Moms Need Mars Needs Moms

One of the best books in the entire cosmos is "Mars Needs Moms" by Berkley Breathed. He's the guy who does the Bloom County comics, and his illustrations in this book are works of art. The story itself is beautiful as well, but the art adds a dimension to the story that quadruples its effectiveness. Not to mention that there are little details that make the pictures hilarious and charming and beautiful, all at the same time.

If you haven't read this book, you should. Anyone who has a mother will be moved by the story, and anyone who IS a mother will not be able to finish it without bawling like a baby. Well, some might, but if so they must be aliens and not have normal human emotions.

I've actually owned this book a couple of times, but whenever I go to a baby shower I can't help but make this book part of my gift. There have been a couple of times where I couldn't find a copy in time, so I've given my own copy away. Today we bought it again, because I honestly HAVE to own this book. I've decided that I refuse to give my copy away again. I'm too scared that I won't be able to find it again if I do.

Ben was reading it to Evie in the car while I drove. I've heard it before, so I wasn't paying a ton of attention, but it was near the end and I glanced over and looked at the picture. He had just turned the page and hadn't resumed reading yet. I didn't hear any words, just saw the illustration. And I started crying.

Seriously, folks! This is a powerful book. Powerful, but funny at the same time. And it's totally something that anyone who's ever been a child can relate to. And as I said before, anyone who's a mother will see the fact behind this work of fiction as well, and will more than likely be moved to tears.

I'm blogging about this book because I feel that every household in the world should own a copy of this book. I doubt that day will come, but if it does, it will be a happy day indeed. :)

Whining - DONE

So after that blog I wrote yesterday, my mood just kept on spiraling downward. I woke up this morning feeling completely dejected. I had thoughts about doing something awful, just for the attention I would get from my loved ones. I would never actually do anything, of course, but I was at a low enough point that I was mildly considering it.

Around noon, when Evie was napping, Ben finally asked me what was up. I started bawling all over his clean shirt, but he was very understanding and just let me do it. I poured out everything I was feeling, about not making friends here, about my old friends not calling or emailing me ever, and even about how upset I was that my dad was the only one to call me for Christmas. The rest of the family was there, but he was the only one who talked to me. Not even my mom talked to me, and feeling the way I was I really could have used my mom's love. Aside from Christmas, my best efforts to get communication going with my family weren't going well, either. I rarely receive emails from any of them lately. So Christmas was kind of an extra blow.

Anyway, after crying my eyes out, I did feel better for awhile. I think it helps sometimes just to get it all out. I was able to get back to (more or less) normal, and ignore the hurt I was feeling.

Then, a couple of hours later, my dear friend Heather called me. She said hello, and Merry Christmas, and then asked how I was doing. When I told her fine, she said "Oh, are you sure? I just got the feeling like I should call you..." Of course, I burst into tears again, not sad ones, but the kind that you get when you're feeling bad and someone shows compassion. I told her all about it, and she was incredibly loving and understanding. Of course, she always is. She's amazing like that. We had a good talk, and I hung up feeling happy again. It's good to be reminded that someone cares about you.

Then, in the evening, my aunt Kathi called me as well. She was sitting in a parking lot, waiting to pick up my uncle Cody, and decided she should call me while she waited. I couldn't believe it. I rarely get ANY calls in a day, much less TWO calls from sympathetic friends and loved ones who care about me and just want to see how I'm doing. She asked me about Christmas, and we chatted about that, and then I told her about my frustrations as well. She's been in similar situations, and was able to not only lend a good ear, but give advice on how to change things for the better. Then I found out that my mother had called her for Christmas. My mom called her sister, which I don't blame her for (I called my sister, too), but she didn't call her daughter. In fact, after talking to my sister, I know she didn't call EITHER of her daughters. What the heck! Anyway, Kathi was really understanding about that, too.

I'm so grateful that I have people that care about me, who are willing to listen to the Spirit and follow through on it. The Spirit whispered that they should call me, and they did. And they totally brightened my mood. My whole day was improved, thanks to them. And they've helped me gain perspective and learn patience for my troubles. I know that I'll be okay, because even if I don't hear from my family and friends as often as I would really like to, I have the reassurance that there are people out there who love me. They don't just love me, even, they LIKE me too. Those don't always go together, you know.

I feel very blessed to have the friends and family that I do. You couldn't find anyone better in the world. I just hope I can be as good a friend to them as they've been to me.

One is the Loneliest Number

Loneliness sucks. My husband is my best friend, and he's wonderful, but he's a guy. I can't talk to him in the same way or about the same things that I do with my girl friends. I have Evie, and she's a girl, but with her only being 2 years old it's hard to have a good conversation with her.

Back when we were posted at Hill, I had two best girlfriends that were amazing. We did all sorts of stuff together. One of them lived just a few buildings down from us in our apartment complex, and rarely a day went by when we didn't talk or get together. When we said goodbye last month (she on her way to Florida, me on my way to Oklahoma), we agreed to keep in touch. We both recognized that literal distance between people can cause emotional distance as well, but we wanted to do our best to remain great friends.

I didn't expect the friendship to evaporate so quickly.

Since we moved here almost a month ago, I've received maybe 2 or 3 emails from her, and one phone call. From my other friend, who also moved to Florida, I've received a couple of emails as well, but no phone calls. I imagine it's not so hard for them to have moved, because they still have each other. I'm the one who got left out.

I've been trying to make friends here, but the girls are pretty set in their friendships already. They invited me to lunch once, and sometimes I say hi to one of them at the gym, but beyond that I haven't felt too included. At church, I sit by myself. I get to Relief Society pretty early, so I try to sit somewhere desirable, so people will sit next to me. Last sunday, the closest person to me was two seats away, on my right. On my left, the closest person was three seats away (I'm talking empty seats, not one empty seat and then a person. The closest person came after two empty seats). I was the only one sitting so completely alone. Let me tell you, it felt great.

I've tried to be active with the Church and the women here. I've accepted whatever invitations have come my way. I've talked to people I meet at the gym. I joined the ward choir. I've been social. But no one seems too interested in getting to know me.

There is another couple from Hill AFB that has moved here, that we know. The wife and I get along fine, but we've never been really close. I was hoping that when they moved here, she and I would get to know each other better. But as it turns out, she already has friends here - people from BYU ROTC that I didn't know (they were a class ahead of Ben). These are people from church, who haven't even talked to me, but are good friends with the couple we know. So there's no real motivation for her to get to know me better. She's not lonely like I am.

I can't remember the last time I felt so isolated. It's like people are making a mild effort to talk to me, so they can feel like they've done their good deed for the day or something, but they're not really putting their hearts into it. I'm trying my hardest. I'm as friendly and smiley as I can be, but no one cares about actually getting to know me. Despite my efforts to stand out and be noticed, I must not be too memorable.

It sucks, because I really am trying. I don't know what else I could possibly do.

The worst thing is the feeling that I've been abandoned by my two best friends, the ones in Florida. They're not lonely, because they have each other. I don't think they understand what I'm going through, or how I'm feeling. I've been emailing them regularly, but I rarely hear back from them. They don't need me like I still need them. And I can't help but wonder if we were ever really that close, if they can forget about me so easily now.

All I can say is, thank goodness I still have Ben. If I was doing this completely alone, I probably would have given up by now and moved back home with my parents. I'm a person who needs other people. I like to be helpful, to feel needed. I enjoy getting to know other people. I need to be liked, not by everyone, but at least by someone. I guess Ben is that "someone" here. I love him more than I've ever loved anybody, but it's not the same as having a girl friend.

Women need other women. Without them, it's very easy to feel loneliness and despair.

I wish I knew what to do about it.

The Other Side

It being Christmas Eve today, and the first one that my little family has had with just the three of us, things have been a little crazy around here. Evie's finally old enough to start understanding and participating in all the holiday stuff, so I've been trying really hard to make it special for her.

I never understood before how much hard work goes into making these holiday memories. Growing up, it was all blissful anticipation. We woke up on Christmas Eve, watched holiday specials, sang carols, and waited for the evening's festivities to begin. When dinnertime finally came around, we would gather at the table. We would open a new ornament (one for each of us) before eating, and put them on the Christmas tree. Then we'd eat ham, cheesy potatoes, bread, and a veggie of some kind (lately, green bean casserole). Cheesecake was dessert. After dinner, we'd sing carols together. Then we'd read the nativity story from the Bible. When that was over, we'd open one gift each (pajamas) and go change. We'd come back and set our stockings out in the living room so all of our things would be separated. Then we'd rush off to bed, eager for Christmas morning. I was an active participant in all of this, and I enjoyed every moment of it fully, but I think I took it all for granted. In the magic of the holiday, it never occurred to me how hard my mom and dad must be working behind the scenes to make everything perfect for the family.

Now it's my turn, and I finally understand how hard a job it really is. I've been spending the week getting all the ingredients I need to make the dinner and dessert. I had to buy and wrap the ornaments we're opening, as well as the pajamas. I went online and tried to find illustrations of the different parts of the Nativity story, so we can tell it to Evie in a way that will capture her interest and attention. Now that it's the day of, I've been trying to juggle all the cooking so everything will be hot and ready at the same time. On top of all that, Evie's had a mild stomach bug today, so she's been puking (although not since this morning, thankfully, it seems to have passed) and we've had to clean up her pajamas, bedding, stuffed animals, and everything else she threw up on. And she's had three baths. It's been crazy. But I'm still hoping that it will be just as magical and wonderful for Evie as it's always been for me.

I have to say, it really makes me appreciate my mom and dad. It's harder to feel the magic when you're the ones making it happen. It's a little lonely, being on the other side of the festivities, making the family's traditions work out so beautifully. You don't get to feel the pure joy of the day, when your mind is crowded with all the little details. My mom and dad have sacrificed themselves every Christmas for the past 20-something years, just so my siblings and I could be as full of the holiday spirit as possible. They make minor miracles occur, every year. I've never properly thanked them for that.

Thank you, Mom and Dad. You've always been the miracle workers behind the details of Christmas. You always made it wonderful. You always made it special. I finally understand (to some extent, anyway) the sacrifices you've made for me at Christmastime. Those childhood memories are ones that I'll always treasure, thanks to you. I love you.

Merry Christmas.

It Makes You Think

Ben showed me a news report today. A Marine was forced to eject from his F18 when the engines malfunctioned. The abandoned jet crashed into a residential area, hitting a house where a Korean immigrant and his family lived.

The man of the house wasn't there at the time. When he got home, he found that his entire family (mother-in-law, wife, and two baby girls) had been killed. His entire family.

I think most of us would scream, cry, and curse the Marine who unwittingly caused the tragedy.

But this man forgave the pilot.

The pilot's first words after he safely landed were, "I hope I didn't kill anybody."

Both engines in his fighter had failed. He'd had no choice but to eject. It's what any sane person, under the stress of making a split-second life and death decision, would have done.

Dong Yun Yoon, the lone survivor, said of the pilot, "I pray for him not to suffer for this action. I know he's one of our treasures for our country."

He recognized that the entire tragedy was a horrible accident, and didn't blame the pilot. He forgave him. His entire family was snatched away in an instant, and he forgave the pilot.

I'd like to think that maybe I could do the same if something like that happened to me, but I'm just not sure. I know it's the right thing to do in that sort of situation, but I don't know if I could be reasonable through that kind of suffering - especially this time of year, when everyone is focused on love and family. It sort of magnifies the tragedy of it all.

As far as the pilot goes, I have no doubt that he's beating himself up about it. I honestly feel as badly for him as I do for Yoon. I'm sure he's thinking "If only." If only he had sacrificed himself, and stayed in the plane to try and steer it to a safer crash area. If only he had done something different in his flight pattern itself, so he wasn't so close to a residential area. If only he'd had his engines double-checked (or triple-checked) before takeoff.

He was clearly worried that the plane might have hurt someone, if you look at his first words he said after ejecting. "I hope I didn't kill anybody." Upon hearing what happened, I have no doubt that he was filled with overwhelming guilt and remorse.

Ben is going to be a pilot. It's possible that he might have to make a similar choice himself one day. I can't imagine how hard that would be. If he sacrificed himself, he would be leaving the people he loves (Evie and I) alone. If he chose to eject and pray for the best, he risks the possible accidental death of an innocent third party, something that would consume him with remorse, probably for the rest of his life. Neither choice is a good one.

This has been a tragedy for everyone involved. But it's also been a shining example of humanity at its best. Yoon could easily have screamed, cried, and sworn vengence. The pilot could have gotten defensive, convincing himself that he shouldn't feel bad because it was an accident. The remorse, the forgiveness, the humanity of it all teaches us a lesson. It helps us to remember that the faceless people around us have feelings, just like we do. They have trials. They have blessings. They have weaknesses. They have talents. They have insecurities. They have families.

We're all the same. We're all different, yes, but on a basic level, we all want the same thing. We want to be happy. We want to be loved. And above all, when something bad happens, we want to be forgiven/be able to forgive, and to find peace. We can't find peace without forgiveness.

I pray that Yoon and the pilot will both be able to find peace, and that they'll someday also be able to find happiness again. I pray for Yoon's mother-in-law, wife, and two baby girls. I pray that he'll be able to feel their love in his life, and know that they're always with him. I pray that he'll be blessed with the knowledge that he will see them again someday.

Most of all, I pray that I can learn from this tragic accident. I want to live my life in such a way that if something does happen to my loved ones, I'll have no doubt that they knew that I loved them with every fiber of my being. I want to live my life with a spirit of forgiveness to those that may somehow wrong me. I want to endure all of the trials I have in my life, and be strengthened by them, so that when something hugely tragic does happen I'll have the faith and strength to survive it.

You can read about it here:
http://www.latimes.com/news/printedition/california/la-me-jetcrash10-2008dec10,0,2049016.story

Blessings and Disappointments

So as it turns out, our 6 week stay in temporary housing is not the norm.

We had been #2 on the waiting list for several weeks before we moved here, and assumed that due to that high number we'd be getting into a house quickly. I even had hopes we'd be settled in for Christmas.

Once we arrived, we discovered we were #3. They'd been bumping us back when more immediate or more important people's needs came up. That seemed logical. We figured that was normal, too.

When we found out that even after we got a house there would be a 30-day wait for it, we knew we wouldn't have a home in time for Christmas. I was sad, but we got some decorations and are making the best of it.

Naturally, I figured most people moving to Vance have to go through a month to 6 weeks in temporary housing.

NOT SO!

I met with a group of wives today to have a play group for our kids. They were all extremely nice, and Evie and I had a good time. But over the course of the time we spent together, I discovered that most people, apparently, don't have a wait anything like this bad. The girl who had moved in most recently (3 weeks ago) moved straight in to her new house. I don't think they spent any time at all in the TLF, although they might have been there a day or two. Another girl was contacted by the housing office and offered her choice of two homes - one (very slightly) smaller house in 3 days, or one (slightly) larger house in 30. She, too, moved right away.

The longest wait I heard anyone mention was TWO WEEKS!

WE'RE STUCK HERE FOR SIX!!!!!!

If we had a two week wait, we would be moving next week, with plenty of time to get things set for a nice Christmas in our own home. But no, we're not moving until Jan. 16th.

I'm kind of frustrated with this. I realize that part of the problem was probably our wait time on the list. The girl who moved in immediately was on the list for several months, so they probably gave her a higher priority when she got here. We were only on the list for about a month and a half.

HOWEVER, we tried very hard to get on that list much, much earlier. We couldn't officially apply for housing until Ben had his official orders that stated he was coming here. And the office taking care of this at Hill screwed up. They told Ben, "Oh yeah, go to Alabama for 6 weeks, we've got all your information for your orders." We should have been able to apply for housing back in August. But they (not Ben, the office) forgot some things that they needed, and didn't notice until Ben was in Alabama and couldn't do anything about it. So he couldn't actually apply for housing until near the end of October.

I have no doubt that this is part of why we don't have a house. But I wonder how many people there are who are spending a nice, cozy Christmas at one base, moving here right after, and getting into their new home even before we do. How many houses are sitting around, waiting for their new residents to move here, while we spend a lonely Christmas in a cramped apartment with none of our stuff? There has to be a better system than this. The Air Force usually does an excellent job taking care of their people, but this is just wrong. It's Christmastime. They should be trying harder to help the families (like us) with nowhere to go. It's just frustrating.

I could accept the housing dilemma more easily when I thought it was the norm. Knowing that it isn't normal, that ours is a ridiculous wait time, and that it's Christmas to boot, makes me angry. I've been praying for MONTHS that we be in our own home for Christmas. The fact that things worked out this way is discouraging.

I'll stop complaining about it pretty quickly, I'm sure, since there's nothing I can do about it. But it feels really good to write all this down, and vent a little bit. It's our first Christmas as a family unit, with just the three of us. We've always been with other family before. I really wanted this to be the kind of Christmas I remember from when I was growing up - and part of that includes having a real home. I know Evie won't care, that she won't remember this in years to come, but I will. And I think I'll always be a little bit sad.

I know that I'm fortunate to have somewhere to stay at all. I know I'm blessed that I can afford to buy my family presents. I know that there are people in the world that don't have any of the things that I have, and that they would give their right lung to trade with me. I know that I'm spoiled in my life, that I'm one of the lucky ones on this earth. That's the other reason why I won't complain any more once I finish this blog. But while my problems pale in comparison with other people's, that doesn't mean I can't be sad, does it?

This will be a good Christmas, I'll make sure of that. I have my family, we have food and shelter, we have a Christmas tree and gifts for one another. We even have hot water and indoor plumbing! To complain about the housing thing is petty. I need to shut up and count my blessings. God may not have given me the house I'd been praying for, but He did give me the husband and daughter that I couldn't survive without. He's given me good neighbors, and potential good friends, here at Vance. He's given Ben a steady income, doing a job he enjoys. We're taken care of. We're provided for. The blessings outweigh the disappointments.

I just need to remember that, the next time I find myself comparing housing wait times.

I am blessed.

Ooooooklahoma!

This is our third day in Oklahoma, and I've finally gotten the stupid state song out of my head. For now.

For those who don't know, we don't get to move into our new home until January, so for now we're in a tiny apartment in temporary housing. I'm completely bummed that we're spending Christmas here without any of our belongings, but I'm very grateful I packed our presents in the car instead of on the moving truck (the contents of which won't be seen until we move in January).

We bought a little four-foot tree and decorated it, and hung some cheap stockings across the curtains over our one window. I even found a little Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus to put out as a decoration. I'm really sad I don't get to use the beautiful hand-painted Nativity my Mom made for me last year. Since it was a Christmas gift last year, it is as yet unused.

Anyway, maybe it will shape up to be one of those inspirational little "we don't have much" Christmases that they write about in Chicken Soup for the Soul. We'll see.

On another note, did you know that they've come out with New York Cheesecake Hershey Kisses? They're chocolate on the outside, with cheesecake cream on the inside. They're surprisingly good, I might add. Most of Hershey's recent ambitions in the Kiss world have been pretty dreadful, so this might change things. On the other hand, if you don't like cheesecake (or if you're a really picky cheesecake connoisseur) you might be disappointed.

We're also getting a kitten when we move in January. We've already been to the shelter to play with them twice, and it was awesome. I was left alone in the room with all 5 of them for a few minutes yesterday, and I became a kitty playground. I had them attacking my shoelaces and the strings on my jacket, purring loudly. They were so adorable. It makes me want to take all of them home. But then I'd be one tragedy away from becoming a crazy cat lady, so maybe we'll just stick with getting one. They're so cute, though. I can see how the people at the shelter would be heartbroken when they can't get one of the kittens adopted. There's one they currently have that's been there for a few years (a cat, now, not a kitten anymore). She's apparently really sweet, and they're so sad that they can't find her a home.

It makes me want to adopt kids, too, since orphans are in similar situations, but let's face it - that's WAY more expensive than adopting a cat, and the cat is stretching our budget. But maybe Mom and Dad can mail me an orphan from Kenya (I'M TOTALLY KIDDING!!! IT'S A JOKE!!!).

Anyway, that's my life up to date. And that's all I have to say about that.

Mama Cass Reviews a Lot

So I really like Orson Scott Card's column, "Uncle Orson Reviews Everything". I think it's a fun way to just put your thoughts out there on different books, movies, TV shows, Olive Garden entrees, whatever. So I thought I would do something like unto it.

The first thing I'd like to talk about today is the movie Twilight. I read the books, and once I got past all the gushy "he's so beautiful! My heart flutters when I see him! Bliss, bliss!" thoughts of the novels' teenage protagonist, I really enjoyed them. The plot lines were very engaging, and the thoughts of the heroine (while kind of annoying) were written in such a way that it completely reminded the reader what it feels like to love for the first time. I read all four of the books, and was really looking forward to the movie.

The movie got a lot of things very right. It was very true to the plot of the first book. All of the heroic things that Edward does are portrayed beautifully, making all the giggly females in the audience fall in love with him all over again. Nearer to the end, when the plot really picked up, the movie became extremely engrossing.

Unfortunately, until that extremely engrossing latter third or so of the movie, it was a little hard to be fully engaged. The book and movie have the necessity of establishing the romance between Bella and Edward before any of the rest of the story can happen. I completely understand that. But in the movie, it seemed to drag a lot for me, and the actors weren't terribly convincing. Eric D. Snider made the observation in his review that Edward came across as kind of high. This is a pretty accurate statement. The character is supposed to be dangerous, sexy, and brooding. While Robert Pattinson is very handsome, and a decent actor, he didn't quite pull it off. On the other hand, he was supposed to be playing a perfect, immortal, and very specific being. The whole point of Stephanie Meyer's vampires is that they are unlike any kind of human. They have an effortless seduction and perfection about them. I don't think it would have been possible to find an actor that could have played the part correctly. Even so, you can't help but hope. Robert Pattinson did his best, and it honestly wasn't bad. It just wasn't quite Edward.

Kristen Stewart wasn't bad as Bella, either, but her acting seemed a little flat. Part of Bella's charm is that she's clumsy, emotional, and a little bit absentminded. She's a normal teenage girl. But Stewart played her almost like she was a vampire herself - a little too brooding, a little too graceful (despite a few attempts to look clumsy), and way too mature. I don't think this was Stewart's intent, necessarily, I think she just didn't try as hard as she could have to really understand her character. The romance seemed forced as well, almost as though she was going through the motions (aka "this is what love looks like" rather than "this is how love feels"). Again, though, the climax at the end was incredible. She pulled out a powerful performance. I had chills.

It's definitely not the actors' fault that they struggled. They were playing very specific characters with a very specific fanbase. One fan's perfection would have been completely wrong for another person. I think they did extremely well in spite of the inherent difficulties in playing Edward and Bella. Overall, I enjoyed their performances in spite of the flaws.

The biggest beef I had with the movie was a three-parter: The soundtrack, the special effects, and the camera work. Put together, all three gave the film an almost 80's-type feel. The music involved electric guitars, and the score was always melancholy and a little dark. I think if they had used more classical instruments, and had a more romantic love theme (rather than the angsty electric guitar theme), the music would have been far more emotionally effective for the audience. Classical instruments would also have given the movie a more timeless feel, as opposed to making it feel dated.

The special effects brought the 80's to mind as well. I realize some of the effects would have been hard to have done any better, but there were some that have been done better in other places. Edward is supposed to be fast. Like a blur. Like another hunky alien character... yes friends, I'm talking about Superman. Anyone who has watched the TV show Smallville has seen this effect worked well. It's also been done on Heroes. So we all know it's possible. But rather than going with that kind of a look for Edward, they chose instead to (I'm guessing) have him run at his regular speed (and none too gracefully, considering it was through the woods and frequently uphill) and then they just sped it up. It looked awkward and lurchy. Edward is supposed to be graceful, folks. Not tripping over his feet in fast-forward.

The last part was the camera-work. It had an uncomfortable tendancy to rotate around the couple in circles, making me dizzy. It also seemed shaky a lot of the time, like the camera was being held by hand rather than by a smooth-moving machine. I realize this was probably for effect, but overall it gave me a headache.

So there were definitely some problems I had with Twilight. Some of the acting, the slowness of the plot, the music, the special effects, the camera-work... not all as good as they could have been. But in spite of all the beefs I had, overall I truly enjoyed this movie. I guess that makes it similar to my experience with the books - once you get past the little annoying things, you've got a great story on your hands.

************

Terry Pratchett is a genius. If you haven't read any of his books, you should. Now. I mean it. Go to the store, and buy a book or two.

Most of the books he writes take place in "Discworld". It's a flat world, carried on the backs of four elephants that are standing on the back of an enormous turtle that's swimming through space. I realize this sounds like some sort of nerdy sci-fi gig, but it's more like a fantasy series. There's really no science involved.

His books are usually very satirical, and they're always extremely funny. There are a few main characters that he centers his books on - a pair of witches named Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg (the latter of which is a thoroughly dirty-minded old woman, but extremely cheerful and pleasant at the same time); the Night Watchmen (policemen in the great city of Ankh-Mopork); the Wizards at the Unseen University (just don't call the Librarian a "monkey" or he'll rip off your arms); and Death (yes, that's him - tall, bony, carries a scythe, rides a huge white horse named "Binky"). Almost every book centers around one of these groups/characters, although they occasionally overlap a little, which make sense, seeing as how they all live in the same world.

While I love the books in general, today I'm specifically talking about a book that's a little ways outside of the typical Discworld universe. It is still a part of it, but it doesn't fit with one of the aforementioned characters like most of his books do. This is because it's a slightly different genre, being youth fiction rather than adult. It's called The Wee Free Men.

Now, although it's youth literature that doesn't mean it's not as good as the other books. On the contrary, I found it even more engaging than some of the others, although not all. The reason it's classified as youth fiction is, I think, because A) the protagonist is a 9-year-old girl, B) it's lacking in the innuendoes and occasional adult-ish themes (his books are always clean but there is some stuff that would go over younger people's heads) that you find in his adult fiction, and C) he omits the footnotes that add humor and a little bit of confusion to his other work (he'll put random, and usually hilarious information in those asides). Other than that, it's written just as well as any of his other work, and the story is every bit as engaging.

It's about a young future witch named Tiffany whose baby brother is kidnapped by the Queen of Fairyland. Armed with a frying pan, a book of sheep-illness remedies, and a gang of tiny Scottish pictsies (yes that's right - PICTsies, not pixies), she goes to get him back.

It's a fantastic book. Young Tiffany is wise and mature beyond her years, and sees things that adults often miss (which no doubt appeals to the children in the world that deserve our respect but rarely get it). The pictsies - or Wee Free Men, as they call themselves - are boistrous, noisy, theiving brigands. Their response to a threat is to head-butt it. Their Scottish brogue is written out, which makes it a little hard to read at times, but once you get the flow it's so much fun! I found myself reading their parts out loud to hear myself speaking with a Scottish accent.

It's a completely charming book, and while youth literature, it's not light and fluffy stuff. Tiffany goes through dangerous challenges that require her to use her brain - including a marriage proposal from basically all of the pictsies. :) It's a gripping story, but thanks to Pratchett's wit, it's peppered with humor that keeps you smiling.

Fortunately for all of us, it's book one in a series that now consists of three books. My guess is that there won't be a fourth, since sadly Pratchett has been diagnosed with the early onset of Alzheimer's. The world will be a sadder and more somber place once Pratchett's fantastic imagination is halted. Luckily the Discworld series is not a small one. There are more than 50 books to remind us over and over again of Pratchett's genius, and to make us smile.

************

I don't know how many of you have had the white chocolate molten cake at Chili's, but if you haven't, you should. Granted, if you don't like white chocolate there's a good chance you won't like this, but there are two other kinds of molten cake you could have instead (regular molten chocolate cake, or chocolate chip molten cake).

It's delicious. It's basically a little white cake mountain with melted white chocolate inside. There's a scoop of ice cream on top that's covered in white chocolate magic shell. Raspberry sauce is drizzled across the plate and there are white chocolate shavings sprinkled here and there.

The only dessert I've ever found at a restaurant that topped this one was the apple chimi-cheesecake at Applebee's, which has been discountinued. (Shame on you, Applebee's! What were you thinking???)

Where the chimi-cheesecake was light and creamy and delicious, the white chocolate molten cake is rich and smooth and (almost) equally delicious. I don't really know what more I can say than that. If you like white chocolate, you will love this dessert. And if you don't, there's something wrong with you. And I mean that in the nicest possible way. :D

Sisters

So my cute little sis and her hubby came to spend the weekend with us. It was so fun! I hadn't really gotten the chance to hang out with them since they got married. Since I'm moving next week, it was really important to me to get to see her before I left. So this was really great.

They just left about 5 minutes ago, and already I'm feeling a deep sense of loss. I know I'll see them again, they even talked about flying out to visit us in Oklahoma, but it's going to be weird moving so far away. I love my sister a LOT. And her husband is awesome, he fits in perfectly with the rest of our crazy family. It would have been really nice to have been around a while longer, to get to know him a little better, and to spend more time with her. But no matter how much extra time I got, it would never have been enough. She's one of my very best friends, and moving away will be hard no matter when it happens. So I suppose next week is as good a time as any.

I feel so lucky to know that I can be with my family after death. Even if something (heaven forbid) happened to me, or happened to my sister, we would still see each other again. I have absolutely no doubts about that. That's one of the most wonderful tenets of the LDS faith - eternal families.

God gave us families for a reason. I know my family has always been (in my mind) a shining example of what heaven must be like. I come from an ideal family, the kind that God wishes all of His children could have. I have good parents who love each other and their children. They're devoted to God and trying to live the was He wants them to. They never lashed out at us in anger or frustration. They always respected us, even as small children. They listened to us. They taught us good principles. The nurtured us, physically and spiritually. I am fully aware of how rare and precious a gift it was for me to have been raised with the family I have.

So many homes today are broken. There's abuse, neglect, anger, hate. Often children are raised by only one parent, or have to watch as their parents go through bitter divorces and custody battles. Stuff like that can screw a kid up. But my family was ideal, the kind of family that God had in mind when He invented families. That's why He makes it possible for us to be with our families forever - He knows what an incredible blessing they can be. I am so grateful that I am sealed to my family forever, just like I'm sealed to Ben and my children. They will always be my family.

That's why, even though I'm sad to be saying good-bye to my sister, I'm not afraid. I'm not crying. My heart isn't breaking. Because I know that, no matter what happens, I'll see her again. She will always be my sister, and there will never be a time when I have to say good-bye forever. There will always be a "next time" to look forward to.

I love you, Lu! I'll miss you.

Fambly

This is me and my fambly. I love this picture, we'll probably use it on our Christmas cards this year. I have to admit, I was really hoping to be able to sign them "Ben, Cassie, Evie, and Baby" but it doesn't look like that's going to happen.

I did go to the doctor today, however, to see if he could tell me why I haven't been able to get pregnant. He did come across something in the exam (don't ask me, I'm not sure what part it specifically was) that he said was a little off, but he said that it wouldn't prevent me from getting pregnant, it would just make it a little harder. So maybe that's what the problem has been, but just in case I'm going to use an ovulation test thingy to make sure that I'm actually ovulating every month.

Good times.

Anyway, you'd think that this kind of information would be really frustrating for me, since it seems like maybe there really IS a problem, but I'm actually feeling happier than I have been in a while. I think it's because I'm actually DOING something about it. It's not just up to guesswork anymore, I'm getting help. It makes me feel a lot less helpless. Granted, it doesn't mean getting pregnant will suddenly be easy, but at least I'm not so in the dark about it anymore.

So, today I was playing Christmas carols on the piano so Evie could experience them. She pretty much ignored me and focused on systematically removing everything from my purse and throwing it on the floor. I tried to explain to her that one day the sound of Christmas carols would lift her spirits and make her feel happy and nostalgic all at once. She didn't seem to care. Granted, she's only 2, and I don't think she knows what "nostalgic" means.

I'm excited, though, because although this is not her first Christmas (it's her third), this is the first one that she's really old enough to appreciate the holidays. Last year we tried to sit her down on Christmas morning to open her presents, and she got really angry that we were trying to keep her in one place. She didn't open a single present. She just left the room in search of her grandparents' cat. It was kind of a let-down after all the excitement I had buying her presents and imagining her reaction. Anti-climactic, if you will.

But this year she understands presents. She had a blast on her birthday, and lately she's been carrying around a gift bag and presenting it to me, or her Dad, or her favorite stuffed animals and telling us "Happy Birthday!" It's pretty cute. She's also old enough to sit through Christmas movies like The Grinch or Rudolph. She loves that kind of thing. I think she's probably ready to start hearing Santa Claus stories as well, and start learning how the whole present thing works (writing a list, mailing it to Santa, leaving out cookies, etc.). She already has learned a lot about Jesus, and I think being able to tell her that Christmas is Jesus' birthday is something she'll get right away. She's a smartie, and she loves birthdays.

So this year will be a lot of fun for us. We're not going to spend Christmas with any relatives, which is exciting too, although in a mixed way. We love seeing family, especially around the holidays, but there's something really exciting about having our first Christmas with just our little family. When the kids are excited, it gets the parents excited as well, and this is the first year Evie will understand enough to be excited. I'm saying "excited" a lot. EXCITED! Wow, that's a weird-looking word. Anyway, it should be a lot of fun.

We found out today that we're number 2 on the waiting list for on-base housing in Oklahoma. This is a huge relief to me, because I was afraid we'd be in temporary housing for Christmas, without our tree or decorations or piano or any of that. I'm still sighing in relief. We should, with any luck, be able to move into a house right away. We're not leaving for another 2 1/2 weeks, so we should definitely have moved all the way up the waiting list by then. I'm so happy about that.

At the same time, I can't believe we're moving in 2 1/2 weeks! It feels like it's still so far away. This is probably because we don't have a set moving date yet, and also because we don't have to pack any of our own stuff. Normally we'd have half our stuff in boxes by now (well, not really. But in a perfect world. If we weren't huge procrastinators), but because the Air Force takes care of all of that for us, we don't have to worry about it. We can keep our things pretty much where they are until the movers come do it all for us. I have to admit, that's one of the best things about the military. They make you move around a lot, but at least they do the packing and moving for you. I hate packing with a violent, fiery passion.

It seems like a lot of things are happening and changing all at once. I don't think it's entirely a bad thing, but I'm too nervous to see all the good at this point, either. There are a lot of unknowns in the future. It's scary, just hoping everything happens the way you've planned. I know we'll be fine, but I'm nervous all the same. I'm leaving behind friends and family. It's going to be hard to call a new place "home" when I hardly know anyone there. I know I'll make new friends, but there will probably always be a part of me that's scared people won't like me.

I guess no matter what happens, at least I'll have Ben and Evie. My little fambly. :)

Mommy Dearest

Have you ever noticed that kids and puppies have a lot in common? They're cute, loyal, mischievous, and they'll love you no matter how you treat them. Sure, if you treat them poorly they'll be completely screwed up as adults, but they never really stop loving you.

I worry a lot that I'm a bad mother. Ben and I have been trying over a year for another baby, and we haven't had any luck. I realized today that maybe God is waiting for me to be a better Mom to the child I have before He sends me any more.

Now, don't get me wrong. I don't beat Evie. I don't tell her she's stupid, worthless, ugly, or anything else like that (and she's not). I didn't even put her in time-out when she stuck her cheese to the wall like a sticker or painted the fridge with melted chocolate. I should have, maybe, but no harm was done and she was just being curious.

But I still feel like a bad mom a lot of the time.

I get frustrated pretty easily, especially lately. This morning, I was trying to comb her hair for church and she kept pulling her head away and messing it up. While she was foiling my attempts to pretty up her hair, she was also dumping clips and hair ties into the sink. She was also digging away at my expensive lipstick and trying to apply it to her own lips. (As you can probably guess, she's an excellent multi-tasker.) I eventually got fed up and yelled "Stop it! Fine, if you don't want to have pretty hair, I don't care!" and I picked her up, stuck her in her crib, slammed the door, and left. I then began to cry as I heard her plaintitive wailing coming from the crib, "Mama! Maaaama!!!" Even after my yelling, she still wanted me. She wanted my approval. She didn't want me to reject her. I recognized immediately that nothing she had done was especially naughty, or even malicious. She was just being curious, and keeping herself entertained while I combed her hair. How many kids even let their mothers comb their hair at age two? Not many. I was so ashamed of myself.

I went back into her room and picked her up. We sat in the rocking chair and I told her I was sorry, over and over again. She continued to cry for a minute or two, telling me, "Comb hair, Mama, comb hair!" She felt guilty. I couldn't believe it. She hadn't really done anything wrong, and I had made her feel guilty. I felt like the worst mom in the history of the world.

So I took her back into the bathroom, and told her to pick out some clips for her hair. She chose two, and I put one on either side of her head. It was much easier than trying to do something elaborate like I'd been doing earlier. Ten seconds, and some hairspray, and she was done. We were both happy. Problem solved.

But I still felt bad.

In my mind, I kept thinking "No wonder I can't get pregnant again. Why would God send any more precious children to me when I'm not even nice to the one I have?"

I do think I was probably being a little melodramatic. I try to let Evie have things she wants, when it's a good thing for her to have them. She's not spoiled, but I try to tell her "yes" as much as I can. She eats well, sleeps well, has plenty of toys. We make cookies together, she helps me sweep the floor, we dance in the living room. She's not abused in any way, and I know for sure that she has it a lot better than most kids. I love her more than pretty much anything in the world, and Ben does, too. We have about a bazillion pictures of her all over our house and crammed on our computer. We take her to the zoo, the beach, the playground, wherever.

But on the average day, I don't play with her enough. I sit her down in front of Sesame Street or Sleeping Beauty and go do my own thing. I count the minutes until naptime and bedtime every day. I don't take her outside when she wants to go because I don't feel like it. I don't even get up with her in the morning - Ben does that. I feel like I ignore her too much.

I'm not proud of this, and I really try to find things we can do together. I try to plan activities I know she'll like. I try to be interested in her games and playing. But she's two, for crying out loud! It's really hard to keep focused on one of her activities she likes to do, because they're mind numbing (for me) a lot of the time. Dancing, for example - she likes to hold hands and spin in a circle, over and over again. I get so dizzy, so fast. I can only take it for a minute or two, but as soon as I stop she wants to do it again. I believe she could do this all day. Not only is it dizzying, it gives me a killer headache. So I don't do it very often, even though I know it would make her happy. I tell her no. And then I feel bad about it.

I don't know. I guess I don't really feel like I'm a bad mother, I just don't think I'm as good as I'd like to be. I'm looking forward to the day when she can carry on a real conversation with me. I'm looking forward to playing board games or cards with her. I'm looking forward to hearing her make up stories, or watching her draw creative pictures. She's still so young, though. She's not there yet, and it's a rough time for her. She has so much to share, and so little means to share it. Her language skills aren't super strong (although pretty advanced for her age), and her motor skills are still developing. It must be frustrating for her, probably even more so than it is for me.

It's probably silly to think that I'm having a hard time conceiving another baby because I'm not a good mom. God doesn't work that way. If He can send triplets to a 14-year-old, unmarried mother with a meth addiction, He probably wouldn't mind sending a few to me. I'm in a loving marriage, with good, moral values. My husband and I treat our child with love and respect as much as we can (although you can see that I'm far from perfect), and we would love any other children just as much. We have a steady income, and while it's not much, we're far from starving. We never touch our little girl in anger. We never insult her or belittle her. We go to church every week, and live our religion constantly. We love Evie, and we're always telling her that. We tell her all the time that she's beautiful, special, and loved. There are definitely worse places God could send children than to our home.

So I don't know why we're not pregnant, after a year of trying. It took us a long time to get Evie, too, so I'm sure a lot of it is just that we're not super fertile. I'm also sure that we'll have more kids. God knows when the best time will be for them to come. Their birthday will determine what year they start school, what friends they make, what teachers they have. Timing is essential, and whenever we have more kids the timing will be perfect. God wants all his children to be happy, so He sends them whenever the best time will be for them. I believe that completely. That doesn't mean their lives will be easy, but it does mean that if they make good choices and live their lives trying to follow His will, they'll be happy.

I know God has more children for me. He knows how much I love my daughter, and how much I long to have more children. It may be another year before that day comes. It may be more. But it will happen. And in the meantime, I'll keep trying to be a better mother to the child I already have. She is one of the two most important people in my life, and she deserves a perfect mother. She probably won't ever have one, but I'm going to try my hardest to give her one.

The Best of Times, the Worst of Times

I am fully aware that this is a great time to be alive. When I think about living in the days before cars, televisions, microwaves, and digital cameras, I count my blessings that I live now instead. Our lives are so easy. We have so much leisure time. We get to go out to restaurants, see movies, spend time with our families. We can hop a plane and fly to Europe for a week, or take a cruise to the Bahamas. We can carry phones with us everywhere we go so that our loved ones can reach us at all times. We have medicine to treat most diseases, and even surgeries and medicines for things that aren't life-threatening. A woman giving birth to a baby can be completely numb from the waist down!!!! That's one of the best things, if you ask me.

At the same time, this is a hard world to live in. The world is constantly seeing one war or another being fought. There are drugs and gangs destroying teenagers. Promiscuity and teen pregnancy is considered normal. Having an affair is commonplace. Getting divorced is all but expected. We're definitely living in the best of times, as well as the worst of times.

This has been an especially rough past couple of days for me. First, my preferred nominee doesn't win the White House. It's not a huge deal, and in fact it was a very historic election what with the first minority president being elected and all, but it still kind of put me on edge. Ben's in the Air Force, so matters that deal with National Security in general and the military in particular hit very close to home. I would have felt much safer with a President who really understands the situation, thanks to his experiences as an actual member of the military. I would even have felt okay about a President that believes in our good men and women overseas, and wants to help them succeed (especially since the war is all but won. All we need now is to see it through). Obama, however, has promised to pull troops out of Iraq within his first 16 months in office. The terrorists know that we've beaten them. If we pull out now, it will look to them like a sign from God that their cause is just, and they will follow us back here, to America, to reap more destruction and fear. More innocent people will die. At least, that's how I picture it, and if you think about it, it doesn't seem like an unrealistic scenario. The terrorists are fanatics when it comes to their religion. They're willing to kill for it, and to die for it. They're not just going to leave us alone.

I have no doubt that Obama is a good man and is doing what he thinks is right. I'm just praying that things work out. I don't want to have to worry about bombs and nukes in my neighborhood. So hopefully Obama listens to his advisors and hears out all sides before making a decision, and then goes with what is right. I'm praying for him. As leader of the most powerful country in the world, he needs all our prayers.

So anyway, that's the first thing that's made me a little distraught. The other thing is the hoopla that's surrounding the passage of a certain proposition in California. I used to be very firmly in the middle about the issue, recognizing my church's stance on it but not entirely comfortable with the idea of outright protesting (mostly because I have friends that are homosexual, and I didn't want to upset them in any way). Then I read an article where the Church spelled out their reasoning for fighting. It cleared a lot of my questions up, and I began to support my church more wholeheartedly. When Ben pointed out the last passage in the Proclamation to the World,

“We warn that individuals who violate covenants of chastity, who abuse spouse or offspring, or who fail to fulfill family responsibilities will one day stand accountable before God. Further, we warn that the disintegration of the family will bring upon individuals, communities, and nations the calamities foretold by ancient and modern prophets.
“We call upon responsible citizens and officers of government everywhere to promote those measures designed to maintain and strengthen the family as the fundamental unit of society."

I realized that this was an important issue. As a Latter-Day Saint, I believe that the Proclamation to the World is modern-day scripture. I believe in a living prophet who speaks to the Lord on behalf of His children. And this was something that President Hinckley and his counsilors worked on for a long time, to make sure it was perfect. This is modern revelation, and the parts quoted above are a prophecy, just like the prophecies made by prophets of old.

If the disintegration of families is going to bring about disasters and calamities (and I believe that it's a true prohpecy), then we need to do everything in our power to protect families and, along with that, marriage.

I have nothing against homosexuals. Some of my very closest friends have been gay. We get along great. It makes me sad to support something that causes them pain. But God comes first for me in my life. I'll do what He asks.

I think it's important to point out, for any who might not know this, that the Church pretty much never tells us how to vote. They have never, as far as I'm aware, asked anything of the Saints when it comes to politics. They leave us to judge for ourselves and make our own decisions. That's what makes this so important. If they decided to ask us to vote a certain way, for the first time EVER, it must be for a very good reason.

Anyway, because of 8 passing in California, a lot of the homosexual community is upset. I can't really blame them. I know how it feels to be in a minority. Being a Latter-Day Saint is easier in many ways, because it's a subtle thing, but at the same time we're one of the only minorities in the country that it's okay to hate. Being racist or anti-gay is bad, and everyone knows it. Hating Jews can get you fired. Showing discrimination in almost any form is unacceptable these days. But no one minds if you hate Mormons. When Mitt Romney was running for the Republican candidacy, people criticized him for his religion in a way that would never happen to anyone from any other religion. So I do understand feeling discriminated against. I haven't had to face it as much as I'm sure the gay community has, but I do get it.

The saddest thing, in my mind, is the venomous reaction. There were a number of churches and organizations involved in passing Prop. 8. But pretty much the only people getting hate mail and protestors for it are the Mormons. The Church itself didn't donate any money to the cause, it was an individual choice that some members made to donate money. But the Church is being accused of using their "vast wealth" to spread evil, hate and lies. There are people screaming obscenities at members going to and from the temple - a place we consider the House of the Lord. President Monson especially has become a target for all this hate. Anyone who has ever heard him speak will tell you that he's a humble, sweet, honest man. He truly tries to do what is right in every aspect of his life. But the names they're calling him would make a sailor blush. It's sad, and it's sick. Apparently everyone has the right to vote however they wish, unless it offends someone else. Freedom of speech and democracy are a thing of the past. Freedom of religion - forget it. Apparently we don't even have the freedom anymore to fight for things that are important to us, things we believe in.

There are very few Mormons who hate homosexuals. Unfortunately, I have met a few. I've done what I can to persuade them that homosexuals are normal people, too. They just want to be happy, same as anyone else. We can disagree with their life choices, and still love the good people that they are.

Most Latter-Day Saints already understand this. We're not a bigoted, hateful bunch. We tend to be pretty open-minded, and while of course none of us is anywhere near perfect, we do try to live the way Christ would want us to. He is our God, our perfect example. He loves everyone, no matter what choices they make in their lives. He does, however, also ask us to do our best to follow Him in all things. Marriage is central to His plan for mankind, and as such, needs to be protected.

Anyway, all the hate and the torment that the Saints in California are being subjected to is terrible. They committed no crime, they just stood up for what they believed in. The thought of the temple becoming a place where people are afraid to go is just wrong. The temple is a place of joy, a place of peace, a place where you go to feel close to God. Having vengeful protesters outside ruins the spirit of the place.

I'm glad I'm not living in California, although I probably will end up there at some point, being a military wife and all. But even though I'm not there, I feel literally sick about what's happening, for both sides. The gay community feels hurt, which I completely understand. Their reaction toward the Mormons is awful, and also depressing. No one is winning this fight, no one is happy. Why can't we all just fight for what we believe in through the courts and the government? Why make it personal? That certainly wasn't the intent of the LDS church - we're fighting for marriage, not against homosexuals. If there was a way to resolve this so everyone was happy, we'd jump on it. I know I certainly don't want my friends to feel hurt or offended. I'm not so naive to think they won't feel that way, though. I've been forced to choose between my gay friends and my faith. It's a clear choice, but I do love my friends and hope they don't let this come between us.

Honestly, what with everything happening at once, I haven't been able to eat much the past couple of days. I've been lightheaded, shaky, and just nervous in general. I know that life in this world can be scary and difficult, but it seems to be getting worse at an alarming rate lately. I worry about my kids, and what they're going to have to face in their lives.

I'm sure things will blow over eventually, and life will return to a happy normalcy. Things may still be bad out there in the world, but in my own little bubble with my family I'll be content again. I'm sincerely looking forward to that day. In the meantime, all I can say is, "What a world, what a world!"

Tribute

Here we go. Last time I had a blog, and I wrote down how I was feeling about something (the good as well as the bad), a number of crazy people stumbled across it and decided I was worthless as a human being. Naturally, I had forgotten that normal people don't admit their shortcomings. We're all supposed to pretend we're perfect. My mistake.

Anyway, these particular crazy people decided that it was up to them to let me know just how horrible I really am. Anonymously. I'm guessing bravery isn't compatible with crazy, at least in the blog-commenting universe. I was pretty angry, since I wasn't writing this stuff down for their benefit in the first place. As you can probably tell by my kind words of welcome to the right on my page, I hope not to see the likes of it again. If people are friends or family members, I'm glad they're reading. If people want to read my blog because they're curious about life in the Air Force, that's fine. If people read it to see how I cope as a wife and mother, I'm okay with that. If the people reading it are looking for real insight into the mind of an ordinary, every day kind of girl, they're welcome to read on. If their goal in reading my blog is to find negatives and point them out in the most rude and cowardly way they can think of, they need to get a life and move on.

Some people like to think they're smarter and better than everyone else. Some people are, in fact, smarter and better. But usually they're not the ones who go out of their way to try and point it out. The ones who try to pull themselves up by searching out blogs and posting rude comments are generally the kind who live in their parents' basements, eating Cheetos and day-old cold pizza, in the same pair of sweatpants they've had on for a week while they cruise singles websites for hot babes (male or female) that are really into Dungeons and Dragons and will love them for their superior wit and lack of hygiene.

With any luck, those crazies will stay away from this blog.

DO YOU HEAR ME, CRAZY PEOPLE???? GET LOST!!!

Okay.

The reason I decided to start my blog up again was this: I'm moving. I'm really excited to be leaving Utah, but I'm not thrilled about leaving my sibs behind. It was hard going away to college, but at least then the rest of my family was in the same country and I got to see them once or twice a year for extended time. Now Mom, Dad, and Joseph are living in Kenya and everyone else is here in Utah. It's been wonderful being so close to Andrew, Daniel and Lyssa. They're my best friends. They always have been, even when we were growing up and we sometimes hated each other. They've been the people in my life that I've always been able to rely on, no matter what.

Growing up moving around so much was hard, and I remember that we hated it with all the firey passion of hell. But looking back on it, I feel so fortunate that I was raised that way. Rather than finding my lifelong friends at school or through church, I found them right in my own home. If I wasn't leaving my school and church friends behind every couple of years, I probably wouldn't have ever really noticed my siblings. I'm so glad that I did.

Andrew is one of the funniest people I've ever met in my life, and I'm not just saying that because he's my brother. He's the only person who has ever successfully made me squirt milk out my nose. Even when I was really angry with him, I always ended up laughing. I remember that I would be so angry that I'd scream at him, and in response he'd pull this demented face (mocking mine, I'm sure), and scream incoherently back at me. It was infuriating, being so mad and having to choke back laughter at the same time. Before I knew it, I wasn't mad any more. I was just laughing.

Andrew is going to be a famous cartoonist one day, either through his comic strips or as an animator for Pixar. He's got so much incredible talent. There may be some people out there who can draw a little better (not many, though, I'd wager), but I doubt there are any that have the same combination of artistic ability and humor. If Pixar were ever to sign him on, they would be a lucky company indeed. His brand of humor would fit in seamlessly, and make their films even funnier than they already are.

I'm so proud of Andrew. He's tall, handsome, talented, smart, and he has good strong morals. I don't think there are any future "Mrs. Andrew"s on the horizon, but when he does get married one day, the woman who wins his heart will be extremely lucky - and will have no doubt of it. He's one of my very favorite brothers.

Another favorite is Daniel. He and I have always been close, probably because we're 7 years apart. Andrew and Lyssa were too close to me in age, they were competition growing up. Daniel just loved me, and I loved him. More than any of the other siblings, he would do whatever I asked. If I wanted a glass of water, he would get up and get me one. I realize this makes me sound like a cruel older sister, bossing him around, but I don't think it was that way. He would do things for me, and I would do things for him.

Now that Daniel is grown up and almost 19, he's still one of my absolute favorite brothers. He somehow grew up a lot less nerdy than the rest of us. While we were getting gum put in our hair, he was smooching the cute girl in his kindergarten class on the bus home. While we were singing and dancing onstage like the theater weirdos we are, he was bringing home sports trophies. While we got teased, he made friends. He was always the coolest of the kids in my family. That certainly hasn't changed, although I admit the rest of us have become pretty hip as well. He has us beat by a wide margin.

Daniel is one of the sweetest kids in the world. He always stops by for a visit when he's in town. He babysat my daughter for a week while my husband and I went on vacation for our anniversary. He spent an entire summer last year watching our daughter at night so we could be in a musical theater production. He's completely selfless. He's also extremely funny, strong, handsome, talented, and has good morals. Those are some things that my brothers have in common. They're just good, amazing people.

I'm going to miss Daniel like crazy when I move. I feel a little cheated of time with him, seeing as how I left for college when he was 11. Now that we're living in the same area again, I'm leaving. It's sad. I would really like to be able to get to know him more now, as an adult. Most of my fond memories are from childhood. I missed his teenage angst years completely. Now he's this incredible young man, and I don't know him as well as I wish I did. I know him well enough to know that I love him, and that he's amazing. Because of that, I wish I had more time to learn even more. I've seen so many great things about him, it would be nice to be able to see even deeper (No "that's what she said" joke, Daniel!). He's got a great heart.

My sister just got married in August. I'm so proud of her. Lyssa has always been like my conscience, telling me (and the boys) when we were doing things that were stupid. Growing up, we didn't like that a lot. But looking back, I'm so grateful that she was like that. She probably kept us on the straight and narrow more than we did on our own. I wish I had been kinder to her growing up. I guess she was always my greatest competition when we were children, the other daughter. She was prettier than me, more outgoing than me, sweeter than me... everyone loved her. It was hard to stand next to her and feel like I was a disappointment. I know that wasn't the case, and she would be mad if she knew I felt that way (which I guess will happen when she reads this), but that's how it felt at the time. I was a little jealous and in awe of her, all at the same time.

So of course I teased her mercilessly. It probably didn't help that her sweetness made her prone to getting upset when we teased her. The boys would tease back, and make it fun. Lyssa, when she was little, had a hard time with that. I'm thrilled to say that, as she got older, she started giving as good as she was given. I remember the first time I teased her about something, and she zinged me right back. I don't remember the specifics, just a sense of shock and pride. I was so excited! She was finally dishing it back - and she was good. Very good.

Lyssa has become one of the funniest people I know (they all seem to be family members. Weird, huh? I guess I just have a hilarious family). Yet she's still as beautiful, sweet, and good-hearted as she was growing up. She has, I admit, developed a taste (obsession?) for violent contact sports, but I suppose nobody's perfect. :D Just kidding, Lu. I think it's great.

Anyway, this past August she got married to Lewis Young. Since I call her Lu, and he is also a Lew (same sound, different spellings), they are now officially "Two Lou Young". (see how I went with a completely different spelling of "Lou" so as to not play favorites?) I like the sound of it, it sounds like an Asian entree. "Yes, I'd like some lo mein, a couple of eggrolls, and a side of two lou young." He's a great guy. He's smart enough to realize how lucky he is to be married to my sister.

They'll make great parents one day. I know they're not in any rush, and it's probably smart to worry about graduating from college first, but it's exciting to know that someday they will have kids, and they'll be incredible parents. That's one thing I've always known about Lyssa. She will be a mother to put all other mothers to shame. Those are some lucky future kids.

Lyssa is probably the one person, besides Ben, that I can tell anything to. I can tell her things that I'd feel weird telling my mom, and I tell my mom everything. I once told Lyssa that I knew that if anything bad happened to me, or Ben, or Evie, she'd be there in a heartbeat. No matter how far away I was living, she'd be there as fast as she possibly could. I still have no doubts about that. Her capacity for empathy is unbelievable. If Ben died fighting in Afghanistan, or Evie got sick and had to be put in the hospital, Lyssa would be there. She'd have her arms around me, one hand patting my back, telling me that everything will be all right. She'd probably even be crying with me. She sees into people's hearts better than anyone I know. She understands what they're feeling, and is able to mourn with those that mourn. She also understands people's joy. That's why she's such a great friend, and an incredible sister. My favorite sister, in fact!

I have the two absolute best parents in the world, and a baby brother (okay, he's 8) that I want to steal and keep forever because he's so adorable, but this entry isn't about them. (Sorry, Mom, Dad and Joseph!!!) I'm sure I'll write about them another time. But this blog is about the three amazing, life-changing, beautiful people that I'm leaving behind when I move.

They're the siblings that I grew up with, the three people (non-parent) that most shaped the person I am today. All the best things about me are in good part thanks to them. Having them in my life, my three best friends, has been a blessing of epic proportions. Leaving them behind is painful. Just saying goodbye after a lunch date or surprise visit, even when I still have a few weeks left, is hard. I know that I only have so many chances to spend time with them before I move.

Moving will be good, my little family and I will have great adventures (and hopefully a few more kids). We'll meet new people and learn new things. But it's still hard to leave Andrew, Lyssa, and Daniel behind. I have no doubt that I'll see them all again, it just won't be as frequent as I've grown accustomed to. I'm going to miss them like crazy.

I love you guys.