Little Eliza Marie

Today is a bitter-sweet day. My not so baby sister Eliza is graduating from high school. I'm so excited for her, and so sad to be far away. So, to help me smile a bit more today, I decided to reminisce about her.

I remember the day my parents told me we were going to have a baby brother or sister. Since we were one boy and two girls, we were all certain that baby #4 would be a boy. Boy, were we surprised!!!

I still have vivid memories of her first birthday. She grabbed her cake, squished it through her fingers, then smashed it in her eye. I thought it was the funniest thing I had ever seen! And was very happy to share the story to any listening, or not listening, ear.

When my older brother was a senior in high school, Eliza was starting Kindergarten. I couldn't believe she wouldn't graduate until 2014!!! That was eons away! How would we even say that? Two thousand fourteen or twenty-fourteen? Weird!

As I grew up, moved away to college, got married, etc..., I've tried to still be a sister. I didn't want to be so removed from Eliza that she felt like she never knew me. It was important to me to still be a part of her life, even if it was just a small part. Last summer she went with my family to Illinois. It was so fun to have her along, and not just have someone who could help buckle in kids, though I did enjoy that too. I've enjoyed seeing her plays (she is quite the gifted actor, by the way; I kind of wish I had her natural ability), hearing her sing, playing with my kids (they all LOVE Aunt "Yiza"), and hearing stories of the amazing example she is to those around her. She has gone from that little sister pushing her ride on toy around the yard, to an amazing young woman who is going to change the world for the better!

Congratulations Little Eliza Marie!

Throw Back Thursday: Fashion Forward...Or Maybe Backward

I wasn't always the fashionable woman you would see if you came to my house right now (I'm in yoga pants and a tee-shirt). But I have to say, that I did march to my own drum a bit, as far as style is concerned.

As I was doing laundry this afternoon, I put away my 5 year old daughter's knit poncho and was reminded of how awesome my ponchos were (yes, multiple). So I thought I would share my fashion awesomeness from junior high and high school for Throw Back Thursday.

This first picture looks normal at first sight, but look down. Look at the awesome red roll up cuffs on my jeans. Awesome! Don't worry, I had a pair with aqua on the bottom too. I think this was the first day of 8th grade, so you realize I developed an awesome sense of style early. I think that was also the year I bought a shirt with a fuzzy duck on the front when I went school shopping. I'm a little sad I couldn't find a picture, because that was even more awesome than the pants. 

Next is the poncho! Sorry, this is a one of a kind, made by me, poncho. Please don't be too disappointed. My dear friends lovingly referred to this poncho as "the rug." But I still wore it! I was dang proud of it, in fact! I put a lot of time and work into knitting it and I really didn't care what anyone else thought. It now sits in a box in my attic. It's just to awesome to get rid of!

And for your viewing pleasure, pancho #2! You don't get the full effect since I am sitting, but it was almost as great at the rug! 

I think my very favorite fashion from high school was plaid! I owned two pairs of plaid pants and wore both regularly through college! Don't worry, I still have them as well. I don't wear them anymore, but I want to use them to make a quilt one day. Again, they are just to awesome to part with.

 Lastly, corduroy! I owned quite a bit of corduroy, and I'm really not sure why. Though I LOVED my pink corduroy pants I got my senior year of high school. I was very sad when I spilled liquid latex on them during a college theatre make up class. Though, they will be in the quilt as well.

Now I can only hope my kids will be as fashion forward as I was!

Primary Lessons

As I drove my kids home from church yesterday, our conversation went something like this:

Me: “What did you learn in Primary today?”

S: “Everything.”

“Everything?”

"Yeah!" She then elaborated on her lesson about priesthood blessings. She even had a picture she drew to clarify what she was talking about! I was so happy that she learned so much and has a teacher that does a great job of helping S remember what she learns.

“That's great, Sweetie! What did you learn Z?”

Z: “Umm....I don't know.”

“Well, what did Sister G (his teacher) talk to you about?”

“Umm.....To sit in my chair.”

Stifle laughter. Sounds about right. 

So S learned everything and Z learned he is supposed to sit in his chair. Sounds like a successful day in Primary to me!

As a side note, if you aren't familiar with Priesthood blessings, please check out the following link for more information. Then you can know “everything” like S does!

http://www.mormon.org/searchresults#?query=priesthood%20blessings&filter=site

I Hate Markers

 I was sitting in my living room, chatting with a friend, when I hear squeals of delight emanating from my two boys. I comment on how well they play together. I love it when they are happy.

A moment later, in walks W looking like this:

You have got to be kidding me!

What does that play room look like?

They aren't even my walls! This is a rental!

Rush into playroom and find this:

Makes sense. If you are drawing on your brother's face and going to blame him, you might as well draw on your own face.

I find the marker. Hide it. I don't see any more markers. I do see my craft paint. Glad that didn't get opened. Hide that as well.

After my friend goes home I will have to clean the playroom. I'm sure to find marker somewhere else.

Friend leaves. I make dinner. Put kids to bed. I'm too tired and it is too late for baths. We'll clean it off tomorrow. We aren't going anywhere, and I've cleaned some off already.

Next day:

Pretty normal day. Z seems to be on one, but that is how 3 year old boys are, right? Day wears on.

Boys are playing in the playroom. Great! I can get some stuff done. In waddles W looking like this:

Seriously?!?

Seriously?!?

Run to play room and find this:

 

Great! Guess I should have looked harder for more markers. Found them now! And they are going in the garbage.

What did I learn?

Little boys find things. Everything. Anything. Hiding it doesn't always work. But throwing it in the garbage does.

"Washable" markers are not all that washable. Though it did come out of their hair pretty well.

The face has got to be the hardest thing to wash marker off of, especially if your kid doesn't like getting water in their eyes.

On a side note, I think Z was trying to put on make up and paint his nails because he had a beautiful shade of red on his eye lid and some bright colors on his toe nails. Funny boy.

I do have to admit, the first time it took a lot of will power on my part not to laugh. Not so much the second time though.

My Mom

Since Mother's Day was Sunday, I have been thinking a lot the last few days about my mom and memories I have of us. As I have reflected on some of these memories, I have had a strong desire to write them down. So, that is my blog post today. These are a few of the memories I have had on my mind.

The first memory I have been thinking about happened when I was about 8 years old. I auditioned for the Nutcracker at the ballet studio I attended. I was just barely old enough to audition and was ecstatic! I was put in as an alternate for the buffoons. After my parents explained that I would get to practice and learn the dance and fill in if another girl couldn't make it, I was a bit disappointed, but still excited that there was a chance I would get to preform. There were three alternates, so I knew if I was going to get picked if an alternate was needed, I would have to work really hard. And I did! I poured my heart into every practice. As the time of the performance arrived, we were informed that all of the alternates were going to have a chance to dance because other dancers had to pull out. From what I remember, I was told that I would get to dance in some of the performances, but at the last minute another dancer left and I was supposed to be there every night to dance. I was thrilled, of course! At the time, I didn't realize that it took money and tickets to watch me at every performance. So when I realized my family wouldn't be there for one of the nights, I was really sad. Now, this is just what I remember for a long time ago. In my mind's eyes, I can see my mom being the only one that came to the last performance. I was so sad it was over and even more sad that she was the only one there. But, my mom, being the best mom ever, comforted me and made me feel so special. It didn't matter that the other girls had tons of people there every night. That everyone seemed to have a bouquet of roses and I didn't. My mom thought I did a great job and was there for me. That was all I needed.

Years later I started taking voice lessons. Because of that, I had the opportunity to sing for competitions a lot. It was always fun, but nerve racking. I am blessed with a very musical mother. She can play the piano like no one else I know. Because of that, she would accompany me every time I sang. I think that gave me an advantage in several different ways. First, we were so in sync. She could follow me in a way no one else would have been able to. Second, she insisted that we always say a little prayer together first. That would calm my nerves and helped me in ways I can't explain. Next, I always knew that my biggest cheerleader was there, performing along with me. We were in it together. And lastly, I knew in the end my mom knew how hard I had worked. So it didn't matter what a judge said. We she knew I had grown and she would be there to help me keep growing.

 

The last memory that has been on my mind is how often I had people come up to me and say, “Are you Marilyn's daughter?” It didn't matter if it was huge distant family reunion, a trip to the store (without my mom there), or something else. I had people I had never seen (that I knew of) come recognize me because I look so much like my mother. A few years back I made a family calendar with old pictures. One of the pictures was my parents wedding picture. Multiple times the month is was displayed in my kitchen, I had people ask if that was my wedding picture, then do a double take because my dad and my husband look nothing alike. I always felt it was a compliment when they would say, “You look just like you mom!” I don't think you could say anything to me that would be a bigger compliment.

I have been so blessed to be raised by a mother who is close to my father, me, and mostly to Heavenly Father. She is has been an example in countless ways, and I love her for it. So, even though I'm a few days late, Happy Mother's Day Mom!!!

 

 

 

All I Want for Mother's Day

Growing up, I remember Mother's Day or my mom's birthday would near, and I would ask her what she wanted. Without fail, she would reply, "I want a clean house!"

Of course she had to be kidding. No, what do you REALLY want?

All I want is a clean house, she would reiterate.

I couldn't believe it. She must just want me to save my money or something. She can have a clean house any time, right? This is a day for presents! I want to buy something. I want to wrap something. A clean house is so boring! So, I would go out and buy some frivolous present and be super excited for how much she was going to love it! It would be way better than a lame "clean house."

Now I'm a mom.

Now I understand.

All I want for Mother's Day is a clean house.

No.

Really.

Clean.

No toys.

No dishes.

No dirty clothes in my living room (I don't even know how they got there).

Opening resents is fun, but what is even better? A clean house that I can just relax in. I can't believe how much more relaxed and happy I am when my house is clean!

But, let's be realistic. I have four kids five and under. I heard the saying that cleaning your house with kids is like brushing your teeth while eating Oreos. Yup! But one day, when they are a bit older, I will be able to convince them that even better than another necklace or picture for my wall is a clean house! Right?

Messes of Art

Z is quite the little "artist." He likes to use unusual mediums though. Here are a few:

- pen on sheets (he was pretty proud of his drawings on my bed)
- blue toothpaste on walls
- drops of milk from W's sippy cup on toys, scooters, hair, etc...
- carmex also on sheets and hair
- butter knife markings on the wall (who knew you could draw on a wall with a butter knife?)
- boogers on the wall
- marker on his own or his brother's face
- Aquaphore on bed frame and book shelf
- crayon on a magnadoodle
- pencil on a computer screen
- smashed green beans in a boot and on the floor
-sour cream smeared on the table

I'm sure there are more masterpieces I am forgetting. He has quite the creative side.

I was looking back at pictures the other day and realized his tendency to take things and spread them started from a very young age. And I love the advice my sister-in-law once gave me: you can get mad or take a picture. I am thankful for the times I chose to take a picture. I love my little guy and all of his energy and creativity! My goal is to take more pictures and yell much less. And maybe let him help me clean up his creations more often.

Friends and Moving

Moving as much and as far as we have in our marriage has never really been in my "Plan." But, it has happened, and I have pushed forward. I have cried. I have moved. I have found friends. I have made a new life in a new place. And I have been thankful for the support of friends and family. This last move was very different than all of our previous moves because we now have four children, and some of them are old enough to care. I can't tell you how many times I was told how quickly kids will adjust. They will be fine.

Well, it has been well over 3 months since we left Utah, and S is still having a hard time. We will often be driving and she will tell me how she misses our old house. Or we will have a play group where she is the oldest kid by a couple of years and tell me how she misses her friends. Dealing with something hard for yourself is one thing, but watching your child deal with something new and hard is another all together.

Yesterday S had a play date with her friend who is moving this week. This is the only girl within a two year span that attends our church, and since she is not is school, it is really the only friend she has close to her age so far. After the play date, I made the mistake of mentioning her friend's move. S just melted. I haven't seen her so broken hearted in a really long time. She just cried and cried. All I could do was think what a stupid thing I did in mentioning the move. I felt like the world's worst mom at that moment. She wouldn't be consoled.


I tried to get her mind off of the move by asking her what she did at her play date. I talked about how no matter how many time we, or a friend moved, she would always have her family. She seemed to like the idea of her family being her best friends, but was still pretty sad. In the end, the only thing that cheered her up was asking where she wanted to go for dinner. So we braved the pouring rain, and ate at Arby's last night.

During all of this, I tried to remind her of a conversation we had a week or so ago. I had told her about the upcoming move of this and a couple other older friends she has here. I told her that she would meet new friends when she starts school in the fall. But I also told her that she could ask Heavenly Father to send her a friend. She thought this was a good idea.

A couple of days later I overheard a conversation she was having, I think, with my mom.

"I asked Heavenly Father to send me a friend, and He said, 'Yeah.'"

I know that my prayers are heard, but I also am pretty sure that Heavenly Father has a soft spot for children. So, I pray for her, and I remind her to keep praying. And we both are on the lookout for the great friend we know is coming.