108

Now that number might represent how many years old I feel when I wake up in the morning. Seriously. I can't believe how stiff my muscles are and how bad my back hurts when I get out of bed in the morning. And the longer I stay in bed, the worse it gets. So, no staying in bed past about 7:30 a.m. for me. My back just gets stiffer and more uncomfortable the longer I lay there.

The number 108 might also represent Carson's weight class for this year. Well, the weight class is actually 106 but for most tournaments and post-season there is a 2-pound weight allowance, effectively making the weight class 108. I am so glad for that extra 2 pounds...108 is doable but 106? Yikes!

But those two previous possibilities are not really what 108 represents today. 108 is the number of blog posts I wrote for this year, beating last year's total by one whole blog post. I thought about doing a "year in review in pictures" for this last post of the year, but I decided to finish with pictures from Christmas Eve Day and Christmas.

The crew went ice skating.



Some were a little happier just watching

Then before we knew it, it was Christmas morning. And there was a huge pile of presents to be passed out, but fortunately there were a lot of cute little elves ready to help.

 



And some traditions continued...

A "Precious Mommy" ornament. This one was from Carson. Katelyn gave me one, too.

Family picture in front of the Christmas tree. Next year, Katelyn will be in Tempe.

 

And there were little ones to provide overall entertainment and cuteness to fill the day



2013 was a wonderful year with many memories created with family and friends. I am looking forward to 2014.





Christmas Cookie Chaos

The other night as Carson and I were driving in the car I asked him what his favorite part of Christmas was. He thought for a moment and then said he wasn't sure. I shared that when I was younger my favorite part was thinking about all of the presents I might receive, but now I am grateful for time I can spend with family. With family time in mind, I invited my parents, my brothers and their families over to our house last night for some Christmas cookie making and decorating. I think it is safe to say that our house has not heard that level of noise in quite awhile. But the kids had a great time, grandpa got to direct the process, Carson and Dave entertained and the rest of us grown-ups just sat around and watched the chaos. It was awesome.

Josie enjoying the fire, not having the first clue about what will be happening at our house in just a few short hours

Grandpa helping each child get a turn cutting out cookies

 

There were some who were more interested in the trains than the cookies

 One kiddo was just too tiny to participate

 Sometimes we left the kids on their own to decorate with Josie to supervise

 Uncle Dave got in on the decorating action at the very end

Some of the finished products

I have an awesome life...just wish I could eat the cookies. I heard they were delicious.

Caring Is Contagious

Back in December 2008 I blogged about this month's character trait, Caring. I posted almost daily small observations of the caring that I saw throughout the day. It was so nice to re-read those posts. Now, I'm not a Grinch in any way, but reading of all the caring that I had seen caused my heart to grow almost 2 sizes yesterday.

While I am not "elf on the shelf" and my report of caring might not affect behavior or presents received, I have spent some time being intentional in my observations of people and seeking out examples of caring. Recognizing that caring is happening all around us should be inspiring, and hopefully infectious.

I have seen caring in...

a high school boy who took several minutes to sit with an upset student, waiting patiently with that student until he was feeling better

a sweet daughter who interrupted her breakfast to help her mom get the Christmas cards and letters put into envelopes

a loving father who received a phone call at 11:40 p.m. from his daughter. She was stuck at the bottom of a snowy hill. He drove 30 minutes on slippery roads to go help her.

a caring son who makes sure all of the advent calendars have been moved to the correct day, helping build the anticipation of this wonderful time of year.

an educational assistant who delivered a small present to the school nurse, saying "I think sometimes you are just forgotten."

a ward choir director who has given much of his time to prepare a special Christmas program this year, thinking outside of the box and incorporating the Primary children in the sacrament program.

a CBS evening news piece about a lonely young woman who just wanted to rent some parents for Christmas and wound up inspiring many people to seek out those who were lonely
http://www.cbsnews.com/videos/on-the-road-woman-seeks-rental-family-on-craigslist/#postComments

this video message about three young men who take the time to notice others in need and then take just the extra few seconds that is needed to offer assistance

So what examples of caring have you seen? Have you taken the time to notice? Does seeing caring inspire you to be more caring? This time of year it is so easy to get caught up in the stress of shopping, the stress of having just the right present or the right treat plate, the stress of outdoing the Facebook post of what your friend's elf has been doing, the stress of just trying to keep it all together. When the stress gets to be too much, stop, take a deep breath, and just notice. Notice and appreciate the small, simple things. Notice and nurture the relationships that matter. Notice the caring and allow it to be contagious.

The Empty Pew

Yesterday I was the person who saved a pew that remained empty. The people that I had saved the pew for never came. I'm not sure of the reason for their absence; maybe they were distracted by work, or watching football or maybe they just didn't want to come. I do know that as I sat on the stand and watched eagerly for them to arrive I was saddened when I came to the realization that they weren't coming. I was sad that they missed out on the opportunity to be spiritually fed. Yesterday's sermon was a completely Christ-centered sermon and was very uplifting. I was sad that wordly things, important as they may have seemed, took precedence over spiritual things. I was sad because I truly missed them not being at church with me.

It's Winter and Static Happens

During the winter our house becomes a lesson in static electricity. Some of us have multiple opportunities a day to learn about static charges and shocking. When the kids were little Dave used to put on fleece socks and scuff his feet along the ground. He would then chase the kids around the house with them squealing "Not the shocker socks" and giggling the whole way. They are too old now to appreciate that game. Sad that they have to grow up.

Unfortunately I seem to be the one who carries the biggest charge. Go figure, the smallest one in the house is the one who can create the biggest spark. I can even generate static while walking through the grocery store and shock myself anytime I try to open one of the freezer doors. Sometimes the static is so bad that I shock myself just pushing the cart. And it doesn't matter how cold it is while I am gassing up my car, I will not get back in the car to wait while the car fills. I would be one of those people who blows up the gas station with a single spark (The MythBusters said that this could actually happen).

At home it is so bad that I have to ground myself before I touch the light switch plate or the volume control on the sound bar (I've shorted it out a couple of times, but turning it off and letting it rest resets it). Before giving Dave a kiss I have to touch his arm or cheek because trying to kiss him without grounding is very painful. We give literal meaning to setting off sparks with a kiss. We look pretty funny as we slowly, carefully move in for a kiss but have to touch a cheek or hand before lips actually touch. We've tried adding humidity to the house, but to no avail. I'm still the shocker lady.

Thinking about dry winter air and static electricity makes me wonder if I'll still have this problem when I move to South Carolina. More points for Charleston if it means no shocking each other through the winter season.

Something Was Lost in Re-telling

The other night Dave had to take Carson to the urgent care. Carson had a spider bite or perhaps beginning of a skin infection on his forearm, whatever it was it needed to be looked at since the redness and swelling was getting worse. After Dave's episode at Carson's MRI, I usually don't ask him to take the kids to the doctor, but I had something else going on so Dave was up.

When the boys got home they walked in the door chuckling and shared how the visit went. It went something like this...

The doctor was trying to make small talk during the examination so he asked Carson what he his future career plans were. Carson said he wanted to be an architect. The doctor then asked if Carson was smart. Carson said "Yeah, I'm pretty smart." Then the doctor asked what Carson's GPA was and Carson said "Not that smart." The doctor then said "Well what is it?" Carson then shared his less-than-smart GPA to which the doctor said "Yeah, you're dumb."

So here's the kicker...the boys were totally laughing during the re-telling. I laughed because they were laughing but on further reflection of the conversation I became a little irritated. First, I couldn't believe that an urgent care doctor was so nosy about Carson's GPA. Why not make small talk about something else? Furthermore, where does the doctor get off telling Carson he is dumb? He has no connection to Carson, doesn't know his situation or that he really is smart kid. Totally unprofessional in my opinion.

But since Carson came home laughing about it and still laughs about it now (as well as agreeing with the doctor that his GPA is dumb), I guess I will let it go. I won't drop the doctor a little note letting him know that Carson's grandpa is the one who signs his paychecks. There must have been something lost in the re-telling.

Brrr, It's Dang Cold Outside

We are currently in the middle of an Artic blast. It feels like I picture it must feel like in the Yukon during "early" winter (early winter is a term my niece Charlotte coined to describe fall in Minnesota). I think early winter in the Yukon is probably even colder than early winter in Minnesota. Anyway, the lows are in the single digits and the high for today is supposed to be 12. As if the temperatures weren't cold enough, we now have strong winds blowing that drive the wind chill temperatures down to the negative double digits. That is dang cold. Too dang cold to be outside for running so that means I have to run on the treadmill. Blech.

About the only time I am warm all day is an hour before bedtime and when I am sleeping.  During those times my body turns into a super-charged furnace. Seriously it feels like I am on fire. Dave and the kids (well really just Carson) want to sit with me on the cuddle couch so they can get warmed, but it just gets too hot and somebody has to move. I usually flinch first and move. Bedtime is the worst because I want to turn the heat down to 61 or 62 so I can sleep comfortably, but apparently that is too cold for the kids. Dave doesn't really notice because, well, he sleeps with his own personal super-charged furnace, but the kids have informed me that I am trying to freeze them. Matter of fact, Katelyn said the other night she slept in running tights, wool socks, a shirt, footie pajamas, had her fuzzy blanket and quilt pulled up around her ears and she was still cold. That's no good. We are trying to find a happy compromise between the 61-62 I would like the thermostat set at and the 71 the kids would prefer. The problem is that they are stinky little buggers and will get up and turn up the thermostat after I have gone to bed.

The good news is that this round of Artic air is supposed to be replaced by a little warmer air by the middle of the week next week. The bad news is that it will still be cold enough for the moisture that rolls in with the warmer air will roll in as snow. But at least I can run outside in the snow. That makes me happy.

I'm Probably Doing It Wrong, Again

I said before that parenting young adults and older teen-agers is a whole new ball game, right? I mean, you can't really send a 20-year old to time out or put a 17-year old in his room when we all need a break. They would just laugh and scoff at those attempts. And besides that, they have lived with you long enough to know exactly what you care about, how to push your buttons and what words to say to push you right to the edge. And when you are hanging over the cliff, clinging desperately to the edge, instead of apologizing for their role in putting you there they'll see your struggle and then stomp on your fingers trying to finish off what they started. They want to see you fall into that pit of anger and frustration because seeing you there is much easier than dealing with the real issues. And quite honestly, even though you are the adult and know exactly what they are doing, it is really dang hard not to go directly to that pit. It is hard to remain loving, kind, patient and understanding when you know that their actions and words are intentional, maybe immature, but intentional nonetheless. I suppose the hurtful words and actions are inevitable and part of the process of separating from parents. But I'm not going to lie, it pretty much sucks when we are going through the process.

Right now it is Carson who has decided to push. First it was about church. He hates. Everyone is stupid. He wants to go somewhere else. Now it wrestling. He doesn't want us to come to his matches. He says he doesn't like us there. He says he feels to much pressure to please.  He says he can't focus on his performance when he knows we are in the stands watching. He does want to wrestle, he just doesn't want us there to see him wrestle. The boy really does know how to pick some of the most sensitive, important issues and attack them. I mean, church and wrestling have been a big part of his entire life, heck a big part of our family life.

So what to do? Well, honestly, I am not sure and I don't think there are any right answers here. First, with church, I told him that as long as he is in high school he must attend church with us. Once he graduates, he can look for something different. I told him I would even attend other churches with him as he is searching. The only request that I had was that he conduct his search prayerfully so that he would know God's will for him. For wrestling, we are going to honor his request and not attend his matches. We'll wait for an invitation to come back. I hope his season goes as he has planned.

I wish we had a crystal ball to see if what we have decided to do is the right decision. Seriously, this is hard and I wish that I knew 100% that we are doing it right and that all will turn out well.

Impossible

This post has been in my "drafts" for over a year. I'm not sure why I left it there but I'm publishing it today. 

"Nothing is impossible. The word itself says: I'm possible"

I read that phrase as I was leaving a 2nd grade classroom. It reminded me of the quote that was on the bottom of a district newsletter. The quote was about courage and I'm going to have to paraphrase.

Courage is being afraid to get on the horse, but saddling up and getting on anyway--John Wayne

Both of these quotes got me to thinking about being a mother. Being a mother takes courage, and even though in my Mother's Day blog I wondered if I had made an impact in my children's life (maybe some of you mothers of teen-agers can empathize with me here and will understand what I mean), I know that I have. Sometimes the impact was good, and then other times the impact will give my children an opportunity to make a notation in their own "What Not To Do" parenting book.

In my work and calling at church I see courageous mothers all around me.

There is the mother who advocates for her special needs child and researches all available programs to make sure her son isn't left behind.

There is the mother who takes on the "establishment" of public education and refuses to let them tell her what is best for her child.

There is the mother who cares for her son with cancer all while trying to work, keep up the house, and care for her other children.

There is the mother who continues her education so she can provide a better life for her children.

There is the mother who is a college graduate who made the decision to stay at home with her children. She doesn't listen to those who ask "Why do you want to waste all of that time and education by staying at home?"

There is the mother of teen-agers who is brave enough to let her children exercise their agency, even when she can see where the choices might lead.

There is the mother of two small boys who keeps things going on the homefront while her husband is deployed to Libya.

There is the mother who refuses to let the abuses she suffered as a child define how she will parent her children. She tries every day to learn how to be loving and nurturing even though those things do not come naturally to her.

There is the mother who is not afraid to apologize to her child when she realizes that she jumped to conclusions, disciplined without hearing the whole story and really messed up.

Those are just a few examples of courageous mothers. I know there are so many more courageous mothers out there. But there is a difference between being courageous and being a superhero. A courageos mother recognizes that she is not going to get it right every time. She is willing to try even though she knows it is going to be extraordinarily hard. A courageous mother recognizes that she doesn't parent in a vacuum and is glad for the help, Godly help and humanly help. A superhero gets it right every time and doesn't think anything is hard or scary. A superhero doesn't ask for help because s/he believes s/he can do it all on her/his own.

A superhero is a fictional character. Mothers are very real.

I'm proud to be a mom and I don't want a cape.

28 "Thankful For's"

Since today is Thanksgiving and I haven't spent every day this month sharing my "thankful for's" on Facebook, I'm doing another list post. These are 28 things I am thankful for:

1. I am thankful for my husband's patient, caring spirit; his work ethic; his goofiness; and his daily display of love and affection towards me and our children. He is the best.
2. I am thankful that I can still drink milk. Seriously. I don't know what I will do if I develop a dairy intolerance or allergy.
3. I am thankful that my husband likes to travel with me.
4. I am thankful for my running buddies, Josie included.
5. I am thankful to have a job that allows me to be home when my kids and husband are home.
6. I am thankful for every opportunity that I have been given to grow closer to my Father in Heaven...even the really crappy and hard opportunities.
7. I am thankful for awesome nieces and nephews. I love when our families get together and build memories.
8. I am thankful for grandparents and grandparents-in-law. I miss the ones who are gone, but so grateful to still have three alive.
9. I am thankful that I have a car with heated seats.
10. I am thankful for friends who will take the time to click over from Facebook to read this post.
11. I am thankful for my calling at church. Being ward chorister and ward music chair is the best!
12. I am thankful for modern medicine and the comforts it brings to my life.
13. I am thankful for two really great kids. They make me smile, if not laugh, almost every day.
14. I am thankful to work with positive, supportive colleagues.
15. I am thankful to know that God loves me and has blessed me with certain talents and traits. I try to honor that love and gift by using my talents to serve others.
16. I am thankful for good health.
17. I am thankful that Katelyn has the opportunity to serve a mission and the learning and growth that will most certainly occur over the next 18 months.
18. I am thankful that Katelyn works with a great group of young adults at the Melting Pot.
19. I am thankful to my friend Lindsay Hubble who is friends with the owners of the Melting Pot  was willing to put in a good word for Katelyn.
20. I am thankful that this year is going so much better for Carson due to his hard work and conscientious effort at turning in all school assignments.
21. I am thankful for my siblings. When we are all together there is never a dull moment.
22. I am thankful for my parents and their confidence in my abilities, even when I might doubt myself.
23. I am thankful for my in-laws who have always treated me as one of their own children.
24. I am thankful for this quote from President Uchtdorf: "Doubt your doubts before you doubt your faith."
25. I am thankful for dark chocolate and that I can eat one square every day.
26. I am thankful to know that I don't have to worry about having enough food, a warm place to sleep, or other necessities.
27. I am thankful for the opportunities that I have had to travel, especially to the warm, sunny locations.
28. I am thankful to know that no matter what drama, chaos, or upheaval I may have seen or dealt with during the day, I can go home to my safe, quiet loving home. There I am able to recharge and prepare to face whatever the next day brings.

25 Random Things You May Not Know About Me

1. I can spontaneously break out into song if a certain word or phrase reminds me of a line in a song.
2. I used to think Jim Croce was saying "Bad, bad Leroy Brown. Baddest man in the whole downtown."
3. The above mentioned song isn't the only one that I have misheard words. Sometimes what I hear and think the song says gives people an opportunity to laugh at my folly.
4. Sometimes I let the fear of failure interfere with the possibility of success.
5. I would like to run for state representative but...see number 4.
6. I developed most of these annoying food allergies after I turned 35.
7. I once spent all of Christmas day throwing up because I had accidently ingested a very large swallow of kerosene.
8. Sometimes I still dream of being a doctor.
9. It took me about a solid year of running before I really began to enjoy it.
10. Running is still mostly a social activity for me.
11. I have vowed never to buy anything at Pottery Barn because of the very rude service and treatment I received over 10 years ago.
12. My best friends from high school are now mostly just Facebook and Christmas card friends. This makes me sad.
13. I knew after dating Dave for 3 weeks, he was the man I was going to marry. I think he knew it too. That freaked both of us out just a little bit.
14. I am not a healthy food-only consumer. I find great pleasure in Cheetos, Dr. Pepper and McDonald's French fries...but those types of things are consumed very sparingly.
15. I do eat a square of dark chocolate every day. I may have an addiction.
16. I enjoy reading. I particularly enjoy murder mystery, spy/espionage, and non-fiction.
17. I cannot draw to save my life. Really. This is not an exaggeration.
18. I also am not crafty. I've tried. It is just not my thing.
19. I am typing this list when I really should be getting ready for work.
20. Sometimes I procrastinate important things. I was really bad about procrastinating when I was in college.
21. I get super frustrated and judgy when parents are reckless and irresponsible with their children. For example, speeding down the street, talking on a cell phone, and child unrestrained. Or not providing the child's school with any working phone numbers or emergency contact information.
22. I wanted to have four children.
23. I make an intentional effort to learn the names of the children at the school where I work and do my best to address them by name. My children say this is weird.
24. I apparently am fashion-challenged. The other day my daughter told me that wearing leggings, long sweater and boots was an appropriate outfit for middle school girls, not me.
25. And last, but not least...I would love to own and operate a BBQ joint with good old-fashioned Southern offerings: BBQ ribs, corn bread, collard greens and grits.

Perfectly Boring and Happy

I've struggled a bit with blogging lately. Mostly this is due because I have been trying to find new and fresh things to blog about. But yesterday I realized that it is hard to keep the blog new, fresh, and exciting when my life is actually perfectly boring. I mean my life is pretty much go to work Monday through Friday, pay bills, run errands, do laundry, cook dinners. Saturday is filled with not much of anything (although I really should do a better job of cleaning the house on Saturday's, but truth be told, cleaning is one of my least favorite things to do and I have a rather high clutter tolerance) and then Sunday is church.

My kids are almost grown and out of the house. They have learned to make wise decisions most of the time so I have no more "jelly bean up the nose" or "five-legged horse" stories to share. They have never created nor been involved in a lot of drama so I don't have stories to share about that. And frankly, I am grateful that we have managed to avoid friend drama because even though it might make for good blog stories, it would have been not awesome to go through. But there will be some new blog material as each child heads out on their own.  Katelyn will soon leave for her 18 months mission in Tempe, Arizona and I'll share her experiences on my blog. And Carson will be going to college somewhere so there might be a few stories to share about his college experience, but if he goes to NIC there may not be as many stories as if he were going somewhere far away.

I don't have any super exciting stories to share full of name-dropping. Although last Saturday I did have a chance to have a 15 minute one-on-one meeting with Senator Padden, a state senator representing our legislative district in Olympia. I did name drop in that meeting because one of my friend's sits on the Senator's education council and I would like an opportunity to be on that council when my friend steps down. That's about as exciting as it gets, folks.

Dave and I aren't super social. As I think back across the years of our marriage we never have been the kind of couple who would be out with other couples every weekend or taking trips together. We both have our individual friends that we do things with but we don't have any couple friends. Some of this is due to the self-imposed criteria that couples must meet in order to be couple friends. First, the age spread cannot be more than 5 years younger than us and no more than 10 years older. Second, it would be helpful if there child situation is similar to ours (almost grown, number of children isn't important). Third, the couple must be able to tolerate quirky, sometimes completely goofy character traits combined with some awkward social interactions due to failed delivery of intended message. Finally, similar interests are important so we have things to do together and talk about. There are some exemptions to the criteria, well one exemption really. Family members do not have meet the criteria in order for us to hang out. And really the kid thing isn't such a huge deal since Dave and I both enjoy children very much, but I have noticed that couples who have younger children are just busier with the kid things in life & tend to hang out with others who are involved in the same kid things.

As the realization of my boring reality came to me yesterday, I also realized that I am completely happy. I am happy that my children are happy. I am happy with the friends I do have and the social interactions I have with them. I am happy with the at-work social connections that I have. I am happy that my days are pretty much filled with the same things day in and day out. I am just plain happy. It is nice to finally feel content with perfectly boring.

Quips from Katelyn and Carson

Katelyn and I were talking yesterday about her friends and their fear of Dave. At the conclusion of the conversation...
-Katelyn: I told them my dad isn't that scary. They should really be afraid of my mom. She's feisty.


Carson's feelings after reading my post about service...
-Carson: Mom, you can't really call it service. I'm pretty much forced to go. I should just pull on an orange jumpsuit the next time.


And finally, Carson's quip after I told him I had booked our hotel at Venice Beach instead of in Santa Monica...
-Carson: Well, at least we'll probably have some nice views.

He swears he was talking about the ocean, but hmmm, I'm not so sure.

Grateful for Service

Carson has to write a persuasive essay about service. The article that he is using says that service is complicated. I'm not exactly sure what his own point of view is; however, if I had to base it off of his attitude while performing service I would say he is against it. He generally has a poor attitude during service projects, particularly if it involves manual labor or seems to interrupt something he would rather be doing. I mostly hear "this is dumb" and watch him do as little as possible. Maybe that is a typical teen-age boy attitude, but I wish he would rise above that typical stereotype.

I am grateful for the opportunity to serve. Through serving I am able to give back and express my thanks to my Heavenly Father, who has given me so much. Long, long ago He showed me how serving others can literally save a life--and it was my life He saved. I would like to share more, but I have tried to type the story up several different times and in several different ways and none of them seem quite right. Just know that there was a time when I was quite despondent on a particular day and on that day I spent my day losing myself in the service of others. Slowly the cloud of despair lifted and for that day, I was able steady myself and move forward.

I don't want to discount the very real illness of depression that often requires medical intervention to treat but for me, on that day, my despair was self-inflicted because of my inward, selfish focus. As I became focused on serving others and forgetting about myself I was able to find the light again. Finding the light saved my life; I had contemplated how to end it that very morning.

I am in much healthier place emotionally, but it took me several years to get here. And yes, there are still moments when I feel despondent and dark. But I have learned that along with a good long run and debriefing with my colleague (school counselor), serving others will help lift me out of the darkness. Selfish? Maybe if I was seeking out recognition for the service, but I don't. I just know that  Heavenly Father will bless me if I serve others.

I guess maybe the article Carson is referencing is right...service can be complicated, nevertheless I am grateful for the opportunities I have to serve others.

My Current Favorite "Go-to" Crockpot Dinner

Crockpot Chicken Fajitas



So crockpot dinners are not usually a favorite with my family. They don't like how the vegetables turn mushy and sometimes the meat gets dry. However, I have made this dinner several times now and so far, no complaints. And a super bonus is that I can get another night's meal out of the leftovers.

I believe that I got the basics of the recipe off of something I saw on Facebook and then altered it to suit our tastes. Here is the recipe I currently use:

1/2 each red, yellow, and orange pepper, sliced
1/2 onion, sliced
1 can diced green chiles
4 chicken breasts
1 tbsp. chili powder
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tbsp. minced garlic
salt and pepper

Layer peppers on bottom of crock-pot then add onions. Place chicken on top of onions and peppers. Pour can of chiles on top of chicken. Sprinkle spices on top of all. Cover and cook on low for 5 hours. 30 minutes prior to serving, shred chicken in the pot and stir ingredients together.

*We don't actually use this as fajita filling; my family prefers to eat it over corn chips with sour cream, salsa and cheese.

And two nights later we will have this for dinner:

Fajita Rice Casserole
Use the left-overs from the crockpot fajitas. Add cooked rice, one can of black beans, and 1/2 cup sour cream. Saute 1/2 red pepper and add to mixture. Place all in a casserole dish, sprinkle shredded cheese over the top of casserole and bake in a 350 degree oven for 30 minutes.

Veterans' Day Reflection on the Vietnam War

Yesterday was Veteran's Day and a day off from work. I spent it much like I spend other days off of work...running errands, doing laundry, catching up on yard work, etc. I also spent some time on Facebook looking at friends' posts thanking veterans and passing along posters honoring veterans.

But that wasn't all I did. I also spent a large portion of my afternoon with Carson watching a documentary on the Vietnam War. The documentary was put together using actual footage from the war...no reenactments. Soldiers' memories were shared either through their own voice or with a voice over. Family members were also interviewed and shared their memories of that time. I thought that of all the documentaries I have seen produced by the History Channel, this one seemed to be the most neutral politically-speaking. Although I am not sure that it is possible to produce a completely politically-neutral piece about the Vietnam War.

At the conclusion of the documentary I had these thoughts:

• I now understand why these men and women came back so broken from Vietnam. The definition of success changed from how much territory was won (a definition that had been used in both world wars) to how many people were destroyed. Matter of fact, that is what their missions were called "search and destroy" and a high body count was the measure of success. Those who fought in Vietnam had no choice but to totally dehumanize everyone and thing, otherwise there would have been no way they could have carried out their orders. Unfortunately, this also meant that many times all Vietnamese were viewed as the enemy and not to be trusted. If they weren't trusted, they should be destroyed. What a destructive mind-set for the human psyche and soul.

• The Vietnam War initially was not about spreading American ideals or imperialism. It was about protecting a free people who couldn't protect themselves from the oppressive, destructive communist regime that was trying to take over their country. As Americans we will always have a responsibility to protect those who cannot protect themselves. However, careful consideration must be given to continuing in the engagement when the majority of those we are called to protect would just as soon aid the enemy as they would you. In Vietnam it appeared that the majority of the Vietnamese people who lived in the villages lived in such fear of the VC, that for pure self-preservation they agreed to aid and abet the enemy, thus setting up the United States for failure no matter what we did. When it became apparent that Vietnamese citizens were not able to see past their immediate self-preservation and look forward to the future free of the communist regime, the United States should have pulled out. But we didn't leave and the cost in American lives was high.

• I am in awe of those soldiers (and when I say soldiers I mean all those who serve in the armed forces) who followed orders and went when they were called. I am grateful that my father-in-law and uncle-in-law, who were serving at this time, were kept safe. I am not sure how or why my dad wasn't drafted, but I'm glad he wasn't. I was born in 1971 and since the last troops didn't leave until 1973, if he had been drafted there is a chance that he might not have come home to raise me.

• I also do not judge those who, when late in the war, burned their draft cards. It seems that by time the draft occurred it should have been apparent that our initial mission had failed and we were only sending soldiers over because we were unwilling to admit defeat. I cannot be sure, but I think I might have been one of those ones out protesting the war. But then again, maybe not. I did not participate in protestations when the US went into Iraq and Afghanistan. And I'm not sure how you  protest military action without it being a slap in the face to those military members who follow orders and go where they are sent.

I'm sure there are many things that I do not understand about the US involvement in Vietnam. And I am sure I have oversimplified many things. I can't be certain that I have expressed my thoughts in the best way, but they are my thoughts and writing them down gives me a record and something to review and reflect on at a later time.

And The Winner Is....

KATELYN for "Weirdest Migraine Aura in Our Family"

Migraines are a familial trait on my side. From me our kids got the "Whiting" chin, the ability to roll their tongue into a taco, blue eyes and migraines. Yay for DNA.

For Carson and me, our migraines are proceeded by a visual aura almost 100% of  the time. We know that as soon as those wavy lines appear we need to treat immediately with 800 mg of ibuprofen and a dark, quiet room. After a 5 hour nap the headache has usually subsided.

Unfortunately for Katelyn she doesn't always get an aura so her headache just gets gradually worse and before she knows it, she has a full-blown  migraine that isn't easily knocked back. Thursday's headache was just that with a few added twists.

Katelyn said she woke up Thursday morning and wasn't up for long when she noticed that she was getting a dull, throbbing ache in her head. She took some ibuprofen and headed off to her morning job (watching 2 young boys & helping them get off to school). By time she got home the headache was a little worse so she went back to bed. I came home for lunch and tried to talk to her, but she was out like a light. She was still asleep when I got home from work at 3:45.

A couple of hours later and I'm at a dinner meeting when I get this text...
-Is normal to have lost my sense of taste?
-Yes, that could happen when you have a migraine.
-Ok because I can't taste anything.
-Well, if it is still a problem tomorrow, I'll take you to the doctor.
-Ok.


Friday morning (now 24 hours after the start of the migraine), I'm on my way to work and Katelyn is still in bed. I make the suggestion that she get up sooner rather than later so she can see if she is still having trouble tasting. I don't hear from her until about 9:30 or 10. She texts me to say that she still can't taste anything. I text her back the number for the doctor & tell her to make an appointment.

I come home for lunch and to prepare to take her to the doctor. I ask her how things are going. She said she still has a little headache, but it feels better. What about the sense of taste? She's not sure so we test it by having her drink about a tablespoon of straight lemon juice. Nothing. Absolutely no taste. So off to the doctor we go.

All of the neurological tests check out OK at the doctor's office. The doctor does order a MRI, but since Katelyn has to work Friday night the doctor said we could do the MRI on Monday. The doctor orders a Toradol injection for Katelyn & sends us on our way with the caveat that if the symptoms change or the headache gets worse Katelyn is supposed to go straight to the ER.

I drop Katelyn off at work and don't expect to hear from her until it is time to pick her up at about 11:30 p.m. Sometime around 7 p.m. I get this text...
-Um, I have a lisp.
-A lisp?
-Yeah, it just started.
-Well that's interesting. Talk with your manager, tell her what's going on & see when you can leave.
-Ok. We are in the middle of the dinner rush so I can't leave now.
-Text me when you can.

An hour and a half later she texts to say that she can go. So I pick her up and take her to the emergency room. Now, say what you will about Deaconess Hospital, but they treated us great while we were there. We got right in and Katelyn was seen pretty promptly. It was a refreshing change when compared to the time I took Carson to Sacred Heart for a bad migraine.

Anyway, she got some IV medication for her headache (Benadryl, Reglan and Decadron) and a MRI. The meds cleared up the headache and the MRI came back normal so she was discharged. And in almost remarkable time, I think. We got to leave around midnight. Three hours in the ER on a Friday night?! Remarkable.

So the lessons Katelyn learned:

• As soon as she notices a headache, she should treat it like it will turn into a migraine. That means she should take her Maxalt immediately and go straight to bed.
• Loss of taste, a lisp, and vision that appears to be looking through a fish eye lens are her auras. If she notices any of those things, even if she doesn't have a headache, she should take her migraine medication immediately.

An Almost Perfect Blend

Apparently, unbeknownst to us, writers in Hollywood has taken notice of me and Dave. They have taken notes on our personalities, our quirks, and our family dynamics. They have taken those observations and combined them into one fantastically fabulous character that is an almost perfect blend of me and Dave.

Meet....

Beverly Goldberg

Ok, so Hollywood really hasn't taken some special interest in us. Beverly Goldberg is most likely a caricature of the real-life mother to Adam Goldberg, the creator/writer of the ABC comedy, The Goldbergs. Nevertheless our family loves to watch the show and watch for the similarities between Beverly, Dave and me.

It is hilarious to hear the kids say one minute "Oh, that's just like you, Mom" while I'm just nodding my head in agreement. And then the next minute they are saying "Oh, that's totally Dad" and Dave is shaking his head "NO, NO way!" and we are all laughing hysterically and choking out "Oh yes, yes, that is totally you!"

What parts of Beverly are me? Oh, the mother heart that wants to snuggle up with her kids even though they are both mostly beyond consenting to snuggle. And I do sometimes "mix in" when I think I can help, although this part could go either way between Dave or me. Bev's phrase "I have failed as a mother" may be a phrase that I have used a time or two in some fit of theatrics.

Dave is a little sensitive to the fact that there are parts of Beverly's personality we associate with him. But he really can't argue that he never told the kids they couldn't eat their Halloween candy until it had been thoroughly examined (although, Bev said no Halloween candy until it had been x-rayed at the hospital). And the kids attribute Beverly's mama-bear (read, over-protective) qualities more to Dave than to me.

So somehow without even trying, Hollywood created a perfect hybrid of Dave and me. It is a hoot to watch. If you haven't had a chance to catch and episode of The Goldbergs, you should try. The show is on Tuesday nights on ABC at 9 p.m. Pacific.

Warning: There are a lot of campy 80's references and the dad does walk around in a dress shirt and his tighty-whities when he is at home. There are also a few swear words that crop in here and there (a$$ is the worst one I have heard). But for the most part, pretty darn funny show and appropriate for ages 12+ .

Grateful to Live with Witty, Goofy People

It's November and seems like an appropriate time to express, once again, how grateful I am for my little family. This time I want to acknowledge what a blessing it is to live with funny, witty, and goofy people.

When I married Dave I didn't realize how goofy he actually is. Oh, there were glimpses here and there along the way, but when we had children his true, full-on goofy nature was revealed. Sometimes he is funny on purpose, but other times his goofiness is completely by accident and that makes it even funnier. What a joy it has been to be married to this man for the last 23 years. A good belly laugh at least once a day is almost guaranteed living with this dude.

Fortunately he has passed this goofy, witty trait onto his children. Carson is a bit more likely to share this side of his personality with us, while Katelyn likes to save her humor mostly for her friends. But each of them has, on more than one occasion, provided the family some silly remark that has led to a good chuckle.

My life is so blessed and full because of Dave, Katelyn, and Carson and their zany senses of humor. Some research has shown that living with laughter and happiness keeps you healthier and living longer. I am picturing a long, happy, healthy life for all of us.

Stay tuned for more gratitude posts through this month of November.

Learning to Live with Open Hands

I've debated for the last few days on whether to post this or not. It is a personal issue that I would have written in my private journal if only I knew where that journal was. The thoughts about needing to publish this wouldn't leave my mind. So as you can see, I decided to publish it, maybe there is a message here someone is supposed to read.

I have several different notes from ladies in my ward who have dropped me a line to let me know they admire my faith, strength and testimony. I have held onto these notes for a long time to read during those times when I don't feel so strong. And then the other day I received a Facebook message from a woman who knew me in my youth. She wrote:

I knew you in your youth and I saw your struggles. I didn't know how you could ever make it with so much to swim against. I totally underestimated the Whiting Tenacity! It was a beautiful thing to see you fight against the odds and use that tenacity to build. Much of it you did alone.

Again, a message I will save to refer back to when I am struggling. But here's the problem I have with these notes and message, I don't view what I have done as particularly out of the ordinary. I think I have done and lived how anyone would. I'm really not sure that I deserve any sort of special praise or recognition.

I was relaying these feelings to a colleague (who happens to be a counselor) after I received the Facebook message. He told me I needed to let go, to open my hands and heart, and receive the goodness of God. I told him I wasn't ungrateful for the messages and that after each note I did thank God for the note because it came just at a time when I needed to hear words of encouragement. But I still couldn't identify what it was about my life that was extraordinary, that inspired these ladies. Again, my friend said to open my hands and receive the blessing that these notes were. He said it didn't matter whether I felt like I deserved the praise or not, I just needed to receive it.

I spent the rest of the day and night thinking about our conversation. Thinking about what my friend had said about not feeling like I deserve the recognition. He was right, I did feel like I didn't deserve the recognition and I felt that way because what if I was a fraud? What if I had somehow portrayed my life to be harder than it actually was/is?

The next thought that came to me was "why would I think I was a fraud?" This took some soul-searching and dredging up some painful memories. But the reality of it is that in my childhood I heard some pretty hurtful things. Words were said that created a lot of self-doubt. At one time I was even told "No one will believe a little sh*% like you."

As I was thinking about those hurtful things of my childhood, the words to one of my favorite hymns came to my mind:

Stript, wounded, beaten nigh to death,

I found him by the highway side.

I roused his pulse, brought back his breath,

Revived his spirit, and supplied

Wine, oil, refreshment--he was healed.

I had myself a wound concealed,

But from that hour forgot the smart,

And peace bound up my broken heart.

"I had myself a wound concealed,...And peace bound up my broken heart." Those two lines echoed in my head for quite awhile until I realized what God was saying to me. He was saying "forget those words from your childhood. Let my Son heal your broken heart."

My friend's counsel. The words from that hymn. Knowing God loves me. All of those things combined just a the right moment and helped me to let go and live with my hands open...open to receive more of God's love and blessings.

Carson Strikes Again

This teen-age boy of mine...sometimes I don't even know what to say. In those moments all I can do is shake my head. Last night's conversation presents a "shake my head" moment.

-Carson: Why is it you can walk up behind a guy & rub his stomach, no big deal. But if you try to do that to a girl
-I interrupt and say "You're going to get punched"
-Carson: Yeah, why is that?
-Me: Boundaries, son. You are breaking all kinds of boundaries when you try to do that.
-David now enters the conversation with this gem: You can only rub pregnant bellies.
-Me: NO! You can't go around rubbing pregnant bellies.
-David: Why not? They're all swollen and rubbable.
-Me: You can't because it is part of the woman's body. She gets to say who touches her. It would be like going up to a pregnant lady and asking to rub her breasts because they are swollen and rubbable due to her pregnancy.
-Carson: So. I would want to rub those, too.

Oh boy.

Fortunately Carson does have a good grip on boundaries and only says those kinds of things to get me all stirred up; although it was Dave who was saying, "NO! NO! NO!" at the end of this conversation. Serves Dave right for even suggesting that somehow boundaries don't apply to pregnant bellies.

A Good Day for a Run

Yesterday afternoon turned out to be almost perfect running weather for a half-marathon. The morning started gray and foggy, but by time the starting siren sounded at 2 p.m. the fog had lifted and the sun was gently warming the runners below. The sun caught the golden hues of the leaves on the trees and made for a spectacular backdrop for the 13.1 miles. There was just enough breeze to make one feel alive and invigorated but not so strong that one would be cursing the wind and finding other runners to tuck behind. The thermometer read 52 degrees when we started, right there in that ideal temperature range for running. All those factors, plus a good training program, set me up for a pretty good race.

I decided to change things up a bit and start in the front of the race pack; I usually prefer to remain anonymous at the back of the pack. However, this was a small field of runners so I thought what the heck, let's throw caution to the wind, and start towards the front. It was an OK strategy, but I did find that I went out a little faster than I usually do. I tried to settle into a sustainable pace by mile 2, but had trouble doing that. But the hilly course forced my body to find a pace that I could keep for the next 11.1 miles.

I usually have my training partner by my side during our races and we keep each other honest with our pacing; however, she has been injured and since coming back from her injury she has been a lot slower so this race I was on my own. I tried to stay with another friend, but she was having an amazing race and since I hadn't trained with her since the summer, I couldn't keep her pace. It was frustrating to realize that training long runs with a slower training partner had taken a toll on my running. I had hoped that I would have been able to maintain my speed through tough speed work work-outs, but it wasn't enough.

But since I was changing things up a bit this race I decided to do something that I have rarely done and that was to use other runners to my advantage when I needed to. Somewhere around mile 5, two guys passed me just before hitting an uphill section. I let them go by me and then stayed on their shoulder for just a bit. I passed them back about 2/3 of the way up the hill. They employed my technique and let me drag them up the rest of the hill. They let me keep the pace down the hill onto a flat section. I slowed a bit so they could pass me back--I wasn't willing to do all of the work--and let them keep the pace for the next mile. It was a pretty good strategy as I was able to keep an 8:15 pace without much effort as I was behind them. We hit another grade between mile 6 and 7 and I passed them again. This time they couldn't keep up so they let me go. I found another guy to run with until we hit a hill and then I was the one who couldn't keep the pace so I had to let him go.

 By this time I was struggling and I took a few short walk breaks. Finally I hit the last turn around point and only had a 5k left. I kept telling myself there is no walking in a 5k so I just gutted it out. I did have some extra motivation that kept me going those last 3 miles. I was bound and determined not to lose my spot in the Top 15 women. I was pretty sure that I was 12 or 13 at the last turn around, but there was a lady who had closed a lot of distance on me during my little walk breaks. So even though my stomach was about ready to drop a bomb, I just kept running. I was pretty strong on the last couple of hills and used the downhill sections to my benefit.

With about a 3/4 miles to go I noticed a lady who had been pretty far ahead of me the whole race had probably bonked and was now walk/running. Now I was probably about 400 yards behind her. I don't know that I consciously ran any faster, but with about 100 yards to go she was only about 20 feet in front of me. But here is where an interesting thing happened. I suddenly felt bad about the thought of passing her. I mean I was seriously debating with myself about whether I should pass her or not. If I didn't have the other lady totally bearing down on me I'm not sure what I would have done. However, I wanted 1) get a PR and it was going to be close and 2) not to let anyone pass me with 80 yards left--that's why I done all of that speed work. So I found a faster gear, passed the lady, and finished with a PR. 1:57:23.

Am I satisfied with the results? Well, who could be disappointed with a PR? I'm still not as fast as I would like to be. I would like to by about 1:45 to 1:50. I know that in order to get there I may have to train more with my friend who had a fabulous race (and is my age) and less with my friend is slowing (she is 19 years older than me). Trying to figure out the best transition makes my stomach hurt because no matter how I approach things feelings will be hurt. That sucks.


Oh, and Carson also had a fantastic race day yesterday. He finished his cross-country season with a PR. He ran his 5k in 20:04! He started the season running a 22-minute something; last week he had 21:17. So what a great way to finish the season with beating his previous best time by over a minute.

Carson-isms

I think I might have mentioned on this blog a time or two that Carson has a unique sense of humor and way of looking at the world. Here are a couple of examples from this week:

On seeing the newest little Whiting's picture posted on Facebook (the picture was taken right after little Julie was born & was on the scale)...
-Carson: Why do newborn babies all look like those babies that they pull out of pots in the Harry Potter movie?
-Me: You mean mandrakes?
-Carson: Yeah, mandrakes. Why do all newborn babies look like mandrakes?


On Monday of this week he shared that he had met a girl who had just moved to our area from North Carolina. He has a thing about girls with Southern accents so he was in heaven when he met her and heard her talk. We thought maybe he would ask her to go to the football game with him, but he said he didn't really her know her very well. So last night as he was leaving for the football game Dave and I were asking about her again. Here is a snippet of the conversation:
-Dave: She would probably be the only girl that you would actually call.
-Carson: Yeah, no texting her. I just like hearing her talk.
-Some filler conversation I can't remember.
-Carson as he is walking out the door: But I don't think she is that cute. Man I hope she can cook. (He also has a thing for good Southern red rice & ribs)


Man I'm going to miss his little quips and quirks when he goes away to college next year.

How Do I Help?

This meme showed up on a friend's Facebook timeline the other day. I wanted to click "like" when I saw it because I do agree with the sentiment, but I didn't. I'm not sure why I didn't. Maybe it was because I felt that supporting this sentiment should be more than just a click of a "like" button on Facebook; support of this sentiment should be me moving towards finding solutions to the poverty problem. And that is where I am stuck.

Oh sure, I donate to the local food banks. I donate used clothing, toys, household goods to local community groups. And yes, I donate money to our church's welfare services on a monthly basis. If I have some spare food in my car I will give it to the panhandler on the side of the freeway. I was a volunteer tutor to a foster child who need some help with her school work. But do those things really move our society towards solving the problem of poverty in our country? I don't know. Maybe what I do is like the little boy who saved one starfish at a time...I can't save everyone, but my efforts do matter to the one that I helped at that moment.

However, as I grow older I am wanting to help on a larger scale. So what can I do to be the change in the world that I want to see? On this poverty issue I really don't know. At the school nurse conference I attended last weekend we heard a poverty expert, Donna Beegle, speak on poverty in the United States. She grew up in poverty, dropped out of school after 9th grade, got her GED at age 26 and then went on to get a PhD. You would think that if anyone could help me see some solutions, she would be the one. However, I was seriously disappointed with her presentation, especially since her presentation was based on her book "See Poverty...Be the Difference".

From her I learned a just few things. First, I learned all about what poverty teaches you. I also learned that she has little regard for Ruby Payne, a researcher who addressed the effects of poverty on children and education. And I learned that if you are middle class you just don't get poverty because you look at everything through a middle class lens (Ruby Payne is middle class and that is why this lady dismissed that research done by Payne). So I kept waiting for her to offer me some solutions; solutions that she has come up with because she has lived poverty, worked her way out, and now is an "expert". But all I kept hearing was statistics on the underinsured, the number of hungry children, the dropouts, the marginalized and "can't we do better?"

Yes, I want to do better. But what I heard her say was I really can't because I only see things through a middle-class lens. Any solution I might offer will always be tinted by that lens. She kept telling us to just stop and take time to notice. OK, I'm noticing. Now tell me how to fix the things I notice. And don't tell me to fight for more public policies that address poverty because I don't think that is a good solution. The reason I don't is because those policies are developed by people who are definitely more upper middle-class than I am and if I don't get poverty, they certainly don't get poverty.

So I'm back to the title of my post...how do I help? What solution can I offer to the poverty problem and what part do I play? I don't want more government programs because I don't believe those offer real solutions. The people who wind up paying more in taxes get angry about higher taxes, but often not angry enough to actually get out and do something solving the poverty problem; higher taxes are easier to pay when compared to the time, talents, and effort that would be required to really help address the problem. On the other side are those who are the recipients of the government's help. Some work incredibly hard (like mentioned in the meme at the beginning of this post), but there are others who take complete advantage of the programs set up for their benefit. Those who take advantage of the programs are the ones who spoil it for all.

I wish I had a good ending for this post, but I don't. There are no easy answers; perhaps there aren't even any solutions to poverty. I just want to know the best way to help and feel like I'm making a difference on a larger scale than just a single starfish saved.

Folding Laundry Made Me Misty-eyed

Folding laundry is the pits. It is one of those jobs that you repeat over and over only for it to be completely undone shortly thereafter. It is also a thankless job as no one ever says "Thanks mom (or wife) for making sure I have clean clothes and because you folded them so nicely I have mostly unwrinkled clothes to wear." Washing clothes and folding them is one of those tasks that I  have tried to go on strike about, but um, it hasn't worked out so well during those times. So once a week I begrudgingly spend one evening washing and folding all of the clothing that makes it down to the laundry room.

The latest installment of laundry took me an evening and next morning to get it all done. I was folding laundry in the morning after my run, carefully watching the clock so I could make sure to wake Carson up on time, and out of the blue I got all misty-eyed as I was folding. It was probably because I was carefully folding up one of Carson's shirts, placing it gently in his laundry cube and coming to the realization that no too far into the future I won't have as much laundry to wash and fold.

And that realization caused me to think about other things that I soon won't have to do...no more early-morning wake-up calls to Carson, no more making of M-F school lunches, no more making muffins at least every other week. It is so weird to think about having both kids gone...Katelyn reports to the MTC on February 12th; Carson graduates in June.

Go figure, misty-eyed over realizing my laundry loads will be cut in more than half in just a few months time. Most people would probably be jumping for joy.

Angry Usually Means Something Else

The other night I was having dinner with a group of friends. The conversation turned to kids and they asked how Katelyn did at school her first year. I took a deep breath and said "Well, socially she did great. Academically, well, that was not nearly as successful." The friends were curious about what exactly this meant and as I began to explain, frustration and anger bubbled out. It was kind-of a downer and conversation killer.

Later that night as I was thinking about the conversation I realized that my anger was just a face for some other emotions. First, I'm worried and scared for Katelyn. What will her life look like if college isn't a success for her and she can't find a job? I certainly don't want her to live a life of just barely scraping by, but I feel completely paralyzed in my ability to help.

Second, the anger was just a defense mechanism to try and mask the real failure...me. From the time that I held her in my arms for the first time I wanted to be nothing more than the best mom that I could be. I thought I had done a good job working with Dave to build a safe, loving home that provided structure, a place to safely take risks, somewhere to learn responsibility and accountability. I thought we had given her the tools necessary to be a successful college student. I thought wrong. And realizing that her failure was due mostly in part to my failure as a mother was a crushing blow. I grew up hearing at church that the role of mother was the most important work that a woman could ever do. Raising the next generation to be responsible, contributing adults was a sacred calling and here I was a failure at my most important calling (something I actually felt called to do as opposed to my job as a nurse). Of course I was angry. I was just angry at the wrong person.

While I feel bad about how the conversation with my friends went, I am grateful for the opportunity it gave me to really reflect on what was going on with my emotions. Realizing that the anger and frustration were just covering up the real emotions of worry, fear, and failure was a huge revelation to me. It was actually liberating because I can now the blame from Katelyn and place it on me. It also helped me redefine what success is. Katelyn is much more successful than I will ever be because she is loving, kind, quick to not judge. If we have to build a new house with an apartment for her, well then so be it. I won't let her live a life of hardship just to try and teach her some tough love lesson.

One other thing I realized, I'm completely lacking in faith at times. No matter how much I like to plan and be in charge, all goes according to Heavenly Father's plan. He loves us and He wants us to be happy and successful. He knows Katelyn, her talents, her weaknesses, her dreams and desires. He will lead and guide. Now is my time to just be still and know that He is God.

Sayings I Think About When I Have Nothing Else to Think About

I'm drawn to short, inspirational sayings that give me pause and cause me to think. Over the last few weeks I've come upon a few sayings that have rolled around in my mind and I think about them when I have nothing else to think about.

Here they are:

• "What you focus on expands" read on a blog written by Kristen Armstrong on Runner's World website.
• "Don't always trust what you think" heard on the Dave Ramsey radio show
• "Your name is safe in my house" read this morning on the Segullah blog
• "Doubt your doubts before you doubt your faith" by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf in October 2013 General Conference

I'm grateful for the thoughts and feelings that I have had around these sayings. Each one has caused me to dig deeper and pause in self-reflection to see where I might learn and grow.

20 Years ago on October 4th

My life changed forever once again on that day. It was the day I became a mother. It was the day that we welcomed Katelyn Brooke into our family of two and became a family of three. How is it even possible that 20 years have gone by?

Twenty?!

I remember a few specific things about Katelyn's day of birth. Those things are all things Katelyn has heard before...stories about sending Dave out to brush his teeth while I'm in labor, asking Dave not to scratch/rub my arm because he was pressing too hard, her getting stuck under my tailbone and breaking it. But I'm not sure she has heard what our first thoughts were as we looked down on our ghost-white new baby girl.

First, I was amazed at her beauty and her round little head. That head did not smoosh at all which is probably why my tailbone was broken during her delivery. She only had two small bruises where the doctor had placed the foreceps.

Second, once we made eye contact she smiled and melted my heart right then and there. She had her daddy's dimple and the bluest eyes ever. I remember being so excited to have a little girl and even though I had not been a girly-girl while I was growing up, I couldn't wait to do girl things with my daughter.

Finally, I remember how her dad looked down on her as I held her in my arms. He was already a good man when I married him, but he changed that day. In an instant he now had two girls to love and his selfless nature was enhanced. He has spent the last 20 years doing everything in his power to show his two girls how much he loves them.

It is such a cliche` to say, but 20 years really has gone by in a blink of an eye. It seems that it was just yesterday as I gazed down on our new baby girl and wondered what the world had in store for her. We are pleased with the young lady she has grown into. We are looking forward to seeing her learn and grow as she is on her mission. And we are looking forward to the day, when she too, will be gazing down at her own new daughter.

So, She's Going on a Mission

Katelyn received her mission call Friday. As excited as she was to open it, she also wanted to have family & friends with her when she opened it and that wasn't going to happen until last night. So promptly at 7 p.m. last night, she opened her letter and read these words:

Dear Sister Graham:

You are hereby called to serve as a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You are assigned to labor in the Arizona Tempe Mission.

...

She reports to the Provo Missionary Training Center on February 12th. She thinks that sounds like forever away, but I know that it isn't far away at all. The time will pass quickly. I'm sure of it.

When people ask me how I feel about Katelyn serving a mission, I tell them I'm glad for her to have this opportunity. I share with them my hopes for Katelyn while she is out. I hope she learns how to be organized; how to be accountable and work hard; and how to be on a "wake-up before 10 a.m." schedule. I hope that if she can accomplish these three things, those skills will translate to school and post-mission life. I also hope that her testimony is deepened of Jesus Christ and his Atonement is deepened. I want this to be a learning experience for her, and yes, I realize that learning is often accomplished through trials. I don't want the trials to be defeating, but I do want Katelyn to learn to lean on the Lord daily. As she does this, she will be able to testify of the Lord's love for us and that all things are possible through Christ, who strengthens us.

I love the Lord. I love Katelyn. I am so happy for her to have this 18-month experience to develop a close, personal relationship with the Lord. I hope she takes full advantage of what has been offered her. I know that if she trusts the Lord, turns to Him at all times, all will be well.

Faith not fear.

A Letter to Our City Council

This is the letter that I am considering sending to our city council. But rumor has it that the decision has already been made in regards to the further operation of this espresso stand, so maybe I am too late and my opinion is a moot point.


Dear Sirs:

Thank you for clearing most of the last Tuesday's council agenda and opening the floor to public comments. I know that you heard many constituents voice their concern and opposition to the Triple X Espresso stand located in our city. Many of those who spoke admonished you to enforce the codes already in place to protect our children from exposure to semi-nude woman. Debra  Long, a school board member for Central Valley School District, even shared how the district has been forced to re-route some of the school buses to avoid going past the espresso stand.

The school district has a responsibility to do all they can to protect the students in their charge. And the city council has a responsibility to protect the members in their community, even when some of those members are too naïve and young to realize they need protection. Protection of the community and citizens is one of the reasons why we have codes and ordinances.

I am not so far removed from being a teen-ager and young adult to not remember how exciting it was to get attention from boys and men. My girlfriends and I had a great time flirting with the college-age guys that would come into our work establishment. It was a lot of fun until the day when some guy read too much into my friendly smile and "would you like fries with that?" and began stalking me. I was fortunate that there was nothing more than a few harassing phone calls and some late night drive-by's when I was working. I remember being scared and worried. But I also remember not wanting to let anyone know because I was afraid that no one would believe me and that somehow I was responsible for this guy's actions.

Now, at the Triple X Espresso stand, you have hormones mixed with scantily clad women and that is certainly more of a recipe for harassment, inappropriate touching and stalking than was my black pants and maroon-striped McDonald's shirt. And since you have not classified this establishment as an adult entertainment establishment, which it should be on Topless Tuesday's and Thursday's, there do not appear to be any special codes or ordinances in place to protect the young women who work at that establishment. If this espresso stand was classified as an adult entertainment establishment, there would be specific codes to protect the workers from touching and harassment.

It would be nice if the owner of the establishment was watching out for her employees; however, a brief look at the messages and pictures that are posted on Facebook demonstrate that the owner, if not encourages, at least allows sexually-suggestive banter and interaction to take place at the Triple X Espresso stand. The owner believes that providing Topless Tuesday's and Thursday's gives her a competitive edge in the crowded espresso stand market. So, anything for a dollar.

In order to protect the young women who work at Triple X Espresso stand, the council should recognize this establishment for what it really is... "live adult entertainment" on Topless Tuesday's and Thursday's and enforce the municipal code (5.10.080) that addresses live adult entertainment. Or ban Topless Tuesday's since those days appear to violate the definition of "seminude" as listed in municipal code 5.10.010.

I still believe that the very nature of this espresso stand places young women at risk for harassment, sexual deviants, and stalking; however, maybe removing the semi-nudity on Tuesday's and Thursday's will offer them some protection from these secondary offenses and make Triple X Espresso stand less of a public nuisance. No one deserves to be harassed and made afraid, even if they chose to wear pasties and a g-string to work.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely
Nurse Graham

At First I Thought "Splat!" as in Failure

Several weeks ago I was asked to teach in Relief Society. I enjoy teaching and miss it greatly since being release from the RS presidency, so of course I said yes. I had many weeks to prepare and a great talk, Elder Holland's "Lord, I Believe", as the topic. I spent those weeks studying, cross-referencing, and praying about what words/message I should share based on this talk.

Yesterday was the day and going into RS I felt confident about what I was going to share. I felt that I had been guided by the Spirit in my preparation and was ready. And the lesson went smoothly with good participation by the sisters. Yet after RS I felt that somehow the lesson fell a little flat. I was quite discouraged. Splat!

I felt bad because the sister who had asked me to sub expressed her confidence in me & my teaching and I felt that I had let her down. I also felt like I had let the RS sisters down because I wasn't sure that I had left them feeling uplifted or edified. And really, what is the point of staying at church for 3 hours if you can't be strengthened and uplifted in all the classes?  Finally, I felt that perhaps I had not delivered the message God had intended for me to teach and therefore let him down.

But God shows us tender mercies daily if we keep our focus on Him. And this morning on my Facebook page there was a message from a sister who had attended RS yesterday. She said she had tried to catch me after church to tell me she related very well to the lesson, that the message was what she needed that day. And so my spirits were lifted and knew that even if she was the only sister who felt the spirit of the message, that was enough.

A Happy Place to Be

Do you have a happy place to be?

A place that is comfortable and warm?

A place that just unwinds all of the wound-upness of the day?

I do.

My place is at home in my flannel pants and the ugliest sweatshirt you have ever seen.

Some afternoons my work clothes come off as soon as I walk in the door.

Other times I wait to change into my jammies until after Dave gets home.

And that is just so he knows that I wear something other than the workout clothes he saw me in before he left for work in the morning.

Tonight's happy place to be is even happier because I have my jammies

And chocolate chip cookies

AND chocolate milk.

In my flannel jammies is my happy place to be.

A Few Senior Pictures

I'm lucky to have a good photo subject (when we find an agreeable location).

And Carson's lucky to have a great photo editor who can change the lightening, "blue up" his eyes, and whiten his teeth. Great job Katelyn!