Catch-Up! Pics, Pics N' More Pics

This is long overdue--

and may be somewhat of a yawner

if you're not family,

but I'm finally able to upload some pics

of the yahoos...

From Mother's Day in Golden:

 Dean's running for the GOP nomination too.

 We all went up to hear Dani speak in her sacrament meeting...

her family couldn't be there 

because the babies had been sick,

so Mr Idaho stayed home from church to take care of the boys.

 Dean brought me potted mums.

 This is a typical Sunday scene

at the house...

the kids laying all over each other

looking at videos on Nana's phone...

*

 Missionaries popped over one day--

Elder Schumacher from Meenasoda...

 The back of Elder Weagle from Bawston, Mass.

as he played some piano for me...

*

 The first of many takes

for Diana's mission papers...

 As much as she wanted to send in the goofy ones ("that's the real me, Mom!),

we sent in one similar to the top....out of like 35 takes.

***

 The Caboose was in her school's Spring Musical..."The Jungle Book"

 She was part of  "The Jungle".

 Her buddy, C. These two have known each other since they were in diapers in our ward.

 One of her BFF's, L. who played Baghera the panther.

 Giggle-Box, Katie and Anna aka "Sherkhan".

***

 And here's some scenes from a little 50th Bday Party for my dear friend, Nannette.

As part of our gift to her,

I asked each friend to write out

what they love 

about our dear friend, Nannette.

We read them outloud and had a good laugh and shed a few tears.

Good friends make the world go 'round.

 Nana visiting with my staging partner, Kelly.

***

Fifth Grade Graduation

 The Girls' Salon...helping Ari get ready...

Nana on nails,

Daisie on hair.

One of the benefits of having older sisters.

 Both Joseph and Ari had the same 5th grade teacher, Mr. Hinkle. 

As you can tell, 

he was a favorite.

 And there's ol' Cole again...lol

 And the BFF, L.

 And my last,

 my very last

 fifth grader.  

 As you can see, she was very moved by the whole experience...

She gets it honest, yes she does.

*

Then the girls talked me into going to the park

and taking some random pics of them--

these are just a few of the over 100 pics I took.

You're welcome for not posting

all of them.

Also, it was a crazy windy day,

thus the hair was flying in every which way:  

 My thanks to America's Top Models...

And I think that about does it for today.

Out-takes:

BbbbDeeeBbbDee
That's All F-Folks!

Quiet 4th of July

Here in the Rockies,
we have had a couple of wild weeks
whatwith the Waldo Canyon fire,
the High Park fire,
and about a dozen other fires
all over the State
that we love so much.

The idea of "creating" more fire
for the sake of
entertainment and celebration
of our great land
was, as best as I can say,
offensive to us.

A Statewide fire ban
was appreciated.

Fire lighting up the skies?
No thank you.

We've seen that display already
as the torrential fire ripped down the face
of our mountains
in full blown technicolor.
Fireworks are nearly blase
comparatively.

Our hearts didn't need to be
artificially racing at the sight of
sparklers and firecrackers--
what our hearts needed was
a day of quiet.

There was a charity concert
benefitting those affected by the wildfires
and those awesome, wonderful, amazing
firefighters...
it sold out in minutes I think,
we did not attend.

But it was more than Okay.

As I watch the wildfires in Utah and Montana,
I look with different eyes
and appreciate the chaos that comes with
wildfires that ravage our beautiful America.

Silent prayers are offered up for those
who have lost their homes
and plead for hope to be restored
in their hearts.

What did we do?
We spent time as a family,
a movie and dinner out,
played some games at home,
and rested our minds.

It was a Quiet 4th of July
in Colorado Springs.

It was one we won't forget.
The one after the fires.

Raising Wolves In Kids' Clothing

Ya know,
my whole life long
I've wanted only one thing--
to be a Mom.
No kiddin'.

Which, as it turns out, is great
because I have seven yahoos
that call me "Momza".

My efforts to teach them
everything I know
are often rewarded
especially when they rise to an occassion
or exhibit some malleable amount of civility
that would categorize them as
human beings
and less like
wolves.

Now, I am not an authority on wolves.
What I know about the animals
has come through commercial-interrupted,
TV documentaries
and my favorite movie starring
hunka hunka burnin' love
Kevin Costner while he
danced with them.

That's not much actual knowledge,
but from what I can tell,
wolves travel in packs,
bait innocent other creatures,
and circle about said creature
until the Alpha declares
"Dinner time! Let the wild rumpus begin!"

I am hear to confess today
that I have, in fact,
been raising wolves in children's clothing.

I suspected as much,
and have been in complete denial
it would appear.

Until.
I just couldn't ignore it anymore
as it was discovered last evening
at 5:01pm, exactly.
Or thereabouts.

You see,
I had accompanied Mr. W on a trip to the Orthopedist
to make sure the doc got the full scoop
on what's really been an aggravating pain in Mr. W's knee.
I don't know what it is with men and doctors
but it should be a law that wives must accompany their husbands to
the doctor/dentist/car repair guy
so as the problems are thoroughly discussed and
equally thoroughly resolved
for the twenty-dollar co-pay.

So I went and listened to the Ortho doc describe in gory details
all the reasons NOT to have a knee-replacement surgery yet.

That's when the wolves began shedding their Aeropostale t-shirts
at home.
A phone call from Daisie,
whilst I was listening to the "blood clots can kill" line,
"Mom?! These kids are outta control! They're fighting and yelling.
Ari even threatened me with a butter knife
just because I quit playing 'Barbies' with her!"

....I bit my lip and answered,
"I'm sorry that's going on. I will talk to them when we get home."

I hung up and shook my head.
Ugh.
N' continued to listen to the Doctor of Warning Labels and Side-Effects.

Finally,
with a new plan of action
that does not include the digging out of knee bone
and replacing it with metal and plastic--
we headed home.

Because it was dinner time,
I made an executive decision to take the wolves
out for dinner.
Dialed the house,
told them to be ready as we would arrive in the driveway
within a few minutes.

We pulled up.
The Alpha male wolf came running out of the house,
shutting the door behind him quickly.
Then the sly 11 year old She-Wolf followed--
she had a wicked smile on her face
as she climbed into the car,
dead silent.

A minute or two passed--
"Where's Daisie?" I asked.
Just then,
the front door opened
with a very frazzled "victim"
bursting out of it,
holding her shoes in one hand
and her pocketbook handbag in the other.
(My yahoos make fun of me for using the old-fashioned word.)

Exasperation would be an understatement.
She was about to spontaneously combust!

"MOM--!" She exclaimed with gritting teeth and eyes wide--
"These two have, uh. YOU have GOT to do something about them!"

Using my best calm voice,
"Slow down--what's wrong?" I said, bracing for impact.
"I have been in the bathroom for over ten minutes begging Joe to bring me
toilet paper--there wasn't any in there--and he wouldn't!"
The Alpha Male interrupts:"I didn't know where any was."
"That's a lie! I told him exactly where to look!" she interjected.
"I couldn't find any." says the Alpha.
"Nah. He just stood there in front of the TV, Mom. He didn't look.," offered She-Wolf.
"Well, I did get it for her anyway." rebuts the Alpha Male. with eyes rolling.
"And SHE (pointing to She-Wolf) hid my purse in the dog food bin!", said Daisie
She-Wolf's chest puffed up,
"That's because she stopped playing with me!"
"I played stupid Barbie's with her for an hour and a half! Freak! I'm 17 years old!
I don't have to play Barbies!" replied Daisie.

The steam started to lift--
so I stepped into the wolfpack and said,
"This. Car. Is. Not. Moving. Until. Apologies. Are. Offered. Period."
Lame "I'm sorrys" were spoken accompanied by shrugged shoulders and rolling eyes.
"I am serious. What's wrong with you two? Were you raised by wolves? Who does that stuff and thinks it is in ANY WAY okay to do that to their sister?"

And that's when I knew.
I am raising wolves in children's clothing.
Let the wild rumpus begin.

Excuse Me, Nora Ephron--Can I Have Your Attention?

Dear Ms. Ephron,
I just read your book, "I Feel Bad About My Neck"
and I just wanted you to know that before I read this,
I never even noticed my neck,
that's right--
I took my neck for granted!--
but now that I've read it,
it's all I can do to NOT 
look at my neck.






Dear Ms. Nora Ephron,
I just love your book,
"I Feel Bad About My Neck".
As a woman who is closer to fifty
than forty,
I'm right there with ya sister,.


Hello, Ms. Ephron, can I call you Nora?
Are you currently needing a new friend?
How about a Momza to seven yahoos 
who lives in the beautiful Rocky Mountains of Colorado?
Yes OR No
Circle One.


Hey Girlfriend!
Are you busy this next week?
Let's do lunch!
Do you like Olive Garden's bread sticks?




Hello There!
My name is Momza,Dawn,
and I'm a huge fan!
Can we do lunch sometime--
in New York
at your favorite restaurant
and will you gab my ears off?
You seem like a really naturally fascinating woman
and while I am not all-that-and-a-bag-of-chips,
I think we'd get along really swell.
Whaddya say??

I clean up pretty good,
and I do have some wildly, mildly
interesting stories that I'd love to share over
lunch....
my yahoos,
my folks,
my Zumba classes--say, do you Zumba?
It is so stinkin' fun!
I think I could hold my own in the gab department too,
but hey,
this isn't about ME,
it's all about you, you, you.
I've heard New York is beautiful in the Fall.
Eagerly awaiting your call,
Sincerely,
Your Number One Fan in Colorado!

Hmmmm.......too much?

*In remembrance of Ms. Ephorn, this is a re-post from 2011. Looks like I'll have to wait to get to meet her someday.

Waldo Canyon Fire In Real Time

The Waldo Canyon fire is travelling north of the Air Force Academy--
it's literally across the street (I-25) from our neighborhood.
We can see the Chapel from our house
and the beautiful mountain range behind it.
We didn't think the fire would reach the AFA.
Certainly didn't think (and still hoping it doesn't) reach Monument.

However,
Monument and Palmer Lake are under "pre-evacuation" notice.

When that notice was given yesterday,
Mr. Wonderful came home from work early
and together,
our family packed up treasures and necessities
just in case that fire crossed came to our side.

Ari packed and re-packed her Build-A-Bears.
Joseph fretted about not being able to take his humongous
trebuchet he just built in Summer Camp,
as well as his army tank collection.
Dara--well, she's 17, so everything she owns is "priceless",
so we just told her how much space she could have and
left it to her to decide how to fill it.

I walked around the house looking for
"what means the most" to me--
surprisingly,
not alot.
Photo albums, for sure.
A couple of journals.
Our family portraits.
Some jewelry.
What would not be packed to go with us
are just two things--
sentimental Christmas ornaments
and my favorite red dishes.

This fire and smoke has given me an opportunity
to see things
clearly.
I don't need all the things I think I do
to be happy.
Oh yeah, stuff makes life easier,
for sure.
But when it comes down to it,
I can survive with alot less.

We went to bed watching the mountain range,
which earlier in the day
was billowing with smoke,
but at nightfall looked calm
after hours of C-130s flying over and dropping
slurry and water.
It was a comforting feeling to go to bed
without seeing orange flames on the mountainside.

So many people are praying for our part of the world!
So many family and friends have extended their faith and love
for our people and land...
you just have to know that those of us who live here,
love
love
love
our city and our mountains.
We are a faith-filled community--
we are a patriotic people--
so many of our citizens have fought on foreign soil
to protect our country.
So to see our beautiful mountains on fire
grieves our souls.
Our community food banks and shelters are "overwhelmed"
with donations and offers of service.

Prayers have been heard and answered.
Where Colorado Springs has had record-setting high temps
this past week,
it is finally cooling down and clear skies today.
Our leaders who are fighting this fire
are encouraging and hopeful
that their efforts will not be hampered today
by extreme weather.

That's all great news for us
as you can imagine.

Yesterday looked bleak.
We calmly directed the family
to be prepared,
to be ready,
to be faithful.

Kent nor I ever got emotional
in the process.
That was important for our children,
we believe,
to assure them of their safety.
We still made meals,
still did chores,
still worked and played.
We had the kids water down the fence and the wood chips in the back yard.
We had them turn the sprinklers on twice.
Letting them participate was/is important.

The fires are still burning,
over 18,500 acres, with 5% containment.
Pre-evacs, Mandatory evacs are still in place.
But there have been no new ones.
It's going to be a long battle to contain the whole thing
but I have hope that soon enough
this whole tragedy will be over,
and our community can get busy helping our neighbors
who've lost everything
put their lives back together.

Thank you for your prayers.
Please continue to offer them for us.

The Waldo Canyon Fire in my Beautiful Colorado Springs

My Beautiful Colorado Springs is on fire tonight.
We can see the blaze from our house,
altho it is about three miles away from us,
just on the west side of the highway.

The Waldo Canyon fire started on Saturday afternoon.
We thought it'd stay in the forrested canyon.
We even had been given a projected containment date--
July 16th.
Then, it all changed a little after 4pm today,
when the winds changed
and started a fury that sent the fire up and over the ridge
and into our neighborhoods.
The sky was completely black and red...
unreal.
I have never seen anything like it before.

Landmarks and homes are now embers.
The Air Force Academy is being evacuated as I type this--
and we have been cautioned to get our 72 hour kits together
just in case.

We've been on our knees
and on our toes tonight.

Arianna has been crying in fear of what might be,
so she is sleeping at the foot of our bed.

I've been waiting for the phone call to ask us to house some evacuees
all day long,
never thinking that we might be leaving our own home.

If you're inclined to pray,
we could sure use some rain.

A Mission Call!

Can you tell how happy this new
"Sister Johnson" is?

Her face says it all--
it's exactly where she wanted to go.
A really really good day!

A Mother's Absence

It doesn't happen often.

Only on special days--
days when I gave birth to my children,
blessings,
baptisms,
marriages,
days when sickness fills my home
and I'm unusually tired.
Days like today...
one of my daughters is receiving
her mission call.

I woke up early this morning,
with thoughts of her.
My mother.

I rolled over in bed,
trying to push away these feelings
of needing, wanting, wishing
for a mother.

I feel around with my feet
the warmth of the covers--
hoping to comfort myself
so the pangs of her absence
recede as subtly as they arrived this morning--
this very special day for me
and my family.

Comfort doesn't come,
I leave the warmth of covers
and look out the window to the West--
the sun rising, bouncing off my beautiful, strong, Pikes Peak.
Again, I try to comfort myself--
I am in my fiftieth year.
I don't need to be "mothered",
I have dear friends who care for me,
who have filled in for that spot of mother
many times over the years,
and will gladly fill in that spot today
when we find out where my daughter is
going to serve her eighteen-month mission.
Women who will be excited for me and mine.
It's enough.

It has to be.

Alcoholism and mental illness stole my mother from me
a long long time ago.
She lives in a world that doesn't include me.
Addictions are so selfish they don't allow for
family relationships.
I know this.
I know this.

Logically,
I know this.
And yet, since I was just a very little girl,
I have longed for a mother.

I was taught not to need one--
her absence and addictions were very good teachers.

And I have gotten through this life
having learned my lessons quite well.
But every so often,
when
babies were born,
or
when I saw my daughter standing in front of a full-length mirror
in a white silk wedding gown,
or the day she became a mother,
I wanted to celebrate with my own mother
"Isn't she beautiful, Mom?" I want to say outloud.

The day I found out my son has cerebral palsy,
I sat alone.
Weeping in my car,
feeling out to the Universe for comfort.
There was no mother to lean into,
to lean upon
or soft shoulders to cry into.
That just wasn't my reality.

The night we welcomed my son home from his mission.
The day he asked me to go with him to pick out the engagement ring
for his sweetheart.
And the day he knelt across an altar and pledged his love
forever and always.

There's this part of me
that wants to show her what I've done
with my life,
somehow, some little hope
that she would be proud of the good I've done,
while she's been away.
 That whole, "Look Mom! Look what I've done!"--
seeking approval or acceptance or a place
in her world.

You can't get to be my age
and not have a few special days along the way
where having a mother would be super nice.

Addictions and mental illness are cruel teachers.

But today is a day of celebration!
I will shrug off these thoughts
and turn my attention to the events of the day.
We will not think about her absence.
I will not mention her name or
utter the ache in the corner of my heart
that speaks of her absence.
Like so many days before.
I got this.

No,
today my husband and children will gather together
and encircle our daughter and sister
as she opens a large white envelope
and reads outloud her mission call.
We'll laugh and cheer
and grab a map!
We'll have treats n' share hugs and tears
and this moment will be ours to breathe in
and burst open!
We'll pray together and bless this day.
It will be the stuff of memories
this day in my life.
And for my mother,
who lives in her own world,
it will be just another day.
A day where she won't even know
that her only daughter is celebrating
again,
another joy in life that only comes along
once in awhile.
And though her addictions close her off
from family,
noone else can take the place reserved
just for her.




If you or someone you love is struggling with addictions,
there is help.
Oh please reach out for it.
Here are some places to start a new life:


Addiction Recovery Program
Alcoholics Anonymous
Mental Health America

Weekend Wrap-Up

I finally finished the custom valance!
It looks pretty sweet.
Of course, I notice the imperfections
and stew over those,
(do you do that?)
thinking of ways to fix them
the next time I go over to L's house--
which will be when I finish making
a matching valance for a kitchen/diningroom window.

I learned so much from the experience.
Really.
It was great for my old brain to try something new.
I'd never made covered buttons before (easy peasy).
Never used lining before. ( a little tricky.)
Never used a mounting board instead of a curtain rod before.
Never made a tailored, buttoned-down, pleated valance before.
And I did all of that.

Pictures to come!

Dani and Mr. Idaho came down on Friday night
for a surprise visit.
Mr. Idaho has one more week of a field session
and then they're off to Houston, Texas for his new job.
I am going to miss their beautiful little family
more than I can say.
Already been pricing flights from Denver to Houston
for my future visits.
As soon as they arrived,
I shoo-ed Dani & her sweetheart out the door for a date,
so that we could hog the babies all we wanted for the evening.
Dani was so excited that she told Brad she was going
"with or without you!"
We may or may not have let Garrett sit on our bed
and watch TV with us until 9:54pm.
With a cookie in his little two-years-old hand.
mwah hah hah...

They all left mid-afternoon Saturday
once the mailman had come
and there wasn't a big, white envelope
in the mailbox.

Last night,
we had company for dinner--
Nana made a Salad Bar for us
and I put a chicken on the rotisserie.
Our company was a young gal who
was recently baptized.
Just a refreshing young woman
that has seen alot of things and done alot of things
in her young life
and is so entirely grateful for her blessings.
Because Nana and Mr W and I are ward missionaries,
we got to teach her the Plan of Salvation
from Preach My Gospel.
Nana led the discussion and we just chimed in
along the way.
I love hearing my children share their testimonies
of the Gospel.
They radiate happiness and light.

A great way to spend a Sunday evening.

And here it is, a new week waiting for tons of adventures!
And believe me,
there is a list!

What was the best thing about your weekend?

The One In Which I Apologized

Apparently,
I have made a major gaffe
on this here lil blog o' mine.
And when I say "major",
I mean,
depending on whom you talk to,
I made a mistake.
Perspective is everything.

I was let in on this faux pas
by none other than my
layin'-on-the-floor-singin'-Celine-Dion-outloud-
gettin'-ready-to-go-on-a-mission-girl,
who,
in-this-post-shall-be-unnam-ed.

I failed to realize/acknowledge/gloat-in-my-own-popularity
that more than 6 people
read this blog,
regularly.

I see the stats,
I do.
N' I know that more than a few hundred lost souls
come here via various search terms,
only to leave sad and disappointed
by the lack of relative association
and relevant information
they are in fact,
looking for...
So for that, I apologize dear people from
faraway lands across the planet
that I am neither relatable nor relevant
to what you're looking for.

I am basing my account of 6 readers,
n' I do so by the number of comments I receive on any given day.
Six is actually high these days,
but still, I reckon my calculations are pretty fair.

But
APPARENTLY,
I am dead wrong in my assumption.
As the person-who-shall-not-be-named
has informed me--
she has friends who read my blog--
Young adults who frequent my lil' peice o' scrambled-egg-homemade-crockery.
I.am.astounded. flattered. and slightly bewildered.
I had no stinkin' idea that anyone under the age of 25 would find an ounce of interest
on this blog page.
And because of that degree of ignorance,
I shared something here,
that was not going to be shared by the "she" that has been previously mentioned,
until an actual large, white, envelope
postmarked from Salt Lake City, Utah
was both delivered and read by
the Addressee,
in this case, it would be a young Celine Dion fan,
who likes to run marathons, text all the livin' long day,
and considers chocolate another food group.

In her words,
and I most emphatically quote,
"Mom cannot keep a secret!"

It's true.
I hung my noggin in full shame and declared to her,
"I had no idea your friends read my blog. How cool is that?!"
And then I apologized for sharing that which was,
technically not my news to share;
even though I was in labor for 9 long hours,
and had an un-medicated, natural birth
for the above-noted "she".
Even though,
for the past 21 years, 9 months
I have prayed and paid her way through
this mortal life.
Clearly, I have over-stepped my boundaries
in sharing my excitement
with my six known-followers
on this tiny little blog that gets a few hundred hits a day.
Clearly,
I need to take a minute and reconsider my attempts
to record my pride and exuberance
over the choices such a lovely child o' mine would make
in her young life.
Clearly.

So this is it--
I feel real bad about this.
Really.
Almost as bad as I felt in labor with you, dear child.
Especially the part where I let out a scream at the end
when my body pushed out a 8 pound 5 ounce human being.
But that was then,
and this is now.
And a secret, even a dumb one, is still a dumb secret that is not mine to tell.

p.s. The mailman has yet to deliver that big,white envelope. And when he does, I am bound to wait
to share the sacred destination of her mission until she has made 3 phone calls: 1st goes to a person known as "The Big O", 2nd goes to "Wild One" and 3rd to someone whom I cannot remember.  After that, I have permission to shout it from the rooftops.

Summer Times

Yesterday was a day of memories.

Of course, it didn't start out that way.
It started out to be just an ordinary, nuthin-to-do-kinda day.

We ran a couple of errands
in different directions.
But eventually, around noon,
all the girls were home,
while Joseph was with his buddy Nate
down at the fishin' pond
as he usually is every summer day.

But the girls were home with me;
and I was busy all day long
finishing up a sewing project
that took over the dining room table.

I'm making a custom valance and matching kitchen window valance
for a very sweet friend of mine. (Hi Lynnel!)
I've never made custom window treatments like the ones I'm making
and so it's taken me a long stinkin' time to get this right.
Did you know that other than a sewing machine, scissors, and thread,
a seam-ripper is a really important tool
if you're a novice seamstress like me?

I mean, I can sew square things with the best of 'em, no prob, Bob.
But, anything beyond that and it gets tricky.

Anyway,
that's what I was doing:
the entire dining room is covered in fabric,
an ironing board,
a little fan (to quell the hot flashes)
a little stereo and a stack of cd's
and
all of my girls.

Laughing,
Singing with the cd's blaring,
and in general just doing nothing but laying around
the table on the floor with pillows
and snacks.

I handed the cd case to Nana
n' told her to be the DJ essentially,
to keep the music flowing.
Since it's my  cd case,
we listened to Celine Dion,
Dixie Chicks,
Sleepless in Seattle soundtrack,
Rascal Flatts,
for starters.

Dinner time rolled around,
n' I was still sewing.
The girls were given charge to make dinner,
and made "Shepherd's Pie"--a total comfort food.
Mr. W came home from work,
ate dinner on the very end of the table,
the only cleared place available,
and didn't mind the mess one bit.
He chatted with all of us girls,
for a long while,
'til Joseph came home then the two of them went upstairs
to watch "Swamp People" on TV.

The girls talked and teased and laughed--
sometimes I didn't even know what for,
cuz ya know, I was focused on sewing,
but it was just the absolute closeness and sounds of giggling
that made it so nice to be together
in the diningroom.

We lamented that our oldest, Danielle, wasn't there.
She's a Mom now and doesn't get to just
sit around and do nothing.
She's busy chasing her boys and being a wife.
Diana said, she's gonna miss these kinda days
when she goes on her mission--
which btw, we still don't know where she's going.
I went to the mailbox twice yesterday,
and even caught up with the mail lady at another set of mailboxes,
to have her check for a big white envelope.
Nuthin' yet.

Diana's had her own trials--
that ironically began as soon as she decided
to go on a mission--
she sprained her ankle training for a Tough Mudder marathon,
then got strep throat and scarlett fever in the same week,
then fractured her wrist and ended up spraining her neck,
also training--
which forced her doctor to counsel her NOT to participate at all
in the Tough Mudder this weekend. Tomorrow.
She was feeling bummed out (and hurt) most of this week,
but especially yesterday,
and yet, by the end of the evening,
she was "okay" with the situation.
Laughing at Life with your sisters can have that effect,
I guess.
Time allows for perspective.
Shepherd's Pie is comforting.

We laughed as we thought about some of our good friends
who are taking their summer vacations
to the far reaches of the world--
and here we are, gathered in the diningroom,
having such a good time
doing nothing that requires a suitcase or a passport.
That is just not the reality of our life.
There isn't an excess of money just laying around
waiting to be used up for vacations.
Our funds are spoken for--
we have a missionary that we're gearing up,
and small things like tennis lessons,
and fishing gear,
and new brakes for my car,
n' boring stuff like that.
Ordinary life, people.
Ordinary life with an emphasis on Summer Time.
Sharing silly things and the part of ourselves
that only we "get" and appreciate.

It reminds me of that saying,

"We may not have it all together,
but together we have it all."

These are the best times.

What's the best memories of your family times?

Callings

Mr W and I received a new calling in the ward
a couple of weeks ago.
It's to be ward missionaries.

Now, I have always thought I'd like to serve in that capacity,
for a few different reasons,
but the main one is simply that
I really really enjoy
sharing what I know,
sharing what has blessed my life.

It's like, when you have found the very best chocolate cake recipe
and you want give everyone you know the recipe too.
It's just that good.

So when we were asked to serve in this new capacity,
the answer was absolutely "yes!"...
but there was the matter of the calling we've been serving in
since last year--
that of Primary teachers for the Valiant 10B class,
which is the Caboose's class of 10-turning-11 year olds.

When you receive one calling,
you usually are released from the other.

But.

We didn't wanna be released.
We really didn't.
We even moved up with our class last year,
to be with them
because we love these crazy kids.

But that's going up stream, if you get me.
Two callings can be stressful.

We thought about it.
Alot.
Last Sunday, we told the Primary Presidency,
we'd stick around until they found permanent teachers,
so our class wouldn't have to have substitutes.
That made every one involved happy--
us
the kids
the leaders.

And then we got to teaching yesterday,
and towards the end of class,
we had the kids write in a note
"to the next teacher"
the things they liked about our class.
Some of them:

"1. I love the movie and popcorn at the end of the month. 
  2. I love playing hangman at the beginning of class.
  3. Sharing the best part of our week."  

"Food. Games. Movie."

"I love popcorn and how we review the things we learned that month. I LOVE how silly our class is. I love hangman and how smart our class is. And the best part of our week."

"Snacks and more snacks, movies, gum, No RED 40, popcorn, cheese-its, hangmans games, fun, cheesecake, supcakes, awesomeness, sausage/bacon cheese chili dogs, ham sandwiches, chicken nuggets, chips and salsa, water, walks outside, eating food outside."

Now, in case you're flabbergasted by the last one--he's just joshin'.  We've only ever shared popcorn and cheese-its on movie day.  I am not quite sure what he's hoping to achieve by writing a smorgasborg menu down.  And we've never had class outside. lol  Can you see why I love him though?

We watch the video series called "Book of Mormon Stories" which is divided up into chapters of the BoM, on the 4th Sunday of every month. We start from where we ended the previous month and review what we learned up until the current Sunday.  It's usually about 15 minutes worth, and I bring popcorn usually to eat during the movie.  The kids love this and obviously, it helps to see the stories we've been learning about.

As for "hangman" and "Best part of our week"--both of those are done at the beginning of class every Sunday.
As I am writing on the board and getting my lesson supplies out, the kids go around the room and share the best part of their week.  Kids love sharing something personal and it helps us all get familiar with each other.
"Hangman" is the word guessing game...and the word is the TOPIC of the lesson that day.

Simple things really, but it's what makes our class time awesome.

Thoughts of leaving this class before the year was up,
was enough to bring tears to my eyes.
I told the kids how much we love them,
how brilliant they all are,
how blessed we feel to have been their teachers,
and how I'm going to know them all their lives,
and they better ALWAYS smile at me in the hallways at church
or whenever we see one another.
And, I will probably tease them when they start dating.

It was hard to say goodbye after church yesterday.
It didn't feel right.

So, Mr W and I talked about it some more
on the way home from church
and once we got home,
we made a decision.
Mr W said, "Ask if we can stay."

I called the Primary President and asked if we could just stay in this calling
until the end of the year.
Her response was,
"Thank you so much. We haven't even submitted names yet, because we just couldn't think of anyone to replace you. The names just wouldn't come."

That's because Heavenly Father knew we wouldn't be going anywhere, yeah?

We have many opportunities to serve in many different callings in the Church--
I, myself, have served in everything from teaching primary, SS youth, Young Women, Relief Society a dozen times over, Stake and Ward callings, and now, a ward missionary.  It is remarkable that we all get the chance to try on new experiences with one another across the board.
If you asked me which calling was my favorite--it'd probably be the one I'm serving in at the time.

So, we're staying in Primary with these brilliant kids and we're trying out something new too as ward missionaries.  It's kinda like we hit the jackpot,
if you ask me.

Good Soil

Summer is in full swing where I live.
Grasses are green,
trees are clothed in their different varieties and colors of leaves,
flowers are bursting with blossoms,
and I got to thinkin' about
soil.

Some yards are near-heavenly to gaze upon--
lush, lively, meticulously landscaped and inviting.
Some are pretty average looking--
green lawns are mowed, a shrub here and there,
but not without a few wild dandelions to keep it real.
And then
there are those yards that are weed-filled and ragged;
bare spots of dirt, clods of grass in shaded areas,
sad-looking blankets of earth, left unattended.

It reminds me of the Parable of the Sower that is recorded
by Matthew in the New Testament, Chapter 13:
he basically tells the story of the sower who is planting seeds
and as he does, some seeds fell by the side and were eaten by birds,
some fell on stones where there wasn't any soil to nourish them,
so when the sun shone, they were scorched and withered.
Some seeds fell into thorns and weeds and were choked out.
BUT
other seeds fell into good ground
and brought forth much fruit.

After Jesus shares this parable with his disciples,
they want an explanation.

The explanation is that
people are like those seeds.

Some people don't even understand the "good news"
and are quick to be distracted.
Some people receive the gospel with joy,
but when tribulation or persecution comes,
the roots aren't there to help them not be offended.
And the one who hears the gospel message,
but is distracted by the noise and temptations of the world,
so those "thorns" choke out "the word".
But then,
then there's those seeds that are 'received into the good ground"
where the learn the gospel,
nourish it,
live it,
and then go on to share it,
bearing enormous amounts of good fruit.

So I've been thinking about this Season I'm in
and I'm thinking about the kind of
Soil
I've been in for most of my days.
And what I've decided is that the soil
I was "planted" in,
must be good.


I came to this conclusion this week,
when I looked at the two magazines that came in
the mail--
the only two magazines I subscribe to
are
The Ensign (published by the LDS Church)
and
Southern Living.

I'm a southern girl at heart.
I pour thru the pages of Southern Living,
first the tourism pages of favorite beaches,
then the decorated homes with luscious landscaping
of climbing roses, magnolias, crepe myrtles, 
perwinkle, gardenia--
and I just haveta say that I cannot
CANNOT pass a gardenia bush
at King Soopers or Home Depot
without stopping to smell those beautiful white blossoms
that used to fill my childhood home in Florida
with their exotic fragrance.
"It's just near cruel that they even have those plants for sale here",
I lament, knowing that those same plants will be near-dead by November
up here at 6700 feet above sea level.
Anyway, I pour over the pages and
recall the brilliant flora of my
younger days.
Nevermind that those plants don't grow here in the Rocky Mountains--
reminiscing about them is enough for me.

The recipe sections are my favorite part of the magazine--
the amounts and measurements of this and that
are only complimented in my mind by the notion
that these Southern recipes are meant to be
Shared with your family, your church members, your neighbors.

That's the best part of being Southern...
your world is larger than the end of your nose.

I love being from the South.
I know what it feels like to ride bareback
on back-country dirt roads with Spanish moss hanging so low,
you can swat it with your hands as you ride under it.
I know swimming holes
and swinging on heavy ropes tied around cypress trees,
even when you don't have your swimsuit on.
I know what it smells like after a rain shower,
and what a magical thing it is to see steam raising off the asphalt roads
after a July rainstorm on a Carolina afternoon.
I know the fun of buying a bright yellow western shirt,
donning a cowboy hat and saddling up to get to the Houston Livestock and Rodeo to hear Conway Twitty and eating some good, sticky "Q".
I am a former beach baby--
when Miami highways were un-crowded ribbons of grey
that beckoned us to stop the car
and run out to the foamy shorelines in our bare feet.
Those memories are good soil.
I know good Baptist barbeques,
tent revivals,
dating the Preacher's son
and all the words to
"I Stand All Amazed".


Good Soil, right there.

My other magazine with bent corners
is the Ensign.
Pictures and testimonies of fellow travellers
from all over the world.
My sisters in Africa
who walked for nine days to get their temple recommends.
Or those members who share their journeys of faith
after the tsunami in China,
the hurricanes in Joplin, Oklahoma, and other far reaches in the world.
Wise, divine counsel from Church leaders who basically say
what I need to hear:
Heavenly Father knows and loves me.
He's in charge.
Nevermind the storms, the perils of this life,
nevermind the thorns and distractions--
dig deep into the soil I've been planted in
and grow my roots long and deep in Him.
Trust His strength and mercy.
I am here to do good and be good.
Where much is given,
much is expected.
My strengths as well as my weaknesses
are part of my story.
Part of my growing season.

I am just an ordinary gardener.
My yard has some daylilies, lilacs, sweet williams,
pansies, and a few trees too--
Aspens, Ash, Blue Spruce,
and some other pathetic trees whose names I don't know.
But there are also some rogue dandelions and other weeds that
need tending.
You know you never just pull at the leaves of the intruders,
you have to get down to the roots to get rid of them.
Sometimes, trials are like that.
You have to get to the heart of those bothersome sins/weaknesses
before they go away.

My gardening skills are akin to my life skills;
Spring surprises me with blossoms that I didn't expect,
and weeds pop up too.
But the secret is to keep at it.
Pull those weeds,
nourish the good seeds,
tend to the edging,
and invite people over to share what I've been able to create.

It's that Southern blood running through me
that wants to share
grits and eggs,
Saturday morning breakfast with the missionaries,
taking chocolate chip cookies to my new neighbors,
and a dinner for a sister's family whose mourning the death
of their beloved granpa.
Is it my Southern roots or my Mormon life
that makes me a
"Natural Gatherer"?
My best days are when the house is full of family and friends,
n' we all offer prayers at the table
and share the blessings of the day with one another.
I can't help it.
It's who I am.
I am honored when missionaries call me "Mom"
and tear-up when they are leaving our home
that very last time.


I am equally attracted to those meticuluosly tended to lawns in my neighborhood,
as I am to the barren yards where even weeds are sparse.
What does that say about me?
I don't know.
People are like that, you know.
Some have more than enough
and some don't.
Charity sees what the soul needs,
I've learned that from strong Southern roots
and Mormon blossoms.

It's the soil I was planted in.
It's Growing Season here in the Rockies.

"by their fruits ye shall know them."
What about your "roots" defines you? Inquiring minds wanna know.

My Selfish Summer Plans, Mother's Day Revisited, and other assorted happenings

This was the last week of school before summer break.

It feels great to be on this end of the week
as opposed to last Monday.

It was kinda crazy--
finals, finishing up last minute projects,
pushing the yahoos to get every little thing turned in
for those final grades.

Whew!
I'm exhausted.

And ready for Summer.

I'm calling this my
"Selfish Summer"...
I'm going to really work on treating my body
more like a temple
and less like a Drive-In movie lot.

ya get me?

One goal is to walk every morning
for as long as I want to.
No miles,
no time,
just me, my ipod loaded with my favorite tunes,
and may be one of the dogs.
No kids.

I am thinking (and hoping) that this ritual will do two things:
*Work my bahooey off
*Save my sanity

Cuz' seriously, Mr W's already having dreams wherein he comes home from work, and Momza ain't nowhere to be found.

He fully supports my "Selfish Summer" goals.

Other things on my SS list:
Paint this house.
Room by Room.
Any color I want, with total disregard for anyone under 5'8" tall's opinion.
I've got one more summer
before the kids start passing me up in this house,
so ya know I gotta take advantage of that.

Also,  I'm going to practice the piano every day.
Even if it's 8am in the morning.
It's about time I do more than dust that beautiful instrument.

I'm also thinking of dragging my family thru a month of Vegetarianism.
Nana's already doing it,
all the cool kids are doing it,
summer's a great time to get fresh veggies
so ya know...
Why Not? I say. Why not?

SO that's alls I got for my Selfish Summer.

I guess I should share my awesome Mother's Day--
it was so busy,
I still sorta cringe when I think about it.

We had Dean down for the weekend.
We went to Golden for Dani's ward meetings
bc she spoke in her sacrament on the topic
of, what else?--
Motherhood.
She said alot of different things,
wonderful things,
inspiring things,
but my favorite part was when she shared
her love of the Gospel.
And me.
Dean liked it almost as much as I did,
but right towards the end of her talk,
he said OUTLOUD so everyone could hear,
"Dani, you got two minutes!" 
She noted his comment, "That's my handicapped brother Dean, keeping me in line as always." and continued on like a professional despite her brother's
heckling.


Mr W and the yahoos gave me a new fancy-schmancy camera--
and I've been taking all kinds of pictures with it.
Sadly, tho, our pc is about to kick the bucket,
and won't let me upload anything.
Yeah. I know.
It's only 6 years old, FCOL.
I have shoes older than this pc and cost way less!
I'm just sayin'.

For Mother's Day I also rec'd a lovely handmade shutterfly book
from Danielle filled with pictures and memories of the two of us.
I didn't get past the first page without bawling.
She shoulda wrapped it with a Kleenex box inside,
because seriously, there was some "ugly" cryin' goin' on.

David Scott sent me the sweetest card--
I want to save it forever.
But first, I have to find it again.
I read it, bawled (it's what I do)
and then promptly mis-placed it.
But, really, it was beautiful and I loved his words to me.

Dean gave me an assortment of wood projects he's made,
and a card and a potted purple chrysanthemum.

Diana gave me a lovely oil painting to go over my mantel,
and a bouquet of flowers.

Dara...shoot what did she give me?  Oh yeah, the camera.

Joseph brought me  a lovely bouquet of flowers too.

Arianna made me a card that I am going to keep forever and ever,
amen.
Inscribed was :
"Happy Mother's Day Mom.
I love you so much because
you're the only one who can handle my anger.
I love you."

true story.
Girlfriend is a hot head.
I talk her off the ledge somedays,
and others,
I thank her for the entertainment,
and still others,
I tell her I didn't buy a ticket for her show
so I'll be leaving right then.

She calms down eventually,
and we both agree that's a crummy waste of ten minutes.

Speaking of time and wasting it--
as we were leaving a very very very long commencement from
Mr Idaho's college,
Joseph said,
"Well that's 3 hours of my life I'll never get back."
Ari chimed in with a "Can I get an 'Amen'?"
 "Amen.", came the crowd around us as we walked back to the car.

Tonight, being the first night of Summer Break,
Mr W and Joseph went on a big hike up to Stanley Canyon
with the scouts
where they're spending the night.
The girls and I treated ourselves to dinner and a movie night at home.
On the way home from dinner,
they sang at the top of their lungs with the radio.
At one point,
n' I don't know if I could even relate the entire conversation correctly,
but it ended with Ari exclaiming: "Don't judge my boobs!"
I laughed so hard, I almost pulled the car over.

Girls.

Diana, also laughing her guts out, looked at me,
and said, "I'm gonna miss this so much."
Then she committed her sisters to write down every new song they hear
for the entire 18 months she'll be gone on a mission,
and make a CD every 6 months to save for her when she returns.
I do believe there was a "pinky promise, promise" in there.
Emphasis on the double promise, promise.

Arianna had her 5th grade "Continuation Ceremony" last night.
It was my last night in elementary school.
I feel both liberated and sentimental about the whole thing.
Now, the ceremony was just as you'd expect from a 5th grade class.
Too long.

But, it was a celebration for Ari because
she had her sisters fix her hair,
paint her nails,
she wore a new little white eyelet sundress
and a sweet ruffled green cardigan over it
with new floral KEDS sneakers.

She looked like an 11 year old girl,
while some of her classmates looked like
they were going to Prom.

Of course I took pictures,
but ya know, I can't upload...
pssh.

This is the first week,
where we only finished up one staging
and that was that!
It turned out to be a good thing,
because we had some flu bugs going around
and Diana got strep throat AND scarlet fever,
so I was needed at home anyway.
And,
I took BEFORE and AFTER pics of the homes we staged
this last month,
but again, I can't get them to all upload.
N' I don't wanna only upload the BEFOREs without the AFTERs.


Lastly,
this morning as I was making my bed,
I accidentally knocked my rings off the nightstand,
and one rolled so far away,
that I had to get on my knees to be able to retrieve it.
And, for no good reason,
while I was on my knees,
I suddenly was compelled to say my morning prayers
right that second.
Even while my bedroom door was open,
and the other side of the bed wasn't made yet,
and Mr W was shaving in the bathroom,
and I hadn't been thinking about my prayers this morning
yet, at all.
But there I was, on my knees,
and this is a sign I must be getting really old--
because I thought,
"Hmmm. I'm already down here. I might as well pray."

So. ya know. I did.
Because  when you're old,
it's not so easy anymore to get down and up again
on your crackly knees,
so when you're down there,
aside from picking off lint from the floor,
and seeing a random candy wrapper that some carefree child tossed there,
you get to the point where common sense takes over,
and you make the best of it.


Also in the news:
My BFF Nan had her big 5-0 birthday this week.
I invited some of our friends over for a brunch to celebrate her.
I want to confess right here, that I made absolutely nothing from scratch.
And there was not one complaint!
We laughed and laughed,
and I asked each gal ahead of time,
to write some special memories they had of Nan,
which I printed out and put in a little folder for her.
During the brunch,
each sister read aloud what they'd written.
It was sweet and funny,
and almost like she'd died--lol!!
She laughed and cried at the same time,
so I know it was a successful celebration of our loving friend.

In other news:
A woman in Colorado Springs was arrested for trying to rob a 7-11 with a potato.  Liquor was involved. The potato was also held as evidence and is no longer roaming the streets of Colorado Springs, but so far no charges have been filed.  True story right there. This, on the same day that Pres. Obama was here for the Air Force Academy Graduation.  One town, much diversity.

Lastly, my most favorite talk from General Conference was this one:
 Laborers in the Vineyard.

N' that's all I got right now.

I Am A Christian and A Mormon*

I love my Savior Jesus Christ.
He is my Redeemer and my truest, dearest Friend.
I know that He loves me and knows me by name.
I worship Him and my Heavenly Father and noone else.
Not Joseph Smith--the man who restored the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the earth
or
Thomas S. Monson, the man who is called as our Prophet today.
I do not worship them.
I love their testimonies of Christ and their witness of His Divinity.
I am a Christian because I follow Christ.
I am not an Evangelical.
I am not a Protestant.
I am a Latter-Day Saint.
A Mormon.

Politics are not my thing.
I vote when I believe in a candidate
on any level--
local, regional or for POTUS...
and when I don't believe any of the candidates
I don't vote
for a "party" out of loyalty.

But it's near-impossible to ignore
the media's reporting on those who are ignorant
about my faith.
With the "politically correct-ness" of the society I live in,
it surprises me that there is no such thing
when it comes to "the Mormons".
We are fair game for any kind of derogatory comment,
ignorant summation,
comedic fodder and
faith bashing.

It was even spoofed on the
Jon Stewart show recently.
I wasn't laughing.

The spoof was unilaterally discrediting
the Protestant, LDS and Jewish faiths--
but it wasn't funny.
It was unnerving.
And yes, I get that that's the point--
to bring to light the "ridiculousness"
of the very topic of
"faith" and contrast it with politics.
It doesn't fit.
Not in the world we live in
in the twenty-first century.
Not when every single day,
I wake up to read that mothers and fathers
are killing their own babies.
Not when our prisons are over-crowded mental hospitals--
when nearly every single cellmate is on some kind of medication.
Not when we are sending our fathers and mothers
and sons and daughters
all over the world to fight political wars in countries
I'd never even heard of
as a child.
It's just not funny.

Truth is the world would be better if politics
had a moral, ethical, spiritual standard as it's foundation
we all know that,
but then we're mixing Church and State
and that's inherently controversial right there.
But seriously,
the one thing that should be off-limits, or at least considered
"poor taste"
should be the bashing of other people's faith.

The LDS Church doesn't tell me who to vote for--
it just says to vote for the best candidate that my conscience allows.
I don't know Mitt Romney.
I've been reading up on him this last year,
assuming he might run again for President.
I'm not going to vote for him simply because he's
a member of my faith.
I know what he believes as a member of
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.
What I don't know is
what he believes in as a
Republican Politician.
Truth is, I'm not sure about him yet.*

I used to be Protestant.
I was raised in the Baptist faith--
and my father's side of the family are all members of
The Holy Pentecostal faith.
Some of them have their theology degrees from
The San Antonio International Bible College
and have run their own churches.
My father graduated from that same place.
But he chose not to be a pastor/reverend when he
became a young adult.
Frankly, it was because of the salary;
he became a salesman of goods
rather than a salesman of God.


When I was a teenager,
I studied the LDS faith at the invitation of a wonderful friend--
and chose for myself to be baptized into it.
I wasn't brain-washed or tricked into it.
Nope, I was taught the doctrine and invited to pray and know for myself
if it was true.
The Holy Ghost answered that prayer
and I have been a member going on 33 years next month.
Yes, it was that powerful of an answer
that changed my life forever.

I don't appreciate being told that I'm not a Christian
by people who profess to know Christ themselves.
And it's a lie.
It's a lie to protect their lifestyles.
I know Christ.
I have felt His love for me
in my darkest hours.
The Holy Ghost whispers peace to my soul
and witnesses the truth of all things to my heart and mind.
I am a Christian.
So when I hear from someone who has their own agenda--
political, social, or otherwise
that they know my faith better than I do,
it is insulting and wrong.
I know what I believe and in whom I put my faith.
I am not "misguided" or "deceived"--
it is literally the opposite.

I've sat in on Sunday School classes in the churches of my youth
when it was "Cult Sunday".
I know what they preach against--
anyone who is not like them,
and any other perceived threat to their livelihoodor status in the community.
I really hope that that kind of teaching has disappeared in this
day and age,
but sadly, there is much evidence
that it hasn't.

We don't have classes like that in the LDS Church--
we recognize that all faiths have good in them.
Our time isn't spent together bashing other faiths
but strengthening our own.
That's why you don't hear a huge backlash from the
14+ Million members across the globe
when we're accused of all kinds of stupid things.
We don't have horns,
We don't have more than one spouse,
We don't do anything weird in our temples.
We do wear sacred garments.
And I find that that's a confusing topic of interest to people outside of our faith,
but if you look around
many faiths have unique sacred items of dress,
though usually on the outside
where ours is worn on the inside.
Just as our prayers are not to be shouted in public
for attention
Neither are our personal tokens of faith.
It's truly personal.

As I have watched Mitt Romney's rise in the polls,
to the point where he is now the projected candidate
to go up against President Barack Obama,
a knot has been forming up in the back of my throat.
It's because I have watched as the waves of bigotry
have built up to a tsunami of ignorance...
and the voices of reason are nearly drowned out
when there is an effort to push back.

I never thought, when I was a sixteen year old convert,
that there would be an LDS President of the United States.
When I joined the church,
there was just barely two million members world wide.
But here we are,
and it's amazing to witness the changes in our nation.
We are a nation that desperately needs a true Leader.
My prayers often include our politicians--
that they will be inspired and true.
I don't care what faith they ascribe to,
I just want the country I love so much,
to be better than it is today,
for me,
for my children,
for my fellow Americans
and for those across the oceans
that I share this beautiful world with...
we so need a Leader who can inspire and lift,
don't we?


Okay, so I'm off track a bit--
I just wanted to set the record straight for anyone
who is not LDS and reads this to know
that I am a Christian and a Mormon.
The sign on my church building reads:
The Church of Jesus Christ 
of Latter-Day Saints.


If you are not a member of the LDS faith and have questions,
please someone else who is also LDS.
Just like you wouldn't go to a Ford dealership and ask about a Chevy,
go to the best source of information.
You're also invited to check out the
Church's Official websites:
LDS.org
or
mormon.org


*Post script:  This was originally posted in October 2011.  As I have followed the course of the debates and primaries, I am satisified with how Mitt Romney has surfaced and I will be voting for him in November. Some of this original post has been modified to my current feelings.

Summer's Comin'!

It's the last Monday of the school year.

I am so stinkin' excited,
I can't even put it into words.

Unstructured days of sunshine and flip-flops.
Camping trips and cook-outs.
Sleeping in and late nights.

This summer will be a busy one,
but oh my!
It's gonna be a memorable one!

Dani & Mr Idaho are moving.
Diana's hoping to leave for a mission. (No word yet on the destination!)

Lots of camping trips for the kids--
boy scouts, girl's camp,
tennis lessons and summer camps.

I love this time of year!

Determination

Sometimes, they say,
the only way to go through trials
is just to plow ahead.

Just keep your head down
and walking with a purpose.

Don't look to the Left or the Right.

Just Do It.

Emphasis on the
Do
It.

I'm here to say,
I've seen alot of that goin' on in my world lately.
Specifically
in my daughter's eyes.
And in my son-in-law's life.

Mr. Idaho graduated last weekend
from a really tough engineering college--
the Colorado School of Mines.

Not only did he graduate,
he was Magna Cum Laude.
And he rec'd two very prestigious awards
that were only awarded to two other people.
His name is going on a plaque where it will remain
forever and ever
Amen.

And he did that with a wife and two babies,
along with serving as Elders' Quorum President
for the duration of his time in school.

He did it the way he did it,
because that's just who he is.
There was no other option.
He didn't make it look easy.
He didn't do it alone--
he had the support of terrific parents
and his wife held down the fortress in his absence.
There were sacrifices all around.
But, the fact is,
he did it.


Last night,
I watched with pure excitement
as my daughter clicked the
SUBMIT button
for her mission papers.

She has been hmmm'ing and haaa-ing
about going on a mission for awhile now.
She would gather some steam
until some handsome boy came by
and blow it all away with a wink and a smile.
She's also been preparing for a handfull
of relays and marathons...
all spaced out over summer.

We finally had a lull in the wave of distractions--
and that's when it happened.
Girlfriend sprained her ankle so badly,
she was in bed for 3 days straight.

God does things to get our attention sometimes
and this was it for her.

She read her scriptures for three days straight
covering hundreds of pages.
By the time she could stand on her own two feet,
she knew what direction she would start walking towards--
a mission.

She made the appointments with her Bishop and Stake President.
She made the appointments with her dentist and doctor to get
all of her medical papers filled out and turned in,
within two weeks.
All of it.
Done.

And now,
we wait for the large white envelope
revealing where it is she is going.

All of this determination has inspired me
to shrug off the distractions that produce little to no happiness in my life.
I've been working like crazy
staging homes with my friend and partner, Kelly.
It is rewarding to be creative and purposeful with the talents
I've been given,
however non-monumental they are...
I've been more focused on loving my family better,
being a better Primary teacher whose students
know that "Sister Anderson loves me."
I stopped worrying about my memory problems,
health limitations, etc., and just hunkered down
with some old-fashioned determination.

And it has made a difference to me.

It is like that scientific exercise that says
a body in motion
stays in motion.

It fills and fulfills in all the right ways.

I'm Old Enough to be her Mother

Confession:
All of my friends' kids are nearly grown--or at least graduating high school this year--(shout out to Kelly's Emily and Peri's Karli!)...I joke that by the time my youngest graduates, I'll have one foot in the grave.
With my oldest turning 29 this summer and the youngest at just 11, I can say I've been "mothering" for a long stinkin' time!

I am not the same "mom" I was when the oldest kids held me hostage. I was younger, of course, and had alot of growing up to do with them.  Sometimes, when they threw their tantrums, I threw my own. I was still immature and impatient at times.

This is my last year in 5th grade. If you count my own education, I've been in 5th grade 8 times.  I can write book reports about Abe Lincoln, Harriet Tubman, Florence Nightengale, Madagascar, Monitor Lizards and can make a DNA string out of starbursts, the Eiffel Tower AND an Egyptian pyramid outta sugar cubes, and a tub of frosting. Cream cheese tastes best, fyi.

Yesterday, I escorted the Caboose on a special field trip with 11 other girls in her class.  They placed 1st, 2nd and 3rd in the Stock Market Game in the State of Colorado, so just the 12 of them plus their teacher, Mr. Hinkle, had the privilege of skipping school and going up to the Denver Zoo to a special meeting with the other winners in the State to receive their awards.  Dani and Mr. Idaho and their boys met up with us at the zoo too.

We took with us, her giggly-ball-of-sunshine-and-chatter friend, Katie.  Katie is wonderful at being an 11 year old girl.  I told her mom she should grow up to be an Auctioneer because that girl can talk about anything faster than anyone I've ever met. And she does it with enthusiasm!  She is a pint-sized girl and a blonde bob that frames her face full of angel kisses.  The hour long trip was an education in and of itself.

When we met up with other girls from their class, it was a reunion of squeals and ponytails! I walked behind with some other mothers--clearly, I reigned as the Oldest Mother there.  And I liked it.  I mean, I really really liked it.
As I looked around at the zoo, mostly patroned by young mothers and toddlers in strollers and babies in slings tethered to their bodies, I was glad to still be in their company.

Having a child when I was nearly 40 years old was good for me. I am not full of energy to run around like I used to..but I am also not [as] immature as I used to be either.  It takes all kinds of energy to get worked up about stuff, that, life has taught me, doesn't warrant getting upset or worked up about in the long run.
SO I let things go easier.  The Caboose has a much mellower Mom than my oldest yahoos did--

So what that she's worn her new favorite summer dress three times in a week--without being washed first?!  She's 11, she'll get over it.  So what if she would rather take leftovers from last night's dinner to school instead of making a snadwich or buying from the cafeteria?!  So what if she'd rather wear her hair in a ponytail 6 days in 7?!  And those Barbies covering the floor in her room--they'll all but disappear in a few more months. And that will be sad. No more cruising down the Barbie aisle at Target for me again until I have granddaughters. I already have to walk past the fairy dresses and baby dolls... I want to enjoy the Barbie aisle just a little longer, please. 
The Caboose keeps me young and active with her school trips and projects, her gaggle of giggly-ponytailed-chatterbox-friends who talk about everything girly thing under the sun--[mostly boys, music] and reminds me of my own youth.

I found myself smiling and laughing at their silliness and at the end of the day, when catching up with Mr. W at dinner last night, I just had a moment where I got a little boob-ish as I confessed the best part of my day was hanging out with twelve 11 year old girls and holding my grandsons on my lap at the same time.

 *this is the entire group from her class with her teacher, Mr. Hinkle.  Some of their winning stocks included: Aeropostale, Facebook, Chipotle, Bud Light beer, American Eagle and iTunes.  That's a testament to the power of name recognition, right there.  Their teams made more than $300,000 in 15 weeks, combined, playing the Stock Market Game.
 

Random Ketchup

*I'm heading up to the Denver Zoo this morning because Arianna and 11 other girls in her 5th grade class won the Stock market game for elementary schools in Colorado.  Her class alone, took 1st, 2nd and 3rd places for the whole state.
Arianna is going to be my financial advisor from now on.

*I've been busy with our Staging business--we've had one house a week for the past 3 weeks.  I'll post Befores and Afters soon!  Love the results!  If you're putting your house up FOR SALE, hire a stager before the sign goes in the yard!!

*I have a secret.  It.is.killing.me. not to share it.  Hint: It involves a child and certain "papers" and travelling.  ACK!!!

* I got a new dishwasher to replace the old one that sounded like it was a NASA space shuttle getting ready for launch!  After looking around town at Sears, Home Depot, and an appliance outlet, we found the one we wanted at Lowe's.  Best deal right there--we saved $150.00 by shopping with them.

*It snowed on Monday. It's going to 75o today. I LOVE Colorado!

*I'm ready to sell the dogs. They're driving me crazy. It's a BUY 1 GET 1 Free deal.  Two dollars and they're yours.  Free Delivery.  A three year old Lab, and a 5 year old Golden. Yours for a song.

* I am reading two books right now: "I Beat the Odds" by Michael Oher--the young football player about whom the movie, "The Blind Side" was written.  I've enjoyed reading it so much, I want each of my kids to read it as well.
"Tell Me Who I Am" compiled by DeNae Handy--the personal stories of a number of LDS people and their life experiences that have contributed to who they are today.  I just got that one the other day, but so far, I've really enjoyed it.

*This weekend is going to be nutz--Friday is Mr. Idaho's graduation from college. Then, we're picking up Dean for the weekend. Saturday morning is a special breakfast/brunch with Ari at Activity Days and a Morningside for Joseph and Dara.  Sunday we're heading back up to Golden as Danielle is speaking in her ward about "Mothers", then we're taking Dean home.  Sunday night, I will be curled up in a ball, exhausted.

And that's all I can remember!

Another Reason I love Colorado SO

Snow!
Yep, even tho we had bright blue sunny skies
and 88o temps on Friday...
today,
it is snowing!!
Love it!!!