I voted today....
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Project Run & Play Repeat!
9 years ago
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Monday, October 6, 2008
Not Everyone Can Cook Like Me
Papa came into town for the first time in 6 years. Papa is my grandpa on my mother's side and he and I have always had a really special bond. I look up to him more than I can express and he has taught me what it truly means to serve and love your spouse. I watched him lovingly take care of his wife up until the very end. This was not always an easy task, but he rose to the challenge and I will always admire him for the way that he loved her.
After Tutu's (my grandma's) passing, my mom convinced him to join her at her house for a couple of weeks and we were lucky to have him agree. During his visit, he came to our church to see the kids in their Primary Program and we had him over to dinner a couple of times. The first time he came over I made a concerted effort to have everything be just so. I cleaned the house and prepared a particularly yummy dinner...which included homemade garlic breadsticks and lasagna.
While the lasagna was cooking, I made the breadsticks
(which turned out perfectly, by the way) and Papa let the kids create a stuffed animal extravaganza all around him. James and Anne had a wonderful time posing the animals 'just so' and then getting their pictures taken. Papa was, of course, as patient and loving as ever.
Even Philip had a great time playing with Papa.
Once the lasagna was finished cooking, I removed it from the oven and set it on the counter. At least, that is what I had planned in my mind.
In reality, once the lasagna was finished cooking, I removed it from the oven and then promptly dropped the entire thing on the floor. No...I am not kidding. It was cooking in one of those flimsy metal pans and the whole thing just bent in half from the weight of the lasagna and I couldn't stop it from falling to the ground below. Here I was trying to show my Papa what a mature, responsible mother I had become and instead I dropped his dinner on the floor.
As you can see, most of the cheese and the sauce was lost on the floor, so the only thing remaining of the lasagna was the noodles. Luckily, my mom, husband, and Papa were all very kind about the whole thing and they all suggested that we eat it anyway. I sprinkled the top with some new cheese, dumped a bunch of spaghetti sauce over the top and served my masterpiece for dinner.
In the end, I guess I am still the little girl dying for approval from the adults that I adore. On this night, I learned that the only thing I have to do to gain their approval is to be myself. I don't have to be the best cook or the most accomplished mother. I only have to be me and that is enough...failed dinners and all.
After Tutu's (my grandma's) passing, my mom convinced him to join her at her house for a couple of weeks and we were lucky to have him agree. During his visit, he came to our church to see the kids in their Primary Program and we had him over to dinner a couple of times. The first time he came over I made a concerted effort to have everything be just so. I cleaned the house and prepared a particularly yummy dinner...which included homemade garlic breadsticks and lasagna.
While the lasagna was cooking, I made the breadsticks
(which turned out perfectly, by the way) and Papa let the kids create a stuffed animal extravaganza all around him. James and Anne had a wonderful time posing the animals 'just so' and then getting their pictures taken. Papa was, of course, as patient and loving as ever.
Even Philip had a great time playing with Papa.
Once the lasagna was finished cooking, I removed it from the oven and set it on the counter. At least, that is what I had planned in my mind.
In reality, once the lasagna was finished cooking, I removed it from the oven and then promptly dropped the entire thing on the floor. No...I am not kidding. It was cooking in one of those flimsy metal pans and the whole thing just bent in half from the weight of the lasagna and I couldn't stop it from falling to the ground below. Here I was trying to show my Papa what a mature, responsible mother I had become and instead I dropped his dinner on the floor.
As you can see, most of the cheese and the sauce was lost on the floor, so the only thing remaining of the lasagna was the noodles. Luckily, my mom, husband, and Papa were all very kind about the whole thing and they all suggested that we eat it anyway. I sprinkled the top with some new cheese, dumped a bunch of spaghetti sauce over the top and served my masterpiece for dinner.
In the end, I guess I am still the little girl dying for approval from the adults that I adore. On this night, I learned that the only thing I have to do to gain their approval is to be myself. I don't have to be the best cook or the most accomplished mother. I only have to be me and that is enough...failed dinners and all.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Nemesis
When I was about 8 years old I was stung by a bee while I was asleep in my bed...in the armpit. It got horribly infected and caused me all sorts of pain. In order to help me feel better, my mom used to sit with me and read all of the information about bees/wasps/yellow jackets out of our 1977 Encyclopedia Britanica. My one condolence was the hope that it was a bee that had stung me and therefore had given his life to do so.
When I was about 10 a bee/wasp got me on my ankle while I was playing on my Grandparents teeter-totter in their back yard. I was minding my own business and everything. We then headed up the mountain to Snowbird and I remember being awake that night in the hotel hating bees with all my 10 year old heart.
When I was 15 I went boating with some friends in a nearby reservoir. I jumped off the boat to go up to the picnic area without my shoes and...you guessed it...I stepped on a bee. I think he was even dead, but the bugger got me anyway...right in between my toes. That one got really infected as well, to the point where you couldn't tell which toes the sting had occured between because it was all so red and swollen.
As you can see, I do not have a great history with bees, so when I found the huge nest the wasps had built under our gable roof I was a little intimidated. My sister Joanne saw it as well and advised me to wait until dusk to kill it. Apparently the bees are at their calmest at this point in the day and they are all back at home, allowing the greatest number of the little buzzing beasts to be killed.
On this particular evening, Matt was out mountain biking and so I could not defer to him to be the in-house pest killer. So, I herded all of the kids inside, made sure our patio door was unlocked (so that I could make my quick escape inside), and I got out my can of wasp killer. This wasp killer is the kind that shoots up to 20+ feet away. Anyway, with my heart pounding in my chest, I did a test run to make sure that the can really worked correctly and then I aimed and fired. Wow, that stuff works great!!! The 20+ wasps on the nest immediately started to fall dead to the ground. After emptying a quarter of the can on them, I decided I had done my job really well...and I wasn't even going to have to run for it.
Here is the mega nest and the remaining dead wasps that got stuck onto it as I sprayed them.
Just at that moment, I noticed a renegade wasp come swooping down on me. I tried to swat him away with my hand, but...you guessed it...he STUNG me! Aaii yai yai! Those stings hurt bad. I (rather quickly) made my escape to the aforementioned patio door...silently cursing the entire breed of my nemesis. I got on the computer and looked up what to do for a bee sting and discoved the best thing was to
1. Scrape the stinger out with a credit card
2. Wash the site thoroughly with soap and water
3. Apply ice for swelling and pain
4. Apply some type of antibiotic ointment
5. Take ibuprofen for pain
So, I fished out my handy credit card and scraped away. It hurt like crazy, but I hoped it would help. I then washed my hands with soap and cold water and already the burning sensation started to subside. I decided that the scraping had removed the stinger and so I didn't feel like I needed the ibuprofen and to be perfectly honest, I completely forgot about the Neosporin.
Mostly, the whole event just made me angry. Angry at the nasty little beasts (which are very fast and vindictive...now I know why people use the term bee-line), angry at myself for not spraying and running (which was my original plan), and angry that my hand now hurt.
In the end though, I had killed them, and I had done it on my own. Lesson learned...right? I had even decided that the sting was mostly my own fault and the wasp was just trying to protect his family. I mean, how would I like it if a huge creature came and doused my home with poison?
Fast forward to two days later. I woke up this morning and unconsciously scratched my hand. OWWWEEEE! What was that?!? I looked down at my old bee sting and realized why step number 4 was so important and should not be forgotten. Yep. My hand is infected. It isn't too terrible (not like the armpit or in between the toes) and I know my immune system will fight it off, but man oh man, I really do not like wasps!
So much for me feeling bad about destroying his home.
When I was about 10 a bee/wasp got me on my ankle while I was playing on my Grandparents teeter-totter in their back yard. I was minding my own business and everything. We then headed up the mountain to Snowbird and I remember being awake that night in the hotel hating bees with all my 10 year old heart.
When I was 15 I went boating with some friends in a nearby reservoir. I jumped off the boat to go up to the picnic area without my shoes and...you guessed it...I stepped on a bee. I think he was even dead, but the bugger got me anyway...right in between my toes. That one got really infected as well, to the point where you couldn't tell which toes the sting had occured between because it was all so red and swollen.
As you can see, I do not have a great history with bees, so when I found the huge nest the wasps had built under our gable roof I was a little intimidated. My sister Joanne saw it as well and advised me to wait until dusk to kill it. Apparently the bees are at their calmest at this point in the day and they are all back at home, allowing the greatest number of the little buzzing beasts to be killed.
On this particular evening, Matt was out mountain biking and so I could not defer to him to be the in-house pest killer. So, I herded all of the kids inside, made sure our patio door was unlocked (so that I could make my quick escape inside), and I got out my can of wasp killer. This wasp killer is the kind that shoots up to 20+ feet away. Anyway, with my heart pounding in my chest, I did a test run to make sure that the can really worked correctly and then I aimed and fired. Wow, that stuff works great!!! The 20+ wasps on the nest immediately started to fall dead to the ground. After emptying a quarter of the can on them, I decided I had done my job really well...and I wasn't even going to have to run for it.
Here is the mega nest and the remaining dead wasps that got stuck onto it as I sprayed them.
Just at that moment, I noticed a renegade wasp come swooping down on me. I tried to swat him away with my hand, but...you guessed it...he STUNG me! Aaii yai yai! Those stings hurt bad. I (rather quickly) made my escape to the aforementioned patio door...silently cursing the entire breed of my nemesis. I got on the computer and looked up what to do for a bee sting and discoved the best thing was to
1. Scrape the stinger out with a credit card
2. Wash the site thoroughly with soap and water
3. Apply ice for swelling and pain
4. Apply some type of antibiotic ointment
5. Take ibuprofen for pain
So, I fished out my handy credit card and scraped away. It hurt like crazy, but I hoped it would help. I then washed my hands with soap and cold water and already the burning sensation started to subside. I decided that the scraping had removed the stinger and so I didn't feel like I needed the ibuprofen and to be perfectly honest, I completely forgot about the Neosporin.
Mostly, the whole event just made me angry. Angry at the nasty little beasts (which are very fast and vindictive...now I know why people use the term bee-line), angry at myself for not spraying and running (which was my original plan), and angry that my hand now hurt.
In the end though, I had killed them, and I had done it on my own. Lesson learned...right? I had even decided that the sting was mostly my own fault and the wasp was just trying to protect his family. I mean, how would I like it if a huge creature came and doused my home with poison?
Fast forward to two days later. I woke up this morning and unconsciously scratched my hand. OWWWEEEE! What was that?!? I looked down at my old bee sting and realized why step number 4 was so important and should not be forgotten. Yep. My hand is infected. It isn't too terrible (not like the armpit or in between the toes) and I know my immune system will fight it off, but man oh man, I really do not like wasps!
So much for me feeling bad about destroying his home.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
ER Visit
Philip's caseworker came to our house yesterday to deliver all of the documents related to Philip's case. It is one of the final steps in this adoption process and I was excited to sign for their release. We had a nice visit and then Philip and I walked her out to her car.
I held Philip in my arms and he waved bye bye while she drove off. I then turned to get the mail out of the mailbox and Philip twisted back out of my arms at the worst moment because the mailbox blocked my other arms' ability to grab him. He fell from my grasp and landed flat on his head in the gutter. It was one of those slow motion moments and I just couldn't stop it from happening. (I am still sick as I replay it in my mind.) Unfortunately his head is what hit first and so it made the most sickening thud I have ever heard. I immediately swooped him up as he screamed into my neck, rushed inside to grab some ice, and called the doctor. After talking to the nurse, she confirmed my fear, a fall from that high onto concrete needed to be evaluated at the ER and I needed to take him in right away. Oh no...what have I done? Needless to say, I was sick at the possibility of his injury. All of the color had drained out of Philip's face, so I hurried him into the car and headed to the ER. He fell sound asleep on the way which made me even more worried.
When we arrived at the hospital, the Doctor determined that he needed a CT scan to rule out a head bleed. CT scans are amazing diagnostic tools, but they also emit a tremendous amount of radiation and there are risks that I had to consider. After conferencing with the doctor, we decided that it would be most prudent to have one done since he is so young and can't tell us his symptoms.
So, we headed off to CT where we attempted to keep Philip still while they got the image they needed. It took two tries, but they were able to get a good picture and so we headed back to the room to wait. While waiting for the news, my friend Anna unexpectedly showed up to support me and I was so grateful for her thoughtfulness.
After waiting for about a half an hour, the doctor came in and said that there was no bleeding around his brain (which was the primary concern), but he did have a skull fracture. What?!? I had literally broken my baby's head. Once again I felt sick, but the doctor reassured me that he wasn't in any more danger, the fracture wasn't creating any pressure on his brain, and that he would heal on his own. While it was good news, it didn't really help to dispel my guilt. After she consulted with the on call Neuro-surgeon, she gave us permission to be released.
After we arrived home, I asked my brother, Devin, to come over and help Matt give Philip a Priesthood blessing. Matt gave him a blessing in which he blessed him with the ability to heal and reminded him of Heavenly Father's love for him and our whole family.
I am very grateful for the Priesthood and my husband's worthiness. I am grateful for the health services that we have so accesible to us. I am grateful for life saving diagnostic technology. I am grateful for the kindness and compassion that was shown to Philip and me on this stressful day. Most importantly, I am grateful that Philip is going to be ok and that there will be no lasting damage.
This whole event made it very clear to me just how desperate I am to get this baby to the temple so that he can be sealed to us. As I replayed the events of the day I couldn't help but realize that the outcome could have been very different. If anything happened to him right now I would have no claim to him. Not in the legal sense or the spiritual sense. I am more anxious then ever to make this adoption final. Thank goodness we are almost done.
I held Philip in my arms and he waved bye bye while she drove off. I then turned to get the mail out of the mailbox and Philip twisted back out of my arms at the worst moment because the mailbox blocked my other arms' ability to grab him. He fell from my grasp and landed flat on his head in the gutter. It was one of those slow motion moments and I just couldn't stop it from happening. (I am still sick as I replay it in my mind.) Unfortunately his head is what hit first and so it made the most sickening thud I have ever heard. I immediately swooped him up as he screamed into my neck, rushed inside to grab some ice, and called the doctor. After talking to the nurse, she confirmed my fear, a fall from that high onto concrete needed to be evaluated at the ER and I needed to take him in right away. Oh no...what have I done? Needless to say, I was sick at the possibility of his injury. All of the color had drained out of Philip's face, so I hurried him into the car and headed to the ER. He fell sound asleep on the way which made me even more worried.
When we arrived at the hospital, the Doctor determined that he needed a CT scan to rule out a head bleed. CT scans are amazing diagnostic tools, but they also emit a tremendous amount of radiation and there are risks that I had to consider. After conferencing with the doctor, we decided that it would be most prudent to have one done since he is so young and can't tell us his symptoms.
So, we headed off to CT where we attempted to keep Philip still while they got the image they needed. It took two tries, but they were able to get a good picture and so we headed back to the room to wait. While waiting for the news, my friend Anna unexpectedly showed up to support me and I was so grateful for her thoughtfulness.
After waiting for about a half an hour, the doctor came in and said that there was no bleeding around his brain (which was the primary concern), but he did have a skull fracture. What?!? I had literally broken my baby's head. Once again I felt sick, but the doctor reassured me that he wasn't in any more danger, the fracture wasn't creating any pressure on his brain, and that he would heal on his own. While it was good news, it didn't really help to dispel my guilt. After she consulted with the on call Neuro-surgeon, she gave us permission to be released.
After we arrived home, I asked my brother, Devin, to come over and help Matt give Philip a Priesthood blessing. Matt gave him a blessing in which he blessed him with the ability to heal and reminded him of Heavenly Father's love for him and our whole family.
I am very grateful for the Priesthood and my husband's worthiness. I am grateful for the health services that we have so accesible to us. I am grateful for life saving diagnostic technology. I am grateful for the kindness and compassion that was shown to Philip and me on this stressful day. Most importantly, I am grateful that Philip is going to be ok and that there will be no lasting damage.
This whole event made it very clear to me just how desperate I am to get this baby to the temple so that he can be sealed to us. As I replayed the events of the day I couldn't help but realize that the outcome could have been very different. If anything happened to him right now I would have no claim to him. Not in the legal sense or the spiritual sense. I am more anxious then ever to make this adoption final. Thank goodness we are almost done.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
The light at the end of the tunnel
I can finally see it.
Our journey to adoption is finally coming to a close. We are officially counting down weeks instead of months. Today I took the notarized copy of our Petition to Adopt to our attorney. We have waited and waited for the paperwork to all fall into place so that we could finally file our Petition...and now it is done. Hooray!!!
We still have about 3 to 4 weeks of waiting left, but then we will be able to stand in front of the county judge and promise to love Philip as our own. Then, even more significantly, we will be able to take him to the Holy Temple where we will be sealed to him for time and all eternity. Philip will be ours in every sense of the word.
I am overwhelmed with gratitude. I am accutely aware of Heavenly Father's love for me and my family. I am so grateful that He led us to adoption and that we were willing to follow. I can only hope that I will be willing to follow His lead in other aspects of my life as well. His plan is perfect...I just need to be willing to submit.
Our journey to adoption is finally coming to a close. We are officially counting down weeks instead of months. Today I took the notarized copy of our Petition to Adopt to our attorney. We have waited and waited for the paperwork to all fall into place so that we could finally file our Petition...and now it is done. Hooray!!!
We still have about 3 to 4 weeks of waiting left, but then we will be able to stand in front of the county judge and promise to love Philip as our own. Then, even more significantly, we will be able to take him to the Holy Temple where we will be sealed to him for time and all eternity. Philip will be ours in every sense of the word.
I am overwhelmed with gratitude. I am accutely aware of Heavenly Father's love for me and my family. I am so grateful that He led us to adoption and that we were willing to follow. I can only hope that I will be willing to follow His lead in other aspects of my life as well. His plan is perfect...I just need to be willing to submit.
Monday, August 25, 2008
How do YOU fold your laundry?
Matt took these pictures while I was away getting groceries and when I downloaded them on the computer I laughed out loud. I hope they do the same for you.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Anne's Perspective
Anne is still at an age where her brain is trying to understand all that is around her and therefore she says some really cute things. Here are some of her latest...
June 2008
Anne: Momma, why do police cars have those bars in them?
Me: They have those bars in there to protect the policemen from the bad guys when they have to take them to the jail.
Anne: (After a few minutes.) But we don't have any bad guys in this city, right?
Me: Well Anne, unfortunately we do have bad guys in this city and that is why we have the policemen to help us and to protect us.
Anne: (Without a moments pause) We have ninjas in this city?
July 2008
One afternoon the power went out in our house and once Anne realized what had happened she ran up to me and exclaimed, "Oh no, momma, our house ran out of batteries!
August 22, 2008
While leaving our neighborhood a car pulled out in front of us that looked just like Matt's.
Anne: Is that daddy?
Me: No, daddy is at work, but that car sure looks like daddy's.
Anne: Is it daddy's car?
Me: No, but they do look the exact same.
Anne: Oh yeah, it's not daddy's because daddy's has black handles and that one doesn't.
Me: Oh my goodness, Anne, you are so smart.
Anne: Why?
Me: Because I never noticed the handles on daddy's car before and you noticed all the little details.
Anne: (after a few moments) Did Jesus make me smart?
Me: Heavenly Father made you smart. He made all of the things that are wonderful about you.
Anne: But He didn't make you smart like me, right?
June 2008
Anne: Momma, why do police cars have those bars in them?
Me: They have those bars in there to protect the policemen from the bad guys when they have to take them to the jail.
Anne: (After a few minutes.) But we don't have any bad guys in this city, right?
Me: Well Anne, unfortunately we do have bad guys in this city and that is why we have the policemen to help us and to protect us.
Anne: (Without a moments pause) We have ninjas in this city?
July 2008
One afternoon the power went out in our house and once Anne realized what had happened she ran up to me and exclaimed, "Oh no, momma, our house ran out of batteries!
August 22, 2008
While leaving our neighborhood a car pulled out in front of us that looked just like Matt's.
Anne: Is that daddy?
Me: No, daddy is at work, but that car sure looks like daddy's.
Anne: Is it daddy's car?
Me: No, but they do look the exact same.
Anne: Oh yeah, it's not daddy's because daddy's has black handles and that one doesn't.
Me: Oh my goodness, Anne, you are so smart.
Anne: Why?
Me: Because I never noticed the handles on daddy's car before and you noticed all the little details.
Anne: (after a few moments) Did Jesus make me smart?
Me: Heavenly Father made you smart. He made all of the things that are wonderful about you.
Anne: But He didn't make you smart like me, right?
Monday, August 18, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
Exhausted
Our present to Anne for her birthday this year was a trip to Build-a-Bear, where I told her she could pick out any of the stuffed animals for her birthday. She has been there once before for a friends' birthday and she has absolutely loved the Hello Kitty she received. Also, the box (house) that it came in has entertained her for hours and hours because she has water-color painted the entire thing...inside and out.
One day we had a free afternoon and so Anne and I headed off to Build-a-Bear...just the two of us. A rare occasion around here. I haven't ever been there before, but I had heard it was really cute. When we got there, I pointed out all of the darling stuffed bears and bunnies, but Anne was determined to get what I would describe as the least cuddly looking one in the bunch. She thought it was perfection though, so what could I say? We waited and waited and waited to get her chosen dog stuffed (it took about 45 minutes to get through the line). Then we printed the birth certificate for "Wolfy" and headed to the checkout counter. We decided not to purchase clothes for the dog or else it would have taken much longer. Overall the trip was fun because Anne and I were alone together and the store really is darling, just make sure you have a lot of time on your hands when you go there.
Anyway, on the way home I noticed that Anne was really quiet, so I looked back and discovered she had fallen sound asleep. This is a RARE occasion for Anne so I had Matt take a picture of her once we pulled into the garage. Apparently bear (or dog) building is exhausting work!!!
Darn it! She really is so cute!
One day we had a free afternoon and so Anne and I headed off to Build-a-Bear...just the two of us. A rare occasion around here. I haven't ever been there before, but I had heard it was really cute. When we got there, I pointed out all of the darling stuffed bears and bunnies, but Anne was determined to get what I would describe as the least cuddly looking one in the bunch. She thought it was perfection though, so what could I say? We waited and waited and waited to get her chosen dog stuffed (it took about 45 minutes to get through the line). Then we printed the birth certificate for "Wolfy" and headed to the checkout counter. We decided not to purchase clothes for the dog or else it would have taken much longer. Overall the trip was fun because Anne and I were alone together and the store really is darling, just make sure you have a lot of time on your hands when you go there.
Anyway, on the way home I noticed that Anne was really quiet, so I looked back and discovered she had fallen sound asleep. This is a RARE occasion for Anne so I had Matt take a picture of her once we pulled into the garage. Apparently bear (or dog) building is exhausting work!!!
Darn it! She really is so cute!
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