Chocolatey Thoughts

Heartache - A Poem About Infertility

2012-01-29T13:02:00.000-07:00

This is dedicated to all of the women who ever have, or ever will be in my shoes. Infertility - even secondary infertility, like mine - is an incredibly difficult cross to bear, and I definitely think it's okay if we just need to break down and cry sometimes.

You can always be strong again tomorrow.

**********

My heart is aching, eyes are wet,
Sometimes I wish I could forget.
Not be reminded every day
Of things too painful to convey.

I smile so big and act so strong,
Most people don’t know something’s wrong.
That underneath my cheerful air,
My soul is weeping in despair.

My husband tries to bear the load;
Relieve my burden on life’s road.
But behind his smile, I see a frown.
I wonder if I’ve let him down?

I know he’s hurting, just like me.
How different his own path could be!
If he had wed a different wife,
Would he have had more joy in life?

But, no, he loves me; that I know.
He’d never choose to let me go.
Through thick and thin, he’s by my side,
Exactly as he would decide.

My daughter prays in bed each night,
For God to change her lonely plight.
She plays alone, she’s often blue.
My struggle is her sorrow, too.

She asks me almost every day,
When things will finally go her way?
My heart breaks every time she asks.
I cannot give her what she lacks.

Most days I’m strong. My faith is sure.
I try with patience to endure.
But being strong has got its cost,
For there are days when strength is lost;

When doubts creep in, and then reside
Inside my thoughts where I can’t hide.
They eat away at faith and hope,
Until I can no longer cope.

What if I’m broken? Can’t be healed?
What if my heavy fate is sealed?
My hopes, so high, once more will fall.
What if I can’t be fixed at all?

Each time this trial seems nearly done,
Another problem has begun.
I work to keep despair at bay,
But anguish drives my hope away.

Most days I’m fine, my smile is real.
But days like this need time to heal.
These painful days when faith is low
Can deal my heart a heavy blow.

So, for today, my strength is weak.
My heart may ache, my eyes may leak.
But peace and faith can follow sorrow.

I will be strong again tomorrow.

Tribute to Mary

2011-12-19T15:18:00.000-07:00

Is it just me, or does Christmas feel like it came about two months early this year? It does not feel like Christmastime to me. I've been struggling to get into the spirit of the holiday as a result.

But don't get me wrong, I still love Christmas. It truly is the very best time of the year. I've had the privilege of putting together two Christmas programs for my church this year - one for our ward Christmas party, and one for Christmas Day.

It's been incredibly rewarding to be a part of all that. Nothing brings the Spirit like music does, so naturally, I included a lot of it in both programs.

The first one was performed at our ward party back at the beginning of the month. I originally wanted to get a young couple in our ward with a brand-new baby to play Mary and Joseph, but they weren't sure they would be able to come. So I tried another couple, who also had a baby. But they were going to be doing something else for the party that night, and wouldn't be able to play Mary and Joseph. So, it ended up being my husband and me playing the parts, with the loan of another couple's baby as the infant Jesus.

I've always loved Mary. In every account in the scriptures that involves her, she comes across as a woman of incredible faith, grace, and courage. In the next life, she's one of the people I most would like to meet. This is a woman who, as a mere girl, accepted the charge to become the mother of the Son of God. I can't even imagine how incredible and terrifying that must have been. Aside from the whole "unwed mother" thing, and the gossip and scorn that came with it, there was the prospect of having to raise the Son of God. Mothers are the greatest influence in their children's lives, and raising any child is a challenge. To raise the Savior... that had to have been an awful lot of pressure for her. But she didn't hesitate. She gracefully accepted the call, and the rest is history.

One of my favorite scriptures about Mary comes from a passage about the Savior in the Book of Mormon (Mosiah 3:5-8). It says, "And he shall cast out devils, or the evil spirits which dwell in the hearts of the children of men.

“And lo, he shall suffer temptations, and pain of body, hunger, thirst, and fatigue, even more than man can suffer, except it be unto death; for behold, blood cometh from every pore, so great shall be his anguish for the wickedness and the abominations of his people.

“And he shall be called Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Father of heaven and earth, the Creator of all things from the beginning; and his mother shall be called Mary.”

That's it. That's all it says about her. Just, "...and his mother shall be called Mary." But when you put it into context with the rest of the passage, it's truly beautiful. The passage is all about the Son of God, and the works He would perform. Its purpose is to illustrate just how magnificent Christ is. And the fact that it ends with a mention of His mother tells me that her part was not merely to bring Him into being. She truly, literally, was His mother. She raised Him, and taught Him, and helped Him on His path. She wasn't just a minor character in the Savior's life. She was part of its very center.

It was an honor to portray her in our Christmas program. Sitting in our decorative stable, gazing at the baby in my arms and picturing what Mary must have been feeling... it touched me deeply. I'm so grateful for that amazing woman, and her part in the Savior's story. I hope to be able to have the kind of faith that she did, and answer every call from God, big or small, with the same kind of unwavering obedience. And though I'm not in any hurry to depart this life, I do look forward to the next, when I can meet her face-to-face and thank her for everything she did to help make the Savior's life and sacrifice possible.

Merry Christmas!

My little angel poses with the stable.

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Twenty-Four

2011-11-24T18:58:00.000-07:00

Today is the last "day of Thanksgiving" here on my blog, at least for this year. I have to say, it's been a lot of fun writing these. There were very few days where I struggled to think of something to write about. I have a lot to be grateful for in my life. It's been nice to be so reminded of that fact.

Since this is the last day, I decided to write about the one person I'm more thankful for than anyone else. This person is the direct center of my heart, and the supreme example of who I want to be. He's done more for me than I can possibly imagine, and continues to help, love, and fight for me even now. He made it possible for me to have the experiences I've had in this life, and for me to fix my mistakes. He gave me my family, and paid the price so that I can be with them forever. I owe Him everything, and I will never be able to repay that debt.

But He loves me anyway!

I'm talking, of course, about my Savior, Jesus Christ.

I thought it especially appropriate to end my "days of thanksgiving" blog entries with Him, as not only is He the most important thing in my life, but also because as Thanksgiving ends, the Christmas season begins. And, as they say, "He's the reason for the season."

It's with a heart full of love and gratitude towards my Savior that I turn my thoughts to Christmastime, and the miracle of His birth.

I've had the opportunity over the past few days to put together two Christmas programs. One is for the nativity program at our Christmas party, and the other is the program for church on Christmas Day. I suppose I get chosen for these things because I'm good with music, theater, and writing. And also, because I volunteer.

But it's truly been wonderful to be immersed in the nativity story. As I've written the programs, and searched the scriptures for appropriate verses, and thought about what songs would fit best with what part of the story, and pondered the story itself, I've felt the Spirit so powerfully. Every time I read this, for example, I'm filled all over again with a burning love for the Savior and a desire to do anything and everything He asks of me:

“He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

“Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.

“But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.” - Isaiah 53:3-5

I'm grateful for the opportunity I have for the next month to be reminded of the Savior's birth on a constant basis. I'm grateful for this time of year, when people cast aside their typical distrust and indifference, and try to be more Christlike people. I'm grateful for my faith, and the knowledge that I have that the Savior is the literal Son of God, and that He lives.

And more than anything, I'm grateful for Jesus Christ. I would be nothing without Him.

“For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.”

- Isaiah 9:6

(Pictures from the lds.org media library)

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Twenty-Three

2011-11-23T17:19:00.000-07:00

I love my husband, and I think he's pretty much perfect. But today, I discovered one major flaw.

He thinks the movie, "The Tooth Fairy," isn't bad for a mediocre film.

But he's wrong. It's terrible.

Even so, I think I can look past that flaw. He did watch it for the first time on his deployment, after all, when he was far from home, bored, lonely, and probably a little bit crazy. So we'll give him the benefit of the doubt on the topic and just let it go.

He's worth it, after all. He's the handsomest, sweetest, most devoted husband on the planet.

I didn't always have such a high opinion of him, though. When we first started dating, I really only saw him as my ex-boyfriend's little brother.

Yes, I dated his older brother. It wasn't a long relationship, and we were mostly just good friends anyway, so no, it's not that big of a deal.

Anyway, because he was my ex's younger brother, and because he was younger than me (by 11 months), I didn't take him too seriously. I just thought of him as kind of a nerdy kid.

Yeah, he's still kind of nerdy. But I love it. :)

In my defense, he was incredibly nerdy. He still is, as a matter of fact. He loves science fiction and fantasy, he's good at math, he stands with his feet in third position like a ballet dancer whenever he's just standing around talking to people, he does musical theater (and does it well!), he ballroom dances, he was in marching band in high school and college, he enjoys watching ballet, he doesn't care much about sports (except soccer), and when we first met, back when I was dating his brother, Ben wore cargo shorts with a hawaiian-print shirt, knee socks, sneakers, and a fishing hat.

He sounds dreamy, huh? ;)

It was a few years later that we started dating, and none of that had really changed. Although because he had been on a mission for a few years, his clothing options were even more limited, and he truly had no clothes that fit him correctly.

He was sweet, though, and handsome once you got past his clothes, so I agreed to go out with him.

I also took him shopping.

To my surprise, he cleaned up very well! He looked so handsome in his new, properly-fitting clothes that my heart sped up a little.

Still, I had my doubts that our relationship would go anywhere. I still was thinking of him as my ex's little brother, I guess, rather than as a man.

Imagine my surprise when, after just a few dates, he asked me to be his girlfriend.

I tentatively decided to give it a try. I had enjoyed my time with him, although it had been awkward at times, so I thought it was worth a shot.

Then, a few days after that, he dropped the bomb on me.

"We're either going to break up or get married. Why don't we figure out which one it is?"

Clearly, we're made for each other

Have you ever heard anything so romantic?

But somehow, possibly because he had caught me so off guard, I agreed to fast and pray about it with him.

We spent a lot of our day together that day, just talking and getting to know each other more. Finally he had forced me to see him, not as my ex's little brother, but as a man who was considering proposing to me.

And I was considering accepting.

Over the course of our conversation, we found ourselves sharing memories and explaining traditions our families had for Christmas. As we talked about those traditions, I realized we were discussing how we would incorporate those traditions into our own family, with our own children.

I realized that I had my answer.

The thought of us celebrating Christmas together, creating our own traditions, felt right. It was so easy, comfortable, and natural. It felt like the most obvious thing in the world.

Acting out the Nativity

A little while later, Ben went home. After he was gone, I found myself growing giddy and excited. I knew that I had my answer, and that Ben and I were going to get married. He had no idea that I'd received my answer, so I was the only one who knew I would be getting engaged soon.

I had to tell someone!!!!

So I ran down the hall to my friend's apartment. I guess that means that, officially, she knew about it even before the groom did.

Funnily enough, the same thing happened when I found out I was pregnant with Evie. Ben wasn't home, so I ran next door and told my friend. Poor Ben. He should really be the first to know these things, but he's been cursed with a wife who can't keep a secret!

The next day we got back together, and discussed the results of our fasting and prayer. Of course, we were on the same page. There was no ring, no date, no kind of official plan yet... but there was a commitment.

We were engaged.

And I haven't seen him as my ex's little brother since. At least, not for more than the occasional very strange second or two.

Halloween 2011

He's not so nerdy to me anymore, either. All of those "nerdy" aspects are just... Ben. They're just part of who he is. And I love him more than life itself, so all of those nerdy traits have become endearing.

Let's face it, he has plenty of "cool" in him, too. He's a freaking Air Force pilot, for crying out loud! And he's planning to go to med school and become a doctor. And he's good at video games, great at composing music and picking out harmonies, he can play the guitar and the drums, he's a great singer and actor, he sometimes runs a 10k every day just for fun, he's an incredible husband and father, and he's insanely handsome.

And, for some inexplicable reason, he's madly in love with me. I know without a doubt that he would literally do anything for me. And I also know without a doubt that he will never leave me. We will be together forever.

Ben is the ultimate proof that God loves me. No matter how good I've been in my life, there's no way I could have been good enough to deserve a husband like Ben. I'm pretty sure it's impossible to be that good.

But somehow he ended up in my life, and fell in love with me. Of all the girls in the world, Ben fell in love with me!!! It doesn't make sense! All I can figure is that God must love me a whole lot, to have given me Ben.

I love you, Ben. You're my heart, my soul, my universe.

And let's face it - I'm totally a sucker for nerdy guys. :)

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Twenty-Two

2011-11-22T19:47:00.002-07:00

Today was already the day I was planning to talk about my little girl, but it seems especially appropriate as I'm feeling my infertility very keenly today.

That's not to say that I'm getting down on myself for being fertile, or angry at God, or feeling bitter toward my pregnant friends like I used to. Thankfully, I've grown beyond all that. It took more than three years, but I did learn to accept God's will and timing. My heart is at peace.

But still, every once in a while I just feel it more. The longing for more children. The wistfulness as I watch most of my friends pass me by. The ache in my heart as I hear my daughter tell me how badly she wants brothers and sisters.

I don't think that makes me a bad person. I think it just makes me human.

And most of all, I feel an overwhelming love and gratitude for the angel child that I do have, my little girl, Evelyn.

She is truly the most beautiful, sweet, charming, lovable little girl I have ever met. Granted, I'm completely biased, but I'm totally okay with that.

The many moods of Evie

From the time she was a baby, Evie has been enchanting me. She's always had a cheerful personality, and once she learned to talk we discovered that she had a great sense of humor as well. Here are just a few of the quotes I've recorded from her over the years:

Age Two (barely)

(Quoting Shrek 2, because when she was first learning to speak she often communicated in movie quotes) "Mama! For five minutes, not be self??? FOR FIVE MINUTES!!!"

"The moon is following us! It's intolerable!"

Riding the horse at May Farm during her 5th birthday party

Age Three

"Monsters don't speak 'horsie.'"

(At bedtime)
"Mama, don't leave! I'll get scared!"
"Scared of what?"
"Scared of... something dangerous!"

(When asked if she wanted to bear her testimony in church)
"Testimonies are not for me!"

"The clouds keep the sun warm."

"I'm not a angel! I'm a dog."

Me: "How many squishy hugs do you want tonight, Evie?"
Evie: "Um, three."
Me: "How many big ones and how many little ones?"
Evie: "Two little and one big."
Me: "Wha-? Whoa! That was basic math! When did you learn that???"

"I'm not a angel, I'm a small donkey."

"I'm not cute! I'm amazing!"

"My mom is a mean mom. She makes me eat healthy food."

(As part of a game)
Me: "Who would you not want to be stuck in an elevator with?"
Evie: "Hmmm... A dinosaur."

"I love my mom, because she took a shower."

Me: "What's the opposite of aunt?"
Evie: "Millipede?"

(When Evie was learning about the differences between boys and girls)
Me: "What do boys have that girls don't have?"
Evie: "...a hairy bum?"

At the Renaissance Festival

Age Four:

(To Ben) Evie: "You're a cheater!"
Ben: "What do you think 'cheat' means?"
Evie: "It's when you frustrate your daughter!"

"My nose is drooling!"

"Mom! Mom! Mom!"
"What?"
"My feet smell like bread."

"Mom, one time in my bathroom there was a very small centerpiece bug, but I killed it."

(First day of Ben's deployment, Evie woke up crying because he was gone)
Me: "We'll have lots of fun while Daddy is gone. We're going to go to Idaho in three weeks!"
Evie: "But Daddy isn't in Idaho!!!"

"Mom, my neck hurts."
"Bummer! Why does it hurt?"
"I dunno. Maybe birds pecked at it."

(After her cousin, Jack, was born)
"Jack is so cute I'm gonna explode, but not for real."

Evie: "Mom, do I get to eat dinner, too?"
Me: "No, you don't get to eat anymore. We're going to let you waste away to nothing."
Evie: (glaring at me) "You know I take karate."

Earning her first stripe in karate

Age Five:

(singing)
"Nothin' gonna jingle till ya jingle your teeth! That's the jingle bell rock!"

"Mom, your dress has squares on it! Squares are ugly."

"God created men to help the women make babies."

(After her hamster, Dave, died)
"Now he's in his little hamster cage in heaven!"

(While I was goofing around, wearing a scarf on my head like a turban)
Me: "Do I look pretty?"
Ben: "Yep. You always look pretty."
Evie: "No, you don't. He's just lying."

Haha! Oh, man, that kid. She cracks me up. And clearly, now that we've got "honesty" down, it's time to work on "tact."

In her prize-winning Mad Hatter Halloween costume

Evie has gotten even more interesting as she's gotten older. She's always enchanted me, but now she boggles me, too. Her latest thing is an obsession with "fanciness." She will only wear clothes that she thinks are fancy, and has started going by "Evelyn" rather than "Evie," at least at school. I always forget and call her "Evie."

She's also very concerned with being the best at everything. I'm trying to teach her that it doesn't matter if you're better than everyone else, as long as you're the very best "you" you can be. She's not really catching on to it yet, though. She gets very upset whenever somebody beats her at something, and if I dare to compliment any other little girls she acts like I've insulted her somehow.

I'm glad she's got a good sense of self-esteem. On the other hand, I'm wondering what more I can do to get the lessons on "good sportsmanship" and "humility" to sink in.

Hopefully this is just a phase!

Aside from all that, though, she's darn near perfect. I suppose it's no wonder she's got so much confidence. She's gorgeous. She's outgoing and friendly. She's smart. She's a talented dancer. She's photogenic. She's got a fantastic memory. She's creative. She's got a strong testimony. She's adorable. And she's definitely precocious.

Did I mention that she's had more than one boy fight for her attention?

Heaven help us when she becomes a teenager!

Evie and her "boyfriend," Evan.
("But not a kissing boyfriend, Mom!")

I'm so proud of her, though. She brings so much joy to my life. And one of the best qualities about her is one she hasn't been able to develop much yet, but hopefully will in the future: she's going to be a great big sister.

She has been praying for brothers and sisters for a couple of years now. She loves babies, and she's very sweet with them. She's generally helpful around the house, and is always willing to fetch things for me. She's extremely aware of what's safe and what's not, and she's not afraid to let others know when they're doing something dangerous.

Evie is seriously going to be the world's best big sister. As heartbreaking as it is that it's taking so long for that dream to come true, I know that it will happen eventually. And when it does, Evie will be there, helping me with every new baby, making things a little easier.

I love her to the moon and back again.

She's my angel.

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Twenty-One

2011-11-21T13:05:00.000-07:00

My life has been a fairly easy one. That's not to say that I've never had trials, because of course, everyone does. But mine have never been so unbearable that I couldn't handle them. And while I know that this is partly because none of my trials have been a very big deal, I also know that this is partly because of the way my parents raised me.

My parents raised me to have a strong testimony of Heavenly Father, and His Son, Jesus Christ. Because of the faith they instilled in me as a child, I have a personal relationship with God as an adult. I know without a doubt that I can rely on God no matter what my struggles are, and He will give me the strength I need to get through them.

My parents had a framed poem in their home that I'm sure most of you are familiar with. It's called "Footprints in the Sand." For those of you who don't know it, here it is:

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.

In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there was one only.

This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints, so I said to the Lord,

“You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there has only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?”

The Lord replied, “The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you.”

- Mary Stevenson

Now, I don't know for sure if this is the exact version that hangs in my parents' home (apparently there are three versions), but the story is the same in all three.

And it gets me every time.

I can't remember a time when I didn't know this poem and the message in it. It's been hanging in my parents' house for as long as I can remember.

Along with that, there have always been pictures of the Savior, temples, and other things that remind people of God displayed in my parents' home.

My parents created a little piece of heaven on Earth, and that's where they raised my siblings and me. They surrounded us with reminders that we were God's children, and that we could turn to Him with any problem, big or small.

And my parents not only taught us through our environment, they taught us through their own wonderful examples.

I literally believe that I have the very best parents in the existence of ever. There is almost nothing I would change about them. Are they perfect? No. Nobody is. But they're about as close as it's possible for mere mortals to get.

My father was a perfect example, for me, of what a man is supposed to be. I watched the way he treated my mother, and knew that that was what I wanted in my own husband.

Father-of-the-bride and matron-of-honor
hangin' out at my sister's wedding.

My dad truly believes my mother is the most gorgeous woman on the planet. He adores her. When I was younger, I would always act disgusted when my parents showed any kind of affection in front of us, but really, I was proud that my parents were so in love with each other. And, as the years have gone by, I've become even more aware of just how much they really do love each other. My dad has frequently "confided" in me about just how gorgeous my mom is, probably because he can't help but brag about his wife.

Is it any surprise that I married a man who's a lot like my own dad? What woman wouldn't want to be adored like that?

On top of that, my dad was wonderful with me and my siblings as well. I can't even count the times he made me laugh, or called me "sweetie," or bought us a treat at the grocery store "just because."

Wise man say, "Bring underwater camera to family reunion,
create many goofy memories!"

He was also my role model for what a husband should be when it came to fulfilling his calling as a priesthood holder.

Dad always took charge when it was time for family prayer, or family home evening. Even when the kids were being grumpy or difficult, he made sure we got it done. And I know we were better because of it.

He was always willing to give us a blessing as well, any time we needed one. I got a father's blessing every year when school started. And I know that those blessings helped give me the courage to face the school year more than once.

How Ben ever worked up the courage to ask for my hand,
I'll never know.

One of my very favorite memories of my dad, though, is from my wedding day.

We were at the reception, and my dad and I were performing the traditional daddy-daughter dance. The song was "Butterfly Kisses," and I knew that I would probably cry. But my mom was hovering nearby with a camera, just waiting for the waterworks to start, so my dad and I agreed that we would try to thwart her by keeping our emotions in check.

Near the end of the dance, my dad told me, "I always hoped that you would find a man who would love you as much as I love your mom. I'm so happy that you have."

And that did it. We both started crying like babies. My mom had put away her camera by then, though, so we still managed to thwart her. ;)

I love my dad so much. Until about seven years ago, he was the man in my life, and that's not something a girl just forgets. My dad is one of the most incredible people in the world, and I'm so blessed to be his daughter.

My dad is a pretty fantastic Gaffer, too!

No man is complete without a partner, though. Ideally, his partner is one who makes him his very best self. And my dad's perfect partner came in the form of a beautiful, loving, gentle angel.

I call her "Mom."

Isn't she beautiful?

My mother is who I want to be. On TV, people always laugh when a character does something crazy, then says, "Oh no! I'm turning into my mother!!!" But honestly, if I turn into my mother, I'll be totally proud.

My mom is my hero. I cannot remember a time in my life when she didn't treat me with love and kindness. That's not to say she never got mad at me. But when she did, it was totally justified. Every punishment she doled out to me was because I had a lesson that I needed to learn in order to grow.

And often, especially as I got older, the greatest punishment came from the disappointment in her eyes when I made a bad decision. I hated to see her look disappointed. It was agony. I loved my mom so much, that I just wanted her to be proud of me all the time. Unfortunately, I wasn't always worthy of it. What teenager is? But even during those moments when she was disappointed in me, I knew that her disappointment came from her love. She knew what I had the potential to achieve, and to be. She knew that I was capable of more. Even now, she sees more greatness in me than I'll ever see in myself.

Reading "Too Many Daves" to her nieces, nephew, and granddaughter

My mom always filled our house with warmth, love, and good smells. We always had family dinner together. Now that I'm a mom myself, I realize what a Herculean task that must have been for my mother. There are many days where I just don't have it in me to cook a meal and have it ready at a decent time for my family. We often end up eating grilled cheese and applesauce. But that was never the case when I was growing up. No matter what my mom was dealing with in her day-to-day life, we almost always had a hot, home-cooked dinner together.

Those dinners together brought us closer as a family, too, I believe. We were able to get together every day, talk about what was going on in our lives, and laugh together. And even when we were cranky, or being forced to eat something we didn't like, we couldn't deny that our food was made with love. And we were grateful for that love.

Three generations enjoying Disneyland together

It's difficult to explain how great my mom is with examples like "home cooking" and "well-deserved punishments." I don't feel like I'm doing her justice. I suppose anyone who's had a mom like mine will understand, though.

Joseph, Evie and Mom. They're such good sports. :)

One last note about my mom: she's totally, awesomely, hysterically weird. I mean, she and my dad would both almost have to be, considering how my siblings and I all turned out. But truly, she's delightfully weird.

I remember seven years ago, I was home for Christmas. "Home" at the time was Bucharest, Romania. I was engaged to Ben, and feeling generally giddy. My sister and I started joking around with each other about whatever we were doing at the time.

"That looks weird."

"You look weird!"

"Your face looks weird!"

Right around then, my mom popped into the kitchen and announced, "Your mom's face looks weird!"

Yeah, she's rockin' that hat.

She's awesome. :) I think that pretty much clears things up on that subject, right?

To sum up: I, Cassie, have been blessed with goodly parents. I seriously cannot imagine anyone having better parents than my own. I feel bad for all the people in the world who don't have my parents, my own child included (she gets to have them as grandparents, though, so I guess she'll be all right). I'm sure that lots of people have fantastic parents - my husband, for example, has phenomenal parents! - but still.

Mine are the best.

I love you, Mom and Dad.

Mom, Joseph, Lyssa, Dad and Evie at our family reunion in Park City

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Twenty

2011-11-20T19:32:00.006-07:00

"The time has come," the walrus said, "to talk of other things! Of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings! And why the sea is boiling hot - and whether pigs have wings."

Shoes - They keep your feet warm and dry. Two thumbs up.

Ships - I'm all for them, especially if they're of the "cruise" variety. I'd really enjoy getting to know more about that particular subject.

Sealing wax - I really have no opinion on this.

Cabbages - I can take 'em or leave 'em, really. But hooray for veggies!

Kings - I prefer a democratic society.

Why the sea is boiling hot - It's probably because the sun sinks down into it at the end of every day.

Whether pigs have wings - My guess would be, "Only if they've been drinking Red Bull."

And now, onto other "other things."

Namely, my siblings!

My brothers, during my sister's wedding.

I've already dedicated a post to my brother, Daniel, because it was his birthday on the twelfth. So if you need to read all about him, you can check out his post, here. The rest of this entry is dedicated to the other three crazies I'm delighted to call my siblings.

Let's take it from the top - namely, with Andrew, because he's the tallest.

Andrew is awesome. And that pretty much sums it up, but I'll go into greater detail anyway.

Andrew is my brother who's just younger than me in age. In spite of his youthfulness in comparison to myself, he has been taller than me for about half of my life. He's living proof that "younger" doesn't necessarily mean "shorter" - something I'm still trying to explain to my five-year-old.

Did I mention that his face is made of rubber?

Granted, all my other siblings are proof of the same thing. I guess I'm just short.

Anyway, Andrew is one of the most talented individuals I've ever met. He's very musical, although he doesn't play many instruments. He can sing, and he can pick out songs on the piano in spite of his limited training on that particular instrument. He's just got an ear for it. He's also a pretty good actor, and an incredible artist. He started drawing cartoons in high school. Every day when school let out he would hand me a wad of his latest cartoons, which I'd read on the bus ride home. They were delightfully funny. I still remember his comic strip about the streaking platypus, who got arrested for public indecency after shaving off all of his fur. And then there was the comic series about the beavers who decided to create their own country, which they named "Dam Nation." Good stuff.

Clearly, along with his artistic abilities, he's also got a great sense of humor. I literally laugh more when I'm around him than I do around anyone else. I think the first time I really realized how funny he was was when we were in London. He was 9 or 10 and I was 12. We were sitting around the table, drinking water and talking. I don't remember what he said, but I do remember laughing so hard that I spit water across the table, and possibly squirted a small quantity of it out of my nose.

Andrew "playing" with Evie (aka, letting her
squirt him with a water bottle)

Another of my fondest memories of him was when we were living in El Salvador. We had a pool in our backyard, and one day we were playing out there. We were all pretending to have imaginary friends who were playing mean tricks on us while we swam. My imaginary friend, "Fred" kept grabbing me by the leg and dragging me around the pool. Andrew announced to all of us that his imaginary friend "Snerdly" was allergic to water, and therefore would leave him alone.

About 30 minutes later, Andrew started shrieking and dunking himself in and out of the water. "Snerdly!!! Stop!!! Aaaah! Guys, Snerdly is trying to drown me!!!"

As Andrew dragged himself to the wall of the pool, I called him out. "I thought Snerdly was allergic to water!"

Andrew, with his eyes wide and frightened, turned to me and responded, "So did I!!!"

He's a quick one, that brother of mine. And as he's gotten older, he's only gotten funnier and awesomer. He's handsome, he speaks Russian, he's smart, he's fantastic with kids, and he's really a great catch. Whatever lady he decides to marry someday will be lucky indeed.

Then we have my sister, Alyssa. Growing up, she was always the pretty one. I was always completely jealous of how sweet and beautiful she was. Loving her just came naturally for everyone. People just adored her.

She even looks gorgeous when she's pregnant, underwater,
and wearing geek glasses!

I have to admit, jealousy wasn't a pretty color on me. I teased her a lot when we were kids, partly because I was jealous of her, and partly because it was easy to make her mad, and I thought it was funny. Kids can be mean, and I was no exception.

But I adored her at the same time. I hope she realized that at the time, and if not, I hope she realizes it now. She's my only sister, and I love her more than words can express.

My sister is every bit as fun and hilarious as my brothers, too. She can certainly hold her own. On top of that, she's smart, beautiful, talented, and a fantastic mom. She just had a baby back in September, and already I think she's a better mother than I am.

Chillin' like a couple of first-class citizens.

When she was a teenager, she had some health issues that led me to be concerned that she might have troubles with infertility when she grew up. I was completely distraught at the thought, because even then I knew that she was going to be a fantastic mom. The idea that she might have a hard time having kids was not an idea that I was willing to accept. So I prayed that she would be able to have kids.

And my prayers were answered! My adorable nephew, Jack, came along without any kind of undue tribulation. Instead, I'm the one who ended up with infertility problems. Go figure! But I would rather it was me than her anyway, so I figure it all worked out.

And with the birth of Lyssa's baby boy, she's already proving what I knew all along - that she had all the makings of an incredible mom. Alyssa is just naturally gifted in all the best "mom" qualities. The most important one, to me, is her gift for empathy. She always knows exactly how people are feeling, and how best to help them. Her heart goes out to anyone and everyone who's struggling. She truly has a heart of gold.

Lyssa, Lewis and Jack dressed as the Rubbles for Halloween

I suppose that I ought to mention her husband, Lewis, while I'm at it. He's every bit as fun and goofy as my other brothers, so he fits into our family pretty perfectly. He clearly worships my little sister, so that makes him a good guy in my book. On top of that, he's great with kids. And I'm not just talking about his son. He's an elementary school teacher! There aren't a whole lot of men who have the constitution to work with children all day, every day. But Lewis does it, and he does it well. He's an incredible husband to my little sis, and I'm grateful they found each other.

Next in line comes Daniel, but as I've already dedicated an entire post to him, I'll just say this and be done: Daniel is pretty much one of my favorite people in the entire world. I love that guy so much!

The baby of the family is Joseph. He's eleven. Since I'm twenty-nine, that shows what a huge age gap there is between the two of us. To be honest, when he was a baby, a lot of people assumed that I was his mom. I was almost 18 when he was born, so it was a logical conclusion.

So... yeah. This picture cracks me up. :)

Unfortunately, he was born the summer right before I left for college. It's not unfortunate that he was born - it's fantastic, because our family wasn't complete without him! - it's unfortunate because I only got a few months with him before I left home.

He was the sweetest, snuggliest baby. I still remember the Sunday before I left for college. He was being fussy, so Mom let me take him out into the hall. He was wearing these white footie pajamas with ducks or something on them, and a matching hat with bunny-ear thingies. He just curled up on my shoulder like a little kidney bean and calmed right down. I didn't want to give him up, though, so I just kept pacing up and down the hallways with him, snuggling him, and wishing I didn't have to leave him behind when I left for college. I knew I was going to miss seeing him grow up, and it pretty much broke my heart.

He was a ridiculously cute little kid, too. He had these huge blue eyes, soft blond hair that stood straight up, and chubby cheeks. He totally could have done Gerber commercials. Cutest kid in the world.

Now, of course, Joseph is eleven years old. He's in middle school, and in a couple of years he'll hit puberty and leave childhood far behind. And then I'll officially be the shortest person in the family.

For now, though, I can still call him my baby brother without making him mad. ;) And I'm so grateful that he came along, even though I had to miss so much of his growing-up years.

Joseph and Evie watching a movie together

For one thing, he's only six years older than Evie. So whenever we go visit my family, Evie has someone relatively close to her own age to play with. And she completely adores her uncle Joseph. He's her very favorite. He's a great sport about playing with her, too. Even when she's getting on his nerves, and he's tired of playing, he's still super sweet to her.

And one of my favorite Joseph stories comes from around the time when Evie was born.

Mom was trying to get Joseph excited about the prospect of becoming an uncle. She told him I was about to have the baby, and... he started to cry! My mom asked him what was wrong, and he said he didn't want to be an uncle. Eventually she figured out that he had it in his mind that, because his uncles were all grown-ups, when Evie was born he would turn "old" overnight!

Poor kid.

Joseph is a funny kid, who's talented, sweet, and great at science. And he introduced me to Phineas and Ferb, so I'll always be grateful for that. ;) He's one of the greatest kids in the world, and I can't wait to see what an incredible man he'll grow up to be.

I've truly been blessed when it comes to my family. My siblings are the best in the world. I truly wouldn't trade them for anyone. Each one of them holds a special place in my heart, and I'm so grateful that they'll be part of my family forever. God really must love me, to have blessed me with the brothers and sister that I have.

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Nineteen

2011-11-19T16:13:00.000-07:00

Today I want to talk about my extended family. That includes my grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, and in-laws.

I've always been blessed in my extended family. I grew up with two complete sets of grandparents, all of whom I knew loved me dearly. I still remember my Grandad (my dad's dad) teaching me how to walk up and down stairs correctly, one foot per step. He and my Granny were always ready with big hugs for me. And I remember that Granny frequently had a stash of doughnut holes on her kitchen table for us to pilfer. And she took it as her duty as a grandparent to spoil us rotten. :)

My mom's parents, whom I called "Grandma" and "Grandpa" are a couple of the most wonderful people I know. My grandpa has this way of wrapping his arms as far around you as they could go, and hugging you so tight that it felt like he might squeeze your stuffing out. Grandma often worried that the grandkids didn't like her, but we all loved her dearly. And as I've gotten older, I've been able to get to know her better. I've discovered that she's really a very funny lady. She plays a mean game of "Surprise Face." ;)

My aunts and uncles on both sides have always been very fun and loving. I was never completely comfortable with my cousins on my dad's side, maybe because I didn't really get the chance to get to know a lot of them, but my aunts and uncles were always some of my favorite people.

My aunts and uncles on my mom's side, though, often felt like closer relations than just "aunts" and "uncles." My mom is the second oldest child in her family, so a lot of her siblings don't feel that much older than me. It may help that they're such a fun-loving, goofy bunch, that it often doesn't seem like they ever really grew up completely. And my youngest aunts, Kathi and Kristi, always felt more like older sisters to me than aunts.

I know the cousins on my mom's side fairly well, too, because we have a big family reunion every year. It lasts about two days, and we have a whole variety of traditions. And because I'm older than all the cousins on that side, I've known almost all of them from the time they were babies. So we're fairly close.

I've been especially lucky in my in-laws. My husband's parents are two of the most kind, loving, wonderful people I've ever met. When I first met them, I told myself that I hoped I had in-laws like them one day. It wasn't until a few years later that I started dating my husband, so at the time, I didn't think there was any real possibility that they would be my in-laws someday. So I feel like I really lucked out there.

And since Ben and I got together, they really have felt like a second set of parents. I call them "Mom" and "Dad," and it feels natural. I love them dearly.

I love Ben's siblings, too. I'm especially close with the ones who were still living at home when Ben and I started dating. Those younger ones in particular feel like my own brothers and sisters. And while I haven't had the opportunity to get to know the older ones quite as well yet, I feel a little closer to them whenever I'm blessed to spend more time with them.

I wish I could go into details about every member of my extended family, and tell you all the wonderful things about each of them, but with ten aunts, nine uncles, four grandparents, two parents-in-law, eight brothers-in-law, six sisters-in-law, and a multitude of cousins, that would be a huge undertaking.

Let's just leave it at this: I'm incredibly blessed to have such a wonderful extended family, and I'm grateful for each and every one of them!

And I apologize if this blog entry seems muddled or strange. I've been really sick today, and everything is a little fuzzy. Sorry!

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Eighteen

2011-11-18T17:14:00.000-07:00

Say hello to my little friend.

Her name is Juleigh. She's a little loony, fairly funny, and all-around awesome.

I already dedicated a blog post to her, way back when we were first becoming friends, but she's definitely one of the things I'm most thankful for, so she gets another post! Lucky girl.

Our first Sunday in Abilene, we went to church. Because that's what we do. And guess who gave a talk that day! Yup, it was Juleigh.

My first impression of her was that she was very pretty, very mature, and way too cool for the likes of me. But she did mention in her talk that they had just moved there themselves, so I thought maybe we could become friends. Neither of us knew anyone else, after all.

A couple of weeks later, we ended up sitting next to each other in class. She introduced herself, and mentioned that her husband was our home teacher. It was a short, polite conversation, but I could sense that she was as lonely for friends in Abilene as I was. I could tell there was potential for friendship. I went home that day and told Ben that I had the feeling that I was going to become friends with the girl I sat next to in class.

Turns out, she went home and said the same thing to her husband! Already our minds were becoming one!

It still took us a little while to really get our friendship going. I think it's because I was intimidated by her. As I said, she was very pretty, very cool, and seemed very mature. I'm just a goofy, chubby kid. So even though I wanted to be friends, I was very worried that she would basically roll her eyes and laugh at me.

We got to know each other bit by bit through church and playgroups. We friended each other on Facebook, and were able to get to know each other a little more.

Then, one day, she started chatting with me on Facebook. I don't remember much about the conversation, except that it was long, goofy, and funny. I was giggling like a little girl the whole time I chatted with her, with a big, nerdy grin on my face.

And the rest is history.

Yes, I am aware of how insane I look in this picture.

I immediately knew that this was a friendship that would last for a long time. And after just one conversation, I felt like I had a new best friend. Abilene didn't seem quite so bleak and lonely anymore. And somehow, incredibly, I got the impression that she liked me as much as I liked her! Crazy, right???

We've been kind of inseparable ever since. We do crafts, throw parties, go shopping, do makeovers, have dinners, watch general conference, babysit each other's kids, chat online, hang out, and do a million other things together.

Dressed up for Boo at the Zoo

Our poor husbands have kind of been forced into a friendship with each other, because that's the only way they ever get to hang out with us. It's okay, though, because they get along well. And let's face it, it's not just women who need friends.

Juleigh is the best friend I've had in a long time, possibly ever. Part of me worries that once we move away from each other things will fizzle out. That's happened with a lot of my friendships over the years. And I hate to think that I might lose Juleigh as a friend.

At Evie's farm-themed birthday party

But if my gut feeling is right, we really with be friends forever. I can totally imagine us living in side-by-side mansions in heaven. This isn't the kind of friendship that you just forget about and leave behind.

Juleigh is the kind of friend who comes along about once in a century or so. I truly love her like a sister. I totally want to take her home to meet my parents! And, as a matter of fact, I'm going to! We're planning a trip to visit my family in Uruguay next year! My only concern there is that my parents will like Juleigh more than they like me.

Not that I'd blame them. ;)

At the Fall Fest ward activity, ready to give
Brother Woods a pie in the face!

I'm so incredibly grateful for Juleigh, and for her friendship, that there truly aren't sufficient words. I was dreading living in Abilene, because it was so far from my family, and Ben was going to be gone so much with the military. But as it turns out, I'm one hundred percent grateful that I moved here, because I never would have met Juleigh otherwise.

Thanks for being my friend, Juleigh. You're the best. :)

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Seventeen

2011-11-17T13:00:00.001-07:00

Today, I'd like to talk about all the friends that have blessed my life.

Obviously, I can't talk about every single person I've ever had the honor of calling my friend, because that would take forever! But I can talk about what they've meant to me.

I've lived all over the world, which means that I've had the privilege of getting to know many, many different people. I didn't get along with everybody I met, of course, but the majority of the people I got to know became friends.

Friends are so important. No matter how wonderful your family may be, or how many talents you have, or how much you enjoy solitary activities (like reading), life isn't complete without friends.

Everyone needs someone they can talk to, laugh with, and lean on. Family may fill this position for a lot of people, but what happens when it's your family that's driving you crazy? You need a friend who's outside the situation, who can lend some perspective.

Plus, you can be a different, better version of yourself with your friends. Every time you make a new friend, you get a chance to make a new impression. You can put your best foot forward. They don't know what mistakes you've made. They don't know your darkest secrets. They don't have any memories of you doing embarrassing things as a child. It's a clean slate!

The best friends, of course, learn about all those secrets and memories as time goes by and they get to know you better. And the very best friends don't care about your flaws. In fact, sharing those flaws with each other makes your relationship stronger.

Most of my friends are the kind from whom I hide my very worst flaws. They don't know me as well as my family and closest friends do. This is probably because I move so often that I never have the time to develop deeper relationships. I value those friends, and I'm grateful for them, but our friendship isn't the kind that usually brings meaningful change to one another's lives.

I do have a few friends, though, that have changed my life. I talked about most of them in depth two years ago at Thanksgiving, so I'm sure they know who they are. I also have a new friend who has become one of the best friends I've ever had, but she'll get her own post tomorrow. ;)

The best kind of friend is the kind that makes you a better person. They build you up when you're down. They're aware of what's going on in your life, and support you in whatever you're doing. They give you good advice when you're lost, and are grateful for the advice you give in return. They keep you from doing anything blatantly stupid, and help you recover when you're stubborn enough to do that stupid thing anyway. They forgive you when you're at your worst, and love you in spite of your flaws. And even if you move far away, when you see each other again it's like you were never apart.

I know that a large part of who I am today is because of the friendships I have had in my life. I'm so grateful for my friends and for the roles they have played in helping me grow as a person.

This blog is for you, guys! You're the best! I love you all!

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Sixteen

2011-11-16T16:30:00.000-07:00

I'm grateful for God's tender mercies.

When I first heard the phrase "tender mercies," I didn't really understand what it meant. It seemed like a vague concept to me. On the whole, it sounded nice, but pinning down a specific example was difficult.

Over the years, though - especially as a mother - I've come to understand the phrase. I've seen countless examples in my life. And I've learned to truly appreciate what a gift they are.

For those of you who, like me, may not fully understand what tender mercies are, I'll try to explain.

Life is beautiful, but it isn't fair, and it isn't perfect. We're here on this earth to be tested, and most of those tests come in the form of trials and suffering. God allows us to suffer, and to feel pain, so that we can learn from it. Through our trials, we have the opportunity to grow. The test is whether or not we choose to embrace those opportunities.

God isn't impervious to our pain, however. He recognizes how we're feeling, and grieves at our suffering. He doesn't put us through hard times because it's fun for Him. He does it to teach us and help us grow. And because He's a loving, caring Father, He blesses us with little comforts in the midst of our struggles. Just when things are darkest, we frequently can discover a little ray of sunshine that lifts us up and gives us strength.

Those little rays of sunshine are tender mercies.

Here's an example. Last night, Evie wasn't feeling well, so she put herself to bed early. Before she'd been there more than an hour, though, she got sick. Her hair, nightgown, and bedding were all covered. We cleaned up the bed, gave her a bath, and put her back to sleep with a big red bowl by her side.

She proceeded to be sick every hour or two through the night. My poor little girl couldn't even keep water down. And because Ben had work the next day, I was the one who had to get up with her every time. I would rinse out the bowl, comfort her, and put her back to bed.

Needless to say, it was a long night.

This morning didn't start off a whole lot better. She continued to be sick at regular intervals. Friends on Facebook warned me about the bug going around, and how some of the afflicted had been sick for two full days before it passed. I found myself worrying about what would happen if all three of us were sick at the same time. With all of us out of commission, who would take care of our family?

I ran to the store for gatorade, pedialyte, jello, saltines, soup, juice, etc. I came home to find my little girl cheerfully watching TV on the couch. She had thrown up around 9 AM, then... felt better.

At the moment, it's after 5 PM, and she still hasn't been sick again.

In spite of the warnings that the bug would probably last two days, she was sick for only about 12 hours. The night had still been long, there had been lots of unpleasant cleaning I'd had to do, and my little girl was definitely miserable. But the illness hadn't held on to her as long as it could have. She still has a fever, but she's not throwing up anymore. If I become sick now, that's one less person who will need my constant attention.

And that, my friends, is a tender mercy.

Sometimes people miss the tender mercies in their own situations. It's understandable. As a species, I think humans tend to be more keenly aware of the negative than the positive. That's probably why the news is full of tragedy and horror. Very rarely do they print articles about good things. And I know that parents (myself included) tend to be very vocal to their children when those kids are misbehaving, but often forget to let those same children know when they're doing something wonderful.

With such a strong tendency to hone in on the negative, it's very easy to miss the positives. But they're always there. All you have to do is look for them.

What are some of the tender mercies you've noticed in your own life? I'd love to hear about them!

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Fifteen

2011-11-15T17:04:00.000-07:00

I had a nightmare last night.

I dreamed that my sweet husband came to me with a confession. "I cheated," he told me.

Knowing my husband as well as I do, and knowing how deep his love for me goes, I assumed it was nothing more than a kiss. Even so, my heart started pounding. My chest felt tight, and I was afraid I might faint.

"Remember in college, when I had early morning classes?" he asked. "I didn't really have class. I was hooking up in an empty classroom with a girl I know."

I was dumbfounded and on the verge of tears. We got married in college, which meant this was going on while we were newlyweds. What had I done to make him want to stray??? Is it because I made him help me with the dishes, because we were both going to school and working??? What was wrong with me that I wasn't enough for him???

But the pain didn't end there. The blows kept on coming.

"Don't worry," he reassured me, "I ended it a while ago."

"How long ago?" I whispered.

"About a year."

We've been together for seven years. Throughout our entire marriage, he had been cheating on me.

Then he dropped the big bomb. "I broke up with her when she told me she was pregnant. I knew that would break your heart."

"You have another kid???"

"Two, actually."

At this point in my dream, I lost it. I started sobbing. "So here we've been trying for four years to get pregnant, and you've been giving another woman the babies that you were supposed to be giving me????" The pain was like a knife stabbing through my chest. I wasn't able to give him another child, but this fertile home-wrecker had given him two others! My security, my self-worth, and my marriage were shattered.

Then I woke up.

The biggest problem with shaking this nightmare off was that Dream Ben was exactly like Real Ben. So when the confessions of infidelity came, it was unexpected. And my dream self didn't recognize that Dream Ben wasn't the real thing, because he was exactly like the real Ben.

Usually when I have a bad dream where Ben breaks my heart somehow (and I have a LOT of them. I think my brain hates me), he's different. I can tell it's not the real Ben. He's "off" somehow.

But like I said, this Dream Ben was indistinguishable from Real Ben. So when I woke up, I was afraid to wake Ben up and talk to him, even though I desperately needed reassurance. My brain knew that it had been a dream, but it had felt so real that my heart was afraid. I was worried that if I woke him up, he would tell me that my dream had been true, and that he had cheated on me. My heart and my brain were at odds.

After several agonizing minutes, my brain finally won, and I woke Ben up. He was immediately concerned about why I was so upset at 4 AM. I started telling him about my dream, crying hysterically, pausing frequently to blow my nose. He, of course, held me and reassured me that it had just been a horrible dream. And he repeated the same words he has reassured me with throughout our entire marriage: "That would never happen."

And despite my dreams, I know for a fact that it's true. Ben would never cheat on me, not in a million years.

There are few things in life that are truly certain, but Ben's love for me (and vice versa!) is one of them. He is not the kind of man who would cheat in the first place. He takes his vows seriously. And on top of that, he's head-over-heels in love with me. There's no way he would ever be unfaithful.

But last night I got a taste of what it must feel like to be one of the thousands of wives whose husbands do cheat. And it was one of the most horrible experiences of my life. I doubt that I will ever forget that nightmare.

But I was lucky, because I woke up. There are so many women in the world who have to live through their nightmares, with no escape.

I was talking to someone a few weeks ago who said, "Sometimes it isn't the man's fault if he cheats."

His explanation was that he had a friend whose wife was very cruel and cold. They'd tried counseling, and it just didn't help. She was awful, so it made sense that his friend would look elsewhere for love and gratification.

My response was, "It is never okay to cheat. If things are that bad, and you desperately want to look outside of your marriage for love, get a divorce! Divorces may be painful, but I guarantee that cheating will be more painful, especially for your spouse. Adultery is sneaky, selfish, and it shatters people's self-esteem. Whatever difficulties you may have with your spouse, you made them a promise when you agreed to marry them. Going behind their back and betraying them so completely is never an acceptable alternative."

That's my opinion, and nothing will ever change my mind.

I hate that cheating has become accepted as "normal" by so much of society. People don't even flinch anymore when they hear about it. Often, they'll even blame the spouse - the one who stayed true to their marriage vows. They should have done more to keep their spouse interested! Maybe they shouldn't have gained that weight! They're cold and mean, so it's their own fault!

Blaming the victim? That's truly despicable.

I think people forget, or maybe don't realize, how agonizingly painful it is for the person whose spouse has strayed. Divorces may be hard, but finding out that your spouse has been unfaithful is agony.

Nobody deserves that kind of pain.

I'm so grateful that I'm married to a man who loves me, respects me, and honors our commitment to one another. When he tells me that he will never, ever stray, I know that he's telling me the truth. I know that he's a man of integrity, who loves God and hates adultery. I know that he would rather die than cause me to feel that kind of pain.

I'm blessed to have such a secure marriage. That doesn't mean we don't have to work at our marriage, but it does mean that when I send him off on a deployment for months at a time, there's one less thing I have to worry about.

And I'm grateful to know that the nightmares will always end when I wake up.

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Fourteen

2011-11-14T21:28:00.000-07:00

I wasn't sure what to write about, so my friend Juleigh (who will get her own post in a few days!) gave me the idea to write about technology.

I already covered the joys of modern medicine, but let's face it, that's just one small aspect of what this day and age has to offer!

I know a lot of people roll their eyes at the internet, and talk about how it's ruining "real" relationships. People no longer connect on a personal level! Everything is cold and anonymous! And in a way, I can see how that might be true for some people. For me, though, it's just the opposite.

Being married to a military man means that I'm usually living far away from the rest of my family. I rarely get to see them, and with all of us so busy in our everyday lives, we don't have time to talk on the phone as much as we'd like, either.

By emailing each other, blogging about our activities, and stalking each other on Facebook, we're able to keep up with one another's lives in a way that would be really difficult otherwise.

Skype is another great invention! The times when we are able to talk to one another on the phone can be made that much more special with Skype. That way, we not only are talking to each other, but we can see each other!

This has been a valuable tool at times. When my sister had her baby (my first blood-related nephew!), we weren't able to be there. But we got to Skype with them right away, and I was able to see the cute little stinker through the web camera.

Similarly, my parents and in-laws are able to keep up with my daughter, and see how much she's growing, by talking to her on Skype. It means we can feel a little bit more involved in each other's lives, despite the distances between us.

Needless to say, Skype was also my favorite thing when my sweet hubby was deployed to the middle east. I not only got to talk to him regularly, I could see his handsome face. It was way better than a plain ol' phone call.

Another great thing about technology is that I can take pictures, put them directly onto my computer, then post them on the internet. That way, no matter what computer I'm on, I have access to them. If my house burns down, or my computer crashes, it's okay! Those precious memories are safe. As a photo bug, I'm so grateful for that fact! I document so many aspects of my life, it would be heartbreaking to lose my pictures. The photos help keep the memories clear and fresh. So I'm definitely grateful for technology when it comes to preserving memories through photography.

Then we come to the greatest invention of all time when it comes to getting around town: the GPS! As a family frequently on the move, we have to learn a new area every couple of years. It can be tricky. Before we had a GPS in our car, I would have to print directions off of Google (thanks, technology!) before I could go anywhere! Maps were okay for getting around the country, but for individual cities, it was hard to use a map. So Google it was! And it was time-consuming and annoying. Now, though, I can just pop the address into the GPS and get step-by-step instructions! It's like "Navigation for Dummies!" And yes, I'll admit that I totally fall into the "dummy" category when it comes to navigation. The GPS is a lifesaver.

And though they're not as new a technology as GPS, cell phones are a valuable tool. I never have to worry about getting into a wreck or having car problems and not being able to reach anyone. As long as I have my cell phone, I feel safe. Granted, I know that reception isn't always perfect, but you can get service almost everywhere now, so I feel confident that I'll be able to reach someone if I ever need help.

The internet definitely has its downs along with its ups, but really, it's a pretty incredible resource. The whole world is at your fingertips! You can find almost any answer to almost any question on the internet. You can learn new things; you can reconnect with old friends; you can find books, movies or music you've been hunting for; you can even do your Christmas shopping!

Technology is incredible. Even 30 years ago, most of this technology would have sounded like science fiction. Yet here it is! And it's still growing by leaps and bounds. New technology is introduced all the time!

It's an amazing world we live in.

I'm grateful to live in this day and age, where the world is made so much more accessible, and friends and family are always just a click away.

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Thirteen

2011-11-13T20:23:00.000-07:00

Music is powerful stuff.

It can make you feel powerful emotions when you listen to it. Music can be dark and fearsome, or light and happy. It can make you laugh, cry, or even think. It can help you release pent-up frustrations, or make you relive a fond memory. And nothing in the world brings the Spirit as strongly as a hymn.

I feel blessed that I have musical abilities. I sing, and I'm not a terrible pianist. That means that I can sit down at the piano with a piece of music, and accompany my own singing.

Performing a piece of music, even just for yourself in the comfort of your own home, can be as powerful as listening to it.

Doctrine and Covenants 25:12 says, "For my soul delighteth in the song of the heart; yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads."

When we sing songs that glorify God, it's a kind of prayer. He loves music, and delights in it just as we do. And music being the powerful tool it is when it comes to stirring souls and evoking emotions, it brings a whole new level to hymns of praise. Without the music, they're nice poems and prayers. When you add the music, though, they become something incredibly powerful.

Why else do you suppose radio stations start playing Christmas music in October? It makes people happy. It reminds them of the joys of the holiday season, and calls to mind memories of happy Christmases past. Hearing Christmas music makes people feel joyful, because they associate it with all of their Christmas memories and traditions, and gets them excited about the upcoming season.

Then consider movies. If it were just people on a screen, with dialogue and sharp editing, it might draw you in a little bit. But it's the music playing underneath the action on the screen that makes you feel connected to the movie. The soundtrack lets you know when something scary is about to happen, or when you should be expecting something exciting, or romantic.

Who can forget those two slow bass notes underscoring the movie Jaws? Every time they play, you know the shark is near. Your heart begins to beat a little faster, and you find yourself holding your significant other's hand in a death grip.

Music is powerful.

I'm fortunate to be the choir director at my church. With Christmas falling on a Sunday this year, I want to make sure the program is especially wonderful. As I said before, nothing brings the Spirit as quickly as music does. In my mind, there are few better ways to celebrate the birth of the Savior than with joyous hymns of praise. And because I'm the choir director, I've been able to immerse myself in Christmas music for several weeks now. It's a little stressful at times, trying to teach everyone their parts and make the music sound beautiful, but I know that if we do a good job, we'll be able to touch the hearts of everyone in the congregation on Christmas Day.

I'm also trying to put together an Easter program for next year. I haven't started it yet, but I want to get it going after the new year. I'd like to put on a production of The Garden by Michael McLean. It's about the Savior's atonement. There's not a lot of "acting" in it. It's more or less all music. But it shares a message much more poignantly than any mere play could do. Every time I listen to the music from The Garden, I find myself weeping. The power is in the music.

I'm grateful for music. I can't imagine a world without it. And I'm grateful that I've been blessed with the ability to contribute a music of my own, that doesn't make other people cringe and plug their ears.

Much. ;)

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Twelve

2011-11-12T09:56:00.000-07:00

I wasn't sure what I was going to talk about today, until I remembered that - duh! - it's my little brother's birthday!

Normally I might talk about all of my siblings in one big post. This isn't because they don't deserve their own, special, individual posts. It's more a matter of consolidation, because there are only 24 days of Thanksgiving, and there are so many things I'm grateful for!

But since it's his birthday, as a special gift to him, I'm going to talk about my brother, Daniel.

On the ski lift in Park City, UT

I love all of my siblings. Let's be clear about that. I have a unique relationship with each of them. But Daniel was my favorite when I was growing up. It's probably because he was the baby (until Joseph came along, and I was already heading to college by then), and I was the oldest. Also, since he was so much younger than me, he never got on my nerves like Andrew and Alyssa did occasionally.

I'm not saying that he's still my #1 favorite. As I've gotten older, my relationships with all of my siblings have grown into something special. I couldn't possibly pick a favorite now.

Rocking a moose hat!

But when I was growing up... yeah. Daniel was my favorite.

For one thing, he was ridiculously cute. When he was little, he had these huge, solemn brown eyes. He would just look at you, and you wanted to cuddle with him.

Then there was the lace thing. He loved lace. He would find lace, take it carefully in his pudgy fingers, and rub it underneath his nose.

It was so cute! It did cause problems in church, though, when the only place lace was available was on one of his sisters' (or mother's) slips. He would shove our skirts up and attempt to rub the lace from our slips under his nose. It was hilarious, but obviously problematic, so eventually Mom just bought him a length of lace from a fabric store. Problem solved.

It's a race!

As he got bigger, he got goofier. What kid doesn't? But the great thing about Daniel was, he was willing to do pretty much anything I asked him to do. Sometimes I just wanted him to get me a drink of water or a blanket. Other times, I'd tell him to do something stupid, and he would immediately agree.

Daniel enjoys a good photo bomb.

One instance comes to mind: He was about five years old, and I was twelve. I was helping him take a bath, and I thought it would be funny to get a picture of him streaking through the house. Why, you ask? I just told you I was twelve, what more explanation do you need?

So, I told him to wait for the signal. I went and got my camera, positioned myself on the stairs, and shouted, "Now!" He came running around the corner (wearing nothing but his birthday suit) and raced down the hall. I got a picture of the back of him, complete with tiny buns, as he sprinted away on his skinny little legs.

The pictures I take of him now are much nicer. :)

Another time, when we were older (15 and 8, respectively), I was doing a lot of video taping. We were living in El Salvador, and I was making videos for my friends back home.

We found the box of Halloween costumes, and I convinced Daniel to try them on. Most of them were girl costumes, but he had no problem with this. I have some lovely footage of Daniel dressed as a bride, a clown, and a 20's-era flapper. And boy, did he work those costumes. He was clearly enjoying himself.

Daniel is 22 now. To be honest, though, not that much has changed. He doesn't do the lace thing anymore, but he'll still do pretty much whatever I ask. Fortunately, I'm enough of an adult now that I don't make him cross-dress.

Dad brought this dress back from Iraq for my mom.

Much.

Daniel is one of the best people I know. When my little girl was about 18 months old, he came and watched her for a week so Ben and I could go on an anniversary trip. Daniel was only 18 years old himself, and probably would rather have been out with friends, living his own life. But he didn't even hesitate when I asked. He took care of her for almost a whole week, and did a great job, too.

Right after he graduated from high school, when Evie was around eight months old, he watched her every night while Ben and I performed in summer dinner theater. We performed every night but Sundays, so that effectively killed any social life he might have had otherwise. But he was completely willing to do it. I suspect that this is because he's a freaking awesome guy. And Evie loves him completely. He's such a fun, fantastic uncle.

Not only is he great with kids, he's also one of the all-around best people I know.

He's funny, he's charming, he's handsome, he's loyal, he's courageous... I could go on forever.

Daniel and Bones

Right after the Prop 8 stuff was going on, our church had one of its bi-annual conference meetings. The leadership of the church all get together for these events, and it's broadcast all over the world.

Because of Prop 8, there was a lot of anger being directed at the church. Temples and homes had been vandalized, members of the church had received threats, and there was a lot of general ugliness. I found myself a little bit worried that someone might try to assassinate the prophet during the conference. What better way to get back at the church? And let's face it, there are crazy people out there. Joseph Smith, Jr, our first prophet in the latter days, was assassinated. So it's not a completely idiotic concern.

I was telling Daniel and Andrew about my worries, and one of them (I'm not a hundred percent sure which one it was) said, "If anyone came into the conference center with a gun, you know both of us would tackle the guy without hesitation. And so would every other guy there, probably."

And it's true. I know for a fact that either of my brothers (and Joseph, too, once he's grown up) would jump on an armed gunman if it meant saving lives. I remember Daniel telling me about how he chased a purse-snatcher once. He didn't catch the guy, but he also didn't hesitate to try.

You don't want to mess with this!

Daniel is literally one of the very best men I have ever known in my life, and I have known some really incredible guys. I suspect that this is because people like to be around other people who are similar to what they're already familiar with. Growing up in a family of amazing men, it makes sense that I would surround myself with other amazing men in other stages of my life.

Evie and Daniel taking on Grams and Joseph at air hockey.

All of my brothers are incredible, and I could talk forever about all the great experiences I've had with each of them. But Daniel and I have always had such a good, close relationship, that he definitely holds a special place in my heart.

I love you, Daniel, and I'll be grateful forever that I was blessed to be your sister.

Happy birthday!

PS - You're my favorite. ;)

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Eleven

2011-11-11T11:11:00.000-07:00

First off, I'd like to note that today is 11/11/11, and that I'm writing this at precisely 11 am. If I hurry, maybe I can get it posted by 11:11! That means this post will be extra lucky! Whoever reads it will receive $500 on their front porch! That, or a swift kick in the patootie. Don't blame me, it wasn't my idea. ;)

So, along with it being a very special day numerically speaking, it's also a very special holiday. One that frequently gets overlooked. One that has become more meaningful to me over the years.

Today is Veteran's Day!

As you know, I'm married to an Air Force man. Since he has officially deployed overseas, that makes him a veteran in every sense of the word. And honestly, I couldn't be prouder of him.

It's not easy, being a military wife. Your husband has to be gone a lot of the time, so you spend long stretches at a time basically as a single parent. You get emotional whenever a TV commercial has a military parent coming home and hugging his or her family. You cry over stories of people waiting patiently and respectfully on a commercial airplane while a soldier's body is taken off of the plane. You get furious when you hear about people protesting at military funerals. Your heart aches whenever the media makes a disparaging remark about the troops, or spins a story to make the troops look like bad guys. You hug your kids more, trying to find ways to explain to them why their dad can't be home all the time like their friends' dads. You get scared every time casualties are reported in the area where your husband is deployed. You proudly wear T-shirts and display bumper stickers that let the world know that your husband is in the military, because as tough as it is, you love him and are 100% proud of his willingness to serve his country.

I'm grateful for my husband, for my father, for my grandfather, and for all the other men I know who have faithfully served this country. Without them and their willingness to put their lives on the line for the greater good, we wouldn't have the freedoms we enjoy.

This truly is the greatest country in the world. I've lived in other places around the world, and I can promise you that nobody has it as good as we do here in America. We're blessed to be able to live in this great country. And it's because of the military men and women who serve that we're able to keep those freedoms.

As the saying goes, this is the land of the free, because of the brave.

Thank you to all the courageous men and women who have fought for this country, past and present. Thank you for serving. Thank you for risking your lives so that my children and I can sleep safely at night. Thank you for leaving your families and sacrificing your comfort in order to defend those who can't defend themselves.

You are all heroes. And I'm eternally grateful to every one of you.

My Air Force hubby and his Army brother.

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Ten

2011-11-10T17:17:00.000-07:00

THANK GOODNESS for modern medicine!

Seriously, being sick/injured/pregnant is hard enough as it is, and we're blessed to live in a time where there are all kinds of medicines and treatments to help with all kinds of problems. How did people manage before??

I'm sick at the moment, and generally miserable. I didn't sleep at all last night, and I haven't been able to nap today. My throat is sore and dry, and wakes me up a minute or two after I drift off with the urgent need to cough. My nose is simultaneously leaking and clogging up every inch of my sinuses. It's terrible.

The great thing is, I can take cold medicine tonight and knock myself right out. I try to avoid taking drugs when I can, so my body doesn't build up a tolerance, but I figure it's time. I'm exhausted, and it's hard to get better when you're unable to sleep.

Seriously - how did people survive before cold medicine???

And that's just one of the simplest miracles that modern medicine has to offer. What about x-rays, and anesthesia, and chemotherapy, and MRI machines, and all the other things that make it possible for doctors to diagnose and treat people?

Plus, we've managed to wipe out several diseases - at least, in this part of the world - thanks to vaccinations. When's the last time you heard about someone dying from smallpox? It's certainly been a while! Vaccinations are such a valuable tool.

One of the greatest inventions in the medical field, to me, is a little something I like to call "God's gift to women." No, it's not men. Please. Be serious.

It's the epidural!

Now, I know a lot of women prefer to have natural births. Why, I don't know. Maybe they're petrified of needles. Maybe their babies tend to be so small that it doesn't bother them much to deliver them. Maybe they're doing it just to prove they can.

I have no such desire to prove anything. I have no problem with needles. And the fact that I was over ten pounds when I was born, and my own child was over nine, tells me that genetics are not going to bless me with any dainty newborns.

I had an epidural with Evie, and I've never regretted it. I slept through the bulk of my labor. And, in fact, it was the last good sleep I had for a month or two after that, so I was incredibly grateful for it. I fully intend to have an epidural with every one of my children. It made an otherwise excruciating experience... fairly easy. And because of that, I was able to focus more on the excitement of it all, rather than the pain.

Technology is wonderful. The advances in science and medicine are nothing short of miraculous. I know we still have a long way to go before we rid the world of disease, but we've certainly come a long way! People are healthier. They're living longer. They're able to recover from illness and injury so much more easily.

Modern medicine is a marvel! And I'm grateful for it!

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Nine

2011-11-09T14:28:00.000-07:00

I've got a killer sore throat today. As usual, whenever I'm feeling sick, it makes me grateful for the good health I usually enjoy.

Isn't it amazing how we take things for granted? Then, when we don't have them anymore, we finally see their true worth?

It happens to me every time I get sick, even just with a cold. Those are the times when I remember to thank God for my usual health. Maybe if I remembered to thank Him when I'm actually well, instead of just taking my health for granted, I wouldn't get sick quite so often.

On the other hand, though, probably not.

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Eight

2011-11-08T17:34:00.000-07:00

I read an article last week that talked about a mysterious force that encourages people to make decisions contrary to what they would normally do. Obeying the mystery force often meant that the person was kept out of a dangerous situation, were able to help themselves or someone else, or had some strangely good fortune.

The author had no idea what to call this force. I found it kind of amusing, myself, because of course I already knew exactly what she was talking about. To my delight, many people in the comments section knew the answer, too.

"It's called 'the holy spirit'," they said.

I'm grateful for the Spirit. I can't recall any time when I had any life-changing, mind-blowing experience where the Spirit kept me or my loved ones safe from danger or anything like that. But I've definitely felt the Spirit, and seen firsthand results of following its promptings.

The Spirit is how God communicates with us. We pray to God, and the Spirit guides us to the answer with quiet, gentle promptings. We may feel joy or peace when we're on the right track. Guilt or dread may set in when we're making poor choices. And every once in a while, we may have a thought - seemingly out of nowhere - that changes our course.

I always pray before making any major life decisions. I want the path of my life to be one that God wants for me. He has a plan for me. There's a purpose to my existence. And I want to live my life in complete accordance with His will. Obviously, this means I consult Him on every important decision.

When I was a senior in high school, I had to choose what university I wanted to attend the next year. One of my choices was a fine arts college in my home state of Virginia, with a hugely successful musical theater department. It was close to home, had a 90% Broadway success rate for its graduates, and had offered me a scholarship.

Then, there was BYU. It was far from home, but close to extended family. The people there were of my same faith. But they hadn't even accepted me into the musical theater program, much less offered me any kind of scholarship. I would have to pay my own way completely, and fight for a spot in my program.

I prayed a lot about my decision. I had always wanted to go to BYU, but I also wanted to be a musical theater performer and teacher. The school in Virginia was a straight shot to that goal. So I was a little bit torn.

In the end, I settled on BYU. It felt right. I knew that was the Spirit's way of telling me where I belonged.

I'd like to say that I got into the musical theater program, graduated with honors, married a handsome man and was successful in every way. But the truth is, I was never accepted into the program. The competition was so stiff that basically the only people accepted were those with an "in" on the committee making the cuts. I didn't know anyone in the musical theater program faculty. I was never accepted.

My efforts to get into my program consumed my first three or four years of college. I studied dance, acting, and voice. I got several GE credits out of the way, too, but my main focus was on getting into my program. So, when I wasn't accepted (and was no longer able to audition anymore, because I had too many credits), I had four years of college under my belt and nothing to show for it. I would have to start over somewhere else.

My roommate, Layne, and I;
freshman year of college.

The criteria that prevented me from auditioning further in the musical theater program also prevented me from pursuing an acting or vocal performance major. Everything I was interested in, and talented in, was closed to me.

I was at a complete loss. I halfheartedly attempted a History major, but with little love or enthusiasm for it.

Then, I started dating Ben. We got engaged, got married, and got pregnant within a year and a half.

I quit school in order to work full time so that Ben could finish school. We had our daughter, struggled for a year or two while Ben got his degree (and commissioned in the Air Force), then left the state for pilot training.

I never got into my program. I never finished college. My prayers from senior year hadn't led where I thought they would. But I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that the Spirit was guiding my decision, and that I made the right choice.

On BYU campus

Had I attended the school in Virginia, I may have become a successful Broadway performer. But I never would have met my gorgeous husband. I might have had a career I loved, but I wouldn't have my beautiful little girl. Maybe I would have become famous - who knows? But I wouldn't have ended up living in Oklahoma, Arkansas, and Texas. I wouldn't have developed any of the friendships I made in those places. My life would be completely different, and probably nowhere near as happy. Applause is nice, but love and family are better.

As far as I'm concerned, my life is a success story.

We can't always understand why we're on the path we're on. But when we've got the Spirit guiding us, we can feel confident that we are, in fact, where we're supposed to be.

Life frequently doesn't make sense from our limited perspectives. We don't have the ability to see the big picture. But God does. He knows exactly what He's doing. He knows where He's leading us. And He knows how to shape us into the people He intends for us to be.

By following the guidance of the Spirit, we're able to move forward along life's path with confidence. No matter how difficult a decision or situation may be, we can listen to the still, small voice speaking to us in our hearts. It will help us know what to do. And by obeying that voice, our lives are blessed with incredible joy.

Ben is currently thinking about becoming a doctor (on top of being a pilot!). It's a big decision. It would mean taking four years out of his career progression, and going from a Captain back to a 2nd Lieutenant. It would mean another seven years of service committed to the Air Force. It would mean having Ben's salary frozen where it is, with none of the usual pay raises to help us as our family grows.

Ben is taking all of that into account. But more importantly, he's praying about it, and letting the Spirit help him make his decision. Despite the inconveniences involved, Ben is determined to go where God wants him to go. And because I know he's letting the Spirit guide his decisions, I will support whatever choice he makes one hundred percent.

The Spirit truly is God's way of speaking to us, and I'm grateful to be able to lead my life the way He wants me to. I know that by following His guidance, I'll have more joy in my life than I could ever find on my own.

I'm grateful to have a husband who works to live his life according to God's will.

And I'll forever be grateful that the Spirit led me to BYU; so I could meet Ben, fall in love with him, and be sealed to him for eternity.

The Idaho Falls temple, on the day
Ben and I were married.

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Seven

2011-11-07T19:18:00.000-07:00

I'm grateful for my talents.

Everyone has talents, of course, but some are more obvious than others. I've known several people who insisted that they didn't have any talents, when in fact they were incredibly talented. Their talents just tended to be less flashy than those one typically thinks of when hearing the word "talent."

My sister, for example, has always had a huge talent for empathy. In a world where people are frequently indifferent to the plights of those around them, she's had an amazing ability to understand exactly how people are feeling. Along with that, she has a talent for compassion, which drives her to reach out and try to help those who are hurting.

That is an impressive talent.

My talents, for the most part, are the more obvious kind. I don't have such a strong gift for empathy as my sister, or the kind of talent for patience that my incredible mother has. Mine are more trite and cliche, but I'm grateful for them all the same.

Backstage during The Scarlet Pimpernel. I'm rocking the
powdered wig on the far right.

The most obvious one, I think, is that I have a gift for music. It doesn't go as deep as it might for some people - like my husband, who can play about ten different musical instruments, composes music, has perfect pitch and sings beautifully to top it off - but I'm pretty good with a piano, and I definitely have some singing ability. I've won a singing competition or two in my day, played many parts in stage musicals, and I sing special musical numbers frequently in church. I've even been paid to sing a few times, so I suppose that technically makes me a "professional" singer.

I love singing, and I'm grateful that I can play the piano well enough to accompany myself. It makes things a lot easier, that's for sure! And my musicality makes me useful at church, too. I'm happy that I can use my talent to benefit others.

Hair and makeup by Cassie! ;)

Another gift I have is with hair and makeup. I'm not a professional in that field by any means, but I've always been a bit experimental with hairstyles and makeup. It's been going on since I was a child. Over the years, I've learned lots of tricks and techniques that work well. Combine that with my flair for theatrics (musical theater, remember?), and I've come up with some pretty dramatic looks.

My theory is that some people are born naturally pretty, and others are born with the gift to make themselves appear pretty in spite of their flaws. ;) Obviously, I think I'm in the latter category. I'm able to trick people into thinking I'm prettier than I am because I know how to wield a curling iron and mascara brush.

Me during my blonde phase. I kind of like it!

For those who don't have a talent for makeup and hair, and don't think they're pretty, I assure you that you're wrong. Everyone is beautiful. And if you feel that you need makeup and hair abilities to bring out your own natural beauty, there's no reason you can't learn it! The trick is to put focus on your most flattering features. And to remember that God created you, He loves you, and He made you the way you are because He thinks you're gorgeous that way! Confidence is the most important key to looking beautiful. If you feel that you're beautiful, and love yourself, others will too.

I'm also grateful for new talents that I'm developing now.

When I was in high school, I took a photography class. The cameras were old and mostly broken, and I had a heck of a time getting any decent pictures. That class is the class that kept me off of the honor roll that year, because I couldn't manage more than a C-.

Since then, though, I've learned a lot more about photography. I think I've always had an eye for what would look good - maybe it's an aesthetic thing that ties in with my hair/makeup talent? - but never had a camera that could deliver it well.

A photo shoot with my hubby and brother-in-law. They
were having some fun with the fact that Ben outranks Michael.

Now, though, we have digital cameras that take fabulous pictures with very little effort! I've also gotten a little better at photography in general, but let's face it, the digital cameras make a huge difference.

My talents in photography have developed to the point where over the years I've taken family pictures, bridals, wedding reception photos, graduation pictures, and yearly pictures of children for friends and family. I even worked as a photographer at Sears portrait studio for a while when I was first married!

I'm at the point where I feel confident enough in my abilities to offer my services to the public. I especially hope to be able to take Christmas card photos for people this year, and maybe earn a little extra money for Christmas. I'm not charging much, because let's be honest, I'm not a professional photographer. But I do a pretty good job, and I have some Photoshop ability as well. People can come to me and get really nice pictures for very cheap.

I'm excited to be starting a new venture, and further developing a talent that I wasn't really born with.

I wonder how many more talents I'll unearth over the years?

From my daughter's 5-year-old birthday pictures.

Thank you, Heavenly Father, for giving us talents. I hope that I can use my talents to bless and uplift others!

What are your talents? I'd love to hear about them! And don't tell me you don't have any, because I know for a fact that everyone does! :)

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Six

2011-11-06T18:12:00.000-07:00

Today in church we discussed Dieter F. Uchtdorf's talk from this past Relief Society general broadcast. His talk was called "Forget Me Not," and for those who haven't heard or read the talk already, you can read it here.

This talk touched me when I first heard it, and if anything, it's become more powerful the more I've pondered what President Uchtdorf said.

There's one quote from the talk in particular that sums up today's Thanksgiving topic pretty perfectly. It says, "No matter how dark your days may seem, no matter how insignificant you may feel, no matter how overshadowed you think you may be, your Heavenly Father has not forgotten you. In fact, He loves you with an infinite love.

"Just think of it: You are known and remembered by the most majestic, powerful, and glorious Being in the universe! You are loved by the King of infinite space and everlasting time!

"He who created and knows the stars, knows you and your name!"

I'm so incredibly grateful for God's love. I can only comprehend a fraction of it, yet I know the reality of it.

He blesses me every day in dozens of unseen, frequently unnoticed ways. I take most of those blessings for granted, not because I don't appreciate them, but because He blesses me on such a constant basis that I don't always realize that it's happening!

Do I deserve His love? Probably not. I'm such an imperfect, insignificant creature that there's no conceivable reason for God to even notice me, much less feel any kind of affection for me. But the thing is, God isn't just an uncaring being with unlimited power. He's also my creator. He's the father of my spirit. And therefore, to Him, I not only matter, but I'm loved beyond comprehension.

This is true for each and every one of us. I weep for people who curse God, blame Him for their misfortunes, or accuse Him of being indifferent or cruel. These people don't really understand who God is, and the nature of His relationship with them. They don't realize that He loves them, and is often pouring out blessings on their heads that they're not even noticing.

Why are people so quick to blame God for the bad things in life, yet slow to give Him any credit for the good?

God loves me. I don't deserve it, but I know that it's true all the same. I'm so grateful for that love, and I hope to live my life in such a way that He will not only love me, but be proud of me as well.

Another father who loves his daughter more than she comprehends. :)

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Five

2011-11-05T15:36:00.000-06:00

Sometimes, I think, we forget how blissfully happy "normal" life can be. I know I do. We may even feel bored, or frustrated that our lives aren't more exciting. The everyday pleasures we experience on a regular basis begin to feel repetitive, tedious.

Then, something will happen! We'll get wrapped up in a project, or some unexpected happenstance will throw us off of our usual schedule, or life will just get kooky for some reason.

Sometimes such things are a welcome diversion. But, the longer they go on, the more we'll find ourselves wishing life would just go back to "normal."

At least, that's what my experiences have taught me.

As I mentioned in my last post, my friend Juleigh and I have been working on a charity garage sale. I've been helping with the planning, advertising, and all the other minor details for the past couple of weeks. This week, the week of the garage sale, Juleigh's grandfather-in-law died and the majority of the responsibility got shifted to me. And it's been tough. Worthwhile, yes, but also tough.

As each day passed, and I spent my time baking treats, organizing donations, making posters, harassing people about helping out, putting ads for the sale on Craigslist, and doing everything else involved in putting together a garage sale, I found myself looking forward to the whole thing being done with. My laundry has been piling up, my dishes are mostly unwashed, my house is a wreck, and I've barely had a minute to rest. More and more I've been longing to get back to my usual routine.

Let's be honest - normal life is the best! There's something comforting about the familiar. Life is just less stressful when you have a routine. Even the sometimes-tedious chores and errands that come with everyday life can be relaxing.

In my opinion, there's something soothing about strolling through a grocery store, hunting down the items on your list. There's something satisfying about rinsing dishes and sticking them in a dishwasher. There's something about folding laundry into neat little piles that just kind of makes you feel good. And then, of course, let's not forget the time we spend with our families every day: reading stories, playing games, sharing meals together.

I've really missed all of that this past week.

I'm grateful for my life. I'm grateful for the little things. I'm grateful that I don't lead a life of chaos and constant surprises. My life is a good one, and even though I may complain about it from time to time, I find a massive amount of satisfaction in it. And I know that, whatever happens, I'll always be happy to go back to that blissfully slow-paced life after each unexpected adventure ends.

To sum up: I'm grateful that my garage sale adventure is over, and my normal life can resume.

Hello, life! I've missed you! :)

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Four

2011-11-04T14:50:00.000-06:00

I'm grateful for all of the opportunities I have had to serve others. I'm especially grateful for the project I'm working on now. And, in conjunction with that, I'm thankful to have such a great support system in my husband and daughter.

I've been working this week on putting together a garage sale. There's a family from our church whose house (and all their belongings) burned down in a fire a couple of weeks ago. My friend Juleigh and I had been planning to have a garage sale anyway, but when we heard about this family's plight, we decided to give all of the money we earned in the garage sale to the family, so they could replace some of what they lost in the fire.

Then, we opened it up to everyone at church. It gave everyone an opportunity to serve! We got lots of donations to the sale, and several helpful suggestions as well. Due to one suggestion, we decided to add a bake sale to the event. The whole thing just kept on growing! We were very excited about being able to help the family.

Then, Juleigh's husband lost his grandfather, and their whole family had to fly to Utah for the funeral. It was really too late to change the date of the garage sale, so I told her to go to Utah, spend time with family, and not worry about it. I'd take over the organizational responsibilities, and we would get it done!

And, for the most part, we've been fine.

It's been pretty stressful at times, though, I won't lie about that. I spent the whole day in the kitchen yesterday making goodies for the bake sale. I was exhausted by the end of the day. Then, I got up before the sun this morning, in 35-degree weather, to help set everything up. And, since it's more or less "my" sale, I had to be there for pretty much the whole thing today (all but the last hour or two), and will repeat it all again tomorrow.

Fortunately, I've had some wonderful people helping me. It hasn't been entirely on my shoulders. I can't even begin to tell you how grateful I am for the help I've had. The ladies at my church are truly Christlike individuals, and I'm so thankful not only for their help, but for their friendship.

Along with the actual, physical help with the garage sale, I've had a deeper kind of support from my husband. He's seen how worn out I've been this week, trying to get things ready. He's been with me during all the times I was so stressed out that I wanted to scream. He's been a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on when I felt overwhelmed. He has been a pillar of support, and I really couldn't have done it without him.

My daughter, Evie, has been fantastic, too. She put up with being dragged out of bed at 5 AM today (and put back to bed in a new location). She played quietly in the house once she was up, so that I could focus on the sale outside. And eventually she came outside with me and sat at the treat table, luring in customers with her adorableness. Her cooperation was also a huge help.

The garage sale isn't over. I have to go back tomorrow and do it all over again. But I know that this is for a good cause, and I know that it will bless the lives of the family who lost their home. We may not make a ton of money, but every little bit can help. And we'll have the joy and satisfaction that comes with serving another of God's children.

Serving certainly isn't always easy. But it's worthwhile all the same. It brings joy and peace to one's heart like nothing else can! And I'm grateful to have had the opportunity. :)

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Three

2011-11-03T21:27:00.000-06:00

Today, I'm grateful for lazy days. Days when you have no obligations, no worries, just yourself and a wide-open schedule.

Today has not been one of those days, however. Today, they feel like a distant memory.

Today has been incredibly busy, and in fact, I'm so exhausted that I feel like I'm on the verge of tipping over and becoming comatose. And I have another incredibly busy day tomorrow. And it starts at 5 AM!

So my lazy day will just have to wait. As will, more than likely, my next blog entry. I'll try to type something, though, I promise!

My wish for all of you is for you to have a productively lazy day sometime soon. Enjoy it for me! ;)

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day Two

2011-11-02T09:27:00.000-06:00

For this second day of Thanksgiving, I want to talk about how grateful I am to have enough.

We're coming up on that time of year when people tend to be more aware of the suffering of others. During the Christmas season, charities abound. You have Angel Trees, Toys for Tots, and the ever-ringing bells of the Salvation Army outside many stores. Christmas brings out the Christlike love in most people, to a greater extent than you see during the rest of the year.

I've been a little worried about how we're going to afford good Christmas presents this year. In the past, we've always managed to have a little extra money around the holidays, but this year will probably be different. This year, we've got to make do with what little we can spare from each paycheck.

But the fact is, we WILL have Christmas presents. We are by no means wealthy, but we have enough to make ends meet, with a little left over. We may be on a tighter budget this year, but Santa Claus will be stopping by our house with plenty of goodies for my little girl.

Little Evie, back when we were poor. :)

Other families are not so lucky. Some go with nothing almost ever year. And with the state of the economy being what it is, there are probably many families who are going to be struggling for the very first time this year, when they have known plenty in years past. I can imagine how hard that will be for them. Hopefully the Christmas spirit touches their friends and neighbors, and all those who are less fortunate will be able to have a wonderful Christmas in spite of financial difficulties.

My family and I are very fortunate that we have all of our needs met. We have been incredibly blessed. Living a military lifestyle certainly isn't always easy, but at least we don't have to struggle financially.

I'm sure it's nice to be rich. I wouldn't really know, because I've never been rich, but I imagine there's some satisfaction in being able to buy things on a whim. I'm a gift-giver - it's one of the ways I show love - and I would definitely enjoy being able to buy something for somebody "just because;" as a way of saying "I love and appreciate you."

I don't have that luxury. But the fact is, my family and I have enough. And that truly is a huge blessing.

When we were poor, starving college students, there were months when I had to decide which bills to pay. There were times when all we could afford was formula and diapers for our baby girl, and Ben and I had to go without. We were making less money than we needed to pay for everything most months, and it was incredibly stressful. I remember looking forward to the day when we would be able to pay all of our bills and still have enough left over for gas and groceries. I didn't dream of vast riches, I dreamed of getting by.

That dream is a reality now, and it feels wonderful. I have a strong sense needing to pay what I owe, so those past months when we were unable to pay some of our bills, or we had to pay our rent late, were terrible. I always felt so guilty.

Evie now! :)

It feels wonderful to have enough money to pay every bill that comes our way, and be able to cover living expenses. And with the little bit of extra we have, maybe we can brighten someone else's Christmas, too. Because we know how awful it feels to be broke.

Maybe having "enough" isn't as great as having "a lot," but for me... it's enough. ;)

And I'm so grateful for it!

24 Days of Thanksgiving - Day One

2011-11-01T09:39:00.000-06:00

'Tis the season for thankfulness! This year, I'm actually on top of the fact that it's November! Hooray! Last year, I ended up doing a retroactive Thanksgiving countdown, because it just didn't occur to me to do anything like this until the month was already half over. This year, though, I'm set.

Ideally, I'll write one blog per day, talking about something I'm grateful for. Some days may be more involved than others, because hey - life happens! But I'll try my very best to write about something every day.

Today, though, I want to start with the most important thing in my life. It's something that has been in the limelight quite a bit lately, thanks to politics, but it frequently is cast in a harsh, sinister light. It frustrates me every time that happens, because anyone who knows anything about this topic knows that there is nothing sinister about it.

Today I'm talking about the gospel; about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

Some people make thing I'm crazy, listing my church as more important than, for example, my family. But the fact is, every other good thing I have in this life is a direct blessing from God. He is the center of everything. And, as it says in Matthew 10:37, "He that ^aloveth father or mother ^bmore than me is not worthy of me: and he that ^cloveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me."

So I don't think there's anything wrong with saying that the Savior (and His gospel) is the most important thing in my life.

With Mitt Romney running for the GOP candidacy at the moment, there has been a lot of examination of the Church. In general, that's not such a bad thing. It gives church members more opportunities to share their testimonies, for one thing. I'm sure there are probably more curious visitors to mormon.org lately, as well. For the most part, I think this spotlight on our faith is a good thing.

The unfortunate part, of course, is when anti-Mormon (and, frequently, anti-religion) "intellectuals" write opinion columns for major newspapers, bashing the LDS faith without a shred of evidence to back up their arguments. Clearly, they have done little, if any, research on the faith. And as far as I'm concerned, I don't think going to an excommunicated, anti-Mormon source is the best way to get a clear picture of what faithful, practicing Latter-Day Saints believe. Call me crazy, but that just doesn't seem like the brightest approach. On the other hand, of course, how can they get the smut they're so eagerly looking for if they talk to someone with a good opinion of the church? So I suppose I can see why they do it. But properly researched journalism it ain't. So let's not pretend that their opinion columns are anything short of bigoted, fallacy-ridden rants.

The problem is, of course, that many people in the country are not familiar with the LDS faith. So, when they read these articles, they assume that they're learning something true. Even in an opinion column, you'd assume that the author got the basic facts straight before forming an opinion on them. But that's very frequently not the case. So, unfortunately, a lot of misinformation is being spread around.

It doesn't surprise me. We're living in the latter days, after all, and Satan is doing everything in his power to lead people astray.

But please allow me to present an alternative view of the Church.

"We believe in God, the Eternal Father, and in His Son, Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost." That is our very first Article of Faith. For those of you unfamiliar with the Church, we have thirteen Articles of Faith that give a brief explanation of what we believe. And this is at the very top of the list. We believe in God. We believe that His literal son, our Savior, Jesus Christ, came to earth and atoned for our sins. We believe that He suffered for us so that we could repent of our very human shortcomings, and return to live with Him and our Father again when this life is over. We also believe that they provided a guide for us in this life - the Holy Ghost - to be our constant companion and help us make good choices.

Does that sound like an evil cult to you?

We believe in baptism, and repentance. We believe that we're responsible for our actions. We believe that it's important not only to have faith in God, but to act on that faith. We hold the Bible and the Book of Mormon close to our hearts, as we believe that both are divine scripture. We believe that God is unchanging, and the fact that he gave revelation to people in times past means that He is still capable of giving - and, in fact still does give - revelation. Similarly, we believe that as He spoke to prophets in times past, He speaks to prophets today. We have a prophet who leads our Church, just as prophets guided the church in days of old.

We believe in the very same gospel that Christ himself established when He lived on the earth.

We believe in feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and helping those in need. Our Church is always one of the first on the scene to provide relief when disasters strike, all over the world. We have an active faith, one that requires us to go out and do good, and live Christlike lives; not just sit at home and profess faith.

How can you call such a Church "sinister"? Our gospel, just as the Savior's gospel, is all about love.

I can say with absolute certainty that my life is a joyful one. I love the Savior, and my Heavenly Father. I know that the things they ask of me - which sometimes seem restrictive and severe to people outside the gospel - are for my own good. I know from experience that by living my life as I'm asked to, I have been blessed. I have joy. I can't imagine that there are many people in the world who live happier lives than I do.

That doesn't mean that life is pain-free. There will always be trials, there will always be heartache. But those experiences only make me stronger when I'm willing to turn to God and rely on Him to help me through. God gives us trials, yes, but He also provides us with the love and support we need to overcome those trials, and to grow spiritually.

I'm grateful for the Gospel. It is the very best thing in my life. I wouldn't change it for anything. You may call me crazy, and call my faith "weird," "sinister," or even "a cult." But I know the truth. It's Jesus Christ's church here on earth. It's the most beautiful thing anywhere in existence, and those who choose to live their lives as faithful members are blessed beyond comprehension.

If there is anyone reading this blog who is unfamiliar with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and would like to know more, I invite you to go to mormon.org and look around.

You may be pleasantly surprised by what you find there. :)

Dances with Spiders

2011-10-11T08:36:00.005-06:00

This morning, I passed through the living room on my way to the kitchen to fix breakfast. As I passed by our coat closet, I spied a moderately large, moderately hairy spider sitting on the door. Naturally, this was discovered on the one day in recent history when Ben has had to leave the house early. So it was up to me to dispatch the beast.

I ran and got the fly swatter, thinking I'd just smack the hairy little creep. I swung the swatter, and it seemed that my aim was true. Somehow, however, the spider ended up doing a back flip off the door. Whether this was due to my ineffectual swatting abilities, or the spider's own keen senses and jumping skills, I know not. Either way, I let out an involuntary shriek and jumped backward, tracking the beast's progress with my eyes, as it arched through the air and landed... in a basket of clean, folded laundry.

My clean, folded laundry.

I panicked, visualizing the horror of putting on supposedly clean clothes, only to find a spider (dead or alive) lurking therein.

I scanned the basket, but the spider was nowhere to be seen.

I searched the floor around the basket, nudging each dark spot on the carpet in the hopes that it would turn out to be an arachnoidal corpse.

Yes, I just made up that word. No, I did not find the spider.

I began gingerly lifting clothes and shaking them, praying that the spider would be discovered so that I could finish what I started, win my battle with nature, and go about the rest of my day with my mind at ease.

No spider.

I continued to hover over the basket, hunting for some sign of wriggly, hairy, menacing life. I stood there at least ten minutes, possibly twenty. But the beast continued to elude my watchful gaze.

Finally, I had no recourse but to give up. I told Evie to keep her shoes on while she was getting ready for school, and to avoid the war zone in the living room. I got her ready to go, took her to school (giving the area around the laundry basket a wide berth), then spent the rest of my day so far hiding in my bedroom.

I'm going to stay here, too, until Ben gets home and can carefully examine every piece of laundry in that basket.

He will be my champion.

You've won the battle, spider, but you will NOT win the war!!!

Random Acts of Kindness

2011-09-13T07:59:00.000-06:00

I've already talked about this on Facebook, but it was so nice, I wanted to write about it somewhere a little more permanent.

Yesterday, Evie and I went to Red Robin for dinner. While we were there, I talked to Evie a little bit about her dad coming home from his deployment soon. We talked about other things, too, but I'm guessing that the deployment talk is what led to the next thing that happened.

As we were finishing our dinner, the waitress came up to us with our ticket, and told me, "The people at the table next to yours paid for your meal. They asked me to wait until they were gone to tell you."

I looked over, and sure enough, they were gone.

I can only assume that they overheard me talking to Evie about Ben, and decided to pay for our dinner. It was their way of showing their appreciation for the military and their families.

I was truly touched. I've never had anyone do something like that for me before. And the fact that they had the waitress wait to tell me until after they had left speaks volumes about their character.

They weren't looking for praise. They didn't even want my thanks. They just wanted to do something nice for a military family who have been without a husband/father. I was seriously blown away.

The whole experience has made me think about what random acts of kindness I can perform for other people. It's such a simple thing, to keep your eyes open and be aware of people who might need a little boost. I'm not generally that aware of the needs of people around me, though. So that's something I'd like to work on. I'd like to be the one anonymously performing acts of kindness for other people, to lift their spirits and brighten their day.

I want to pay it forward.

Just imagine! If performing random acts of kindness inspires others to start doing the same, and paying it forward, how quickly the world would become a better place!

I'm not saying we could cure all poverty and injustices and bring about world peace, but the world would certainly become a nicer place in which to live. All it takes is a little observation, and the willingness to act.

I'm grateful for those strangers at Red Robin last night. I'm touched that they recognized our status as a military family and chose to show their support for our troops in such a tangible way. It certainly wasn't necessary - I had the money to pay for the food, of course! - but it was thoughtful and kind. They brightened my day, and made me feel a little better about the military's claim on my husband's time. It's nice to know that our sacrifice is appreciated.

And hopefully I can find opportunities to perform my own random acts of kindness. I didn't get to thank that family last night personally, so I figure this is how I can show my gratitude; by paying it forward!

(I found this illustration online. I don't know who drew it, but I love it! I hope they don't mind me posting it here!)

Ten Years

2011-09-11T09:25:00.000-06:00

I'm sure there are multitudes of people writing about September 11th today, and I am absolutely one of them.

It was a day that affected me very personally, since when it happened, I believed that my father was working in the Pentagon. As it turns out, he was actually working at the State Department. So he was totally safe. But I didn't know that, and being across the country at college, I had no way of finding that out until after a full day of worrying, crying, and praying.

I thought that the best way to talk about my experience would be to plagiarize myself. I have an old journal with entries I wrote on the day everything happened, and a year later. I'm going to post those entries here.

"September eleventh, two thousand one... A day that shall go down in infamy...

"I woke up this morning, turned on the radio, and heard that the World Trade Center towers had been destroyed. ...And the Pentagon had been attacked.

"The Pentagon where my father works.

"Four airplanes had been hijacked; one for each of the towers, one for the Pentagon, and one aimed for Pittsburg that crashed 80 miles short of its mark.

"I tried to call my mom, but the phones out that way were all jammed. So, I went to class, wondering all day whether or not my father was alive.

"Both of the towers collapsed. Another building nearby also collapsed. All of the government offices in New York and Washington, D.C. were evacuated.

"I heard nothing from my family until 1:15 pm, when my grandfather called and told me that my dad was okay. I started crying (so did Grandpa). Then my mom called, too. I heard my dad's voice in the background. He had been evacuated, unharmed.

"Still... how many people's fathers are not coming home tonight?

"It's like a second Pearl Harbor. That was my initial thought, and that's what they're saying on the news, too. This is going to throw the US into a war. Looks like signs of the Second Coming.

"Oh, man."

So, that was what I wrote the day that it happened. Obviously, we learned more about the attack later (like how the Pentagon hadn't been the terrorists initial target), but these were my first impressions. I didn't go into many details about my personal experience, though, until a year later.

"Today is September 11th. One year ago, three thousand innocent lives were lost to one big, coordinated terrorist attack.

"My mother and I sat in front of the TV this morning, crying as we watched the special programs live on TV. In New York, they read the names of every victim of that day. Here in D.C., they held a commemorative service in front of the newly-fixed side of the Pentagon, the side that had been destroyed in the attacks.

"Services are being held in other countries, too. In London, they held a two-minute moment of silence across the whole country at the time the first plane hit. Then, they had a special choir sing Mozart's 'Requiem.' It's touching, the way other countries have been supporting us.

"I realized that I didn't go into very great detail a year ago about what happened. Too much shock, I guess. So I'll do that now.

"After I heard the radio saying what had happened, I went tearing down the stairs to the TV in the living room. As I ran past, my roommate Becca came running out of her room, the phone clutched to her ear, her face pale. Our roommate, Layne, had seen that the Pentagon had been hit on the news report she was watching at work, and had called me right away.

"Becca answered the phone. Her father works in a building right next to the Pentagon.

"Becca and I sat in front of the TV, watching in horror at the carnage on the news, holding each other and crying. We took turns trying to call our families, but the phones were jammed. Feeling helpless, I finally got dressed and went to meet Layne at the Law Library and pick her up to go to class.

"When I got to the Library, I saw a group of students crowded around the TV in front of the circulation desk where Layne was working. I watched in horror as the World Trade Center collapsed. Layne ran to me and threw her arms around me. I started sobbing. Layne went to get her bag so we could go to class.

"A lady, some unknown angel, saw me crying. She didn't know me, but she didn't let that stop her. That beautiful, angelic woman came up to me, put her arms around me, and rocked me back and forth, murmuring, 'It's okay, sweetheart. It will all be all right.' I clung to her for emotional support, and she stood there patiently until I calmed down. After that, I went to class.

"Heroes come in all shapes and sizes, and that unknown angel at the Law Library is a personal hero of mine.

"After we sang 'Nearer, My God, To Thee' in my first class, I broke down again. I wrote notes to the rest of my teachers, asking them to excuse me from class for the day.

"I went home to wait for news by the phone. When my grandfather called, he reassured me that my father was fine. All the pent-up emotion burst out of me again, and I cried like a baby. Grandpa told me Uncle Eric was okay, too. Apparently he had been on the mall by the Pentagon, and the plane had flown right over his head.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to forget that day; a day that started out like any other, but ended with 3,000 fewer American citizens and a forever changed New York skyline. The events of that day will be etched in my mind forever."

To these journal entries, from the day of the event, and the first anniversary a year later, I now add an entry for the ten-year anniversary.

The events of 9/11 changed people. Many people became heroes that day, in many different ways. Strangers became friends. Americans were united as a people. We vowed to one another that we would never forget.

For several months after the tragedy took place, people became more patriotic. Flags were hanged in windows. Pro-America stickers were pasted on cars. People were a little more neighborly, a little more forgiving, a little more likely to serve each other.

That spirit, sadly, didn't last.

Most people still view the events of 9/11 with horror and sadness. But, unfortunately, we can no longer say that we're united as a nation. The petty bickering, the stubbornness (especially among politicians), the apathy for the pain of those around us, the criticizing of others - all of it has returned. Neighbors have become faceless strangers once more.

The saddest thing, to me, is the lack of support for our troops. The events of that day did spark a war. Many people (especially in the media) disagree that the war was necessary. They believe that there were ulterior motives for us to send our troops overseas to fight. Maybe they're right. I'm not in government, so I don't know.

But the fact is, the troops are doing their job, and doing it well. On May 2 of this year, our military (specifically the Navy SEALS) managed to take out the man who had planned the attacks of September 11th: Osama Bin Laden. The man who had killed thousands of innocent American civilians (and who, no doubt, would have tried to kill more had we given him the chance) was dead.

As we've fought that war, we've also managed to bring some peace and liberty to countries that had previously been fraught with war and tyranny. A lot of good has been done.

So, even if you don't agree with the war, you can't deny that our military servicemen are doing their jobs. These men and women signed up to help protect this country. A lot of them made that decision because of 9/11, and the events of that day. They wanted to do their part to prevent such a thing from ever happening again. It's a noble thing that they're doing, and they deserve our respect and appreciation.

My husband is one of those who signed up to join the military after 9/11 happened. It was a few years later, but it was still a factor. We were engaged at the time, so he discussed it with me first. He told me that he wanted to be part of the first line of defense, so that he could do his part to protect me and our family.

It wasn't enough for him to hope that our country remained safe. He wanted to be actively working to protect America, the citizens living here, and especially his family. And I think that what happened on September 11th, 2001 is probably a big part of the reason he made that decision. I know the events of that day are a big part of the reason that I supported him 100% in his decision. Being a military spouse isn't fun, but I'm completely proud that my husband has chosen to help protect our country.

All of us were changed on 9/11. Some of the changes were temporary, some will be with us forever. But one thing is certain. It's been ten years, and I still remember that day clearly. It will be with me forever. Some people may have let themselves forget the tragedy of that day, and the unity they felt for a little while with their fellow Americans. They may have forgotten the nature of the evil we've been fighting against in the War on Terror. But not all of us have forgotten.

I speak for myself and my family when I say: We will never forget!

Another Good Old-Fashioned Rant

2011-09-03T13:12:00.000-06:00

There are many things I have an opinion on. Some are more frivolous than others. But today I'm going to give a few of them a moment or two in the spotlight.

First off - The Hunger Games. I love the books, and I'm excited about the movies, but seriously. How long are we going to drag out the whole movie-promoting process? It's getting to the point where I'm actually not all that excited about the movies anymore. Already I'm getting tired of the hype. And the first movie doesn't even come out for another seven months or so!

The teaser trailer that MTV made such a huge production over? No big deal. Kind of boring, really. Very anti-climactic.

The constant barrage of articles online claiming they have sneak peeks behind the scenes? Not so much. They have all the same stuff everyone else has.

The blatant self-promotion put forth by the Hunger Games movie people? Look, fan art! Oooh! Look, a sweepstakes to win a mockingjay pin! Oooh! Look! A one-in-a-billion chance to go to Hollywood and see the set! Oooh!

It would be delightful if they just gave it a break for a while. You're ruining my love of The Hunger Games trilogy, people!!!!

*****

Something more serious that bothers me is the reputation the military has for being notorious for infidelity. I realize that, chances are, there really is more infidelity in the military than there is in the civilian world. Husbands and wives have to spend a lot of time away from each other, and for some people (those with serious self-control issues), that leads to cheating. In fact, I believe there are even some people in the military for whom the military's poor reputation was a draw. There are, unfortunately, people in the world who don't believe in the sanctity of marriage. They figure they'll get married for the benefits that go with that, and get whatever other action they may desire on the side. They don't take their marriages seriously. And being in the military gives them lots of opportunities to get away from their spouse and have a little "fun." Therefore, the military lifestyle appeals to them. That may even be part of the reason why they joined the military in the first place! In that regard, the military's reputation becomes kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy.

It's unfortunate, but I know that it does happen. The thing that really bothers me, though, is when people assume that your marriage is going to fail just because your husband is in the military. They assume that one or the other of you will definitely cheat. Your marriage is doomed!

I got a taste of this when I posted a comment on this topic on spousebuzz.com. The article talked statistics about the levels of infidelity in the military. The statistics were from the 90s, though, so it was old information. The article was discussing whether or not those statistics are still accurate today, among other things. The article is here: http://spousebuzz.com/blog/2011/08/infidelity-divorce-more-common-among-vets.html

I posted this comment: "That's kind of nuts that they're basing their study on information that came out when a lot of the current military force were still in elementary school (my husband, for example).

I suppose their information COULD be accurate, but they certainly would need a lot more information to really back it up. And in the long run, I think the generalizations out there about military servicemen and women being more likely to cheat could be sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy. It's possible that there are some people who join the military because of its reputation in regards to adultery (whether or not that reputation is deserved). It may appeal to them because they know they'll be spending a lot of time away from their families and therefore have opportunities to cheat.

At the same time, though, I don't think being in the military makes people MORE likely to cheat. The military lifestyle may be a draw for people who don't want to be monogamous, but I believe that people who truly love their spouse and don't want to hurt them (and who are willing to work at their marriage when things are tough) will remain fervently committed to each other in spite of their time apart. In fact, their time apart will probably make their marriage and their love stronger.
I'm lucky enough to be in that latter category. I know for a fact that my husband is as crazy about me as I am about him. I also know that he's 100% committed to me, and to our family - and vice versa. There's no possible way we would ever be unfaithful to one another. It definitely makes the separations easier. I'm so grateful that cheating is not something I have to stress out about (on top of everything else!) while he's gone."
Some people agreed, more or less, with my comments, but a large number had only negative reactions. One, posted as a direct reply to my comment, stated, "That's what I thought, too," then proceeded to talk about how his naivete was rewarded with a cheating spouse and a costly divorce. I know he was just sharing his side, but at the same time, it felt like he was calling me an idiot for believing that my marriage will succeed. And many of the other comments felt the same way.

Here's the thing. Even if the percentage of cheating spouses is higher in the military than it is in the civilian world, it's still not such a high number that we can accept so many generalizations about how military marriages are doomed to failure. The cheaters are still in the minority. Most military marriages are strong. Most spouses are dedicated to each other. And frankly, the deployments and constant time spent apart can actually make marriages stronger! You develop a greater appreciation for your spouse. You don't take them for granted. You learn to be selfless, and put their needs before your own.

Being in a military marriage does not mean you or your spouse is automatically going to cheat. Believe it or not, there is such a thing as self-control. There is also such a thing as dedication. And loyalty. And love!

When you truly love your spouse, and you're willing to do absolutely whatever it takes to make your marriage work, your marriage will be a success.

I truly feel terrible for all the people who have suffered because of cheating spouses. It's wrong on absolutely every level, and there's no excuse for it. None! But it really does bother me when people in the military all get a bad rep because of the few sleazy cheaters.

My husband adores me, and I adore him. We're madly in love, and 100% dedicated to each other. He will never cheat on me, and I will absolutely never cheat on him.

So please stop trying to convince me otherwise!

*****

So, apparently PETA is no longer content to just post pictures of naked celebrities, demean those who are struggling with obesity, and throw buckets of blood on people. They've decided that what they really need to do is start their own porn website! Awesome, right???

Their plan is to intersperse x-rated pictures with photos of animals being slaughtered and tortured. Aside from the fact that most people would consider pornography addiction to be far more damaging than eating the occasional piece of chicken, there are other issues. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm not sure that this grand idea will help their cause. In fact, it will probably do just the opposite. Think about it for a minute.

If you still don't see the problem, maybe this Wikipedia entry will clarify: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ivan_Pavlov

There are already plenty of sick people in the world. We really don't need PETA creating more of them.

Enough said.

Stay classy, PETA.

*****

There's an Air Force Ball in a couple of weeks! Fun, right? Yeah, except for the part where they scheduled it at pretty much the worst possible time.

The guys from the current deployment (Ben included) will probably not be back by then. And the guys going on the next deployment will already be gone! So, they pretty much scheduled this event exactly wrong. There's a very small window of time where you could schedule something to exclude people from two squadrons, out on consecutive deployments. And yet, that's exactly what they did.

I get that this is a B-1 base, and that the C-130 squadrons here are not the main focus of the base. But seriously? They don't get any consideration at all??? I mean, they scheduled this Ball so perfectly wrong, it's incredible.

I'm a little bitter about it, can you tell? I get that the C-130 guys are second-class citizens compared to the B-1 guys, but this is stupid. All they had to do was move the Ball one week in either direction and they would have been able to accommodate the guys from either the group that are deploying, or the group that are returning. One week in either direction!!! And the B-1 guys wouldn't have been affected, so what does it matter to them?

It's stupid and annoying. And that's all I have to say about that.

*****

CHILI'S HAS STOPPED SELLING WHITE CHOCOLATE MOLTEN CAKE!!!!

Seriously, what is up with that???

I'm not a big fan of desserts at restaurants. They always have the same basic things: cheesecake, a brownie with ice cream, a chocolate chip cookie with ice cream, apple cobbler, and a piece of chocolate cake. Every once in a while you might find something different, but those are the basics. And I'm not saying these desserts are bad, but they're nothing special - especially for $6 each. I could make something like that at home for a lot cheaper, and usually it will taste better to me, too.

Every rare once in a while, though, a restaurant comes up with a dessert that I absolutely love! Usually it's something that I can't find anywhere else, and that I don't have the ability to create myself.

For a while, Applebee's had this amazing dessert called "apple chimi-cheesecake." It was a dessert chimichanga, with warm apple-cinnamon cheesecake inside, covered in cinnamon and sugar. It was amazing.

But they stopped selling it. I'm still sad about that.

Then, I discovered Chili's white chocolate molten cake!

They have a couple of other kinds of molten cake, as well. They always have regular chocolate molten cake, and from time to time they've also had chocolate chip molten cake and chocolate-peanut-butter molten cake.

None of those impressed me, though. They were too rich, and not super tasty.

The white chocolate molten cake, though... So. Ridiculously. Good.

It was really the only reason I ever went to Chili's. I've never been all that impressed with their food. They seem addicted to jalapenos and other similar spices, and I'm just not a super-spicy kind of person. But because of the cake, I was a frequent customer.

But a few months ago they stopped selling white chocolate molten cake! Seriously, Chili's????

Another fabulous dessert has gone extinct. Just like the apple chimi-cheesecake.

And now I have no motivation to go to Chili's anymore.

I suppose it's a good thing, since I'm on a diet, but still. What's the deal, Chili's?????

Rant over. Cassie out.

Reintegration

2011-08-28T14:18:00.001-06:00

I found myself thinking, today, about the day Evie was born.

Ben was the ultimate husband during the labor process. He was at my side constantly, leaving only to fetch me ice chips. He rubbed my back, called our family and friends, and waited on me hand and foot. Every time I started going through a contraction, he would gently encourage me through it, watching the monitor and keeping me updated on the contraction's strength and duration.

I was very grateful for his love and attention. At the same time, I was fairly amused by his efforts to help.

Let's be honest: I didn't really need a play-by-play on how my contraction was going. I was feeling it firsthand, and I definitely could tell when it was building up, and when it was ending. And after my epidural I couldn't feel them at all - so why did it matter whether they were coming or going?

But I took his efforts for what they were: a desperate attempt by a loving husband to help his wife get through the labor process.

He knew that I was facing something difficult. I had already spent months dealing with this new creature as she grew inside of me. I had developed stretch marks, back pains, and cankles. I had gone through morning sickness, fatigue, moodiness, and huge physical changes. And now the grand finale was facing me. I was going to be pushing a (9 lbs 3 oz) human being out of my body.

And there was nothing he could really do to help.

So, he just did his best. And I love him for it.

But now, our roles are reversed. It's my turn to feel helpless as I watch my husband go through something difficult. Something that I can't really help him with.

He's coming home from his first deployment sometime in the next month or so. He has spent months away from us. He's had to learn new routines, adjust to different people, and face dangerous situations. He has probably changed quite a bit in his time away. Who knows what kinds of things he's had to deal with, being deployed? He's off fighting a war, and no one can say that military careers are easy. There's a reason why veterans are so honored. They go through a lot.

Coming home is going to be a huge adjustment for Ben. Even though he has a fairly "safe" job as a pilot, and doesn't really see any hand-to-hand combat in his line of work, there's a big difference between life on a deployment and life at home with your family. It's probably going to take him some time to get totally back to normal.

Just as he couldn't really relate to what I was dealing with when I was going through labor, I can't really relate to what he'll be going through when he gets home. I have no idea what life has really been like for him over these past months. My husband has always been fairly close-lipped. It's entirely possible that he's had experiences that he hasn't shared with me, either because he couldn't, or because he didn't want to worry me. It wouldn't be the first time a husband has waited until he was safely home to share certain stories with his wife. And knowing Ben, I might never hear all of his stories.

I don't mean to let my overactive imagination get away with me, though. That's just a worst-case scenario. Even if he had an incredibly mild experience, though, and had nothing dangerous or scary happen during his time in the Middle East, there will be an adjustment period when he gets home. And I'm not really sure what to do to help him get through it.

It's tough, feeling helpless. When you love somebody, you want to do everything in your power to help them. And sometimes that just isn't possible. Sometimes, you just have to keep loving them the best way you know how, and pray that it all comes together.

I'm lucky, though. My husband isn't on the front line of battle in Afghanistan. He isn't disarming bombs or driving tanks. He hasn't had to watch any of his friends die in front of him. He should come home relatively unscathed. The same can't be said for a lot of our brave men and women fighting in the Middle East.

I hope you'll keep our military in your prayers. Even if you disagree with the war they're fighting, you should respect the fact that they're willing to put their lives on the line to protect your freedoms. They fight to keep the rest of us safe. And many of them come home with physical and psychological scars. Their reintegration with their families may never be completely successful.

I'm excited beyond words to see my husband again. I love him more than anything, and I will stand by him no matter what. Hopefully he'll see my love for him in my weak efforts to help him reintegrate at home, just as I saw his love for me in his efforts to help me through labor. Hopefully my handsome pilot will come home with a sound body and mind. Hopefully reintegration is a breeze.

And hopefully you'll remember our brave servicemen and women in your prayers. They and their families deserve that, at the absolute least.

Things I Learned on My Vacation

2011-07-28T18:55:00.000-06:00

I've been on vacation for the past six weeks, visiting my family in Idaho and Utah. About a week into the trip, I saw things and learned things that amused me, so I began keeping a record. Now that my vacation is over, I can share my wisdom with all of you lovely people!

1 - Menopause is no big deal. (Granted, I have less estrogen than most women, so that's probably why it's been a breeze for me.)

2 - Nobody wants to see your butt crack, no matter how cute a bum you may think you have.

3 - Trampolines are way more fun when they're wet.

4 - Revving your engine repeatedly at a red light does not make you look cool. You just look like an idiot. Especially when you're the only one doing it.

5 - Bugs on a windshield make a lovely abstract photo.

6 - If your brother is grouchy, and no attempt to cheer him up is working, try presenting him with a wiener dog to play with.

7 - My little wiener dog, Bones, is a bit of a masochist. He's happiest when getting his butt kicked by my parents' big chocolate lab, Bella.

8 - No matter how old he gets, I can still get my younger brother to cross-dress.

9 - The house must always be tidied up before the maid gets there to clean it.

10 - Flash floods can create wonderful swimming holes in the street in front of one's house.

11 - Some people just look better when they're pixellated.

12 - New babies can never have too many "My Aunt is the best!" onesies.

13 - No matter how nice a guy may smell in person, his bedroom is probably stinky.

14 - Wiener dogs are escape artists, and prefer to make their escape while people are actually playing with them in the (fenced-in) back yard. I believe this is referred to in the doggie world as "showing off."

15 - If you take a party-sized bag of M'n'Ms downstairs, forget about them, and your brother eats them all, you're the one who gets the blame.

16 - Apparently my brother, Joseph, will let just about anybody pick his nose - including Chuck Norris.

17 - The Mad Hatter looks best when portrayed by a fabulous four-year-old girl.

18 - It's hard to hit a tennis ball with a tee-ball bat when your pants are falling down.

19 - If you want your kid to eat veggies, let her pick them from the garden herself and eat them with her bare hands.

20 - Preparing to send your child to school for the first time will be far scarier for you than for your child.

21 - Dancing, swimming, and jumping on a trampoline are the world's best forms of exercise. Hands down.

22 - People are incredibly stupid about their pets.

23 - Who needs makeup when you have pink markers?

24 - I'm terrible at remembering how to cut my brother's hair. When I do remember, I do fine. But when I don't remember, horrifying things happen. Note to self: Razor for Ben, SCISSORS for Daniel!!!!

25 - Evie's hips don't lie.

26 - Actual working road construction workers are more elusive and impossibly rare than leprechauns.

27 - More than 8 hours of sleep a night will make me fat. Less than 9 will make me cranky.

28 - Any prolonged conversation with a pregnant woman will inevitably turn to the wonders (aka "horrors") of childbirth and a competition to see who has given birth to the biggest baby. (Evie was 9 lbs 3 oz. Just sayin'.)

29 - My 11-year-old brother, Joseph, will make a wonderful mother someday.

30 - Just because you can squeeze into a size 2 bikini doesn't mean you should, folks. Muffin tops and fat rolls = not cute.

31 - If you want to see tacky, badly-dressed people who apparently don't own a mirror, there are better places to go than Wal-Mart. Try the Idaho Falls Fourth of July celebration. Wow. Just... wow.

32 - Heckling children's camp skits is fun! Also, said heckling is generally frowned upon by said children's parental units.

33 - There's a real life person named "Fritz Schmutz"!!! Awesome, right??? I'm so jealous.

34 - Inside jokes are always funny, even long after the meaning behind them has been forgotten. Mraaah. Gimmie a fish.

And finally, the strangest of all:

35 - People back home in Abilene actually miss me when I'm gone! Crazy, huh?

There! Now that I've passed my vacation wisdom on to you, go forth and discover knowledge of your own! ;)

Overactive Imagination

2011-07-22T12:18:00.004-06:00

I inherited something super-fun from my mother, who, as I've recently learned, seems to have inherited it from her mother. It's called "an overactive imagination."

For those of you who may be unfamiliar with this particular issue, let me explain. What happens is usually something along these lines: "I haven't talk to so-and-so lately, even though they said they'd call. They must be dead."

There's also the ever-popular "I have a really bad headache today. I wonder if it's a brain tumor?"

And, "I heard a faint noise in my house. It's the middle of the night. I'd better grab the nearest weapon (aka, a safety razor from the bathroom) and go make sure my daughter isn't being kidnapped."

My mother and I (and probably my grandma, too) all recognize that we have this problem. We're completely aware that our fears are almost certainly unfounded. We even laugh about it. But not until after we know for sure that our fears were not, in fact, realized.

Don't get me wrong, though. It's not like I spend all my time in a perpetual state of worry. And I'm not a hypochondriac. I've never once actually gone to the doctor because of headaches that might be brain tumors. I recognize that it's just my overactive imagination at work, and let it go.

But when something unexpected happens, like a sound in the night, my imagination goes into overdrive. I find myself in a state of extreme nervousness. I have to make sure all is well before I can relax.

And that's what I'm waiting for today. My husband is deployed at the moment, so naturally I fear for his safety. But I hear from him every day, which reassures me and keeps my imagination at bay. The problem is, I haven't heard from him since Wednesday. Today is supposed to be his day off from flying, so there's no reason he should be unreachable. And yet, I can't reach him.

My mind is telling me that it's silly to be worried. He's probably fine. He may be napping, or at the gym. And maybe he got in so late last night that we just didn't get a chance to talk. There's no reason to be freaking out yet.

And I'm not freaking out. But, thanks to my overactive imagination, I'm slowly getting there.

Let's face facts! He is in a dangerous situation. He's fighting a war, for crying out loud! He's living in a part of the world where there are multitudes of people who want to kill him, and every other member of our military. Granted, since he's a pilot, he's probably safer than a lot of the other servicemen and women. But that doesn't mean that he's guaranteed to be safe. When someone is in the military, there's always a greater chance that they'll be killed or wounded, compared to those who work in regular jobs, like accounting or plumbing. So my fears aren't completely unreasonable.

So that's where I'm at today. Worrying about my husband, and trying to convince myself that it's just my imagination working overtime. To be fair, it probably is just my imagination. There's no reason to assume the worst. But I can't seem to help it.

It's in my genes.

The Calm After the Storm

2011-07-18T14:57:00.003-06:00

I realized today why it is that I don't write in my blog much anymore.

Writing is a catharsis. It helps me vent my frustration in a non-violent way. Over the past four (almost) years, as we've struggled with infertility, I've turned to this blog to try and express my feelings.

This year, though, I've finally reached the point where I'm okay. And now that I'm okay, I don't feel the need to vent anymore. Ergo, no blogs.

But that isn't really fair. For anyone who actually reads this blog, all they've seen are the negative, venting, frustrated feelings that I've expressed. They haven't seen the resolution. I've kept it to myself.

So, even though I've already written one blog entry today, I'm going to write another one and explain the change that has overcome me in the past 6 months or so.

On Christmas Eve of last year, we did a candle-passing with Ben's family. It's a family tradition. What happens is, we turn off the lights, sit in a circle, and pass a candle around. When it's your turn to take the candle, you share with everyone a gift that you want to give to the Savior. It's kind of like making a New Year's resolution, only more meaningful.

When it was my turn to take the candle, I had a hard time speaking. The infertility issue had been weighing heavily on me for more than three years. I was tired of feeling bitter, angry, and heartbroken. It had been a very emotional three years. So I said, "For my gift to the Savior this year, I'm going to make a greater effort to embrace His will for me."

That had been the problem all along, of course. I was frustrated because the Lord wasn't blessing me with a child right then, like I wanted Him to. He was making me wait, and in my opinion, it was taking too long. I would panic about the age gap between Evie and the next kid. Every time I thought about how much older Evie would be, I would find myself muttering, "It's too much! It's too much!" I would decide when the best time to get pregnant was, and then spend that month begging the Lord to finally give me a baby. And when He didn't, I always felt hurt and a little bit betrayed.

I wasn't accepting His will. I was trying to make Him accept mine.

So I made my promise to the Savior; that I would to try and change all that.

For the first month, it was still very hard. I had an opportunity to go see Ben on his TDY in Utah during January, right when I was ovulating. I had just had a test done for my infertility, and the doctor said that the test would make my chances of conceiving that month increase. When a friend gave Evie and me free plane tickets to Utah so that Ben and I could try and conceive that month, it felt like a sign that the time was right. It seemed like everything was falling exactly into place, and that it was finally going to happen.

When it didn't, my heart ripped apart all over again.

But I reminded myself of the promise I had made to the Savior. So I took a deep breath, calmed down, and said a prayer. I asked God to bless me with patience, and the ability to not only accept His will for me, but to embrace it.

That became a familiar refrain in each of my prayers after that. I began adding, "if it by Thy will" and "Thy will be done" to everything I said in my prayers. And, miraculously, I truly began to want it.

In just a few short months, the pain in my heart had been healed. Looking back, I'm still astounded by how quickly it happened. I had a complete change of heart. As a result, I'm happier. I have more joy in my life. I feel a greater love for my family, and for the Lord. And, most importantly, I'm at peace when it comes to the infertility issue.

I still firmly believe that we will have more children. I know they're coming. I can already feel them residing in my heart. But I no longer obsess over it. I no longer glare at pregnant women on the street. I no longer compare the number of children others have to the one I've been blessed with. I no longer fight the Lord, or try to make Him do things my way.

My testimony has been increased an hundredfold. I can feel the Lord's arms around me, giving me strength and patience. I can feel His incredible love for me. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that He wants me to be happy. He wants to bless me with every good thing He has to offer. If He isn't blessing me with children right this second, it's because it's not time yet. Everything He does is for a wise purpose. He can see what my life holds, and He knows what will give me the greatest joy. If I continue to trust in Him, and put my life in His hands,

I will have more joy than I can possibly comprehend.

This trial has surely been for my good, and though infertility has been hard, I thank God that I had to go through this. It has made me a better person. I am, one tiny step at a time, becoming the woman God wants me to be.

My heart has been changed. My faith has been increased. My pain has been healed.

All is well.

Pre-K

2011-07-18T14:32:00.004-06:00

So, Evie is a smart kid. She doesn't miss much. Her memory is fantastic; she can quote a movie almost word-for-word after seeing it once (if she liked it and was paying attention). She can already count to forty, and could probably go higher if I told her the words for 50, 60, etc. She knows letters and the sounds they make, and can read small words if she feels so inclined. She does basic addition and subtraction in her head.

But she missed the cutoff for kindergarten this year by two weeks.

Sad, isn't it? She's such a little smartie, and she loves learning. She should be in school with all of her friends from church! But she was born two weeks too late.

I decided, therefore, that she needed to do pre-k this year. I didn't do pre-k, and in fact, it's only recently that I even heard of it, but I knew she needed to do some kind of schooling. She's just too bored at home. So I started looking around, and pre-k seems like the thing to do.

The great part is, it's free for military dependents in Abilene.

The downside is, there are a LOT of military families in Abilene. Couple that with the kids who qualify for free lunches, and what you get is too many kids and not enough spots in pre-k.

There's a school registration fair for military families on base in August, so I'm going to try to sign her up then. My assumption is, if the school representatives are coming to the registration fair, they must have some slots open. I'm praying that we get one.

But now that I've got it all planned out, the reality is starting to sink in. From what I understand, pre-k is just like regular school. She'll be gone for most of the day, five days a week. For almost five years now she's been my shadow, my little buddy, my constant companion. Now, with Ben being gone so much between deployments and TDYs, I'm going to be alone a lot of the time.

I'm not afraid of being alone. In fact, part of me is looking forward to it. But the other part is starting to PANIC!!!

I'm going to miss her, for one thing. She's such a fun kid, and I love having her around all the time, so that will be hard. But this is also a sign that she's growing up. Once they start school, they don't stop until after they've moved out of the house! Never again will I have my tiny shadow with me all day, every day. There will be summers, yes, but that's just a few weeks out of every year. Then she'll be gone all day again.

The biggest source of my anxiety, though, is that I will no longer be her lone source of answers and teaching moments. She'll be surrounded by different kinds of people, many with different kinds of values, who will have all different kinds of influences on her. Of course, I'll still be an influence at home. But how long will it be before she thinks I'm

lame, and starts turning to other people for guidance instead of me?

All I can do is pray that she makes good friends, friends who will help her make good choices. That's the scariest thing. She will no longer be under my lone influence, in my controlled environment all the time. She's taking her first steps out into the real world. And I'm afraid of what might happen.

But she's a smart kid. She's already got a testimony, and isn't afraid to share her values with other people. She may even be an good influence on other kids. I know she'll be a good example.

It's a little bit terrifying to let my baby step out into the world,

and grow up. But I've got God on my side, and I know that He wants what's best for her, just like I do. Between Him, me, and my wonderful husband, she's got a good team of people watching out for her. I've just got to trust in Him, and keep doing my best to raise her right when she's at home.

It's a scary thing, but it's a wonderful thing, too.

A Two-Way Street

2011-05-10T14:57:00.003-06:00

Wow! I really don't blog much anymore, do I? Well, hopefully I can get back into it this summer, while my husband is deployed and I don't have a lot to do. :)

I was thinking the other day (weird, I know), and I realized that, while I have lots of friends, I don't have many close friends. I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that I moved around so much growing up. Don't get me wrong, I'm not upset about my upbringing! I think moving around was a wonderful thing for me, and is the reason that I became the person I am today. Moving around gave me experiences that I never would have had if I'd lived in the same place all my life. It made me a more open-minded, tolerant, understanding person than I probably would have been. You can't live in a dozen different places without getting to know hundreds of different kinds of people, and seeing the good in all of them, no matter how different they are from you.

So yeah, even though I hated it at the time, I absolutely see the value in the way I was raised. That's why I have no problem with being married to a military man, and raising my own children the same way. I know it will be really good for them.

The problem with moving around, though, is that it's really hard to make lasting friendships when you only get to know someone for a year or two. Once you move away, that pretty much fizzles out the relationship. At least, it's always been that way for me. I do have a few friends that I still keep in touch with, but it's just not the same once you don't live close by anymore. And most people, unfortunately, are pretty terrible at keeping in touch. I know, I'm one of them! There may be some contact through emails and sites like Facebook, but there's not much.

Sometimes it strikes me how sad it is that I don't have very many close friends. But, to be honest, my family are my best friends. And my husband is my absolute best friend in the entire world. So I can't complain. I've got it pretty good.

Still, women need other women to talk to. We're social animals, and we need that kind of interaction! I'm fairly good at introducing myself to people, although it takes me a while to get really comfortable with them. I manage to make a few friends everywhere I go. The thing is, though, that most people do have several close friends. Most people don't grow up moving all over the world. So, when I make friends with people, even though they consider me a friend, they rarely consider me to be one of their close friends.

For me, though, they are my closest friends! I don't have anyone else. So it's kind of unbalanced. There's always a sense of "I like them more than they like me." I'm not saying that my friends don't like me! But there's usually someone else that they like more. Someone may be my best friend, but I'm not usually theirs.

Again, don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to sound sad or pitiful! I have a fantastic life, and I'm content with the way things turned out. I'm just trying to explain how most of my friendships tend to feel, so that you'll understand just how GREAT the next part is!

Here in Abilene, I feel like I've finally found a friend who actually likes me as much as I like her! Crazy, right? It's so great!

Part of it working out that way is probably due to the fact that her family moved here just a couple of weeks before we did. So, when we got here, she still hadn't had a chance to make many friends. The door was wide open. We each recognized that both of us were new, and decided that, since we didn't really have friends here yet, we'd befriend each other.

We were talking about it a couple of weeks ago, actually. One of our first weeks here in Abilene, I ended up sitting next to this fabulous lady at church. She mentioned that her husband was our home teacher, and we chatted for a while. I went home and told Ben, "I'm totally going to be friends with her." Little did I know, she said the same thing about me, to her husband! How funny is that!

It didn't happen right away, of course. She was so cool, and so pretty, that I wasn't entirely sure that she'd want to hang out with a geek like me (I'm not really as confident as I pretend to be). But she was totally friendly, too, and as time went by, we became friends. Now, she's my absolute favorite person in Abilene (excluding my daughter and hubby, of course. Family first!). We talk on Facebook, and I end up laughing so hard that Ben has to check on me to make sure I'm not having a stroke. We hang out, our kids play together, we come up with evil schemes, and hold wagers on things like who can read Harry Potter the fastest. We're planning a sleepover for when our husbands are both out of town. She even let me give her a makeover (not that she needed it)! What, are we 12??? Yeah, pretty much.

I'm actually looking forward to being here in Abilene for the next three years. As much as I hate how hot it is, and as much as I hate Ben having to be deployed all the time, I get the impression that I may finally be forming a lasting friendship. I have the feeling that, once one or the other of us moves away, that's not going to be the end of it. I have very few friends that I can say that about, so it's really exciting!

I could be entirely wrong, of course. Maybe she doesn't actually like me as much as I like her. But if that's the case, she hides it well, so that's good enough for me. It's such an odd feeling, having that kind of friendship! It's great, though!

It's like I told her the other day, "I'm sorry you had to move to Abilene, but I'm so glad you're here!"

A Year in Retrospect

2011-01-01T11:57:00.043-07:00

So, I haven't blogged in a long time. For some reason, I just don't do it much anymore. So I thought I'd take a page out of my sister's book, and talk about the past year.

In January, we were living in Oklahoma while Ben was finishing up his pilot training. The weather was nuts! One day, we had clear, beautiful spring weather, and the very next day we had our biggest snowstorm of the season. We attempted to make a snowman, but it really wasn't packing snow, so he was more of a snow blob. We loved him anyway.

Evie started dance classes, and she was loving it! We assumed we would be in Oklahoma until May, at least. We even booked a cruise based on this belief. After all, it was how things seemed to go for every other pilot graduate. They had a couple of months after graduation to get ready to move and to do some of their survival training. Why should we be any different?

The next month, we discovered that Ben's first post would be to fly C-130s in Texas! On a list of 23 possibilities, it was probably our 20th choice. Lucky us. Most people get somewhere in their top 5 choices. We were (understandably, I think) less than thrilled.

Graduation was good, though. Some of Ben's family got to come out and celebrate with us. Ben looked so handsome in his uniform, it almost made me feel better about the fact that they were shipping him off for water training immediately. And after water training, they sent him straight to Little Rock for 6 months of C-130 training. Literally right after. I think he got to come home for half a day. This meant that, not only did we have to cancel our cruise and pull Evie out of dance classes, I got to pack up our entire house completely by myself! Thanks, Air Force!

When we got to Little Rock in March, we bought a new car. Yay! We love him. Evie named him "Big Jet" after the bad guy in Little Einsteins. She'd already named our Camry "Rocket Car," after Rocket in the same show, so it seemed only fair. She did insist, however, that our Big Jet is a good guy. He's an '08 Rav4 and we love him - especially now that Rocket Car is starting to die. We went to buy Big Jet on a Monday, which meant he had to spend the whole time in his blues uniform. Poor Ben.

Also in March, Evie insisted that I take a bunch of pictures of her in her dance clothes. That girl LOVES to have her picture taken! And she's so adorable - how could I resist?

In April, of course, we had Easter. We were in a small, 2-bedroom apartment, and didn't have most of our furniture with us. Needless to say, there weren't a lot of good hiding places. But we did our best, and Evie enjoyed the Easter egg hunt, so I guess it was a success!

We went with a group of other parents and kids to watch the ducks march down the red carpet at the Peabody Hotel later in April. They come strutting down the red carpet to a John Philip Sousa marching tune, then climb the stairs into the fountain in the lobby and swim around there for a while. It was very cute, and extremely weird.

Evie participated in her first talent show in April, too! She sang "Once Upon a Dream" with her Dad. It took some work to get her started, but once she did start singing, she stole the show. At least, that's my opinion.

Ben got promoted to 2nd Lieutenant in May! Hooray for Ben! Hooray for a pay raise!

Near the end of May we had a long weekend, so the three of us and our friend Grant drove to Six Flags in Dallas. We played all that day, then stayed at a hotel that night. The next day, we went to the Ripley's Museum and the attached wax museum. We also went through a mirror maze. It was really fun, although not as fun as the cruise would have been. Yes, I'm still a little bitter.

Ben's birthday was at the very end of May, and I threw him a surprise party. Thank goodness he takes after my Dad, and is extremely easy to surprise. I love that about him. Evie asked me to get him a pinata, and helped me pick out a dinosaur for him. Besides Evie, there were no kids, only Air Force officers. So I got a soft bat, in the hopes that it would make the pinata last longer. No such luck - Katie decapitated the poor thing almost immediately. I should have seen it coming. Katie is freaking awesome.

We also went ice skating at the end of May. It was Evie's first time. She had a blast. Ben and me, not so much. You see, Evie's idea of ice skating is to dangle all of her dead weight from her parents' arms and let them slide her around the ice. It may look to the untrained eye like she's got a little of her weight on her skates, but trust me, she doesn't. It was the best workout I'd had all year!

In June, I had a birthday and Evie hit a couple of milestones. She was invited to her first birthday party. She got a big-girl bike with training wheels (it was a bike party), and ended up having her Dad push her most of the way. Still, she had fun, and she won the egg-carrying race for her team. :)

Evie also learned how to put her whole head under the water at the pool in June! I was so impressed, I don't think I ever got really comfortable with it until I was in swimming lessons. Evie is fearless. She'll even open her eyes underwater.

And, of course, in June we went to see Toy Story 3. We loved it so much that we immediately went to the store and spend about $60 on toys just like the ones in the movie. Curse you and your incredible movies, Pixar!!!

In July we decided that we might try looking into adoption. We saw, though, that we couldn't start the process until we moved to Texas, so it got put off for a while. We did take some nice adoption portfolio pictures, though, thanks to my beautiful and talented aunt, Kristi. Of course, those weren't actually taken until October. Still, July is when we got the ball rolling.

At the end of July, Evie and I left Ben in Little Rock and went to visit our family in Idaho. We went to the Hirschi reunion, and Evie won the "Miss America" contest with a monologue from Lilo and Stitch. Isn't she lovely? Isn't she a pearl?

We also attended Ben's family's reunion up in Island Park. It was right on the river, which made me a little nervous, but there were plenty of aunts and uncles helping to keep the little ones out of the river. And the kids loved it! They even caught a frog!

August was eventful because, first off, Big Jet got rear-ended by a drunk driver while my mom and I were in the car, on our way to get ice cream for my mom's birthday. Yes, it was her birthday. The driver hit us while we were stopped at a red light, then backed up and hit us again, in order to push us far enough into the intersection that he could drive away. Happy Birthday, Mom! Some nice girls chased him down for us and the police caught him. Thank goodness! The repairs were pretty expensive. The whole back of the car had to be replaced.

We went down to Utah to visit my siblings there (and because my mom had an eye appointment). While we were in Salt Lake, we visited Temple Square and went on a horse-drawn carriage ride. Evie was so excited about the horse. And it was just after dark, so the weather was cool and gorgeous.

At the end of August, my mom, brother, Evie, and I all went to Disneyland - another first for Evie. We got to California on a Thursday afternoon, so we decided to go to Santa Monica Pier for a while. It was beautiful!

We spent two days in the park. It was crowded and hot, but it was so fun! It's really all about atmosphere, is what we decided. On the first day, Evie got to meet Tinkerbell and Minnie Mouse. She was in heaven!

On the second day, Evie and I had a lunch with the Disney princesses planned. We dressed Evie up in her Belle costume. She looked so beautiful. It was fun, but she was less than impressed with the princesses - probably because none of them really look anything like the cartoons. The real highlight of the day for Evie was when Sully (from Monsters, Inc.) bowed to her and kissed her hand. She curtsied back (!!!so cute!!!), then ran up and gave him a hug. It was so. Freaking. Adorable. Anyway, Disneyland was a great success.September was fairly uneventful, because Mom and Joseph started school again. Evie and I got to visit with my dad, who was home for a vacation from Iraq, so that was great. Aside from that, all was pretty quiet. Ben was in survival training, and we got to see him for Labor Day weekend, but the rest of the time he was basically cut off from us. Stressful. On the up side, Evie wrote a letter to Santa Claus, her first letter that she actually wrote herself. I had to show her how to shape some of the letters, and help with the spelling, but she wrote it herself!
In October, Evie and Alyssa celebrated their birthdays together in Utah, and back in Idaho I took Evie's annual birthday pictures.

The next weekend, because Ben had finally finished survival training and was in Idaho with us (yay!) we had Evie's birthday party. Since she's an October baby, it was a costume party. Everyone dressed up - I was so impressed!

A couple of weeks later, we officially moved to Texas. We got to go to a couple of different Halloween parties, so Evie took the opportunity to wear different costumes to each one.

In November, we adopted a dog! We named him Bones McCoy. "Dammit, Jim, I'm a dauschund, not a scientist!" It took some work to get him housetrained, and he needs a bath every week or he gets really stinky, but we love him. For Thanksgiving, we made our own "Thankful Turkey," something we got from Ben's family. Isn't he cute??Thanksgiving was fun. It was just the three of us and Bones McCoy. We kept it simple, but it was really special all the same. We played games, ate good food, and the very next day we put up the Christmas decorations!

In December, Evie danced in The Nutcracker with her dance school (we enrolled her at the beginning of November). It was so cute. She looked completely comfortable on the stage - I was so proud!

After her show was done, we went back to Idaho to have Christmas with our families! We haven't had a chance to see both of our families for Christmas at the same time since... well, ever. My family is usually overseas. It was a great stroke of luck that both of our families were in the same city this year. It was a short vacation, but we loved seeing them. :) Did I mention that Evie got that dollhouse for Christmas? And that Ben made it with his own hands? Well, she did, and he did. And that's 2010 in a huge nutshell. Lots of milestones reached, lots of things going on, lots of laughter and joy. Let's hope that 2011 turns out so well!

A Good Old-Fashioned Rant

2010-11-11T15:02:00.003-07:00

Today, I plan to cover a number of topics that have been on my mind lately. In the interest of full disclosure, I must warn you that I'm overly tired today, and increasingly moody. So this will definitely not be an unbiased rant. But unbiased rants are no fun anyway.

We'll let my disclosure statement lead us in to my first rant. The topic? Pregnancy symptoms when you're not pregnant.

I don't get them every month, but frequently, after ovulation, my body starts acting like it's in the beginning stages of pregnancy. I get sleepy, my nose starts picking up on smells that usually evade my detection, I have to pee every half hour, I cry at dumb things, etc. These are not normal things for me. And they tend to start a full week and a half before my period is due, so I know it isn't related to that. So my question is this: What the heck?!?! It's just not right. I mean, it's gotten to the point where the pregnancy symptoms don't get my hopes up anymore, but it still doesn't sit right with me that they're happening at all. It's just not fair. No one should have to deal with all the inconveniences of pregnancy unless they're actually having a baby! AmIright?

Granted, we don't know yet what my particular fertility problem is. It's possible that, on the months when these symptoms occur, I am in fact getting pregnant. But somewhere between the conception and the point where my period comes due, something isn't happening like it's supposed to and I'm losing the baby. That would mean I've lost about 15 so far. But that's far too agonizing to think about, so I'm not going to. I'm just going to rant.

Let's dwell on something a little less sad for a while. Have you read the Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan? If you haven't, you should - but only if you have a LOT of free time on your hands, because the series is 12 books long so far, and it still isn't complete. Good books, but loooooooong.

There's this character in the books named Elayne, and I hate her. She's got to be the most annoying fictional character ever created, and I include Jar-Jar Binks in that category. She's a princess, and she acts like one - but not in the kind, sweet, lovable Disney way. No, she's a princess with a capital "B." Yes, that IS what I meant to type. She's ungrateful, spoiled, stubborn, and has a serious sense of entitlement. And yet, we're meant to like her! She's not a villain - she's one of the leading ladies! We're supposed to sympathize with her and feel for her. But every time she's in a section of the book, I roll my eyes and find myself thinking sarcastic thoughts.

She's beautiful, of course. She's talented. She's stronger in "the power" (you have to read the books to understand) than almost anyone alive. She's heir to the throne of her country, and she's in love with the hero of the books. In a word, she's perfect. Annoyingly so. That's bad enough.

But on top of that, Elayne is a brat.

A character named Mat saves her life multiple times. Rather than thank him, she sneers at him that she didn't need his help and would have escaped just fine on her own. Then, as he's trying to protect and help her - and even though he's intelligent and heroic (albeit cheeky and frequently sarcastic) - she treats him like a slow-witted serving boy.

Elayne spends a lot of her time rolling her eyes at the people around her and treating them like idiots, although she fails to recognize when she's being one herself. This is especially noticeable when she and Nynaeve are hiding with a traveling circus. She's quick to assume everything is Nynaeve's fault, and that she, herself, is entirely blameless. She also gives Nynaeve a lot of grief about the risque costume that Nynaeve is forced to wear, although Elayne's is far more revealing.

She puts herself in danger without thinking about the cost to the people around her, who often get hurt trying to protect her. As with Mat, she's rarely grateful for this. Rather, she believes that's how things are supposed to be. It's only right for people to die to protect their ruler.

The most annoying thing about Elayne, though, is when she forces the hero of the story, Rand, to sleep with her. She subsequently gets pregnant (of course), and spends literally ALL HER TIME complaining about how hard and uncomfortable pregnancy is. She also uses this time to blame Rand for all of it, because clearly, even though she forced herself on him, it's entirely his fault. Never mind that her gift with the power prevents morning sickness, and she barely gains any weight, and she wants more than anything to have these babies - she still complains non-stop.

"I have to drink milk instead of wine! Eeew!"

"I had to get brand-new beautiful princess dresses made! Waaah!"

"I'm barely showing, but I feel fat anyway because I'm conceited!"

"I keep having mood swings! Stupid Rand! This is all his fault!"

"I can't use my power, so it's like I'm an ordinary person!!! The horror!"

"People keep trying to protect me and my babies! They're treating me like an invalid, not letting me lead my army into battle and mud-wrestle alligators, just because I'm pregnant! It's not fair! Stupid Rand!"

Oh. My. Gosh. If she was a real person, I would punch her in the face.

Granted, none of the above are direct quotes from the books. But if you've read them, you know how accurate they are. And the problem is that the story is told from the perspective of the character you're reading about. So, when we're learning about what's going on with Elayne, we have to be in her head with her. And in her head, she is literally always thinking about her pregnancy and feeling sorry for herself.

The last book, number 11, was great. Elayne wasn't in it once. I wish they could all be like that.

Moving on!

Inflation is getting bad. Over the past few months, I've noticed prices more than doubling on some foods. Most pricing isn't changing quite that dramatically, but it's all climbing. As things stand at the moment, Ben's raises every year are barely improving our financial situation. And currently, the inflation is growing worse than it ever has been, and at an alarming rate.

I'm sure a lot of this has to do with all the money we're borrowing from China, and the trillions of dollars in spending that Congress is shoving down our throats. American money is becoming increasingly worthless. The problem is that people are still being paid the same amounts, so their salaries are essentially shrinking in value.

My particular beef, which I'm trying to get at, is with the government and their treatment of the military.

We didn't choose to have this spending bill shoved on us. We don't want that debt on our shoulders, and the shoulders of our children and grandchildren. But we haven't really been given any choice. The government made that decision for us.

That same government decides every year how much of a raise to give to the military. They do the raises every year to try and keep the salaries consistent with inflation, among other things. But this year, when inflation is worse than it ever has been before and is growing exponentially, they are giving the military the smallest raise they've had since it became an all-volunteer military in 1973.

Granted, it's gone up to 1.9% from the 1.4% Obama proposed back at the beginning of 2010. But still, that's peanuts. It's an incredibly tiny raise. Last year, we got a 3.4% raise. In 2009, it was 3.9%. 2008 was 3.5%. I could go on and on.

Do you see how insignificant this raise is? And with inflation growing, as I said, it's essentially going to be like taking a pay cut.

My question is, of all the places to cut spending, why cut the salaries of those serving in the military? I admit that I am extremely biased in this issue, because my husband is in the military, but even if that weren't the case I would find this atrocious. Why not cut the salaries of those serving in political offices? Maybe then the corruption would go down, because people would be serving because they want to make a difference, rather than just wanting power and wealth. Why not cut down the huge, life-sucking spending bill (which includes money for frisbee golf courses, among other ridiculous things)? Why not get more politicians to drive where they need to go, or fly on commercial airlines, instead of dishing out huge amounts of money to fuel their private jets?

If anyone deserves to be taken care of by their government, it's the military. Especially because it's an all-volunteer force. These men and women weren't drafted. They decided, of their own free will, to fight for their country. They did it because they believe in the freedoms we have, and are willing to die to protect them. They're willing to die to protect us.

People don't join the military to get rich. Nobody in the military makes a lot of money. Most get full tax refunds every year, because they don't make enough money for the government to take taxes out. The government tries to spin this as being a good thing ("Hey! Look! Tax refunds every year! Join the military!") but I think it's a travesty that they're paid so little. They're willing to pay the ultimate price for this country, but their country isn't willing to pay them very much for their service.

It's so sad. People in the military sacrifice so much. It's not just about whether they live or die, though. Even those that live to be 100 make huge sacrifices. There are children who learn to grow up without having Dad (or Mom) around, because he's off fighting. There are spouses who basically become single parents. There are holidays, anniversaries, and birthdays missed. Many of the men are deployed during the births of their children. They miss seeing their baby take his/her first step, or say his/her first word.

They spend their time with a bunch of other military servicemen, living out of tents, watching for attacks, eating cafeteria food, wearing the same thing every day, frequently missing out on baths and indoor plumbing, trying to kill evil men who want nothing more than to kill them first, and often seeing their comrades die right in front of them. They may come home with missing limbs, or other life-changing injuries. Many of them end up with psychological and emotional injuries, too. War is hell, and nobody knows that better than our servicemen and women. But they do it anyway. They fight, so the rest of us don't have to. They are heroes in every sense of the word.

And the government thanks them for this service by paying them next to nothing.

And too many of the people in this country thank them by throwing eggs at military funerals and shouting to the world that these brave soldiers deserved their deaths (There are not a lot of people who do this, granted, but even one is too many, and there are far more than just one).

And the press thanks them by slandering the good work they're doing, and finding reasons to portray them as bloodthirsty monsters.

The least they should get, the very least, is a decent pay raise every year so that they can provide for their families. But this year, they're not even getting that.

It makes me very sad.

After that emotional rant, I'm not sure that I have anything left in me to say.

Except maybe this...

Today is Veteran's Day, but it's not the only day that you can express your thanks to our brave men and women in the military. My hope is that everyone who reads this blog will remember that. If you see someone in uniform in the grocery store, at a restaurant, on the street, at the airport... take the time to thank them. It means so much to them to know that there are people who are grateful for their sacrifices. We can't do a lot about the press, the crazy anti-war protesters, or the government. But we can show our servicemen and women that their sacrifices aren't going unnoticed. Don't save your gratitude for Veteran's Day. Express it at every opportunity you're given.

All the Lucky People

2010-08-17T10:30:00.003-06:00

You know, I'm not the kind of person to go after someone who has wronged me. I try to let things go, rather than seek revenge. I'm especially not the kind of person to sue somebody else. I've only ever seriously considered it once in my life, when I was injured during a theater performance. The contract was for the entire summer, and after I was hurt someone told me that the boss had said he wasn't going to pay me if I wasn't going to be working. Considering that I was hurt DURING a performance because the stage was sub-par, this seemed unfair. We needed the money from my salary, and it hadn't been my fault that I'd gotten hurt, it was the boss's fault for having a crappy stage. Anyway, it all turned out to be a misunderstanding - he still intended to pay me for the shows, just not for my hourly-wage day job in the kitchen. If I wasn't going to be working any of those hours, I wasn't going to be paid for them. This was like "duh" in my mind. I didn't expect to be paid for that, anyway. So it all blew over.

Anyway, that was the only time I thought about trying to sue somebody. But there seem to be several people I'm encountering this summer who are very lucky that I'm not the suing type.

Almost two weeks ago, on August 4th (my mom's birthday), we were rear-ended by a drunk driver. It was my car, and I was driving. We were stopped at a red light. He misjudged the distance he needed to stop, I suppose, and slammed into us pretty hard - hard enough to completely shatter my back windshield. It was gone. THEN, he hit us AGAIN, on purpose! He pushed us out into the intersection (fortunately, no more cars were coming from the other direction) in order to pull up behind us, turn right down the street, and make his escape. Some nice girls chased him until the police caught up.

Now, I get that he was drunk. His judgment was impaired. The biggest issue was that he decided to drive drunk in the first place. From that point on, every decision was a poor one. The worst decision (after deciding he was sober enough to drive) was when he hit us the second time, on purpose. That's assault. In fact, since he was in a car, it was assault with a deadly weapon. There were several witnesses to the fact that he hit us intentionally the second time. It would be so easy to sue the pants off the guy.

But we're not going to do that. My mom and I are (more or less) unharmed, the car was repaired in record time (to the tune of $6,500), and insurance is paying for everything. The guy who hit us, on the other hand, was arrested for DUI, leaving the scene of an accident, driving without current registration and insurance, and could easily be prosecuted for assault, as well. There's a good chance he'll spend some time in prison (aside from the time he spent there immediately following the accident). He may lose his job as a result, and in this economy, that can be devastating. His family will struggle. And as I said, I realize that his judgment was impaired. Hopefully this whole thing encourages him to be more careful in the future, and not drink and drive. If I hadn't been stopped in front of him at the intersection, he most likely would have shot straight through the red light. There's a good chance that he would have hit someone coming the other direction, and he or someone else may have been killed. If he's smart, he'll learn from this whole thing and count his blessings that things turned out as well as they did.

If he's not smart, he'll just keep up the drinking and driving until he kills himself or someone else. If he's incredibly stupid, he may even try to sue ME. It happens, crazy people exist. And, in that case, I'll be more than happy to counter-sue. It would be an easy win, especially with the multitude of witnesses. But I sincerely hope that he's intelligent enough to learn his lesson without all that.

The other people who are lucky that I was raised not to be the suing type are the people from the Riot Zone in Rigby, Idaho. Last night, Mom, Joseph, Evie and I went there to do some bumper-boating and go-carting. We went in the go-carts first. While we were waiting to start the race, the guy in charge went over the rules with us. "No bumping into each other" he said. "Stay completely clear of one another. And be especially careful of the cars with passengers, because those kids are small and could get hurt easily. Don't even come close to them." We listened to his advice, and ran a safe race. Then, we went over to the bumper boats for a little while. After that, we decided to do one more go-cart race.

We got there just behind a group of about 6 or 7 teenage girls. It looked like there was a mom with them, too. There was a different guy in charge, but he gave more or less the same rules before we took off, emphasizing again that no bumping was allowed. "If you bump into people, you'll be warned, and if you do it again, you'll be removed from the park."

I was the only one with a passenger this time, so Evie and I were at the back of the pack, right behind Joseph. He's a little slow because he can't totally see over the wheel, but he was going fast enough for it to be fun. The teenage girls, however, were driving pedal to the metal. I figured they would have to slow down behind Joseph like I did. That wasn't good enough for them, however.

Instead of slowing down, they started slamming into me from behind. Repeatedly. I had to slam on my brakes to let them by, to avoid getting smashed into a wall. Then, they went after Joseph. They DID slam him into a wall. I pulled into the pit early, and complained to the attendant. "They were smashing into us repeatedly," I told him. "I have a three-year-old with me. I didn't feel like we were safe."

After everyone else finished the race, we saw that Joseph was crying. His back had been injured from the girls smashing him into the wall. Mom pointed out to the attendant, as I had, that the girls were responsible. "I saw a little of it," he responded, then proceeded to tell the girls to line up at the gate so they could go again.

WHAT???

He didn't give them a warning, or even a glance. He certainly didn't try to forbid them from riding again, or kick them out of the park. He just ignored my mother and me, and let the girls go back to their insane, selfish enjoyment.

Mom and I were furious. As we passed the girls at the gate, Mom said, "Well, I hope you girls are proud of yourselves." I added, "Slamming into a car with a three-year-old? Good job, guys."

They had the decency to look ashamed. Slightly. Then they ran, giggling and screaming, back out to the cars to go again.

We went to the ticket booth to talk to the manager. We were told, "Oh, the manager is over running the go-cart area."

What the WHAT???

So the guy who ignored our complaints and Joseph's tears was the manager???

What is the point of having rules if you don't have the stones to enforce them? And isn't that, most especially, the manager's job???

Joseph was hurt, my three-year-old was endangered, and the manager himself showed a blatant disregard for the rules.

They are so lucky we're not the suing type.

We are, however, going to get in contact with the owner. Hopefully he/she has a little more love for the rules that they, themselves, set. I don't want the manager to get fired. I can understand where a situation like that can be intimidating, especially when dealing with a large group of girls who paid a large amount of money to ride. I do, however, want him to be encouraged to do his freaking job.

As it is, we certainly won't be giving them any more of our patronage. And we have no qualms about telling people what happened. If their business suffers a little bit because of it, that's fine with me. Maybe once they start enforcing their own rules, like they're supposed to, it will be a fun, safe place to go again.

ARGH! It's all so annoying!!!

Anyway, these kinds of things tend to come in threes. I wonder what's going to happen next? Hopefully nothing big enough for the possibility of suing to even be an issue. With any luck, it'll be something really mild, like stubbing my toe on a poorly-placed piece of building equipment while we're volunteers on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. Those guys (and what they do for people) are so fantastic, that would be very easy to forget about and forgive. ;) And if it meant I got to be a volunteer, it's a trade I would take any day!

Here's to a brighter future! Fingers crossed!

Making the Case for Adoption

2010-06-28T12:07:00.004-06:00

Ben and I are seriously considering starting the adoption process. We don't have a ton of money, but I think it's worth it to use what we have to adopt a baby. If we save all the extra money we have, and we're careful with our budget, I see no reason why we can't adopt, live comfortably within our means, and still work toward paying off our remaining debt at the same time. Going through LDS Family Services, we should definitely be able to afford it. We haven't decided 100% that we're definitely going to go for it, but I'm pretty sure that we are.

What I want to talk about today is the adoption option. Did you like how that rhymed? ;)

More specifically, I want to talk to all the unmarried girls dealing with unplanned pregnancies.

Adoption vs. Abortion

Statistics show that adoptions are down, and infertility is up. Despite the fact that there are more and more couples who desperately want to adopt kids, more and more mothers are choosing not to give their babies up for adoption. Instead, many of them are taking the "easy" way out, and getting abortions instead.

Now, I'm not a supporter of abortion, except in the case of rape, incest, or severe risk to the mother's health. I think getting an abortion is selfish. But I can understand why so many women choose to do that, rather than give their baby up for adoption.

When you choose adoption, that means you have to carry the baby to full term first. That's nine long months of nausea, swollen ankles, mood swings, cravings, and weight gain. That's nine months where people look at you funny, and judge you. That's nine months of having to deal with the real-life consequences of one careless night. That sucks. I get it.

Having an abortion is so much easier. You go in, you get it taken care of, and you move on with your life. No one even has to know that you were ever pregnant. It's so easy!

But the easiest way is not always the best way. It may be better for your own personal comfort. It may be better for your body (although that's not necessarily the case). It may be better for your social life. But those are all selfish priorities. Those are all reasons that are about you. There's no consideration for the baby at all. Generally speaking, being born is a lot better for a baby than being killed is.

I'm not saying that abortion is equal to murder. I'm not that extreme in my views. I have no idea when a fetus becomes an actual person, with a life and a spirit. I can't judge that.

But why, when there are so many loving couples who would be thrilled to take care of that baby, would you decide to scrape it out and throw it in the trash instead? I get it, it's easier. But you can't deny that it's selfish.

I think your conscience will rest much easier if you give that baby to someone who can love and nurture it. You have the ability to give a couple the greatest joy of their lives, if you choose to give your baby up for adoption. Choosing adoption is a completely unselfish choice. It's harder, physically and maybe even emotionally. You will feel that child grow under your heart for nine months. You'll feel the kicks, and the hiccups. You'll see the ultrasounds, and hear the heartbeat. You'll do all of that, knowing that the child won't be yours to keep. You'll be giving it away. That can be heartbreaking, even when you know it's the right thing to do. It's hard. But it's unselfish. It's about love.

By giving that child away, you're showing that you love your baby enough to want it to have a good home, with good parents who can give your baby everything. You're showing love for those poor, desperate parents, who want nothing more in the whole world than a child of their own. You're showing a love and respect for life itself, in choosing to let nature take its course, rather than getting an abortion.

I promise you, that you'll feel peace and joy in your decision. You'll feel much lighter, much happier, and much less guilty if you give birth and let someone adopt your baby. I can't imagine that anyone feels light, peace, and joy after an abortion. For your own peace of mind, if nothing else, adoption is a better option.

It's not easy. But it's worth it.

Granted, I want to adopt a baby, so I'm obviously biased in my opinion. But none of what I've said here is new. I've always felt this way, long before we decided to try and adopt. It seems logical. And it feels true. Please don't disregard what I've said, just because I want to adopt a baby myself. Think about it. What does your heart tell you?

There are so many couples like Ben and me out there, couples who want to adopt children. Couples who can provide for your child, protect your child, and love your child. We're good people. We're good families. I already have one daughter, and I can say with no doubt in my mind that she will be a phenominal big sister. She wants a little brother or sister so badly, she asks for one almost every day. Any child we adopt will be adored. We will love that child every bit as much as we love our own natural child. And we will thank God every day for the unselfish mother who put that child in our arms.

If you know someone who is thinking about giving their baby up for adoption, please refer them to us. We're pursuing all possible options. It's so important to us to have another child. Our family is not yet complete. If you, or someone you know, can bless our family with a baby, I hope that you'll think about it. And even if our family is not the right one for your child, adoption is still the better option. There are thousands of couples who can't have children, and desperately want them. You'll find a family that's perfect for your child. And they will praise you, and your decision to give up your baby for adoption, forever.

Choose adoption. It's about love.

Left Behind

2010-06-23T22:19:00.003-06:00

When I got married, it was hard to keep up my relationships with my single friends. It felt awkward. A lot of the things I enjoyed doing as a single girl were no longer as interesting - like hanging out with the cute boys across the hall. As a result, I grew apart from those friends. Once they got married, it was easier to resume those friendships. It's like we were on the same level.

The same thing had happened when I went to college. My friends who were younger than me, and still in high school, got left behind as I moved on to new things and new experiences.

It happened again, to a smaller extent, when I had my first baby. It's easier for moms to relate to other moms.

I think that's why I'm so emotional right now.

I have several good friends who are due with their second children in a matter of days. The whole time they've been pregnant, I've been trying to get pregnant. For some of them, I've been trying to get pregnant with my second child since before they were pregnant with their first children, and now they're having baby number two.

I'm so excited for them. They're good friends, and their babies are going to be gorgeous. But part of me is sad and scared at the same time.

I don't want to be left behind.

I have a kid. I'm a mom. But being a mom with one child is very different from being a mom with multiple children. I've never had to deal with sibling rivalries, or jealousy, or staying up with the baby all night and still taking care of the other kids by day. There's so much that I just can't relate to. I love my friends, but I'm worried that they just won't be able to relate to me anymore.

Our friendships are already weaker than they used to be, just because I don't live near any of them and I probably won't again for a long time, if ever. Long-distance friendships are tough anyway. So I don't think it would take much more to dissolve the friendships completely. I don't want that, though. I love these ladies, and I value their friendship. And that's why this month is so heartbreaking for me.

Subconciously, I think I figured that if I could just get pregnant with my next child before they gave birth to theirs, we would remain on the same page. We would still be part of the same "type." I wouldn't be alienated from them any further.

This month was so promising, too. Everything, as far as I could tell, was perfect. I had a great feeling throughout the month that it was finally time. My BBT was picturesque. I was so sure that I was pregnant, I was starting to imagine how we would tell our friends and family. I was picturing finally meeting my new baby. I was trying really hard not to get my hopes up, but I found myself daydreaming anyway.

Then, of course, it turned out that I wasn't pregnant.

It's too late, now, for me to get pregnant before my friends have their babies. It's a silly thing, I know, but subconsciously it was very important to me. And I'm just now realizing why.

All my friends have outgrown me. Most of them are younger than me, for crying out loud! Many of them didn't even get married until after Evie was born, and now they're on kid #2! I had a huge head start, and now I've fallen completely behind.

The most ironic part is, I'm the only one of my friends (that I know of) that wanted kids immediately after I got married. Ben wanted to start a family right away, too. We didn't use any kind of birth control. We both wanted a big family, and we couldn't wait to start.

Even so, it took 9 months of trying to conceive before we got pregnant with Evie. Now, after 5 years of marriage, she's still the only one we have. And we've been trying for #2 since before Evie's first birthday.

Let's be honest - it's not fair. Good thing we knew that life wasn't fair to begin with, or we'd be feeling really disillusioned by now! Still, wouldn't it be nice if the world actually worked the way we all wish it did?

Part of the struggle I'm having, I think, is not just because my friends are all moving on with their lives, reaching points that I can't seem to get to. Part of it is that they are mostly all younger than me, some by several years. They're young, and many still have a good 15 years of childbearing potential ahead of them. They also have the fertility to back it up if they choose to.

I'm turning 28 next week. I hate it. I hate being so much older than my friends. I'm even a year older than my husband. And all I can think about is, that I only have about 10 years left where I'll even be able to get pregnant. And with the amount of time and difficulty this is taking, it's a very real possibility that we'll never get that big family we dreamed of from day one. My time already feels like it's starting to run out.

There are just so many things pressing down on me right now, to make this month's disappointment greater than usual. I'm happy to say, however, that I don't have any bitter or harsh feelings towards any of my friends. A year ago, that would not have been true. I would have been angry and resentful at their good fortune and my lack thereof. That's the one blessing I've gotten from this difficult trial. I've learned to let go of my anger and envy, and just love my friends. I'm genuinely happy for them. Considering all the pain and frustration I felt in the past, that's a minor miracle in itself.

My sadness comes, as I said, from feeling like I'm being left behind; that I'm getting old; that I'm a failure compared to my friends. I even feel like I'm a disappointment to my sweet husband, who wanted a big family as much as I did. He doesn't feel that way, he's still crazy enough to think he's lucky to have me. But I feel like I'm less than he deserves.

Anyway, that's why this month is a tough one. I still have hope that we'll have more kids. I believe in my heart that we will. It's just a matter of time, and I'm learning patience.

I just hope, in the meantime, my friends don't forget me completely.

Let's Pep Things Up!

2010-05-24T09:05:00.005-06:00

Okay, that last blog was depressing. I apologize. It was really just one of those days. There's probably a grain of truth to it all, but I really shouldn't have made things sound so dire. There's no nobler calling in the world than being a mother and a wife. Especially being a mother. Just think what a better place the world would be if every child was raised in a loving, supportive home and taught hard work and respect? The world would be well on its way to harmony and peace, I'll tell you that right now. We could solve all the world's problems if that were the case. Saying otherwise, even just when venting my feelings on a blog, is doing motherhood a huge disservice. So, I apologize.

I also need to apologize to my husband. I didn't realize, when writing that blog entry, that he would be portrayed as indifferent, lazy, or entitled. He's not any of those things. All I meant when I said that he could relax and I couldn't was that Evie lets him relax! lol! Seriously, he tries hard to keep her out of my hair when I'm taking a break, but it's difficult. I'm so tuned in to her that my ears have super-hearing when it comes to Evie. I can hear her whining, crying, yelling, etc. even when she's in a different part of the house - and I can hear what she's fussing about. Frequently, it's because she wants me. I'll let Ben handle it a lot of the time, but if she's getting to the point where she's having a meltdown I feel obligated to get up and take care of things. Ben can handle it, but I feel like it's part of my job as the mom to do what I can for my child, even if that means I don't get a lot of down time. Ben does a lot of the chores, too, to make things easier for me, and he even takes Evie out of the house to play sometimes so I can really take a break. He's a gem, that man. Yes, he takes time for himself to read books or play on the computer, but he deserves it. And if I need his help with anything, he puts down whatever he's doing and helps me, no questions asked. I have one of the best husbands in the world, and in my moody, self-absorbed state during the composition of my last blog, I truly didn't see how he would be portrayed by my words. So, Ben, I'm sorry. You're incredible, and I shouldn't have ever made it seem otherwise, even unintentionally.

So! There you have it. Yes, I was having a bad day, but no, most of what I wrote isn't the way things really are. It's an exaggeration. Yes, I wish I had friends to go out with. Yes, I wish I had some sort of hobby that took me out of the house every once in a while. Yes, I sometimes feel like Evie doesn't really need me much anymore, and that my family would be fine without me. Not better off - never that, I know my own worth better than that - but that they would be fine. When I'm in my right frame of mind, though, I see that I'm vitally important to my family's well-being. Ben may be the head of the family, but I'm the heart. All the things I was feeling and expressing had some validity, but not to the extreme that I portrayed. My life is a beautiful one, and I can honestly say that I wouldn't trade it for anything. I might change some things here and there (A lead in a musical in my free time? Yes, please!), but I would never want to give up my position as wife and mother. I love it, and I love my family.

So, there you have it.

And now, for your entertainment (and to further pep things up): Evie and Cassie in a funny hat!

What's My Motivation?

2010-05-21T18:25:00.003-06:00

Do you ever feel unnecessary? I get that feeling sometimes. I'm in one of those moods right at this moment, actually, which is why I'm writing about it.

Being a mom is kind of a thankless job sometimes. Yes, it's all worth it, and it's the most important, rewarding job in the world, but it's thankless all the same. The world looks down on stay-at-home moms, painting them as lazy and unmotivated. Get a job, you bums! Few realize (or, at least, few give credit) that being a mom is a 24-hour, 7-day-a-week job. And it's not just fixing snacks and kissing owies. There's paying bills, doing laundry, combing the hair of wiggling children, convincing your kid not to wear their pajamas out in public, teaching manners, giving pep talks, making dinner, knowing where everything is at all times, giving haircuts, and basically juggling the details of multiple people's lives, all at once.

It's a full-time job, with crazy hours and no pay. When my husband finishes work for the day, or for the week, he gets time off to relax. He can play a computer game, read a book, go to a movie, etc. While he's doing that, I'm still taking care of the kids, the house, and the details. Moms don't get time off to relax. We might get a few minutes here and there, and when we're lucky we get to put everything on other people for Mother's Day, but that's basically it. And even then, if something happens when Mom is relaxing, who do the kids run to? You guessed it. Relaxation time: over.

That's what I mean when I say it's thankless. Moms are just kind of taken for granted, by society as well as by their families.

It's a tough, important job. However, when I really look at the situation, I see that I'm also easily replaceable. A maid and a nanny could do all of my work, and probably do it better than I can. Heck, my husband can do all the same things I do! If something happened to me, my family would be sad, but it wouldn't really shake things up too much. Ben is more than capable of handling things. On the other hand, if something happened to Ben, our entire lives would be turned upside down. I would have to finish school before I could even think about getting a job that pays well enough to take care of my family. I'm planning to finish school anyway, but even then I'll have little work experience. Who would hire me? Ben is not easily replaced. But I am. Ben is more necessary for our family's survival than I am.

It's sad. Taking care of a family and raising kids is an important job. But it doesn't take an important person to do that, I guess.

I think the biggest problem is that I feel like I'm losing myself. I feel like I'm completely involved in being a mom and a wife, with nothing left over for myself. I'm not growing in any way as a person. I don't even have a calling at church to make me feel needed. I don't have anything outside of my family. I want to do theater again, or teach voice lessons, or have interesting places to go and things to see - some kind of hobby, just for me! But we're living in Little Rock for a couple of months, with no time to do theater, no piano in our apartment, and nothing interesting to do. Then we're moving to Abilene, which doesn't seem to have any musical theater productions. I'll have my piano, but who knows if anyone will even want voice lessons? That's more work than hobby, anyway. And the nearest city to Abilene (with interesting sights and activities) is two hours away. So I still won't really have anything for myself. I write in my blog and I write weekly emails, but it's not so much a hobby as an obligation. I do it so I can print it out later, as a journal. No one seems interested in anything I write anyway, so were it not for the journal reasons, I would just stop. Even to my friends and family, the things I have to share are not worth much.

The other problem is that Evie is getting old enough that she doesn't really need me anymore. She appreciates my attention, and I fix her food, but beyond that she's independent. She'll be in school in just a couple of years, and will need me even less. If I had more kids, I would feel more necessary. Babies are so helpless, that you definitely feel needed when you have one. They rely on you for everything. But, of course, I don't seem to be able to have any more babies any time soon. So, what now?

What am I for? It's a terrible feeling, knowing how easily replaced you are, especially when your entire identity is sunk into what you do. If anyone can do what I do, then what makes me special? What sets me apart, and makes me worthwhile?

I wish I had some sort of life apart from my family. I wish I could get involved with a musical, or be given a calling at church that requires some work. I wish more people than just my husband and daughter wanted me for something. I wish there was some niche that I could fill, that no one else could. I wish there was something I could do better than anyone else.

Any ideas?

A Look Back

2010-04-22T08:06:00.043-06:00

I thought that, in honor of my 5-year wedding anniversary, I would post some pictures of my little family over the years. Let's compare and contrast and see how much we've grown! (Literally - darn love handles!)

Year One, 2005-2006:

Here we are, fresh-faced, innocent newlyweds. Look how thin and lovely we are! How unconcerned with the cares of the world! How optimistic about the future!

Here we are a mere 3 months later. As you can see, we're looking a little shell-shocked. Of course, that may be more due to the family reunion we were attending than for any reason to do with our marriage.

We went mini-golfing with my sister and Ben's brother. After attempting to steal me away from Ben, my brother-in-law went on to hit my sister in the head with a golf club. On accident. Twice. Kids, this is why you should never fake-sword-fight with golf clubs!

Here we are with my aforementioned sister and our friends, Heather and PJ. We all went to the fair in Idaho Falls, and for some reason we felt inspired to purchase cowboy hats. We still have them, even though we (Ben and I, at least) have not worn them since.

At this point, in January '06, I'm pretty sure Ben was starting to wonder what he'd gotten himself into. But I got pregnant with Evie that month, so I guess he MUST have still liked me! ;)

Year Two, 2006-2007:

Ben was gone for a good chunk of that summer, when most of our photos were taken, so we'll skip ahead to September - just a few weeks before Evie was born! As you can see, Ben is still thin and lovely (aside from the ironic basketball under his shirt), whereas I am beginning to look like a beached whale.

Halloween, about a month after Evie was born. Let's face it - we have tons of pictures from this time period, but we only seem to be able to catch one parent at a time. So a compare-and-contrast set of pictures from the same evening will have to do. See? Evie likes me better. ;)

This is from right after our visit to Romania for Christmas. Ben discovered that, by marrying me, he gets to see the world whenever we visit my family! As of now, with 5 years of marriage behind us, we have gone exactly... one places. Huh. Not much of a perk after all, I guess. Joke's on you, Ben! ;)

Ben and I practicing our, "Tough Air Force Guy and Even Tougher Air Force Wife" faces.

Ben was a little grumpy and disinclined to be photographed after he broke his collar bone. That may, in part, be because I made his sling into a fun hat! ...Poor Ben.

Year Three, 2007-2008:

At Rock Canyon Park in Provo, enjoying the sun and taking pictures of our cute family! This is the only one we had of the two of us. We took it while Evie busied herself trying to figure out what the funny green stuff growing out of the ground was.

Ben and I were in a show that summer. Here we are, looking lovingly at my brother. Don't ask me why, I really couldn't say. I'm pretty sure it was my brother's idea.

My aunt, Kristi, took pictures of my immediate family (parents, sibs, etc.) by the river in Idaho Falls. While we were doing that, we got some beautiful shots of our little family, too! Aren't we adorable? :) Please note, this is the only time you'll see Ben with long hair for at least another 10 years. Enjoy it while you can.

Our apartment in Provo, February 2008. We were getting ready to go play in the snow. Of course, I'm the one holding the camera, so I'm not pictured. It's all good though, I probably wasn't so cute that day. ;)

We're such an adorable couple! And we both look wicked good in blue. :)

Year Four, 2008-2009:

For our anniversary, we got to go to Disneyland! My brother stayed with Evie while Ben and I vacationed for a week! It was kind of hard, because Evie would have loved Disneyland, but it was awesome to get some alone time. This is pretty much the only picture we have as a couple, but rest assured, we have a LOT of awesome pictures of this trip!

This is us at my aunt Kathi's house. She has a trampoline, and Ben, Evie and I all enjoy jumping on it. :) I like this picture, even though it's not terribly flattering, because our bodies make a kind of sloppy heart shape. It's like our marriage - sometimes we're sloppy, sometimes we're not looking so hot, but through it all we have a firm foundation of LOVE!

At my sister's wedding in August. Evie was a flower girl, I was the "Matron" of Honor (what a terrible word! Ugh!), and Ben was my arm candy. My sister was gorgeous, of course. I just hope she can look back on her first five years of marriage with as much joy as I do!

Pensacola, Florida! We were in Alabama for 6 weeks of training in September and October, so we took some time to visit the beach! Evie loved it, and I absolutely did, too! The sand was cool, the water was warm, and the day was perfect!

Evie's (and my) first live college football game! Go BYU! I don't remember much about it, probably because Evie fell asleep in my arms and everyone around me was standing up so I couldn't see anything... But hey, it was fun getting into the spirit of the whole thing!

Whew! What an eventful year! After this picture, though, we moved away for Air Force pilot training... and all the fun came to a grinding halt. Ben couldn't go on any trips, he was working 12-hour days, and we barely noticed our 4-year anniversary. Still, we love each other more than ever, so I can't really complain. The hard times do more to show what your marriage is made of than the good times do.

We skip ahead to March, where Ben has just completed his first solo flight (and was subsequently thrown into a shady-looking pool of water). I'm not involved in this picture or the events (aside from being the one behind the camera), but I use it as an example of why Ben won't be in many pictures for the next year. He was busy learning to fly!

Year Five, 2009-2010:

Evie and I relieved our boredom with trips to the zoo...

Vacations with family...

And having little photo shoots, where we'd practice our Derek Zoolander faces. :)

That's not to say that Ben didn't spend any time with us. He certainly did his best to make us his first priority. That, in my opinion, makes him a real man. He puts his family before everything else. What a stud! :)

Finally, he graduated! Now we get to see him a little more. Until he starts deploying, of course. ;)

The last five years have been amazing! Look how far our little family has come! We went from being dirt-poor college students living on hopes and dreams, to fully-functional adults contributing to society and raising an angel in human form. Our love has grown exponentially over the years, and I barely remember a time before Ben and I were together. It's been an incredible 5 years. Here's to 5,000,000,000,000,000 more!

I love you, Ben!

Seriously?

2010-04-14T16:06:00.001-06:00

http://popwatch.ew.com/2010/04/14/book-of-mormon-south-park-broadway/

I think I'm going to vomit. And cry. Not necessarily in that order.

Hubba Hubba Hubby

2010-04-13T10:54:00.012-06:00

Have I ever told you how lucky I am?

I was thinking about it today, and I can honestly say that I wouldn't trade my life for anyone else's in the whole existence of the world. Yes, I have my trials and tribulations. Yes, life is hard sometimes. Yes, sometimes I wish some things were different from the way they are. But when you get right down to it, I'm crazy lucky to have my life.

Most especially, I'm crazy lucky to have my husband.

I know what you other married ladies in the reading audience are thinking: "Well, her husband might be good, but he's not as great as my husband!" Well, I'm here to tell you that you're wrong. My husband is better. ;)

Okay, okay, it's a matter of opinion. I realize that. You may very well believe that your husband is the best in the world, and in fact, I hope you do. I hope that each and every one of you thinks your hubby is tops. Because that's the way it should be.

But still, mine's the best.

I can't believe that he married me, of all people! What was he thinking???

Anyway, allow me to illuminate why my husband is the best in the world.

1) He's handsome. Not just stereotypically, movie-star handsome, either. It goes beyond that. He has these blue eyes that you could drown in. And he's got one of those long, straight, proud Roman-esque noses. And his eyebrows have this unique curve to them, so he's got this perpetually interested, sweet, innocent look on his face. I love those eyebrows. I know, that sounds weird, but it's true. He's a little self-conscious about them, I think, because I comment on them a lot (and let's face it, eyebrows are a strange thing to comment on), but I do it because I genuinely love them. They make his whole face more interesting, and more handsome.

2) He has the world's best arms. They're nice and long, lean, and have just the right amount of muscle on them. He wraps his arms around me, and I just melt. I feel so safe when he holds me, like nothing bad can ever touch me again. His arms are strong, but gentle too. Going along with that, he's got these big, strong hands. They're also super gentle. His hands always feel so soft when he touches me. They convey his feelings perfectly, too. When he touches me, I can feel in his touch how much he loves me.

3) He's the perfect height. He's tall enough that I have to look up to see into his eyes, and stand on my tiptoes to kiss him. I like that he towers over me, it makes me feel dainty. :) Plus, when he holds me, my head rests comfortably against his chest, where I can hear his heart beating. It's a soothing sound.

4) He's an Air Force pilot! Is there a cooler profession in the entire world? If so, I haven't heard about it. It's exciting to realize that I'm married to a pilot. There are probably thousands of women in the world (probably more), that wish they could marry a pilot. It's such a cool job! He flies multi-million-dollar machines through the sky, fighting bad guys! Evil-doers, beware! ;)

5) He's a worthy priesthood holder. He's given me lots of blessings over the years we've been married. He's helped me get through difficult times with multiple blessings. When Evie gets seriously sick, he's the first one I turn to, because I know he has the power to help her get better. He has that power because he lives worthy of it. He tries his best every day to keep God's commandments and live like he's supposed to. He's a virtuous, wise, spiritual man who tries to emulate the Savior in every aspect of his life. I know that I can turn to him for counsel when faced with a problem, and he's in tune enough with the Spirit to be able to give me wise advice.

6) He's patient. We rarely fight, because he rarely gets annoyed. Even when I'm being difficult, he takes it all in stride and waits for me to calm down (and feel sheepish about things), so we can talk it out. He's patient with Evie, too. If she throws a fit, he just tells her, "You can cry if it makes you feel better" and waits for her to chill. I've never heard him raise his voice in anger. Because of his patience, I've become a more patient person as well. I haven't gotten to the same amazing level that he's at, and I'm not sure that I ever will, but I've definitely grown. I've noticed that instead of snapping at him when I'm annoyed, I stop and think about the situation first. Usually, I'll recognize what I've done wrong in the situation instead of focusing on what he did to annoy me. I'm able to let go of my anger and frustration. Usually, no conflict will arise at all. It's amazing how he's made me a better person, just by being so patient himself.

7) He's 100% loyal to me. He seriously thinks I'm some sort of goddess. If I have a bad dream about him cheating on me, or divorcing me, he just tells me that I'm crazy because that would never happen. He doesn't even look at underwear ads in magazines or at the mall. He doesn't even notice them. He only sees me. I don't think he even recognizes that women besides me really are women. He just sees them as "people." If we pass an attractive young lady at the store or on the street, he doesn't notice her. At all. She just doesn't register. He's got blinders on as far as other women are concerned, and I love that. I don't feel like I'm all that pretty, but I have absolutely no doubt that he thinks I'm the most gorgeous creature God ever created. Going along with that, he has absolutely no respect for men who do have wandering eyes. There's nothing more disgusting to him than the thought of infidelity. In this world, where adultery is commonplace - even encouraged sometimes! - he's a minor miracle. And I know that he'll have eyes for no one else but me for the rest of eternity. That's the best feeling in the world.

8) He trusts me and supports my decisions. He'll offer advice and suggestions, but when I'm in charge of something in the home, he lets me be in charge. He doesn't look over my shoulder and tell me what I'm doing wrong. He doesn't try to make me do things his way. He sees me as an equal, even as his superior in some ways (although I can't say I fully agree with him in that regard). As his wife, I'm not beneath him. I don't walk behind him. I walk beside him, as an equal partner. He's not a tyrant or a dictator. He respects my opinion, and trusts my judgment.

9) He's smart. This guy can fix a computer, or make it do things I didn't even know were possible. He barely has to study for his pilot training, because he retains information so well. He's got an amazing analytical mind. He studied engineering in college for a while before switching to linguistics. Both of those lines of study are pretty brainy. He wants to learn Arabic and Mandorin, as well as easier languages like Spanish and French. He can solve complex math problems that I can't even read without getting a headache. He's a brain, but he's also humble about it.

10) He loves our family. He treats me like a queen, and our little girl like a bona-fide princess. He's kind, gentle, patient, and loving. He makes time to play games with Evie, even when he's tired or busy. He'll stay up late talking to me, even though he's exhausted, because he knows how much I appreciate that time we have together. He works hard to support our family, but always makes sure to have quality time with us. He even chose a sim schedule at work recently that lets him be home with us all day, even though it means working until 3 in the morning. He wanted to be able to be home for dinner, and to help put Evie to bed, so he picked the more difficult schedule. One of his main reasons for joining the military in the first place was to help keep our family safe. He wanted to ensure our safety, and the safety of our county, by personally fighting to guarantee that safety. He's our hero.

Those are just a few of the millions of reasons I love my husband. He truly is a gift from God. I never imagined that such a man existed, and now I'm married to him! He's mine forever, and I am his.

See? I told you I was lucky. :)

I Think I Understand Now

2010-03-29T08:14:00.003-06:00

Yes, folks, this is going to be about the pregnancy issue. Again. But I'm mostly writing this stuff down for my own benefit, so I can go back and re-read it in the future, and remember what I've felt, understood, and learned. You don't have to read it if you don't want to.

I started off the morning by reading my patriarchial blessing, as well as the blessing Ben gave me last month when he graduated from UPT. Graduation was the beginning of a new chapter of our lives, after all. And it's a chapter wherein he'll be deployed a lot, so a blessing seemed like a good idea.

Anyway, I read both of those, seeking comfort and guidance. After I finished with them, I turned to my favorite passage of scripture, the one that always seems to be speaking to me. It's Doctrine and Covenants section 6, where the Lord is talking to Oliver Cowdry. I relate to those passages in so many ways, it's been kind of my go-to section of scriptures since I was in high school, for times when I'm struggling.

After I finished reading, I sat down and pondered things for a while. This two and a half years of infertility has been hard. I've spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself, and wondering why everyone else around me seemed to be having babies while I couldn't get pregnant. It wasn't a fun time. Gradually, I was learning acceptance and patience, but it was difficult even so.

I realized today, though, that God doesn't just have a specific plan and mission for me. He has a plan for each one of His children. We're not just put on this Earth to have a good time and see how we cope with challenges. Each one of us has a purpose.

Taking that into consideration, I began to realize why I wasn't able to get pregnant. A child's birthdate determines a lot of their experiences in life. If they're born at one time, they'll meet certain people, make certain friends, and have certain experiences. If they're born at a different time, all of those other things will be different as well.

God gives all of us the start we need in order to complete our missions here on Earth. He's not going to send a child down at the wrong time, just because the mother is feeling impatient.

It seems totally selfish of me, now that I think about it. I was focused on me, on how the infertility thing was making me feel, on how I was being affected. I didn't really stop to consider that my children all have specific purposes in life, and that when they're born will be a big part of accomplishing those purposes.

Now that I see it that way, I understand why I haven't been able to get pregnant. It's not time yet. My babies will come when they're supposed to come, and not a minute earlier - no matter how much I may kick and scream and curse. (Not that I've ever literally kicked and screamed and cursed, but you get what I mean.)

It makes the whole situation a lot easier to handle when I look at it that way. God isn't giving kids to my friends because He likes them better. I'm not being punished for anything. God isn't witholding babies from me for any reason. He loves me, and I will be blessed with more children if and when it's right. I don't need to feel sorry for myself, or wonder what's wrong with me. I just need to be patient, and put my life (and the lives of my children) in God's hands.

I'm so grateful for my testimony of God, of Jesus Christ, and of the gospel. The gospel truly does make life so much sweeter, and so much happier. And I'm so grateful for the understanding that God has blessed me with. I just wish I hadn't been so stubborn about the whole situation - maybe I would have seen the answer sooner, and been able to spare myself some grief!

Live and learn, right? :)

Growing!

2010-03-23T14:38:00.003-06:00

Good news, all! I'm growing as a person! Not so much physically, but emotionally.

As I'm sure you've all noticed, I've had a hard time being surrounded by pregnant friends since we started trying for baby #2, two and a half years ago. Sometimes it feels like everyone I know is pregnant - even though that's not actually the case. Still, it didn't help spending the last year in a young ward where there was definitely a higher-than-average pregnancy rate. Also, since most of my Facebook friends are around my same age, there are a lot of pregnancy/baby announcements and updates online. A lot.

It's been hard for me. That's no secret. There's not much worse than looking around and feeling like some kind of freak. I wonder sometimes what's so wrong with me, that I'm not Super-Fertility Woman (heck, I'm not even Regular-Fertility Woman). There are excited announcements popping up on almost a daily basis, but none from me. Even the people I know who have struggled getting pregnant have been successful in the time since we started trying again. It kind of sucks.

And sometimes people unintentionally say things that hurt, which makes it harder. A lot of people just don't understand what it's like, struggling with getting pregnant. I have a few friends who practically get pregnant just from their husbands smiling at them the right way. They're so fertile, they really can't empathize with me. They've never been in a situation anything like mine. That makes it hard for them to know what to say, and unfortunately they spend more time saying the wrong thing than being helpful, even when helpful is what they're going for. I try not to get too upset about it, because I know they mean well. But it still sometimes feels like a slap in the face, and it's worse when it comes from someone who's super-fertile and just doesn't understand.

Anyway, the lack of understanding coupled with the excess of pregnancies around me has made me very grumpy. I tell myself over and over again that I'm happy for my pregnant friends - and I am! I hope they all have perfect pregnancies and completely healthy babies. But I can't help feeling a little resentful, even as I recognize that the problem is not with them. It's with me.

It doesn't help that my friends are all so much prettier than I am, too. It's like adding insult to injury!

ANYWAY! The good news is, I'm growing. I've been praying so hard to let go of my envy and resentment. I hate feeling that way, and I know that I'm subconsciously driving a wedge between myself and my preggo friends. I don't want to do that! I really, really, really don't want to do that! I love my friends, and my own personal problems are not their fault.

I didn't think I was having much success letting go, however. As much as I tried not to feel jealous and mean-spirited, I couldn't help thinking angry thoughts sometimes. But I kept trying, and finally it seems to be paying off.

A friend of mine announced her pregnancy on Facebook today, and the only thing I felt was 100% happy for her and her husband. This is their first baby, and I love these friends, and I'm so happy for them. Even now, after it's had a chance to sink in, I feel completely happy for them. There's no bad feeling in me at all.

I'm not sure why things suddenly changed for me. Maybe it's because this is their first baby. Maybe it's because this particular friend has never said anything rude or thoughtless to me regarding my own situation, intentional or otherwise. Maybe it's because my body seems to finally be doing what it's supposed to do every month (this is my third month of charting my temperature, and the first that has actually looked like it's supposed to - which of course gives me hope that I'll get pregnant soon myself).

Maybe I'm actually growing up.

I certainly hope I am. I've been trying really hard for a long time now to reach this point. It's a much better feeling, being happy for people, than feeling resentful and self-pitying.

Let's hope it sticks.

Random Thoughts

2010-03-18T10:59:00.002-06:00

I haven't written a blog entry in almost two months, so I figured that was reason enough to try and pound something out. I don't really know what to say, but that just means we'll all be surprised to find out where this leads!

I always get good ideas for blogs at night, when I'm falling asleep. Then, the next day, I can't for the life of me remember just what those good ideas were. It's more than a little frustrating.

Speaking of nighttime, and sleep, I dreamed last night that we hadn't moved to Little Rock yet, and that Ben was loading up two huge moving trucks with our stuff. He couldn't fit all of our stuff in, however, probably because he was just chucking everything in without trying to make it fit nicely, so it was this huge tangle of furniture and boxes. It was frustrating. And, in my dream, when I tried to get him to do it a different way he was like, "Who the heck are you? I'll do this however I want, you weirdo." So apparently we weren't married, either. I tried to remedy that by flirting with him and wearing cute, albeit moderately revealing clothes, but he wasn't interested. What do you suppose that means?

I really wanted to get Evie back into dance classes when we moved out here, but apparently they only take new students at the beginning of the semester or whatever. The schools in the area have already paid recital and costume fees for their recitals in June, so there's no way we could get a costume for Evie in time. That's probably the biggest reason for it. So we'll have to wait until we move to Abilene in October and hope it's not too late to enroll her then. I know she misses dancing, and I know she's bored with no one but me to play with, but I'm not really sure what to do about it at this point. Poor thing.

I watched The Incredibles with Evie last night. It was the first time I'd seen it in a long time. I'd forgotten what a fantastic movie it is. That part where they're on the plane, and the missiles are coming at them, and the mom is yelling, "Abort! Abort! There are children on board!" still gives me chills and makes me cry. As a mom, I can only imagine how terrifying a situation like that would be. Yeah, I'm a boob, I know. I cried a couple of weeks back watching My Friends Tigger and Pooh with Evie, too. I was listening to Kanga's voice and I thought, "That's how a mom should sound. Her voice is melodic, soothing, and totally maternal. I sound like a 12-year-old when I talk." That's when I found my eyes tearing up. That's when I realized that I was probably a little hormonal. Or crazy.

A lady at church gave a talk on Sunday (weird, I know!) and she said something that has really stuck with me - you know, over the past 4 days. Anyway, what she said was, "Blessings don't always come at convenient times." I'd never really thought about that. When you think about blessings, you think about things that make you happy, improve your life, etc. You think about things that you were excited to find out about. You don't generally think about things that made you go, "Oh. Okay." But it's really true! So many times stuff happens to us that we just don't want at the moment. Maybe it's an unplanned pregnancy, or finding a dog on the side of the road that needs a home, or getting a calling at church that you didn't really want. Those kinds of things are often inconvenient, and stressful. But most of the time, they turn out to be huge blessings as well.

I've been thinking lately about how it would kind of stink to get pregnant anytime in the next few months. That's not to say that I wouldn't be thrilled, it just would be more convenient if it happened at a different time. Ben, Evie and I want to go see our families for Christmas this year. We have a whole big vacation planned. Ben hasn't been allowed any leave time pretty much since he commissioned in the Air Force two years ago, so he's got a lot stored up. We want to use it to try and go to Idaho and see our families from Thanksgiving-New Year's. We're really looking forward to it! The thing is, if I get pregnant in the next few months, I'll be right at the end of my pregnancy at that time and wouldn't be able to go. That's not to say that it wouldn't be more than a fair trade, it absolutely would, it would just be kind of inconvenient.

But blessings don't always come at convenient times! As I think about it more, Evie's already going to be more than 4 years older than the next kid. Do I really want to increase that age gap? Heck no! The sooner we get pregnant, the better, as far as I'm concerned! I'm not even going to use the word "inconvenient" anymore, in relation to getting pregnant. If it happens, it will be a huge blessing, and will be 100% welcome and convenient. Yeah, it will be sad not to see our families, but it will be a fantastic reason for missing Christmas with them.

On the other hand, with my luck I still won't get pregnant and they'll deploy Ben so he can't have Christmas with us anyway. That's not really a blessing in my mind, so I can call it "inconvenient" all I want. On the other hand, Ben's being deployed would be a huge blessing to the people he'd be helping.

I'd still rather have him with me for Christmas.

It's kind of sad that I have very few super-close friends that aren't related or married to me. I know it comes with growing up in the military, but I think a big part of it is just me, as well. I was in Utah for 7 - 8 years, which is a good amount of time, but I still don't have any friends that I talk to more than once or twice a month. We send emails occasionally, but that's about it. It's kind of sad. We moved here to Little Rock two weeks ago, almost, and I haven't heard from any of my Oklahoma friends. It's lonely, starting over in a new place, and I don't feel like there are many people I can call. I'm sure if I did call, most of my friends would be completely thrilled to hear from me, but I think I worry about being an inconvenience (there's that word again!) to them. I worry that, now that I'm far away, they would feel like they were wasting their time, talking to me. It's an irrational worry, I know, but years and years of not hearing from long-distance friends has led me to subconsciously believe that once I'm gone, they don't really care much about me anymore. I am lucky, however, that I have a wonderful family - and wonderful in-laws! - that I can call if I really need to talk. I don't get to talk to them as much as I'd like to, either, but at least I don't worry that I'm imposing when I call them. Anyway, I wonder how much of all this insecurity is due to the way I grew up, and how much is just my nature?

The newest Fablehaven book is coming out next week, as is New Moon (which I still haven't seen), and The Princess and the Frog came out this week! March is a good month for entertainment, I guess. :) Also, apparently it's a good month for giving birth. I think literally half the people I know have March birthdays. What's up with that?

My thoughts seems to have finally run dry, and Evie's been in here 5 times to ask me for lunch (it's only 12:30 for crying out loud!), so I guess I'd better end there.

The End.

I'm the Booger

2010-01-30T05:30:00.002-07:00

As Colin Mochrie so eloquently stated once, "You've got a booger!" Mom, you have got a booger, and that booger is me.

Evie woke up at 5:00 this morning, coughing and wheezing and whimpering. After giving her a drink and some medicine, I went back to bed. I couldn't sleep, though. I found my mind drifting to years past, and recalling memories that had all but disappeared from my mind.

I'm a lot like my mom. I love surprises, but I'm rarely surprised. Somehow, I always find out about things before I'm supposed to.

When I turned 18, my family decided to throw me a surprise party. I was heading off to college in a month or two, and I'm sure they wanted to have a fun celebration with me while they still could. Or something.

At the time, I was dating a few guys, I had a job, and I was keeping pretty busy. I happened to be home, however, when my friend Amber's mom called to RSVP for my party. In fact, I'm the one who answered the phone. I had no idea what she was talking about, of course, but I figured it out pretty quickly. I didn't want to ruin it for my family, though, so I pretended that I didn't know about the party.

The trouble was, one of the guys I was dating kept asking me if he could take me out on a date for my birthday. I kept telling him "no." I didn't want to screw things up for my family! Finally I just told him about the surprise party, so he would know why I couldn't go out with him. That's when he admitted to me that it was his job to get me out of the house and to the party.

Oops.

One thing led to another, and, while I got to the party just like planned, everyone found out that I hadn't been surprised. I felt bad about it... But that wasn't the last time I ruined a surprise party for myself.

A few years later, I was home from college for the summer. I was working at a hair salon as a receptionist. When I came home from work on my birthday, I noticed extra cars parked around the house and people moving around inside. I was tired, cranky, and all my closest friends were still at college so I didn't anticipate that there would be all that many people I'd really want to see at my party.

So, what did I do?

I snuck around the back of the house, unlocked the utility room door by sticking my arm through the dog door, and hid downstairs in the family room. I didn't let anyone know I was home, I just sat there and listened to the people chatting upstairs. I felt a little guilty, but I found the entire thing highly funny as well.

Eventually my family spotted my car outside. Lyssa came downstairs and told me to stop being a jerk and go upstairs. Then she told me that someone had come out from Utah to surprise me.

That stopped me short. Who on earth could it be? I ran upstairs and found my ex-boyfriend (who was also one of my close friends) in the kitchen, doing the dishes. I was so excited! And I felt like a complete moron for ruining the surprise. Again.

To this day, I still complain about not getting surprise parties. There's nothing more exciting than finding out that people went through a lot of trouble to celebrate how much they love you.

Honestly, though, I shouldn't complain. It's no one's fault but my own.

I'm such a booger.

Work It On Out

2010-01-26T17:18:00.003-07:00

So I've been working out regularly for a month now, and it's amazing how fast my body is changing! Not appearance-wise; in that regard, it's amazing how fast it's not changing. I've only lost 2 lbs. But stamina-wise, I'm on fire.

I've been logging my activities every day at presidentschallenge.com, and looking back over the past month, I'm definitely doing a lot more now than I was then.

Four weeks ago, I was working out 45-60 minutes a day.

Now, it's weird if I don't work out at least 90 minutes a day.

Four weeks ago, my goal every day was to burn at least 250 calories per workout.

Now, I'm upset with myself if I don't hit at least 600.

Four weeks ago, I was basically speed-walking on the treadmill, biking at a level 1, and... that was it.

Now, I spend at least half of my time on the treadmill running, I bike at a level 6 or 7, and I also do 15-20 minutes going as hard as I can on the eliptical machine.

Four weeks ago, my legs (especially my shins) hurt so bad after a workout that I could barely walk the next day.

Now, my shins ache a little but it's not holding me back or slowing me down in any way. They pretty much only ache when I try to sit on them while kneeling.

I have enough energy to chase Evie, take her to the playground, dance with her in the kitchen, and play games with her that normally would exhaust me.

I sleep better at night, and get more accomplished during the day.

I've made lots of friends at the gym that I get to socialize with every day.

I haven't been even a little bit sick since I started working out. (Coincidence? Okay, maybe)

Most importantly, I feel fantastic. It's a great sense of accomplishment, to look back over your workout and realize that you've run a mile and a half, walked another mile, gone 7 miles on a bike and done almost two miles on an eliptical - and burned 700 calories.

Yeah, it's kind of annoying that my body isn't looking as good as it feels, but as my endurance increases and I burn more and more calories, the weight is going to have to come off, right? I just hope I can lose those 6 lbs. or so I'm trying to get rid of before Ben's pilot graduation. It's in three and a half weeks!

Wish me luck!

Clarification

2010-01-07T10:27:00.003-07:00

Just for the record, I do NOT hate pregnant women, and I especially don't hate my friends who are pregnant. I know there are some of you who read this blog and are pregnant, and I don't want you to think that I'm mad at you or anything! I'm really not, I swear. It's more the fact that everyone around me seems to be getting pregnant while I've been struggling for more than 2 years now. It's not a personal thing at ALL. The people I block on Facebook are the ones who I don't know very well, and who can't help but talk about their pregnancies CONSTANTLY. I would never block any of you who I consider close friends. I love you way too much for that. I know your struggles, I know what you've gone through in the past, and I'm nothing but 100% happy for you. So please don't think you shouldn't talk to me, don't think that I hate you, and please don't avoid me or anything like that. I'm truly, sincerely, completely happy for you guys. Don't let my problems put a damper on your happiness! I love you guys more than I hate being infertile, if that makes sense. Please don't take anything in my last post as a personal attack, I never, NEVER meant that.

And hey - I AM feeling better today! (See the picture? I'm fine!) I knew I would be. The last couple of days were just like the perfect storm. My period was starting, so once again I knew I wasn't pregnant, which was depressing. On top of that, the crazy hormones made me way more emotional than usual. On top of THAT, I had a couple more random people on Facebook announce pregnancies. It just kind of grew and grew until I exploded. You should have seen me bawling all over Ben's shirt last night! Pathetic. Poor guy, he has to deal with this about once every 4 weeks - although, it's not usually this bad. It just seems like everything came together at exactly the same time this week, to make me really, really, depressed. I'm back to normal today, though! And I'm sorry if I hurt anyone's feelings with what I said yesterday, I never intended that. I was just venting.

I hope that clears things up.

???

2010-01-06T16:58:00.002-07:00

I'm not entirely sure what this blog is going to be about. All I know is, I feel like I should be writing. Maybe I'm keeping too many things bottled up. Maybe I haven't been talking to enough adults recently, and feel the need to really SAY something. Maybe I'm just bored. Who can tell, really?

My big thing recently is, once again, the pregnancy issue. After everything that went down last year, with the blessing and imaginary pregnancy and all, I figured I'd be pregnant for real pretty quickly. But once again, I'm not pregnant. If I were to get pregnant this month, Evie and the next baby would be almost exactly 4 years apart. That's too much! It's too much! And chances are, it will be another year before I actually get pregnant (if I even get pregnant then), and the age gap will be even bigger. I'm really unhappy about it.

Maybe I should just forget about having more kids, and be content with one. Lots of people just have one kid, right? Granted, I don't like the idea of moving all over the place with just one kid. I grew up moving a lot, and had to depend on my siblings most of the time for friendship. It's hard to make and keep friends when you're moving every couple of years. Evie is likely to be a really lonely kid if she's an only child. But Ben's career is already in motion, we can't do anything about the moving around at this point.

We could adopt. I've always wanted to adopt. But we can't afford it, and it's likely to be years before we can. By then, Evie will be even older. It will be hard for her to develop a friendship with a sibling who's 6 or 7 years younger than her. And I know people are joking when they talk about how they gave birth to the "babysitter" first, then had their "family" (when there's a big gap in the ages of the oldest child and the next), but I hate that kind of joke. Evie is my child, and I want her to have siblings, friends, peers, not responsibilities. Yes, she'll have responsibilities, but that's not the main thing that she would be getting with younger brothers and sisters. Siblings are a blessing. They have the same parents you do, the same genes, similar experiences, the same family traditions, etc. There's a bond there that you can't get anywhere else. I want Evie to have that!!! If the age gap is too big, that bond might be harder to grasp and appreciate. Maybe I'm crazy, but that's the way I see things.

I'm so sick of everyone I know on Facebook talking about their pregnancies constantly, posting pictures of baby clothes, car seats, and ultrasounds. Yes, I get it, you're happy. That's great. But I don't like to have constant reminders that everyone else I know is fertile and I'm not. It's gotten to the point where, every time someone announces their pregnancy, I block them from my news feed. Not everyone, my good friends don't get blocked, but half the people I'm "friends" with on Facebook are nothing more than acquaintances. It's a lot easier to be jealous of their good fortune and be angry with them, because I don't really care about them, personally, all that much. Don't get me wrong! I don't wish them any ill will. I hope they have safe pregnancies and healthy babies. I just don't want to hear about it. The people I really love though, my close friends, I'm genuinely happy for. Sometimes I'm jealous, but I'm mostly happy. But the sheer number of pregnant women surrounding me at home, in church, and online is ridiculous! I feel like I have to take it out on somebody, so I take it out on my pregnant Facebook acquaintances. They don't know about it, they have no idea that I'm blocking them. I've never come out and told any of them "you suck," even when that's the first response in my mind. I'd never trample on their happiness that way. Maybe I'm a hypocrite, secretly being angry at the pregnant women's good fortune while pretending to be happy for them, but I can't help it. Honestly, I don't hate them. The anger is more at my own situation than at them, and it only lasts for a few minutes. I get over it quickly. But it definitely depresses me to see baby talk all over Facebook, so I block them. Does that make me a bad person? Maybe. But they'd definitely think I was a bad person if I didn't block them, because eventually I would snap and say something I'd regret. Like my friends who had hard pregnancies this past year, and complained about it constantly. I wanted to smack them in the face. I would have done just about anything to trade places with them. They had no idea how lucky they were to be having those babies. They just complained about how uncomfortable it was. If I hadn't blocked them, I probably would have chewed them out competely.

I know! I know! I'm an awful person. It just hurts. It sucks. I love my daughter, but I'm aching for more children. All I've ever wanted in my life is to be a wife and a mom. I want to be surrounded by children when I'm old. I want to have years of Christmases with a flock of my own kids around me. I want to be constantly planning for birthdays, buying new shoes, and taking kids to after-school activities. My family is not complete yet. I know it's not. But for some reason, I can't seem to have any more children. It's been two and a half years since we started trying again. I know, some people try a lot longer than that. I shouldn't be losing hope yet. But it feels like it's been forever. And every month that passes is another month older that Evie gets, another month in the age difference between her and (fingers crossed) the next one. Will my kids be able to be friends?

I know, I'm a drama queen. Whatever. All the rest of my friends have oldest children that are younger than mine, and are already on #2 or 3. Evie's one of the oldest of her friends. And she's the only one even close to her age who doesn't have a sibling on the way. She prays every night to be a big sister soon. She keeps asking me when the baby is coming. It's killing me. It's breaking my heart. And there's nothing I can do to change it.

I'm done complaining now. Honestly, most of the time I'm fine. I don't stress out about it that much. I know stressing out about it just makes it that much harder to get pregnant, anyway. I'm exercising regularly, trying to slim down - living under the assumption that I'm not going to get pregnant. I've got a big formal party coming up next month, and a cruise a couple of months after that. I'm living life, I'm making plans, I'm doing my best. But with every new pregnancy announced, it feels like another knife is being stabbed into my heart. It makes it a little harder for me to deal. But I'm doing my best, and my best is really okay. It's just every once in a while, on a day like today, that I can't handle it. I get angry. I feel hurt. I wonder what's so wrong with me, that God hasn't blessed me with any more children? Everyone else seems to be getting those blessings, what did I do wrong? But I know that I'm being foolish. Everyone has trials, everyone has problems. This is mine.

I'll shut up and deal with it. I'm not quite ready to count my blessings and rejoice in all of my good luck just yet, but I will eventually. Check back tomorrow, I'll probably be fine by then.

Let's Resolve Things

2010-01-02T11:40:00.002-07:00

I don't usually worry about making New Year's resolutions, because I don't usually keep them anyway. I'm terrible, I know. But recently I've been trying to make changes in my life, and since it happens to be close to New Year's, we might as well call them "New Year's resolutions" and leave it at that. Maybe this time they'll actually stick!

I resolve to work out every day except Sundays, barring illness or other unforseen conflicts. This week has been a success, I worked out Monday-Saturday, for an hour each day. It's so easy to do, I really have no excuse not to. There's a gym on base, and it's completely free for military personnel and their families. And in the gym, there's a family room where parents can exercise while their children play. Evie loves it there, and I can work out without worrying about her being underfoot. I have a few friends who go around the same time as me most days, and it's fun to see them and socialize a little. So really, it's super easy, convenient, and fun! I also just bought a $90 pair of running shoes, so if I'd better keep going every day! So far, it's been great. I had shin splints and blisters the first couple of days, but the new shoes fixed those problems and now it's all good. I feel more energized, I feel stronger, I feel more self-confident. I've lost 2 lbs. this week, which is great!

Another resolution, which goes along with the first, is to fit into my white and yellow evening gown for graduation. I bought it last summer, and it fit beautifully. Seriously gorgeous dress. Then, I had that hysterical pregnancy a few months ago and gained about 10 lbs. Since it turns out there's no baby, there's no reason I shouldn't be able to wear my dress for graduation in February. BUT, because of the weight I gained, it's a little too tight. I can still zip it, but it's uncomfortable and not nearly as flattering. So I'm trying to lose the weight and wear the dress. Two pounds is a good start if you ask me! Overall, I want the exercise routine to become a habit so my life is healthier in general, but at least I have a goal to work toward for the first six weeks. That'll give me a good start.

Finally, I resolve to have another baby this year. Granted, I can't do anything about it aside from what Ben and I are already doing... But still, it's a goal that I'm hopeful we'll be able to meet. Even if I got pregnant immediately, there would be almost a 4-year age difference between Evie and the next child. That seems like such a big gap to me, I really don't want it to be any more than that. On the other hand, I didn't really want it to be more than 3 years age difference, and that boat has sailed. All I can really do is hope and pray for this one, but it's a resolution I'm definitely dedicated to.

That's it for my resolutions. If things work out like I hope they will, I'll meet all three of them! Check back occasionally for progress reports!