Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Plot Twist: How Far out of My Comfort Zone Are We Moving?

It started a few months ago...
this feeling that we'd be moving to the Great North West...
I told Mr. W that I just "had a feeling" we'd be moving there.

I looked at my favorite real estate site Realtor.com
to check out places like Portland, Corvalis, & Seattle.
And then I just tucked those thoughts and feelings
right on the back burner
because it just didn't make sense, you know,
because we love Colorado and had absolutely no contacts in the NW.

Then last week,
a recruiter contacted Mr. W about a job in the Great North West.
Mr. W casually mentioned it to me last Friday--
it perked my ears up a little. Just a little.
Because he is frequently contacted by recruiters but nothing comes of it--
nothing to tempt us to leave Colorado.
But because it was the Great North West,
it got my attention for a few minutes then you know,
LIFE grabbed my attention and I forgot about the call.

On Monday, Mr. W gave a phone interview and it went so well,
the recruiter said he's going to recommend Mr W for the job.
It's a layered hiring process and while it's still early,
and we still have 2 more stages to go through--
I recalled that "feeling" I had months ago
and had a mixed reaction:
First,
"Wow. Is this really happening?! That'd be so cool. Let's go!"
Second,
"Wow. Is this really happening?! I'm not ready!"

I was so distracted yesterday, it was impossible to focus on anything else
but researching Seattle and the areas near the Puget Sound.
Can I just say I've always had a fascination with the Puget Sound?
I've never been there, but man, it is so interesting to me.
The mountains, the ocean and lakes, the green landscapes--
all of it in one place is very enchanting to me.
Or at least the "idea" of it.

Checking out school districts first,
then mapquesting how far we could live comfortably from the
Seattle temple--
because Mr. W will want to work there too,
checking out the "What To Do" stuff,
and the home prices.
Well, my heart stopped when I found a sweet house that backed to a lake.
I mean, who wouldn't wanna live there?

In talking to our Saudi kids,
Dani said they'd been looking at that area to live and work in
once their assignment is over.
So that'd mean we'd live by grandkids eventually!
In my loft study,  I was completely sold on the idea!
Heck yeah. We'll go!

Then I drove around our little area of the world here in Colorado.
How can I possibly leave Pikes Peak?
Everyone knows I am co-dependent upon my beloved Pikes Peak.
I look over there at those snow-capped peaks a zillion times a day.
Where would I look for direction and comfort if I lived faraway in Washington?
I know of the Cascades, but man, they look so so far away from town,
and here, we sit at the foot of the Rockies.

And yes, I AM all about the Adventure of LIFE--
travelling, exploring, tasting it all--
but ACK!  Am I ready for this?

We told the Yahoos...
the older ones are totally cool with it.
We mapped out the distance between Boise & the Seattle area we're looking at,
and mapped out the distance between Rexburg and said area too.
But we hit a wall with the Caboose.
No way. No how.
She says, "I'm not leaving. I'll stay here with my friends. I'll work with Susan (my painting partner),
and be self-sufficient."
She's nearly 14 (this Friday) and is finally happy with friends, etc.
I told her we'll cross that bridge should we come to it.
As in, there is no freaking way we'd leave her behind--
but the dilemma is not even at issue yet
seeing that there has been no job offer.

All of this is both exciting and unsettling.
I wonder to myself if the "feelings" I had months ago
are rooted in Inspiration--
like when I knew we would be moving to Idaho in 2004.
Or just Not.
As we go through this process,
it feels like we are unfolding many-layers of tissue paper,
waiting to see what will become of it.

Our prayers are simple:
If this is our new direction, help us feel certain about it.
We only want what's best for the family.

And that's it.
Talk about Comfort Zones!
I totally asked for this, didn't I?!




Thursday, March 5, 2015

It's Comfortable out of the Comfort Zone


So I heard back from Listen To Your Mother-Boulder.
It's a gracious "not this time".

I am totally OK with their answer.
No really.
It was such a cool thing to audition in the first place--
something I haven't done in decades--for anything--
and it helped me think about other ways
to get out of my comfort zone n' try new things.

For instance, 
I got a new phone last night.
Its got all the bells and whistles on it,
some bells and whistles I may never use,
and some I will need to learn how to use.

I also made the floral arrangement above--
my way of thinking about Spring flowers
even though we have several inches of snow 
and only 14o yesterday.

My 2015 list of things I wanna learn includes:
a tile backsplash
watercoloring
& knitting.

Better get on it, eh?
It's March already!

What's on your list?



Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Friends of Scouting Breakfast--Outside His Comfort Zone




At 6am this morning:


Wearing his new Men's L scout shirt,
because you know, 
all 6'4" of him doesn't fit in his Men's M shirt anymore.
We didn't take all the badges off his old one,
not yet anyway.

He was invited to speak to a room full of Boy Scout leaders, sponsors,
and potential sponsors of the BSA.
Was he nervous?
Uh yeah.
He's not a polished public speaker.
In fact, this was his first time speaking to any group,
in his life.
So you know, he had to think it was worth it.


It was fancy shmancy too:
   His name in print:

 On stage, my crummy focus wouldn't work, but this is just proof he did it!

  What did share?  
His most favorite Scouting activity:  
a 3 day trek across the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains.
In his words, "Backpacking is my life!"

Here's to many more jaunts outside his comfort zone!

Monday, March 2, 2015

Building a {Snow} Man

We're in the thick of our awesome Colorado Winter.
Most days look alot like this on our street
and I haveta say, even if I might not be in the majority
I love this season.
White snow is a great equalizer--
every thing looks clean and peaceful
with a winter coat over it.
And the truth is,
this season will be over before we know it.


This young man of mine is his own season right now--
15-going-on-16 this year
and all of six foot four inches tall;
we're buying his size 14 shoes online these days.
He doesn't realize it but this season isn't going to last either.
This season where he's not sure why his mom and dad are persistent
in encouraging him to develop good habits,
habit that will carry him successfully in life.
 He is in that rare season of "between boyhood and manhood"--
somedays he isn't sure which season he even wants to be in.
His natural talents are developing and coming into a matured focus--
like building his own ski bike last week.
Building "contraptions" since he was 4 years old,
he spends alot of time in the garage
disassembling and assembling all kinds of things.
He seeks guidance from his dad sometimes,
but mostly he says, 
"I can do it myself."


We spend alot of time--
"Hey, come sit here for a second"
because the kind of "building"  
he needs along the way to Manhood
takes deliberation and purpose.
Maturity.
And let me just say,
it's a concerted effort to fill his mind and heart
as much effort as it is to
completely fuel his growing body!
Holy Smokes! this boy/man can eat--
a bowl of cereal and a egg sandwich before school,
two school lunches or a whole pizza at school,
chased by what he terms "a snack" aka a Jimmy John's sandwich 
(delivered to our garage last Saturday!)
and maybe a hamburger right before dinner,
then you know, actual dinner!
Followed by a "bednight snack" (his term)
around 8pm.
We're building a man,
and men need fuel, dontcha know?!


This snow-packed street will melt
and those sleeping branches will be buds of green
welcoming Spring,
a new season of growth in our life.
One of many seasons yet to come
for our Snow Man,
our young man, Joseph.


Sunday, March 1, 2015

What do I Know About Motherhood Anyway?

Waking up before the sun this morning,
I had one thought on my mind:
the audition for Listen To Your Mother show...
11:15am in Boulder.

I had picked the essay I wrote,
tweaked it,
practiced it with my awesome speech-class winner, Nana,
quite a few times last night
but this morning found me re-writing, re-tweaking,
re-anything-ing it
until I started talking myself OUT of going altogether.

What do I know about Motherhood anyway?

Kent asked me how I was going to introduce myself:

"Hi, I'm Dawn. The Momza of seven. Gramma to 4.
My yahoos are the best people on the planet, although
they've made me poor, fat and paranoid."


The first two adjectives are evident. lol The "paranoid" fits so perfectly
because I never know what's going to happen next, thanks to my yahoos.

What do I know about Motherhood?

I've been a mother longer than I haven't been a mother
on this earth.
And that is a long freaking time, people.

I know not to wear silk anymore. Ever.
Or anything that has to be Dry Cleaned Only.
I know to skip the cookie aisle altogether when I have a
cartfull of toddlers,
as well as bribing "The Toy Aisle" as a reward
if they're good while I get the actual groceries I went there for.

I know that teenagers need as much sleep as toddlers,
even when they say they don't,
and the Mom gets the final say on "bed time"--
which saves everyone's sanity--especially Mom's.

I know enough to say "YES" when I mean "YES"
and "No" when "yes" isn't the right or the easy answer.

I can spot a hairy-faker across a room
or across a phone line.
I am not afraid to "fact-check"
sketchy information: "No, Mom, I have no homework."
sketchy friends: "His Mom said we could..[fill in the blank]."
sketchy-anything..."Don't worry Mom, I got this."

I know a real stomach-ache from an "I-have-a-test-this-morning-stomach-ache".
Real tears vs. crocodile tears...pshht. Don't even.
A sincere, "I'm sorry" vs. a "I'll-say-I'm-sorry-so-I-can-get-out-of-this-situation-sorry".

Having a rotten day with a 12 year old?
Keep them home from school and have them work alongside you all day--
doing laundry, grocery shopping, making beds, scrubbing the bathtub...
before you know it,
you're talking to each other without restraint,
laughing and loving again.
Totally works.

Having a rotten day with a 17 year old?
Getting the silent treatment?
Pull them aside, cup their faces in your hands and say:
" I LOVE YOU NO MATTER WHAT."

The words, "I'm sorry." are under-rated, under-used
and some of the most powerful words in the human language.

I know enough to Stand Firm when it involves morals and safety
and when to bend when it doesn't.

I know when to say, "I don't know. Let's find out."
And when to say, "That's not my dog."

Where to hide cookies and christmas gifts, and chocolate for rainy days!

I know to stay up when the teenagers are hoping I'll go to bed early,
so they aren't caught cheating their curfew.

I know that laughter really can keep things in perspective
when things get out of whack and tensions are high.
And common sense is better than most "senses" when it comes to
teaching or correcting my charges...once emotions get involved,
it gets kinda messy.  And nobody likes messy.


I know that Motherhood is a gift from our Creator,
to be His partner in raising children to adulthood
is the greatest calling and privilege afforded us
in this Life.
And He is the truest, most gracious partner one could ask for,
because He understands better than I do,
what's at stake here.
That's what I know.
So far.

Whew. I love being a Mother.

That's why I went to Boulder this morning.
Nana & Jud went with me and got to sit in on the audition
with the producers...
I was pretty nervous, not gonna lie.
But I did it.
I left my comfort zone and shared my truth,
front and center.
And now,
we wait.
Cast will be revealed on Wednesday.



Saturday, February 28, 2015

Listen To Your Mother: Boulder Audition

So.
You know that saying:

Yeah.
So I am.
I mean, I don't do alot of 
"scary" things on a daily basis.
Mostly, 
my goal is to just, 
you know, 
get through the day.

But tomorrow is different.
Tomorrow I am sucking up my fears 
and taking them with me
to Boulder
to audition for a spot in this years'
Listen To Your Mother
show.

I can't even tell you
what got it into my head 
that this is a good idea.
Twelve hours from now,
I will be on the interstate headed north
towards a "Scary" experience
that, as far as I can tell,
is going to be a self-inflicted
rejection
that will sting
far greater than any rejection
from my teenagers,
currently.

What am I sharing?
Well, after hours of reading past blog posts,
contemplating writing a new submission altogether,
I decided to share this one:

Is it worth sharing?
I have no freakin' clue.
But I've tweaked it a bit
here and there,
and to quote someone famous,
"It is what It is."

*actually, I googled the author of that, and it's Unknown, 
altho some guy wrote a book with the title.
{shrug}

OK I'm rambling.
Wish me luck,
Or common sense
to back out.


Friday, February 27, 2015

When Dreams Prompt Goodness



I was in her house
in her kids' room
folding laundry,
specifically,
folding children's pajamas
on their beds.
She stood across from me,
obviously sick.
I smiled an empathetic smile
and kept folding laundry.

That was my dream.
I woke up yesterday morning
fresh from that scene,
wobbled to the bathroom,
came out a moment later,
gathered my robe about my still-slumbery,
bedhead, blurry-headed self
and sat on my bed
pondering what the dream meant.

The woman in the dream
is an acquaintance
I know from church--
and she does have a housefull of littles.
I am not in her inner circle of friends--
her oldest child is just a smidge younger than my 6th (Joseph),
so we are a decade apart in age,
at least.
I'd never been to her house before--
kinda have an idea where it is--
the area, at least.

Mr. W came to my bedside,
kisses good-morning
and I related my dream.

"So, you're gonna call her, hunh?", he says like he knows me.

Scratching my head, I nod. "Yep."

It was still really early--too early--to make that phone call,
so I got busy with getting the kids off to school,
showering, emails, blah blah blah--the stuff I do every morning.

About 10am, a familiar "nudge" came:
"Call her."
I looked up her phone number
and called.
It rang a few times, my heart was racing a little,
these kind of calls always make me nervous because I never know
how the person on the other end of the line
is going to handle this...
I mean, it's fair to say everyone is kind to me under these circumstances,
but it is just
weird.
Not a call one gets often.

Her voice answered,
"Hey, is this Jen?" I asked.
"Ohhh hey Katherine." she answered.
"Actually, this is Dawn [last name]."

Seeing as how the last I called their home was summer 2010,
I think,
she was a bit surprised, but said, "OHhhh, hey Dawn."

"Hey Jen. I'm calling because...well, this is gonna sound weird, yeah, it's sounding weird in my head
but--well, I had a dream about you last night. I was at your house folding kids' laundry because you're not feeling well. So, I'm calling to see if I can help you today?"

She let out a small laugh. "That's so sweet...actually, I've been feeling sick for a few days, but I'm feeling better today. I might actually get something accomplished today. I'm OK."

I persisted. "Jen, I don't dream about your family. Ever."

"I'm actually sitting here folding laundry, as I'm going through stuff the kids have outgrown. haha. That's such a sweet offer. I. don't..I.."

"Jen, can I come over and help? Anything? Run errands for you?--Bring dinner in tonight? Would that help?"

A long pause. A long-freakin-pause.

"C'mon, Jen, let me help", I think.

"I..I would really appreciate that, Dawn." she sighs.

"Great. How 'bout some chili and cornbread? I can bring it around 5 o'clock--will that work?"

She agreed and thanked me before hanging up.

As the day progressed, I went shopping for the ingredients and started preparing my almost-famous-Momza's Psycho Chili, plus cornbread mini-muffins, and a homemade Zucchini Carrot bars with Lemon Cream Cheese frosting--
hey, I'm on the Lord's errand, here so I want it to reflect that..
anyway,
while I'm busy doing all that,
the thoughts that kept floating to the top were:
"Why Me? She has a nice big circle of women whom I know would gladly help her."
"Why Me? Why Today?"
"What is to be learned from this experience?"

As we were boxing the food up to take over--
Joseph went with me because he'd been to her house before and knew the way--
the answers started coming as we drove along the snow-packed streets
from our neighborhood to hers...
"She needs to know I am aware of her."
"You were listening. I knew you would act."
"Help doesn't always come from those we expect it to come from...and that's good."
"I am aware of you too."

I feel humbled that He would trust, does trust,
me to follow my dream.

With Joseph carrying the large box of food dishes and pans,
we walked up to her door and rang the bell.
One of her sons answered the door,
letting us in,
we stood just at the entry
as Jen, weary but smiling,
came to greet us.

She confessed that she really didn't feel good,
hadn't felt good in a week, truly.
And it's realy hard for her to ask for help;
saying she was so grateful for me listening to the Spirit.
I thanked her for letting me serve her, and shared what I learned--
that Heavenly Father is aware of her and He knew I would act.

And that's how we are His hands.
Whether an "impression" on our hearts,
or just acting on an opportunity,
or remembering a dream--
He seeks to bless us in many ways.
"Follow Your Dreams"...
is more than a cliche notion.
At least that's what I'm finding out.
I'm a dreamer.
Always have been, always will be.


Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Ketchup 2015 So far

Walking along the Santa Fe Trail
as it crosses the AFA:
this was January...the high that day was 68o.
In January.
One of the perks of living in Southern Colorado, truly,
is that, while we surely get our share of snow days,
it's also totally normal to get days like this:



A friend whose downsizing, gave me this old German shrunk that she'd brought with her
to the States over 20 years ago.
I didn't take a BEFORE pic, but it was just a dark brown.
We painted it with Annie Sloan chalk paint in Duck Egg and Old White.
Ari's in the midst of changing her room colors from Pink and Purple
to Shabby Chic blue, grey and cream.
She helped paint this and it turned out exactly as she wanted.


I've been trying new recipes.
This dish is my own creation and it is SUPER EASY--
It's just jar Alfredo Garlic Sauce with fresh spinach thrown in, and a can of diced tomatoes (italian-style), some red pepper flakes, minced onion and garlic, poured over farfalle pasta.


This one is Fresh Tomato, Spinach & Garlic Tortellini soup.
I got the recipe from Pinterest of course.
Eight cups of chicken broth
bag of refrigerated tortellin
6 roma tomatos, (Blanched in hot water then cooled in ice water, peel off skin), diced
2 TBS minced garlic
8-10 oz. fresh spinach
1 medium onion, diced
Heat garlic and onions until just soft, in 2 tbs Olive Oil.
Add veggies and broth, to a boil.
Add Tortellini till it floats to the top.
Top with parmesan cheese and a bit of cracked pepper.


I've been staging and un-staging homes already this year, and had some fun and not-so-fun painting projects, to keep me out of trouble.
We're getting ready for the whole HeeHaw Gang to come into town in April and so I've got to get some house projects done in the next month!  I love when the kids come home to visit...they are the best people I know! Seriously, we laugh so hard when we're together!

Hope everyone's enjoying their February!

Monday, February 9, 2015

Little Moments of Normal

What?!
It's already February 
2015?
Oh man.
Life's coming at us so fast lately.
Anyone else feel that way?
I keep having these "Kodak Moments"--
and they get away from me before I know it.
So, here's a photo dump:

Dean and the sister missionaries.
He seriously {loves} sister missionaries.
Whenever he comes to visit,
the first thing he asks is if they're coming over.
We just got Sister Peters (in the yellow) here this transfer--
and it's her LAST one before finishing her mission 
and heads back to her home state of Idaho.
Her companion, Sister Fisher is from Logan, Utah.

Can I just say that I so {love} our sister missionaries?
They come and go, but we truly love the goodness that emanates from them
and the sweet spirit they bring with them into our home.
What a light.
They're so good to Dean...and you know how that just hits my softspot.
~~~
 I've been painting. Alot. Here's one of my recent projects: a simple, pressed board nightstand:



AFTER, in Annie Sloan Duck Egg 1:1 Pure White:




This was the day Baby Ryker was born in November.  Totally spaced I had taken pics of the big day:
My son with his son.  In the category of "BEST DAYS EVER!":


In January, we took Dara back up to BYU-Idaho
and were there for Ryker's blessing:


 It was one of the best road trips we've ever taken! NO kidding. Joseph was in Mexico with the Builders Without Borders of Utah, so it was a car full of girls which, lightly interpreted meant alot of laughter, SINGING with the "Into The Woods" soundtrack, sweats, popcorn, DVDs, and endless conversations.
***
                               Ryker's Big Day...he has quite the heritage.
He was blessed in the first Chapel in Burley, Idaho. The same chapel where his great-grandfather Alma Clark was the Bishop who presided over and opened that chapel.  If you've ever driven down "Steven Street" in Burley, that street was named for Ryker's granpa, Steve Clark.  A little town with a lot of heart and tradition.

 The happy, tired parents. They are so smitten for this little boy.  We all are. After years of infertility, and many many prayers, Heavenly Father sent this sweet, happy guy to us.  He couldn't be more loved. Just isn't possible, really.


And that's it for today.
Life continues.

Monday, January 12, 2015

Growth is Part of the Plan: Bi-Polar Disorder, Health Scares, and Blessings That Came Anyway

I was driving home from somewhere recently
with Nana in the car with me
and we were discussing how last year, 2014, we never did come up with a
family "theme" as in years' past:
"Loathe Is Spoken Here"
"Return With Tacos"
"Remember Who You Are, and Don't Be That Person"
and 2013's:
"We Believe in Bacon".
Nope, we didn't get around to that in 2014.
We talked about it once in awhile, just weren't focused enough I guess.
Too busy to sit around and ponder what in the world we could use to inspire our family to
be better
do better.

So Nana and I were reflecting on the past year and she said,
"I think the theme for 2014 was,
"Grow the Hell Up".
I laughed.
Definitely not a theme we'd have engraved on a wooden plaque
or printed for a frame as other previous family themes.
But man.
Yeah.
2014 was alot of that.
Growing up.
Dealing.
Sucking it up.
Moving forward.
Standing firm.
Kneeling. O heavens, lots of praying.
Prayers for deliverance,
Prayers for exclusion of trials.
Prayers of "o-please-let-this-cup-pass-from-me".

It was one of those years that if you'd told me in January what was ahead of us--
I swear, I'd have run down the street like my hair was on fire.
It was tough.
It wasn't impossible though.
When we looked for it though,
we saw God's hand sustain us often.
Just in the nick of time,
every time.
Deliverance did come.
But not in the ways we prayed for--
blessings came, sighs of relief expressed, lessons learned.
But not without some growth on our part.
Growth is not painless.

In March, our college-loving girl had a medical diagnosis of Bi-Polar Disorder.
Details don't matter, but she needed to come home for some treatment.
Not wanting her to lose her self in the midst of this dark time,
I educated myself and told her that we'd call this experience a
"PLOT TWIST" and help her get back on her feet and back to college.
Counselling, meds, diet changes, rest and lots and lots of patience were expended.

As a mother, it was hard to watch her highs and lows coincide,
crossover,
confuse and
cause chaos in her mind.
Many nights, I lay at the end of her bed,
watching her emotions twist around her like
an angry crocodile in a death roll.
I practiced calmness. Logic and reasoning. Remaining predictable.
My goal was to be as stable as possible for her sake and mine.
When she wanted to run off to live in a different state,
with absolutely no plan--
emotions driving her to run away,
I reminded her of her talents and abilities and goals...
none of which included "running away".
I held on with a hope and prayer that we could get through this "Plot twist";
convincing her that she would not lose this battle.
We would not let her run wild into the world without a tether to who she really is,
what she really wants, and her great potential.

No, we'd hold onto her no matter how much she told us she couldn't breathe,
couldn't cope, couldn't go on... we would make it together.
Because that's how much we believe in her.
One hard night, I had to tell her that while she was free to choose,
I could not, would not,
 support a spontaneous decision she wanted to make.
I supported her decision to go to back to college once she was strong enough to return.
And that was where I believed she would best be able to become the person
she is meant to become.
She wasn't as certain as I was though.
Flash forward to this last week:
we drove her back up to college for the Winter Semester.
For two weeks previous,
she basically undermined that plan
due to her fear of repeating what had happened last year.
She said she felt "anxious", "freaked out", etc. and I told her
that all of those emotions are not unusual.
They're normal, in fact.
They are not particular to people who suffer any kind of mental/physical malady...
it is just part of life and moving on.
It's part of Growing Up!
It's normal to feel nervous about going to college,
about moving out of your parent's home;
especially considering the circumstances she came home in...
and her dad counselled, "If you can't do it, come home and we'll start over again."
So after a preisthood blessing we packed up and headed out last Saturday;
we pulled up to her new apartment,
signed the contract, unpacked her things, offered a prayer in her new place,
and
It was good.  It was better than good.
She & I had a moment in her room alone,
I pulled her cheek to mine and whispered in her ear:
"You got this. Your plot twist hasn't kept you from having a life. You're going to be fine."
She smiled and there was more than a glimmer of hope and courage in her face.
There was victory.

Somehow in our society today,
we have the flawed concept that if something is difficult,
it's not worth the effort.
That things should not be stressful.
LIFE is STRESSFUL.
That doesn't mean it's worthless.
It doesn't mean you're doing it wrong if you're having a hard time.
Sometimes there are challenges that prompt a yell of "PLOT TWIST!"
that requires some adjustment of sails so-to-speak,
but the journey ahead is still worth what it costs.
There is an opportunity cost whether you're sitting still or moving forward--
do not be lulled into complacency or paralyzed into a corner
afraid to move on with plans and dreams for your Life's adventure--
there is a positive energy in being proactive in one's life.
You can hold your own in the face of adversity and that is an accomplishment
you get to own.

Our college girl's trial wasn't the only one.
I wish.
It would've been enough all on its' own
but there were more challenges.

Every month, I worried if it were Dean's last month.
Last Valentines, last Easter, last birthday, last Thanksgiving, last Christmas.
Somehow, for whatever reason, he is still here.
His beautiful blue eyes still twinkle, tho' his mental and speech capacities are diminished,
he still knows me. The Mom.
So much fretting over that one...
he's still here, so we're still growing with him.
I decided that this year will not be a year of Fretting.
It's exhausting. Oh so useless and energy zapping.
I worried over something I have literally no control.
I won't do that to myself again in 2015.
Love with my whole heart, yes.
Fear everyday is the last, no.

There was also a cancer scare for me.
I stood in the shower, alone with my thoughts,
and cried out to God...
if this was His plan for me, then so be it.
I would be OK and trust that somehow He would make everything OK
for my family.
I would allow my self to not only feel peace
but nurture it.
I didn't blog much, but I did go back to my personal journal.

We had a fun summer,
I worked a ton--
I found that everytime I asked for heavenly help, 
I was given more work to do.
It almost became comical.
I was distracted by work and it probably saved my sanity.
There was no time to sit around and mope,
as much as I thought I wanted to.

Fall brought new adventures:

We had the wedding in October--
It was as lovely as could be and a bright spot in the year.

Two of our girls had babies--
I attended our daughter-in-love's labor and delivery
of Baby Ryker in Boise last November.
Unfortunately, I could not get to Saudi Arabia for the birth of
our grand-daughter in December.
She came two weeks early,
and her birth was so precipitous that our daughter, Danielle,
nearly died of hemorrhaging.
Her husband, Mr. Idaho and I spent the night and early morning hours
texting and calling one another until the crisis ended,
and Dani made it through surgery.
We, of course, called every family member and friends to ask for their prayers.
She was thisclose to having a hysterectomy;
the hospital they had to go to was not the International Hospital one
they were registered to deliver at, which was an hour and hour and half's drive--
the Persian Gulf was covered in a dense fog that prevented their assigned driver to be able to
drive that far in time,
so he took them to the closest hospital--where our kids were the only Americans in the whole building.
A visiting Egyptian doctor was called in to perform the hysterectomy because Dani's uterus was bleeding out, after the hour and 23 minute labor and delivery.
Despite it being illegal to be a Christian in that country,
Mr. Idaho gave her a priesthood blessing.
My heart went out to him--here he was unable to speak the language in a native hospital,
with a wife whose life was threatened, all alone.
The Egyptian doctor prescribed two blood transfusions and two plasma transfusions--
and had to manually manipulate her uterus to get it to contract.
The hardest part was realizing I could not have gone to her, because I do not have the official visa from Saudi inviting me into their country.
Hours passed by and thankfully the doctor's treatment was successful.
She is fine now and we are so so so grateful that she is still with us and here to raise her baby girl,
whom she named, "Grace".

And that was the beginning of December.

A long-running trial last year was this:
Mr. Wonderful hit a brick wall, career-wise.
Something needed to change.
2014 sucked the life out of him and we made the decision
for him to return to school for another degree.
It was the best decision. Solid.
So in addition to working his full-time 70 hour a week job,
he is doing online school thru CSU-Global,
also serving in the Denver temple 7 hours a week,
and everything else on his plate.
Lots of growing there!

Lastly, I want to share how we ended the Year with a miracle:
on facebook popped a post from a friend of ours about going to Mexico
with the group, "Builders Without Borders of Utah".
I remembered they'd gone last year too, and the thought came to me,
"I wish Joseph could go. He needs that."
Indeed, he was pretty sure that he has the worst life ever at 15 years old.
2014 was rough for all of us, and I know he was feeling pretty low.
I'd been reading books about adolescent young men, talking to his school counselor
about changing his schedule for January, and whatever else I could do to help him
feel better, do better, be better.
His crummy attitude affected us because he shared negativity like poison candy.
I was looking for answers in many directions.
Going to Mexico sounded like a great experience,
to get him outside of himself, helping others, getting a break from it all
over Christmas sounded too ideal.
Well, I let that thought go right out of me until a couple days later,
as I was standing at the sink doing dishes,
my mind wandered back to our friends' upcoming trip and very clearly,
I heard the Spirit say, "Joseph should go to Mexico. Call Sarah and tell her."
Now, I had no idea when the trip started, how much it cost, or any other detail about it.
In fact, I wondered how it could even happen.
Still, I called Sarah.
She said that while it'd be awesome for Joseph to attend, the actual
registration date was December 1st...and here it was the 11th of December so he had missed it.
Being the awesome cheerleader she is though, encouraged me to contact the person who headed up the organization, giving me their contact information.
I texted that person, (Angie) and left a message.  
A week went by and I had heard nothing back.
I figured she was super busy getting ready for the trip and simply didn't have time to get back to some random person in Colorado to tell me it wasn't possible for my son to go.
I let Sarah know I hadn't heard back, and again she pushed me to contact Angie again.
Just to be sure.
Well, no more than 5 minutes later, I was on the phone with Angie, who said, "Let's make this happen!"
The cost was $400 all inclusive for the trip.
There was still the matter of flying Joseph over to Utah though. On Christmas Day.
I hadn't even bought all of the Christmas presents yet due to financial restraints and wondered how on earth this would be accomplished.
Sarah said to let friends know of this opportunity for Joseph to go to Mexico and build homes for the homeless in Mexico.  So I did.
The next morning, I looked on Southwest air at ticket availability and prices. SOLD OUT.
I used Kayak.com and came across the perfect flight.  It only had 2 seats left though.
And it wasn't cheap.
I sat at the computer wondering what to do.
Should I just bite the bullet and purchase the seat or wait to see if anyone could help?
I said a prayer..."Heavenly Father, help me to choose wisely."
I waited for that familiar feeling of, "DON'T DO IT!" to come--
it didn't come.
SO I CLICKED "PURCHASE".
Then I waited for the feeling of dread and remorse to come, as in "Oh crap! I shouldn't have done that!"
It didn't come.
Instead, I felt calm. Peace. Approval.
Within minutes, no more than ten, a dear friend from Church contacted me and said she wanted to pay for Joseph's airline ticket! I accepted her offer with a full heart of gratitude.
Other friends and family also sent in donations and before we knew it, Joseph was on his way to Utah on Christmas morning.
I know that God's hand was in this experience for my son.
The first night in Tijuana, there was a difference in his voice as he said,
 "I'm so happy I came, Mom."

He gained perspective about his life. His abilities. He was humbled and lifted. The people he served expressed their gratitude so deeply--one woman walked 7 blocks everyday to bring drinks to those working on her house--even though it was evident that was a tremendous sacrifice for her.
One man offered his bike, his only transportation to Joseph in exchange for the roof Joseph helped put on his house.  Joseph went to a local orphanage one afternoon and played soccer with the kids there.  He went out with the local missionaries there to visit and serve people on Sunday.  IN all, the organization built 13 houses, 5 other buildings, hundreds of quilts were made and given, over 100 bikes were donated to the community, and other gifts such as soccer balls, baby dolls, coloring books and crayons, ties and shirts for the men, bags for the young women, etc.
Joseph wants to return next year.  We all want to go too.
The year ended in a miracle. A meaningful, life-changing miracle.

SO yes, 2014 was a hard one. We made it though. We were not alone in our trials.
Here's to 2015...may we bloom with what we've been blessed to learn.
We were never meant to stay still, but rather stay in motion.
Moving forward, gathering goodness as we go.


We're ready for 2015. We've expanded our faith, our vision, our abilities, and our determination to Embark on a Meaningful Journey.











Monday, December 15, 2014

Grace

Her name is 
Grace Estelle.
Gracie.



Birth Story is a nothing short of a miracle.
Like God's grace.
Details coming soon.
IN the meanwhile,
let's just say we are grateful for this tiniest bundle.


Sacred Granddaughter #1

This is the newest little grace from heaven:
Born 12/14/14
in Saudi Arabia
to our sweet Danielle and Mr. Idaho.
6.8lbs.

No name yet...
but we're in love.
Oh man.
We are in love!

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

A Birth Story: Ryker Scott




See this little visitor from heaven?
He's the newest yahoo in our family.
Born to my oldest son David Scott and his beautiful wife, Tisha
in Boise, Idaho.
This is his birth story:

I get the privilege of being invited to attend births as a doula and always always enjoy those exciting, wondrous births--each birth is a complete miracle--but you can imagine my delight at being at the birth of a grandchild! Oh man, it is just the BEST thing ever!
I was especially grateful to be invited by my daughter-in-love, Tisha to attend her labor and delivery of this very-much-prayed-for-child last month.
The due date was originally Halloween--but it came and went like most first baby due dates go and rather than wait for him to be born and go, I decided to just book the trip and {crossing my fingers}
I'd make it for the birth or at least be there to help if he came before I got there!  {Babies are so tricky!}
So I booked the flight and got to spend a couple of days with our sweet kids before they became parents for the first time.

I arrived on Saturday, it was actually Tisha's birthday and we went to a fun little restaurant, Bardenay, in downtown Boise. The weather was great--hard to believe it was November! {A change was coming though as they got record snowfall on Thursday & Friday of that coming week.}  We made a run to Trader Joe's and Whole Foods and drove around the tree-lined ,fall-colored city streets and then headed to their home in Kuna.
Sunday we went to Church--where our sweet Tisha endured many many many many exclamations of "You're STILL pregnant?"  "Aren't you DUE?"  "Are you ever having that baby?"  Tisha just smiled through it all like a Champ.  
Later that day, we went along the riverwalk and took some pictures:


Aren't they so....I don't know. Just lovely.
My son has been so blessed with this sweet woman at his side. We love them both so much.
And they've been so so ready for this baby to come to their home...they've been patiently trying to become parents for years.
Many prayers went heavenward for them.
I can't even tell you how many prayers have been offered, how my own heart has pleaded for their cause. It has been a long journey. to say the least.

So we just enjoyed each other--David Scott and I stayed up way too late in the evenings to catch-up--I haven't had him all to myself since before he got married nearly 7 years ago...and it was so fun! I laughed so hard, I hurt! He is the funniest person I know.  We stayed up talking and sharing music, youtube videos, scriptures, goals, all of it--one topic segueing into another until exhaustion crept in and we had to go to bed.

Tuesday morning we went with Tisha to her last doctor's appt. He placed a foley catheter to get her cervix opened.  I'd only barely heard of a foley catheter and holy smokes! was it great for Tisha!
Worked like a charm.
When we showed up Wednesday morning for the full-induction, she was already 6cm dilated!
We arrived at 6:07am and got started...St. Luke's Regional Medical Center is awesome! It's where I got my training as a Doula years ago--it's a progressive hospital and it shows! The care is evident and the technology is so so spot on for patients.
So while we waited for labor to really get going, we all took turns guessing Baby Boy's weight:
Dr. W: 7.8 oz.
Nurse Natasha: 9.0
David Scott: 8.2
Tisha: 8.5
Gramza: 8.11
Nurse Noreen: 9.2
~~
Around 8:30, Dr. W decided to break waters..it was clear--n' that's always good.
About an hour later, Tisha made the executive decision to get an Epidural ASAP.
Once that was done, I decided to ask the almost-parents a few questions for Baby Ryker;
"What do you want to teach Ryker someday?"
David Scott: "How to field strip an AR-15." {laughs}
"--to love music"  "that we love him no matter what" "to love education & learning" "to love to learn about other cultures".
Most of the time was spent laughing--David Scott scored big time when he married someone who loves to laugh at his humor.

Around 2:15pm Tisha could feel the baby moving down and lots of pressure--which is always a good thing! The Epidural wasn't cutting it, so fortunately for Tisha, the Anesthesiologist on call, was a friend from church--so he got right in and gave her another med that kicked in and did the trick.

About then we all started making guesstimates of what time Baby Ryker would deliver:
Tisha: 3:55pm
David Scott: 4:30pm
Gramza: 5:00pm

First babies can take some time making their way down the birth canal--Tisha was always composed and smiling. I haveta say, she was a model patient. She did all that was suggested to help her body get through labor and delivery, with a smile on her face.  Her only request was pillows. Lots n lots of pillows--probably 6-9--under each shoulder, neck, back and legs...looking like she was laying in a bed of marshmallows.

As the end of her birthing experience was nearing, I wrote down in my doula journal:
"I am reminded of the day David Scott was born: that was a long, hard birth...and here I am, at his wife's side as their firstborn comes into world. Amazing."

Life gives me little gifts once in awhile.  Is it like that for everyone?, I wonder.  these little graces that flow from heaven, sent to wash over us with joy and peace...sometimes we don't see them coming, you know? But they come...and man, does it feel wonderful to witness a miracle. To see that life really is a circle of events that connect us to each other and to Heavenly Father.

So finally it was time to PUSH! My favorite part of labor IS the delivery!
I let our girl know that, while it's common for nurses and doctors to "count" thru the pushing contractions, I've learned that it's not what's best for ME to do as the doula--I whisper in her ear, encouragements to breathe, to relax her face, to let her jaw relax, to focus on where/how to push.
I do not "count"...I support.
That's how it went--David Scott counted and Nurse Noreen counted--I whispered, supported, wiped a warm brow and beck with a cool cloth, and held a leg...we only had to do that for an hour and a half and before we knew it, little boy was born!

The cord was looped around his little neck and under his arm, but once that was taken care of, he let out a nice cry and had a story to tell! SO cute! What was so so cute was Tisha's reaction to it all: she just giggled and laughed--which if you knew Tisha, is exactly a very "Tisha" thing to do.  While David Scott and I got a bit choked up, Tisha just beamed with joy!!
The most beautiful look in the world is that kind of joy in a new mother's face...it is incomparable.
Time of Birth: 5;23pm,  Wgt.: 9lbs. 2oz. {thanks, Jen!}

So here's the latest of our newest joy:

Isn't he just delicious?
Welcome to the world, little Rykes...we've been waiting for you!

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Salt Lake Temple Wedding Pics







 The whole gang minus Dean: Tisha, David Scott, Joseph, Diana, Judson, Dara, Arianna, Dani (several mos. pg) & Isaac, and Garrett & Brad.
With the newlyweds in the middle, and Kent & I on the sides, we are flanked by "our" missionaries, 
L: Eric & Sarah R: Michael & Stacy



Back row: Sil Jennah, Cousin Abi, Fmr Mission Comp Kaitlyn, SIL Colby, FMC Taila, SIL Tisha
Front row: Dani, Ari, Dara, the Bride Diana, FMC Julia, FMC Joyce, SIL Laura


me & my girl