growing up

Last week, I was sick with the flu.  Bleck.  At the end of a long day, I knew I had to get the kids ready for bed and tuck them in.  As I was about to put Eliza to bed, Corbin said, "Mom I'll put Eliza to bed for you."  So I decided to take him up on it.  But I was so curious as to how this interaction would play out, that I stayed in the living room so I could listen.  He took her into her room and read her a book.  Then I heard him say, "Eliza you need to say your prayers."  So she did.  Then, "Ok Eliza, you can talk to your animals, but you have to do it QUIETLY."  I ran down the hall back to my room before he came out so that he wouldn't think I was watching them.

Corbin came in and said he put her to bed.  I told him that he needed to go to bed.  A few minutes later, I heard a lot of commotion going on in the living room.  I went out to check on him (because he was suppose to be going to bed).  He was CLEANING UP.  Innocently, I asked, "Hey bud, whatcha doing?"  He replied, "I'm cleaning up because you're sick and it's a mess in here."  My heart melted, and tears came into my eyes.

My little boy is growing up.   He's thinking of others before himself.  I am a proud mama.

seeing myself

A few days ago, I took Eliza to see the show "cascade christmas" at the Cascade theater.  I was transported back in time to when my mom used to take me to see the Shasta High musical every year.  I absolutely loved it.  It's where my love for music and theater began.  I knew that someday I too would be on stage.

Liz was so precious.  She watched every second, and loved it.  She can't wait to be able to do things like that someday.  Just like me, she is shy and so while being on stage is intriguing it is also terrifying.  But it's when we get over our fears so we can do something we love, that we can begin to enjoy life more fully.

thanksgiving....a week late

Now that Thanksgiving is over and my family is coming out of the flu infested weekend, I feel the need to express my gratitude for all that I have.

I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be as blessed as I am.  Ok...I did dream wildly about it, but never thought it would actually happen.  I have so much to be thankful for.  When I start to think about it, the blessings are so abudant that I couldn't possibly list them all, but here are a few.

• I am married to my favorite person in the world.  How many people can say that?
• My three children are quite possibly the cutest kids on the planet. Not to mention the smartest and sweetest and funniest and greatest and most talented and...
• Quinn has a job.  And not just a job, but one that he likes and one that supports our family and helps us live comfortably.
• My healthy body. My family is healthy. 
• I have a testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ. 
• Quinn is a worthy priesthood holder and leads our family righteously.
• I have amazing friends that I consider family.
• I live in one of the most beautiful places on earth.  Somewhere I could happily live forever.
• All the things that I often take for granted, that so many do not have; a beautiful home, a comfortable bed, an abundance of food to eat, clothing to wear, a warm shower...

Many, many more come to mind.  But I must go take care of those cute, talented, smart children.

a day of rest

The Sabbath is suppose to be a day of rest.  Mine usually is not.  Sometimes they are more work than any other day of the week. 

I'm not sure why, but it seems the kids are grumpier on Sundays.  In turn, I am grumpier.  I don't want to be.  I don't want to lose my patience on the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th time to take a child out of sacrament meeting.  I don't want to lose my cool, when my 5  year old blatently disobeys.  I don't want to feel frustrated when another child tells me he thinks he's going to throw up while we're sitting in the church pew. I don't want to angrily take away the new birthday toys of a strong willed child, throwing a fit.

But I did all those things today.

It's not that I had to walk in and out of the chapel 5 times, or discipline a disobedient child, or nurse a sick baby that leaves me feeling defeated at the end of the day.  It's the disappointment in myself that I did not combat these things with compassion and love.  Instead I let annoyance and anger take over.  And for that I am ashamed.

At the end of the day I want my children to feel loved.  So I took some time to cool off.  I went to lay down with Lu who had been banished to her bed for the night.  Told her I loved her, kissed her goodnight, and vowed to have a better day tomorrow.

quiet moments

What do you think about in your quiet moments?

In my quiet moments when Quinn is gone and the kids are in bed and the TV is off, I think of the same thing, over and over.  Like a broken record.  I try and think about other things, but it always comes back to the same thoughts.  I keep repeating in my head the thoughts of struggles past, my previous life, my childhood.  I can't shake the spiteful words from people I love aimed directly to hurt other people I love.  Shot at one another as if  words could piece their hearts.  And they can, and they did.  Only it's as if their sights we mis-aligned and hit me.  I'm not sure that they ever made it to their true targets, but hitting innocent by-standers on the way.  As if shooting a bear would give you venison.

If I am ever to heal these wounds, forgiveness has to come into my heart.  Only through the Atonement of Jesus Christ can true healing occur.  I know this.  I understand this principle.  I have taught it to others.  Somehow I must learn to apply it to myself.

no voice

My voice left me today.  I have wisper voice, or strange scratchy, squeaking voice.  Neither of which do me much good.  Eliza says, "Mom, you need to talk like a real mom."  Good Idea.  I guess it's better than the other day when I was not feeling well, she said, "Why are you acting like a sleepy mom?"  I guess I haven't been the best mom lately.  I need to work on that.

The good thing about my voice being gone is that I can't answer every little question the little ones have.  It's not that I don't want to answer their questions, but sometimes, I answer so readily that they don't figure things out for themselves.  It makes them think a little more. 

I do miss talking to Sol.  He makes me smile when he jabbers. A sure way to get him going is to ask him questions.  But without questions being asked his voice is gone too.  And that makes me sad. 

Tomorrow will be a new day, and hopefully it will bring with it my voice.

seven

Cobin is 7! SEVEN!  How did this happen?  Where has the time gone?  Where is my "buddy" who needs his "farfar" and "bee". He is too tall, too big, too smart, too grownup.  Where is the "stop time" button when one needs one? 

I took him out of school early today, just for fun.  In two and a half years he has missed one day of school.  It was time for a much deserved break.  I always loved getting picked up early from school.  Like I was special.  I got to do something that day that no one else did.  I hope he feels that way today.

Happy Birthday Corbin!

an attitude of gratitude

I slept on the bathroom floor again last night. It's getting old. I don't like it. Not one bit. So I broke down and picked up the prescription for a new anti-anxiety medication. Actually it's an anti-depressant. But apparently they use the same drugs to treat two very different problems. Weird. But if it works, I don't really care. I am just sick and tired of being sick all the time.

Complain, complain, complain.....I get annoyed with myself when my pity party gets too big. I really have no complaints. Not really. Oh except for being sick all the time. Did I mention that already??

So I am resolved to take President Monson's advice and have "an attitude of gratitude". I will start now.

I am grateful for:
A husband that loves me even when I am sick
Children that love me and forgive me for my imperfections
Kisses and hugs (especially from those adorable children)
A beautiful home
Amazing friends
The Gospel of Jesus Christ, His ministry, His atonement, His love
Service...clarity and perspective returns when I am serving others
A comfortable bed
And SO much more...

a clean home is a happy home

Last night I had a much needed girls night. Alicia had the gals over to watch chick flick. One that the husbands don't want to watch. It was lovely. Ladies watching romance, without worrying wether the men are bored.

I left Q with a messy house, kids to get ready for bed and dinner to clean up. Poor guy. When I got home, The great room was immaculate! Floor vaccuumed, toys picked up, kitchen clean, kids in bed. It was heavenly. Thank you Quinn.

At first I thought he had done it for me. But then I got to thinking about the fact that Q's boss was picking him up for work early in the morning, and he probably didn't want to be embarrassed by the state of the house. Of course I immediately felt a sense of guilt, that I had left such a mess and Q had to clean it by himself after a full day of work. Damn guilt. It ruins everything.

And then this morning, I got to relive the loveliness of a clean house again. Oh, how I love to wake up to a clean house.

I'm not sure how I got such a fabulous husband. But, I'll take him.

wandering minds

My mind likes to wander. Sometimes it daydreams of sunny beaches and grand adventures to interesting places. But too often it wanders to the "what ifs" in my life. What if our house burned to the ground? What if Quinn lost his job? What if we were in a horrible car accident?

The other day while taking Eliza to school, my mind wandered into What If land. What would I do if suddenly Quinn died? Who would I call first? How could I possibly tell our children, or his parents? How would I react? Would I be strong for my children, or would I crumble to the ground and not be able to move until the pain subsided, which would be never, so there I would stay, in a ball on the ground forever? On and on this continues in my mind, while tears stream down my face. Over something that hasn't even happened. But my fear is so strong, it feels real. Finally I chastize myself, and shake my head, and sniff up my tears. I have to pull it together before I get to preschool. What will I say when someone asks what is wrong? "Nothing, I was just thinking about my dead husband, who is not actually dead, but very live and well." That makes perfect sense.

And again, a few nights ago, I worked on painting Eliza's bedroom until about midnight. I left the windows wide open in her room to help air out and dry the paint. I shut the door and then locked it (the lock is on the hall side of the door....which is a great story for another time). The act of locking the door from the outside starts a strain of thoughts I cannot control. Why would I lock the door? So if a robber came through the open window they wouldn't be able to get through to the rest of the house. As I lay in bed, desperately trying to sleep, knowing morning would come all too soon, my mind strayed again. What would I do if I heard that robber in Eliza's room?! First I decided I would wake Quinn, grab Eliza and lock ourselves in Corbin & Sol's room so at least we would all be together. But wait, if I could make it to the boy's room, why not wake the kids and run out of the house? Ok, yes, that's what I'll do. Run where? To the neighbor's? No, probably around the corner up to the Crawfords, because we could find help and comfort there. Oh, but wait, don't forget the cell phone so we can call the police on the way! What if we didn't all make it out? On, and on, and on until finally I have to get up and take a Xanax at 1:00 in the morning, even though I know it will make me groggy in the morning.

Does everyone do this, or is it just me? Or maybe it's a Mom thing, kinda like the worry and the guilt?

I do find comfort in one thing. Even if all these bad things or other terrible things happened to us, I know that my family is Eternal. That if we get separated in this life, that we will be together in the next. That Jesus Christ has paved a way for my family to overcome death and separation. That through his miraculous resserection, we too can live again. Time and time again, this is what pulls me pack to reality, helping me know there is no reason to fear.

happy 31 to me

Today is my birthday. 31.

Bright and early I received a call from my brothers. Reese and Todd were on their way to their Colorado hunting trip (a past time I will never understand why they enjoy) so they called to wish me Happy Birthday before they went out of cell phone range.

It was Todd on the phone. I miss him. A lot. When I think about it, it makes me ache. Todd was my sibling I was closest to as a child. Not necessarily in age, but in spirit and connection. He would let me tag along everywhere. Even when we were teenagers, he would invite me to go places and hang out with him and his friends. For a time, Todd and I lived with Mom by ourselves. Maybe that's why I felt closer to him than everyone else. We had many times when we were each other's only companions.

Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if my family was more like Q's family. What if my parents still loved each other? What if there had been no divorce? What if we were one happy family? Deep in the bottom of my soul, I wish this was the truth. But it is not. And when I do think of it, my guilt seeps in. I seem to have a lot of that; guilt. Because I do love my family how it is. I love my sister and younger brothers and step parents. I know that I wouldn't have them if things were different. But I can't help myself sometimes. When I want what I'll never have.

So when I hung up the phone, after a big Happy Birthday shout from Reese, I cried. Silent, but very real, tears.

Labor Day

We live in the most amazing place. I will be completely content if I live here forever. We chose a family bike ride to celebrate the holiday that is Labor Day. Q pulled the trailer with Eliza and Sol, Corbin rode and I too rode my bike that has seen more use in the last 6 months than in the previous 11 years since Q enthusiastically bought it for me. Poor guy. I am certain he thought I would liken to his hobby of mountain biking. But it quickly became evident I am not suited for riding a bike up and down a mountain. But today yeilded itself to slow riding on a paved trail along side the incredible Sacramento River.

We forgot our helmets. Had this been 20 years ago, it would not a have even crossed my mind to be concerned about this. Ahh...but we live in 2010 and those that do not have protective headgear for their children riding bicycles are looked down upon. Borderline child neglect or endangerment. "Don't they know that it's not safe to have their child riding without a helmet?" Well at least this is how it seems to me. I felt as though everyone was thinking this as we happily rode past. Probably mostly in my imagination, but still the guilt riddles me.

Lack of helmets aside, it was a very enjoyable morning. Beautiful weather, beautiful scenery, beautiful family.

Happy Day.

Lizzy LuLu

Have I told you about Eliza? My Lizzy LuLu?


Four year old Eliza is beautiful. She only likes "pretty" things. I am occasionally asked why I wear pants, because they are not pretty. Pink, piNK PInk, PiNk, don't forget PINK! Girls are the only creatures that deserve her time. (Unless it's Grandpa. She loves Grandpa, and Sol, and Corbin and Dad. Although she tries to hide her affections from Quinn, but inside she's loving him. She talks about him a lot when he's gone. "Mom, where's dad?" Even though she really does know where he is.) Liz loves animals. Most of her toys that she loves are stuffed animals. She plays with them, talks to them, sleeps with them.

Lizzy is an artist. I am amazed at how well she can express herself through art. She can sit down at the table and color for hours. Quinn talks about how he can't wait to see how her talents develops as she gets older.

She is very shy. Painfully shy around adults. It takes her a very long time to warm up to adults, even those she sees frequently. She is very perceptive. She notices things that I don't realize she is aware of, until she talks about it.

"Mom, what's that smell like?" This is a common phrase, repeated many times each day. Liz has the most sensitive smelling mechanism I have ever encountered. "When will my nose stop smelling?" I feel bad when I have to tell her; Never. I fear for her when someday she is pregnant.

Eliza is my "special girl" and I am her "special girl too" and instead of hugs, she gives "love" because "love is longer".

a little about me - 1st pharm tech assignment

Like most people, my life is broken into different parts. Childhood and adulthood. Pre-marriage and after matrimony. Life before children and life during parenthood. As a working woman and as a stay-at-home-mom. So rather than fight it, I'll write within the “parts” of my existence.

Childhood was...challenging, fun, happy and sad. Living out two lives, one with my father's family and one with my mother's family, gave me many opportunities to try and figure out who I was. Learning to be me, was hard. For many years I was one person at Mom's and a different person at Dad's.

Living on a working Apple Ranch in Round Mountain, CA my dad taught me the value of work. From a young age, working in the orchards was expected, and for the most part enjoyed. My dad remarried when I was five, and I inherited a new sister and step-mother. And then a few years later, along came three more brothers, bringing our Brady Bunch family to a total of 7 children; five boys and two girls. Blending us all together to try and make a happy family was...challenging. At times it worked, and we felt united, at other times it was disastrous. Spending 2nd through 5th grade living with my father's family was both rewarding and exhausting.

Upon entering middle school, I transferred homes to live with my mother, in Redding, CA. Here I too learned different lessons that helped shape me into who I am. I went from a tiny mountain community school of 20 per grade, to a large middle school of 300 per grade. Where did I fit in? My mother encouraged me to participate in music and sports, which led to making new friends and soon, enjoying my new independence. For the most part I was now an “only child” (except for when my two older brothers joined me on the weekends and when I spent other weekends and holidays with my dad), which was a far cry from being the middle child of 7. I continued to participate in as many activities as I could; choir, basketball, track and field, and student government were among my favorites. Nearing the end of my middle school years, my mother remarried, along with my new step-father I gained another step brother and sister. Unfortunately it was a union that I did not adjust to well. Through the end of my middle school years and through high school I learned that school was my solace. It was where I could escape. I piled on more activities and sports and learned to spend a lot of time with friends. On the weekends I spent with my father, I worked at the movie theater our family owned in Fall River Mills. I learned to be resilient and independent. I learned to make the best of an unpleasant situation and focus on the good in my life. After a little experimentation I quickly learned, that faith in God and hard work, was a better recipe for changing my circumstances than parties and drugs. My mother divorced her second husband. End of sob story.

I graduated from high school and spent a year at Shasta College taking a little of this and that, not knowing what I wanted to do or become. I spent a lot of time at school, working various jobs (restaurant, elderly care and childcare) and spending time with my friends, most of whom I met through church and the Institute of Religion near the college. Shortly after starting college I was introduced to an amazing man. We began courting. Even though he lived in Arizona where he attended Arizona State University, we managed a long distance relationship.

At 18 years old, I married Quinn Lowry and moved with him to Arizona where we both attended school. I attended Mesa Community College and he continued at ASU. Finally my life was quiet. My husband and I could live how we believed with out the “noise” of my childhood. Moving a far distance from my childhood family gave me time to focus on my new little family. I worked during the day as an office manager for an architecture firm in Scottsdale, AZ and went to school at night. On Sundays I taught Sunday School lessons young children at church. After about two years in the Phoenix area, Quinn graduated, and we moved to Salt Lake City, UT where he was accepted into the University of Utah's Graduate School of Architecture. We lived on campus in the old, run-down married student housing. We both searched for work and I soon found a fantastic job at the University of Utah Hospital where I worked as the Executive Secretary for the Operating Room Department. Doing payroll, HR, organizing events and getting to know the 130 employees in our department was a treat. I also enjoyed being in the hospital environment working with all different people with one common purpose; to provide excellent care to each and every patient. Along with working at the UofU I taught lessons to the Relief Society (women's organization) once a month at church. I also enrolled in community based classes, taking guitar lessons, floral arrangement and cake decorating. We had decided that because we were now living in a new state and paying out of state tuition, that I would put my schooling on hold while Quinn finished his masters degree. We grew to love the Salt Lake Valley and all the other couples and families that lived in student housing with us.

Two years past and we left Salt Lake City and headed home to Redding, CA. Having spent several years away from my family, I learned to value them and appreciate the many good and meaningful things my parents taught me. While I always knew I loved them and maintained a good relationship, I now was ready to accept them back into my life in a more accessible way. I wanted to live near them, and raise my children where they could know and love their grandparents.

Quinn went back to work for the architecture firm in town that he had worked for on summer breaks from college before we were married. I found a great job working for as the Department Secretary in Redding Medical Center's Cardiac Rehab Department. After being there for several months, the hospital, and the Cardiac Department in particular, started having difficulties. Cutbacks were made and hours reduced. To help keep up my hours, I began assisting the director of the then newly implemented Bariatric Surgery Department at RMC. After being back in Redding for a short time, we found ourselves buying a home to accommodate our growing family. However, the hospital needed to make more cut backs and I was laid off from my positions at Redding Medical Center. Even though my plan was to work through my pregnancy, I was still able to keep busy by helping teach, plan, and supervise activities with the Young Women (12-18 year old girls) in our church. Our first baby boy (Corbin) was born and I quickly became a stay-at-home-mom. I enjoyed this very much.

I was now changing diapers, going to the park, watching Elmo, teaching children to walk, and practicing so many other aspects of motherhood. I always enjoyed being at home with my children (now 3 of them: Corbin, Eliza, Solomon), but I still wanted to help earn extra income for our family. Over the years I have become a chameleon, changing my job for what would allow me flexibility of working and still taking care of my children full time. I have taught English/Writing Skills to home-schooled children through Modoc Charter School. I became a home based customer service operator for major companies like ShopNBC and TimeLIFE. Working the night shift at Kohl's department store placing signage was fine until I wore out with exhaustion from working all night and taking care of my kids during the day. There were even times that I worked from home through the internet for Lionbridge rating websites for search engines. I also ventured into entrepreneurship opening my own web-based clothing business. After 2 ½ years I closed the store to try to look for something more consistent.

As if I wasn't busy enough with raising children and working part time, I changed positions in church now working with the Relief Society again, but as the secretary and then later a Counselor (similar to a Vice president) to the President of the organization. Once my children entered school, I also felt a need to participate in their education by volunteering once a week in the classroom. To fulfill a longtime dream of living in a home that my husband designed, I oversaw and managed the construction of a beautiful new home for our family.

With my children growing older and the economy being uncertain, I feel once again that it is important for me to continue my education so I can be more marketable in the career world. I have extremely enjoyed working in the hospital setting in previous employment and would like to become a hospital pharmacy tech. With my family always being my first and most important aspect of my life, I am hoping to work part time until my children are older. I am hoping that because I want to work the “off hours” (evenings and weekends) so I can be at home with my children during the week, I will be able to fill a void where most most people do not want to work.

It is amazing where life takes us. How are decisions can be and are our own. I am constantly amazed at where my decisions have taken me and am excited to find out where I will go next. I have grown to love life more fully as I grow wiser with age. I attribute my happiness to a good sense of self, a devoted husband, a great family and a loving God.

busy-ness

What a weekend! I started school, the kids had their first soccer games, Becky and the kids came to visit, a trip to the ER with Sol after I slammed his foot in the van door (I still have much guilt, but thankfully it's not broken), dinner with good friends, and Quinn was called to be a counselor in the bishopric of our ward. Which also means he will be ordained a high priest. All of these things (aside from the ER trip) were good productive things.

Quinn is worried about being in the bishopric. I think he will do great. Isn't it funny how we always doubt ourselves, but can see all the good in others? He's wonders why he was called when there are so many other people in the ward that could fill that position. But he is a good man, trying hard to do what is right. He has a testimony of the gospel. Isn't that what matters? The only thing I worry about is having 3 kids by myself in Sacrament meeting, while Quinn watches from the stand. Hmmm...maybe I can get a young woman to sit with us. The kids love Adalie. I think I'll ask her.

It seems like every minute of every day is filling up. I'd better get to it.

the world goes round

I am here. The world is still going round, and I am not the center of it. I suppose I knew it would, but sometimes I get caught up in what I am doing, not doing, missing, etc. I started my first day of school. And without me, Corbin and Eliza both had their first soccer games of the season (Eliza's being her first game of all time!). Quinn should get the soccer dad award with two soccer games with the players and a toddler in tow. He even brought the team snack. Without complaint. He really is an amazing father. I looked at the clock and sent a little good luck wish to each of them when then their games started, as I sat in a sterile classroom with 22 other students who were missing their own "soccer games".

The professor let us out early so I got to come home and spend the afternoon with my family! For that I am truly grateful.

meet & greet

Today was meet and greet (the teacher) at Corbin's school. I can hardly believe he is in the 2nd grade. How did this happen? How did he get to be so tall, and how at not quite 7 years old, is his foot almost as big as mine? Probably because he eats constantly, yet he is so slim. Why can't I have that kind of matabolism?

10 things to know about 6 year old Corbin...

10. He is a Hotwheels fanatic
9. He is a die-hard rule follower
8. His voice has two volume levels: Loud and Extremely loud
7. Corbin is the youngest in his grade, but academically resides at the top (SO SMART!)
6. Is a wonderful big brother, so helpful!
5. Knows all superheroes names, powers and costumes, but Batman is his favorite
4. Has a generous heart
3. Is a devoted friend
2. Cannot sit still for even 5 seconds
1. Is a sweet boy, who always tries to do what is right

Just a few of the countless reasons he fills my heart with joy.

don't scare me

For a brief moment today, I thought Sol was lost. I thought he was with Q and, he thought I knew Sol was outside. After we circled the house and could not find our 21 month old son, I started to panic. Turns out he was in his sister's room with the door shut.

I can't get that panic feeling out of my heart. My mind knows that he his safe, but part of me still has that panic inside. I suppose I always have a little of that inside me. That's what mother's do, we worry. I now appreciate or at least understand why my mother worried all the time. She made us wear bike helmets long before it was the norm. I have inhereted this from her. A gene that passed on to make me a worry stricken parent. I know I should relax but, I can't. The worry is part of me.

My children are everything. Without my family I would be lost. I get glimpses of what the love of Christ is like when I feel how much I love my children. The life giving kind of love.

12 years

Q and I had our 12 year wedding anniversary on Friday. 12 years. Wow. It doesn't seem like that long, yet when I think about all that has happened since we've been married, I am amazed. Lived in 3 states, 4 years of college, 3 beautiful kids, owned 2 houses, etc, etc.

I really could not imagine myself married to anyone else. I have often thought about what it would be like to be married to one of my old boyfriends. All I can say is that when I do think about it, I get a little shiver and thank God for my husband. He is amazing. The funny thing is that I never grow tired of him. I always want to be with him and always want to have him around.

We never make a big deal of our anniversary. But the kids spent the night at Granna and Grandpa Mac's house and we went to dinner and then came home. No presents, not this year, our pocketbook doesn't support them. But I don't need anything, I have everything I need; love. Cheesy I know, but true.

Happy birthday Quinn. I love you.

great day

Today was a great day.


We sat with Liz and Corbin and showed them our wedding album. We talked about how they weren't there because they were still in Heaven. Yes, Brooklyn and Kenzie (cousins - whose mom was in our pictures) were there with you too. It was great to show them everyone 12 years ago. Yes, mom and dad were a little thinner then. No it's not icky that mom and dad are kissing.

Next scriptures, family prayer and bedtime routine. After the big kids woke up their sleeping brother with their loud stomps, talking and slamming of bathroom drawers we had a physical exercise of how to be quiet. "Corbin, show me how to close the drawer quitely." "Lizzy, show me how to walk quietly down the hall"...etc, etc. They thought it was funny.

Later Q and I were laying close in bed. Q asks if I will still love him when he is completely broken. Of course, I say. Will you still love me when I wear grandma shoes at age 35 because my bunions hurt so bad and have a hunchback from my lazy shoulder. He replies, "I get turned on just thinking about it." Ha Ha. But seriously, I will, and he will and that is true love.

But I guess we were lying a little too close because I started pointing out his long eyebrow hairs and he said, 'will you still love me with bushy eyebrows and ear hair?" I love bushy eyebrows and earhair. "Oh yes," he says, "because you see ear hair and think 'that is hot' ". Much laughter follows. And then one more, "I'm sorry I'm not who you thought you married." What do you mean? "I don't look the same as the wedding pictures." And then we laugh some more. Because neither of us look like we did in our wedding pictures. But in reality I don't notice the ear hair, I love the gray hair and all I see is the man I fell in love with. And I love him more now than I did that day in those pictures.

Sol

Let me tell you about Solomon. Sol-Sol, Solly, Sol, Solomon. He is so sweet. And handsome. And makes me smile.

I can hardly remember life before my children, and Sol is no exception. His cute little toddler walk, his "chinese" jabber, is funny faces (squeeze eyes shut) and how he gets so excited.

He loves his daddy. A lot. He lights up whenever we talk about Da-Da. He is sad if he can't find him, mostly because dad is at work. He likes to bring dad his shoes when he is getting ready for work. He loves to climb on Q and push his nose and lift up his shirt and squish Q's belly.

He is the only 1 year old I have had that gives closed mouth kisses, which I am grateful for.

Sol is such a happy boy. He plays and plays and then will come for a quick hug or hold and then run off to play some more.

There is so much I love about Sol. He makes me smile just looking at him. He is a joy in our family.

I am blessed to have been given the opportunity to love and teach and help him grow.

contentment

Here I go again...in my happy place (zumba) and yet all I can think about is how I wish I were somewhere else. I feel like life is stagnant. I yearn to be everywhere I am not. Why is that? When my life is so good?

I think I will try and do something creative today. Something that is not laundry or cleaning or picking up toys. Elder Uchtdorf gave a talk to about creating something and how it makes of feel purpose. I have been longing to paint Lulu's room. I will start today.

I want to be happy where I am. I am happy, but sometimes bouts of doubt creep in and haunt me for days until I can push them out again.

So I will blow my nose and get to work.

hopeful

Today is going to be a good day. I can feel it. I did something that I have not done in many years. Upon waking, I knelt in prayer at my bedside. Oh, I often pray throughout the day, but it has been many years since I said my morning prayers. It did as everyone says it does, it set the tone for the day. A hopeful tone. A humble pleading to help me be better than I am. Better mother, better wife, better housekeeper...you get the picture.

I am truly blessed in this life. Thanking my father in heaven for them has set my mood right. Given me hope that today will be all that it should.

Now bring on the Zumba, housecleaning, mothering and swimming at the lake with my three beautiful babies.

a beacon

I have been reading nie nie dialogs. A blog about a young mother who survives a horrific plane crash, where she and her husband are badly burned. She is so very inspirational. Her story is fascinating. I have been reading all the back posts as if it were a novel. I cannot get enough. Her example of strength and struggle are an amazing reminder of what is important. Her faith is strong, stronger than ever, yet her trials are greater than ever.

It leaves me feeling hopeful. Hopeful that my situation will improve, as hers has. Oh, I don't have any real complaints. I am married to the most incredible man. He loves me and I love him. We have 3 beautiful children that are perfect in every way. We live in a nice home, with food to eat and clothing to wear. We know the truth about the gospel of Jesus Christ.

It's the little things. Little things that often seem huge. Sometimes it's because they are, and sometimes it's because my mind gets carried away and they are bigger in my mind than they are in reality.

Life is about to change. And that is scary. I have to leave the comfort of my home and family and embark on a journey I am not sure if I am ready to take. As I head back to school this year, my mind is carried away with the things I will miss, like soccer games, and lazy Saturday afternoons, and bike rides on the river trail. But it must be done. Our comfortable home and food that we eat, and clothes that we wear depend on it. So I will do it, because I must.

If I can help ease the burden of our financial situation, I am required to do so. Not by Q, he would never force me to do anything I didn't want to, but by my own will. By the knowledge that it will get better if I do. It has to.

just for me

Here I sit at the public library. In the adult section. Usually I am here with 3 children in tow and am lucky if I get through the children's section without a scene. But tonight is my night. It's been an "off day" and so I kissed my children and husband goodbye to head off for some alone time.

I thought about going shopping. Shopping is so theraputic, but only when I have money to spend. It is not theraputic when I walk around stores looking at things I cannot afford. Or worse, end up purchasing it on CC and then agonizing on how I will ever pay it off. So, no, I am not shopping tonight. I chose the only place in town that does not require money (expect for the $7 late fines I had to pay to clear my library account, just so I could use the computer).

I'm not sure why I needed a night to myself. Only that my patience has worn thin, and my poor children are have been the target of my misplaced frustrations.

I am here, having just made this blogger acount. I plan to do nothing to it to make it pretty or fun to read. I am to be the only reader. It will be full of grammar and typing errors. It will have no pictures or graphics. It will serve as an outlet. A place for my thoughts. A journal of sorts. Private yet, so very public. Why does that intrigue me? Maybe someday, somone will stumble across it. And that is fine. But also fine if no one ever does.

This one is just for me.