father. 

Regarding my struggles with the Gospel vs people.  The section was great!  It was all about missionary work and for me, it was as if Heavenly Father were saying to me, "Don't worry about all that.  Just be a missionary.  And to be a missionary, just be a good you, the best you, be a good friend and example."

I didn't feel like I needed to go on splits with the missionaries.  I didn't feel like I needed to start running around bearing my testibalogne to everyone I saw.  I just had this happy feeling that all I needed to do was to be a happier, positive and better me.  And I really felt like Heavenly Father would take care of things.  All things.

He has in the past.  And I guess it's safe to say that last night, I was reminded that "His helping me" has not run out. Will not run out.

I really needed that experience last night.  He sure is aware of our needs.  Really and truly aware.

The whole knee thing

Back at BYU, 1998 ish, I was playing soccer when I was supposed to be helping with the Special Olympics.  For me it was a no brainer.  Play soccer vs. not play soccer.  I still remember it like it was this morning.  I was playing striker and running full speed towards the goal.  The ball was passed sooner than I anticipated so I quickly planted my left foot and slide into the ball with the bottom of my right foot.  And completely destroyed my knee.  I heard the tear, the snap, the pop.  I didn't know then what I had done and just figured I had sprained my knee and would be back in no time.  Not so.  I had what people call "the unhappy triad" and after surgery to fix my knee, had about 6 weeks of crutches and 6 months of therapy.  Oh, I did score that goal though!  :)

2 weeks ago, while playing basketball, I jumped up to get the ball and landed with my right leg going one way and my body going the other.  I heard the familiar pop pop and seriously, started cussing because A it hurt and B, this time I knew what I had done and I was pissed.

It was Tuesday, the 2nd day of summer.

On Monday I had planned my summer days with the kids, all of which would start off with me running to the gym, working out, running back and getting things going with the kids.  It was the summer, I had planned, to really get into shape.  I had 2 miscarriages in the past 2 months and figured, "not getting pregnant anymore.  So the silver lining can be getting my body back!"

I'm really struggling with this.  I know it's superficial, I know at 41 and still pretty active, I have a lot to be thankful for.  But it's still so hard.  Running, playing basketball, doing things, it's my therapy.  It's my Prozac.  When I feel overwhelmed or super angry, I go for a quick run and come back totally cured.  When I feel trim and fit, I just feel happier.  I was sad about the miscarriages, but really, I thought that by closing this chapter I could open a new chapter of getting in super shape.  Not to be cool, not to fit in better with all these crazy fit ID moms, not to feel more confident around chubby people.  But simply, to feel good about myself.

Matt gave me a blessing and in it, he said that the Lord was aware of me and knew what I needed even before I knew what I needed for myself.  I took comfort in the blessing, figuring that my knee would have a miraculous prognosis at the ortho's office.

I know the Lord is aware of me, I've had plenty of experiences where that has been PROVEN.  I'm just having such a hard time with this.  There was no miraculous prognosis, and when I went in today for the MRI, I ended up not getting it.  I took a pregnancy test last week and it came back positive.  So the radiologist said, "lets put this off just to be safe."  The thing is, I haven't been sick so I'm afraid it's going to be yet another miscarriage.  4 miscarriages total.  Added to this, our Kent house isn't selling like I was hoping it would.

If there ever were a time that I could use a good jog to the gym, it'd be now.

So I'm just trying to figure out that blessing.  "The Lord knows what I need before I know."

Patience?  Do I need to learn patience?  Did I need to slow down?  Cherish my kids better?  I have definitely learned that I took my 8 pregnancies for granted, that's for sure! 

I've been struggling with "little churchy things" lately.  Are these experiences to help me understand to put those pesky thoughts to rest?

I don't know.  I don't have an answer. 

But I know I will get one.  Life can be difficult.  I am so very aware that my "difficult" may seem like child's play when compared to others' "difficult" but it's still hard.  Last Sunday in Sunday School, we were discussing Nephi and his travels and how he reacted to hard things.  Even his father, the prophet, who had seen visions and spoke with the Lord, murmured at one time.  He didn't murmur when he had to move his family out of their city.  He didn't murmur when he had to send his 4 sons back TWICE to that city.  He didn't murmur when he realized he'd be crossing the ocean.  He murmured when food became scarce.  Which makes ma laugh a little.  Going hungry does seem to make me cranky.  Point being, we all have our breaking points, we all react differently to different trials. 

But then I think about Nephi, how he sorta got the raw end of the deal.  Always having to deal with his rebellious brothers who hated him.  Always taking the "upper road."   I mean, he even spent the rest of his life knowing that his posterity would eventually become extinct.  Yet, the blessings he was given, or better yet, the blessings that I've even been given because of him, are endless.  Had he not built that boat, I wouldn't have the Book of Mormon today. 

Wow, this blog took a crazy turn.  :)  Didn't mean to go down this road.

I've just got to figure out my attitude towards everything.  Lately, it's been pretty crappy to say the least.  Somehow, I need to pull myself out of this funk.  After writing this, actually, I feel better!

Sick of the crap

I just read this article asking people to sign a petition meant for the president of BYU, stating that BYU needed to grant religious freedom to members who left the church.  I'm not sure of all the facts behind this petition, but it stirred some serious emotions in me as I read it.

I'm just sick of the crap.

At 41, I can better sympathize with members who go inactive.  I can better sympathize with Laman and Lemuel.  I can better sympathize with those leaders and members who left the church when it was first being RESTORED in the latter days.  I can better sympathize with those members who, in the Book of Mormon times, were angry and left the church.  I really can.  I have personally been struggling with and having lots of questions regarding the church.  I really have.  And my all time favorite friends are, or rather my "bffs" tend to be ladies in the church who are not afraid of admitting that they too, have questions and struggle with some things.

What we also have in common is a core testimony that our world needs and HAS a prophet.  A man who talks with God, just like Moses, Abraham, Noah, Elijah, Samuel, Eli, Joseph (coat of many colors), Peter, etc.  Men who did not aspire to be prophets, but were called by God, to be prophets.  To talk with Him and share what He wants the rest of the people to know.

Most prophets in the Bible were rejected, ignored or made fun of by the people.  How many jumped in the boat that Noah made?  What ended up happening to Peter?  Why did it take Moses 40 years to reach the land the Lord had chosen for the Israelites? 

Joseph Smith was ALSO called by God to be a prophet.  His treatment by the people was no different than previous prophets.  Some loved him, some hated him, and some even killed him. 

And this is when the rubber hits the road for me.  I do have my questions, I do have my complaints, I do have my "issues", but I'm not going to "knock down my stone wall" because of them.  The stone wall referring to testimony of the Gospel.  Every stone wall ever built is different.  Every testimony is different.  We each are building our own stone walls.  Some stones may not properly fit for the time being, so I just put it down and find others that do fit to build my wall.  Eventually I will find where that "confusing" stone goes.  But just because I have 1, 2, maybe even 10 or 20 stones that don't "fit" right now, doesn't mean I knock my wall down. 

Bottom line is, the Gospel of Jesus Christ is true.  We do have a prophet to lead us.  He speaks with God and then shares those words with us.  That's the church in a nutshell for me.  The knowledge that just like prophets in the Old Testament, in the New Testament, and Book of Mormon, we have modern day prophets that lead and guide us.  It's a LUCKY thing!

I'm so sick and tired of people leaving the church and then bashing it.  I guess it's bound to happen.  It happened in ancient days.  Heck, Christ was eventually crucified.  Many times I can totally sympathize with how a person "began" the slippery slope of inactivity.  And then I can see so clearly how satan traps them.  I have to admit, that is why I get so scared for myself because I can see how easily it could happen to me.  I pray every day, well, more like talk in my head every second of the day, to Heavenly Father, because I don't want to become blinded by satan.  I love Heavenly Father, I love Jesus Christ, and I have been blessed with a testimony that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is Christ's church, RESTORED in these latter days. 

Nothing made me madder when my MIL told my husband that she questioned my commitment to the Gospel.  It's that kind of crap  that I hate about members of the church.  But that's the thing, MEMBERS can be idiots, they can be bigots,  they can hypocrites, they can be judgmental double standard ass holes, but it doesn't change the fact Joseph Smith saw Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.  It doesn't change the fact that ancient prophets in the Americas kept records of their conversations with Jesus and their dealings with their people.  It doesn't change the fact that the ancient prophet Moroni took those records, buried them in the ground, and then, centuries later, appeared to Joseph Smith, and showed him where he buried those records.  It doesn't change the fact that Joseph Smith translated those records from Ancient Egyptian to English so we could read them.  It doesn't change the fact that today, Thomas S. Monson is our prophet.

So no, I'm not going to sign that stupid petition.  No, I'm not going to jump on the "women should have the priesthood" bandwagon.  The prophet hasn't given the green light on these things. 

I will however embrace my identity and embrace my free agency.  I'll dress modestly (MY DEFINITION) I'll keep the Word of Wisdom (MY DEFINITION) I'll keep the Sabbath Day (MY DEFINITION) I'll be a member missionary (MY DEFINITION) I'll stand for truth and righteousness (MY DEFINITION) 

The Gospel is actually very simple, very liberating.  I hope and pray my children grow to understand this.  And stay firm in the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

He's 13 today!

Wow, can't believe he's 13!  It was yesterday that he was born.  His birth marked the start of "no more epidurals" for me.  After he was born, around 5AM, I remember holding him then saying to Matt, "you better take him."  I passed out right then and there and woke up later on that day, only to learn that he was in the NICU because he had quit breathing 3 different times and had to be resuscitated.  They found absolutely nothing wrong with him.  I KNEW it was because of my epidural.  Laboring and delivering Colby with the epidural was a nightmare.  Dallin's experience made that nightmare seem like a daydream, so I committed to never have another epidural again.

This experience totally typifies who Dallin is today.  Anytime he's hit with a challenge, he takes it head on and comes out on top. Every. Time!

He was born clubfoot.  Had to have surgery to correct it. He quickly learned how to walk anyways, so early that funny-not-so-funny-more-dumb-than-anything-else people would ask, "oh, does he want to be a ballerina?"  I guess it's funnier now.  He had to have surgery and quickly figured out walking again, only this time casted.  Nothing kept that boy down!

Today he's no different.  I love it! 

He's such an easy kid to raise.  Obedient, eager to please, ready to get done what needs to be done (maybe so he can BE DONE)  :)  He does great in school, excels in sports, and makes friends with the neatest of kids!  I love his humor.  The other day, a crazy old lady (like for reals, cah-RAY-zee) approached him and Colby whilst they were kicking the soccer ball in the field.  It got near her dogs and she said, "I will kill you if you hurt my dogs!  I will put your head on a plate!"  Dallin said to Colby and me later on, in a very "preacher preaching" type voice, "that lady needs the GOSPEL in her life!"  then started giggling at his own joke.  Once an old man cussed me out while he was biking and I was driving and as soon as he biked away, Dallin started laughing sooo hard.  He thought it was the funniest thing ever!

I'm thinking only crazy old people live here.

One thing that's never mentioned about him is his love for instruments.  He plays the clarinet but when we moved here, switched to the bass clarinet.  He's taught himself how to play the saxophone now and is playing around on my flute.  That's my mom's dad coming out in him.  He was quite the musician.  I see that in Dallin, too.

He still has plans to be an MLS player.  He could do it.  He's mentally very strong.  A few years ago, when I asked him "what's your plan 'B' if that doesn't work out?" he said, "No plan B, cuz that means I might not do it."  Now, however, he does have a plan 'B'.  Lawyer.  Not sure where that came from, but we'll see where that goes. 

I love my chats with him.  I love listening to his plans, I love laughing at his jokes.  I love his random hugs he gives me.  A little while ago I mentioned to the kids the importance of saying thanks and showing gratitude.  Now he's always thanking me.  I love his humility in accepting guidance and putting it into action.  I love his motivation, how he just doesn't let negative things get the best of him. 

I'm so blessed to be his mom.  He makes me look like I know what I'm doing as a parent.  Quite honestly, anyone could parent him.  He's such a good person.  He'd make any parent look like they know what they're doing.  I just get to be the lucky one. 

Kindness begins with me

It's a song, not sure of the title, but one of the phrases is, "Kindness begins with me."

So the past little while I've been struggling with negative thoughts.  Resentment, bitterness, hatred.  And it's kinda getting me down.  Yes, I know where those thoughts come from, yes I know it's such a waste of time, yes, I know about the hot coal analogy and I know about how we're supposed to forgive.  I know all these things.  I have implored Heavenly Father to take this burden from me.  I've tried to apply the Atonement.

But when it hits as close to home as my stuff hits, the Sunday school answers just don't cut it. 

So I thought, "maybe I'll just blog about some of the people who I know and why I like them." 

So here goes.  First name and last name initial only.  I'll write 50.  Order doesn't really matter.

"Hedder" P. ~ Hilarious and we talk on the phone 1-10 times a day.  I couldn't do anything w/o her.
Missy G. ~ Hilarious and she can read my mind.  We finish each others thoughts.  She's my twin.  You have taught me how to be a better person.
Mildred H. ~ When I have any problems, I call her.  We think the same.  She's always right!  :)
Laura D. ~ So easy to be with.  So crafty.  So accepting of everyone.
Adaline W. ~ Girl.  Is.  Funny.  And beautiful.  She's a rock.
Rachel S. ~ I get her.  Anytime we're together, we laugh!
Shirley L. ~ She may be 20 years older than I am, but we laugh like 12 year olds together!
Jennifer V. ~ My guardian angel here on Earth.  Things she'd do for me, let me know God was aware of me.
Jessica B. ~ Don't know each other well, but I have always been captivated by your beauty.  You have gorgeous eyes girlfriend! 
Ashley S. ~ We've had some long email chats.  You've been there for me in ways you don't even know. 
Chantel Z. ~ I will always love your daughter!
Laura J. ~ My girls want you to be their mom and I love your boys!!!
Patty C. ~ You're the coolest woman around.  I feel super special that I get to call you friend.
Angela M. ~ My trainer.  I named my daughter after you.  People would see the strength of our friendship and be opened to talking about the Gospel with us.  You're my hero.
Tamara M. ~ My 1st friend at BYU.  So non-judgmental  And ALWAYS laughing.
Selena K. ~ Laughing.  Always laughing with you!
Tamara A. ~ My precious roommate.  So witty, so athletic, so funny!!!
Sue K. ~ My soccer mamma.  Soccer is just not the same with out you!  Together, we had all the answers!
Kindra J. ~ One.  Hot.  Mamma.  And one of the most tender hearted people I know. 
Emily J. ~ Gorgeous.  Faithful.  Steadfast.  Determined.
Cindy B. ~ So kind and hugest thing that sticks out?  You are one.  Awesome.  Photographer.
Jodi B. ~ Hilarious.  So hilarious.  And someone I feel so comfortable being myself around!
Renee F. ~ My mini-me.  Oh how I love your wit and humor!  You filled my high school years w/so many fun memories!
April L. ~ "Apes."  You filled my childhood w/so many fun memories.  You always made me laugh.  You still do!
Kris P. ~  I am jealous of your wit and social skills.  You have skills girl!  And your insights are super wise and dead on!
Rachel H. ~ My crafty one.  You're Matt's twin actually.  I was just really getting to know you when we left.  I'd laugh so hard with you, mainly cuz you're so quite, but say the funniest things!
Tamara H. ~ I simply love you.  I love your kids.  I love our friendship.  I love your practicality.
Evelyn N. ~ You were most of my kids' first teacher.  And they all love school.  I credit you with that.  And oh how I miss chatting with you!!
Lynda S. ~ Basketball brought us together, preschool and my kids strengthened our friendship.  I love your wisdom.
Stephanie W. ~ I sucked at VT-ing you.  Yet the entire time I lived there, I craved getting to know you better!
Shelly G. ~ Oh girl, where do I start?  When we first met we couldn't stop chatting together!
Andrea W. ~ Our girls brought us together.  I think if we had stayed neighbors, we'd have grown inseparable.  You're so easy to talk to!
Sue L. ~ I'm actually glad your dog bit me.  I still have the scar!  It's my tattoo of remembrance of you!  I love how welcomed you always made me feel.  You made me feel special!
Colleen C. ~ I seriously see you as a rock.  You are strong, immovable, confident, and kind. 
Simona H. ~ I'll never forget the cake you brought me.  You're one of the most thoughtful people I know!
Tiffany C. ~ I love your sense of adventure and your confidence to go forward with ANYTHING! I love that about you!!
Megan C. ~ Simply put, I love your dedication to your kids!
Beth S. ~ We don't know each other super well, but you're one of the most beautiful people I know and holy cow you have a beautiful family!
Lisa F. ~ You're the first person I met when we moved to VA.  I remember the day we met.  I immediately loved your humor and down to earthiness'.  (sp?)  I always loved being around you!
Paige M. ~ Oh my goodness.  How I love you.  What I miss the most is you driving up to my house and all my kids running out to your car.  I miss your hugs.  You are the definition of strength and kindness.
Valenice C. ~ You're so wise.  So funny.  So diligent!  I miss hearing your laugh!
Kristin B. ~ I love your honesty.  I love the giggles we had together!
Alicia G. ~ Basketball.  Photo shoots.  You mothering my babies.  I love how you always have the strength to do what's RIGHT!
Doris L. ~ What an example you are to me of working hard and working hard for your family!
Maria H. ~ My favorite memory?  Walking together!  I love your tenacity and your confidence!  From singing from the pulpit to opening a restaurant!  You are an example of going forward!
Heather H. ~ Silently going about your business, being awesome at everything!!!
Heather M. ~ Beautiful as always, but what I love most about you is how giving you are.
Dani L. ~ When we do get together, I always LOVE our talks.  You are a very fun person to chat with and I know I can talk about anything w/you!
Stephanie L. ~ We don't get together much; we need to more.  But really, anytime we do, I always think, "I could totally live near her!"
Kristina L. ~ The greatest thing I love about you?  Your mothering.  Your kids are lucky to have you.

OK, that was 50.  That was fun!!!  It helped for me to see what draws me to people.  I see that most of my friends here are funny!  I guess I like to laugh!  :)

Stay tuned!  I think I'm gonna do this some more!

Lunch notes

Up until now, the kids have always had free school lunches.  The silver lining in 15 years of schooling.

So now the kids are packers.  Or as they say here, "cold lunch."  I always called it packers, but anyways. 

Having to bring their lunches to school is great, but just something to add to my random trips to the school for forgotten items.  Homework, a signed permission slip, now lunch.  When you're a stay home mom, it's what you're good for.  Running forgotten items to school so your child can be less responsible. 

Yeah, I got it.

And it's not the younger girls that forget things, it's the older boys.  The girls are made of maturity, properness, cleanliness, responsibility.  The boys?  It's comical.

So to "teach them to not forget their lunches" I would do what they see as the worst thing ever.  I write heart-felt feelings, on the front of their lunch bag.  In marker.

"You are my world!"
"You're so handsome, I know all the girls just think you're hot!"
"You can achieve anything you want because you're awesome!"

Stuff like that.  Yes, I do believe it, but normally I'm not one to trumpet those kinds of things.  Unless I'm trying to teach my kids to be more responsible.

The boys would come home from school and beg me to stop writing on their lunch bags.  "It's sooo embarrassing!"  "Well, I do love you and I want you to know those things.  And I wouldn't write them if I didn't have to bring your lunch to you!"

The girl's ears apparently perked.

"What are you talking about?"

So guess who started "forgetting" their lunches?

I sensed that the girls LIKED the idea.  They have actual lunch bags, so I can't write on the outside of their lunches.  I delivered a couple of forgotten lunches to the girls with notes put inside their lunch bags. 

And then it happened.  Getting ready for school one morning, Angela handed me a pen and a stack of paper and said, "here Mom, for our notes."  It wasn't a demand, it wasn't joking, it wasn't even asking.  It was a simple statement.

Oh my gosh!  The innocence of it!  The preciousness of it!  The NECESSITY of it!

So every day, I write 5 notes, sometimes 6 (yes, Matt gets them every once in a while too!)  The boys at first would actually pack their lunches and smash them into their backpacks before I could slip their notes in them, but I persisted and now, they actually wait for me to write them and THEN smash their lunches into their backpacks.

The kids love the notes.  And I'm glad this idea evolved.  My greatest blessings go to school every day, get lambasted with who knows what (OK, I KNOW with what).  I think reading a "love note" from me is a great way to lift them, to remind them of how important they are, to lift their spirits, to put a spring in their step, to help them deal with peer pressure, or strengthen them against temptation.  It's nice to hear great things about yourself, especially from your parents. 

I do have to keep Addi's simple.  Her reading isn't up to par with her siblings.  The other day my note to her was, "I love your laugh.  Always keep laughing!"  When I picked her up she said, "Mom, your note was weird and made my friends laugh."
 "Oh really?"
"You said you love my lunch.  Always keep lunching.  That was really weird."  When I told her what I had REALLY written, she belted out her awesome belly laugh.  The girl laughs all the time.  Especially at herself.

I found out my daughters save their notes. 

I wish I had done this long ago, but that's OK.  Never too late to start a good habit.

It's all just moments

My morning started out with me being woken up by Addi, in tears, saying Dallin had dropped her.  I rolled out of bed, stumbled towards his bedroom, and bumped into him coming out of the bathroom.

The girls' room gets hot at night, so they opt to sleep in the twin bed that is in Dallin's room.  All 3.  In the twin.  The twin is meant for Owen and Riley, who sleep in my bed.  So it all works ... out.

And apparently Dallin attempted a transfer.  And failed.

"I needed to get ready and I didn't want her in here while I got ready, so I carried her to her own room."
"And dropped her?"
"No, I set her down."

Yeah, right.

Then there were no lunch bags for the boys who hated the fact that they had to tote their lunches in Wal-Mart bags.  (I reminded them that I used to take my lunch to school in the empty bread bag with hopes that roaches didn't rush out, so no complaining!)  Then there were no snack baggies for Cheetoes, so the kids packed about 3 cups worth into regular baggies.

Then I found a smashed banana in the carpet.  Then I found a top I had just sewn for Sadie in the dirty laundry. 

Then as I tilted the laundry detergent forward to fill the measuring cup, detergent poured out the top, covering my arm in soap.

Then as I quickly began scrubbing out the kitchen sink greasy water mixed with Comet splashed all over my shirt.

Then I wondered "was this the reason I was placed here on Earth?  Is this IT?"

Then I watched my dear Sadie play with her brothers outside with the little boy next door.  He in his little batman/power ranger/cowboy outfit, and mine in their pjs, Sadie in her fireworks piggy tails.  She was feeling such a part of their boy group.

Then I laid her down and she fell asleep.  Then Riley came in and fell asleep.  Then I read my scriptures (please know, this is a brand spanking new goal of mine and I've been going strong now for the past 3 days.  Before that, the only thing I read were FaceBook status updates.  No joke.)  Then I cleaned.  The entire house looks great at this very moment.

Then I thought, "This IS the reason I was placed on Earth and I am so incredibly blessed."

I'm not being cheesy.  With sleeping kids and a clean house, how could one NOT feel content?

And I'm reminded of a sentence a sweet lady said at the last Relief Society dinner activity thing I went to.  She said that life is just moments.  Just. Moments.  Both good and bad, but moments all the same.  And it's those moments that I know I will reflect on, and crave to repeat, when I'm an old lady  putting packages together for my grandchildren.

What I'm getting at is in a blink, I will have adult children.  These years of underwear clad 2 year olds, soccer carpooling, dress matching, late night runs to the grocery store for classroom party snacks, these years will be over in a blink.  And the big question is, how will I take care of these moments that fill up these years?

I have lots of bad moments.  My kids have heard all the swear words they will hear in middle school  from the lips of their mamma first.  I have moments where I just break down and cry because really, how can one person be required to do so much?

And then I have the great moments.  When I sit and enjoy a great laugh with Colby or watch Dallin score a header in his soccer game.  Or when my little bubble butt Riley, in his Sponge Bob undies, runs up to me, hugs my legs, then runs off. 

It's all just moments.  Each experience, both good and bad, fleeting.  So fleeting. 

I need to remember this when the moments are not desirable.  And bite my tongue or at the very least, say the not so offensive swear words.  And when the moments are great, to hold on to them, to take them in.  Because just like that, all present moments become past memories.

OK, and I have so much more to say, but in 20 minutes I need to start my afternoon school pick ups, then track pick ups, then soccer drop offs, then coach 2 soccer teams, then soccer pick ups.  Then dinner.

Oh and of course there's Activity Days. 

Yup, all just moments!  :)

Awesome goal yesterday

Yesterday Dallin scored his 2nd goal.  Making it 2 goals in 2 games.  I didn't get to photograph it because I was sucked in to what was taking place.  The ball was about 1000 feet in the air and I watched as Dallin and about 3 other players all had their eyes on it, poised to head the ball.  Dallin wanted it the most.  He jumped the highest and got his head on the ball, perfectly timed, sending it to the bottom right corner of the goal.

I watched his face.  He was SOOO HAPPY.  Even today he said to me, "You know how when you do something so great, you just can't stop believing you did it?"  So cute, so innocent, so true. 

I am so happy that happened for him.

I told him, "You need to thank your coach in VA for that goal."  Dallin asked why and the answer I gave is why I'm blogging tonight.

The team Dallin played with in VA was a great team, coached by a great man.  Dallin was 1 of 2 players pulled up from his "B" team to play with this "A" team last year.  Before the season started with his new team, he broke his leg and the repercussions were significant.  He was slow.  Clumsy.  Played carefully ( aka not aggressively.)  He pretty much benched his first season on his new team.  And I couldn't blame the coach for benching him. 

Spring season had Dallin continuing with this team and much stronger.  His leg was perfectly healed and he was back to his old self.  However he continued to bench.  Even when fellow players were having off games, he still benched.  One game he played 6 minutes.  He scored a goal then was removed from the field.

I couldn't understand it and Dallin grew frustrated. 

My first impulse was to approach his coach and share my concerns.  My 2nd impulse was to approach my son and make the best out of the situation.

I went with plan 2.  I let him know I understood his frustrations and then made a game plan for him.

"Dallin, you're going to have to work harder than the rest of the team to prove yourself to your coach that you are not a bench warmer.  Just "move up the bench" sorta speak."

I thought, "rather than 'fight this battle for or even with Dallin, let Dallin fight it by himself."  Because lots more would come out of it. 

So Dallin worked on his skills.  He was always in the back yard juggling, shooting, dribbling in between toys and rocks.  He simply knew he had to out perform his team mates if he wanted to play.

Fast forward to yesterday.  New town, new team, new coach.  The soccer here is actually a level above VA soccer.  I think it's because here the team practices year round.  My kids can't join them year round as they participate in other sports, but that's fine.  Pushes them more during the season.

Dallin played 95% of the game as both a defender and offensive player.  He played strong, hard, and the header showed me he was fine to try "new things" on the field.  Love it!

He had to push himself in VA.  Harder than the rest of the team actually.

I'm so glad I didn't take matters in to my own hands.  So glad we decided to put matters into Dallin's hands and figure things out for himself.  By doing so, it's made him a stronger player and when it comes down to it, a stronger person too.

Bi-state

I think my boys would appreciate it if I wrote about today.  Todaaaaaaaay. 

It was a long day, but a fun day.  So long in fact that when we first learned that there would be this looong day of a tournament, we decided immediately that only 1 of us would go and the other would stay home with the kids.  Cuz who wants to take 6 kids anywhere for 8 hrs?

But when I woke up this morning, I thought, "screw it, lets all go.  It'll be fun and the boys need our support."

Here's why I felt they needed our support.  I mean, we do lots of sports and they're used to not having everyone at their events because there's only 2 of us and usually about 800 events to accommodate our 800 kids.  However this season has been harder for them.

In VA, after fall soccer, they both decided they wanted to try out for the wrestling team.  "Try out" is relative, no one gets cut.  I think they more wanted to "try out" if they liked it or not and also figured wrestling would be good conditioning for soccer.  Matt was excited, he felt like they'd be great wrestlers.  I wasn't excited, I didn't feel like seeing my boys walk around in saran wrap, frolicking around with other like-dressed boys (or girls.) 

I threw my hands up in the air, said "whatever" and prepared for our cross country move.  And coached the girls' basketball, cuz that's the REAL winter sport!  :)

Long story short, Colby had an undefeated season and Dallin 50-50.  I was actually impressed and suddenly my interest in wrestling sparked.  And when we moved to ID, I saw wrestling as a great way to acclimate the boys to middle school here on the west coast.  The boys were excited to strut their wrestling stuff, impress the coach, and bring their team on to victory as that was exactly their roles in VA.

Practice here was, "More intense than VA, but I like it" according to the two.  And then the butt whooping began.  I couldn't believe it when I heard, after their first match, they were BOTH pinned in the first round. 

Wow.

It happened again and again and again. Pin.  Pin.  Pin.
And I noticed that all of a sudden, Colby felt like wrestling was dumb and even heard him say, "Maybe I'll try basketball again..."  It made me a bit nervous because Dallin tends to take on Colby's attitude about things.  He loves challenges, but he is also influenced by his older brother.

My biggest, well, OK, ONE of my biggest pet peeves (I have a bunch of big ones), is giving up on something because all of a sudden it's hard.  Changing your attitude to match your surroundings (things are good, so I'm good.  things are bad, so I'm bad)

Life's hard.  You fall down.  You face plant even.  But that doesn't mean anything.  It's the ones who work, who don't give up, who pull it out of their butts, that get somewhere in life.  Doesn't mean it was EVER easy, doesn't mean it was always fun.  It simply means, it's a good thing and good things oft times get very hard to do.

Apparently here in ID, wrestling is a big deal.  I've heard it from NUMEROUS people that most kids here begin wrestling at the same time they're potty trained.  The boys even used this as "rationalization as to why we suck and shouldn't be wrestling."

So we had a talk.  Long story short, I reminded them of their potential and reminded them that they really needed to be OK with doing difficult things.  And to not just "do" it, but to give it their all.

Giving their all was also not equivalent to winning.  I don't believe that at all.  Giving it your all is unleashing the beast and let whatever happens, happen.  Winning is simply a bonus.  I ran cross country in high school.  I unleashed that beast every race.  No one knew about it of course.  When you're 101 out of 105 runners, most don't see you as beastly.  Ghastly yes, beastly no.  But for me, I was the beast.  Cuz for me, the fact I finished was the prize.  My coach hated me.  The whole team hated me.  The fact that I ran 4 years as the slowest on my team and most hated tells you that yes, I had unleashed the beast!  :)

Last week after I picked the boys up from practice, Dallin goes, "Here's my plan.  Wrestle here until my senior year.  We move back to VA so I can go to state and be the state champion and then I can go to nationals and get beat by the guy from ID!"  I liked it actually.  It was a better attitude.

And this is why we decided we all needed to support the boys.  Let them know we supported them and simply wanted to see them give it their all and that we'd be there to cheer them on in the midst of being pummeled.  "I'd be happier seeing you lose giving it your all than win mediocrely"

Something happened out there today.  They both won their first matches.  Colby even won against a kid who I found out never loses.  Their 2nd matches they both lost.  And it was these 2nd matches that I noticed, they fought harder and when they lost, both felt like they could have won.  They both won their 3rd matches and suddenly found themselves wrestling for 3rd place.

Dallin's match was unbelievable.  5 seconds left of the 3rd period they were tied.  3 seconds left the other kid "escaped" and got 1 point ahead.  And that's when I saw the fire and determination in Dallin's eyes.  It was so cool.  After the kid escaped, Dallin literally chased and pounced, flipping the kid and earning himself 2 points literally as the clock hit 0.  The entire gym was screaming.  It was so cool.

And when Dallin walked off the mat, holy cow.  That look of pure satisfaction.  Pure relief.  That look only those who push through hard things can relate to.  I was so glad he had that experience!

Colby ended up having to wrestle the kid he had previously beat, the kid who "never loses."  After his first match with him, a complete stranger parent turned to me and said, "your son just beat a very strong wrestler."  When I heard Colby was going to wrestle him for 3rd place, I thought, "the opponent has mentally prepared himself to not lose to Colby again."

I noticed earlier the opponent watching Colby wrestle, I guess studying his moves.  Colby made a mistake that only an inexperienced wrestler would do.  He got down on his hands and knees with his back towards the ref.  The ref corrected him and had Colby turn around.  His opponent saw that and I'm sure realized, at that moment, that Colby was new to the sport.  The opponent had been wrestling since he was 5 I learned.  I think realizing Colby was new eased his concerns.

After 3 rounds, he went into overtime.  Who ever gets the first point, wins.  They wrestled and wrestled and wrestled.  It was at a point in the match that if the kid broke free from Colby, he'd win.  Colby had to hold on or flip him.  Colby tried and just like that, the kid broke free.  They both collapsed.  Colby out of frustration, his opponent out of elation.

And I couldn't be more proud of him.  More proud of them both. 

This is why I always say sports is such a great thing.  There's more to sports than meets the eye.  I felt, sincerely felt, like my boys learned something about themselves today.  I think they learned that they were capable of doing difficult things and accomplishing.  I couldn't teach them that as effectively as ID wrestling did today.

When I picked the boys up from school tonight, I heard the team captain yell out to Colby, "See you in track!" 

Track?  That's a new one.  Driving home I learned that Colby wants to run the 800, mile, and long jump.  Dallin wants to run hurdles and "see what distances I like". 

New challenges.  And thanks to a "crappy" wrestling season, the boys are up for it!

(Don't get me wrong, they'll still play soccer.  Apparently out here, kids can do both!)

My perfectly imperfect kids

Last week Ange came home a little out of sorts.  We chatted and I quickly learned that a girl at school was making fun of her hair.  "You have no hair" she told Ange.  And of course she didn't stop there.  "You're bald!  Why is your hair so short?"  She even told her she had a tiny face.

Several months ago I overheard her talking to her grandmother and she said, "I have baby hair."  Her grandmother said, "Oh no you don't!  It's beautiful!"

I cringed.

Lets back up a few ... decades.  When I was younger, my forehead was the bane of my existence.  It screamed at people, "I'm huge so please smack me with the palm of your hand any chance you get."  It was horrible.  I remember walking down the school hall and both friends and non friends at school would just, "palm smack" me right in my forehead. 

Hated.  My.  Life.  because of it.

Not to mention I had super thin, straight hair,  not even enough for bangs.  No help there.  Oh, and can't forget to mention, my dumbo ears that protruded out from my thin hair.  Just the tips of my ears.  Just enough to make me look remarkably ... elfish.  With a horking forehead.  Yeah, I was hotness.  When I hit puberty my hair up and got super curly, but the emotional damage had already been done.

My first bully was in 4th grade.  I remember her.  I had another bully in 5th.  There was a bully in 6th grade also, but she bullied everyone.  7th I had a bully who was, wait for it, also my best friend.  8th and 9th I was bully free.  High school I don't have any recollection of a bully.  Sports consumed me.  Maybe there was one but I seriously don't remember if I did. College pretty bully free, but ran into them again as a wife and  mother.

Now back to my daughter.  And our conversation.  She asked me if her hair was going to grow.  I was honest with her.  "You're hair is short, it's thin.  It may never grow like the other girls."  I needed to be honest with her.  She needed to know I'd be honest with her, so she'd believe everything I was going to say.

I pointed out that one of the coolest girls she knows is a girl on her soccer team in VA.  She only has 1 arm but she's the most outstanding athlete you'll ever meet.  And the entire team craved her attention.  I reminded her that, "She had something 'not perfect' she had to deal with, but look how perfectly she dealt with it!"

"Work the short hair girl!" was another piece of advice.  I truly felt that to take the approach of, "lets change things, lets try diet or biotin, or shampoos or wigs" was NOT the direction to take.  Lets be proud of who we are, what we are, every part of us.  Yes, her hair is thin and has a hard time growing, but the girl has a beautiful face,  trim figure, she's super athletic.  Her humor, her patience, her kindness.  Her smile, her relationship with her big brothers.   Her school smarts, her quick wit. (Not to mention parents who love each other but right now, she thinks it's gross when we kiss.  LOL!) 

I also reminded her that as long as she was female, mean girls were going to be a part of her life, forever.  I still get to deal with them.  It's pathetic.  But that's the beauty of her whole experience now.  She's going to learn how to deal with bullies.  I pointed out to her that even I, as an adult, get to deal with them. 

"You just learn to ignore them, plain and simple."  It's easier said than done, I know.  But the truth is, bullies, all bullies, are insecure and bottom line, if you're bullied it's because they are threatened by you.  So if they can find anything, ANYTHING to "level the playing ground" in their minds, they will.  And if it's saying you're bald, they'll say it. 

I was certainly bullied most of my life.  My forehead was the easiest target.

But then I started playing soccer.  (You can see where this is going.)  My forehead became my best friend, my biggest ally.  This forehead could head that soccer ball across the field, in any direction I pleased.  I've scored goals with this sucker.  I've made girls cry with this baby.  I love my forehead.

Each one of my kids is great.  Each one is perfectly imperfect.  I'm glad they have their imperfections.  The other day Addi said, "I'll never wear that (pointing to a bikini) because I have a hairy back!"  Hilarious!  I can hear it now.  She'll be called gorilla back or something.  She's going to have to deal with it.  And as much as I initially want to protect them from it, I decide instead that better than protect them, arm them.  And in my opinion arming them is being honest with them, helping them to see that no, they are not perfect, but guess what, it's OK.  And it's OK because guess what?  They are better than perfect.  They are Heavenly Father's children, sent here to Earth, to have experiences that will strengthen them and improve them.

And that's one of the coolest things to see in your child.  Improving themselves.  Strengthening themselves.

1st week in ID

We've been here in ID now for a tad over 1 week.  Honestly, it's been great. 

Have you ever transplanted a ... plant?  I have.  I'm not green thumb now, but when I was little, I was.  I did lots of transplanting.  You dig the plant up, careful to not bruise or hurt the roots, and put it in another area of your garden/yard.  You have to make sure the new hole is large enough to not hurt the roots, make sure there's TONS of water, and almost "over care" for your new plant. 

You transplant for many reasons.  Maybe beautify other areas of the yard, keep areas of the garden from choking on itself, or maybe just cuz you're bored and want to.

But regardless, I know that at FIRST, the plant seems to die.

So I kinda relate completely to this.  We left my beloved, precious, wonderful Virginia and came here to Idaho.  A brand new place.  I've never been here.  Actually, I take that back.  I visited my sister when she was in college at Ricks.  So I've been to Rexburg.  For like, a weekend or something.

Anyways, we came here because Matt finished school and got a job here.  And really, everything totally fell into place for us to come here.  I will blog about that, too.  But later.

As much as I hated leaving, deep down inside, I knew it was right to come here.

I think I was transplanted to keep from choking on myself.  Let me rephrase that.  To slow my life down.

Life was great in VA.  Truly.  Great.  So great that I was going about 100K miles a minute.  Coaching, photography, sewing, working at the gym.  Running kids around.  Dropping things at the last minute to do 10 last minute things.  It was quite hectic.  My days just sped by.  I loved it.  I thrive on busy.  But it may have gotten too busy.  I knew deep down inside that "busy was speeding up my time with my small children."

So the Lord transplanted me.  He transplanted me carefully.  Lovingly.  Getting things in order to leave VA ran so smoothly.  Renters for both houses, smooth cross country trip, great weather, car functioned perfectly.  We found a great place here.  Matt's job totally took care of things.  The first week here has already shown me that He transplanted me to "fertile" and "well kept" ground.  I joke that this place sorta reminds me of "The Truman Show" because people here are so incredibly NICE!  From bankers, to school counselors, to teachers, strangers on the street, to ward members.  Small town kindness all around.

And still I struggle.  For some reason, I'm exhausted.  Like, really tired.  I'm in a fog.  In a funk.  I mourn VA at the same time I rejoice in the new adventure.  I meet new people, then feel the void that saying bye to my friends in VA left.  Driving around VA, I was always on auto-pilot.  I'd go from point A to point B and not even remember the trip!  Now as I drive, I almost feel over stimulated as I navigate this small town.  And not having a high speed agenda has, in some weird way, made me super lazy feeling. 

I think I'm experiencing the "dying" part of a transplant.

But I know that the plant doesn't actually die.  It grows stronger actually.  A transplant, if done correctly, is ALWAYS a good thing.  So I have faith that I will only grow stronger from this.  In due time, I'll see so clearly the reason the Lord transplanted me here.

I already feel like one of those reasons truly was to slow things down.  I may or may not take up my photography business.  I'm actually dappling with the thought of turning my attention to learning how to play the guitar!  :)  And turn my attention back to writing more.  We'll see, we'll see.

Idaho has been great though.  I really am excited for this new adventure.  The Lord was in charge of this transplant, so I can say, hands down and with complete confidence, this transplant was indeed a GOOD thing.

Thoughts through this whole move

I really need to start writing more.  It's so therapeutic.  And as we were packing up the basement, I ran across my college journal.  I was good at writing my thoughts down.  And talk about a rush of memories that came over me.  It's a good thing to write.

I don't even know where to start.  We're reading in the Book of Mormon right now about Nephi and his family having to leave the comforts of their home to travel to unknown places and how hard it was on them.  I find it interesting that we're in this section of the Book of Mormon at this time in my life.

Not at ALL comparing myself to Nephi or his family, but feeling better that he actually took the time to make it a point to share the facts that they liked life where they were at and didn't really want to move.

I love life where I'm at.  There's so much I love about this place, about my life here, that moving is very VERY low on my "want to do" list.  Months ago, before we knew what we were doing, Colby would say, "I bet we're moving cuz life here's just too good." 

Interesting to hear a then 13 year old say that.

That said, I feel good about it.  I really, really do.  In about a months time we have to pack up the house, move, Matt has to take his PANCE the day before we pack the truck.  We find out how Matt did pretty much when we get to ID.  Going to a place I've never been to, well, I don't need to write all this down.  Needless to say, I'm so overwhelmed and tired that I've become incoherent!  I can't follow my train of thought when I talk to people.  I have even caught myself stuttering!  I'll start to talk and then totally forget what my train of thought was.

Hmmmm, I actually do this on a regular basis.  :)

Anyways, in my heart of hearts, I feel good about this.  AND IT'S SO INTERESTING that I found out Dirk passed away THE DAY AFTER we find out about our move.  Why?  Because it was my experience with Dirk that was so similar to this one.  I wanted to be with him, but just knew it wasn't right.  I want to be here, but I just know it's right to move.  So as overwhelmed as I am about this move, I know it'll be OK.

And the other day, I had a distinct feeling that we'd be back.  When?  Who knows.  But I did feel like we'd return.  Which put a hop in my step!!  :)

I had an interesting talk with my older boys regarding this trip.  We were talking about how it's sad to move, but they are excited for the new adventure.  I mentioned that it's a new chapter in life.  And how sad it is for me to close chapters.  And how I identify "chapters" in my life with moves.  Physical moves.  Elementary and middle school for me was TX, high school was Germany, college was UT, mission was Brazil.  Brand new mom was VA.  And as we begin to close this chapter, I get sad.

But I pointed out that every single time I'd close a chapter, I felt sad.  And that was a good thing.  Never have I said, "I am soooo glad that time of my life is OVER!"  The boys then asked, "Did you say that about high school?"  I said no, that I'd return to my high school years in a heart beat.  That I'd return to any chapters of my life in a heart beat.  And that was a good sign in my opinion because it meant that so far, I've enjoyed all chapters of my life.

Then the boys said, "well, if someone says they hated high school, it's not their fault!" 

And then began my soap box moment.  I didn't say each chapter was easy.  Definite hard times in every phase of my life, but hard doesn't mean bad.  And I said "if you ever say you hated a phase of life, that's not good.  Because it's all about the attitude."  It was at some of my darkest moments that I truly felt Heavenly Father's tender mercies, and knowing, or being reminded that God loves you and is mindful of you, that's empowering.

Virginia is, for me, the mecca of my soul-sisters.  I know for a FACT that before this life, there were a handful of girls that I hung out with, laughed with.  And I know we supported each other in the pre life.  And I know we made promises to each other to reconnect here on Earth.  And we have.  And we'll stay connected.  We pretty much picked up on Earth where we left off in Heaven.  Sounds cheesy but it's true. 

OK, I better go.  I just re-read this post.  It's all over the place!!  But guess what, my brain is all over the place, so there.  And speaking of all over the place, I need to clean up the family room.  It's a mess!!