October Tidbits

Georgie was taking a shower (the bathtub isn't working yet), and said he was done.  On being reminded to rinse the bubbles from his armpits, very loud laughing and giggling was heard from the bathroom.

When Freddie heard someone raising their voice, he said, "Hey!  You should be more like me.  Sometimes I am mad, but when I'm not, I always try really hard not to be mad."

Angel insisted that she could do a good job washing her own hair - and then got distracted and didn't wash out all the shampoo.  Or didn't wash her scalp.  Or something, but ended up with an itchy head.  She scratched it so energetically that she made sores in the thin skin of her scar before we could get rid of the itch.  Here's hoping it heals up quickly.

Alec and I were visiting while he was working on his car in Opa's driveway.  He's got a concealed carry permit, and he let me hold his gun - after he took the bullets out.  Can't have a crazy mother shooting up the neighborhood!

Ben ran into an old elementary school friend.  The boy didn't recognize Ben at first, but thought he looked familiar.  Ben remembered the boy and introduced himself.  The old friend's eyes lit up, "Oh yeah!  But I thought you had red hair!"  He does still.

Trent and I spent the weekend at a marriage retreat.  It was pretty incredible.  So many good things... that I wish I had known decades ago.  It's never too late to learn a better way to do things, so I'll start today.  We found it so valuable that we decided to gift the class - plus a 3-night hotel stay - to each of our children as a wedding present.

Side note: the kids at home managed pretty well (with some Grandma help) while we were gone, but were relieved to see us back.  I'm happy to take over Mom duties.

Chris had a girl leave a note on his motorcycle, complimenting his bike and asking for a ride.  Now we know why he got a bike...

David is the high school's production of Les Miserables!  He is loving learning the songs and we love hearing them around the house.  He just had a choir concert that made me laugh and cry.  I so enjoy going to music concerts that that my boys are in!  I'm missing the junior high band concerts right now.

Eddie has finished a few art projects and is really enjoying the class.  I'm kind of bummed he didn't take cooking because I like the homework he would have gotten.  He is doing fabulously in his classes.

Fall is in full swing, and the canyons are gloriously bedecked!  Go out and take a ride this week if you can.  Bonus points for taking a cute girl.

Announcing an Addition!

Alec has been busy since he got home.  He had to renew his driver's license, get a job, find an apartment, figure out what he was going to do for college, find some transportation...  Whew.  Adulting is a lot of hard work!  High on his list of priorities was getting back to this pretty gal he hadn't seen for two years.  It's a long time to be apart.

Unwilling to be apart any longer, they didn't waste any time to become engaged and start planning a wedding.  

Yeah, ring-buying is another one of those adulty things than takes some good decision-making skills and grown-up amounts of money.  I'll just be a wee bit flattered that he wanted a small amount of assistance from Mom.

I read something somewhere that said the purpose of a parent, when dealing with children, was to introduce the children to new things and help them figure out how to deal with those new things.  Short of having his own children, I don't think there is really anything new of significance to introduce to this boy.  So good luck on your adulting!  Have a happy marriage!  Be a responsible human being!  I'm pretty excited for them to learn all kinds of new things - now together.

It's fun to watch your kids grow up (especially when you get to continue calling them "my baby" in secret.  Shh!).

P.S.  I'm not dealing very well with the idea of becoming a mother-in-law.  I have two of the sweetest, kind-hearted women for my mothers-in-law, so that helps.  But it just sounds sinister, doesn't it?  It seems only a small step down from "wicked step-mother."  I hope I can be a reasonably good mother-in-law.  I do like my future daugher-in-law - I think she's just what my boy needs!

And I miss my mom, who could help introduce me to this new thing and help me figure out how to deal with it well.  We never outgrow our mothers.

Happy Valentine's Day

We were cleaning out some storage areas, where my mom had kept all her holiday decorations.  I'm not sure what happened to the valentine wreath, but we found Christmas wreaths in this box.  Most importantly, we found this love note on the box.

My parents were married nearly 45 years before she passed away.  As I'm helping my dad with his history, he glosses over tough areas (whether intentionally or he really can't remember, I don't know) and highlights his love for my mother.  I know there were hard times - some I witnessed, and some my mom told me about later.  I remember going to my bedroom at night after there had been some negative feelings and pressing my ear to their door in an attempt to see if their murmured voices were having an argument.  I couldn't ever tell.  They never fought in front of us.  

No relationship is without its ups and downs, but I'm glad they stuck it out together.  Still in love is an inspiration.  

Happy Valentine's Day, you sweethearts.

Date Night

We had a hot date.  At least, I was hoping it would be hot because I have been so cold.  It was his turn to plan, but it was late and I was tired and cold and didn't want to do anything but curl up on the couch with a big blanket.

So he bundled me up and took me to the bookstore.  We browsed a bit and then sat.  It was delightful to be out together.

How lucky am I to have this wonderful man in my life!

I Kinda Hate Weddings

Oh, what a terrible thing to say!  Aren't we supposed to love weddings and get all happy and teary-eyed at them?  Maybe.  I don't know whether we can really assign "supposed to" and "should" to our feelings.

Before I get too far, let me explain that I love marriage.  I love the idea of a good woman finding a good man and making pledges and promises to love and support each other no matter what.  I love the idea of two people turning into husband and wife and starting their own family.  I really, tryuly believe that is the best way to find happiness and growth on this earth.

It's just the wedding itself that is hard for me.

I went to a wedding recently.  I went by myself, which is a rare opportunity.  I got to sit by myself, have my own thoughts, and enjoy the quiet.  I took the train and listened to the excited chatter of the group at the back of my train car.  They were missionaries headed to the airport and excited about their next adventures.  I smiled over them and loved seeing them, as any mother of a missionary does.  I said a silent prayer in my heart for them and missionaries across the world - young people away from home, trying to do what is right.  In a few years, they will be done with missions and looking to find their own mate they can commit to and love.

I took a bus from the train and walked a few blocks to get to the wedding.  It was beautiful and full of love.  I couldn't help but think of my own wedding when I was as young as they were - 23 years ago.  I was thinner and simpler then.  My only worries were getting through college and loving on the handsome man who had asked me to be his forever.  I miss that young Jay. I should have been expecting an emotional crash, this sweet young couple were married in the same temple we were all those years ago.  I didn't realize it until I got inside the temple and felt the quiet, but I hadn't been back in this particular temple since Jay passed away.  Then I crashed.

 I hate crying in front of other people, I really do.  Besides, this was a wedding - a happy time!  Who wants people to be sad-crying big sobs of heartache at a wedding?  That would be bad.  I didn't want to mar their happy day, and I managed to hold it in until after the ceremony was over.  But it was hard, and uncomfortable to sit there alone.  Everyone is happy and celebrating togetherness, and I sit there by myself.  It's hard sometimes.

 After the well-wishes, I found the nearest bathroom and gave permission to the tears.  I've learned not to fight the sad when it comes.  It's too hard and too raw and too real.  My poor heart is wounded more by the sharp edges being stuffed back in than in the release of the emotions.  Crying in bathrooms is good because there is plenty of tissue, and cold water to splash on your face when you are done.

I will always be a widow.  Yes, I've remarried and chosen to share my life again.  But those first memories of being a newlywed - a young wife - will always be a big part of me.  We fit together, we learned together, we grew up together.  My life was shaped by his as we figured out how to live harmoniously together.  That doesn't go away.  Neither does the pain of his loss.  He was only 38 - far too young to go.  I never would have imagined being left a widow at 33.  Far too young.

But I survived.  And I fought my way through the waves of grief that, over time, don't crash over me quite so viciously, or hold me under quite so cruelly.  I've learned to pick myself up and keep going.  I've learned that if you cry with your head bent over your lap then the tears fall straight down into your tissue instead of running down your face first.  I've learned when not to wear mascara.  I've learned to sob silently.  And I've learned how to cherish Jay's memory without making my heart sting.  I've learned how to let my heart grow by accepting new things of love and beauty.  I've learned to accept that this part of me will always be there.

I'm better for having gone through all that.  The fight made me stronger.  I'm softer because of the pain.  The grief gave me compassion.  The heartache taught me to rely on the Lord, and He has always been a rush of peace for my aching.

Family Reunions at the Temple

The whole reason we were able to pull in 6 families from more than 3,000 miles is this.

 

The first grandchild was getting married, and he and his wife-to-be decided to get married here, in the temple.  We believe that there is a scared sealing power in the temple that can tie a family together for eternity.  It just doesn't make sense that something you worked so hard on for your whole life would just be gone when you die.  We believe that families are forever.

One of the things we did at the reunion (or rather, as we were traveling to it) was to take pictures of your family in front of any temple you passed. 

 

All together, I think we got pictures of  14 different temples.

 It was fun to see the different families as they sent in their pictures.  We went out of our way to be at the temples, but it wasn't a trouble.

 Because really, this is all worth it.

 

For more information about forever families, click here.

Bids for Attention

Trent showed me this article the other day, and wanted to discuss it with me.  My first reaction, since I was in the middle of something else (probably something of great urgency and importance, like reading the news), went like this, "Yeah, honey, I read that one several weeks ago."  But then as I paused and re-thought my initial comment, and remembered what the article was about, I had to stop and turn toward him and listen.

The article, "Science Says Lasting Relationships Come Down To 2 Basic Traits," talked about the two things that all successful relationships have in common.  I boil the paragraphs and paragraphs of research and testing and analysis down to this: relaxing with each other, and responding in a loving way.

The relaxing part seems pretty straightforward, except that you have to be relaxed and feel loving on a physiological level, not just acting chill or being lazy.  You have to be, deep down, at peace with your relationship.

And the loving responses result from how you react - whether you turn toward them or away from them - when your partner makes a bid for your attention.  Like, "Hey, look at this interesting article I just read."  Oops.  I turned away by downplaying the reading and making it look like what I was doing was more important to me than listening to him.

I repent.  And I will try to be more mindful in my responses, and make my heart more soft, loving, and at peace with my life.

Because this:  I love my man, and I'm gonna keep him.

Snuggled Up Together

I am the oldest daughter of an oldest daughter, so my mother always told me that when I found a suitable suitor, I could have Grandmother's 1/3 carat diamond to use in my ring.  When I was in college, my beau and I went ring-shopping a few times, browsing and joking about the "great diamond-buying conspiracy" so many of our peers went into debt for.  One day, just before final exams, I found the the ring that sang for me.  It had simple and graceful swoops and was smooth enough that it wouldn't catch when I put my hand in my pocket.  I loved it.

We had a hard time catching the attention of a clerk in the store, who didn't believe that we wanted to buy instead of just look.  Then he didn't believe we wanted it now instead of Jay coming back later to surprise me with it.  He didn't believe we didn't want it sized (it fit perfectly), or that we didn't want a diamond to replace the customary CZ in the setting (Grandma's diamond was going there), or that we could pay cash for it instead of preferring a payment plan.  I've never had so much trouble getting someone to take my money!

After it was purchased and we showed it to my parents, my mother guiltily admitted she had lost Grandma's diamond ring.  We still left the CZ in my ring, and it sparkled just as bright for me - a reminder of our poor college student days.

I wore my rings every day and loved them.  Jay wore his ring every day, and it made me happy to see his ring shine while he held my hand.  When he died, 7 years after being diagnosed with cancer and 13 years after we were married, my ring got uncomfortable.

After about a week I took it off and examined it, only to find that the once-circular ring had been compressed into a smaller oval shape as I had maneuvered him and his wheelchair around the narrow hallways in our home .  It squashed my finger and I couldn't wear it anymore.  I took it to be cleaned and they offered to reshape the ring, but I liked it squashed.  It  reminded me that I had been a good wife all the way through to the end.

I cleaned the ring and shined up the brilliant little CZ.  Now it lives in its original green velvet box, snuggled up next to Jay's ring.  That's where they should be - together.

Valentine's Weeks

They lasted.  Who knew that roses would last?  Usually they are droopy after a couple of days, sad-looking but still fragrant at four days, and begging to be removed before a week is up.  My sweet husband bought me an enormous bouquet of roses and lilies for Valentine's Day, and they lasted for more than three weeks!  I love the gorgeous fragrance every time I walk down the hall.

Can you smell them from this picture?  Mmmm...

Maybe he really loves me after all, to get me the magic kind of roses.  

Thanks, Dear.  I love you, too.

Happy Valentine's Day

What a happy day!  Sometimes.  In college I wore black to commemorate the day, but now I have more people to love - and less time to worry about myself - so I like the day much more.

I got little treats for each of the kids, but nothing Pinterest-worthy.  Love doesn't show up on Pinterest very well, anyway.  Trent surprised me with a giant bouquet of roses and lillies!  It was gorgeous and smells so good.  I love walking around the corner where the vase stands and just breathing it all in.  

Angel made (ok, I made) little books to give all of her classmates.  She loves nothing more than folding a piece of paper in half a few times, stapling one side, and trimming the edges to make a little book to write in.  So we made Valentine books with heart-printed paper for all her little friends.

Eddie made a Valentine Death Star to put his valentines into.  Out of cardboard and duct tape.  That morning.  I guess that is about what a sixth grade boy thinks of The Day of Love.

Happy Birthday to Us

We have an odd tradition in our family, and it involves pizza and china.  But we like it, and no one complains, so I think we'll keep it.

Many moons ago (286, to be exact!), I went to the temple and married a nice man.  It was the most beautiful wintery day - cold and clear, the sunshine glinting off the clean snow like a thousand diamonds.  We wanted to remember that day and celebrate it forever.

But the next year, the end of our college classes got in the way, so we didn't celebrate it much.  The next year, there were Christmas parties that night, so we didn't celebrate it again.  By the third year, with a toddler and a bun in the oven, we realized that getting away to celebrate our anniversary during Christmas would be difficult.  So we decided to change it to a family birthday party.  It is the date that our family started, after all.  We started a new tradition of having pizza on our fanciest dishes, eating by candlelight, and topping it off with birthday cake.  That was a tradition we could handle during the hustle of a holiday season.

When Jay died, the tradition was all the more special to us.  But when Trent and I married, it became a bit awkward.  How do you celebrate your anniversary to your first spouse while you are married to your second?  Fortunately, Trent is very easy-going and does not mind celebrating our family birthday party with us.  It is when our family started, and we love our family.  So break out the pizza!

This year, due to our active 4-year-olds, we decided to forgo the candles.  Safer that way.  But we did make the old-fashioned punch that I remember having at family parties growing up.  It's the really difficult kind, with rainbow sherbet and orange soda dumped in.  I think we used some raspberry creme soda in there, too.  I can handle this meal.  

We put olives on our fingers, dabbed the corners of our mouths with fancy embossed napkins, and held our pinky fingers out so daintily as we guzzled punch.  And we didn't even break any china.  Yeah, I think we'll do it again next year.

Happy New Year!

So far, it has been a happy new year.  That shouldn't be surprising.  Everyone tells you to be happy about it.  But this year, for the first time in a long time, I really feel happy.  I am encouraged about the start of a new year, and I really think it will be better than the last.

I'm not sure why I feel happy about the new year.  Usually New Year's Eve finds me weeping over all the things that went awry over the year, and bedding a sad farewell to the things I dreamed would happen.  But this year - not so much.  Could it be that I am at peace with living with my dad and caring for him?  Could it be that we hung out in our Christmas jammies all day?  Could it be the joy from seeing my two oldest boys serving missions?  Could it be that I am figuring out that I am better than I thought I was?  Could it be that my relationship with my husband is better than it has been in years?  Could it be that I didn't drink the eggnog that I accidentally let go sour (what a waste!)?  I'll let go of the why and just be happy for my new year.

I think it will be a great one!

Happy Anniversary to Me

21 years since Jay and I got married.  I am celebrating the day by I am not celebrating.  I just don't feel like it today.  I've been missing him in a bad way.  Sometimes I just wonder if it will ever get any easier, or if the tears will stop coming.  And sometimes I don't care.

We will have a family birthday party on Saturday, though, with white grape juice and pizza on our fancy dishes.  And maybe, if I'm feeling festive by then, I'll even make Jay's cheesecake.  Maybe.

Hot and Steamy

Love.  I love this man, even when it's hot and steamy.  And even when he's sweaty.  Just because I decided to.

And for the record, it was hot here!

Men Have Toys Too

We have an iPhone.  An almost-new, perfectly good one.  But then Alec got a new, non-iPhone.  It was newer and cooler and best-er.  He showed it to Trent and they compared phones and apps and features and coolness levels.  Alec won.  So Trent just had to get a newer phone, too.

So if a man gets a new toy,

He will have to play with it.  And if he starts playing with it, he will need to look up and hook up all new cool things.

And if he spends time getting the new toy working, it will get later.

And if it gets too much later, his wife may just go to the bedroom without him and read a book.  By herself.  

And if it gets too much later, 

she may try to bribe him to come to bed.

But if it gets too much later.

She may just give up and eat it herself.

Sorry, Sweetheart.  But then again, I really don't feel all that bad.

And that's the truth.

Pillow Talk

We have too many pillows on the bed.  It reminds me of the scene in Regarding Henry where he first comes home from the hospital and goes to bed.  He lays down - or tries to - but there are too many pillows to let him get horizontal.  He reaches behind his head and pulls them out, one at a time, and flings them across the room.

I do this every night.

I have a pillow or two for under my head.  My man has the same.  And since we have a large bed, there is another one or two to fill out the row.  And then there are two large decorative pillows and two small ones on top.  And somehow, there are no fewer than six other pillows in the middle.  Why?

Why indeed.

I have to have a taller pillow to support my shoulder or I'll have pins and needles in my arm and hand the next day.  All day long.  And it can't be too hard or I wake up with an earache.  And it can't be too soft or I feel like I'm suffocating.

His pillows have to be right so he doesn't strain his years-ago-dislocated shoulder.  And so he doesn't make too much noise while sleeping.  And a few more for tucking around here and there.

I'm feeling like a picky eater, writing this out.  It shouldn't be this difficult, should it?  So we keep shopping for the "right" pillow, and accumulate all the fails.  One day we'll find a great one.  Maybe.  Actually, I'm giving up hope.

Meanwhile, we have plenty of ammo for a great pillow fight.  Wanna come over?

The 90 Percent Off Sale

I'm giggling.  It's just funny how different two people can be.

All I'll say is that I got up at midnight to take this picture before he could hide the evidence.  And that the people at the store love to see him come in when they have put their clearance racks up.

If we might one day need one of something, then five are better, especially if they are on sale.  And if an item is normally of questionable use, then it is a no-brainer if it is on sale.

I love this man!  And I'm so glad that he puts up with my quirks, too.  Like when I get the giggles late at night.

Building Relationships

So we've been working on the chicken coop.  And we've been changing our minds again.  This is four major overhauls of the design so far.  I say so far because I'd be really surprised if there isn't another change.  Even though I'd like to just pick one.  And stick to it.  And get building already.

I've heard that building a house together can really strain a marriage relationship.  There are even vows you need to add to your marriage before embarking on a building project.  Any large undertaking can tax a struggling marriage - buying a new house, a new job, pregnancy, reunions, vacationing, children, breakfast...

Yeah, we've had a few struggles.  And we're just building a coop, for chickens' sake!

That about sums it up.

I wanted to just lay out 4x4s and build on that.  Trent built a sturdy foundation of two courses of cinder block.  I'd like the coop to have a lower profile and fit in the yard better.  He wants it to be a full eight feet - plus the peaked roof.  Sometimes when I've made a suggestion, he smiles and gives me the "that's nice honey but that's not how we're going to do it" look.  A year ago, that would have bothered me.  Actually, I would have been spitting nails.

But now (after a year of counseling!) we both smile and laugh a little.  I know that there is a particular way that he thinks is proper and right.  And I know that I don't have to cave in and and become a doormat when there is something I think is important.  His view count.  My views count, too.

But the most important view is the one that we see together,

Sorry for the mushy.  I've just been glad that we can work together - and enjoy it!