excuse me while i wax poetic.

fall does something to me.

the sights and sounds of the season awake my senses in a way that make me feel as if they have been hibernating for too many months.

the smells, both inside and out.  the colors.  the feeling in the air.  the cozy comfort of being bundled up, whether in a warm coat and hat, or in a comfy blanket.  the day turning into night faster.  the smell from the furnace when it kicks on those first few times.  putting the down comforter on the bed.  spiced cider.  waking up to frost on the grass.  snuggling, with the whole family, on the couch underneath thick blankets.

those things are all wonderful, they all evoke a happy, contented feeling in me, but the thing that I am really thinking of, the thing that consumes my mind the majority of this wonderful time, are the wonderful first memories of motherhood.  the poignant memories of all those firsts.  these thoughts, while they make me feel happy, leave me feeling homesick at the same time.

homesick for those firsts, for the simple days of being home, with the world entirely shut outside, with a new little person.  life was so much simpler then. 

both lynn and ash were born in the fall.  I was pregnant with all three girls in the fall.  for me, fall will always hold that feeling of new life, being pregnant (and loving every second of it), anticipating the exciting arrival of a new little person, soon to enter our home.  all of the fun preparations and the anticipation are feelings I still feel when this season hits.

lynn being born, all of those firsts, are linked with the colors outside, that crisp scent to the air.  smelling and seeing these things takes me back to becoming a mother, feeling so fulfilled and joyful.  these are also connected to ashley’s birth, and life becoming just a little more complicated, but entirely enjoyable, with our little family, in our little house, with everything else shut out.  it was just us, and it was sweet.

I crave my children being small, being home.  the days before our home was opened to the world, to school, to other people’s thoughts, beliefs, and ideas.  when our time was our own, we had to answer to no one.  there was no such thing as homework, or difficult situations dealing with children that aren’t in our family, all of those other outside influences.  I miss being able to load up, go to grandma’s house for the day, staying there and playing, talking, maybe working on a quilt or other project, coming home in time to make dinner.  we had nothing else holding us down.  I miss the days when it was all so much simpler. 

there was nothing better than snuggling a baby all day long.  no chore more pleasant than taking care of that baby, nursing and changing diapers, rocking and singing lullabies.  the days went all too fast and left memories all too sweet.

there is also something to be said for the preparatory phase of a new one’s arrival.  the only thing as fulfilling as taking care of that infant was preparing our home for their arrival.  cleaning, decorating, washing and folding the tiny laundry, getting our home ready for a new person.  that was the meaning of life to me.

it still is.  and while the tiny ones aren’t so tiny anymore, I still love the life I live.  I still embrace every season of life, I know I have a lot to look forward to, but I can’t help that fall makes me feel homesick for those early days.

treasure found.

while cleaning the c drive the other day, I found one file folder that read “mom’s”.

that was vague and mysterious enough to have me wonder what it was, and instead of deleting it immediately (pffft.  like I would do that..) I played it.

I am not going to lie when I tell you it brought tears to my eyes.

I forgot this even existed.

it is only a few seconds, but they are wonderful seconds.

ashley’s birthday

it was october 5th, 2004.  ashley made her way into this world via emergency c-section.

my plan for how that day was supposed to go, was completely thrown out the window.

as I look back on that day, I remember how wonderful it was, but realize how terrifying it must have been for merrill.  I have nothing but wonderful memories.  sure, I was nervous.  but it was one of the four most wonderful days of my life.

those days are in the past, the seconds have ticked by way too fast.

eight years later…

and here we are!

happy birthday my little ashley.

for the record:

- you LOVE anything and everything coconut.

- you are not “short”, you are “fun-sized”.

- you love soccer.

- despite your energy level and active little body, you are not exhausted at the end of the day.  you are a night owl.  (one more item to add to the short list of traits you inherited from me.)

- you want tacos for your birthday dinner tonight.  my bet is that you eat the leftover tomatoes.

- you are so excited to be baptized!

- I can’t tell you what your favorite color is.  I am not sure, it seems to change weekly now.  just a couple of weeks ago, it was orange.  you wanted your whole room orange!  then it was fuchsia, then blue, and now, well as of yesterday anyway, it is maroon.

- you have suddenly turned into a neat freak.  your room hasn’t been messy for 2 weeks now!

- you are so thoughtful.  you asked for a coconut cake for your birthday, but realizing that lynn and dad don’t care for coconut, you asked if I could make a chocolate cake too.

we are so happy to have you as our favorite middle child!

the post that was more than a week in the making.

you know when something big happens in your life, and it has really affected you?  you know how you have to sit on it, think about it, let it percolate a bit, just so you can get everything out of it that you possibly can?  well, I have had one of those experiences.

one of the leaders from my youth passed away a couple of weeks ago.

she was a miracle.

she had been diagnosed with a rare form of sarcoma eight years ago.  the doctors didn’t give her much time.  but she fought.  it was a most excellent fight.

numbers upon number of surgeries, countless hours spent either enduring chemo or radiation, and the even more countless hours of pain and sickness, and she was not one to complain.

everytime there was a new development in her health, she would post something she was thankful for on facebook.  her positivity was amazing.

right after the new year, she was rushed to the hospital, and was told then that she didn’t have much time left.  but I believe that she was ready.

she is such an example to me.  as I reflect back on the parts of her life that have directly affected me, I am thankful for what she taught me.

theresa was called to be young women’s president when I was 16 (funny fact, she was the age that I am now when she was called..).  I was the bishop’s daughter, their family had just moved into the ward from out of state, and I didn’t know her well.  add to these factors that the previous presidency had been in for nearly the previous 4 years, and i had grown to love them dearly .  it was a hard change.

now I am not using that as an excuse for my behavior (more to come on that), it’s just that being a teenager is hard enough, add to that changes (which I am not good at dealing with), and you can get a not too chipper kid.

that being said, I was a brat.

I never said anything purposely hurtful to her, I was not mean-spirited, I was just unhappy, not excited about this change, not excited about someone I basically knew nothing about.  I didn’t treat her with the respect she deserved.

but she didn’t treat me any differently.

she still cared about me, was so incredibly friendly to me, treated me with much more respect than I was sure I deserved.  things improved little by little over time, teaching me these little lessons all the while, little lessons that I didn’t realize were just that until I was more mature.  but the biggest lesson she taught me, personally, came that summer.

I used to be the most homesick kid you ever met.  I couldn’t even go two doors down for a sleep-over with my best friend without getting homesick.  there were times I was able to tough it out and stay the night, then there were those other times I would call my parents and they would come walk me home at 10:30 at night.  it didn’t get any better as I got older.  (I blame my family for making me love them so much, blame my mom for making home such a wonderful place to be.) 

this particular summer, I was called to be a youth leader for an all girls church camp (remember “laurel legacy” anyone?).  it meant a week away from my family, my home, my room, and my friends, to stay in a tent with five other girls, none of whom I knew outside of this experience.  there would be girls coming from my ward and stake later in the week, but I wouldn’t be staying with them.  I would get to see them, but when it came to the bulk of my time, I was with these other girls who attended different stakes, different schools.  I grew incredibly homesick.

I spent most of my time those first three days praying, crying, reading my scriptures, and praying more.  out of desperation, I wrote my mom a letter.  it was quite miserable.  looking back on it, it was a pretty silly idea, because, how was I going to get it to my mom?  it wasn’t like there was mail service there.  while I would like to say that it helped, it really didn’t.

the day came when all the girls from the wards and stakes arrived, and with it, their leaders.  MY leaders.

I saw theresa’s face.  I ran to her, and she opened her arms and hugged me while I cried on her shoulder.  she didn’t let go, she didn’t push me away, she just held onto me.  I think she even cried a little herself.  she reassured me that I would be fine.  I remember her telling me that things would get so busy after that that I wouldn’t even have time to be homesick.  she even waited while I ran back to my tent to get that letter for my mom.  she would deliver it.

as I look back, realizing what a brat I was,  I think of how undeserving I was of her grace.  would I have treated someone who wasn’t so kind to me that way? 

I have thought of that often.  while my inner thoughts might not match up to my outward actions, I am hoping that they will match up, that I can have truly loving, kind, and charitable thoughts about everyone, regardless of how they have treated me in the past.

I am so grateful that she treated me better than I deserved.

I am thankful to know that where she is, there is no more pain and illness for her.  I am thankful for the knowledge I have that she will be whole, with her family for eternity.  I am so thankful for her Christlike example, that will undoubtedly stay with me for the rest of my life.

because i suck at stuff.

so with part of our tax return, i got seven sorts of excited about a two terabyte (2 TB) external hard drive, and bought it.  one of those seven sorts of excited primarily dealt with all the cds worth of images i have, and need to preserve in a better way. 

i discovered problems with a disc from 2005 while putting together lynn’s little picture disc for her baptism.  yeah, I remember totally reading an article years ago in creating keepsakes about how long those discs will last, yada yada yada..  and yup, years later, i am finally doing something about it!

sadly, the one picture i was after on that one disc, not able to bring it up…

(yeah..  so I got this thing back in..  it was a while ago, and now, I am really getting to my precious preserving?..  see, I suck at stuff.)

so here i am, before any more time is wasted, getting around to putting all of those discs onto that hard drive.

(helps that i can’t seem to sleep..)

*sigh*

it is a bittersweet thing to do.

i give you reasons why:

(most of them circa 2006)

lynn still gives me this dirty look:

sad to see that lynnie-lou wore this shirt not that long ago, and now peyton fits into it.

don’t believe me, see the header…

but glad to know that they are still this close…

i just can’t help but wonder where the time has gone.. 

we sat and watched the girls swim tonight.  all three of them, going all over the pool, jumping off the diving board, totally belly-flopping, but loving it.  laughing, playing, splashing together…

i am afraid to blink.

i see where we are, completely loving it, but remember all too well where we just were.  to be completely honest, i am a little homesick for it.

oh my goodness…  there are so many more like this.

Dear momma,

I learned a lesson yesterday while watching “The Brady Bunch” with my bunch.

You should have given me a little sister.

(It would have been helpful if you had named her Cindy, but that probably would have caused more than a few moments of confusion, as Cindy and Mindy sound a little too alike.)

You see, Marsha (Marsha!  Marshaaaa!!) had a diary in this particular episode, she wrote incessantly about Desi Arnaz Jr. in it. 

(She was crushing on him just a little.)

Then, while collecting items for Goodwill, innocent little sis Cindy, gave away Marsha’s diary, thinking it was just some random old book.

You’ll never guess what happened next mom…  well, after Marsha freaked out, and gave little Cindy the silent treatment.  (Of course, because what else does one do when their little sister has wronged them in such a way?)

The family took every chance they could to find that old diary.  But guess who had it mom?

Desi Arnaz Jr.!!!

(!!!)

He returned it to Marsha, and gave her a little peck on the cheek, after saying some flattering things.

(Well, she did about him first.  He was the best thing since Captain Kangaroo in her life.)

She didn’t wash her cheek for a week (or more, I am not sure).

So mom, you see what my life could have been like?  Who did I write about in my diary?  DO you remember?  I know the New Kids were in there, but mostly, Patrick Swayze.  (Doodled hearts should be surrounding that.)  Only during the Johnny Castle phase, of course. 

Do you see how a little sister would have changed my life?!

SHE would have donated my diary to Goodwill, and Patrick Swayze would have found it..

I am sure of this mom.

I would have not washed my cheek for a week (or more I am not sure), had he pecked me there.

But oh well.  I guess life really didn’t turn out that badly.

I think I forgive you for the no little sister thing.

Love Minder

About faith.

I don’t think faith is a foreign subject around here.  I would like to think that I post about it often, because it is an area where I have strength.

(But now with saying/typing that out loud, there will be some huge test to that statement..)

Or maybe I post about it because I am strengthening it.

Either way, I had an experience that took place when I was a teenager, I was reminded of it this last summer.  I thought then, “I should record that experience.”

Have I?

No.

So I am now.

I was 15.  It was the August before I started my sophomore year in high school.  My parents would go camping just about every Thursday evening as soon as dad was off work.  Being employed by the government, he had the 4-10 work week, and it worked out fantastically.  He was also bishop of our ward at the time, and there was little time to actually get away. 

They almost always took my younger brother Kevin.  Sometimes I went along.  We have always enjoyed camping and hiking.

We would go to a campground on the other side of the mountains from us.  It was a pretty nice place, unless partiers showed up.  It was also an area where there was lots to go and see and do on foot.

(Okay, so there still is..)

We decided on this particular trip, that we would hike to Ben Lomond Peak.  It was just intended to be a day trip, hiking to the peak from the North Fork trailhead about 8 miles in each direction. 

Wish I had my own photos of Ben Lomond..  here’s a nice one though:

(Photo Credit)

Ben Lomond is the highest peak in the middle there.  Willard, the one to your left, is actually higher by 52 feet.  Snow is usually still on the north-facing side for the most part of the year.  It was when we were this particular summer.  We even had a snowball fight on the way down, even skied in our hiking boots.

(That was dangerous though.)

In preparation for our hike, we ate a good, hearty breakfast, packed up our day packs with lunch and snacks and lots of water.

We knew we couldn’t possibly pack enough water, so we had to count on a water source being along the way to refill our bottles and canteens.  My dad and brother brought along water-purifying pumps and iodine tablets (my favorite!) to clean whatever water we would find to use.  My dad also studied his topographical map to find whatever water sources were available.  We estimated that we would have enough to get to the skyline arm of the trail, and we would need to refill for the last bit up to the peak and again, for the hike down. 

He found Cutler’s Spring on that map right there along the skyline trail.  We said a family prayer  and we left confident that we would be okay.

The climb up was amazing!  The views were terrific and only continued to be increasingly more awesome as we continued to ascend.  We saw so much wildlife, and just enjoyed being together.  We’d stop for snacks of grapes and drink our water and continue on.  We got to that skyline trail, needing the water.  There was only a few swallows left among all of our canteens, and we needed more for the rest of the way up the peak, and the trip back to camp.  We set out to find Cutler’s Spring.

We searched for quite a while.  When dad started to get worried, we did too. 

We stopped what we were doing, gathered together as a family in that beautiful, most humbling place, nearly on top of the world, and my dad offered a prayer.

It was a simple prayer.  It was a prayer of thanksgiving..  for our safety, for our being able to spend this time together, for the beauty of all that surrounded us, for all of God’s creations.  Then he asked that we would be able to find water.  Simply stating that “we need it”.  We knew it was there, somewhere, and we needed help to find it.

*Just a little side note on my dad, when he speaks, we listen.  When he prays, we especially listen.  There was no doubting in me, ever, that Heavenly Father wasn’t listening to our prayer, and there was no doubt in my mind that we would find the water.*

As he ended the prayer, I remember opening my eyes, my head still bowed, seeing all of our feet there in a circle, and the first thought that came to my mind was: tracks.

We had already seen a variety of wildlife, so we knew there were creatures there.  Animals leave tracks, animals also need water. 

Kev and I started looking for tracks.

Soon we found some broken grass off the mail trail and started to follow it.  Soon it turned to dirt and there were deer tracks.  We followed them.  They were still, just in the dirt at first, then the dirt slowly turned wetter and wetter.  We were hot!  Then there was mud, and before we knew it, there was water, springing from that mountain.

The water we needed.

We filled our canteens, offered our prayer of gratitude, and continued on to that peak. 

Once at the top, it was beautiful.  You could turn in any direction and see views of the entire valley.  Ogden, Logan, Huntsville, even into Salt Lake.  It was gorgeous!

We ate our lunch, signed the book that hides in a metal pulpit of sorts at the peak, found small rocks for our souvenirs, and headed back down the mountain to camp.

For a long time, that is what I remembered the most, that incredible view!  It was quite an accomplishment to hike it all, to see it all.  It was a great experience.

We also ran into a moose butt.  Like literally RAN.  Kev and I were running down the trail, rounded a switch-back and there was this gigantic moose peeing in the middle of the trail!

I will never forget that!

But then a different memory was brought to mind as we sat around the campfire that one night this last summer.  We sat there as a family, in the shadow of that peak, my dad sharing stories, and just listening to him speak in this setting, I began to recall that great story of faith.

Water is such a basic, essential thing.  Something that sustains our very life.  We needed it.  But we needed to have faith to find it.

How many other things in life do we need to exercise our faith in order to find and to obtain?

From now on, along with all the other memories of that trip, I will remember what I learned that really matters.

Faith.

The door to “Neverland”.

My children are obsessed with Peter Pan these days.

Obsessed.

Not the cartoon version produced by that “crafty” (wicked/evil crafty, not cutesy ribbon and hot glue gun “crafty”)  “get your child addicted to our flicks so as to make them desire to watch them repeatedly on a daily basis”machine, otherwise known as Disney. 

Nope, my kids are hooked on the live action version produced by someone (or some bodies) equally as crafty, being that my children would probably not argue if I suggested they watch it repeatedly, all the live-long day.

And I wouldn’t because they would whole-heartedly accept.

So, some background for this story of mine..

Many homes here have crawl spaces.  My old house did, and I miss the heck out of my crawl space!  It was the perfect area for storing all of those seasonal decorations that I did not desire to see on a daily basis and did not want to take up valuable room with.  (It is also the perfect place for all the spiders on earth to live, especially during the winter months, and create dozens of webs just for sport.)  It was pimped-out too.  The moron who lived there before we did, framed in a good section of the floor, padded and carpeted it, put in a light switch, insulated the heat ducts and pipes that ran through there..  he did many other things moronically though.  Kind of canceled-out his “pimping-out” of the crawl space.

(Sorry about the vivid images of spider families that were planted in your head mom.)

This house, sadly, does not have a crawl space.  I do dream that one day, the guts of my garage floor will self-excavate themselves, and then allow me to have a bigger, much taller version of a crawlspace.  (I can dream about it.)

My parents’ home (the home where I grew up) has a crawl space.  When I was little, it contained the Christmas decorations, food storage items (like wheat, salt, and old two-liter pop bottles that had been washed and refilled with water), and other things my parents basically didn’t want to see. 

The summer after I graduated, mice decided to take-up residence there.  Many thanks go to the neighbors who moved in next door, kept their dogs, and their dog food outside, and helped in bringing these mice to our neck of the neighborhood.  (It has been suggested the dog food attracts mice.)

We removed all items of value from the space and left what was left of the wheat that the mice had gotten to, and the water, which we later learned, needed to be treated with bleach to make it usable in the future.  It was basically emptied and left to the mice and the spiders.

So now, the contents of my parents crawl space include the above items, mouse traps that probably have little mouse skeletons stuck in them, Decon, and lots and lots of spider webs.  And probably HUGE spiders.  (And moths that are breeding at record-setting levels.)

(Will that keep you up tonight mom?)

(I know, I had to throw moths into that mix, didn’t I?)

(Sorry.)

Oh, and some old glass milk jugs that I should go snatch…

When we were teenagers, we would wait patiently, for our turn to have the “storage room” as our bedroom.  That is where access to the crawl space is.

It (the idea of the crawl space) never really creeped me out.  The only thing I didn’t like about it was when you needed to go in it.  You had to step out a little ways into the darkness to pull on the little chain that would turn the light on.  It was a little unnerving.  I could imagine the giant spiders with their multiple eyes checking me out, waiting to pounce on me.

(Is this bothering you mom?)

On to the story!

Present day, the grandchildren find that mysterious door so exciting.  There have been stories circulating about that door, and who resides behind it, for years.

(Some of them are true..)

(I kid, I kid.)

(Kind of.)

So it’s no surprise when they want to go play down in the storage room.  With the lights out.  Yielding flashlights.

Adventurous kids we have in this family.  Eh?

The other day, while we were there for our “Grammie day”, there were just a couple of us and our kids still there, clean-up was in full swing, when mom alerted me that “my girls” took the door to the crawl space off and I “needed to put it back on”.

Pfftt.

I responded very wise__ like: “How do you know it was my girls and not these Mayes boys?  Huh?”

(Really, I love and respect my mom.  We just tease a little..  I only talked back to her one time.  ONE TIME.)

To which she came back with: “Because they told me they thought it was the door to “Neverland”.”

Yup.  That confirmed it.  It was “my girls”.

Do you think they are obsessed much?

I went downstairs to put the door back on, and I will tell you the truth…  the first thing I noticed was all of the spider webs and little spider cocoons attached to the backside of that door, hanging from the frame of the door...

(Shudder.)

And spiders don’t really bother me.

(But they bother my mom.)

:D

Then I noticed the old glass milk jugs, and at the time, my life really wasn’t more important than reaching in and snagging those.

I am now thinking that it wasn’t “that bad”.

Or maybe I am just saying that for my mom.

(I love you mom!)

Day 27.

The day isn’t even done, not even near being over, and yet I am thankful.

The girls have spent the past few days playing together.  It isn’t always perfect and peaceful.  Someone usually gets their feelings hurt, and the pretend plots need to be de-dramatized sometimes.  Sometimes the players need to be reminded that it is just pretend, that we can each have ideas, and take turns playing out our ideas.

As Ashley was crying because Lynn was bored with the Polly Pockets, and wanted to play something else, I told them of what it was like for me growing up…

I had no sisters.  The only people I could play dolls with continually were my friends in the neighborhood.  I didn’t always want to play dolls.  I didn’t always want to play with my friends either.  I was a homebody (still am!) and would much rather play with my brothers, in my own home 95% of the time.

We would spend our time playing G.I. Joes, Star Wars, Micro-Machines, Hot Wheels, Legos, Constructs, or building forts.  Bottom line, we had a blast together.  I loved playing with my brothers.  They were always there, and we always had a fun time.  There were times that I wanted to play Barbies, they knew it.  I remember them building giant “men” using their Constructs, so my Barbie could have some guy friends (besides the Ken doll who had hair issues).  There was one time that Ken, my oldest brother, not the doll, spent a while making a man out of a wire hanger, toilet paper, and duct tape.  We played late into the night with my Barbie and his “man”.  They were so good to me!

They still are..

My brothers are always there when we need help.  Their hands were many of the helping hands when we moved.  They have helped in home-improvement projects, have shoveled my driveway when we were on vacations, and even when I was pregnant or had a newborn.  They have been there for me during the hard times.  They have been a shoulder to cry on.  When others treat me unfairly, they are on my side.  They always support me.  They were on the couch, right next to my dad, “cleaning” guns when a new date came to pick me up.  They are what family a means to me.  We love each other unconditionally.  We have all made bad choices, but we have always been there to support and love one another through them.   They didn’t say a word to me about my “almost marriage”, they just wanted me to be happy.  They were planning on supporting me through it, if that was the choice I made.  I later found out that not one of them really liked him.  “He was alright..  but not good enough for you.”

We always joke about how protective they are.  Joe is referred to as “Sonny” from the “Godfather”.  (That leaves either Ken or Kev to be the “Fredo” and I am not going to do that…)  He can be a little hot-headed..  but so can Ken.  He once chased down a punk kid because he knocked over my snowman.  I was 17 at the time.  Ken was 22.  And then there were the snowboarding trips that Kev and I took.  He always tried to blame me for getting him into near squabbles, but he just got upset to hear other guys on the mountain call me not very nice names when I would ask them to move away from in front of the jumps we wanted to take.  Can you see the hot-headedness?  Geez, but I love ‘em!

I recently got a massive bruise on my forearm after a co-ed volleyball tournament.  It was pretty bad.  I wore long sleeves for the first few days, didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.  Then I started to laugh to myself.  If anyone knew my family, they would know if Merrill had laid his hands on me..

Have you seen that scene in “The Godfather”?  Sonny goes off on Connie’s husband for hurting her.

Um, that is kinda how my family is. 

When I told Merrill that thought, he laughed at me and said, “You think really highly of yourself..  you think your family loves YOU more than they love ME?”

Because that is how they are.

My brothers might not have all things in common with my sweet (but very confused) husband, but they love him anyway.

I feel a little sad for my girls, that they don’t have brothers like I do.  I am thankful that they have each other though.  This time of childhood, the innocence and the play, is so fleeting.

Someday, they will be reminiscing about all of their fun times playing and pretending together..  I wonder if they are remembering this, as they play Polly Pockets with the Christmas village and Nativity…  amoxicillin snow anyone?

I might just have to buy some G.I. Joes and Legos for Christmas, just so they can have the experience.

I am thankful for the brothers I have been blessed with, and the sisters I now enjoy in my life because they have married them. 

I love you Ken, Joe-Bo, and Kev!

A goodbye.

We said our goodbyes as we walked around Merrill’s Junior High  one last time before they tear it down.

I have heard many stories from his days here, but more came tumbling out this day, and even though there was the women's broadcast, I didn’t want to leave…

We laughed as he tried to remember about where his old lockers were…  some were missing.  I think they can be found in my neighbor’s garage. ;)

We laughed even more as he showed us where all the “hot girls” lockered.  He told us about how if he timed his walk to certain classes just right, his path would cross with some of theirs.

He told us a story about a book that got placed here, but somehow went missing and never got back on the shelf, and he got to pay for it.

He stopped us in this hallway, right outside of his English class to tell us of how he narrowly escaped being “anchored” on his last day of ninth grade, and how his older friend helped track down the guys who chased him and then. well, we’ll just say that they “scared” them. ;)

Visited the old choir room..

We found some souvenirs.

Clint and Britney came and joined us.  We got to hear the story of when they met in seventh grade, even snapped a picture of them in that room.

It made me homesick.  Homesick for those times of life.  Homesick because I wished that I were able to be one of those girls who got to cross his path and flirt with him.  Homesick for just a slow dance at a stomp there with him..

It was a fun time, he said it had made his week.

In all the things we saw, rooms we stopped in, I think the most special was the room where his Grandpa had taught next to Mr. Goody’s room. 

It was fun hearing his stories, seeing the smile on his face as he reminisced, and giving all of this to our girls.

Glad to see that some things are still the same.

Saturday, we went to have dinner with Grandpa W.

(We meaning me, the girls, and a couple dozen cupcakes..)

We got to sit and visit, eat good food (because we don’t make BAD food..), and the kids played with their cousins.  We all adored Abby.

(I also took a lot of pictures, but when DON’T I do that..)

Ashley and James loved jumping from Grandpa’s porch trying to clear the little bushes every time, just like I did with my cousins when I was little.

And Grammy busted out suckers for all the grandkids in honor of Peyton and her progress in potty-training.

It was a good day.

“Music is the soundtrack to our lives.”

Dick Clark has it right..

I have been in a mood since we moved, after we went through our MANY CDs, packing up all of our stuff.  There were CDs and even tapes (yikes!) that I had completely forgotten about.  Most of this music was from certain points in my life and brings memories and feelings rushing back.

Isn’t it amazing how music can evoke so much emotion?

As we packed, we reminisced, we also divided things into different piles: trash, sell (some that I opted to keep that Merrill was all too quick to toss into the sell pile), keep, and what were Merrill’s favorites that would be on display in his room.  We still have not gotten around to un-packing ALL of it, Merrill’s stuff is up..

Our music is distinct to different times in our lives.  Some reminds us of childhood, vacations, junior high, high school, hard times, good times, being new in love, getting ready for our wedding day, newlyweds, and each of the girls as a baby and small children.  Merrill is a pro at attaching memories to music for me.  There are a few albums that, when I hear them, remind me immediately of specific events, because that was what he orchestrated for me to hear, to define it that way for me.

What good music.

What good memories!

My  re-discovered treasures are still down there, somewhere.

A friend sent me to a new music site, where I have been listening to some of this music that I am too busy (or is it lazy?) to go and dig for.

Wow.

The memories that come flying at me..

Right now, I am entirely into Stone Temple Pilots.  Loving it, feeling like I am back in high school.  “Tiny Music” reminds me all too much of the time I spent with my older brother, Ken, after his mission.

Those are good memories.

I am thankful for the many more memories to come as I re-discover my music.

A flashback.

Yesterday, events in our community transpired that forced my mind to flashback, to remember an event that happened when I was 15.
Yesterday, a 14 year old boy was hit and killed by a trax train.  As his family and his community mourns his unexpected death, I can empathize with them.
It was the end of my ninth grade year, the day we cleaned out our lockers, were readying ourselves for all of the end-of-the-year activities, heading home, excited for the annual sports banquet to be held that night. 
One younger girl in my neighborhood, and ward family, was among the group, carrying a black garbage bag much bigger than herself, home.  I was far ahead of her in my walk, but other friends of mine were right with her when she stopped, and set down the bag to tie her shoe.  They went ahead.
They cleared the set of double train tracks before the train came, she was left waiting on the other side for it to pass.  As the last car of the first train passed, she stepped out onto the tracks and began walking, only to be hit by a second train, coming from the opposite direction.
That fast she was gone.
That fast all of our lives were changed.
That fast we were closer, meant more to each other than ever before.
My dad was bishop of our ward at that time, and it was a hard funeral to direct.  A difficult time for us all.
She was like the “little sister” to us older girls.  She wanted to be with us wherever we were, participate in the same activities, she even took up acting like us.  She was the only girl who could beat me in a burping contest!
I regret often treating her like a little sister.  I admit, I wasn’t always patient with her, I didn’t show her enough love.  But I was blessed to know her.  I am blessed to remember her example.
One of the neatest things her family chose to display at her funeral was a picture she drew just weeks before in her art class.
They were assigned to draw a landscape.  You can imagine a typical landscape: mountains, tall pine trees, a few rocks, a river.
She drew hers as a view from above.
While we all live with regrets of that day, someone to stay back with her as she tied her shoe, someone to be there to tell her to wait until the crossing arms were up, someone to help her carry her gigantic bag, someone…
I live with the regret of not always being my kindest to her.  Not always being the patient team captain when it came to her choice of how long to stretch at track practice.  Not making the time I had with her really count.
While her passing was difficult, it also drew us together.  We treated each other differently.  We cared for each other in a way that made the leaders of other wards stop and marvel.
They knew that we were “that ward”.
It was sad that it took this happening for us to unify, but we were thankful to have each other, to treat each other with a little more kindness, with increased patience and understanding.
There was a blessing in her passing.
It is a hard memory to bring up, but I am thankful that it is there.  It is a blessing to have a reminder of how fragile life is, how to live without regret.  How to love others because we never know what will happen.

The “Not Me” ghost..

It seems that a childhood house guest of my family, has taken up residence in my home with my little family.

He/she is fondly known as the “Not Me Ghost”.

He/she makes frequent appearances, but isn’t seen by anyone when he/she shows up.

We only see the aftermath.

When things are askew, something broken, a mess made, my favorite treat polished off, garbage on the floor, or other unpleasant happenings occur,  and the question is asked, “Who did this?”  it is answered by a chorus of “Not me!”  (I am positive that this will be Peyton’s next learned phrase.)

And there you have it, the “Not Me Ghost” has paid us a visit.

I have noticed his/her visits are happening more frequently, and so have our little talks about honesty, and making good choices.

I wish I could remember how long it took until the “Not Me Ghost” stopped visiting my house growing up..  I wonder if he/she visits there now, of course only to visit our offspring, my parents grandchildren..  maybe relive a few fond memories?

Maybe the more frequent visits will make it necessary to finish one of those basement bedrooms just for his/her comfort.

I would hate to not be hospitable.

2009...

2009..  it was a fun year!
January- I celebrated the last birthday for my twenties..  I am looking forward to 30!  This month our house was also blessed with a Dyson..  the gift that keeps on giving. :)  Snow was also awesome this month bringing Merrill up the hill in the backhoe more than once.
February- Our baby turned one.  A new little red-headed boy named Tyler was born to Austin and Brooke. We also started practically living at the hotel..  the end was nearing!  My decision in re-decorating the craft room amid the chaos is something I question to this day.
March-  If we thought life was busy in February, we were quickly corrected in March..  the hotel was our life.  We learned who our best friends were when help and endless offers of help poured in.  We spent more than a few late nights down there and learned how to make beds in record time!  We were happy to finally open mid-month.
April-  This month brought us our 9th wedding anniversary and a new computer.  With the new computer came PhotoShop and my life was digitized.  My love for digital scrapbooking just began..  We also planted our first real garden and looked forward to enjoying lots of home-grown goodies.  Ashley graduated from her first year of pre-school and was sad it was over.  She couldn't wait to get back at it!  Lynn was really reading..  writing and illustrating her own books.
May-  We ended a hard year of kindergarten with Lynn graduating, looked ahead to summer, relaxing, and a new year in first grade with a new teacher.  We also spent our Wednesdays at the fair grounds, softball was in season!
June-  We just began our summer and what a way to start it off..  we went to the Ogden temple for a primary activity then followed it up the next week with a family trip to the Oquirrh Mountain Temple open house.  Such neat experiences to share with our girls!  When it wasn't raining, we spent our days in the sun, near the pool.  If it was raining, we were playing inside, or enjoying a dip at the hotel.  We also went to the Air Show and watched the Thunderbirds.  The girls cheered in the South Ogden Days parade.
July-  A month of celebrating, parades, and fireworks began..  we went to Lagoon and spent a fun-filled day there.  I also captured some of my favorite pictures of our little family there.  I got to learn some really cool tricks while taking digital classes online.  At the end of the month, we started to enjoy some goodness from our garden.
August-  Life picked-up and we started sprinting in August.  Clint and Britney were married the beginning of the month at the Salt Lake Temple.  We enjoyed our day there.  We had some home improvement projects online.  We were working all summer on the outside, and it kept on going!  Back to school was beginning in the PTA realm of things too.  Talk of moving began, and the work on the house got kicked into high gear.  Peyton broke her arm...  School started.  Merrill turned the big 3-OH NO! ;)  Mindy got a new camera and turned into a one woman paparazzi.  This only helped the digital addiction.
September-  Merrill enjoyed a cruise while Mindy (& company) prepared the house for how many appraisals?!  Oh, and walk-troughs...  we moved at the end of the month, so happy to finally be out of boxes!!  Again..  we are so blessed to have the friends and family we do...
October-  Ashley turned 5!!  We settled into the house and really began to enjoy our space to stretch...  Kevin and Randee welcomed their long awaited little girl Chace.  Merrill ran off to Arizona for work and I stayed at home, painting over the horrid blue in what was to be my craft room.  Halloween brought out some fun with an increase in the number of trick-or-treaters at our new address.
November-  The holidays officially began in our new home and I wanted it to be special.  I had the bulk of Christmas gifts taken care of early so we could enjoy...  until I got sick, and threw us off track for a little bit.  Lynnie turned 7!  We had two Thanksgivings..  one with mom and dad while Merrill worked and one at home the following day.  We put up the tree, after cutting off a few inches and leaving off two rows of branches. :(
December-  We packed it in this month!  We picked up old traditions and started a few new ones.  We enjoyed the month, but wish it would have gone by a little slower.  We were especially thankful to have our children really grasp the true meaning of Christmas.

Memories...

Sorry if Barbara Streisand is stuck in your head now..
After getting some cute pictures for the Christmas card, I sat down to a fun editing/design session.  I got the card all figured out, and enjoyed the luxury of uploading the files to Costco.
I am a Costco card carrier now. :)
Costco and Sam's..  I feel so spoiled!
While uploading the card file, I figured why not upload some individual shots and update the wall in the living room..  it hasn't been that long ago, but Lagoon in July are the photos currently up.  That seems like a lifetime ago.
It was kind of a hard choice when it came to Peyton, but I knew I wanted Ashley's to be the big one. 

As I was taking out the backs to put the new pictures in the frames, I went through the layers of pictures.
Wow.
Lagoon in July doesn't seem that long ago after that trip down memory lane..
What sweet memories!  I am so happy that I have them, but am homesick for them all at the same time...

Relaxation Techniques..

I will be the first to say that life is busy.
It is stressful.
It is exciting.
Most nights lately, I lay awake, long past the bedtime that my body really desires, all the children sleeping soundly, but my mind, still going.
This is partly due to the hormonal cycle that is ever so fun, and partly due to my mind wanting to plan and organize EVERYTHING ahead of time.
I have to shut my mind off.
Literally.
When I was younger, I would picture one color, and would try to not think of anything else, and that would usually be enough to knock me out.
No counting sheep here.
But the other night, if I tried that, that one color would lead to many, and where they could fit in at the new house..
I had to think of something totally separate from life now, something that would help me to relax and find sleep.
If I didn't have two or three rooms in boxes blocking the cabinet where I keep all of the scrapbooks, I would post pictures, but hey, I am tired.. ;)
I recently got in contact with my best friend from childhood (thank you facebook!!), and while I thought of her often before, re-living many fond memories, I am thinking of my childhood in my neighborhood, so much more than usual. The days where we would play all over the neighborhood, playing capture the flag, bulldog, and when the sun was setting, mom would yell out the back door for us to all come home.
What a simple life.. I loved it. I miss those days.
That was where I let my mind go the other night as I was trying to find something soothing, something to get me to stop my mind and go to sleep.
I started with my own back yard.. the garden, what we grew there. The combination to the shed where we kept our bikes. How I would play G.I. Joes with my brothers outside at the far end of the garden where nothing grew after the pumpkins took over. I remembered how we built huts out of dried grass and mud, then a flood came and wiped-out their village. There would be an intensive rescue effort, and once all the action figures were located, we would do it all over again.
I remembered my best friend, Melissa's house.. the giant patch of daisies at the front of her house, near the hose where we would drink from in the summer time. The gate to her adventure-filled back yard. Remembering all the trees that grew there, and bore fruit that we would eat right from the trees. The tree house where we played for countless hours. Sliding on her "Crocodile Mile" (much like a slip and slide, but way better to us!). Balancing on the railroad ties that held the strawberry patch and flower beds. We would play fox and geese in the winter in our snow-covered yards, and build snow forts to have huge snowball fights with our brothers.
Sitting in her cozy basement, smelling the wood-burning stove, eating saltines while watching M*A*S*H or Jeopardy with her dad.
Playing our made up game of "Business".
There was nothing in the world like finding a comfy pillow to sit on in their solarium and read books there.
But then again, there was nothing like her mother's homemade bread, warm out of the oven with butter melting on it..
That is the bread recipe I use to this day..
We spent birthdays together, hers always at Tony's pizza, just her parents, she and I.. mine, we were always at my house, having a slumber party, eating junk food. Eating lots of cake. Laughing until carbonated beverages came out our noses.
Christmas always brought peanuts, in the shell to her house, and we enjoyed playing with our new toys together.
We also used to have marathon Monopoly and LIFE games. They would go on for hours, and one summer I think it was days!! Our favorite treats during those games were lemon-lime Shasta and the family style bag of licorice, always saving the black for the last.
Once Junior High hit, there was the inevitable separation. She was far more talented than I was, she knew exactly where she was going in life. She played what seemed like a gazillion instruments, to my 3 years of piano.. was incredibly talented and intelligent, and went on to drum major in high school, sterling scholar.
I just went with it.
But there were still the Christmas gifts, and birthday gifts, run from door to door every year.
So many fond memories.
I fell asleep somewhere around picking green beans in her garden while avoiding the daddy long legs and picking dandelions to earn a penny for each from her mom..
I slept well that night.

Flashbacking..

Did I just invent a new word?
Before I even begin, let me admit that I am a little sad going through this whole process.. packing and cleaning things out.. spending these last few days in my home.. the home where we started, where we brought our babies home.. where they learned to crawl, walk, and talk.. so many memories..
This move will be a good thing though, a little stressful, but good.
So here's the end of my boo-hooing, and the beginning of the fun!!
We started packing last night. We only have a week, so seriously.. we need to light a fire under it and get going.
It's just hard to decide what we can go a week without.. not like we use EVERYTHING in this house, but, you know.. what if I MIGHT want to bake a 16x16 inch layer cake AND decorate it? What if for SOME REASON, we will want to eat on the fine china?
See, decisions..
So last night, we started with the closet in the basement. That is the easiest place to begin because it's contents are CDs, DVDs, and the games I pray every day, that the girls won't make a mess of.
And here's your warning: with a man whose hobby IS MUSIC, we have more CDS than the average couple..
Inside the closet:


Outside of the closet:


It was my goal to purge the same time as packing, and not take garbage to the new house..
See all that garbage?


I try to not be a pack rat..
We did come across a treasure..


This one is a keeper!!
So it continues..
The girls play in the boxes, and we laugh, and remember..
When we moved in this house nearly 9 years ago, it was just the two of us. The basement was empty,well, besides the washer and dryer.. a few bins of decorations.
The only reason we even had to be in the basement was to do laundry, get out some decorations, or go spider hunting.
Now here we are.. doing most of our living down here, busting at the seams.
It will be good..
I just need to get over thinking about moving all this stuff!!

Something broke..

As I was driving away from dropping the girls off at the parade start point (more to come on that..), I drove behind, then past the hospital.
Something fell.
Then I could swear I heard a shatter.
It was my heart.
I knew I would have times when this particular phase of family planning, would feel more like a punch to the stomach, I just thought that the worst (for this week anyway) had passed for now.
But, no.
The hospital where I had doctor's appointments, ultrasounds, and eventually gave birth, stared me down, looked me right in the eyes, and brought with it all of those memories.
My mind, and eyes that are directly linked, were a flood of emotion.
So many thoughts and feelings hit all at once...
Every detail of being pregnant..
Labor.
Delivery.
Feeling the baby latch-on.. the toe-curling.
Memories that I want to re-create, over and over and over again.
I would have as many children as I possibly could, physically and mentally ;).
I would be pregnant forever!
Yearning..
As I think about all of this, I realize how blessed I am to have these experiences, to have the memories. Some don't even get that in this life.
Ah.. the millennium..
Anyone want to join my new club?
"Mommies that don't want to quit" or how about the: "I just took down the crib and am brimming with emotion: support group?
Really..
This too shall pass.

A remeberance..

Okay, more than one.. that's how I roll. ;)
Ashley had a remembrance when I told her to go and get her pajamas on.
"Mom! I remember that I used to have TWO nightgowns!! (As opposed to the one Hannah Montana nightgown she now owns..) One was purple with princesses and the other was blue with princesses.. I miss them! They were so beautiful and gorgeous.. I wish that when I growed, my beautiful and favorite clothes would grow too so I could always wear them!"
Oh, I would love it if they would shrink accordingly as well.. :)
Another remembrance, came to me as I watched a dear friend's daughter enter the waters of baptism this evening..
A flood of memories.. myself in white, hair braided, my dad standing on my toes to keep them from popping up.
What a wonderful memory!
I am so thankful..

It's Official..

Or little Kitty is really 16!
I can hardly believe it.. I remember her being in diapers, taking her to kindergarten, calming her down during lightning storms, and drawing Pooh Bear on her cast.. and who could forget the cruise with it's crap-tastic chocoholic buffet?! ;)
And now she's growing up..
Happy Birthday Kitty, Spanky, Kells, Kell-Bell!!!!Love ya!