Honored

So while I was on vacation (more on that to come!) the Young Women in my ward had an activity where they etched plates that represented women of each of the YW values (Woman of Faith, Woman of Good Works, Woman of Integrity, etc). After etching the plates they next chose a woman from our ward that represented each of those values to them. At the following week's activity, they each made a treat to fill the plates, and delivered them to each of the women.

I was so touched that they chose me as one of the women - the one for Virtue. They said that I was a good example to them because I can be modern and stylish, yet still retain my virtue.

I have the privilege of serving as Young Women's president to these dear, sweet girls who have taught me so much, and whom I have grown to love as though they were my own daughters. I feel a big responsibility to live up to the image they have of me and the ways in which they respect and admire me. I do not take it lightly.

For now though, I will enjoy my award. As a good friend who was given the title of Woman of Integrity said - it doesn't say anything about being humble! ;)

(Internal) Mommy Wars

The nature of my work life is such that it can take over sometimes. It's a trade off - there's a lot of flexibility (generally speaking) and I don't have to ask permission to take a day off or go to an appointment. I get to work from home, which means I haven't ever had to leave K-squared. And that last point has been the biggest blessing of my life to date (save having the kids in the first place).

But then there are days like yesterday. Days where I make the grave mistake of actually making plans and thinking that I can have some sort of control. It was the day before the first day of school, and even though it was a Tuesday I thought I could get away with pounding out a few things in the morning and taking an easy afternoon to do things with the kids. I wanted to take them to get hair cuts, I wanted to take K2 for a mani/pedi, I wanted to let them choose items for their lunches at the grocery store, help them choose clothes for the week, play with them and snuggle with them and have B give them blessings before the start of the new year.

And then work blew up. In a big way. And I think it was about 6 pm when I finally crawled downstairs and sunk down on the couch and pouted to B that I didn't get to do anything I wanted with the day. And B suggested dinner, and using up the multitude of tokens we had saved up for the local fun center. And it was so hectic that even during dinner I had to drive home to send something to a client and drive back. By the time we got home, got the kids settled and in bed I was ready to cry. So I did.

The reason I cried wasn't because I was stressed, or because my day was never ending, or because at every angle I feel like I'm having to fight to keep clients, and that for some reason, I'm having very little success with one in particular. The reason I cried was that I felt like such a bad mom. All I had wanted to do was spend time with my kids and help prepare them for the school year ahead and cap off a most amazing summer with a blissful day of happiness.

B was very helpful, as he usually is in these situations. He reminded me of all the things I did for the kids all summer, all the experiences I helped them to have. Our summer was so jam packed, in fact, I never had the chance to blog about it. We had an amazing few months - we didn't waste it.

So I've been reminded yet again that I can't always be the Martha Stewart mom I have in my dreams. I can't devote all my time to my kids, and even if I could I wouldn't. The love I have for my babies is staggering, yet I am still my own kind of mom.

-- I do not show my kids love by (very often) spending every minute of the day with them.

-- I do not show my kids love by (very often) sitting on the floor and playing barbies or cars or go fish.

-- I do not show my kids love by (very often) indulging in the silliness, or the tears, or ever - even for a moment - babying them

-- I do not show my kids love by (very often) waking up early to make them a hot breakfast, or going on field trips, or planning the class parties or heading the PTA

-- But I DO show my kids love by fostering their independence, and encouraging them to discover, learn and grow on their own

-- I DO show my kids love by listening to their stories, valuing their opinions, and treating them with respect

-- I DO show my kids love by exposing them to adventure, opportunity and new experiences every chance I get

-- I DO show my kids love by complimenting them, encouraging their strengths and talking them through their weaknesses; by expecting the best of them and giving them my best in return

-- I DO show my kids love by making sure they always look well cared for, snuggling them incessantly, and constantly reminding them how lucky I am to be blessed with their presence

So what I've learned this week is that I may not be that Martha Stewart mom I idealize - the one who wears an apron and greets the kids after school with fresh baked cookies and spends the day splashing at the pool and sits down to create every manner of craft with them at the kitchen table. My mind is often distracted and I'm pulled in a million directions and I'm stressed and sometimes even frazzled. But wow I love my kids. I love them so much I cry when I can't be with them. And when you look at these personalities... is it any wonder?

Without You

Without you I never would have known that you may need to wash an article of clothing 27 times to get the stain out.

Without you I never would have experienced laughter through sheer exasperation and frustration.


Without you I never would have known that my blood pressure can go that high.

Without you I wouldn't know how to work the 25 remotes we have.

Without you I wouldn't know that you can swallow a nickel and have it come out the other end in a very short amount of time.

Without you I wouldn't know that I could engage in a very passionate argument with a three year old (or a four, five or six year old).

Without you I wouldn't know that dream catchers really work, if you just believe.

Without you I wouldn't know that drinking peroxide - if caught early enough - could be managed without much concern.

Without you I wouldn't know that a six year old needs a cup to play baseball.

Without you I wouldn't know what half the cars on the road are.

Without you I would have forgotten the rules to Candyland, the joy of running through a sprinkler and how much wonder there is in a bug, a leaf or a dump truck.


Without you I wouldn't know how stinking cool boys are.

In short, without you I wouldn't be me.

Happy 7th Buggers.

Diary of an Amazing Kid

So K2 keeps a diary - a little iCarly number that comes complete with lock and key. Because she's five she lets me read it and I take her up on her offer because a) I love the insight into her adorable little mind and b) well if you knew me for more than half a second you know I never miss the chance to be nosy.

So anyhow, I had to share in case (heaven forbid) something ever happen to this diary. Some of these entries need to be immortalized.

Here are a few that warm my heart (all spelling and punctuation are exact - if its confusing, I've added some parenthetical clarity):

"I like to listin to my parents that is the best thige (thing) that cold hapen."

"I like to be agresiv in coccer. I like coccer the most."

"I have a Diary of a Whipy Kid that is alrieis (hilarious) it is so funny that it ckracks me up. I am so funny that I ckerack myself up."

"I like who I am. My name is prittie I like my name so so much that it is the pritieist thig in the wholl wide world."

And one that make me just a little (tiny bit) unnerved:

"I have a crush on Cooper. I do not want eneybodey to tell. Cooper has a crush on me that makes me inberist (embarrassed). Things ubout me are preetie funny beacas im a litlle gril and litelle grils no (know) much beacas they can do thigs and they can writ better then boys. I think Cooper is cute beacas he is asam (awesome) and Braden beacas they are so so cute that I want to kiss them but I am a litell inberist so ole (I'll) wate util I am 25 years old so that I and Cooper or Braden can live Happely after ever."

The Dangle Theory

For the last couple of weeks, I've been experiencing little pangs of sadness from time to time. Nothing serious - just momentary pauses where I am overcome by a sense of loss, of reflection. It's an excruciatingly busy time right now, so for the most part these pangs come and go with out a whole lot of dissection. It is true that when you have a family you have very little time for self-examination (though its probably also true that we could all benefit from a little more reflection. But I digress).

So these pangs, I think, come from a couple of different sources. The first is that right about this time I would have been giving birth to baby #3. It wasn't meant to be, and I'm pretty ok with that, but several friends have given birth recently or are about to and I can't help but recall that - had things gone differently - I would be as well.

The second pangs come from the ever-unforgiving passage of time. I try not to revel in nostalgia - let's face it, there is little you can do about time moving forward. And I'm a forward thinking person, not a reflector on the past. But nothing throws time in your face quite like watching your children grow up at breakneck speed in front of your eyes. Another school year is coming to a close, and I have no more kids in kindergarten! When did this happen? And both my kids had off-the-charts growth spurts this year. They are hardly recognizable from where they were just 12 months ago.

So the other day I took the kids out for a while so B could sleep off a cold. The recent spate of wet weather meant sports were canceled (again) so we found ourselves running random places to window shop and explore. At one point I had to take K2 to the bathroom, and as she sat there I saw her little feet dangling. And I realized that most everywhere my kids sit their feet still dangle. They want to be big - they say big things and we have big conversations and - more often than not - they stump me with wise thoughts and penetrating questions. But try as they might, their bodies just don't yet fill up any seat. And as long as they're still dangling I've got time. Time to baby them, time to grab them up in my lap for a snuggle, time to teach them while they still think I know everything. I can still grasp their ever-growing hands in mind and lead them across a busy street, or home through the park and (most times) they don't pull away.

One day their bodies will catch up to their too-grown-up-for-their-own-good-brains and they will fill in those seats and they'll be trying to maneuver gangly legs and arms in small places. But for now, they dangle.

And I take a deep breath, and the pangs subside.

My Passion

So I started my career in journalism (broadcast to be exact) and one of the number one things I love about being a journalist is that it forces you to learn a little about a huge variety of topics. It's not that I could necessarily call myself an expert in any one thing, but I sure do have a lot of beginner's knowledge in a wide array of subjects. And having to turn around and create copy or write stories explaining those topics meant that I had to delve deeper on any given subject so that I could pull the most vital pieces of information and package them in such a way that general audiences could understand - usually in less than 2 minutes.

So then I made the transition to PR and the learning didn't stop. In fact, it just got deeper. You see, a PR person's job is to educate a journalist. I can't count the number of times I've been on the phone with an editor who decided to start grilling me about the subject or industry I was pitching. It means you have to be on your toes, and you have to know a lot more than just the narrow topic you're trying to sell. Otherwise, you lose your audience. And that means you lose the story.

It's hard to quantify the number of subjects I know far more about than I ever thought I would have wanted. Things like electronics manufacturing, memory modules, storage and server industry standards, medical device technology, cutting-edge cancer treatments, different kinds of stitching and washing on high-end fabrics, which countries offer the best tax breaks and import/export opportunities, search engine optimization, global health epidemics and - as of today - small form factors in embedded computing.

Some might read that last paragraph with a yawn and a heavy sigh. And even though those words can sometimes make me go cross-eyed as I search for a way to disseminate the information into palatable marketing and press materials, I still find myself invigorated. Knowledge is power. Not power over other people necessarily, but power over circumstance. Knowledge takes you places. It's impossible to learn something new and not be moved.

I am grateful that there are experts in this world, and that those experts are patient with me as I try and pick their brains and utilize all of that knowledge for the areas where I've got some expertise - publicity. How fascinating this world is when we open ourselves up to any respectable information that comes our way. Even if it is small form factors in embedded computing. I am a better person because I can now (falteringly, yes) speak about them. And knowledge builds upon itself. So many times I study one subject only to find it helps me in a completely unrelated area down the road. Amazing!

So K-squared - if you want to know what drives your mom, if you want to find a little piece of that exhilaration I enjoy, go read a book about something you've never heard of, go try an activity that scares you. Go test your outer limits and acquire some new piece of knowledge you thought beyond your capacity. Then, share it with someone else.

After all, its the only thing we'll take with us when we go.

"I do not think much of a man who is not wiser today than he was yesterday." - Abe Lincoln

My Favorite Role

Been thinking about motherhood today, for obvious reasons. It's a complicated thing, being a mom. On the one hand its the abstract - perfect trips to Disneyland and teaching gospel principles while picnicking at the park and raising well-adjusted kids who go on to accomplish everything you dream for them.

On the other hands, its the concrete - blowing noses and tying shoes and packing lunches and doing homework and overseeing endless scheduling conflicts and cleaning up the same mess for the fifth time that day.

In reality, motherhood is somewhere in the nebulous, in the in-between. Too much focus on the abstract and you never see what is actually real, and too much reality can make you lose sight of those lofty ambitions. It seems to me that success is understanding that the dream, the power, the hope of motherhood lies in all the day-to-day minutiae.

I've only been a parent for six years - that hardly makes me an expert. And the kids are young enough that I haven't had a whole lot of time to take a breath and focus on the bigger picture. But on those rare days - days like today - when my earthly self gets a little closer to the spiritual self and my mind is opened to what I'm really doing, I recognize that it's all those little moments that add up to the big picture. The drudgery, the frustration, the repetitiveness, the often never-ending and rarely thankful job is absolutely everything that matters to me.

You see every time I remind my kids to sneeze into the crook of their arm, every time I insist they drink water or milk over soda and juice, every time I remind them to say a prayer before they eat, I am showing them I love them. Every time I grab them in a snuggle, every time I make them clean up their room, every time I read them a story and every time I insist they try their best I am showing them that - above anything else - I value my role as their mother and I consider it the most sacred thing I could ever do.

While the kids will certainly remember some of the 'big' moments in life, and those moments will have their own unique impact, I'd like to argue that its all those little moments when added up together that will really shape them into who they are. Every time I remind my kids of something I've already said 100 times, I impress upon them what is most important and who I want them to become. And every time I volunteer in their classroom or make their favorite dinner or remind them to buckle up they are once again comforted by the knowledge that there are absolutes in life and that, no matter what, I have their best interest at heart.

I am immensely proud of my children - in a way only another parent can understand. But I am also immensely proud of how their presence in this world means I get to take on the role of mother. I want them to know, I do not take it lightly. Even on my bad days, they are the two most perfect beings that have ever existed. And mothering them - even on their bad days - is my own little slice of heaven.

Trademarks, Shouldbe's (and catfish too)

Aw hell to catfish (that's for you T!) its been a looong time since I blogged. And for some reason the longer it goes, the more insurmountable it becomes. Every time I sit in front of the computer I'm plagued by the shouldbe's. I should be working on a myriad of work things. I should be responding to emails both professional and personal. I should be blogging for posterity. Those shouldbe's can really weigh you down.

But what I've really been thinking about lately is trademarks. In the world of marketing/branding/PR its vital that you put your stamp on everything you create so no one else can stake their claim to it. So why shouldn't we do that in our personal life? Because there are some things that are indelibly ours. So here are a few things I'm most proud of (or at the very least, are really never going to change):

* In our house, we are not wallflowers. This means there is a lot of, ahem, passionate viewpoints thrown around. Yes we can get heated, yes we can raise voices, but yes we all have thick skins. It is true that we could all benefit from a good chill pill once in a while, but I don't think I would trade our passion and vigor for all the calm and peace in the world. We have opinions, we share them, we thrive off of them. We are not a go-with-the-flow kind of family. Trademark.

* If there were two words that you could use to describe K2's attitude most of the time, it would be righteous indignation. You see, no one is more confident in how right they are then K2, and no one is less afraid to stand her ground. And when you have that kind of confidence, you can't help but be a little short on humility. And yet she combines it with such personality, sweetness and magnetism that you forgive her (ummm, how do I say it?) sheer arrogance. Even when she - at 5 years old - is arguing with you on the right way to spell a word. You know you're right (of course you are) but you will never convince her otherwise. Now that's confidence. Trademark.

* K1 can be a little sensitive sometimes, which probably wouldn't be so noticeable in another family but stands out a bit in our house. But the thing about K1 is, no one gets over something faster than he does. He may be super upset - angry or hurt or frustrated - and a simple hug, a funny joke, a sly little smile in his direction and he's over it. He just can't hang on to sadness, no matter how hard he tries. The kid just lives to be happy, and it's a good thing because he has the best smile in the universe. He may make you a little insane with his incessant energy and penchant for silliness, but its impossible to be down when you hang around K1. Trademark.

* In our family, we're not so much with the sticking around the house. We're adventure-seeking, new-experience-needing kind of people. It often translates to last-minute plans, long drives and random, out-of-the-way places. We have our schedule and structure same as the next guy, but any time we get a brief break in the have-to's we go find some want-to's. It's not that we're crazy thrill seeking dare devils (though there's a small bit of that in each of us), but its more that we realize there is a great big world of possibility around us and whatever it is, its got to be more interesting than sticking around the neighborhood. This fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants approach has made for kids who travel really well, but its always been a little hard to find friends who can be as last-minute as we are (and who have the same sense of randomness). But if you're looking for an anything-goes weekend with no limitations or expectations, give us a call. We're there. Trademark.

It would be great to file a patent or register a trademark for everything we love that makes us unique. Even those things that are hard, that take effort to manage, shouldn't be changed. They are what make life worth living, they are how we leave our own indelible mark on the world around us. And its those distinct traits that get me through all the shouldbe's of my life. Trademark.

Ode to a Personal Hero

Every once in a great while
your brain is touched both high and low
by writers who expand your world
like Dickens or Shakespeare or Poe.

But today is a day
reserved for the best
Today we celebrate Theodor Geisel
(Dr. Seuss to all the rest).

From the time I was a wee child
I relished the genius of this man
from Marvin K. Mooney and Bartholomew Cubbins
to Sam-I-Am in Green Eggs and Ham.

There isn't a story that didn't excite me
subtle, moral and funny, they were always on pitch
I committed to memory the shrewd lessons he taught
I learned from Horton, the Sneetches, and the Grinch.

As I got older I studied his politics
his feelings on racism, the environment and war
and I grew to admire this man's mind
beyond his children's writings which I adored

I revered his use of anapestic tetrameter -
no one could rhyme quite like this man
(you can see that I am trying,
but it is mostly just a sham)

And then I met a man
who loved the Seuss as much as I
I pledged my devotion to him in rhyme
as I became his loving bride.

And Dr. Seuss has played a part
in our marriage, our lives and home
whether its quoting, or decorating, or playing a game
we've taken something from every tome.

So I keep Dr. Seuss' genius close by,
he seems to understands the places I'll go
as I teach my children his masterpieces
and watch another generation grow.

Happy Birthday Dr. Seuss!

Scariest. Moment. Ever.

So B and I just got back from our Valentine's trip to Vegas. It was fabulous. And true to form we forgot the camera so we have no pictorial documentation. BOO! Anyhow - I'll try and blog more about the trip later. Here's what I really want to talk about - the trip home.

We were set to come back late Sunday afternoon, and that morning we met my high school bff and her family for a huge brunch at the Wynn. Needless to say there were amazing eats and, needless to say, B overdid it. He doesn't have that button in his brain that most of us have that tells us we've had enough. If you've met B you know he doesn't really need that button (though I still maintain that if you check back with us in 20 years you'll find B stuck in a doorway because his metabolism caught up with him).

Anyhow, so when it was all said and done B realized he wasn't feeling all that well. It's not entirely uncommon for him to overeat and then not feel well - especially when presented with a lot of good food. We spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon walking around the strip and he thought that was helpful to get things moving through him, which in most cases is usually all it takes. But in truth he was a bit lethargic and his stomach never did feel normal.

By the time we got on the plane he was grateful for the chance to sit and hopefully sleep. As we started to taxi and were about to take off, he pulled out his barf bag and said he really didn't feel well. I told him to breathe through his nose and out his mouth, and got my barf bag ready too. A few seconds later the retching and heaving started, and unfortunately it wasn't the quiet, delicate kind (is there such a thing when you are violently ill? probably not). After the second go round I hit the call button and B remained hunched over himself in what I assumed was an attempt to stay hidden from view and to await the next go round. When the flight attendant came over, she started asking him if he was ok, and B didn't sit up or respond. I leaned in closer to him and asked if he could sit up - asked if he was ok and to please answer. When he didn't respond to me I grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up, only to see him completely gone - unresponsive and unconscious.

So then I started to panic a little. Or a lot. I just know I started to get hysterical and immediately everyone in the 10 rows ahead of us started yelling for a doctor. And then someone called for one over the loud speaker. And the two women sitting directly in front of me reached through the seats and grabbed my hands and told me it would be ok. From somewhere a man came up to us who was an EMT, and another man who was a dentist.

And then suddenly B took in a huge gulp of air. After that things slowed down a bit. He was able to talk, in between heavings, and he was making sense. He was void of color and still retching mightily, but he was awake. I was so terrified in that brief moment - thinking he aspirated his vomit or there was something far more wrong with him then just a stomach bug. It was such a relief to have him there again. They turned the plane around and brought it back to the gate and the paramedics came on board and took us off. After a quick examination they concluded that it was most likely some type of food poisoning and that we could either spend the night at a hospital or a hotel, but chances were good all he needed was a little peace and rest and a nearby bathroom.

So, B and I stayed one more night in Vegas at a hotel and I had an anxious night of sleep while I checked every so often that he was still breathing. And after the bout at the airport he really was much better and enjoyed a good 14 hours of sleep. We made it back home today. I am grateful my sister was willing to keep the kids and that the holiday made it easier on everyone to have us gone for extra time. I am grateful for the people on the plane who were kind, understanding, helpful and reassuring. But mostly I am grateful that B and I just have a crazy story to tell and nothing more.

It was a poignant reminder on Valentine's Day of what I love and why I love it so.

The Dark(er) Side

As much as I like to seem put together, in control and well - successful, truth is that I am horribly ruled by my hormones. Not in the cuckoo-crazy way, and not in the psychotic knife-wielding PMS way. No, my hormones are more subtle, more insidious and more cunning. (Of course, its entirely possible I'm using my hormones as an easy out - but if its not hormonal that I've got I.S.S.U.E.S.)

There's at least one week out of the month were I LOATHE my looks. I hate everything about them. I can't imagine why I haven't been banned from proper society. There's another week where I think I have no friends, nobody likes me and everyone has moved on with their lives and forgotten all about me. Then there's the week where my patience is razor thin and my mouth is razor sharp. Somewhere in all of this I have a random good day, where I am feeling pretty freakin' awesome. One good day. That's what I get.

Now, before I start getting recommendations on institutions, let me just say that I keep this all pretty hidden. On the outside I seem pretty ok, and I AM pretty ok. These are deep, dark thoughts that - for the most part - logic easily quells. I know I'm no uglier one day to the next. I know that my friends are my friends, regardless of what day of the month it is. And I even know that my irrational reactions to irritating things around me aren't typical of how I generally am.

Despite all of these perception problems, I truly am a happy, optimistic person. I generally think the best about other people, can easily find beauty in everyone around me and am always up for something fun or adventurous. Both B and I believe that things have a way of working out the way that they should, and I know that more often than not people really are just trying their best. So why is that I give others so much compassion, understanding and leeway and give myself absolutely none?

It's an interesting question, one I don't have the answer to but one I expect plagues others too. I don't mean to be sexist, but I don't think its an issue men have so much - not like women. I see such a difference in the way K1 and K2 are. K1 lets so much roll of his back - a simple shrug, a laugh and its gone. But not K2. She is so particular - so determined. Everyone HAS to like her. Her work HAS to be the best. She HAS to be right. Is she just like me? Or is she just female? We can't blame it on her hormones just yet, but maybe she's headed down the same road of obsessiveness that I'm on.

I hear women of a "certain age" (and by that I mean older than me) talk about how enlightening it was to get to that "certain age" and finally figure out they don't CARE what other people think and they're not in the business of pleasing others. I really don't consider myself a people pleaser, but I would like to get to the point where I am in love with myself and damn the rest of the world. I want to get there sooner rather than later so I can pass that on to K2, but if history is any indication K2 may just have to get their on her own. It seems to be a place that can only be traversed alone. Until then, I'll keep blaming hormones and avoiding my I.S.S.U.E.S. Seems the most happy, optimistic place to be.

Pet Peeve: Taking Offense

I have a lot of pet peeves - as I'm sure we all do. So many in fact, I may devote more than just one post to this topic. (So get excited, something to look forward to!)

Today's post however, is the pet peeve of people taking offense. I JUST DON'T GET IT. I guess I'm not someone who's offended easily, or maybe more to the point, I can recognize when offense is actually meant and when it is not. B might disagree with me here, but to him I will say sometimes I just like to pick a fight or pretend to be bothered by something just to watch him squirm. It's true.

But back to the pet peeve. This post is not the result of a specific event, its just the accumulation of times when I see someone taking offense at what is truly inoffensive. People do it when they feel someone has derided their culture, or their heritage, or their religion or their way of life. They do it when someone says something remotely constructive but that is construed as hypercritical. They jump to defense to protect their children or their choices or their actions. They even take offense by what people don't say or don't do. In short, it often seems that people are just looking for ways to be offended.

I don't get this - wouldn't you rather assume the best of people? Wouldn't you rather believe that they just weren't thinking, or that they meant nothing specific by their comment, or that they were honestly just trying to help? Wouldn't the world just be a happier place if we could practice a little benefit of the doubt?

I ask you - nine times out of ten, is anything ever gained by taking offense?

I rest my point.

A Love Story

This is not one of those fairytale love stories, the kind that start with your eyes meeting across the room and ends with happily ever after.

It's not one of those Hollywood love stories, the kind that start with you hating everything about each other and ends when you're thrown together and discover how much you love all the things you thought you hated.

This is not one of those fated love stories, the kind that starts with forces greater than yourself pulling you toward one another and ends with your submission to the powers-that-be as you are inexplicably brought together.

And its not a star-crossed love story, the kind that seems so perfect on the outside but that is destined for failure.

No, this is an unexpected love story. The kind that catches you off guard on a random Tuesday when you are looking for everything but love and slowly unveils reasons that not only should you be together, but that you bring out the best in each other when you both really try. It's the kind of love story that gets stronger and more sure - not in spite of, but because of, the challenges and struggles you endure.

It's the kind of love story that can't help but at times feels ill-fitting and tired, but just when you think you've reached the end of your capacity to forgive and to compromise and to grow, you find immeasurable reserves and remember what it is you are working so hard to achieve.

It's the kind of love story that gets better with age - not fairytale better, but real life better. Real in the way it challenges you, real in the way it satisfies you, real in the way it strengthens you and real in the way that you know its something you can be proud of.

It's the kind of love story that experiences both peaks and valleys, but mercifully the peaks are higher and last longer than any valley depth. It's the kind of love story that provides an enduring partnership, understanding, commitment and genuine concern for each other, as well as a mutual respect and desire to keep working until every possible stone is unturned and every detail has been done right.

This kind of love story is quiet and sure - it doesn't parade itself for others to envy, and no one else would appreciate its rare and unique beauty in quite the same way. It's comfortable and relaxed and honest and it's the safe place to fall when everything else seems off-kilter. It's the kind of love story that doesn't need a holiday or an anniversary to be noted and celebrated. And its exactly the kind of love story you were meant to have.

My New Hero

I had wanted to see The Blind Side ever since it came out, and last night we finally got the chance. It hasn't been far from my mind since. I immediately fell in love with Sandra Bullock's character, Leigh Anne Touhy. From about the first 10 minutes of watching her on the screen, all I could think was "I want to be just like this woman!" I loved absolutely everything about her - her unapologetic femininity, her obvious taste for the finer things without letting it define her, her concrete understanding of what she defined as right and wrong, her intense love for her children but her shameless high expectations for them, her ability to stand up for herself and put others in their much needed place without being rude, and most of all... her ability to not spend too much time thinking about it, but to just DO IT.

So if I have a New Years resolution, it is to be more like this woman. Maybe I'll get the movie and watch it from time to time to for an additional dose of motivation and inspiration. I'd like to find a way to BE more Christian, not just talk about being Christian. I'd like to be even more involved in my kids' lives so that I can always be a gentle reminder of our values and expectations. I'd like to find ways to be of greater service and to better help those around me - including those I know very little about. Most of all, I'd like to think a little less and do a little more. And I want to do all of that with no fear, and no apologies. I know what is right for me and my family, and its about time I stop looking for acceptance and justification, and just DO IT already.

Things that make you go hmmm (or more like AAAGGGHHH!)

I feel your pain Joey. Oh, how I feel your pain.

Delayed

Alright, this post is now officially six days old and for that - I apologize! But how can I let my baby sister's 27th birthday pass without reminding everyone why she is so A.W.E.S.O.M.E. (Side note: I never refer to her as my baby sister - mostly because she doesn't feel like that to me, but hey - if it gets under her skin a little then its worth it! haha)

So the cliche is that to know (said person) is to love (said person) but that's not exactly the case with April. I mean, I am sure many people love her just by simply knowing her, but if that's the extent of their relationship then they are cheating themselves. To really know April you have to be patient - you have to be willing to pull back the layers and see more than what she initially gives out. You have to work a little harder to discover how amazing she is. But all that work is worth it.

First off, she's got a dry, sarcastic sense of humor and a wicked sense of recall that allows her to always have the best come back at just the right time. She also is someone you can talk about ANYTHING to, and those kind of people are few and far between. She lets me make fun of her, and let's face it - I do that a lot. But its only because she makes it so fun (and she leaves herself wide open...).

Most of all, I can count on her. And we think alike. And she asks for my opinion and sometimes seeks my advice which makes me feel wise and worthwhile. And she's beautiful, which has nothing to do with why I love her but c'mon, she's freaking Audrey Hepburn.

Vacation, part 2

OK, after we spent the first 3 days in Disney territory, we said goodbye to our generous hosts and headed down south to San Diego. This was B's first time in this city, and its a place he'd always wanted to visit. He loved it. After checking out the city a bit, we headed over to Coronado and the beach! Such a beautiful day.






We spent Thanksgiving at SeaWorld where the kids were enamored of the killer whale show (not Shamu. KILLER WHALE). I myself was a big fan of the 4-D Polar Express movie and a truly amazing roller coaster/water ride. We didn't buy the picture that they automatically snap on the way down, but K1 was in the front of the boat and had the BEST look of sheer anticipation and excitement on his face. It was awesome.




We ended the trip by heading to the Wild Animal Park where we rode in a super cool balloon that took you 400 feet in the air and had the best views of the park. If you've never been, its a beautiful place with some great animals including this: (a present for my BYU friends and one I won't even need to explain)


Here's the balloon, and the view:




It was a great trip, and a great way to kick off the holiday season. I am grateful for the opportunity we had to be together as a family, and create priceless memories. Now on to the business of soaking up the season!

Vacation, part 1

For our little family, Thanksgiving is a time for travel. While Christmas is filled with traditions and history and a desire to be near family, Thanksgiving is our time to get away and enjoy something new. And despite the daunting recession, we were able to make a trip work thanks to frequent flyer miles and the most gracious hospitality of our dear friends the Hatch family who put us up for four nights.

So we started our vacation at Disney, staying in the beautiful Rancho Santa Margarita (where they have street names such as Avenida De Las Flores - imagine having to teach your kids their address!) where we were hosted by the fabulous Beda and Brock and their awesome kids (who were oddly similar in every conceivable way to my own children). We had great fun at Disneyland (despite crowds) and California Adventure which we really enjoyed and was a first-time experience for all of us.




We took K2 to Ariel's Grotto at California Adventure to have lunch with the Disney Princesses. I am SO glad we did it, it was 100% worth it to watch her absolute awe. In one of the multitude of ways K2 and I are alike, I don't think I ever see her speechless. Except here. They bring the princesses out one at a time, and they spend a few minutes at your table so you have a little time in between each one. During those times, K2 would just sit quietly staring at the place the next princess would emerge and too anxious to eat. She truly didn't have anything to say! When the princesses would come she would immediately hug them, stare at them, talk to them, take a picture, get an autograph and then sit and wait patiently for the next. I think I got her to eat two or three bites of her spaghetti through the whole thing. She even made a picture for Sleeping Beauty ahead of time and was so excited to give it to her. Sleeping Beauty made such a big deal about it, telling her where she was going to put it in her castle.
Worth. Every. Penny.


Oh and K1, who insisted beforehand that he had no desire to take pictures with any of the princesses, was so overcome with their beauty he had to get in on the action. Yeah buddy, just what I thought.



There's a million more pictures and stories and we haven't even moved on to our second phase of the vacation, San Diego. I'll save that for another post. To end this one, a photo that sums up how much energy the kids expended each day:

For Your (or maybe just my own) Viewing Pleasure

OK I'm late, but here they are (drum roll please...). Peter Pan and Tinkerbell making their debut (and Happy Halloween btw):

Ace of Cakes

So everyone has their secret dream job right? Maybe you're living your dream job, but chances are even if you love your life you have a secret dream of something you'd LOVE to do, LOVE to accomplish, LOVE to be good at. I'd LOVE to know what it is ;). Want to know mine?

I best most of you that know me really well would say my secret dream is to be a U.S. Senator. And you'd be right - it is my number one dream. And I'd be freakin' good at it people. Freakin' good. Maybe even White House press secretary. I'd be good at that too. Not hubris guys, just knowing my strengths ;).

But you know my even more secret dream? The one I never really share with anyone because truth is, I'm not sure I would ever be good at it? But oh how I would LOVE to be able to do it. I would love to be a world renowned chef. But not just any chef, a pastry chef. The kind that makes gorgeous, beyond belief cakes, cookies, confections of all kinds. Beautiful works of art. A veritable explosion of flavors and cutting-edge collaborations. Maybe I would even have my own reality show to highlight my fierce creations.

The only thing holding me back is my inability to branch out on my own in the kitchen - to experiment and not be afraid to fail. Oh, and my utter lack of artistic creativity. But that's it. Otherwise I would be awesome.

So I guess we're back to the first dream. Congress... here I come. And maybe if I find a way to be truly awesome, I'll bake everyone cupcakes while I'm there.